Chapter Seven

Kangee tossed and turned as images skittered through her dreams like leaves kicked and flung by a child throwing a tantrum. She moaned, a low, raspy sound deep in her throat.

The images, those brief, gut-wrenching images of her mother that were gone as fast as they appeared—her mother huddled in a tight ball, the light around her faint and flickering in the shadows of something so dark, so frightening.

She wanted to flee but couldn’t leave her mother. She inched forward. “Ina.” She wanted her mother to look at her, show herself, but the bluish light grew dimmer.

“Ina, don’t go!” She ran toward her mother but barely moved, as though she were swimming against a rushing stream of water.

“Go to her,” a voice encouraged. The barriers lifted, and there was her mother, huddled in a blue ball of light.

In the darkness, something moved. It was no more than a sense of something, as though whatever hid in the shadows had no real substance. Yet it was real, the threat to her mother very real, and completely terrifying.

Slowly, she made her way through the inky darkness toward her mother, then came to an abrupt halt when the stench of rotting fish left on the banks of the lake during the hot summer sun struck her.

Horrified, she gasped when thin, dark fingers reached toward her. The air grew so thick she had trouble breathing, the dark, pulsing, and vibrating mass smothering her in—

Evil!

Kangee stumbled back, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the raw, hungry, living entity. Something cold and slimy wrapped around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her side.

“Go to your mother. See her. Free her.” The voice rolled through her mind, smooth and silky, dripping with sweetness as it enticed her toward her mother.

Unsure, afraid, she didn’t know what to do. As desperate as she was to save her mother, something wasn’t right.

Her mother. Why did her mother not speak or come to her or fight the hideous monster?

“Go to her.” A hard shove to her back sent her stumbling toward the blue light.

She shuddered, and her legs shook. The sickly-sweet smell mingled with rotted flesh turned her stomach, but it was the insidious hissing, buzzing, and that low bone-weakening hum of hate that had her fighting the urge to throw up.

“Ina?” She inched forward. “Ina?” Her voice sounded far away and echoed in her ears as though she both watched what was happening and lived it. She stepped close to her mother and reached out. She was so close. Just a bit more, and she’d touch her mother. Yet, she paused and pulled her hand back.

Why did her mother not respond?

“Go to her, child. She is your mother. Free her. Take her with you from this place. Go! Go!”

The insidious voice relentlessly wrapped her in its dark, dank fingers of blackened sludge. Thinner strands shot up and began twisting and twining around her, weaving a web that made her gag. She needed to get out. Go to her mother and get them both out. She reached out, but before her fingers touched the blue light, it retracted, growing smaller.

“No, chunksi, my daughter.” Eagle Woman’s command demanded to be obeyed.

Kangee stepped back, knowing she needed help.

Night Warrior.

His name shot into her head. He was a shaman, no matter what he said. His powers were great. He’d come if she called, if she found him. He was always there, in her dreams. Turning to go, Kangee cried out when her feet refused to move

She glanced down, horrified at the swirls of darkness moving up her legs, twisting around and around so she couldn’t see or move.

“Go to her. Only then will you be free.” Over and over the command pelted her. It hissed and growled. Grotesque fingers, shiny, like a clear lake that reflected the light, reached out, but what shone back was unspeakably evil. Dark begetting dark as the web of evil surrounding her began to spin.

“Ina,” she screamed and held her hands up to ward off the suffocating blackness descending upon her. Without warning, a creature darker than the deepest shadows appeared with eyes red as blood. Hatred and pure evil buzzed in her ears and bit at her skin like thousands of angry bees. Kangee fought the monster, trying to escape its gripping hold.

“Who are you?” she sobbed.

“I am Ardong, son of Dragon, banished from your world. Soon, I will be free and all shall know the name of Ardong.” The evil spirit laughed with absolute glee. “Go to her. Save your mother. Free her.”

“How?” She held her aching head and sank to her knees.

“Take her. Take her. Take her.” The words became a loud crashing sound like the roar of thunder overhead.

Cringing, cowering, she sobbed, unable to move under the crushing weight of evil.

Suddenly, she was free. Kangee stumbled to her feet and ran to her mother. They had to leave. “Ina, let’s go. We have to go.” She reached out for her mother.

