Chapter Ten

Tendrils of morning fog draped the village with wraith-like moss found deep in the dark heart of the forest. Wood smoke rose from the village, adding a swirling, sullen layer trapped beneath the clinging moisture.

In tune with nature’s mood, the Turtle Clan tribe stood in hushed silence, everyone’s attention focused on the wall of pines closest to the lakeside of the village. Women clumped together in small groups while men and young warriors stood tall, alert, and silent, forming a protective ring around their women and children.

Word had spread that Kangee’s family of SpiritWalkers was due to arrive. Nerves warred with curiosity and excitement. Chief Two Arrows, at the suggestion of Night Warrior, Blaze, and Kangee, had gathered them together and explained that Kangee’s family were shape shifters as well.

No one wanted a tragic accident like the one that killed Blaze’s parents who’d been shot when they’d taken the form of eagles and were flying low over a lake. The warrior who’d killed them hadn’t known they were humans, SpiritWalkers, in the form of birds.

Kangee, surrounded by her family, waited impatiently. Blaze, Star Walker, Travers, and Alex stood to her right, her father and sisters to her left. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, impatient to talk once more to her grandmother. She needed someone to tell her how she was supposed to fight a Shattered Soul.

As she studied Night Warrior’s people, some curious, others nervous and afraid, she understood. To these people, she and her family were myth and legend. Just as she’d always believed that the stories of Shattered Souls, like the one trapped with her mother, were nothing more than a story used to frighten children into behaving.

But they were real. So how was she going to find the courage to not only face that spirit again but also fight it? Her heart pounded and a chill swept through her. This was beyond her. Grandmother expected too much. What if she failed? Scared at the very thought of losing her mother because she was not gifted or talented enough, to succeed at her task, Kangee shivered and pressed her fist into her stomach to calm her nerves.

Hugging her arms tightly around herself, she struggled to breathe and to keep panic from taking over. A firm hand on her shoulder steadied her. She turned her head and found Night Warrior staring at her with eyes that were dark and focused. He stood tall and proud, yet she saw the tiny lines etched around his mouth and eyes and knew that he was still in pain.

Her gaze drifted across his bare chest and the puckering wounds. She grimaced when she realized she hadn’t considered his injuries when she’d shoved him into the lake after sharing that wonderful, heart-stopping kiss.

Night Warrior leaned close. “You did not hurt me.” His breath skirted around her ear to warm her cheek.

Next time, you might not be so fortunate.

His deep, low chuckle made her grin, which eased her tension. With his body nearly touching hers, she couldn’t help but remember the feel of his wide strong shoulders and the long, lean strength of his torso. The injuries to his chest didn’t diminish her attraction to him, and just thinking about how her body had come alive when they’d held each other and shared that wondrous kiss sent heat gathering in her belly.

She wanted to turn, slide into his arms, and press her lips to his. To keep herself from giving in to her desires to touch her SpiritMate, she turned her back to him. Pride filled her that this proud, wounded man, refused to stand with hunched shoulders to spare himself pain.

In her heart, she’d already known he was hers—the ties between them were strong—but after sharing that kiss beneath the moon, there was no doubt in her mind or heart or soul—Night Warrior belonged to her.

With him standing behind her, she drew his warmth around her like a soft, comforting fur robe and let it draw the chill from her as she tried to clear thoughts of the future from her thoughts. Yet it was impossible not to think of Night Warrior. Dreams had drawn them together, but what they faced in those shadows could very well tear them apart and destroy them.

A low murmur swept the crowd. A pack of wolves emerged from the dark forest edging the village. Fog drifted around the animals.

“At last.” Kangee sighed.

The wolves padded their way down the center of the village, close enough for her to see and appreciate their beauty and grace and the wise intellect in their eyes. Two warriors with spears and bows in their hands followed. As soon as they entered the village, the wolf pack faded into the morning mist and slid back into the deep shadows of the trees.

Kangee, so in tune with her SpiritMate, felt his breath in her hair and the beating of his heart. Like hers, his raced with anticipation.

“They have arrived,” she whispered.

