Enlightened (Love and Light Series) (21 page)

“You’re done.”

David nodded weakly. “No more.”

Eyes still on the ceiling, head still nodding. “Okay.”

“Now.”

Blackness.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Wet heat, hot steam spread over every inch of her bare skin. She opened her eyes to a dark, closed space lit by a faint orange glow. Trapped between sweaty bodies who were singing and chanting over a hissing sound, clouds of steam rushing over her. Sweat streamed down her bare arms and chest, down her bare backside between her bare cheeks. When the shaman threw open the flap, she was grateful for the cool air rushing in. A jug of spring water was pressed into her chest and she sipped at it. The fire outside the small, round entrance to the sweat lodge sent sparks flying as the tender dug through the coals for another rock. The fire tender passed the rock through the opening into the lodge and dropped it into the pit. The shaman tugged the cover and darkness returned. As her eyes adjusted she made out the shine of sweat on chins and cheeks and knees.

The shaman mumbled indistinguishable words as he sprinkled dried herbs on the hot rocks. Smoke lifted from the sandalwood, sage, and something else that reminded her of David. Her eyes were wide open as the lodge, with all its sensations, faded away.

Tall grasses and mountain flowers waggled in the wind as she spun in the warm scent of sunbaked fields. A huge, black wolf loped toward her, a raggedy mountain looming over him. She felt no fear or anger or sorrow or guilt or self-pity. Joy, peace, love, hope, compassion, generosity were the things that eddied in her soul. The wolf sat on its haunches beside her.

Peace weaved its way through the little spaces in her spine like a warm snake as she stroked the wolf’s shaggy black fur. Staring into its deep, brown eyes—so brown they were almost black—she dropped her hand. The wolf immediately shoved his head back under her hand. She wrapped both hands around his thick snout, running them up and over his eyes as he squinted in ecstasy. He pressed his head into her hands, asking for more touch, more sensation. He lifted his nose to the air, sniffing. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as his hackles rose. Following his gaze, she saw nothing but the raven.

Blackness.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re done.

Weightless, she fell into a voided blackness. Her stomach flipped upside down as she fell through a cloud of ashes—David’s ashes—blowing in the wind.
There’s nothing I can do
.

Silence.

Stillness.

Nothingness.

Through the stillness of the nothingness a voice spoke, “Yes, there is, Loti
.
”

“I can’t change anything I’ve done,” she called out, still falling and swirling in the dark.

“
No, you can’t
.”

“I can’t change who I am.”

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“You can change your direction.”

“I’m falling. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Your time is at hand. Don’t be the rule.”

“Be the exception,” she whispered to the nothingness.

“The way to start is to stand.”

She slammed into the ground.

Loti woke up to hard granite on her cheek and a wind that howled and whined between the rocks. Her body shivered in the cold mountain air. Experimenting, she wiggled her fingers and then her toes, blowing a harsh breath out her mouth at the burning pain. The sun was in the west. Grabbing the leg of a heavy, wooden sign, she heaved herself up onto unwilling legs. She clung to the large sign, flopping onto her stomach. Running clawed hands over the placard, she squinted, pulled back and tried to read the carved words. With a quiet dawning, a different world greeted her. She lay on the sign, listening to the wind, to her breath, to her beating heart, and to the sound of stillness. But the world was as it had always been, she realized. It was she who had changed. A shapeless stillness perched inside her mind, devoid of color or texture.

A breathtakingly beautiful sky teased her with hints of color. They ran and hid whenever she thought she had them. On impulse, she unfocused her eyes, sinking into that newly discovered stillness. Her breath hitched. Lines of color and a subtle, throbbing glimmer—clearer still if she peeked at it out of the corners of her eyes—pervaded everything. She looked down at the large letters carved on the sign.
Katahdin
. That couldn’t be right. The only Katahdin she knew was in central Maine at the far end of the Hundred-Mile Wilderness. She twirled around, her legs buckling. She slid down the sign, looking for what she knew would be there, but still couldn’t quite believe—a cairn had been built not too far from the sign, piled higher than she was tall.

“The top of that cairn is about one mile high,” she said to the lights in the sky.

How could that be? She walked for a few days at most, maybe three.
Four
. It had been four days since Wolf had disappeared into the dark. The western sky blazed in a drift of shifting pinks and purples. Sharp needles bristled through her throbbing hands, and she gasped as she lifted them. She gaped at the delicate glow. Subtle patterns of light played just under the surface of the skin. Curious, she glanced around at the rocks, and they shimmered with a barely discernible web of light. Finding a little more strength than before—not much though—she pushed herself back up to standing. A black raven barrel-rolled across the kaleidoscope sunset; its throaty caw flooding her with an icy fear.

She tested her unwilling legs and caught herself, half-crawling, half-shuffling her way through the rocks. It took a long, trembling time to reach the drop off. Over the edge, the rocks turned to boulders, and her traitorous legs forced her to slide on her butt, her neck aching with the tension of holding back. As she climbed down, she thought that up had been easier, less treacherous. As she scuttled down the mountain, the gnarled, stunted trees David called krummolz, untwisted and stood up straighter. She was so focused on the placement of her hands and feet, she hardly noticed the dimming sky until all of a sudden she was surrounded by towering black trees against a solid blaze-orange. The sun had set.

“Wolf?” she rasped and something stirred inside her. She leaned against a tree, staring unseeing at the pine-needle carpet as the something slid up her back. “Wolf?” she whispered this time.

