Ahanu was warm.

It seemed as though that was all he could remember. Heat. Damp and sticky, then dry and parched. Heat that at first left him shaking, but later only let him lie still, unable to move his extremities.

Or feel his body.

For a brief moment he recalled something other than heat. His mother’s smile, as she laughed at some joke. Her cool hands as she wiped the sweat from his brow.

Her tears, mingling with those of his tall, stoic father. They held each other as they shook with tears. Normally, it would have alarmed him. They never cried, were always filled with strength and laughter. It made him wonder why they were so sad. But it...didn’t seem important just now.

The heat receded and there was no physical sensation. He must have eyes, though, because he could see. His parents covered him with the warm furs he had helped his father cure just that spring. They stroked his long, tangled hair back from his face, kissed his forehead.

Then they covered up his face.

There was no sadness in him. No sense of loss. He watched these people below him. They were beautiful, the mother’s lined cheeks and the few silver strands in her dark hair. The father’s strong hands and the way he shouldered all their pain.

He could feel a rushing around him, like a shallow river, flowing endlessly but without the force to sweep him away. That was life, that rushing. Things that came into existence one moment, only to be swept away the next. Never permanent. Even the big boulders in the river wore away with time.

He felt like he should be going somewhere, but he hesitated. He didn’t feel pain or sadness, only the joy of his being. But he did feel...attachment?

He didn’t want to go on. But he didn’t want to return either. That small body down there wasn’t his anymore. It was like a shirt that was too small. Outgrown.

He drew in the essence that seemed to be him now. And he found he could direct it.

He wandered, blowing about the village, smiling in his mind’s eye at the antics of the younger children. And the antics of the adults as well. One of the grandmothers needed a new blanket, but she was proud and wouldn’t ask. He should tell his older sister, so she could slip one into the woman’s pallet. One of the little boys struggled with his bow, slower to learn than his brothers. Ahanu could teach him. Just like his father had taught Ahanu. The others just weren’t patient enough with the little one. He watched an older girl slip into the woods. If Ahanu were still a boy, he would follow her and make sure no bears found her.

He was about to do that anyway, when a sound reached him. He sort of spun in place, blowing about, trying to find the sound. A mother was crying. Oh. His mother. He wished he could protect them all. But no one could see him, or even sense him.

He found the old shaman woman and circled her head, wishing he had a voice to shout “I’m here! Your ancestor spirit. Let me help you!”

She was old, and her power was fading. She didn’t hear him. But she did brush at the air, as if she could almost feel his touch.

Frustrated, Ahanu rose up, up, up into the air, reaching for the clouds. They turned misty around him and he felt a change in the forces that had pressed in around him. Looking down at the world, the view would have made him breathless, if he had lungs to breathe.

As he looked down, he was startled to find he had feet! His bare toes pressed into the misty softness of the floating clouds around him, but he wasn’t so solid that he fell through. Event the clouds had more physical being than he did.

What now? He wondered. And then the first hint of emotion that he had felt since he died rose up in him. Loneliness.

He was supposed to go somewhere, could feel the place tugging at him. One of wonder and light. But he didn’t want to leave this place. He sat on the edge of the cloud and dangled his feet. He was a wandering spirit. It wasn’t as if it would hurt to fall.

He drifted with the cloud for quite some time. Away from his village. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he thought he could get back there quite easily any time he chose. He watched as a flock of birds flew by, far below him. Their feathers were black, and so sleek they glinted in the sun. He had always wished he could fly.

Ahanu.

The voice in his mind...in his very being...made him startle so that he fell off his cloud. He let out a whoop of sound—something he didn’t think he had been capable of a few moments ago. Certainly not at his village. He flapped his arms like the birds below as he rapidly approached them.

Laughter bubbled up from inside him. He could pretend to be a bird. For a moment. He wondered how far he would fall if he hit the ground. Would he fall through the earth, down to where the dark things lived?

Glancing up, he flapped his wings. He had wings? He turned his head. Sleek black wings. He pumped his wings and managed to angle his body upward, rejoining the flock of ravens. But he soon grew bored with this. He flapped up higher, to the clouds once more. Perched there, he watched the world roll by.

