Spiritwalkers: Hunter, Part Two

[aithne]

Nascha found herself near Cheveyo quite a bit during the dances, and near Ahiga when she wasn't close to Cheveyo. The evening meal was served, and Cheveyo came to sit next to her while they ate. The rest of the spiritwalkers drifted over to sit nearby in loose groups, Otaktay and Zotum giving each other a hard time as usual.

Their bowls were almost empty when Cheveyo set his aside and stretched. "I am hot, sweaty and still a bit bloody from that hunt," he said to her. "I am going to go wash off and go to bed. Need a bath as well?"

She looked down at herself and wrinkled her nose. "Probably a good idea."

"I know a spot. Come with me? I won't peek, I promise, but someone should be looking out for the other while we bathe." He smiled, and Nascha smiled back, charmed. She trusted him, trusted that he might have ulterior motives for getting her off by herself, but if she didn't make the first move he really would not press the issue.

And those ulterior motives were ones that Nascha was finding herself not entirely unopposed to. "Sounds good, lead on," she said, and got up.

He stepped into spiritworld and she followed. He led her to the place nearby where the barrier was thin, and then a little farther. They stopped and came out of spiritworld at a place where a cold spring gushed out of the cliffside and gathered in a small pond. The pond trickled away into reeds at the edge. "After you?" Cheveyo said, and turned around to watch the foot-beaten path that led to this place.

Nascha stripped and got into the water, unbraiding her hair and ducking her head under the water. It was good to get clean, to wash the dust and the blood off. The pond was about waist-deep and more than large enough for two people to share, and Nascha thought briefly that she wouldn't mind if Cheveyo got in with her. She dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred.

Aquene's voice came into her mind. "I heard that. What's stopping you?"

Nascha jumped; she hadn't known Aquene had been paying attention to her. She ducked her head under the water again. "I know where that sort of thing leads, and I can't do what I need to do if I get pregnant."

"You are living with Hania. He can stop a pregnancy from starting." Aquene's voice held a bit of amusement mixed with impatience.

She blinked; she had known that shamans could encourage pregnancy, but she had never known an adult woman who wanted to stop pregnancies from happening. Mostly, if you were worried about that, it meant you were doing something you shouldn't be. "He can? I never thought to ask him."

"I am sure he can. Our shaman could." There was more amusement in her voice now. "Though that might be an awkward conversation. I want to sleep with your grandson, can I have herbs to stop pregnancy."

Nascha ducked her head under the water again, shaking her head to let her hair float free behind her. "Might be, but we live with him. I'm pretty sure he's figured out that Cheveyo likes me, and I'm starting to like him back."

"It's evident on both of your bodies, if not in your minds yet," Aquene said, a bit slyly.

She remembered lying awake, listening to the others in the wickiup breathe, thinking about the possibility of asking Cheveyo if she could share his blankets. "Well, I'll think about it," she said.

"You think too much sometimes. But it's your choice. Have fun."

Nascha laughed silently and stood, wringing out her hair. She climbed out of the water and stood at the edge of the pond, dripping. Her clothes were in a pile on a nearby rock, and she thought about simply going over and pulling them on. But--

She turned away from her clothes, towards Cheveyo, who was standing with his back to her, looking down the path. "I'm done, Cheveyo," she said.

He turned, and his eyes widened a bit. He had seen her naked before; they shared a wickiup, it was unavoidable. This was different, and the air between them felt abruptly alive, like the sky during a storm. He didn't move from the spot. "You may have forgotten your clothes. But I can see that you missed a spot."

Nascha smiled, cocking her head slightly. "There's room for two, if you'd like to help with that." He'd unbraided his hair, she saw, and let it fall loose. Her fingers curled with the sudden urge to reach out to him.

There was an odd look in his eyes, almost of recognition, as if he had never quite looked at her properly before. "Any time," he said, and swiftly shucked his clothing. He stepped over to her and pulled her into an embrace, lowering his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply. "It was right there," he said softly, smiling.

