Song of the Ancients (Ancient Magic Book 1) (10 page)

I nodded again, swallowing the lump in my throat. It felt good to admit I was frightened. "I've been having strange visions. I'll touch something, some object, and it shoots me off into a scene someplace I've never been. Why is this happening to me? None of this started until I got out here, to Sedona."

"The land," Sinclair said. "Long ago, Sedona was filled with magic. Natural magic, rising from Mother Earth herself. As the white man took over the land, the power got weak. The natural magic disappeared as the town built up around the sacred rocks. Now only pockets remain. But it's still here, waitin' to be rekindled." He fished his knife out of his pocket and flipped it open. Whistling silently, he began to notch feathers into the sloping shoulders of his wood totem.

I sat silently, taking in the vista. In the distance, pushed together like beads on a string, row after row of houses were strung along main road into town. The line of cars between the rows glittered in the bright sunlight. I sighed and turned back to him. "I'm glad you trusted me to be here."

"We try to discourage outsiders." He gestured in disgust at the houses on the horizon. "Lot of good it's done."

"Why did you make an exception this time?"

"I was told to," he muttered, turning his attention back to his carving. "And because of Standing Bear's vision of you up here with the old medicine woman." Sinclair didn't seem too happy about it.

"He told you about the vision?" I turned to face the old shaman. "He didn't recognize the woman with me. Do you know her?"

He shook the wood shavings carefully from the carving. "Many years ago, a group of women banded together to nurture the magic left in the land. You know there are many other places of power?" He raised his eyebrows in question.

"Like Stonehenge?"

"Another beautiful place ruined." Sinclair shook his head. "Happens all over the world. Everything man touches, he changes." He shrugged. "And so the power retreats, deeper into the earth. But the Watchers are there, at every site. The power sits dormant, waiting to be called."

I widened my eyes in surprise. "All over the world?"

He nodded and resumed his carving, beginning on the body of the creature. "The Watchers work in secret. See, there are others with interest in this power. Darker interests. An ancient medicine woman is guardian of this here area, what you call Sedona."

"She's the woman in Standing Bear's vision?" I slid to the ground and propped my backpack against the side of a rock, leaning on it as he nodded and continued. "Near the end of her life, the medicine woman buried her magic in different places in the mountains. I think those burial sites are what the tourist books call vortexes. But she needed a key to combine those forces, a concentration spot. Right here, where all the Ancestors can help." He patted the ground. "The old woman promised to pass on the information she had scattered to a descendant when it was most needed by the world."

"Hmm. Wait." I dug in my backpack and pulled out my notes from the song on Cathedral Rock. "
Wakan Tanka.
We watch the Earth. It's Lakota for 'Great Mystery,' right?"

He nodded.

I scanned my notes. "And the Internet said something about an organization of sacred entities." I searched Sinclair's face. "Maybe the song referred to the medicine woman and her watchers? I paused, thinking. "There was a lot more, but I can't remember. The whole song felt like a dream. But it ended, 'to man below we send our voices. Be attentive!'"

Finally, the strange occurrences began to make more sense. "So there are Watchers for Earth who are charged with its safety." I stood and faced Sinclair. "And there's something underneath here
.
" I rubbed my boot in the red dust.

"The medicine woman, she warned us a black shadow of hate would blanket the land," he said, looking grim. "When this dark time would come, she didn't say. But she got ready. Powerful medicine women in other parts of the world did the same. They listened to the land. They watched carefully and noticed things others didn't. They waited for the arrival of the dark time, as well as signs from the earth to signal when to raise the power in their assigned land."

"Is what could happen in the world bad enough to call it 'the Dark Times'?" I asked.

He made a rude sound in the back of his throat, like he was gagging on the thought. "You watch the news, read the Internet. So you tell me. Do you feel safe in the world today? Loved by your brothers around the Earth?"

He had a point.

"But when the story gets personal, I get lost," I said. "I've been threatened. Mother warned me. She told me someone wants
my
power, and they're willing to kill me to get it, before the blood moon, the eclipse on New Year's Eve." I looked feet, feeling self-conscious, "it doesn't make sense. I have so little witchcraft abilities, why would anyone bother?"

Sinclair gave me an odd, guarded look. "Have you dreamed of death?"

