The pretty newscaster with the gleaming white teeth acted very serious when she reported the story the next morning.
“It’s another rave gone wrong, this time in Denver’s own Cheesman Park.”
The camera cut to a panning shot of the park, where rain still fell on the torn-up lawn. Her chipper yet condescending voice-over narrated the scene. “Rave-goers came to support the victims of a mysterious illness contracted at an earlier rave, but they left the park a disaster, didn’t they, Brian?”
“Yes, Suzy, they did. The lawn was reportedly destroyed from a style of dancing called moshing.”
They cut to a clip. A woman with a face full of bruises talked about the most violent mosh pit she’d ever seen. “I swear, I watched people get ripped apart. I’m lucky I made it out alive.”
Back to the intrepid Suzy. “Along with the moshing came music so loud, it actually blew out local residents’ windows and damaged some buildings.”
Another cut, to a local and his incoherent take on what happened, including speculation that the pot smoke was so thick, it gave him and his neighbors hallucinations as they watched the concert from their balconies.
I wondered which box elder bug he’d been the night before.
When Kokopelli and Mana returned to the Third World, their Children reverted to human. Chasing Star Dancer carried them home. Well, the living ones at least.
Juke was gone. He was the only cicada the Sekutar managed to kill. She sat teary-eyed beside me on my couch, clutching a ragged scrap of t-shirt printed with a lightning bolt, one she’d given him a few months before.
Brian continued. “Police were called in, but rave-goers ran from the park before arrests could be made.”
Actually, they’d all exited via shadow.
“Tragically, the DJs in charge of the event were found dead on the scene of apparent drug overdoses and possible violence. Police are investigating the matter.”
The camera returned to Suzy and Brian in their bright, clean studio.
“Brian, are police speculating that the drugs the DJs took are related to the incident at their earlier rave?”
“It’s possible, Suzy.”
“And what about those other victims reportedly quarantined by the CDC?”
“We don’t have any more details on that yet, but we’ll let you know as soon as we do. Now, the weather. Looks like last night’s surprise storm will be lingering through the weekend.”
Amanda spoke, her voice flat. “That’ll be next week’s big news. Twenty-eight dead, contagion contained, memorial run planned. No music, please.”
Brand stood behind us. He gave Amanda’s shoulders a squeeze.
“I wasn’t in love.” Amanda wiped her eyes with the t-shirt. “I wasn’t.”
“It’s okay if you were,” Brand said. Juke had been about the closest thing Brand had to a friend among the other Sekutar.
Yes, I let Brand back in. Time would tell if I’d made a mistake. But Lina left me a message defending Brand, explaining how she made the decision on her own to try and cure Daphne. She said it was sweet of me to try and protect her, but I couldn’t choose her battles for her.
I realized that Brand’s intentions were good, but that he’s just an idiot sometimes.
Like me. Two of a kind.
Someone knocked on the door. I had a suspicion I knew who it was.
Ramona wore a gray suit almost identical to the one I’d ruined. The rawhide cord was gone. Her leather satchel sat at her feet.
I stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me.
Ramona smiled at me over her glasses. “I wanted to see you before I left. To thank you. And to see you.” She bit her lower lip.
“Ramona, we talked about this.”
“I know. And I’m teasing. A little.”
I relaxed. “Do you need a ride to the airport? What time’s your flight back to San Francisco?”
“Oh. No, thank you. Actually, I’m not going right back to San Francisco. After this, I think I need to get back home for a while. Not San Francisco, but my real home. Third Mesa, in Arizona.” She looked down at her bag. “I’m going with my Grandma.”
I looked down the hall. “Where is she?”
“Oh, she’s not here. She’s patching up the ones who got injured last night.” Ramona shrugged. “She’s still a doctor after all.”
“Your Grandmother’s not a doctor. She’s an engineer.”
Ramona tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
I’d had time to think about Grandmother Spider’s role in all this. The way she’d shown up at the right time. How she knew that Ravenwood would want to use Chasing Star Dancer to fight Kokopelli. It was her only chance to free the Kachina.
She was a doctor, true. But she was also a spider. And spiders can weave big webs to catch what they want.
I smiled at Ramona. “Nothing. Just a little joke.”
Ramona shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I did come for one more reason. I know you said you’re grateful to the Kachina who cleansed you of the vampire blood.”
“I am.”
“There’s a Hopi ceremony at midsummer, called the Niman ceremony. That’s when the Kachinas depart this world for their spiritual home, until they return at the Soyal ceremony in December. When they go, they take the prayers of the people with them. Chasing Star Dancer will go with the rest of the Kachinas. I thought you might like to say a prayer of thanksgiving for Chasing Star Dancer to take back with him. So, I’m inviting you.”
I nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you. I’m honored.”
***
My hair took its time growing back. Figures. So the next day I went out and had the rest cut short to match. I’ve always had long hair so it felt weird. It did have the advantage of taking away an opponent’s potential handhold and felt cool in the summer heat, so I considered keeping it short. But I missed the way the ends tickled the top of my ass when I got undressed.
When I came back, Jessica looked over my short hair and grinned.
“What? You don’t like it?” I ran a hand over the tips to make sure they weren’t sticking up funny.
“No, I do, it’s cute on you.”
“But what?”
She shrugged. “You know what they say. A woman changes her hair, she changes her life.”
“That’s it. I’m growing it back out. I can only take so much change.”
***
Midsummer’s day, I stood out in the Arizona desert with the sand under my bare feet and studied the mesa rising up against the horizon. Fire ants scurried in and out of the hole they’d made, whose hill I’d accidentally stepped on. They swarmed over my feet, biting the enemy who disturbed their home. A hopeless waste of energy on their part – I didn’t feel any pain.
I walked on. Sweat trickled down my neck and pooled in the hollows behind my clavicles. This land was sacred to the Hopi, to Grandmother Spider. To the Kachinas.
Ramona waited ahead, ready to help me say thank you. I’d brought offerings and hoped they’d be accepted.
Clouds gathered over the mesa. A cool wind picked up, bringing the clean smell of coming rain.