"I think you maybe didn't get it all," she said, and pulled his head down again so she could kiss him. Her wet skin was slippery against his body, and she felt heat spreading through her. "Want help washing?" she asked, once she had thoroughly kissed him and could speak again.

"Yes," was his simple answer, and he pulled her into the water.

There was at least a token attempt made at washing, as Nascha found it a good excuse to run her hands over him, acquaint her hands with how he felt under them. Cheveyo was letting her take the lead for the moment, and waited until she had gotten over the remainder of her shyness at being in the water with him to return her caresses.

Their movement caused the water to ripple out and away from them, splashing against the shore. Nascha hissed a breath inward as Cheveyo's hand found one of her nipples, and closed her eyes. "I don't want to get pregnant," she said softly. "I need to talk to your grandfather. I was not, ah, expecting..."

Cheveyo chuckled, stilling his hand for a moment. "I know." Then he kissed her and began to move his hands again. She abandoned herself to pleasure, to the marvelous feelings that were rising in her at his touch, the sense of urgency that was building in the two of them.

Eventually, she found herself being pulled onto Cheveyo's lap, having found a smooth rock underwater to brace themselves against, his fingers in the place where heat was radiating out from to fill her whole body. As naked as their bodies were, so were their minds, and Nascha could barely comprehend the things she was feeling in him. But he would speed up and slow down when she desired it, before the thought even occurred to her to voice a request. And as she touched him, she realized that she was following the direction of desires he was not voicing aloud.

She would have been afraid, but there was no room for fear. There was only the water and the feelings flooding her, the desire and the pleasure and longing intertwined as their limbs. Sometime later, when the moon had set and the two of them were starting to feel the chill of the water and the bite of the desert night air, they returned to the camp. It was only then that Nascha somewhat belatedly remembered the ten other people who had been direct witnesses to what she and Cheveyo had been doing. Most of the other spiritwalkers were still with their families around the communal fire. And almost to a person, they smirked at the two of them as they came into view, holding hands.

Aquene's smile was not quite a smirk, but it was close. She was sitting with Pezi and his mother, Ahiga on her other side. Silently, Aquene said, "It was good for me. It was probably better in person."

Nascha hadn't been blushing before, but she did now. At the same time, she grinned at her spiritwalker sister. "It was. Do you have your eye on someone, yourself?"

"In time, maybe," she said, her voice a bit sly. "You took the good one."

Nascha rolled her eyes, but didn't offer a list of the sterling qualities of those among their brothers who were unmarried. Nascha figured that Aquene could figure out which one she liked for herself. "Well, you can always choose someone not a spiritwalker. There are any number of young men who probably wouldn't mind around."

"True," Aquene said, "but after what you experienced, I don't think I would want anything else. He wasn't just inside you. He was with you in your mind. That has to be intense."

They were past the fire now, making their way towards the wickiup. Nascha considered the shaky feeling in her knees and chest. "It was, yes. Overwhelming, really."

"Ya, I will take a longer look over my choices." There was still a warmth in Aquene's voice, a lingering trace of a heat that Nascha had never heard before in it. She rather thought that Aquene had not even attempted to shield her and Cheveyo out. "Good sleep, Nascha."

"You, as well," she told her, and followed Cheveyo into the wickiup.

There were an awkward few minutes inside, as neither of them seemed to know what to do with their eyes or hands now that this had happened, and they were back on familiar ground. They were the first back; Hania and Ahiga were still out by the fire. Nascha sat down on her mat to braid her damp hair, and Cheveyo crawled under his blankets. When she was done and her braid was secured, she looked up and saw that Cheveyo had lifted his blanket, beckoning with an inquiring look.

She didn't hesitate a moment once the invitation was offered. She stripped quickly and joined him under the blanket, kissing him and nestling down with him. There was such a sense of safety, of an emptiness inside of her eased at least for the moment, that she wondered why she hadn't done this before. He had been waiting for her to say something, to call him closer.

Then she flinched as a stab of guilt came from the place where her memories of Tse resided, promises they had whispered to each other while they were courting: only you, for this life. There can be no others. The promises of children to one another, as brittle as obsidian.