“No! Do not touch me. You must go. Get out of here. Wake up! Wake up, chunksi!”

The panic in her mother’s voice stopped her. She didn’t understand. “I came for you. We must leave this place.”

She saw her mother’s face inside the bluish bubble, saw the tears streaming down her face.

“I cannot leave,” her mother said. “If I leave, I free evil. Now go. Do not look back. Do not return.” Her image faded.

“Touch her, child. Take her from this place.”

The harsh, whispering voice, drowned out her mother’s. Kangee put her hands over her ears. “I won’t leave you. Mother!” She drew in a deep breath, stretched out her hand, ready to grab and run.

“No! Do not touch her!”

Night Warrior!

Kangee spun around with a cry of relief when she spotted him hovering at the edge of her nightmare. “Come help me.”

He held out his hand. “Come with me,” he commanded.

“Ina is here. My mother is here. Help me.” She begged him to come to her aid. “Please. Help me. We cannot leave her.”

“Come to me. You must come to me!”

Kangee tried to go to the young shaman, but evil curled itself around her legs. The more she fought, the harder the grip of the monster until it slithered up her body, then leaped high above her head, a fist of darkness ready to hammer into her.

More afraid than he’d ever been before, Night Warrior entered Kangee’s nightmare wholly and rushed toward her. “You cannot remain here.” He wrapped his arms around her. She fought him.

Evil wrapped around them, dragging them into the darkness. Night Warrior used every bit of knowledge he had of dream worlds to take them out of the darkness.

Awake, his heart pounding, sweat pouring from his head, Night Warrior knelt on the floor beside Kangee. Her nightmare clung to him. The stench of rotting flesh and pus throbbed in his nostrils and coated the back of his throat.

Though he’d taken them both away from the evil spirit, Kangee thrashed, kicked, and fought against him.

Night Warrior inhaled, allowing her sweet scent to chase away the horrid stench of evil.

“You are safe, skuya. Wake now.” He dare not release her until she was awake and aware. Against his bare chest, her heart pounded hard. His jumped in tune to hers.

Still in her mind, he heard her silent screams and knew that while she was no longer in danger, the sickly stench of her nightmare continued to shroud her mind. Fearing he could not hold onto her for much longer or that her screams would break free of her mind and wake everyone, Night Warrior, for the second time that night deliberately entered the dream world, choosing a dreamscape that had once been a favorite, a place he’d often taken—

He shoved all thoughts of that young girl from him. Kangee mattered, just Kangee. In his mind, sunlight, blue skies, and a green meadow replaced the lodge. To his right, came the sound of water. He turned, dived into the small pond, and emerged beneath a waterfall.

He allowed the cold liquid to wash over him and cleanse his mind. Then he reached for Kangee’s mind and pulled her into his dream beneath the icy fall of water.

Her screams stopped when the water poured over her head. She gasped, her eyes wide open and wild.

“Safe. You are safe.”

She choked, gagged, and her chest heaved as she held onto him. “Where am I?”

“Somewhere safe,” he whispered against her ear, turning them so the water no longer pelted them but flowed behind them, showering them with a gentle spray.

“You came for me.” She lowered her head to his chest and just stood with her hands on his shoulders, her body pressed against his.

His lips brushed the top of her head, and his arms slid around her waist. “Yes, I came.”

As he had every night since her arrival in his village. The ease with which he could enter her dreams both scared him and amazed him. He hadn’t DreamWalked since his youth, but now it felt as if he’d never stopped. It consumed even his days, those long days spent in his bed when he’d created special places for them so that when he went to her during the night, he could take her away from her pain and suffering. But this was the first time he’d brought her here, the first time he’d been back himself since the day he’d vowed to never DreamWalk again.

“Where are we?” She repeated, her gaze scanning the pond, the gently swaying trees and rich, green grass blanketing the earth.

Night Warrior didn’t need to look anywhere but at the woman he held. He knew every intimate detail of this place because it was his creation—his dreamscape.

“We are in one of my dream worlds. I created this place a long time ago.” Memories of the past shadowed his mind and heart.

Around them, birds sang, water splashed, and insects hummed.

