Read The Visitant: Book I of the Anasazi Mysteries Online
Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear,W. Michael Gear
The Visitant: Book I of the Anasazi Mysteries (32 page)
BOOK: The Visitant: Book I of the Anasazi Mysteries
4.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Wading Bird’s brittle voice rose above Flame Carrier’s,
“Isn’t it
worse to allow them to stay when murderers may be stalking their loved ones!”
“Isn’t it
worse to allow them to stay when murderers may be stalking their loved ones!”
Stone Ghost hobbled past and climbed the ladder to the roof.
When he reached the top, he stood for a time, enjoying the majesty of the canyon. A large flock of ravens cawed as they flapped eastward toward Father Sun, their black wings flashing. Across Straight Path Wash, he could make out a line of people coming up the road. They had packs on their backs. Several children trailed in the rear, surrounded by dogs. He cocked his head and heard barks and laughter.
Stone Ghost walked east along the roof toward Browser and Catkin. His nephew looked as if he’d taken a blow to the stomach. As he turned, his round face and short black hair shone in the morning’s gleam. A new fear had been born in his dark eyes.
Stone Ghost called. “It is time that we had a long talk, Nephew.”
Browser’s thick black brows drew down over his flat nose. His weary movements appeared sluggish. He said something soft to Catkin, then clasped her shoulder, and came to meet Stone Ghost.
“Yes, Uncle. What is it you wish to know?” His plain buckskin cape was mottled with the soot of many campfires.
“First, I would like you to take me to the place where you found your wife’s body, then we must search this town, Nephew.”
Browser seemed visibly shaken by the request. He swallowed. “I do not have much time, Uncle, truly. Guests are beginning to arrive for the ceremony. I must sleep before the festivities—”
“I understand, Nephew,” Stone Ghost said and took Browser by the arm. As he led him toward the ladder to the road below, he added, “I will not take long.”
B
ROWSER COULD BARELY FEEL HIS SANDALS STRIKING the sand. He did not know what to think of Catkin’s words. He believed that she had heard Cloudblower speaking with a man, but, as one of the village elders, Cloudblower often entertained passing Traders, clan matrons, or even hunters running the roads. She also had many friends, mostly people grateful for Healings she’d performed.
ROWSER COULD BARELY FEEL HIS SANDALS STRIKING the sand. He did not know what to think of Catkin’s words. He believed that she had heard Cloudblower speaking with a man, but, as one of the village elders, Cloudblower often entertained passing Traders, clan matrons, or even hunters running the roads. She also had many friends, mostly people grateful for Healings she’d performed.
But nothing explained the man’s presence in Talon Town last night, or his ghastly pretense of being Whiproot.
Could Catkin be correct?
Cloudblower knew the murderers?
“You are marching like a condemned man, Nephew,” Stone Ghost said. The breeze fluttered his wispy white hair, revealing the large freckles on his scalp. His thick brows knitted over his hooked nose. “Why is that?”
Browser did not wish to discuss this with anyone until he’d had more time to think about it. He replied, “I have not walked this path since my son’s burial, Uncle.”
“I regret the need to make you relive that day, Nephew. But it’s necessary.”
The cliff loomed ahead of them, the rim blazing golden against the blue sky. Browser searched every possible lump or shadow that might be a man. An eagle perched on a scraggly juniper that had rooted in one of the crevices. The big bird’s head moved, watching them as they approached. But he saw nothing that looked threatening.
At the base of the cliff, his son’s burial, marked by a pile of recently dug earth, stood twenty paces to the left of the empty pit
where they’d found his wife. Twenty paces to the right, the long-dead ritual fire pit sank into the ground. He still could see Hophorn sitting with her head down, dressed in Ash Girl’s red-feathered cape.
where they’d found his wife. Twenty paces to the right, the long-dead ritual fire pit sank into the ground. He still could see Hophorn sitting with her head down, dressed in Ash Girl’s red-feathered cape.
“Five days ago,” Stone Ghost said, “the Keepers of the Sacred Directions came out here, then you led the procession of mourners, yes?”