"You all right?" Cheveyo asked. His arm tightened around her briefly.

There could be no lies between them. "Feeling a little guilty," she said. "I know there's no real reason for me to. I don't have regrets, but..."

"It feels a little like betrayal," he said. "I know. My family died long enough ago that I don't feel it any more, but I know what that feels like. Simply continuing to breathe, afterwards, felt like the same kind of betrayal."

Nascha sighed and shifted in his arms. "I don't want to stop this, but...Tse hasn't been dead an entire season yet. I loved him..." She trailed off, wondered where she had been going with that.

"And you still haven't stopped looking for him in back of every hill," Cheveyo said. "I know."

"I'm happy about this," she said. "About you. I'm just going to have to get through losing Tse. Be patient with me?"

Cheveyo chuckled a little and kissed her hair. "Always," he said, the simple word carrying a sense of determination with roots as deep as mountains. There didn't seem to need to be any more words between them, and Nascha fell into a light sleep soon afterwards. She heard Hania and Ahiga come in later, and afterwards finally fell into a deeper sleep.

The next morning, she and Cheveyo rose early, before everyone else, and went to silently check on the horses and walk a quick patrol around the camp. Once they came back, Cheveyo lent a hand with the morning meal and Nascha went back to the wickiup. She saw Ahiga step into spiritworld, and pulled the flap of the wickiup aside.

"Grandfather?" she asked, blinking into the dim as her eyes adjusted.

"I wondered when you'd come find me," Hania said. His hands were full of small, round stones that he seemed to be sorting through. "And I'm guessing I know what you want."

"I can't do what I need to do if I get pregnant," she said with a smile. "My plan was to use the usual way of avoiding pregnancy, but it seems a long road."

Hania chuckled. "Well, good. Glad you finally decided to do something about the fact that you two can't keep your eyes off one another." He put the stones down and reached behind him. "Put three pinches of this mixture in some water, let it soak for a bit, and drink it all when it's well soaked." He tossed a leather bag at her. "This one--" he held up a smaller bag-- "is for using between now and your next moon." He tossed it at her. "Hot water on this one, and it'll probably make you feel a little sick to your stomach, and bleed a little. That's normal. And there's this as well." He held out a clay pot, and she reached over to take it from him.

She worked the lid off and leaned down to take a sniff. It smelled like-- "Aloe?"

The shaman grinned. "Makes things slippery when you run a bit dry. Useful to have around. Me and Cheveyo's grandmother, Sunki, we used it a lot. There are also other things you can you it for, of course."

Nascha raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

Hania was only too glad to elaborate. After Nascha got over having a man talk to her about this sort of thing--she was used to frank discussion of sex coming from the women of her family, not usually the men--she learned a number of things that her mother and aunt had never talked about. Hania and Sunki had been quite inventive when Sunki had been alive, starting from sneaking off together before they had gotten married and continuing until she had died in a raid, twenty seasons before the one that had taken the lives of Cheveyo's parents and wife and child.

The conversation drifted a bit, towards Cheveyo and what was happening in the tribe at the moment. Nascha was shaking her head as she said, "I'm just worried about how Adoeete's new responsibilities are sitting with him."

He snorted. "Adoeete will cause you trouble, I am sure of that. He has wanted to lead something since he was child. But sometimes the ones that want to lead are the least qualified."

"He's very focused on what he thinks is best for the tribe," she said. "And when he gets an idea in his head, he never wants to let go of it."

"Yes, so he will send his spiritwalkers to protect the tribe and lead with a very short leash," Hania said. There was just the beginnings of a frown at the corners of his eyes. "He will find that to be a spiritwalker requires a longer view than just down the end of his nose."

Nascha wrinkled her nose. Idly, she drew one hand around the belly of the pot of aloe she had on her lap, feeling the roughness of the designs on it. "You'd think he'd have learned that, being one of us for so long," she said, a touch sourly.

"He did not lead, he just second-guessed Cheveyo."

She was silent for a few moments, looking down at her hands. "I'm worried that he's going to order us not to go after my cousin. I'd have to decide between obeying orders and my family."

