Dakoda stared at the chief. “Let's say I took the mind walk, then decided I still didn't want to be a part of the clan at a later date.”
Joseph Clawfoot's lips quirked down. “You would, of course, have to sacrifice your memories.”
Dakoda swallowed tightly. “By force?”
The chief nodded. “If necessary.”
Dakoda's inner mule kicked up in protest. “So what's to stop me from taking the mind walk, then going and blabbing to the media all about the wonders of the Tlvdatsi? Maybe even show a demonstration or two?” The question blasted past her lips before she'd fully considered the implications. She'd just made a threat.
The chief's gaze bore into hers from across the table. His handsome face was as blank and impassive as that of an Indian carved out of wood. “Your honor as a member of this clan,” he said in a level, calm tone. “Once you take the mind walk, you
are
Tlvdatsi. To be so isn't just in your mind or your heart. It's in your soul. And I know you would no more betray your people than you would betray the man whose death you wish to avenge.” His stern look gentled. “You can have both, Dakoda. You just haven't realized it yet.”
Dakoda licked her lips as a multitude of feelings slithered through her mind on a chill trickle of fear and uncertainty. For a wild second she thought about getting up and walking away from the table, walking as far away as fast as she possibly could on her own two legs.
The thought brought her up short.
You're always running away
, she silently chastised herself. Never making up her mind, staying in one place, or committing to one person. Hell, she'd even wanted to quit training, toss the ranger idea over her shoulder when her feet had gotten itchy and the ties to law enforcementâand to Ash Jenkinsâbecame too binding.
It was always easier to run away.
The faster the better.
Rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes, Dakoda sighed. It felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, bearing down on her with a crushing force. There were so many tugs in so many different directions she didn't know which way to turn anymore.
Her head ruled with reason, which was logical and cold. Her heart ruled with desire, which was flighty but delightful. Neither could be trusted, forcing her to burrow deeper, heading toward a side she'd always doubted existed. The spiritualâwhich had always been achingly empty, ignored because she had no idea how to begin satisfying it. But the waters of knowledge were pouring now, freely and openly. If only she would hold out her cup to be filled, she would be complete, a total and whole being. She would become a woman who could reconcile her three separate parts into a single, absolute entity with a past, a present, and a future.
Blinking away the sting behind her lids, Dakoda suddenly let her hands drop. This challenge would be the most difficult she'd ever faced, but she was determined not to back down. She'd flip-flopped like a fish out of water for days.
Time to make a decision and stick to it.
The fact she wouldn't be going through it alone emboldened her decision. Sitting side by side with Jesse, she could feel the heat emanating from his body. His eyes, normally so gentle and smiling, held nothing but admiration.
As if reading her mind, Jesse's hand slipped onto her upper thigh, squeezing a signal of silent encouragement and support. “You won't regret it,” he murmured for her ears only. His warm palm slid higher, fingers brushing suggestively between her legs.
Dakoda automatically widened her legs, granting him all access. A silent groan slipped between her lips. Oh, man! He sure was making it hard to concentrate on the conversation at hand. She'd been hungering for his touch for days, and now when it arrived, she couldn't take advantage.
Eager to reciprocate, Dakoda slipped her hand across Jesse's back, wiggling her fingers under his T-shirt and caressing the patch of skin above the line of his jeans. An image of his body, so beautiful when naked and fully aroused, popped into her mind.
They exchanged a brief glance. Jesse's gaze heated, smoldering with arousal.
Dakoda caught her breath as a ribbon of desire snaked through her, tying dozens of little knots around her senses. Her nipples peaked with immediate response, brushing against the soft flannel of the shirt Kathryn had loaned her. Her clit pulsed softly across against the crotch of her jeans, aching for another brush of his fingers. No doubt about it. She was wet and ready for anything he wanted to do.
Dakoda knew then she'd made the right decision. “I'll do it,” she said, almost surprised by the strength of assurance in her own voice. “I'll take the mind walk.”