Night Warrior shifted so that he stood angled both behind and beside her, so close, her shoulder rested against his chest. He enjoyed the way Kangee’s head brushed against his shoulder, the sweep of her long hair sweeping across his thigh, sending shafts of desire shooting into every part of his body and mind.

He longed to put his arms around her, pull her against him, and feel her lips against his. She was soft where he was hard, whole where he was broken, and she didn’t care. There was no doubt she saw him as a man, and that made him want her even more, for during that brief moment beneath the moon, he’d felt complete. He’d been a warrior with hope and a future.

The boy cannot hide from his fate. He will accept what is meant to be—what he is meant to be. Her grandmother’s words echoed in his mind. What had she meant? Did she refer to his being a shaman or a SpiritWalker? Or both?

He accepted that death had changed him even though he didn’t understand why. He couldn’t argue that he was no longer Walks Like Turtle, warrior. He’d become Night Warrior—

Night Warrior what? Shaman or SpiritWalker? He couldn’t bring himself to admit he was both. He sighed. It wouldn’t be long before he’d have no choice but to admit the truth, but that time wasn’t now.

He breathed, once more pulling Kangee’s scent deep into his lungs. Her spirit filled him, flowing from his chest to the top of his head and down to his smallest toe. He wanted this woman with everything that was inside him. She’d declared them SpiritMates, and he wished that it could be so. Though he feared his heart belonged to Kangee, he could not give it to her.

“Watch,” she said, indicating a tall, slender, wildly exotic woman walking behind the two warriors. Three young children followed. The woman wore a deerskin dress with the waist nipped in. Fringe swayed and touched the tops of her moccasin-encased calves. A fur cape covered her shoulders.

“She is beautiful,” he said, his jaw dropping, awe hushing his voice.

A light pinch to his uninjured thigh made him wince. “Yes, she is. That is my aunt. Her name is Moon Dancer. Her husband is Runs with Bear. You met him last night. Moon Dancer is sister to my mother.”

One look at Moon Dancer, and he knew what Kangee would look like as she aged.

Kangee’s fingernail dug into his side. “You’re still staring.”

He tugged her hair. “I think today it is allowed.” He searched among her people. “Your uncle. Will he arrive as a bear?” He would never forget how the man towered over him with his long slashing claws.

She shrugged and hid her smile. “No one ever knows what form he will take.” She tipped her head toward another woman with two small children who’d joined Moon Dancer. The second woman was no less exotic than the first.

“Another aunt?”

“Moonsong, sister to my mother. Her husband died last winter. She has two children.”

“Died?” That bit of news startled him. “Your people…”

“We are as mortal as you and your people.”

A loud gasp rose from around them. Night Warrior returned his attention to the forest and also let out a gasp of appreciation. A large elk with a huge antler rack had stepped out of the woods. Mist swirled around the animal, parting as it moved forward. Upon its back, Kangee’s grandmother sat with her walking stick across her lap. But it wasn’t the sight of an old woman riding an elk that had everyone talking in excited whispers tinged with threads of fear. Two sleek, black cats, one positioned on either side of the elk padded silently through a fog that rolled out of the way as the cats moved. Heads down, shoulders and muscles quivering with restrained power, the cats stalked forward.

The smaller of the two cats opened its mouth and growled, baring long, needle-sharp teeth. Instantly, a buzz of alarm sounded throughout the village. Young children who’d begun to venture forward ran back to their mothers.

Beside him, Kangee chuckled. “Trust Grandmother to make an entrance that will become a story to be told and retold.” She glanced back at him. “This is how legends and myths and stories are created.”

Night Warrior nodded. He’d lived in this village his entire life, recalled the strange things Blaze had done as a child, the fear she’d instilled because of what she did. None of them, including Blaze herself, had had any idea just how different she truly was.

Glancing at his aunt, he wondered if his uncle had known their healer was a SpiritWalker. Given that his uncle might very well be among them as an owl, it would not surprise him to learn the old shaman had known the truth about Blaze.

He still had difficulty accepting there were people who looked like everyone else, spoke the same tongue, lived as they lived, yet those people were not the same. They were as different as the sun from the moon.