Hania's voice was gentle. "You will have to make that choice, I am sure. But you can be assured that Cheveyo will go with you."

She looked up at him, her hands stilled. "That almost makes the decision harder in some ways. Easier in others. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe Adoeete will be reasonable, or I'll be able to talk him into being so."

"You should have been named optimistic owl," Hania said, chuckling once more.

Nascha made a face. "I try not to borrow too much trouble before it gets here. I have enough already." She smiled at Hania.

"You do at that, daughter. Can I call you daughter?" he asked.

"Well, since I'm calling you Grandfather, it's only fair," she replied.

"Good," he said, satisfied. "Now go take your herbs and put that gel to work."

Nascha grinned and unfolded herself, standing up and stretching. "Yes, sir!" she said, and went to find some water and a cup.

A bit later, she found Cheveyo near the edge of the camp, by the horses. He was watching the horses graze, many of them standing head to tail with another horse. The flies were thick, though not nearly as thick as they had been some days ago, when it had started getting cold at night.

He turned when he heard her footstep behind her, and though he brightened to see her, his eyes were worried. "What's wrong?" she asked, putting aside the reason she'd come to find him for the moment.

Cheveyo shook his head. "Visions from the spiritworld."

"What did you see?"

"Cheyenne, Sioux, Ute dead. Killed by Dichali and Chahta."

Nascha took a sharp breath at the names of those who had gone before, reminded of the silence that Dichali had left behind that she was almost used to now. "So they'll blame the apache for the deaths. We knew Chogan had something planned, and that makes sense."

"I see a trap also, but one we should spring carefully," he said.

She followed the thought, and saw where it was leading. "You think they're trying to draw an attack?"

He inclined his head. "I do. They are killing tribes, blaming us, and then we will be under attack."

"They want us to commit to an attack that they've already prepared for, maybe," she said, thinking about what she knew of Chogan.

"Or they are waiting for us to come to look at these attacks to see if we will show."

"Also possible. We have a good idea where the Arapaho are at the moment. We could go look at them, instead of those attacks," she suggested.

"To see if Chogan is there?"

She raised her hand, tipping it to the side. "Yes. We might be able to tell which of the skinwalkers are out doing this, and find and stop them. If they want us to go look at the attacks, then we need to do something they don't expect."

"It's a good plan. Let's go early tomorrow," he said.

"Pezi and Gosheven with us?" she suggested, thinking about what they were likely to encounter.

Cheveyo nodded. "Good choices." He gave her a smile that filled her with a strange sort of pride. He gave her thoughts full measure, as much as he gave the spiritwalkers who had been with him many more seasons than she had. She had watched him; he was not quite testing any of the new ones like he had her.

"Since we're not planning on attacking, I think the four of us will do," she said.

"Same here. It's a good scouting mission." He gave her a smile, and reached out to take her hand. "Are you busy this afternoon?"

Nascha grinned. "Not unless Otaktay or Zotum comes looking for me. That was why I was coming looking for you, actually."

"Hopefully for the same reason I had in mind for you." His voice was warm, and his fingers had tightened on her hand.

"I think so," she said, and pulled him so their bodies touched along their length. She raised her mouth and he brought his down, and she kissed him, trying to express the feelings she had put aside for a moment and that now were rising in her, unstoppable. "Your grandfather gave me some things that I'd like to try out."

"Good," he said, and kissed her again. They ended up walking a short distance to a hollow near the corral that was shaded by a couple of small, twisted trees. For some reason, nerves were knotting Nascha's belly, and she experienced a resurgence of the shyness she'd felt last night. The other feelings soon blotted it out, and by the time they were both bare under the sun she was quite thoroughly distracted.

It was different this time, and it wasn't just the warmth of the sun and the insects that buzzed by their heads. Last night had been a passion quick as lightning. Today, the heat between them built more slowly, and in the strange place where their minds slid in and out of each other's, thoughts twining around each other, Nascha was aware of things she had not been last night. They were wordless things about Cheveyo and about herself, desires that ran nameless under their skins, encompassing the physical and so much more.

