Blackening Song (27 page)

“We have to find out just who that was,” Ella said. “I’ll ask around. I have a feeling the police didn’t get much cooperation from this crowd, not when some of their own were arrested.” One group of ladies was still arguing about the police
response.

“Wilson, shouldn’t you be leaving for the ceremonial now?” she asked, her gaze on her mother, who was trying to calm an old man and his wife.

“Before I go anywhere, I’m going to check my answering machine. Clifford has my home number, and the code you suggested we use in case of an emergency,” Wilson said.

She’d been with her brother less than two hours ago, but in view of the circumstances,
it couldn’t hurt. “Let’s do that now. There’s a pay phone at the gas station across the street.”

They walked outside, dodging the cars of a few curious onlookers who were cruising by because of the recent excitement. Several people stood around the gas pumps, drinking sodas and gossiping excitedly about the near riot.

Wilson dialed, covering one ear with his hand as he struggled to hear above
the din of voices nearby. “He’s in trouble,” he said flatly after a moment. “We’ve got to leave right now.”

Ella didn’t bother to ask him to explain. There’d be time for that later. Instead, she ran with him back to the chapter house parking lot. Rose had just come outside, looking for them.

“I have to go,” Ella said to her mother.

Rose nodded. Sensing their urgency, she asked no questions.
“Give me the keys to that rental pickup. I can see myself home. You two can use Wilson’s truck.”

Ella handed her mother the keys. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Clifford needs you more than I do right now,” Rose answered, then walked away.

Ella turned to Wilson. “How does she do that?
I
don’t even know what’s going on yet. You haven’t told me.”

“Your mother’s side of the family is very
gifted; you know that.”

“What’s happened with Clifford?”

“The message he left was the code for trouble, but not an emergency situation.” The code they’d worked out included a number of variations.

“I hate to think of him alone out there.”

“You’ve been more alone than he is, living on your own, off the Rez.”

Ella didn’t respond. As they approached the gas station, she spotted several children,
playing on the concrete pads that supported the pumps. “What on earth are they doing here at this time of night?”

“If they’re here, that means an adult brought them.” Wilson paused. “I don’t see any horses or bicycles. A shipment may be on the way.”

“We have to get Clifford away fast.” She pulled to a stop behind a thicket of Russian olives. “We’ll have to go on foot from here.”

Wilson commented,
“I never thought they’d take advantage of a ceremonial to bring in beer.”

“Less traffic, less interference,” Ella reasoned.

“I suppose,” Wilson admitted grudgingly.

“I’ll get Clifford. You stay here and be ready to drive the truck out of here the moment we get back.”

“Right.”

Ella circled in a wide arc across the desert toward the back of the gas station. She could see Clifford standing in
the shadows near the rear exit. His truck was nowhere to be seen. If there was danger, why had he stayed? Surely avoiding a half dozen kids wouldn’t have been that difficult for him. He was the kind of man who could hide in a crowd of three. He’d done it even when they were kids.

Her brother saw her and came toward her, staying low but moving with a fleetness and agility that surprised even her.
He made no sound. It was as if he had become one with the land.

“I was hoping one of you would get my message quickly,” he said.

“Where’s your truck?”

“Across the road, hidden in a canyon. Bouncing around in the desert loosened the fuel line, and before I knew it, all the gasoline had soaked into the ground. By the time I found it, even the sand was dry.”

“Let’s go.” Ella led him to where
Wilson waited.

Moments later, as they drove down the highway, a large van passed them, then turned, heading for the gas station that had served as Clifford’s hideout.

“I’m sorry,” Wilson said. “This is my fault. I thought you would be safe there.”

“I don’t blame you, so don’t blame yourself,” Clifford answered. “At the moment, no place is really safe for me.” He hunched down in the seat as
headlights approached, but the vehicle turned off the road before they passed it.

“But we do have to find a safe house,” Ella said pensively. “You need a home base.” She saw Wilson’s eyebrows knit together as he considered their options.

Wilson looked at Clifford, then at Ella. “I have another idea, but it could get risky.” He checked the rearview mirror for cars.

“Go on,” Clifford encouraged.