Who are you? He asked in his head. Where had that voice come from before?

We are everything. The voice replied. We are the fleet-footed rabbits, we are the lumbering bears, we are the earth and the worm. We are the people and the water and the air.

A woman appeared, sitting on the cloud beside him. Her long, flowing hair was every color he could think of. And so were her wide, luminous eyes. Her smiling face was soft and kind. Like a mother’s face he thought. She was dressed in creamy white leather and furs, and there were feathers in her hair.

She looked down at the world below with a loving smile. Why are you here, Ahanu? She asked.

He became a boy-shape again and sat beside her. I don’t want to leave them he said honestly. I want to stay here. But...I can’t help them.

She tilted her head, those curious, wide eyes studying him. That is the essence of you, she said in his mind. You care for others, and you do it with the spirit of a child—without judgement.

He shook his head at that. It sounded too adult for his liking. I just like to see people be happy. He shrugged. Especially mothers. There is something in them...how they shape the world. The woman who was my mother. The young girls in the village. You....

She laughed, a sound like rippling water in a brook, flowing about and lightening his whole being. You cannot sit here on this cloud forever, little spirit. You can go, if you’d like. On to something else. Her smile was secretive. Like a parent that had a hidden gift. She’d never tell.

Or...there are also some of my children who need your help. If you are willing. The choice is yours.

Ahanu thought about that for a long time as he kicked his feet and stared down at the passing world below. How can I help them if I’m dead?

She laughed. They will see you. When it is time. Until then you will get to know them. Watch over them. Bolster them with your spirit, even though they cannot see.

He smiled at her. I would like that. Do they have children? Like me?

She smiled back and reached out a hand to ruffle his hair. They will, perhaps. The immenseness of who he was speaking with washed over him with her touch. A sense of all-knowing. Of seeing everything at once, an intricately detailed weaving that his senses could never hope to follow.

It will be difficult she told him. The events in people’s lives shape them, make their spirit shine through. Just as your experiences have made you so caring and brave for the sake of the others around you. The ones who need you...they are still being forged. About to be made. And they will not realize the purpose they are rushing toward. Much as the river is unaware it is rushing toward the sea.

Ahanu nodded. Pure understanding washed over him with her touch. Things in the world were in constant ebb and flow, constant change. And the Great Spirit’s hand guided them.

I want to stay he said. I want to help them not be afraid.

She nodded. The Great Spirit had known what his answer would be, he was sure. Little raven, she said as she started to fade away from this temporary form she had shown him. Follow the sound of a fierce heart. It will lead you to her. Watch her. Wait for her. Push away the darkness where you can.

Then she was gone. Ahanu resumed his bird-form as if it were natural to him. And dropped through the cloud.

He was solid! Letting out a croak of surprise, he snapped his wings open and righted himself.

He could feel it, just what the Great Spirit had said. A warm, slow heartbeat laced with magic and pride. He flew toward the sensation, like an arrow toward an unsuspecting deer. Knowing his aim was true, he rushed toward the shaman.

*****

Ahanu had knowledge he didn’t think he had when he was alive. He knew things a child wouldn’t know. This too, it seemed, had been a gift to him from the Great Spirit...or maybe an awakening of the knowledge he already carried in his soul from other lifetimes? Sometimes he wondered where souls went, and whether they came back again. But mostly, it seemed not to matter the way it had when he was alive. He would go where he went, when he went, and it was so natural it didn’t warrant thought.

He ruffled his feathers against a chill and settled on his treetop perch to watch.

The strong heart.

She walked among her villagers and he saw things that were unspoken in the way she drew the gazes of the people she passed. She was a beautiful woman, tall and strong as a man, graceful, with long flowing black hair that shone in the light of the midday sun. She paused here and there to talk to her elders or play with the little children. She helped wherever she was needed, and solved problems with a quick mind and a ready hand. They loved her.

He flew over to land on the roof of the older shaman woman’s home, cocking his head to listen as the young woman entered. The argument was an old one, as he understood it. Hanging Cloud didn’t want to be a medicine woman. She denied her shaman nature. She wanted adventure, hunting and fighting. Concrete problems to solve with her physical power and agility.