“Yes, Uncle. I was lost in my grief, trying just to make it to the end of the ritual. I was watching my feet when I heard Flame Carrier scream.” Browser pointed. “You can see the open pit. That is where we found my wife. When I looked up, Flame Carrier grabbed Cloudblower’s arm and stumbled backward. Old Woman Up Above wailed like a homeless ghost. I ordered Catkin and Whip … another warrior”—he could not say that name again until Whiproot was well on his way to the Land of the Dead—“to put my son’s burial ladder down and follow me. We ran to the pit as quickly as we could.”
Stone Ghost walked with his arms folded beneath his brown-and-white turkey-feather cape. His hands showed through the holes. “What did you see when you arrived at the burial pit?”
“At first I didn’t know what I was seeing, Uncle. I thought it was a man, a tall man. My wife lay on her stomach with her arms and legs sprawled, as if she’d been thrown into the pit. A stone slab covered her head. She wore a white buckskin shirt and pants. Near her feet, the mask of the Wolf Katsina rested. When the mourners crowded around the pit and saw the stone, screams broke out. People begin pushing and shoving. Most ran.”
“Wise people. What happened next?”
“Catkin realized that something was wrong. She pointed to the places where hands and feet should be. The sleeves and pant legs appeared empty. We feared it might be mutilation. Catkin wished to climb down into the pit to remove the slab, but Cloudblower wouldn’t allow it. Catkin had just returned from a walk and had not yet been ritually cleansed in pinyon pine smoke. So Cloudblower climbed into the pit and shoved the stone aside.”
Browser’s exhausted heart throbbed with the memory. He propped his hand on his war club. “Bloody pulp filled her crushed
skull. My wife’s long hair had been cut short, as if in mourning. I do not know why a murderer would do such a thing. It makes no sense.”
skull. My wife’s long hair had been cut short, as if in mourning. I do not know why a murderer would do such a thing. It makes no sense.”
“But thorough work,” Stone Ghost murmured. His disconcerting eyes flared a little wider. “How could you tell it was your wife, Nephew?”
In his souls, Browser could see her small, delicate hand, and feel the stiffness. “She was wearing the snake bracelet I gave her at our Joining, Uncle.”
Browser stopped in front of the burial pit, and Stone Ghost moved up beside him. He gripped Browser’s arm for support. As the old man leaned over, his tawdry pottery disk necklaces swung. Owl feathers scattered the bottom of the grave.
Browser sucked in a sharp breath.
“The feathers aren’t witchery, Nephew.” Stone Ghost pointed to the cliff. “Owls perch in the crevices at night. I saw their eyes shining early this morning.”
Browser squinted at the white splotches of droppings that streaked the wall. His uncle was probably right. Still, the feathers worried him.
“You have had a few days to consider what you saw, Nephew. Why do you think the murderer would dress her in white, cut her hair, and place a stone over her head?”
Browser’s gaze returned to the rim. As the day warmed, the scent of damp stone rose. Had the murderers been watching that day? Peering over the edge of the cliff, smiling at the happenings below?
“He didn’t want her breath-heart soul to escape, that’s why he used the stone. And”—he kicked at a small chunk of sandstone—“perhaps he believed her to be a witch. Many people in the village whispered that she was, but I never saw it, Uncle. A man would know if his wife were a witch, wouldn’t he?”
Stone Ghost lightly touched Browser’s hand. “I think so, Nephew.”
Browser’s gaze strayed to his son’s burial. From the depths of his souls, he saw Grass Moon smile and heard his son calling,
“Father? Father, come and play with me?”
The pain in his chest made it hard to breathe.
“Father? Father, come and play with me?”
The pain in his chest made it hard to breathe.
“Where was Hophorn sitting, Nephew?” Stone Ghost asked.
He pointed. “Over there. She had her back against the cliff. Catkin noticed the trail of red feathers that led from the burial pit to Hophorn. Apparently, the murderer had taken the red cape my wife had been wearing, carried it over, and draped it around Hophorn’s shoulders. Hophorn was also sheathed in ashes, Uncle, and four lines led away from her in the sacred directions. As if the murderer had purified her.”
“More likely, Nephew, he was absolving himself of the act of attacking her.” Stone Ghost frowned at the fire pit. “What else, Nephew?”
“Two ash-coated eagle feathers stuck out from beneath her sandals.”
“Two? Not four? He didn’t leave one for each direction?”
“Two, Uncle.”
Stone Ghost nodded. “And then your wife’s body disappeared, yes?”
“Yes, Uncle.”
Stone Ghost said, “Where was Cloudblower when the body vanished?”