“The tribal government has several portable buildings that eventually will become part of the new college. They’re currently unoccupied.”

“Where are they?” Ella asked pointedly.

Wilson exhaled softly. “Not far from the construction site. About two miles from there, actually, inside a fence.”

“Perfect,” Clifford stated.

“Only if you’re trying to make yourself a target,” Ella countered. She
glared at Wilson. “We already know that’s where our opponents have been most active. Leaving Clifford there is a lousy idea! He’ll be vulnerable.”

“No, not really,” Clifford interrupted. “I will be on my guard, and my own powers will support me. But to put it on a level you’re more comfortable with, let me make one point. That’s the last place they’ll look for me. Best of all, it’ll give me a
perfect chance to study the area and familiarize myself with our enemies.”

“Or get killed. This is a rotten plan. Let’s think of another location.”

“No,” Clifford said softly, but with such vehemence both Ella and Wilson turned to look at him. “That place is the ideal hideout. Take me there.”

“How will you survive?” she challenged. “You’ll be on your own, facing danger, with no backup and no
way of contacting us.”

Clifford shrugged.

Wilson glanced at the row of cars heading to the ceremonial. “Why don’t you two keep my truck for now? Drop me off so I can attend the Enemy Way.” He looked searchingly at Ella. “That is, unless you need me.”

“Do you want me to pick you up later?” Ella asked.

“Come by, but let’s play it by ear. If it doesn’t look like the right time, I’ll catch a ride
from one of my cousins and get my truck at your place later.”

“Okay,” Ella agreed.

After dropping Wilson at the dance, Ella continued toward the construction site with her brother. Ella stared at the road, her thoughts drifting. “You know, this investigation has thrown me more than the usual number of curve-balls. Even when I’m sure of an answer, I find I’m wrong.” She shrugged. “Maybe this
place Wilson suggested is exactly where you should hide; I don’t know anymore.”

Clifford looked at his sister speculatively. “Something has happened to you,” he observed. “Your confidence has been badly shaken.”

“On more levels than you can imagine.”

“Tell me.”

Ella recounted the incident with the coyotes, and the animal that had leaped from the flames. “I was sure it was dead, but obviously
I was wrong. It was an awful sight. But if I can’t be sure of something as simple as my aim at that close a range…” She lapsed into silence.

Neither spoke for several long moments. Clifford cleared his throat. “Was this near the main irrigation canal where it crosses beneath the highway?”

“Yeah,” Ella answered, looking away from the road in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“A man and his
son died near there in a hunting accident last year. The father accidentally shot the boy, then killed himself after the boy died.”

Ella shuddered violently, and not from the cool evening air streaming through the partially lowered window. “What are you saying?”

“That area is contaminated by the
chindi.
It’s a place of power for the skinwalkers. You shouldn’t have stopped there for any reason
whatsoever.” Clifford glanced at Ella. “Wilson was with you. He should have prevented it.”

Ella shook her head. “If anyone’s at fault, I was. I was driving.”

“What you lack is knowledge—not of criminals, but of our people’s secrets. That’s something only time can give you. Unfortunately, that’s one commodity we don’t have.”

Ella started to argue, to protest again that her aim had been at fault,
but uncertainty, mingled with fear, kept her quiet. Wilson had insisted they stop and burn the dead animal immediately, right on the spot Clifford now said he should have known to avoid. Was Wilson simply a good actor, working against them? Had he rigged the fire trick to damage her confidence and effectiveness? She hated these questions that circled her mind like a hawk in search of prey.

For
distraction, Ella switched on the Navajo radio station. A news report of the disturbance at the chapter house was being aired.

Clifford’s hand balled into a fist. “More trouble.”

“They made it sound worse than it was,” Ella said quietly.

“You were there?” Clifford asked.

“Wilson and I both were.” Ella filled Clifford in. “Mom can sure take care of herself,” she added, trying to ease her brother’s
mind. “She’s deadly with that purse of hers. There must be a brick in there.”

Clifford never cracked a smile. “Do you see the tactic underlying all this? Those we are up against are well-organized people who intend to foster as much chaos as they can. These modern skinwalkers are deadlier than their ancestors.”