They had hours to spend here and nothing urgent waiting for them anywhere else; a luxury in the lives of spiritwalkers, one that they intended to make the most of. They teased each other into a frenzy, matching fire for fire, and when Nascha wordlessly demanded that Cheveyo join with her he didn't hesitate, only acquiesced as rhythms older than themselves pressed them together, their heartbeats pounding like the drums of the dance.

They rhythm accelerated, quickly, so quickly, and Nascha wrapped herself around Cheveyo and clung as release came over her abruptly, almost unexpectedly, and his followed directly after. They shuddered together and were still, Cheveyo's breath harsh in her ear, both of them wringing wet with sweat. Nascha felt almost stunned, pleasure leaving her mind temporarily empty. She took a long breath inward, feeling Cheveyo's weight pressing down on her.

They rolled over then, still wordless, Nascha curling up with Cheveyo and closing her eyes, savoring the aftermath and recovery. "Your grandfather tells the most interesting stories," she said, finally. "I learned all kinds of things."

Cheveyo chuckled. "Yes, he does," he said. He raised a hand to stroke her hair, almost reverently. They didn't speak for a while after that, and once she felt some energy returning Nascha wriggled around in his arms to kiss him. So most of the afternoon passed, and they returned about the time the evening meal was being prepared. Nascha was sore in ways she hadn't been since she was first married, but it was an ache that had a kind of sweetness to it, a reminder of what she had spent much of the day doing. Cheveyo looked tired but happy, and cheerfully engaged in a verbal joust with his grandfather when Hania asked him questions about where they'd spent the afternoon.

Ahiga came to sit next to her, after the meal. "Hey, little sister," he said, slinging and arm around her and squeezing. "Have a good time today?"

She learned into him, savoring his familiar presence. "You know I did, big brother," she said, her voice teasing. "So. Do you approve?"

Ahiga let her go and turned to face her, looking serious. "Would it make a difference, if I did?"

She was taken aback a bit by the tone of his voice, drawing in a half-breath. "No," she said. "It would make things more difficult, but...I chose this. I don't think I could turn away now, not for you, not for anyone." Her heart was heavy in her chest, and she tried to imagine what Ahiga's disapproval might mean. It would be so hard to make everyone happy, especially if she had to hide her feelings for Cheveyo from Ahiga.

But Ahiga grinned. "Then I approve," he told her. "You should see your face, Nascha. You have something good with Cheveyo, and you have my blessing."

Nascha hugged her brother, her tongue too thick to speak. That night, curled under the blanket with Cheveyo's warmth next to her, she gave thanks to the gods. She might have more trouble in her life than she'd ever anticipated, but for the moment the rewards were more than worth it.

In the cold predawn the next morning, she, Cheveyo, Gosheven, and Pezi met in the center of the camp, all of them shivering a bit. They knew where the Arapaho had been going, the Sioux encampment that Nascha had found burned a lifetime ago, before Ahiga and Aquene had joined them. It was an hour's walk in spiritworld towards the landmarks that Nascha remembered.

The Arapaho camp was in the lee of a low rise, nearly on top of the former Sioux camp, and they avoided the sentinels that watched from the rise and circled around the camp. It was as large as ever, with what seemed like hundreds of wickiups. Nascha concentrated and picked out Chogan and Chuslum's wickiups, distinctive designs painted on the hide walls.

It was sunrise, and as they approached the camp they could see people up and around, hauling water, starting the morning meal. Nascha, after a few minutes, spotted Sakhyo, who came out to the fire in front of Chuslum's wickiup and blew the embers into sullen life, feeding it buffalo chips. She went into the wickiup and returned with Nastas in a cradle, and a sack of what turned out to be corn.

Nascha watched her cousin grind corn into flour, her heart caught in her throat. She moved like her shoulders hurt, her head bowed low. Chuslum stepped out of the wickiup and spoke briefly to Sakhyo, not nodded and hung her head even lower. Then he sat down across the fire from her, bringing out arrowheads and feathers, working on his weapons with familiar motions. His big hands worked the arrows with surprising deftness.

