Spiritwalkers: Caller, Part One

[aithne]

Nascha found Ahiga by himself with the horses, evidently feeling just about as useless as she did at the moment. Una snorted when she saw Nascha and came over for a scratching. Nascha complied, and as she was doing so glanced over at Ahiga. "Can you hear me?" she asked him silently.

He glanced at her, puzzled. "I can hear you, what?"

There was an abrupt lump in Nascha's throat, joy and sorrow warring. "I'm not speaking aloud."

Ahiga was staring at her now. "You didn't?"

"I didn't," she said silently, and then changed to speaking aloud, feeling resistance coming from him. "Well, evidently there's not one but two spiritwalkers in the family."

"I am spiritwalker? Can't be." Ahiga was shaking his head, disbelieving.

"That's what I said, too. I asked the question, and you answered. You're one of us." She reached out to the rest, said silently, "Ahiga is one of us."

Cheveyo answered, not sounding surprised in the least. "That's one. Four more to find. If he is willing."

She turned her attention back to Ahiga, who was still looking stunned. "Are you willing to come with us, and be one of us?" she asked him.

Ahiga took a sharp breath, and his face had lines on it that she hadn't seen since Sakhyo had been in labor with their son. "I want the same as you. Sakhyo back, and Nastas."

"If you're one of us, you'll be able to directly help in rescuing them," she said.

"I am in." His tone was definite, with little shade of doubt in it. Nascha had to smile.

"Good," she said, smiling a little. "I assume that your training will start tonight. And about Sakhyo and Nastas--that's what I was coming over to talk to you about." Nascha took a deep breath. "It may be months before we can go after them. The same skinwalkers that killed most of our family are guarding them, and most of us are wounded now."

He swayed back a little, as if she had hit him. "I see." There was a long pause then, as he struggled for words. "Will she survive that long?"

Nascha didn't want to be telling Ahiga this, but there could be no secrets, and he was going to find out about it in a few days' time anyway. "I hate to say this, but if she does, she's going to have to give in to the one who's claimed her," she said. "If she lives as one of them--the one who claimed her was protective of her, and I think she and Nastas will survive."

"I will become what I have to, even if it means never seeing her or my son again."

She offered him a small smile. "Well, I hope that you do get to see her again. If she survives, she'll need you."

Ahiga looked away from her. "I hope she will still want me," he muttered, his voice dropping low.

Nascha tried to imagine Sakhyo even liking any of the skinwalkers, much less coming to prefer them to the man she'd lived ever since they were children. It was an impossible image, but by the sickness in Ahiga's eyes, it was a real fear for him. "I don't think she'll ever forget that she was not taken by her own choice, and I know she loves you," she said, trying to be reassuring. Anything more she could say might make him worry more.

He nodded sharply, and looked back at her. "When do we start?"

"Tonight, I believe, with Cheveyo telling you his story. Each of us will tell you their story, one a night, until the eighth night comes and you tell us yours. There can't be any secrets between any of us."

"And if there are?" Ahiga asked.

"Then we can't speak to each other in our heads. If one of us has a secret they cannot tell the others for some reason, they must leave the group." She spread her hands, thinking about everything she knew about her spiritwalker brothers, the things that none who was not a spiritwalker would ever know. "That's never happened before, as far as Cheveyo's told me, but it's a warning handed down."

"I understand. I don't know about this speaking in our minds part. Is it strange?"

She raised a hand, rubbed one aching eye. "At first, it is. You get used to it, though. I'm still startled sometimes."

"I am sure it can be," he said. "Thank you for saving me, however you did. I am sorry you lost Tse."

The thornbush was abruptly back in her throat. She forced words past it. "I saw him die not once, but twice. It hurts a lot. But even if I went back to the moment, I would still make the same choice."

Someone had told him, probably Dichali, that Nascha had been the one to make the choice whether to save him, Tse, or Yas. "I am sorry you had to make that choice. Why did you save me?" he asked.

She looked down at the dusty ground. "I knew, if Sakhyo survived, she was going to need you. That outweighed how much I loved Tse."

"Is that what being a spiritwalker means?" Ahiga asked. He was looking at her steadily, now, watching her speak and weighing her words carefully.

Nascha gave him the best answer she could. "Part of it, yes. The tribe comes first, always. Or it should, at least. We are human, and sometimes we make mistakes."

"I am not sure I could make that choice." Ahiga was shaking his head, something like awe in his eyes.