Chief Joseph nodded. “It's settled then.”
Apprehension scraped her nerves. She hesitated a minute, then asked, “When will it happen?”
The Chief glanced out the window at the sky darkened by the night. “Ayunkini is waiting for you now.”
Dakoda psychologically released the breath she'd been holding. “Okay,” she gasped, nodding. “Let's do this.”
D
akoda held on tightly to Jesse's hand as he led her toward the clearing prepared for her mind walk ceremony. Hand in hand with his wife, Chief Joseph led their small procession. Everyone had changed their clothing, discarding modern styles for something Dakoda believed to be their traditional garb; knee-length shirts sewn from a vividly patterned calico material tied with a beaded leather belt and worn with loose-fitting trousers and moccasins. Everyone wore their hair long and straight, their only adornment a simple headband.
Kathryn had loaned Dakoda a shirtdress similar to the one she presently wore. Tied with a beaded sash, the length of it brushed just below her knees. Along with a headband, a pair of borrowed moccasins completed her outfit.
As they approached the waiting members of the clan, Dakoda saw a portion of the clearing in front of the waterfall had been carefully prepared for the ceremony. Four torches were placed at the corners of a brightly colored blanket spread out on the grass. A fire burned nearby, heating a clay pot positioned on a three-footed iron brazier a few feet above the flames. Steam rose from the pot, scenting the evening's gentle breeze with the aroma of burned strawberries.
As Joseph and Kathryn joined the onlookers, Jesse leaned toward Dakoda. “You and I will sit on the blanket with Ayunkini. I will be beside you though the ceremony, as I am the one wishing to bring you into the clan.”
Stomach doing a quick backflip, Dakoda swallowed hard and nodded. If she intended to back out, now would be the time. Despite the urge sitting at the edge of her tongue, she kept her reservations in check. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked as she slipped off her moccasins and stepped onto the blanket. The people gathered around offered no clue, murmuring among themselves.
“Ayunkini will guide you,” Jesse said, leading her across the sacred space and instructing her to kneel before the old man. He settled beside her, giving the old man a brief nod.
Dakoda tried not to stare at the shaman. That, of course, was impossible. Folding her hands in front of her body, she sneaked a look toward the old man positioned between two of the torches. He was sitting cross-legged and perfectly straight. His eyes were closed and his hands rested on his knees. A cascade of long gray hair fell down his shoulders and his face was deeply etched with the strain of a long and dangerous life in the mountains. His tiny frame was whipcord thin. Even in rest his features were stern, his lips drawn down in a slight frown. There was no way to determine his age. He might have been in his eighties, or closer to a hundred. The fire's dim light cast shadows that hid the truth from prying eyes.
As if on cue, the people gathered outside the sacred perimeter fell silent.
After a moment the old man opened his eyes. His penetrating gaze brushed over Jesse. “Who is this you bring before me?”
Jesse's hand slipped back into hers. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “This is Dakoda Jenkins. She has recently been found to be one of our own.”
Ayunkini nodded his approval. “Your scent is very strong,” he told Dakoda.
Not sure how to respond to such a statement, Dakoda nodded politely. “Thank you.”
I think
.
The odor thing seemed to be very important to these people. Though she thought she caught traces of the deep musky odor emanating from the others, she couldn't be sure her olfactory senses were leading her correctly. To her they smelled perfectly normal, hardly offensive.
Just another thing to get used to, I suppose
, she thought.
The old man lifted a hand and reached out, leaning forward and stroking a single finger between Dakoda's brows. “Of the many who have come before me in preparation to take the mind walk, you are one I see much confusion in. You want to embrace your inner self, but you are afraid.”
His words were an understatement.
Feeling very uncertain of herself, Dakoda clung to Jesse's hand. “I-I can't say I'm sure what I'm feeling,” she admitted slowly. “What I have come to learn about the Tlvdatsi is amazing, but also very frightening for me. I'm told I belong among you, but I've never belonged anywhere in my life. It's hard, very hard, to start believing such a thing now.”