Kangee put one hand on his unblemished chest. “It’s so peaceful,” she said, dipping her fingers into the water. “It beautiful. And so real.”

She closed her eyes and ran her hands though her hair to allow a gentle breeze to tug at the dark strands that floated on top of the turbulent pond. After a long moment, she turned so that she could lean against him.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight, his hands splayed across her abdomen. He rested his cheek against hers and drew in her sweet scent.

“We are in your dream.” Wonder filled her voice, and her eyes were wide as she shifted so that she could see him.

“Yes.” His lips moved against her soft skin. He tipped her chin up and watched sunlight bath her face and make her eyes sparkle like colored stars. Desire for her slid through his body as his mouth touched the corner of hers.

Twisting around, she wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered herself to his gentle kiss and explorations. His hands stroked her back and moved beneath her curtain of hair as he pulled her closer.

When the kiss ended, she buried her face in his neck. “I don’t want to go back. I wish we could stay here.”

Her plea punched him in the gut and drove the air from his lungs. He’d heard those words before. Another dream. Another time.

“No!” He wasn’t sure if he yelled the word, and if he had, was he speaking to her or to himself. “We are leaving. Now.”

She stumbled out of his arms and nearly slipped on the fine, sandy bottom of the pond. “Wait. What did I do?”

Realizing that he’d overreacted, Night Warrior took a deep breath and shook his head. “I am sorry. You did nothing wrong.” He took her hand in his, then glanced around, part of him waiting, wondering if the girl from his past, the one who’d died while here with him was still here? If so, would she show herself or did she blame him for her death, as he blamed himself.

“What is it, Warrior?” Kangee, without releasing her hold on Night Warrior, was scanning the scenery.

“This place.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I brought you here. It’s not a happy place for me.”

She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Someday, you will tell me why a place this beautiful, this perfect, makes you sad.”

He saw only patience and understanding and realized then that he could tell this woman anything, that she would not condemn him as he’d condemned himself so long ago.

“Yes. I will tell you the story of an arrogant young warrior and a beautiful, sweet girl.” He sighed. “Ready?”

Kangee wrapped her arms around his neck. “No. But you are right. We cannot stay here.”

“We are back. Wake.” Night Warrior’s hushed voice pulled Kangee from her dreams.

She opened her eyes. The bright sunlight and waterfall were gone. Darkness once again surrounded her. Panic gathered in her mind until she realized she was on her pallet of furs, on the floor of the lodge. Just another nightmare.

She shuddered. Though the terror had eased, the nightmare left her feeling limp, raw, and achy.

She glanced around. The darkness, broken by the faint sheen of moonlight spilling into the lodge from the smoke holes in the ceiling, revealed the warrior stretched out beside her. His eyes glittered in the darkness, and his breath fanned her face. She inhaled his scent.

“You are safe. A dream,” Night Warrior whispered.

A chill shot through her, and her stomach twisted in knots. “No, it was real.”

So real, her shattered mind balked when she tried to focus on the images and meanings. The rawness of her throat confirmed that she’d screamed, over and over yet no one else in the lodge had been awakened. How was that possible? “My mother was there. You were there—”

“Just a dream.” Night Warrior’s voice came out a harsh hiss of air, but he pulled her closer. “Just a dream,” he repeated as though trying to convince them both.

Kangee shook from head to toe. She sat up and so did he. She leaned against him, needing to touch him and ground herself in him. Each breath hurt, and each beat of her heart pounded like the furious river water spewing rocks out of its path.

“You were there,” she whispered. “You saved me. Took me away from—”

From what? Fear dried her mouth. She couldn’t say it. Her eyes begged him to tell her that he’d been there, had seen her mother trapped by something so evil she couldn’t put a name to it.

Not true. She rose onto her knees and faced him, staring into his shadowed eyes. “Say it,” she demanded in a low, harsh whisper. “Tell me you saw her and an evil monster.”

He gripped her shoulders hard. His left hand traveled up to cup the side of her neck. “I saw both,” he admitted.

She slid down, her legs beneath her. “What does this mean? Why did my mother refuse to leave that place?”

“I do not have the answers you seek, skuya.”