If she saw one skinwalker, then there had to be three more. As they watched, Cheveyo pointed out Halian, and Pezi spotted Tokala. "I think that's smoke coming from the vent in Chogan's wickiup," Pezi added, squinting at the camp.

"He must be still too wounded to go much of anywhere quickly," Cheveyo said. "Nascha, do you remember what was inside Chogan's tent. Were there a lot of things to burn?"

"The skins. Otherwise, not really, though all the mess might burn well. Why?" She was looking hard at said tent, her mouth hard. Fear was metallic at the back of her throat. Her body remembered the terror of the days she'd spent in that camp, though her mind had mostly made peace with it.

"Less skins, less disguises," Cheveyo said, his eyebrow raised.

Nascha nodded. "He might even think it was an accident."

"He might at that. in the distraction, we can see if Chuslum moves away from Sakhyo."

Her breath caught. She felt such longing, to talk to her cousin, let her know that she was alive and was going to come for her. There was a chance her, but they were going to have to be very, very careful. "We could talk to her. Let her know I'm alive."

Cheveyo smiled slightly. "And that you haven't forgotten her."

"I hope she doesn't think I haven't," she said, glancing at Sakhyo, still grinding corn.

"Best to get a chance to talk to her," he said. "Pezi, pop in and out of Chogan's tent. Do not do anything but look. If there is nobody in there, signal. Gosheven you go to him, start the wickiup on fire. Nascha, you and I get to wait to see what happens. and we will move if Chuslum moves."

It was a plan, and a good one. Nascha nodded, and Pezi took off. He stepped through the wickiup wall and stayed inside, and then signaled. Gosheven went in, and the smoke from inside the wickiup began to get thicker and darker. Pezi and Gosheven returned, none the worse for wear, and they all settled in to wait.

It didn't take long for the first shouts to go up, and the tent began to flame soon after. A crowd began to gather, people running with buckets for a nearby spring to dump onto the fire.

Nascha tensed as Chuslum rose. The big men set aside the arrow he was working on, ands bent to free Nastas from his cradle, carrying the child in his arms and walking towards the fire. Sakhyo got up and followed, but she was lagging behind. "Go blend into the crowd. I will be right behind you," Cheveyo said.

Nascha nodded to Cheveyo, and then got up and began walking in spiritworld into the camp. She could feel Cheveyo's presence behind her like a wind. She dropped out of spiritworld when nobody was watching, and tried to walk like one of the people here. She caught up with Sakhyo quickly, falling in right at her shoulder. "Sakhyo, don't turn around. It's me."

Sakhyo's step faltered and slowed, but she did not look around. "Nascha?"

"Yes. I wanted to let you know that I'm still alive, I still remember you, and I'm still trying to get you out," she said in a rush. She had no idea how much time she had, but it was not much.

Her cousin's head bowed. "Please hurry. Life is not good."

"We're working as quickly as we can. The skinwalkers that have you are vicious foes."

"I know," she said, making a noise that was half laugh, half sob. "They are unpleasant. Chogan is by far the worst."

She took a shallow breath. "I'm sure he is. And he appears to be claiming that I'm his betrothed. Ahiga lives, and he loves you and worries for you."

"Thank you for that." Her voice faltered, broke. "I wish I was with him."

"I'll tell him. We'll get you out, Sakhyo." There was a vicious anger rising in her, that anyone dared to do this to her beloved cousin. She swallowed it down.

Sakhyo's voice had died almost to a whisper, and her shoulders were rounded. She had almost stopped walking. "Please tell Ahiga I am sorry. I had to give into them. All of them. I think I am with child again."

The anger in Nascha flared and died, replaced by a tearing sensation as if her heart was breaking open. No. Oh, no. Oh, Sakhyo. She swallowed again, and this time her throat was as raw and dry as if she'd been crying. "He knew you might, and he loves you still. We'll deal with what we need to when we get you."

"If you can't by spring..." She saw the muscles in Sakhyo's jaw working. "Come back for me. I would rather have an arrow than this life."