He clucked to himself. She had a deeper purpose. And it seemed she was going to fight it all the way.

She exited the tipi and headed off into the woods, a bow slung over her shoulder and arrows in a sling over her back. He had watched her long enough to know where she was going. She would always bring back a rabbit or two for the village pot. But that wasn’t the reason she went into the woods alone every day.

Ahanu fluttered through the trees, careful not to clip his wings on the branches—it was a lesson he’d learned the hard way. He might be a ghost, but this bird’s body was real, and it could feel pain.

He perched up high and watched as Hanging Cloud put aside her bow and opened her arms, eyes closed, chanting. She called up the magic inside her, embracing her shaman heritage where no one could see her. She opened her eyes and they glowed a soft golden brown, lightened with her power.

“I see you,” she whispered, eyes searching the woods. “What messages do you have for me?”

Ahanu had seen the elders speak with the supernatural creatures in the woods. It was nothing like this. Their speaking had more to do with herbs and rituals and ceremony. Cloud was as direct in this as everything else in her life.

He had tried to show himself to her that first day, but it seemed his boy form was beyond him now. He could feel that part of him waiting beneath the surface. But it wasn’t time.

The creatures came to surround her, slowly and cautiously, peering out from behind rocks and trees. They were wary of man. Just as man was wise to be wary of them. Cloud did this most days. She presented herself to them and took their messages back to the village. She could communicate with them more directly than the elders. But she never told the elders that. She simply used the information the creatures presented to try to sway the council and her father when decisions were being made.

Ahanu would have laughed if he was human. She was doing everything she could to help smooth the way, to keep her people safe from the spirit realm—without letting the elders tie her to a position amongst them.

A dark shadow slithered across the leaves and Ahanu watched with wide eyes. He had instructions to watch until it was time to help. Was now the time? He prepared to launch himself off his branch and attack. But Cloud beat him to it, spinning and stabbing a small knife through the shadow lizard, letting her magic flow through the blade.

It wasn’t enough to kill the creature, but it was enough to get it to retreat. Cloud might commune with them, but she shared the approach of the rest of her people—please the spirits enough to ensure you could live in relative peace and happiness, but never completely trust them or you might end up prey.

The more harmless creatures around her fled and she straightened with a sigh, slipping her knife in her belt. She pushed on through the woods, until she came to the rambling blackberry patch. She went silent footed, creeping toward the bushes like one of the spirit creatures, then springing up to startle the lovely, round girl picking berries there.

“Hanging Cloud!” the woman gasped, scrambling to catch her basket before it spilled. “I feared a big cat had me!” She slapped lightly at Cloud’s shoulder but didn’t fight it too hard when Cloud swept her up into a twirling hug and planted a kiss on her lips.

The woman went all red in the cheeks and looked down at her basket. “I sent the children back already,” she said softly.

One corner of Cloud’s mouth lifted in a smile. Ahanu rolled his eyes. He might be a kid, but he had lived in a thriving village, with shared housing and working eyes and ears. He knew what adults got up to when they had that look in their eyes.

And Cloud got up to it a lot.

She had two lovers, male and female. It figured the woman with that big, strong heart and soul would able to embody male and female as naturally as breathing. She was soft when needed, strong and unyielding when needed, and perfectly comfortable with both roles. She was both mother nurturer and warrior protector.

Ahanu preened. The Great Spirit had chosen well, of course.

He watched her as she went about her days, lived her life with grace and growing promise. He could see the chief in her. And the wise-woman. What a woman she might be, when her hair was silver, and her face lined with the wisdom of life. Would he watch her for so long?

Not so long, the voice of the Great Spirit whispered. But longer.

He could feel a darkness building around him as the days passed. He started paying attention to more than just the chief’s daughter. The white settlers in the area were not used to the creatures who lived here. They couldn’t see them. Didn’t fear them.

They were easy prey.

He observed it all. How the new people upset the balance and rituals of the ancients. How the creatures preyed on the new people. How the new people began to prey on the natives, their spirits corroded and poisoned by contact with the darker of the unseen. They spread disease, used firearms and manipulation. As if all beings were not one, born from the same Great Spirit.