“I need to go see if my brother has returned.”

Night Warrior grabbed her arm and kept her from standing. “You cannot go there at night. You are not familiar with the path.”

Kangee held her tears at bay. Crying would not solve anything, and she was so tired of feeling helpless and sad, but she was so scared that her chest ached and felt as though it were going to burst.

Night Warrior nuzzled her ear. “Breathe, skuya. Breathe. We will find the answers.”

She swiped at one lone tear that escaped. How was it possible for this evil spirit to invade her dreams and threaten her very life? “You will help me?”

He closed his eyes. “I do not think I have a choice.” He opened his eyes and met hers. “Not since the day you begged me to live. For you.”

Kangee frowned, but he held up his hand. “Another place, another time.”

“Another story,” she finished, “that you will one day tell me.” She pressed her fingers to her trembling lips. Faint light from the embers of the fire in the center aisle of the longhouse flickered.

She wasn’t a DreamWalker like Night Warrior, but she was a storyteller and storytellers were often dreamers. During the day while doing boring tasks, she’d spin a tale in her mind, then continue the story at night while she slept. Her dreams were vivid, lifelike. But tonight was different. It was no ordinary dream or nightmare.

Night Warrior shifted. “I will return to my own bed.”

Their gazes met and held. She wanted to ask him to stay but didn’t. She’d asked much of this warrior already. Her eyes were full of concern and worry as he limped back to his own pallet.

Before she could settle back on her furs, a loud, long howl rent the air. Another and another followed it.

Kangee cried out. She knew that song, that tone. At once, she jumped up and pushed through the entrance to the lodge. Night Warrior called to her, but she ran out into the night.

“Ate! Mon père.” Her father had returned.

Outside of the lodge, a slight movement drew her attention. Three wolves stood beneath the trees. She ran toward them. Immediately, the animals blurred and shimmered. She blinked, and Star Walker, Blaze, and her father were striding toward her.

She threw herself at her father, wrapping her arms tightly around his thick, bear-sized neck. With a sob of relief, she buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling, seeking comfort in his scent of cedar, tobacco, and wood smoke.

Fisting her hands into the soft, well-worn buckskin shirt he wore, she lifted her head and stared up into her father’s shadowed eyes. His image blurred as silent tears continued to fall. “Ina…”

Conrad tenderly wiped the tears from his daughter’s face, then lowered his head until he rested his forehead against hers. “My daughter.” He spoke in Lakota. “I have not found your mother.” Shame, grief, and despair thickened his voice.

“Mon père. She is in danger. She needs us,” she said, speaking fast, switching between French and Lakota, her voice urgent.

Conrad’s fingers bit into her shoulders. “Where—”

“No. A dream…” She shook her head. “A dream yet not,” she said as the hope in her father’s eyes faded.

“I saw her, spoke to her, but I do not know where she is.” Her voice broke under a wave of helplessness. She’d failed to bring her mother out of that dark, evil place. She’d not only let herself down, but her father and her family.

Conrad held his daughter. This child had stolen his heart from the first time he’d set eyes on her with her big, beautiful jewel-colored eyes. She’d been shy, uncertain, and afraid he’d push her away and ignore her as her real father had done for so many years.

Unconsciously, he stroked her back with his large hand, offering comfort. As a young girl, Kangee had been denied a father’s love and had craved it so desperately. The love between them had grown into an unbreakable bond.

Seeing her so distraught now lit a ball of guilt that burned his gut. He hadn’t meant to be gone for so long. He stared into eyes so like her mother’s and wanted to cry out in pain. Eagle Woman, his heart and soul. How could he survive without her?

“She’s alive.” He wasn’t sure if he was speaking to his daughter or trying to convince himself.

Kangee buried her face into his chest. He glanced over her shoulder and saw the twins and Skye clinging to one another. What was left of his heart crumbled into tiny bits. Pulling Kangee to his side, he held out his arm and swept up his three youngest daughters. For a long moment, he just stood there holding his girls, his world.

“I should not have stayed away so long.” He closed his eyes briefly as he drew in the scent of his children, then opened his eyes and saw Chief Two Arrows and Night Warrior watching. “I am sorry to disturb your night.”