“They definitely want power,” Ella said flatly, without accepting or challenging
her brother’s insistence that their enemies were skinwalkers. “But to what ends? We’ve got to find out what they intend to do with it.”

Ella drove off the highway into the desert. After a ten-minute ride, she finally pulled to a stop. “We’ll leave the truck here,” she said, “and take a roundabout path to the buildings.” She glanced around. “Where are you going to hide your truck once it’s repaired?”

“Just leave it where it is,” Clifford answered. “It will throw anyone who’s after me off my trail.”

“But what if you get into trouble out here?” Ella insisted. “This isn’t like the gas station. There isn’t going to be a convenient phone nearby. Consider, also, how hot it will be—those things are metal, and you’ll bake every afternoon. That’s precisely the time when people are around, so you can’t
come out in plain sight.”

“I’ll need shelter only at night,” he answered, reminding her of what he saw as the real threat. “During the day, the desert itself will hide me.”

“More of your illusions?” she whispered, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Survival. Like a lone soldier.”

They made their way slowly and carefully toward the trailers, working hard to avoid leaving any tracks. Far off, Ella spotted
a security guard with a flashlight, but he didn’t notice them as they crossed the open area that led to the trailers. Clifford seemed to have an innate sense of timing that allowed them to move at precisely the right moments.

Seconds later, they were through the fence. A window had been left open in one trailer, and they easily slipped through.

Clifford looked around. “It will do.”

“Now what?”
Ella asked in a whisper.

“Join Wilson at the dance, but don’t just go as an investigator. Learn how things have been done in the past, and how some traditions always continue. Stop trying to avoid our ways.”

“I’m not trying to avoid anything. By your own admission, I’m dealing with the type of threat most of our people would do anything not to confront, and I’ve been doing that since the day
I got here.”

Clifford held up a hand. “Stop. Let’s not argue now. This isn’t the time for it. We need to band together. Remember the story of the Big Yeibitchai.”

Ella stared at the tiled floor of the portable classroom. She vaguely remembered something about the Twin Sons of Talking God.

As if guessing her thoughts, Clifford continued, “When the children of Talking God were half-grown, they
were stricken with two diseases. One was struck blind, and the other’s limbs withered. Being useless to their mother’s people, they were driven out to die. But the one struck blind gathered up his crippled brother and placed him on his shoulders. They traveled together that way, until they found the help they needed to be cured.”

Clifford looked over at Ella. “Neither of us can stand on our own
on this, for very different reasons. We need each other, now more than ever. We both have special talents, which make us different from the rest of our people. We are our own best hope.”

Ella sighed. She had to bring up a difficult subject, and this seemed like the best time. “I need to discuss something with you, something that’s been bugging me for some time.”

Clifford said nothing, just stared
at Ella, his gaze sharp. Finally Ella took the plunge.

“Wilson,” she blurted out, “I know how long he’s been your friend, and mother’s, and mine.”

“But?” Clifford asked simply.

“I don’t know if I—if we should trust him very far. He’s always showing up wherever I am or go, and knows everything I’m doing about the investigation. Whenever there’s trouble, there he is. I wonder sometimes if he’s
deliberately playing up the supernatural angle, even arranging ‘miracles,’ like the coyote thing and the skinwalker with the skull, to scare me away.”

Her brother thought for a moment, then spoke. “Wilson could have killed me, or you, several times already if he meant to harm us.”

“Maybe we’re being manipulated—steered toward some specific goal. He can’t use us or influence us if we’re dead.”

“I trust him as I now trust you. Give him the benefit of the doubt, out of respect for my judgment.” Clifford crossed his arms as if settling the matter.

“I’ll go halfway with you. Let’s both give Wilson our trust, but not blindly. Stay alert not only to what he says, but what he does and its effects.” Ella thought Clifford could accept a reasonable compromise.

Clifford nodded. “I think you’ve
misjudged him, but you have a point. We mustn’t allow ourselves to become anyone’s pawns.” He turned toward the door. “Now go to the dance. Wilson will be expecting you. He can help, despite the questions you’ve raised.”