After today, no one in his tribe would be left in doubt that SpiritWalkers held astounding power, that they were as Kangee had told him—a separate race. They were The Chosen.

“What are those?” He managed to get his mouth moving. He’d never seen cats so large, so black, so sleek, or so powerful.

“They are panthers.” Kangee smiled as the graceful animals approach.

Night Warrior could not tear his gaze from the prowling cats. They vibrated with contained life and energy, yet looked ready to explode. He barely noticed the remaining warriors who brought up the rear of the procession and came to a halt until the warriors of Kangee’s tribe mirrored the warriors of the Turtle Clan as they too formed a protective ring around the two women and five children.

At the sound of a single sharp clap, two warriors stepped forward smartly to gently lift the elderly woman from the back of the elk. Kangee’s grandmother hobbled forward, her back hunched, her fingers thin and claw-like on the carved handle of her walking stick. But as soon as she reached the chief, she straightened her spine and speared the young warrior with her icy stare.

“We are SpiritWalkers. We are of the Earth Dwellers. We are the same; we are different. We are SpiritWalkers,” she announced, her voice strong despite her age and loud enough to reach each man and woman and child gathered. “We live among others, a people apart yet merged with those who share this world we call Earth Mother.” She finished her speech then stood silently.

Chief Two Arrows gave her a bow of respect. “You and your people are welcome, Grandmother. We are the Turtle clan, though there is one among us who is SpiritWalker.” He indicated Blaze.

Blaze took one step forward. “I am of the Air Seekers.”

Grandmother nodded. “A powerful tribe. I know of you, child. You are a great healer.” Her head whipped around and her fierce stare stabbed Night Warrior. He met the old woman’s brilliant green gaze with their patches of brown and yellow. Thin wisps of blue separated the colors, and right now, they held solid resolve.

The old woman approached him. For a long moment, the two stared at one another—an old woman who radiated power and a warrior determined not to show weakness.

Grandmother tapped her cane into the dirt twice. “You have two of The Chosen among you.” Her voice, her stance, dared Night Warrior to disagree. He remained silent. The elderly woman nodded then returned to Chief Two Arrows.

The low hum of whispering grew louder as speculation rose like water in the lake to slap against the shore. Night Warrior sighed. Though part of him longed to deny the truth he’d been determined to ignore and discount, what she said was true, and he felt a measure of relief in hearing someone say the words aloud. It gave him hope that one day his body would heal, and he’d once again be whole.

Yet the whisper of power, the yearning for power, the thirst for power frightened him. Becoming a SpiritWalker did not change who he was and take away his weaknesses. Instead, he feared his added power would tempt and corrupt him. How could he trust himself?

Grandmother swung her head back toward him as though she’d heard his thoughts. “Fear of repeating the past will keep you from making the same mistakes. Fear will keep you honorable.”

Night Warrior couldn’t fight this woman. He held himself proudly and nodded, accepting his fate and his future.

She lifted her hand. “You accepted the gift of life. Accept all that life now offers.”

Wise Owl stepped forward. “There is room in the lodge of Chief Two Arrows. You will stay with us?”

Grandmother nodded. “I am honored. Thank you.” Then her eyes brightened with devious humor as they once more rested on Night Warrior. She clapped her hands sharply. Twice. “See what we are, people of the Turtle Clan, but do not fear us for we join you in perfect love and perfect trust. Let it be known.”

The elk stepped forward with a shake of its antlers. The majestic animal blurred, his body shortening, compacting, shifting, revealing a man with shoulders as wide as an ancient tree. He wore a short tunic with fur and fringe, leggings, and moccasins. His knife and war axe hung from a belt around his waist. He nodded once toward Grandmother, then joined Moon Shadow and his children.

Though Night Warrior had known what was coming, the sight still amazed and thrilled him every bit as much as it had shocked him the night before. He shook his head and gave up trying to describe what he was seeing. Not everything was meant to be put into words.