Two Arrows waved aside the apology. “Your children need you. It is good you have returned.” The Chief sent him a questioning look.

Conrad shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse. “She is alive, I know this, but she is somewhere I cannot reach her.”

Kangee pulled away. “Mon père, I failed—”

Conrad held up his free hand, his heart breaking. He loved the fact that Kangee, from the day he’d married her mother, had insisted on using the French term for father. He ran a large thumb over her checks, wiping away her tears. “No, my daughter. You did not fail, for if you could have returned your mother to us all, you would have done so, just as I would have.”

“She is in the dark…” She shivered violently.

Conrad pulled her close. “Hush now. We shall speak of this with your grandmother.”

Once again, Grandmother was right. He’d joined her and the rest of the family earlier. The old woman had told him not to wait until morning, that his children needed him. Especially this child of his heart.

Kangee trembled in his arms. He glanced back at the chief. He spoke near-perfect Lakota so that all could understand him. “My wife’s family has arrived. They await us. He nodded toward his son who stood with his arms around Blaze. “I will take my daughters with me to their grandmother who waits.”

“We will accompany you,” Two Arrows said.

Conrad shook his head. “It is best if we go alone.”

The chief nodded thoughtfully. “Your family is welcome.”

Conrad turned his attention to his children. “Come.” He set the twins down, kept Skye in his arms, and pulled Kangee close, then led the way into the forest.

****

Restless and edgy, Night Warrior entered the forest, following a path that circled the lake. He walked until he tired, then pressed his back to the trunk of the tree, man and tree in perfect alignment in the night shadows. The shared dream with Kangee left him shaken, but taking her into his own forbidden dreamscape was worse.

Night Warrior shoved aside the painful and bitter memories that threatened, unwilling to remember or think about them for now and focused instead on Kangee and the ties that were tightening between them.

He couldn’t ignore the connection between them any more than he could ignore the danger he sensed each time she was drawn into the darkness. He had no experience or any idea how to deal with the evil he’d seen and heard, but one thing was clear. Whatever connected them had begun well before they’d met.

The part of him that accepted that he was a shaman, had always been a shaman, also understood that what was happening to Kangee and her mother was not taking place in the physical world. That meant he needed to travel through dreams.

At the back of his mind, always at the back of his mind, was that hideous voice urging him to accept death, even tempting him with visions of the Spirit World? Then came her voice, begging him to live, demanding that he return to pain and darkness.

For the first time, he admitted his experience was that of a shaman, for a shaman often traveled to other worlds to find answers and needed knowledge. He sighed. It no longer mattered what he wanted. Or even needed.

Kangee was in danger and nothing scared him more than the thought of her succumbing to something so evil as this monster called Ardong. His past belonged in the past, and if he was going to help her, he had to accept that what had made him what he was today was the very past he’d run from.

As a warrior, he expected to battle to the death for his people. Kangee and her family were under the protection of his tribe, and that meant he’d fight to save her or any member of her family. But this had been different. He’d felt the danger to her soul and his as well.

Once again, Night Warrior wished for the old shaman’s counsel. The thirst for knowledge that had once driven him as a boy to learn everything he could about the world he’d been born into demanded to know what was happening—to him and to Kangee. He had to find the answers. Not just for him, but for her and her mother.

He was wiser now than that young boy-man who’d allowed his need for answers to spin out of control. As an adult, he’d closed off that part of him and kept a tight rein on his mind, limiting himself to knowledge he needed to fulfill his position as a warrior, a strong leader, a fighter, and a provider. Being not just a warrior, but the best, was all he’d wanted.

Until the day he’d died.

Now his thirst for answers consumed him. His need for answers was as strong as his need to breathe. But this time, it wasn’t just to satisfy him. He needed the knowledge for others. Exhausted from lack of sleep and the events of the day, he lowered himself, closed his eyes, and concentrated on clearing and calming his mind.

He frowned when he felt vibrations in the ground. They traveled up his body, up the tree, and into him where he and the tree were one. He pressed his palm to the forest floor and focused on his Earth Mother.

He sensed many people walking with purpose. His brows lifted as he felt the scrape of claws raking into the ground. His brows rose. It no longer mattered that he could feel and sense far more than he should have. He used all that was available to him.