"I know, and I will. I need to go before someone notices me talking to you. I love you, Sakhyo. Kiss Nastas for me."

"I love you. I will," her cousin said. The tearing sensation still with her, Nascha stepped into spiritworld, leaving her cousin behind. She turned back towards Gosheven and Pezi, and Cheveyo fell in beside her. He made as if to take her hand and then tensed. Nascha saw what he'd seen only a heartbeat later.

Movement, where none should be, in spiritworld and moving with purpose. Four of them, it looked like. "We should go," Nascha said.

"Step out, I will be right behind you." She nodded and pushed out of spiritworld, her shoes hitting dirt almost toe to toe with Gosheven, who looked surprised.

"We should probably leave. At least we know where the other four are for the moment," she said.

Cheveyo shook his head. "Wait. There were four there, I only saw three step out."

She shook her head. "We may have a fight on our hands, if the one who stayed finds us."

"Or we go after him," Cheveyo suggested.

She shook her head sharply. "Would make it very clear that we've been here, but they may figure that out on their own."

"They probably will. But you might be right. All of you leave east, and go quickly. Turn south and then west. Meet back at camp. Try to keep sight of one another." They all nodded and stepped into spiritworld, moving quickly and with purpose.

They ran east and then turned south, stringing out a bit as they had a tendency to do in here. Nascha felt rather than heard Pezi's gasp. "Lost Gosheven," he said, a world of urgency in his voice.

Gosheven's presence was still in her mind, but he was not responding. "Pezi, step out where you lost him. Nascha, track him," Cheveyo said.

The track was clear enough. Gosheven had had one attacker, who had dragged his body off with him. "Someone knocked him out." She blinked, and the track became clear. "It's Ituha, one of the skinwalkers. I'll follow."

Gosheven was no more than a few spiritworld steps away. He was on the ground, rousing from unconsciousness, surrounded by skinwalkers. All eight of them.

Nascha's heart thudded in her chest. Gosheven was spread-eagle on the ground, a skinwalker foot on each wrist and ankle. Chogan was standing by Gosheven's head. He was steady on his feet, though the tension around his mouth betrayed pain. "Cheveyo!" he shouted. "You have to be out there, Cheveyo."

She looked at Cheveyo and shook her head. He gave her a look that spoke of worlds of stubbornness. "He will die, if we don't do something," he said silently. "He will probably die anyway, but we should try. The others are too far to arrive soon."

Her mouth was so dry. She and Pezi were not strong fighters; Cheveyo was, but he was one man against eight. "They'll kill him as soon as you show your face. Eight of them, three of us. We could take a few of them with us, but that's it."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "How good a shot are you?"

"Pretty good. Not as good as Zotum yet, but he's been teaching me," she said. What was Cheveyo thinking?

"Think you can drop a shot to his heart that won't go through the ribs but pierce his clothes and skin to make it bleed?"

She gaped at him for an instant, and then looked at Gosheven, thinking about how to hit him. "I think so. Might kill him by accident."

"He's dead if we don't," he pointed out. She inclined her head, acknowledging. "They should drop to a defensive mode around the body looking out. Pezi, go in and get him. I will create a distraction to further draw their attention. This is crazy and it might not work, but I don't want to lose another one."

Nascha knew an order when she heard one. Without argument, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and drew her boy. setting herself and then dropping from spiritworld into the real world. She was there a bare instant, long enough to let the arrow fly, and then went back into spiritworld.

The sound of the arrow hitting the chest of her fellow spiritwalker was a thump the likes of which Nascha hoped never to hear again. Gosheven went limp; whether she had just killed him, she had no idea. What she did know was that Chogan and the other spiritwalkers looked stunned for a second and then, just as Cheveyo had predicted, dropped to a defensive position, looking out.

Pezi went, and Cheveyo stepped out of spiritworld. Aloud, he said, "Chogan. You are right, I am here."

The expression that spread across Chogan's face was not quite a smile. "Let me end this for you, Cheveyo. You are just losing your spiritwalkers over and over again. I could end it for you."