"With luck, you'll never have to," she told him. "It's going to be a while before I'm completely at peace with that decision."

Ahiga nodded, then asked, "How is life, living with these people?"

She thought about the question, wondered how to explain. "Very strange, in parts," she said slowly. "But I have brothers to ask questions of and who care for me, and I them. It has good parts and bad. On the whole, outside of the fact that I had to watch Tse die and now Dichali is dead, I think I like this life."

"A lot of death in such a short time."

We do not grow old. "It weighs on me. Chogan and his group are fierce opponents, and dangerous, and I think that the deaths will keep on happening as long as his group still lives."

"Then that is what I will train for," he said, and he surprised her by smiling fiercely.

"Good." she said, returning his smile a little. "There's a lot to learn in a short period of time. If we can find four more, all five of you will train together, I think. You have more experience in fighting than I started out with, at least." She winced. "I still have a few of the bruises that Otaktay gave me."

"He looks impressive, even just laying there," Ahiga said.

She ached suddenly; she still felt some guilt about Otaktay's injury. "He's very good with a hatchet. Once he's up and around, he'll probably show you some things if you ask."

"I would like that," he said.

They settled down into a conversation about fighting techniques, Ahiga not exactly being subtle about asking her for information about her--their--spiritwalker brothers. After a bit, she wandered away, back towards Cheveyo.

As she reached Hania's wickiup and ducked inside, she felt a strange pressure inside of her head. Adoeete wanted to speak to them. His voice was cast to all of them. "I know we have had loss today. My father has informed me that another tribal elder died. They voted for me to take my place among them. I will be leaving the spiritwalker group."

Both Cheveyo and Nascha took sharp breaths, though for much different reasons, Nascha knew. "I know you can't refuse this summons, Adoeete, but I will miss you," she said.

"I will miss you too," Adoeete said. "So search for five more again. Sorry to you all, but this was my first calling." He paused, as if he were taking a breath. "I will have to delink with you. There is ceremony to perform, but I don't want to interfere with linking with your new members only to delink later. I will come to you."

Adoeete arrived at the wickiup a bit later, after Cheveyo had explained that the delinking ceremony was short and painless, though Adoeete's voice would take some time to fade from their minds. He stooped to enter the wickiup, hobbling inside.

Nascha looked up at him from where she sat next to Cheveyo. "Ready?" she asked quietly.

"I am," he said, and knelt with some difficulty. He took her hands in his, and Nascha could feel him pulling back and away from her mind. His voice was surrounding her, then retreating, until he sounded very far away and then faded into the distance to silence. Aloud, he said, "What was once one is now two. I will miss you, Nascha. I once told you that I didn't think women should be spiritwalkers. I think I was wrong." Adoeete smiled at her.

Adoeete admitting that he had been wrong was a rare and precious thing indeed. She smiled back at him, choosing not to tease him as she might have before. "From you, that is good to hear. I will miss you, Adoeete."

"Good luck and good hunting. But remember now that you report to me." He smiled again, and Nascha chuckled and let go of his hands, telling him that she would. Adoeete moved until he could grasp Cheveyo's hands, and repeated the delinking ceremony. The two of them were cordial but by no means warm with one another, and Adoeete hobbled out of the wickiup to go find the rest.

"It's strange, losing two people from the group on the same day," she said silently to Cheveyo. "At least Adoeete is still alive."

"It is, but the life of a spiritwalker is change," he said. "We adapt and go on. I fear a bit for the future, though."

She shifted to face him, drawing her knees up close to her. "We're taking on a lot of new people. Counting me, there will be seven new people."

Cheveyo smiled. "To the new ones, you will be old and looked upon in awe."

She rolled her eyes. "I haven't even been a spiritwalker for an entire season. I'm almost as green as they will be, and the ones who are men will all have more experience fighting than I do."

"All that is true, but they can't do what you can," he said. "I am not even sure that Chahta could do what you do."

Nascha straightened, surprised. "What do you mean? It was him I got the tracking from, wasn't it?"

"Yes, you got the basics from him. But he never got that much information from a track."

She felt strange about that, knowing that she was able to do things that her predecessor had not been able to. "Oh. I had no idea. I thought I was seeing what he would have seen."

"I am not sure he saw all that. I knew what could be done and what he could do, and your skills are beyond what he could tell me."