As was his habit, he wore his knife. He drew it from its leather sheath. The pull of torn muscles made him grit his teeth and transfer the knife into his left hand. Standing, he moved toward the intruders.

Once more, his body reminded him that he did not have the use of the warrior’s body he’d had weeks before. He ignored everything but the need to scout out possible danger to his people.

He crept and limped deeper into the forest, stopping every few feet to touch the ground or to sniff the air. Even the leaves of shrubs and plants trembled with knowledge of movement.

Night Warrior kept moving forward, following the scent of the intruders on the faint breath of air. The scent grew stronger, and his nose wrinkled when he caught the strong, musky scent that belonged to a bear.

He frowned but moved with more caution toward the approaching group. A slight breeze brought to him a single, sweet scent his body recognized. Kangee. He scented the air again, sure he had to be mistaken, but he wasn’t. He’d know her scent anywhere, anytime.

Her image, her sad, haunted eyes slid into his mind, distracting him for a moment, and then he realized that the intruders must be her family. When he caught a whiff of tobacco smoke favored by the trapper, he relaxed.

Surrounded by the nighttime forest, he paused. Would Kangee’s father take his children away? That thought settled like a heavy boulder in his belly. He’d grown used to having her around. Her presence calmed an ache that hounded him relentlessly.

He ran fingers over his chest, rubbing away the burning ache, then, needing to see her, to be closer to her, Night Warrior crept forward and spotted his sad-eyed woman standing beside her father with her brother and sisters forming a protective shield at her back. Everyone stood still and silent. As though waiting.

A thick wall of trees protected the tiny glen where the small family gathered. Over time, the trunks had thickened and banded together to form a hidden area accessible by either the small dry creek along one side or the gap facing the lake, on the opposite side where one of the trees had died and fallen.

So tall in life, the dead tree spanned the meadow at an angle, supported by the trees opposite. The thick canopy of branches and leaves blotted out all light but to the very heart of the meadow where tall green grass offered a blanket of softness and a sweet scent that surrounded Kangee and her family.

He made his way toward the creek bed, then leaned against a thick trunk, drawing in the flow of life. He stood there, still and silent, unseen and unheard yet from several feet away, Skye, cradled against her father’s chest, lifted her head and looked right at him.

Night Warrior shook his head, unsurprised that the young child knew he was there. It still came as a shock to him that any one person, let alone a small child, could wield such great power. He felt her whisper-soft touch brush his mind and had to admit that he shared a connection with her as well.

He was getting used to SpiritWalkers and their strange abilities, just as he was getting used to the fact that some of those abilities appeared to have transferred into him.

You chose life.

That had been Blaze’s answer as to why when she’d healed him, he’d become so much more than he’d once been. He ignored her earlier words, her command to fulfill his destiny. For now, it was enough that he was willing to use his abilities to help Kangee in whatever way was required. Past was past. The future could wait. His concern was with the here and now.

With the hint of a breeze brushing over his chest, he focused on the vibrations beneath his feet. Across the glen, shadows slipped from shadows as a pack of wolves emerged and fanned out around the heart of the meadow, taking up positions just inside the tree line. No one paid them any attention.

Night Warrior straightened, his attention sharp and focused when two wolves stopped close to where he hid. Both animals turned their heads, fixed their deep, golden-orange eyes on him.

He gripped his knife tighter, then nearly jumped when something furry brushed against his leg. Startled, he glanced into the brush to his right. A large bobcat sat looking up at him with intense golden-green eyes.

Night Warrior held his breath, then let it out when the cat turned and strode through the trees, walking without fear or hesitation through the pack of wolves pacing the perimeter of the glen.

He shook his head and wondered if he wasn’t caught up in his own dream, but then the entire day would be a dream for it had been a day unlike any other. He swiped a hand over his face, but the sound of voices drew his attention, though he kept an eye on the two wolves who’d taken up positions on the other side of the trees in front of him.

When he saw people emerging from the tree line behind the wolves, along with children, he decided to go. Now that he knew there was no threat to Kangee or his own tribe, he had no reason to stay.