He cried his worry to the creator. Cloud’s people would suffer—all their people would suffer. And yet, still he was told to watch. The human in him wanted to cry with fear for what was to come. The animal in him sat back and felt that there was a naturalness, an ebb and flow, even in this, that gently nudged the world in a certain direction.

He watched with a heavy heart, but a calm mind, as Cloud’s grandmother tried too hard to communicate with the creatures and was taken over by one of them, a particularly malicious spirit. As Cloud rode off with her father to a peace meeting, only to be ambushed, the chief and half the braves slaughtered by the foreign men ridden by darkness.

The supernatural creatures gloried in their ability to cause chaos. They could manipulate the new people. They no longer had to live with the uneasy peace forced on them by the natives. They had no idea that the downfall of a people would also be their own downfall as well, many moons from now.

He watched as Cloud returned from war to find her village decimated by the monster that was her grandmother. He watched her, helpless—knowing these events were needed—as Cloud killed her last remaining family member. As Cloud was changed. Made into something darkly powerful. He watched her lift her chin with cold purpose and draw her remaining people around her. Now? He asked the Great Spirit. She needs me now.

There was no answer.

Ahanu fluttered down to land on the ground near Hanging Cloud. She glanced his way, not leaving her seat on a large rock. Her eyes were shadowed with the things she had seen during the long days following her father’s death. She had been forced to kill her own grandmother to save the village. She had taken into her a power and a responsibility that she never wanted.

He thought of his big sisters and how they always wanted to be grown-ups, so they could order the rest of the kids around. Real grown-ups would rather be kids, he thought. Their eyes grew weary, just like Cloud’s were now, when that responsibility landed on them for real.

“Hello, pretty bird,” Cloud whispered in her husky alto. Tears hung heavy in her brown eyes, making them glisten. “Are you an ancestor, come to help me in my time of need?”

She tried for humor, but there was no hiding the note of panic and hope in her voice. Ahanu croaked at her, making her startle. When she stayed sitting, he walked toward her over the uneven ground, probably looking as silly as he felt. Birds were not meant for ground travel. He stopped by her rock and looked up at her. He wanted to change so he could speak to her, give her comfort, tell her the Great Spirit had plans for her. That they watched over her.

But he couldn’t turn into a boy.

Cloud’s tears managed to overflow, painting glistening rivers on her beautiful cheeks. “Binishii?” she whispered. “My little bird, is that you?”

Ahanu’s heart broke for her. No, he wasn’t her lost lover’s spirit. He dipped his head, then he looked up, willing her to see him.

Her voice cracked. “Animikii, I could use your thunder right now.”

No, he wasn’t either of her lovers. Ahanu clucked in agitation. Why? Why couldn’t he talk to her?

Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “Father? Chief...please? Grandmother?”

No. He couldn’t be who she wanted.

A harsh sound escaped her, and she stood suddenly, throwing up her arms. “Ancestors? I’m talking to a bird. A stupid bird.” She pulled at her own hair and paced, causing Ahanu to hop back a few steps. “Why would the gods send a messenger, when they couldn’t be bothered to save my people?” She kicked decaying leaves at him. “Go! Leave. Whatever you are, I don’t need you. All the spirits ever bring is pain.”

Ahanu took to the air in surprise. She didn’t want him? She blamed the gods for her pain.

It is necessary, the knowing voice in his head reminded him. To make her who she needs to be.

It wasn’t time for her to see him yet. And still, he watched.

Years passed. His strong-hearted Hanging Cloud fought fiercely. She rode with the men in battle against the creatures who dogged their steps and the new people who were destined to destroy their world. He deflected the worst of the darkness when he could. Led some of the nastier spirits away.

And in the cold darkness of the night, when his warrior lay down to sleep, he crept near and lent his spirit to her, to calm the tears and violent thrashing of her nightmares.

He watched as she slowly lost everyone she loved, either by violence or her unnatural longevity. He watched as others like her appeared from time to time, and they all worked to beat back the darkness. He did his best to guard his warrior’s strong heart, but he feared that it was weakening.