"Look again, Chogan," Cheveyo said, his tone low and lazy and as dangerous as a great cat. "Today it's you and not I that seem to be missing a spiritwalker."

Chogan turned to look behind him, and his eyes widened as he saw that Pezi had done his work. Gosheven was gone, and there was merely dust where he had been. He screamed a curse, flushing dark, and Cheveyo said silently, "Spiritworld and go."

They did so, moving quickly, losing the skinwalkers behind them, thankfully. Many miles away they stopped, coming out where Pezi had eased Gosheven off of his shoulders, a sheltered area behind a rock formation. Gosheven was alive, Nascha saw with relief. His side was covered in blood and the arrow stuck out of him still, but he was sitting up and quite awake.

Cheveyo knelt beside him and pulled the blood-soaked shirt away from Gosheven's wound. "Didn't even go through the ribcage, it's just stuck in the flesh," he reported. "Going to hurt to get out, though, Gosheven."

"I'm alive to hurt," Gosheven said, flashing Cheveyo a smile.

"True enough," Cheveyo said, returning his smile. "Let's get this arrow out."

Gosheven screamed when Cheveyo pushed the arrow the rest of the way through, broke off the head, and then pulled out the shaft. But the arrow came out cleanly and the wound was easily bandaged. Hania would look at him when they got back, clean and pack the wound. It would leave a pair of small scars when it healed, it looked like.

Once Gosheven had recovered, he said to Nascha, "Thanks. Thought I was dead for sure."

Nascha smiled. "Cheveyo came up with a crazy idea to save you."

The other man laughed briefly, then moaned as his breath caught. "Must have been, if you were shooting me with arrows."

"Made them think we'd just shot you, swiped you when they had their backs turned. Close call, still." She didn't like to think how close it had been. If she had gotten the angle even slightly wrong...

"Made them madder," Gosheven said.

She wrinkled her nose. "The alternative was losing you."

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Glad you are crazy."

"Thank Cheveyo, not me," she told him, unwilling to say that her first instinct had been to leave Gosheven behind and go rescue her cousin, Nastas, and Isi from the Arapaho camp.

"Glad you are a good shot, then. Thanks, Cheveyo." He got to his feet, and they went back into spiritworld and kept moving.

After Gosheven had been seen to by Hania and sent off to go rest for the remainder of the day, Cheveyo say down cross-legged on the floor of the wickiup. Nascha sat next to him, leaned into him. Silently, only to her, he said, "Days like that, I wonder sometimes of leaving."

"Are all the choices so difficult?" she asked. "I can't imagine years of making these decisions."

He bent his head slightly. Right now, in the low light inside the wickiup, he looked tired, and older than he ought to for someone only a hundred and one seasons old. "Most days. Who lives, who dies."

Nascha breathed out, feeling a fragile question between them, one she hesitated to look at directly. "No wonder you think about leaving."

"It's gotten more tempting recently," he said, with half a smile.

She bent forward a bit, reached down and ran a finger on the top of her battered shoes. She had been wearing these the day her family had died. Her grandmother had made them. There were holes in the sides and the leather would soon be too thin to repair. "Well, I may have to leave, if Adoeete's orders clash with what I have to do," she said, her silent voice low and quiet. She didn't look at Cheveyo, but she knew he felt the question between them too.

She felt his hand come to rest on her shoulder. "No, you won't. At least, not without me."

She glanced at him, saw that he was looking at her intently. She almost smiled. "I was thinking maybe you might come along, if I have to go. I don't want to, not yet."

"As long as you will have me, I would like to be with you." She felt no doubt in his words, no hesitation. Warmth rose in her, unexpected and entirely welcome.

"Good," she said, and slipped her hand into his. "I didn't want to assume."

He closed his fingers around hers, and in that motion was everything she needed to know.




With beauty before me may I walk.
With beauty behind me may I walk.
With beauty below me may I walk.
With beauty above me may I walk.
With beauty all around me may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trail of beauty,
lively, may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of beauty,
living again, may I walk.
My words will be beautiful.

--prayer attributed to the Navajo, unknown translator