Ready to return to his village and leave the family to their private reunion, he hesitated when a huge, lumbering bear squeezed through the opening between two trees. It carried upon its back an odd shape that, even with his sharpened sight, he could not make out.

He moved closer to the trees blocking his way, then stopped when the two wolves turned their heads and growled, the threat low in their throats, their eyes narrowed slits. He understood. They accepted his presence in the woods but would not allow him to intrude.

As he watched, several warriors strode over to the bear, reached up and lifted down a fur-covered bundle that, at first, looked like a child. The fur parted and revealed a tiny, old woman leaning on a short, thick walking stick. She whirled around, her walking stick pointed in his direction. A blast of air hit him square in the face.

“Show yourself,” she commanded in a gravelly, age-worn voice. She lifted one hand and beckoned him with a finger that age had bent and twisted.

Night Warrior hesitated. A low hiss and a nip at his heel startled him. He saw the glittering eyes of the cat. So engrossed in the tiny woman’s appearance, he hadn’t been aware that the cat had returned. He eyed it warily.

When the cat snarled, he held out a hand. “I’m going,” he told it, then slipped through the trees, walking with pride toward the old woman. Squaring his shoulders, chin up, he met the old woman’s dark, glittering gaze. She looked to be as old as time itself with her shock of white hair, the wrinkles upon wrinkles and shrunken, stooped body that looked far too fragile to stand upon its own.

“Your name.”

He gave her the respect her status as an elder demanded. “Unci. I am Night Warrior, son of Turtle Moon of the Turtle clan and cousin to Chief Two Arrows.”

Silence fell. The old woman shuffled toward him. In height, she barely came to his chest, making him feel as if he towered over a small child instead of an old woman. In fact, she was no taller than many of the children gathered around the edge of the forest watching him.

She gave a sharp snort. “Why does the cousin to a noble and brave chief hide in the dark? Are you afraid?”

Insulted, Night Warrior glared at the woman. “This warrior has nothing to fear, Unci. I do not mean to intrude. It is my duty to protect those in my village. I felt the presence of your people, and I came to see who traveled during the dark of night.” He didn’t mention that he’d already figured out what was going on and that it had been sheer curiosity that had kept him hidden behind the trees.

“Your hand.” The elderly woman held out her own claw-like hand.

Night Warrior held out his hand, surprised at the strong grip of the woman and a bit unnerved by the intensity of her gaze.

“You are one of us, yet not,” she proclaimed. “That is the answer you seek.”

Before he could comment, she raised her other hand. The bear lumbered forward, then rose onto its hind legs and towered over them. Aware that the woman watched avidly, eyes sparkling with what might have been devious humor, he held himself still but kept his grip on the knife that he had yet to sheath.

“Watch. See what we are. See what runs in your blood now. Then we will see how brave you are.”

Kangee stepped forward as though ready to protest, but at one look from her grandmother, she backed away. A hush overcame the dark meadow when the old woman lifted her walking stick and thrust it into the air. The air shimmered and crackled, causing the hairs on his arms to stand on edge. Around him, the air gathered and pulled together near the top of the walking stick where a large, translucent stone glowed. A sharp snap ripped the silence followed by the bright flare of light shooting from stone to clouds.

Light speared the sky, then spread, devouring the darkness. High above, the moon seemed to absorb the light. It grew brighter, sending down a stronger beam of light to circle him, the elderly woman, and the tall bear, leaving the rest of the group in an eerie shadowy glow. Night Warrior was aware of everyone watching him.

“I have seen the power of your people. A SpiritWalker healed me and the young child named Skye saved both my life and that of her sister today. There is nothing you can do that will frighten me. Your show of light demonstrates your power, but it does not scare this warrior.” He’d had enough scares this day to last him a lifetime.

The woman laughed, a long, wheezy sound that bent her over. “Spirit. Boy, you have spirit. Let us see how much.” She motioned to the bear. “Now,” she commanded. The bear pawed the air.

Night Warrior didn’t flinch, refused to give the old woman the satisfaction, but kept his wary gaze on the bear.

The edges of the bear blurred, thinned and shrank. Night Warrior blinked rapidly, then stared. Just stared at the tall warrior standing in the place where the bear had moments before towered over him.