"Strange. Well, it's useful, anyway." She pulled her arms tighter, closed her eyes as a thought about crossing into Spiritworld and seeing Tse's face flashed across her mind. To distract herself, she asked, "Are you planning to start Ahiga on the stories tonight?"

"It is our way," he said, nodding. He will be the new one. Pezi and you will have to do most of the training for the new ones for the next week or so," he added.

Nascha hadn't thought of it before, but it made sense; with most of the spiritwalkers laid up, it would be up to her and Pezi to break the new ones in once they were found. "Should we wait until we have several new ones to do horse ceremony?"

"Yes. Take the camp when you can, and see who answers. It's been four seasons or more since we found Sahale."

Presumably, the gods would have in the meantime made new spiritwalkers ready. She hoped, at least. "I'll walk around the camp tonight and tomorrow, talk to everyone who's the right age."

"Thank you, Nascha," he said, closing his eyes. He looked tired, she thought.

She smiled at him, and reached over to put her hand on his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, for a knife slash," he replied. "Sad about Dichali. Glad and disturbed by Adoeete."

That he was glad that Adoeete was no longer a spiritwalker was no surprise, but-- "Disturbed why? Because you answer to him now?"

"Yes. He can make life even more difficult," he said, grimacing a bit.

"Do you really think he will? I know you two have never gotten along, but I don't think he bears you any real ill will."

"He and I have differing thoughts on what is a threat to the tribe and what isn't," he said. "He could tell us to stand down from finding Chogan as killing them is killing us and we are more important alive to the tribe."

Nascha narrowed her eyes. "But if he tells us that, we'll never be able to get Sakhyo back. I think that would lose us Ahiga. I might go with him, to be honest."

"It is a possibility, not a probability." He rubbed his forehead with one scarred hand, as if his head pained him. "Just why I was feeling disturbed by this."

"I can see why," she said. "All we can do is wait and see. There are other voices among the elders that might overrule him."

"Yes, one can hope for a voice of reason."

"I will," she said, and stretched a bit, sticking her feet out in front of her, feeling the familiar pull of tendons and muscle. She was harder now than she had been weeks ago, physically at least. Places that had once been soft were turning tough, and Nascha was caught between feeling proud of herself and wondering with some trepidation what she was becoming.

A warrior. "I should go ask people if they can hear me," she said. "Pezi? Have you introduced Aquene to your mother yet? If you haven't, it might be a good idea."

"I will," Pezi replied as she climbed to her feet. "My mother would like someone new to talk to."

"Ask her the question too," she said. "Just in case."

"I will." Pezi went to find Aquene, and Nascha stepped outside to go wander the camp and talk to people. It shouldn't be difficult for her to find people who'd like to talk to her, she reasoned.

But she had no more than gone outside the wickiup when Pezi broadcast to them all, "Aquene answered. There is our eighth."

Surprised, Nascha stopped in her tracks, sucking in a breath. "Well, at least I won't be the only woman. Is she willing to join us?"

"She is," Pezi said. "Her tribe was destroyed and she has a reason for going after Chogan herself. Strange part is, she already knew. She was hearing us before."

"That's odd. That doesn't happen often, does it?"

She could hear Pezi's dry laugh. "No, it's a lot strange. But so is two women spiritwalkers."

"True enough. Well, we have our eight. I'll see if I can find any of the next four," Nascha said. Pezi turned his attention away, presumably to talk to Aquene, and Nascha resumed her wandering.

She went from fire to fire, children coming out to climb on her, the older ones asking for stories. Everywhere she went, she was received as an honored guest, and she asked all who were old enough the question.

Only one answered her, a boy who she'd first thought was only about fifty seasons but who turned out to be just over sixty. He had come to sit with her and some of the older children, the boys and girls who were just on the edge of taking up their adult lives. He sat apart from the rest, but the lure of stories of daring and danger had proven too much of a temptation for him to stay away.

When Nascha realized that he was old enough, she asked him the question as he lingered after the story she had told was done. He had turned away from her, looking after the others, and at her question turned to look at her. "I can hear you."

"What's your name?" she asked, still not speaking aloud. She knew before he said it that it was Wahcommo, but she was still testing this choice of the gods. He's so young. I can't believe I asked him. "Well, Wahcommo, congratulations. You're one of us," she said to him.

He stiffened, looking at her suspiciously. "I am spiritwalker?"

Nascha inclined her head. "You are, if you are willing to join us."

