Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set (50 page)

"You thought that, did you?" Lily asked lightly,
sensing Shala was holding something back. "All on your own? First thing in
the morning?"

Shala looked away, plucked a piece of peeling bark from the
tree's enormous trunk, and studied it intently. "Well, uh, Star Dancer
said you might want to hear it."

So Star Dancer had sent Shala. Lily wondered what the High
Shaman's purpose was—she knew the woman had one. Considering White Hawk's
obvious disapproval of their friendship, she wondered why Star Dancer
encouraged it. Overriding another's wishes didn't appear to be the Dawn
People's way.

"Shala," she asked, "your father isn't very
happy about us spending time together. Why doesn't he make Star Dancer stop
sending you to see me?"

"She is my grandmother."

Lily's eyes widened in shock. "Your father's
mother?"

"No, no. My mother's mother."

The news stunned Lily. Star Dancer treated her so kindly,
and with so much understanding, yet she'd lost a daughter. . . .

A mystery better left unsolved, she thought, returning her
attention to Shala. She particularly liked the stories about the deer who'd
become a wolf and enjoyed listening to Shala telling them. Already the girl
possessed an exquisite sense of tinting, knowing when to pause and when to
speed up for maximum drama.

"I'd love to hear your legend," she said.

Shala jumped off the branch, lowered herself to the ground
with folded legs, and then let her eyelids drift half closed. . . .

"White Wolf Woman was hungry again," she began in
a high, sweet voice.

Since becoming a wolf it seemed she was always hungry.
And this particular morning, she slunk through the forest, nose to the ground,
sniffing for the scent of a young buck. This one was inexperienced in the way
of the predator, and he sped into a ravine where there was only one escape.
White Wolf Woman licked her greedy chops, already savoring his taste.

She followed the buck into the canyon. When he spied her,
he leaped wildly against a rock wall, trying to climb out of the deep ravine.
Young and tender he was, with his small rack of fuzzy antlers.

Jaws open and prepared for the kill, White Wolf Woman
flew at the buck's tender throat. Just before she struck, he turned to look at
her.

 
Here Shala paused,
moving her slender arms in a graceful curve.

Although he'd been only a spotted fawn when Quetzalcoatl
had granted Sienna Doe's request, White Wolf Woman recognized him immediately.
This young buck was her son. She fell back in horror at what she'd almost done.

Her son was too young to remember, and when she retreated
he gave a long warning call to his relations, then circled around her and ran
away.

White Wolf Woman crumpled onto her haunches and howled.
So loud and powerful was her cry, it reached the ears of Quetzalcoatl, who was
in the Old World attending to some folly of the Two Leggeds.

"Please, oh Great One," were the words he
heard. "Please, oh Great One, return me to my people."

Suddenly a fiery ball sped down the narrow ravine. White
Wolf Woman knew it would surely kill her, but so great was her sorrow, she did
not run. If Quetzalcoatl willed her life to end, she would accept his decision.

The tight struck like a thunderbolt, smashing her against
the rocky soil. Her body and mind burst into thousands of bubbles.

When she finally awoke, the sun was setting. She climbed
to her feet and looked down, confused. The ground was much farther away, and
soft brown hide covered her long slender legs, though just a short time before
she'd borne shaggy white fur. Her heart rejoiced, and she gave thanks for the
miracle Quetzalcoatl had wrought.

As darkness fell on the ravine, her stomach growled,
reminding her she still had not fed. Walking easily, lightly, glorying in the
movements of her restored body, she moved to a cluster of grass and began to
eat.

Shala stopped, and Lily waited for her to go on, thinking
the pause was just for effect. But the child remained silent and opened her
eyes.

"I'm not sure I get the point, Shala."

The girl's eyes widened in obvious surprise. "But it's
so plain. All is as Quetzalcoatl makes it, Lily. When White Wolf Woman again
becomes Sienna Doe, she forgets that just a short time before she'd wanted
meat, not grass. That is the way of the universe."

Is it? Lily thought. "Maybe for the beasts, but people
don't forget so easily."