Loti

She shivered. Hopeful, she put one tentative foot in front of the other, letting go of the tree as a raven’s rocking caw, caw, caw, caw sent fizzing panic up her spine. Wobbling and bobbing down the trail at a dangerous pace, she barely avoided the rocks and roots. Rocks pulsed and tree trunks undulated with life. The air and ground flowed in steamers of light that escalated as daylight faded to twilight. A dancing, sparkling waterfall stopped her short. Her mouth hung open as she reached tentative fingers out to touch the colors. Awash in fear and wonder, a dark foreboding thing that lurked in the corners snuck up on her. She stumbled forward, certain the raven cawing after her was the raven in her dogwood tree. She tripped, slamming into the ground.

“Huuff!” Something landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She screamed as razor sharp claws tore hot pain through her side, and she jabbed her elbow back, connecting with something warm and firm. “Humpf.” The weight fell off her back. She wasted no time scrambling along the pine needle path on all fours, ignoring the burning agony in her side. Not daring to look back, she staggered to her feet.

Woomph! It knocked her to the ground again. She snorted and gagged on the pine needles up her nose and in her mouth. Fiery pain took her breath as claws raked her back and hot streams of blood ran down her sides. Her stomach lurched. Slick hands spun her around to shiny eyes and wet teeth. She thrashed under his weight as he sat on her stomach, crushing her throat with his hands. The colors blurred against the dark as she flailed her arms. An intense pressure filled her head, but then it eased, everything became muffled. It was easy to fade away into the quiet darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The man-shape straddled Loti’s slack form, and Wolf dove for him through the bare branches. They crashed into the ground, each creature grappling for a hold on the other. Wolf’s head jerked around, and his mouth stretched unnaturally wide, fangs extended, as he clamped down on the thing’s neck. Its scream devolved to a gurgle as Wolf tore open his throat, blood spraying. The thing fell to the ground, gargling his own blood as it bubbled from his mouth. Wolf jumped on his chest and seized its head with both hands. Their eyes met for a split second, just enough time for terror and recognition to register in its eyes, before Wolf wrenched its head from its body with a great, wet ripping sound. He threw it, roaring into the night. Spine and strands of tissue swung as the head sailed through the air. It hit the ground and rolled. Taking shuddery breaths, Wolf leapt to Loti’s side. He pressed his ear to her chest, feeling for a pulse in her neck.

“Loti,” he yelled, probing her neck. It lolled at an odd angle.

“NOO!” The inhuman bellow reverberated through the pine forest. He bit his wrist savagely, his blood spurting on Loti’s face, and he cradled her head as he forced his bleeding wrist between her lips. The blood pooled in her mouth and trickled out the corner.

“Loti,” he growled. “Drink. Drink.” He rested her head on the ground and used his bloody hand to massage her throat. “Please, Loti. Swallow.” Threads of panic in his voice, he kept massaging, resisting the urge to shake her.

“Please, Mother, spirits, please.” Blobs of bloody tears oozed down his dark face. “Don’t take her. This can’t be your will. I just found her.”

Loti spluttered and spit blood, her eyelids flitting.

Wolf pressed his lips to her ear. “Swallow, Loti. It will heal you.” She swallowed and Wolf bit his healing wrist open, wedging it between her lips again. She gulped.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Cool, thick liquid in her mouth and warm breath on her ear, Loti swallowed. It had no taste at first, and then gradually became metallic, salty, fleshy, and hinted at sweetness. To her surprise, she liked it. She wanted more. She tried to lift her arms, to press the wrist harder to her mouth, but it was like she was buried in sand and couldn’t move the rest of her body. Her lips parted.

“Don’t talk.” That was Wolf’s voice.

She tried to nod, but the only thing that moved were her lips. She sucked at the wound and the more she drank, the more she wanted. Hot needles prickled down her arms to her fingers until they tingled painfully. As the sensation returned, she fumbled for a grip on Wolf’s forearm and wrist with uncooperative fingers. She gulped against the healing wound until Wolf extracted himself. She whimpered, trying to hold him to her.

“It’s enough, I think.” Wolf held her head up with one hand.

“Wolf, why? What’s happened?”

“Careful. Let me check you out before you move anymore.” He probed her neck with gentle, sticky fingers, and her body pulsed with the familiar energy of his cool touch. Loti yelped as his fingers found a tender spot.

“Does that hurt?”

“Just tender.” She cleared her throat. “What happened?” Her voice was grating and harsh. “I remember tripping and something tackled me.”

He slid his arm under her neck and shoulders, nodding. “Something attacked you.” He worked his other arm under the small of her back. “Let’s see if you can sit up.”

She made a cumbersome effort to acquiesce, but her arms were too heavy to lift and her legs prickled so painfully she cried out.

 “Stop.” He scooped her up into his arms, scanning her torso. “The wounds are healing.” He clutched her to him as he stood.

“Wounds?” But as she said the word, she remembered the searing pain.

“He,” Wolf spat the word out, “almost killed you.” He stalked down the trail.

“Who?”

“I don’t know who he was.”

Loti’s neck protested as she turned to look for the attacker. “Where is he?”

“He’s there.” Wolf thrust his head at a crumpled heap at the foot of a tree. “And there,” he grumbled as he kicked the head with a booted toe, rolling the eyes away from her.