There was still that suspicion on his face, and a dawning hope. "You aren't teasing, are you?"

She just looked at him for a moment. "Have you noticed yet that I haven't said a word aloud?"

"No, not really..." His mouth fell open as he went through much the same realization that she had when she had been first asked the question, that she was hearing things in her head that she could not hear aloud.

"Well, I haven't. You answered the question, so you are one of us," she told him.

"I accept, then." He straightened, and she found that he was a little taller than she'd originally thought. He was abruptly glowing with pride. "When do we start?"

Nascha frowned and held up her hand. She asked Cheveyo, "Can we tell our stories to more than one person at a time, or will we need to start the new ones on successive nights?"

"One a night," he said. "Wahcommo we will do when we have the other three, so it may be a bit. We can start him training, though."

"I'll tell him." To Wahcommo, she said, "We can start you training now, but your initiation will wait until we find the other three we're looking for."

"I will be here when you need me." Wahcommo looked a little bashful suddenly, and she reminded herself that he was only ten seasons younger than she was. "Thank you for the opportunity."

She almost flinched as she remembered Dichali, killed and skinned and left in the dirt. Opportunity to die for your tribe. "Thank you for becoming one of us," she said, and smiled.

She found no more new spiritwalkers that day, and that night she and Pezi went and built a platform to post Dichali's body to the sky. The next morning, she and Pezi went looking for the other Apache tribes in the area, to find the rest of the new spiritwalkers.

That day they did find another small tribe, but none answered the question. They got strange looks for the first few minutes, until Pezi explained with some impatience that Nascha was a spiritwalker. They stayed the night there and then set out the next morning, finding another tribe about sunset that day. Again there were the strange looks, but unlike the day before, this time someone answered.

It was a man of about a hundred and sixty seasons, compactly built, with eyes that seemed to stay on the horizon, even when he was looking directly at something. "What's your name?" Nascha asked him.

"Delsin," he said.

She tilted her head. "I asked and you answered, so you are one of us, if you're willing."

The man blinked, and for the first time she thought she saw some flicker of interest in her presence. "Am I not a bit old to be a spiritwalker?"

Nascha shrugged. "Well, as far as I know, we take all who answer the question. So the answer is no, you're not too old."

"It is an honor to be spiritwalker," he said, though his voice was curiously flat. "I will join you."

"Oh, good," she said, breathing out. "Welcome, Delsin."

There were none else in the camp who answered them, and they were walking to the edge of the camp, preparing to take Delsin back to theirs, when a strange shape caught the corner of Nascha's eye. She turned, her eyes parsing crumpled shape and deciding, on the balance, that it was not a coincidental arrangement of rocks.

Pushed by an impulse she didn't understand the origins of, she silently departed from Pezi's side and walked toward the shape. It was a man, she saw. Unmoving except for breathing, he was tied with his arms behind him to a stake driven deep into the ground, the golden light of sunset unsparing of chapped and torn skin, illuminating the circle tattoos on his shoulders.

Arapaho.

She almost turned away then, but there was that urge she did not understand, and she turned back. "What's the story on this one?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at Delsin.

The older man shrugged. "Arapaho. Found him in the desert. Claims he ran away from a bunch of skinwalkers that were chasing him, because he knew their secret."

Nascha returned her gaze to the man's face. He was awake now, she saw. He was watching her warily. She looked back at Delsin. "Strange. That might be true."

"Might be, might not be. He is Arapaho. We left him to die."

She considered trying to simply walk away and leave this one to die. "Do you speak Arapaho?"

Delsin was giving her a strange look. "A little?" he hazarded.

Nascha glanced at Pezi, and he inclined his head. "I do," he said.

"Could you find out if he really is running from Chogan?" she asked.

Pezi stepped up beside Nascha and directed a long stream of syllables towards the captive. The man looked surprised and answered back, four or five short words. She heard Chogan among them. "Yes, he says," Pezi said.

"I sort of hate to leave him here to die, if he might be able to give us information about Chogan," she said.

Her fellow spiritwalker gave her a long look. "Do we ask him?"

He was not one of the skinwalkers; he could not be. "Just ask him how he got here, and how he found out about the skinwalkers."