Around him, voices rose and fell as everyone talked at once. There was shock and fear in the air, along with excitement. His people had dealt with Blaze and her healing abilities, especially when it came to his own recovery, then yesterday, with Kangee and Skye. Now that they saw people shifting shapes, he didn’t think anything could surprise them. Or him.

Kangee’s fingers gripped his arm. “Watch.”

Night Warrior followed her gaze to the two black cats sitting among a carpet of swirling mist. The smaller of the two nudged the largest. The animal shook his massive head and stepped away. In another blurring blink of an eye, the panther gave way to a man. This one was younger, with hair the same blue-black as the cat he’d been. His eyes were piercing shades of the sun and moon. He moved apart from his family.

“Dark Star,” Kangee murmured. “Youngest brother to my mother.”

“And the other cat?” A kernel of longing swept through him. What did it feel like to shift and change shape? To become what one was not?

Kangee laughed. “My aunt, Bright Star. Twin to Dark Star.”

But before the remaining black cat could shift, a small girl ran forward. A gasp rang out when the child halted inches from the cat. Unafraid, she lifted one hand and touched the soft nose of the cat. To the relief of those watching, the big cat gently rubbed her face against the child’s then stepped away. In a motion faster than any other, the cat shifted and there stood another young woman with blue-black hair hanging past her bottom in a sleek curtain. She stepped forward and picked up the child.

“Your daughter is brave.” Bright Star carried the child to her nervous mother, but the little girl wrapped her arms around the SpiritWalker.

The young mother sent the SpiritWalker a hesitant smile. “You are most welcome in our lodge.”

Bright Star nodded. “Go now with your mother,” she instructed the child. “I will come to see you soon.”

Her eyes shining, the child giggled and went into her mother’s arm.

Night Warrior blew his breath out as the two tribes merged. His people had accepted hers. “Some family, you have.”

Kangee sighed with happiness. “Yes. This is my family,” she said proudly as the village came to life. Children came together, and in the manner of children who so easily and even eagerly befriended those who were different, they began chatting. A group of boys ran off while the girls smiled shyly at one another. One girl held out a small, pure white feather. Moving her fingers, she floated her gift to a girl her own age who caught the feather and giggled.

Night Warrior had a feeling life was going to be very interesting for him and his people for however long Kangee’s family remained.

He followed her to join his family and hers. It did not surprise him to hear Wise Owl inviting Moon Dancer and her family to stay in their lodge. With so many of his cousins living elsewhere, their home offered plenty of room.

As though a signal sounded, the women from both tribes gathered in groups to fix a shared morning meal. The men of both clans readied themselves to go hunt for the celebration feast to welcome the newcomers that evening.

In the rush and bustle, no one noticed the arrival of a single warrior leading a group from the stream until they too entered the village. A wave of silence fell upon the excited village.

At her side, Kangee heard Night Warrior’s hiss of indrawn breath. She glanced up at him, then frowned when she noticed his attention fixed on a new group of visitors. He didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked downright displeased.

“Who are they?” Kangee asked.

A large woman in the group broke past the leading warriors. She hurried toward them. The rest of the warriors followed with more caution.

Gray Dove, Night Warrior’s younger sister poked her brother none too gently in the ribs. “Tatonga has arrived,” she announced.

“Who?” Kangee frowned. The woman heading toward them looked happy. Excited. Determined.

“She is the woman my brother promised to marry.”

Kangee couldn’t have heard right. She whirled around to look at Night Warrior. “You are to be married?”

At first, she thought Gray Dove was playing a prank, but the stony set to Night Warrior’s features said she’d told the truth.

“You didn’t tell me about this woman.” Kangee’s fingers curled into fists at her side, and her chest tightened into a hard knot that made breathing difficult. Surely, she hadn’t heard correctly. Night Warrior belonged to her.

“There was nothing to say,” he returned grimly.

She shoved past him, taking a perverse delight at his hiss of breath when her action knocked him off balance.

Night Warrior grabbed Kangee by the arm, but as soon as he touched her, the air whirled, pulling the cold, foggy air down and around him. It spun him around, then swirled back into the sky, leaving him sprawled on the ground.