Then they found her.

*****

Tess was a surprise to him. And at the same time not a surprise at all. The passage of years had taken his memories of his life, but something about this woman reminded him of being alive. He flew over her in the park one day, where she was sitting eating her lunch. Something in him was drawn to her where she sat on this green oasis among the glass and concrete of the modern world.

He fluttered down to watch her. A pretty woman, with curly brown hair, curves that had adults eyeing her like food, and bright blue eyes that sparkled with laughter. Those bright eyes followed the antics of a small boy as he tumbled about the playground, full of energy and vitality, and that light that all children seemed to have. The woman had that light too—as if she had managed to bring it with her, keep her inner child near as she grew.

Ahanu rested near them for a long time, just feeling at ease in their presence. Here was someone happy and alive. Someone who was not haunted by their pain. With one last glance at the happy mother and her child, he launched himself skyward to seek out his warrior with her lost heart.

He returned to Cloud and stayed at her side, unacknowledged as she hid in shadows and fought her never-ending battle against the dark creatures who preyed on humans. He still couldn’t talk to her. Couldn’t tell her what he had seen in his long years as a ghost. That not all supernatural creatures were bad.

That not all humans were good.

That the world was filled with shades of gray, shadows that gave richness to the thin sketches of darkness and light.

He returned to the happy woman and her child often. It gave him solace. She was so joyful, so filled with all her life offered. He watched her playfully harass her father when he came to visit. He watched her dance with her husband at night when the house was silent. He watched her light and her soul reflected in the faces of her husband and child.

But in the night, when Ahanu dozed in the treetops, he sometimes sensed something else. Something powerful and dark. And it followed the happy woman like a curious shadow. It gave Ahanu chills, and yet somehow filled him with a hint of that same awe he felt in the presence of the Great Spirit.

Death was following his pretty sunbeam. Stalking her like a panther in the tall grass.

There is a time for everything, the Great Spirit reminded him. And all things are connected.

Ahanu wanted to tell Death to leave her alone. That she was so bright when so much of his time was spent in the darkness with the hunters...it hurt. He wanted to protect her too. To shield her as he hadn’t been able to shield Cloud.

But he knew the Great Spirit was right. There was always balance, ebb and flow. Disrupting that had horrible consequences. He had seen it from time to time. The balance, if tipped too far one way, would right itself violently, often by tipping so far in the other direction that chaos ensued.

Look at the seas, the Great Spirit reminded him. See them roll and thrash, see them calm and flat. Feel the seasons harsh and cold, then searing hot. Nothing in this world is static. Nothing ever stays the same.

And so, things changed. The supernatural creatures were being pushed into a corner. Their territory vanishing and their prey out numbering them. Their plan to rid the world of those who could see them backfired. Now hardly anyone knew they were there. No one paid them reverence. They became vicious in their desperation to live.

And the hunters responded in kind.

It was brutal.

Cloud found allies, and he hoped her heart would grow stronger once more. But he knew it wasn’t so. She only grew more distant and cold.

And his light...the place he went for comfort....

He fluttered down to a high windowsill on the tall cement building where she was. He hardly saw her away from here now. Her smiles were gone. Her little boy was dying. His spirit clung to his body, to be near his parents and the things he knew. But Ahanu saw it the moment the little spirit realized the pain wasn’t worth the struggle. That there was more beyond.

Death sat at his side, reached out and caressed his little head. The boy smiled once in his sleep. Then his spirit left his body.

Ahanu watched the spirit waver, and he remembered his own confusion. The spirit loved his father. It needed its mother.... He reached inside himself. And for one moment, he was a boy again. An unseen ghost, standing on the window ledge. All will be well, he told the other boy. I will watch over her.

The spirit was already fading, but it smiled at him. Then it went...wherever the spirits went. And Ahanu was a bird once more. Sitting on his lonely ledge, he watched the sparkle in those pretty blue eyes fade a bit more. He watched in wonder as Death stood by the woman’s side, his aura full of remorse for being what he was.

The gods were not allowed to feel remorse. They didn’t think about what they were...they simply were.