Again, Pezi directed words towards the man, and this time the captive answered at some length, sitting up as best he could. "He says he walked here," Pezi reported. "He says Skah raped his wife and when she came back beaten, he went after Skah. Skah and he fought. He wounded Skah and the fight got broken up. Skah is spiritwalker, so above such things as hurting women. They turned him out. He found out about them being skinwalkers as he stayed to watch and wait to kill Skah but saw him turn to a fox and leave. He tried to track him and failed to. He has wandered the desert looking for him, but hasn't found him. He ran into this tribe and expects to die here."

The urge was back, so strong it left Nascha almost breathless. "Do you believe him?" she asked Pezi.

He shrugged. "If he was anything other than Arapaho, yes."

"Maybe," she said, and turned back to the captive. His head had dropped down, and he was staring at the ground. Cheveyo is not going to be happy with me, but-- She asked the captive silently, "Can you hear me?"

He didn't look up. "I can," he said, also silently. Nascha caught her breath, and the urge she had been feeling disappeared entirely.

Nascha glanced at Pezi. "He's one of us."

"I heard. Cut him loose."

She nodded and drew her knife, stepping forward the cut through the man's bonds. "What's your name?" she asked as she sawed.

"Okomi," he said, raising his head. He seemed to understand her when she spoke to him silently.

"Do you know our names?"

"Nascha, Pezi, Delsin," he answered.

She finished with the ropes and stepped back as Okomi pulled the ropes from his wrists and rubbed the red weals that they had left behind. "You're one of us," she told him. "If you're willing."

Okomi just shrugged. "Better than dying."

"True, that," she said. She smiled briefly. "I thought the same. Pezi, are you up for two trips back tonight?"

"I am. Cheveyo is not going to like this," he warned her.

"I'll talk to him," she said. She took a quick breath and directed her next thought to Cheveyo. "We found two. One was an Arapaho prisoner. He has as much reason to hate Chogan and his group as we do."

There was a long pause. "You know," he replied thoughtfully, "maybe I should be doing this." She could almost hear the smile in his voice, and she knew she was forgiven.

She wrinkled her nose. "Well you would be, if you hadn't taken a knife across the chest. And you did say ask everyone."

"I know," he said, and he chuckled. "Do me a favor? Don't ask Chogan if you see him?"

Nascha snorted. "At this point, I'll be way too busy running away to ask." She smiled, then paused and began to think of the practicalities. "Is there going to be a problem when we bring him back?"

"Probably. Find other clothing and tie his hair differently. Minimize the shock until he speaks out loud."

"We will," she said. "Female spiritwalkers, and now an Arapaho one. The gods do love a joke."

"I just hate being the butt of it, Cheveyo said. "But there is a reason."

Even though he could not see her, she smiled. "Who better to help us hunt down Chogan?"

"He does know them and their ways. He could be useful." Cheveyo sounded thoughtful. "And he wants revenge, so if he is not a spy we are good. It will come out in the training and the secret sharing."

"That was what I was thinking," she said. If he were a spy, as remote as that likelihood was, he would have to confess it during his story, or be unable to talk to the rest of them.

"Come on back, and then find me one more. Good job, Nascha."

She was warmed by the praise, and turned to Pezi. "We're good. Take Delsin back, I'll tie Okomi's hair like an Apache's. I have a comb. Bring back a better shirt for him, something that will cover the tattoos."

Pezi nodded, took Delsin's arm, and vanished. "Sit down," she told Okomi.

He did so, moving warily. She started unraveling his multiple braids, pulling the comb through it. She'd just bind it at the nape for the moment. Okomi said, in halting Apache, "You--not afraid."

"No," she said. She moved her body into spiritworld, took half a shuffling step, reappeared in front of him, facing him. "I am not afraid. You are one of us."

Okomi shook his head; whatever his thoughts were, they could not be expressed with his apparently limited grasp of Apache, and she spoke no Arapaho. Nascha stepped around behind him and finished tying his hair, and Pezi reappeared.

They left Okomi in Cheveyo's care, and headed out once more in the morning. The next day was spent search for a tribe that had moved some time ago, their trail old enough to have gone cold even to Nascha. They spent the night in a cold camp, and resumed searching again at sunrise the next day.

Nascha found Pezi restful company; he did not chatter, and both of them dwelled in their thoughts and focused on their work. Occasionally, they pointed out things to each other--a black jackrabbit, an interesting spire of stone. By noon, they had found the small camp they had been looking for, and soon after that had found their final spiritwalker. His name was Gosheven, and he had more muscles in his legs than Nascha thought was even possible.