Gaze softening, the shaman lowered his hand. “That is why you are here tonight, child. To learn the truth. Once your eyes are opened, you will see the world as you should, and not as one blind and shackled by ignorance about your race.”
Dakoda followed all this sketchily; there were parts of the old man's English that she only partially understood, for he would lapse into his own language, then catch himself and resume in hers.
She nodded. “I think I understand, and I'm willing to do as you say.”
Ayunkini shook his head. “You must be sure you wish to make the quest of vision,” he said slowly. “To send you into a union of the spirit afraid and uncertain would do great damage. Only if you are sure may you take the mind walk.”
Dakoda looked to Jesse. She couldn't imagine losing her memories of him or the time they'd shared together. As harrowing as the experience had been, it had inextricably bound them together on a level neither could ever truly break. Even if Ayunkini were to erase everything, she had a feeling some things would still linger on an unconscious level. And not knowing or being able to recognize that would be a torture she doubted she could ever live through.
A shiver clawed its way down her spine.
I'd go insane. No doubt about it
.
Forcibly calming an irrational surge of fear, Dakoda swallowed thickly. “I'm ready,” she said firmly, looking outside the sacred space toward all the people watching. They had all come before Ayunkini and made the decision to proceed. She would, too. “Please tell me what I must do.”
The old man made a gesture with his hand. A ladle was dipped into the brew simmering over the nearby fire, filling a small clay bowl decorated with ceremonial symbols. A silent man presented the bowl to Ayunkini before bowing and backing away.
Ayunkini offered the bowl to Dakoda. “First, you must drink of the Asi.”
Hands shaking more than a little, Dakoda accepted his offering. The scent of boiled sweet berries assailed her nostrils. “What is it?”
Jesse gently put a hand on her arm. He leaned over, whispering in her ear. “It's berry wine mixed with a little peyote. It's used to open neural pathways so all parts of the brain are open and functioning at top capacity. It doesn't taste really great, but it will help you relax and take the mind walk.”
Dakoda regarded the brew with suspicion. “In other words, I'm going to be tuning in, turning on, and dropping out,” she grated back.
“Pretty much,” Jesse whispered back.
She stiffened. “I don't use drugs,” she hissed back. “Not any kind.”
He laid a hand on her arm. “It's just a sip. Maybe two. The effects are minimal and you won't feel hungover. You have to drink it, though. The ceremony requires it. You will offend Ayunkini if you don't. You have to trust what Ayunkini does, and believe what you see once you are delivered.”
Sounded like a bunch of hocus-pocus.
“I'm beginning to wonder if I want to meet any of these spirits,” Dakoda muttered under her breath.
Jesse's gaze searched hers. “It won't be easy,” he said softly. “But I'll be beside you the entire time.”
“Promise?”
He nodded. “I do.”
Dakoda regarded the steamy drink. Just a sip was all she needed to take. Just one teeny sip. Surely she could force a bit down. “Okay,” she said aloud to acknowledge her agreement. “Let's do this.”
Closing her eyes, Dakoda lifted the bowl to her lips. Pressing her mouth to the edge, she tipped back her head and opened her mouth, letting the warm liquid trickle into her mouth. She consciously fought not to taste it as the Asi rolled over her tongue. A bitter aftertaste lingered as she lowered the bowl and handed it back to the shaman.
Even as dizziness set in from the potent effects of the drink she'd consumed, Dakoda had the strange impression her skin and bones were commencing to melt away. She hadn't expected such a quick and immediate reaction to the drink, but it was clearly taking effect. When she looked into the old man's eyes, she saw enigmatic little ribbons of flame crawling in the depths of his gaze.
Pulse slowing, a quiet sense of euphoria crept in on silent, light feet.