"Star Dancer says we can if we choose to."

Lily wanted to ask if Shala had made the choice to forgive
her mother's killer. She'd made a big mistake by lying when the subject first
came up. But what else could she have done? She hadn't wanted to hurt the girl.
That the lie would only add to Shala's pain if she ever learned the truth was
something Lily preferred not to think about.

She hopped down from the tree branch and offered Shala her
hand. "Teach me more about these marvelous plants of yours, sweetheart. I
never get tired of them."

* * *

After another stolen hour with Lily, Shala went off to her
lessons. At loose ends, Lily wandered around the village, wondering what to do
with the rest of her day.

As usual, food was simmering over the fires, with the
tenders periodically stoking the coals. Meals didn't seem to be an event here.
People simply wandered in and out, taking food whenever they were hungry,
although greater numbers gathered at midday and again at dusk. Right now, the
stone benches were empty. Men and women toiled in the fields. She heard the
giggles of children coming from the longhouse, joined by the richer, deeper
laughter of Star Dancer. More laughter and excited voices came from the narrow
canyon entrance to the left of the pueblos. For some reason all these high
spirits made Lily imps keenly aware of her own isolation.

At first she hadn't been bothered much by the Dawn People's
disregard. If she'd given this any thought at all, she would have realized the
treatment was so reminiscent of her childhood it seemed normal. But at the
moment, her brush with loneliness made her long for Shala's company again.

The girl had so much warmth, yet she was unusually
perceptive and confident for one so young. Clearly the product of gentle
guidance and loving attention, she had everything Lily once wished for and
never had.

Except a mother . . .

Despite the heat, Lily shivered. Turning her attention to
the mouth of the canyon, she saw a woman come out carrying a basket overflowing
with speckled ears of corn. Lily glanced at the fields where the rows of stalks
were wilting, harvested long ago. So where had the woman found the corn?

Badly needing diversion, she strolled toward the canyon and
looked in, finding a barren place filled with sharp amber-hued rocks that
didn't invite one to walk on them. No one was there, and she concluded there
must be an exit on the other end. Sensing the others wouldn't want her there,
she glanced over her shoulder. No one had noticed her presence, so she moved
quickly, hopping from one wobbly flat-topped stone to another until she saw a
flash come from the mouth of a cave. Peering inside, she saw that the far wall
pulsed with brilliance. Strangely, she could stare right into it without
squinting.

What was this place? A site for sacred ceremonies? A burial
ground?

She started to step in, but was stopped by a familiar shrill
cry. Above her circled the large white raptor, nearly invisible against the
harsh glare of the summer sky. Tony's messenger. Or so she'd assumed. Every
time it showed up, he wasn't very far behind. Annoyed, she looked away and
started into the cave.

"What do you think you're doing, wolf woman?"

Lily spun. Dark sunken eyes that were almost lost in folds
of thick wrinkles stared at her menacingly, and Lily clearly read the woman's
murderous thoughts.

"Who wants to know?" she asked haughtily.

"Frieda, mother and grandmother of warriors and
shamans, and she demands an answer." The old woman weakly lifted a walking
stick, slamming it down more from the weight of her teetering body than from
the force she applied. How this fragile creature had navigated the rocks was
beyond Lily's comprehension.

"I was just curious." Lily plastered a smile on
her face. Although she recognized the old woman as the one who'd spit at her
the night she'd arrived in the village, this wasn't a formidable foe and she was
unwilling to berate her.

"Curious, eh? I thought curiosity was for the cat. You
of the wolf lack the intelligence. Sleeping, quarreling, and eating, that is
your way."

Images of a vital square-shouldered woman standing over her
with a spear came from Frieda's mind. Probably a younger version of herself,
Lily thought, able to do what the old woman no longer could.

But Frieda glared up at her as though she was unaware of
this fact. Bending farther forward, leaning heavily on the walking stick, she
curled her upper lip, revealing a mouth with very few teeth.