He is changing, the Great Spirit whispered to him. Just as this world is changing.

Ahanu’s soul felt heavy. He had hoped the woman...Tess...could keep her light. Even just a little while longer. She had felt familiar...like home. Like his mother.

*****

Cloud was exhausted. Ahanu watched her drop to sit on a bench outside her rented hotel room. She was sweaty and bruised, covered in nicks and abrasions. Her clothes were ripped, and her magic was depleted. “Gods damn it,” she whispered as she tilted her head back, taking in a deep breath, her long throat working as she swallowed against what he knew were rage and sadness.

He watched the cuts heal. The bruises fade. She had drunk the blood of her last kill, and now she would heal. And hate herself for needing to kill to live.

She pushed to her feet, looking tired still, even though she was healed. Ahanu stayed in the shadows. She had noticed him in the past and accused him of being one of them, a spy for the dark creatures. Her strong heart was gone. Replaced by ice and will, and tired determination.

Ahanu tilted his head. There was another creature close by. Dark. Hungry.

Cloud sighed, not yet feeling it. She went to her rented bed to sleep alone, to prepare for yet another battle with the arrival of the next night.

Ahanu felt pulled in another direction. He knew enough to follow his instincts. Winging away into the purple-black of the fading night, he flew toward the woman with the fading spark.

Tess was at the hospital place again. When he arrived, he could feel her in there, though she was somewhere he could not see. He waited for a long time, feeling her pain, as connected to her now as he was to Cloud. He was perched in a decorative cherry tree when she emerged, well into the daylight hours. Her face was red, and she shuffled along as if she were half dead.

Death followed her. Ahanu watched in surprise as the god reached out and stroked her head lovingly in parting. The woman survived the touch, unaware that the god was even there. The apparition faded, and she sank down onto a bench on the sidewalk.

“Barrett,” she whispered. Her eyes streamed again, but it seemed she was too wrung out to sob the way she might.

Her husband then.

Ahanu watched her, head tilted. Her spark was fading. All that overflowing soul was gone. His chest ached. He fluttered down to land on the bench beside her. She barely noticed. When she did, she stared at him with dull blue eyes. “They’re all gone,” she whispered. “My mom, Toby, Barrett...I...I want to die too.”

Ahanu croaked in alarm. No. She couldn’t die. All things passed in their time. But Tess...she was special. She was his. Like Cloud. Like the sun. Even if her light had dimmed.

Soon. The Great Spirit whispered.

*****

He watched her as she faded. As she drew away from the world.

He watched as the bright soul became a monster.

The wendigo was new, and it had no control over its instincts. It had just enough human sensibility left to be jealous. It saw Death’s imprint on Tess’s soul. It was enraged. Angry that Death favored a human.

Ahanu was there that night, hunting with Cloud. He flew on ahead and saw Tess walking along the Lake Huron shore, alone in the forest. His heart ached for her. She was lost. Drunk and reeling and begging the Gods to let her die so she could join her husband and child.

He wondered if his parents had mourned him so. But then...they’d still had each other and his brothers and sisters. Tess was withdrawn. Estranged from her father. And her unique spirit was more open to the hurt than most.

He felt useless as he watched. As he felt the wendigo rushing toward her. Maybe the gods were about to grant her wish for oblivion. Maybe she wasn’t as important to the Great Spirit as Ahanu had assumed. Was he to merely watch forever and do nothing?

Something like anger tingled over Ahanu. It was strange. He rarely felt such things anymore.

He flew back to Cloud, drove her on with all his being. Urged her to save the soul that had been so full and bright. She couldn’t know what he wanted, or what he even really was. But his calls and the beat of his wings seemed to speed her on her way as she pulled on her shadowy hunter’s magic to speed through the forest toward her quarry.

Ahanu looked on as Cloud saved Tess from the Wendigo.

He knew Cloud should let Tess bleed out. Maybe even end the human with her own enchanted blade.

Instead she stepped back into the shadows, hidden from sight until the woman passed out on the sand. Then his warrior. His cold, hardened Hanging Cloud slipped from the shadows and knelt where the woman lay. He hadn’t seen her pay any attention to a human in years. She usually just did her duty, killed the monsters, put any of the lost out of their misery, then left without a backward glance.