They took him back after he agreed to become one of them, more eagerly than any of the rest had so far. There were still three days left before it was Nascha's turn to tell her story two nights in a row, and Pezi went out to find horses while Nascha performed the watches that would normally be done by all the spiritwalkers taking turns.

The others were healing. Sahale was beginning to almost walk normally again, and Cheveyo was up and around, though moving slowly. Otaktay was still the worst off, but even he was getting better, able to stand unassisted for a few minutes now. He was able to perform his ritual with Ahiga and Aquene, thankfully.

Pezi found horses the day that it was Nascha's turn to tell her story to Ahiga, but it would take him a few days to get them into a proper canyon. They decided to let him do that, and take all six of the new spiritwalkers into the herd at once.

That night, Nascha sat down with Ahiga, and told her story. She could feel him flinching as she saw her and Sakhyo's captivity and capture through her eyes, but she could not spare him it. She showed him the few battles she had fought and the men she had killed, and the persistent ache of missing Tse, the cold place in her blankets where he should be.

After, she asked, "Do you have any questions?"

He was still holding her hands, almost clinging to them. "Do you dream about what could have been with Tse?"

She nodded. "I do, sometimes. I think about what our children would have been like. I miss him, more than I usually tell people."

"Do you have a different dream now?" he asked.

Nascha gave him a slight smile, knowing what he was asking. "I'm still thinking mostly about surviving to find and bring back Sakhyo and Nastas. Though I'm interested in what might happen after that, now. I wasn't before. And, yes, I know Cheveyo likes me, but right now he's a friend and a brother with possibilities for more some day."

"I had thought so. His attraction to you is strong. During his night, that came through very clearly." Ahiga sounded like he wasn't entirely sure what to think about this.

"I've noticed, yes," she said with a smile. "I can't think of him in that way quite yet. And even then, there are things I have to consider."

"Such as?"

"Children, mostly. Some of the others have families, but being a woman, it's not quite as easy for me to do that. And I have to consider whether it's fair to have children when it's very likely that I'll die while they're still young." And if I do not die, their father very well might, if it's Cheveyo. We do not grow old.

Ahiga looked thoughtful. "I hadn't really thought of that. Nastas may end up fatherless, even if we do get him back."

Nascha let go of his hands. "It's always a possibility. You have to believe that what we're doing is worth that, to be spiritwalkers."

"For now, I have to. I see no other choice for getting them back."

"We'll see what happens," she told him, and let go of his hands. "You can leave, if you have to. Adoeete did. But it's never something that's done lightly."

"I know." There was a troubled look in his eyes, but he smiled anyway. "Thank you for the chance to get them back."

"You're welcome. And thank you for becoming one of us." She got up then and walked away from the fire, towards the outer edges of the camp. She had some work to do before she could claim her blankets.

The next night was Aquene's turn to listen to Nascha's story, and Ahiga's turn to tell his. There was little in there that Nascha did not know, but she listened avidly anyway, her hand on Ahiga's leg, the rest of the spiritwalkers surrounding him.

Ahiga's childhood had been mostly uneventful; his family had always been close to Nascha's, and he and Sakhyo had been childhood sweethearts. He had never doubted that he would grow up to marry her, and she felt the same about him. His father had been killed in a hunting accident when Ahiga had been fifty-two seasons old, and after that Ahiga had taken his father's place as the hunter for his family. She saw herself through his eyes, and flinched a little; he was not sparing with the fact that because she had been her parents' only child, she had been a bit spoiled and selfish.

She saw through his eyes what had happened when he and Yas had returned to find their village destroyed, the search for bodies in the ashes, the hope and the fear when they found neither Sakhyo nor Nascha's bodies. She saw Tse, with a terrible wound in his back, and the amazement that he had survived as long as he had.

Ahiga's story ended with the changes he had seen in Nascha. Becoming spiritwalker had been good for her, he thought, and he was startled by how well she was handling losing Tse. He had expected her to be nearly nonfunctional with grief, but he could see that she had thrown herself into becoming spiritwalker, and time and circumstances had not allowed her to fall into despair. His fears were of losing Sakhyo for good, of going to the Arapaho tribe to find her dead, or having him be gone for so long that she decided that she liked her new life. He was also afraid of the forced marriage, and what being repeatedly raped might do to her mind.

There were a few questions, and then the cuts were made and they exchanged blood, making Ahiga one of them. The next night, Ahiga told his story to Aquene, and then the night after was Aquene's story.