"Yeah. Standing Bear had the vision of a wild thunderstorm. I think I was
here
." I trailed off, seeing the expression on his face. "What?"

He stayed silent for a long time, turning the carved figurine round and round in his palms, rubbing his thumbs along its dark wood. Then he gave a little nod and fished two fingers into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out some strands of silver-gray hair.

"We feel the dark rumblings in the earth. You and me, little hollow bone. We both hear it clawing its way up to the surface. But why?" He wiped his knife blade on his pant leg thoughtfully. "Maybe your enemies know something you don't."

He shrugged. "It's time to prepare. You come back soon and we'll listen some more. Try and figure this stuff out."

I stood up and brushed off my seat. "Okay. Tomorrow?"

Sinclair shook his head. "No, next week. Tuesday. I will be mighty tired afterwards. Need to rest up before."

"In the meantime, how do I find out more about this medicine woman? Do you have any idea what she was called?" I asked.

Sinclair didn't answer. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth slack. Suddenly his legs seemed to buckle, and he put his forearms on the boulder to keep from falling.

I jumped to his side, afraid he was having a stroke, but he waved me away.

"The key," he began but stopped. He wiped a calloused palm across his mouth and whispered, "Three will be sacrificed to the dark."

"Sacrificed? Who's going to be sacrificed?" I backed away from him. "Was Mother warning me of some kind of ritual sacrifice?"
What have I stumbled into? A centuries-old battle having nothing to do with me.
"No! I am not a part of this!" I backed away further.
Maybe I could just turn the store over to Rumor, get away for a while.
A chill ran urgent fingers through my scalp. Would it do any good? Was this madness only here in Sedona? This crazy old man said Watchers were preparing all over the world.

Sinclair leaned his weight against the boulder. He looked older, wearier, but filled with grim resolve. "The old medicine woman. I believe you have heard her name, or a version of it," he said quietly. "She was called
Wakanda Ondear
."

I stopped backing up. Took a deep breath. Felt the moment of overwhelming fear dissolve, bringing me back to the bright sunlight of the mountaintop. "
Wakan. Wakanda
." I repeated. "They are similar. Do they mean the same thing?"

"The female title,
Wakanda,
is one of reverence," Sinclair said. "It means a person with inner magic." He paused, staring sightlessly at the horizon. "Her last name,
Ondear
, is harder to explain. Loosely translated, it means 'to cause ripples'."

I shrugged. "You've lost me."

"There is one more part of the legend we have never been told." Sinclair looked at me again with his penetrating, appraising stare. "The identity of the Caller, the one who will re-awaken the ancient magic of the land."

He placed his carved figure on the top of the rock between us. He'd added a woman's body to the raven's head and wings. Her body and feet were bare, and she held a spear in one hand and a decorated shield in the other. Woven into the notched feathers of the wings were three silver hairs.

"She is yours now. Keep her near. Take her with you everywhere there is danger, and keep your hollow bone open to receive the power. She will teach you to be a warrior."

Chapter 15: Medicine Shield

I bit into my breakfast sandwich, cream cheese, chopped pecans and green olives on a bagel, while studying Sinclair's raven-woman carving. Impressive craftsmanship, especially since he'd used only one knife. Each wing feather was notched cleanly. I plucked at a silver hair but it didn't budge. The shield she held in her left hand had symbols carved into it, so small I'd missed them yesterday. I carried the figurine over to the window to examine the details. Yes, a tiny stylize bird in the center, next to a crooked arrow, or a lightning bolt, it was hard to tell. To the left of the bird were two wavy lines like water.

I turned back to the computer and typed in
Native American symbols.
I found the water symbol and searched for the jagged lightning bolt, but found nothing. Maybe Kamaria would know. I had a lot to ask her, starting with the whole prophecy and dark-times business. Oh, and the sacrifices. I hoped she
did
know about the prophecy. A doomsday scenario unfolding in Sedona, with the longtime locals knowing nothing about it? The thought of being the only one in town—besides an antisocial old Indian who lived on a mountaintop—who knew about the impending disaster made my palms sweat. I wrapped the raven-woman in a silk scarf, tucked her in my purse.