"See these," she croaked, tapping the black and
yellow stubs. "My daughters now mince my food as I once did for them. Yet
I would rather live with these than have the sharp, dripping fangs of your
kind, or even those smooth pearls you show with your false smile."

Frieda suddenly reminded Lily of Mrs. Preston, and her
polite smile vanished. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Two sons and a granddaughter I lost to werewolves.
Retribution now comes. The Tribunal will prevail. Your time to walk this earth
is ending, wolf woman." With great effort, Frieda straightened her bent
back and again fixed her dark eyes on Lily. "Now leave my sight. You are
not fit to be at the doors of Quakahla."

A small old woman, capable of harming no one, and yet the
fury in the quaking voice shook Lily deeply. Struggling to maintain her
dignity, she turned and hurried back up the narrow canyon, stumbling several
times along the way. By the time she reemerged into the village, she'd almost
convinced herself these people were more dangerous than Sebastian and all his
underlings put together.

As she made the long climb to her quarters, the raptor cried
out again. Lily had the spooky feeling it was laughing at her.

Lily's skin crawled, and she felt suddenly dirtier than
she'd ever felt before. Determined to wipe the encounter with the vile old
woman from her mind, she hurried to her quarters, collected her bathing
supplies, then climbed back down the ladder.

Some of the People were gathering about the fires now, while
others still worked in the field, and with everyone thus occupied, she hoped to
find the grotto empty.

It was, filling her with more relief than she cared to
admit. Stripping off her clothes, she waded into the cool water.

For a time, she simply floated, allowing the buoyancy to
rock away her troubles. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped. Pigeons cooed in
the trees above. Occasionally she heard the hammering of a woodpecker. The
place was a virtual paradise, and despite the open disdain of her jailers, she
felt safe here.

What if she just stayed?

The idea startled her so badly she treaded water again.
Reaching for the sweet-smelling goo Shala had given her to use as a shampoo,
she rubbed some into her scalp and began sudsing her hair. Those disdainful
people, she reminded herself, would eventually kill her. And if they didn't . .
.
 
?

Well, Sebastian still lurked somewhere out there. Although
she hadn't sensed him nearby since she and White Hawk hiked into the canyon,
she knew he hadn't given up. Then, of course, there was Arlan Ravenheart, the
would-be shaman who thought he could tame the werewolf power. Her best bet was
to dupe him into believing she could deliver what he wanted, let him lead her
through the maze.

Then what? Run from Sebastian the rest of her life?

None of these possible futures appealed to her and she
decided to forget about them for the moment. She was alone now in a lovely
grotto and wanted to enjoy this rare opportunity while it lasted. She drifted
onto her back again, allowing the lapping water to rinse her hair, and enjoyed
the slippery feel of Ivory against her skin as she soaped her body.

Wanting to take in the sky, she opened her eyes. Fluffy
white clouds drifted lazily above. One looked like a giraffe. Another reminded
her of a budding rose. And that one looked like a bird floating on wind
currents.

Lily blinked hard. It was a bird! The hawk. How she despised
that creature. Whenever it showed up something unpleasant happened, usually appearing
in the form of the shaman who hated her so much.

Her tranquil mood shattered, she sudsed up, wanting to make
short work of the rest of her bath. The bar slid from her hand and she turned
to retrieve it.

That's when she saw him.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked
irritably, ducking for the cover of the water. "I got the impression this
area was off limits to men."

"It is." White Hawk looked slightly dazed.

Lily stretched her mind to discern his mood and was puzzled
by what she felt.

Desire?

No, she must be misreading him. This man despised her. She
read it in his thoughts, if only hazily, and saw it in his subtle gestures, his
facial expressions. "Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm leaving the village for a while, maybe a week,
even longer." He crouched down next to the water, eyes downcast,
uncharacteristically tense, and drew idle lines in the silt. "I'd like you
to avoid Shala while I'm gone."

Of course. She should have known he'd ask again. It was a
small thing, really, or at least it would seem so to him. She supposed she
could tell him what he wanted to hear, but it would only be another lie.