The knife in his hand fell with a soft thud and missed his moccasin-clad foot by two blades of grass. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the tall, broad-shouldered warrior with those strange eyes that glowed with a silver sheen in the moonlight.

Kangee joined him. He looked at her. “You did not speak of this when you explained what it is to be a SpiritWalker.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I did not believe you were ready for this.” Her voice was low. Soft. A frown of disapproval marred her features.

He glared at the old woman, waiting for her explanation, but she jabbed him with one, long finger.

“Not ready,” she sighed. “Much work to be done before the boy is ready.” She turned to leave.

Kangee sent him a plea that begged understanding. “I am sorry, warrior of the night. Grandmother and my uncle had no right to do this to you.”

Her soft, husky voice warmed him from the inside out. Beneath the rays of moonshine, her hair glittered silvery-blue and her eyes shone with apology. “There are many things my people can do, just as there are things they should not do.” The look she gave her grandmother was full of love, admiration, and respect. She glanced back at him and frowned. “You are angry.”

He went to fold his arms across his chest, then remembered his wounds. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the bear. The light flashing up into the sky hadn’t shocked him, not after Kangee’s storm earlier, but the bear shifting, becoming a man? That was hard to accept yet it happened. How could he understand and grasp that these people could actually shift shape when he barely understood or accepted the changes within him? “I cannot learn about that which I am not told.”

Kangee nodded. “You have the right to know the truth. But there are much better ways to explain who and what we are,” she said, her tone one of disapproval as she narrowed her gaze at her grandmother. Then she shot her uncle a look of disappointment. “This is not the way of our people.”

The warrior shrugged. “I cannot refuse to obey when commanded.”

She waved a hand in dismissal. “Free will, Uncle.” Her fury slid into a frustrated sigh.

“Night Warrior, this warrior who acted more like a child is my uncle. Runs With Bear is normally well mannered. Our people do not show themselves to outsiders. It was wrong of him to do so without your consent or without lives being in danger.”

Runs With Bear bowed. “You are correct, my niece. I should not have frightened this young man.” His gaze challenged Night Warrior.

Night Warrior took one step forward. “There is a difference between being frightened and being faced with the impossible.” He issued his own challenge.

Kangee stepped between Night Warrior and her uncle as though afraid of a fight. She glared at the elderly woman. “Unci. This is your fault. Do you not have anything to say?”

The woman rocked forward and leaned on her walking stick. She considered her granddaughter’s words then narrowed her own eyes. “I have nothing to say.”

“Unci—”

Without warning, the wizened old woman drew herself up, her bent back suddenly stiff as a board, her amused demeanor fading into coldness. Though she spoke to Kangee, her powerful and sharp gaze held his. “The boy cannot hide from his fate. He will accept what is meant to be, what he is meant to be.” Her voice was firm. Authoritative.

Night Warrior bent over and snatched up his knife, hiding his wince of pain as he straightened, then sheathed the blade. “I was healed by one of your people, but that does not change who I am.” He was not ready to admit to others what he’d already accepted for himself. He also needed time to absorb what he’d just seen. Just how much of him had changed? He wasn’t a SpiritWalker, but he was no longer just a man.

“You wonder,” Grandmother said, as though she could read his mind. “It is time for you to accept your true position.”

“Free will,” Kangee said, her voice low, harsh. “It is his choice.”

“Do not worry, child.” Grandmother’s voice softened. “The choice of how he lives his life remains his.” She clapped her hands, and immediately one of the younger warriors stepped forward. “We will sit.”

The tall, broad-shouldered warrior lifted his hands, spoke softly, as though to the wind. He shimmered and, in the blink of an eye, he was gone, and in his place was a large tortoise. The ancient woman sat on the hard shell of the tortoise. Everyone but Night Warrior and Kangee gathered to sit in front of her grandmother.

Night Warrior backed away. “I will let my chief know of your arrival.”

“No. Stay,” Grandmother commanded. “This concerns you as well.”

Night Warrior hesitated.

You may run, but if you want answers, stay.

Dumbfounded that the old woman had spoken in his mind, he, his mind numb and reeling with shock, lifted his chin. He’d stay. And get answers.