* * * * *

Unfortunately, Kamaria wasn't in yet when I stopped at her store the next morning. Lilith, her only employee, had opened, and she looked up when I stepped inside.

"She should be here any time." Lilith captured her dark-stained lower lip between her teeth. "She's never late. You know how old people are. They don't sleep much."

She's a good boss. It won't kill you to open occasionally and give her a break, I thought, closing the door quietly behind me. I loosened my scarf, watching Lilith's desultory attempts to straighten the front counter.

Her hair was long and glossy black, her wan body draped in clothes like dark cobwebs, and her skin so pale I wondered if she was a sanguinarian. Why she chose to live in the Southwestern desert baffled me, she seemed more suited to Seattle or San Francisco, or perhaps London. But I wasn't about to ask her. While we were about the same age, I found spending time with Lilith exhausting. Her physical appearance was striking and attractive. But she was filled with neuroses and grief which, according to Kamaria, she was attempting to control through meditation, hot yoga, and magical study. Personally, I didn't think it was working.

I leaned on the front counter and handed Lilith the extra latte I'd brought for Kamaria. "How's business?"

She gave me a doleful look. "We have an appointment with a new customer in just a few minutes. I hope Kamaria gets here before then. I shouldn't have to handle it by myself."

"I won't keep you then," I said, trying not to roll my eyes. "Enjoy the coffee."

As I turned to leave, Kamaria opened the door, holding it for Nicholas, who carried a box of books in his arms. He set the box on the counter and we regarded each other in silence. After a moment, he pursed his lips into a tight smile. "Have you ventured back into a ritual circle since your…unfortunate Samhain experience,
Miss
Danroe?"

I gave him my sweetest smile. "As a matter of fact, I have,
Mister
Orenda. I went to this month's full moon. It was lovely."

Kamara listened to us as she unpacked books, and said, "We also had a most interesting séance. Samantha organized it to attempt to contact her mother, since she didn't get a chance to talk with her during Samhain."

Nicholas lifted his chin and stared down his aristocratic nose at me. "Were you successful?"

"Um, yes." My smile fell off my face, and I swallowed the lump in my throat, recalling my mother's warning.

Nicholas crossed his arms across his chest and studied me carefully.

But before he could interrogate me, Lilith slid between us, her face more animated than I'd ever seen it. It appeared she had forgotten all about being put upon to meet with a new customer. In fact, if she had a tail, it'd be wrapped around his leg. "Hello," she purred. "You must be Nicholas." She shook his hand, held it in both of hers and didn't release it. Instead, she pulled him out the door with her to retrieve the rest of the boxes from his car.

Kamaria watched them, a bemused expression on her face. "My, my, she certainly captured his attention. Well, I suppose there could be stranger matches." Seeing the look of disgust on my face, she hastily amended. "On second thought, no, he seems the type more attracted to intellect, don't you think?"

"
No man ignores a short skirt," I said, watching them through the front window.

The current skirt of interest was hiked up Lilith's thighs as she bent into Nicholas' car. He leaned against the door and watched as she wiggled out of the back seat, her arms around a box. He took the box from her and straightened in time to see me watching them. His lips twitched into a sardonic smile.

I turned away from the scene. "Do you have time to help me answer a question?" I pulled the raven statue out of my bag. "Standing Bear's friend made this for me. Are you familiar with the symbols on the shield?"

"It's a beautiful piece." Kamaria pulled a magnifying glass from her counter drawer for closer examination. "It's a medicine shield. Yes, I know this symbol." She pointed to the thunderbolt. "It represents
Wakinya
, the mythic thunderbird."

"Why do you think Sinclair would carve this symbol on a gift for me?"

"Well, the medicine shield shows the unique gifts the owner brings on his or her life's journey," Kamaria mused. "And the thunderbird is a shapeshifter." She gave me a speculative glance. "Are you?"

I shook my head emphatically.

"Then perhaps Sinclair is reminding you to look for information in other, shifted, forms?" Kamaria tilted the statue in her hands, running her thumb over the carved feather. "This creature is also a servant of
Waken Tanka
, the Great Spirit. Its role is to deliver messages." She gestured for me to follow her and led me to a bookshelf in the back labeled
Native American Studies.
"I have to write a receipt for Senor Orenda. You may find more information here. Browse as long as you like."