The spirit is reaching out to touch meâ¦
She felt herself pitching forward, falling straight toward the old man. At the last possible second strong hands caught her, guiding her down onto her back. A moment later her head rested on Ayunkini's lap. His hands settled on her head, strong fingers rubbing slow circles at her temples. She looked upward into a night sky lit only by the light of far-flung stars. To her eyes they glittered like diamonds atop black velvet.
“The truth is yours to find, if only you will seek it,” Ayunkini murmured, leaving words behind as he slipped into a chant to guide her journey.
Tingling from head to toe, Dakoda felt as though someone had taken a syringe and injected a pure shot of liquid energy into her veins. The force spread through her like wildfire across dry prairie grass, tearing apart and reshaping her perception of the world around her. Her mental barriers went down. Everything around her went blurry, receding into the far distance. She had reached that particular stage of relaxation when perception blurred, coherence and control ebbing away faster than she'd believed possible.
“That's some powerful shit,” she mumbled, lulled by the old shaman's gentle touch. Ayunkini's bony fingers skimmed her brow, cheeks, and jawline, ushering in a strange sense of well-being.
The scene around her rippled like waves from a stone thrown into a pond. Her surroundings gradually faded away, receding into the distance.
All of a sudden Dakoda was all alone, her blood pulsing with unconscious rhythm as it followed the current of her nerve endings. She moved, gliding, unconscious of taking any physical steps. Her heart slowed beneath her rib cage, fluttering as her pulse slowed, then briefly stilled. Her fading vision focused on one star, sharper and brighter than any surrounding it. She sensed rather than physically felt the relaxing of her muscles as her spirit slipped outside the surly bonds of her physical shell.
Dakoda reached upward, lifting one phantom hand toward the pearlescent illumination beckoning her to bask in its glow. For an instant nothing existed except the pure white light, beaming down on her, embracing her in its warm pulse of welcome and acceptance. Endless space surrounded her.
Dakoda blinked, perceiving the glow of a blurry face, neither male nor female, yet bearing the demeanor of a wholly celestial being. She wasn't really seeing, but perceiving in some strange way contact with a realmâan intelligenceâfar greater than her own. Her mind, in comparison, was no larger than the common pissant. The invisible force reached out, caressing her consciousness. That first signaling touch of communication delivered a shock.
Drawn into the nucleus of a single perception, Dakoda felt the weight of eternity pour into her mind. She understood and comprehended that life, down to the last and smallest molecule, was powered by the same nucleus of energy. The spark of creation itself inhabited every beingâplant, animal, and human. It was an energy meant to be taken, shaped, and molded. All life was really just tiny particles of energy, billions upon billions of atoms strung together to form coherent shapes for specific purposes.
With practice, a cognizant person could tap into the energies flowing through the electric netting of supersensory nerves, reshaping the body. Even upon death the energy never ceased to exist, simply returning to its natural, shapeless state within the universe. The beginning and the end all linked together, a circle always flowing and never to be broken.
The fusion complete, the pressure invading her mind slipped away. The intense radiance around her flared, shifting her focus in another direction.
With a brief tingling shock, Dakoda suddenly realized she was looking down from space, staring at her own unconscious body. A dim flare emanated around her abandoned shell, the slight glimmering the only indication of her cling to life. All she had to do was turn away, and life on earth as she knew it would end.
She would be one with the creator of all life.
An eerily toneless voice caressed her consciousness.
You are not ready to join me, my child
.
Dakoda felt deeply disquieted. A flicker of dismay crossed her mind.
I wish to stay
, she cried, though her protest slipped from no physical lips.
This is where I belong
.
The voice came again, gentle and persuasive.
There is much left to do on earth among your people.
The brilliance surrounding her flickered, darkening alarmingly to a dull shade of gray. Suddenly the force holding her aloft let go, sending her plunging back toward earth at a terrifying speed. Terrible and twisted shapes rushed at her through the fading light, menacing half-seen faces she recognized as those whom she'd encountered in her life: her mother, Ash Jenkins, Gregory Zerbe, even the countenances of the hated poachers. They were all there, swirling around her as she made her final descent back intoâ¦