She slipped a hand through Tess’s tangled hair to find her throat, feeling for a pulse. Then she sat back with a relieved sigh, staring thoughtfully at the dark form of the other woman with her enhanced night vision. Ahanu was shocked when the hunter reached out and stroked the woman’s long hair once more before standing and walking away.

The raven was torn. He knew he should go with Cloud. It was his duty to be with her until she needed him. But he wanted to stay here and make sure Tess survived.

It is time, The Great Spirit whispered in his mind. She needs you now.

He prepared to launch himself after the hunter. No, little bird that voice said again. She needs you to stay here.

Ahanu looked to Tess, lying unconscious on the ground. He suddenly knew why he had been drawn to Tess. She was important. The inner knowing, the instinct granted to him by the one who made him, felt it deep inside. Tess had to live.

She will save them all, the Spirit whispered in his mind, a sad smile in her voice. The world needs her.

*****

Tess couldn’t see who Ahanu was, not at first. But she seemed to know he was for her, even from the beginning. The joy of being seen, even as a bird, was overwhelming.

He watched Tess hide her wounded soul behind her words. Watched how her actions belied her jaded front. He watched her act with her heart, even when she was hurting.

The first time he watched Cloud and Tess fight, threatening all sorts of violence and mayhem, he knew. He saw it clear as day.

Cloud was finding her heart again. And Tess was finding her soul.

Something bigger was building on the horizon. And they needed to be whole to face it and become what they were destined to become.

A warrior. A mother. A leader. A fighter. Life’s energy and Death’s balance. More than human. More than a toy of the gods. A voice for those who could not speak, and a swift arrow for those who could not fight.

Ahanu’s spirit grew stronger with the knowledge. Drawing on his purpose, he shook free from his feathers...and stood.

Tess stared at him with wide blue eyes. She had hoped he was the spirit of her son.

“I’m not your Toby,” he said, in a strange hallow voice like a whisper in an empty tunnel.

She nodded, and he thought a part of her might actually be relieved.  “I see.”

He smiled then, like a...well like a kid. “Finally.”

It had started. Change was coming. He could feel it like a cold, rushing wind through his feathers. It made him almost giddy with expectation. A million words rushed to his tongue. But that wasn’t what she needed now.

She wiped her tears away with her hands as she sank onto a rock, accepting that her son was gone. That Ahanu’s presence meant one more strange thing in her life. The life she didn’t want.

“Well,” She sighed. “I see you now. Who are you?”

He tilted his head. “Ahanu,” he said, the answer obvious to him.

She shook her head. “Are you really a ghost? Or a bird?”

He moved toward her, and she watched in fascination. “Both,” he replied with a shrug. “And neither, I suppose.”

“Are you here to...what—protect me or something?”

He smiled and rocked up onto his toes and back down. He had thought so, once, but now he wasn’t so sure. “I don’t really know,” he said, eyes going distant. “I died. And the Great Spirit said I could choose. I could go on to what waited, or, the Spirit said she could use my help.”

He looked into those wary blue eyes. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay, but I was afraid to...go somewhere. So, I stayed. And here we are.” He smiled again, surer than ever that this was where he was meant to be.

Tess shook her head. “What would the ghost of a dead Indian boy want with me?”

That knowing settled on him again as he stared into her deep blue eyes. “I’m here to remind you who you are.”

Darkness was coming. Hardship and pain. An upset in the balance of the world that would start right here.

It was his duty to help create a force that would be able to push back against the darkness, to shape it into something new.

Ahanu threw back his head and shifted to bird form. Glorying in the feel of the night air through his feathers, he winged away, to get Cloud. To unite a heart and soul.

There was warmth. And he remembered another time, distant and unreal, when he had floated in darkness surrounded by heat. This time it was the fire of purpose that lit him. And all the while he felt the river of life flow around him in rushes and splashes.

Sometimes, the Great Spirit whispered in his mind, one small voice amid the chaos can make all the difference.

*****

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