Browser grimaced. “She is not the murderer, Uncle. You must trust me about this. I know her. She was in Talon Town, opening Hophorn’s skull when it happened.”
“Was anyone with her?”
“Yes,” he answered. After Catkin’s words, how could he still defend Cloudblower? His own emotions churned. “Redcrop was aiding Cloudblower in the Healing.”
Stone Ghost scratched his wrinkled cheek. “The entire time?”
Browser thought about that. “I don’t know. Whip—one of my warriors was standing guard over Talon Town that morning.”
“And now that warrior is dead.”
Browser’s belly knotted. “Are you saying he was killed because he knew Cloudblower had left? That he saw her take my wife’s body?”
Stone Ghost gave him a lopsided smile. “Why, no, Nephew. You’re the one who said that. Were you trying to tell me something?”
Browser frowned, then shook his head. “No.”
A brown-and-white feather tore loose from Stone Ghost’s cape
and flipped away, somersaulting through the air. Stone Ghost smiled and gestured to it. “Was the wind blowing the morning you discovered your wife’s body?”
and flipped away, somersaulting through the air. Stone Ghost smiled and gestured to it. “Was the wind blowing the morning you discovered your wife’s body?”
Browser struggled to recall. “Yes. I think so. Just a breeze, but it made the morning seem colder.”
“Yet Catkin could follow a trail of feathers, Nephew? Did that not strike you as odd? Surely all such feathers would have blown away less than one-quarter finger of time after being dropped.”
As the cliff absorbed the morning sunlight, it warmed and gave off a faintly sweet scent, like a mixture of dust and cactus flowers.
Browser looked down into his uncle’s strangely glowing eyes. “Blessed gods. Are you suggesting—”
“No, I’m telling you. The red feathers must have been dropped only moments before the burial party arrived. That’s also why you found only two eagle feathers. Wind Baby pulled them loose.”
The cawing of the ravens suddenly turned loud, raucous, as if in warning. Browser listened to them with blood pounding in his ears. “Which means the murderer was here. Close by. Probably watching.”
Stone Ghost took Browser’s arm and guided him toward the ritual fire pit where Hophorn had been attacked. “They always watch, Nephew. If they can. That’s their triumph. Why create a pageant if you can’t see the audience’s reaction?”
They walked into the shade cast by the cliff; Stone Ghost released Browser’s arm and carefully walked around the dead fire. Charcoal chunks thrust up through a layer of ice.
“Catkin told me that you found a strange mark near the fire pit where the sand had thawed. She thought it might have been part of a footprint. Is it still here?”
Browser knelt and tapped his finger to the ground. “This is the mark, Uncle.”
Stone Ghost examined the arc in the soil. “Did you think this was a heel print, Nephew?”
“I thought it might be. If so, it was made by a big, heavy man.”
“Indeed.” Stone Ghost got down on his hands and knees, and scrutinized the shape with great care. “Was the fire blazing when you arrived? Or burning low, and steady?”
“Blazing, Uncle. I remember because I thought Hophorn must have heard us coming and added wood.”
Stone Ghost grunted to his feet. “Did you find anything else?”
Browser hesitated, then reached beneath his cape, to the pouch he wore around his waist. He drew out the turquoise wolf and held it before Stone Ghost on his open palm. “This, Uncle.”
Stone Ghost’s wrinkled lips parted, as if in awe. “I haven’t seen one of those in sixty sun cycles. Where did you find it?”
“There. It was resting on top of a red feather.”
Rather than reaching for the precious object, Stone Ghost frowned at the place Browser pointed. “Where was Hophorn sitting ?”
“In the rear, Uncle.”
Stone Ghost skirted the pit and sat down in the same place Hophorn had been sitting, as if trying to imagine what she had seen that morning. His gaze moved from the empty burial pit, to the place where the wolf and feather had rested beside the heel print.
“Have you shown that wolf to anyone, Nephew?”
“Catkin knows, Uncle. She was here when I found it. But I’ve told no one else. I’m sure she hasn’t either.”
As he rose to his feet, Stone Ghost said, “That, my Nephew, is why you are both still alive.”
Browser searched the rim again, and scanned the piles of rock behind Talon Town. “Why?”
“Because he was watching,” Stone Ghost said calmly. “He knows that one of you has it.”
“But if—if he knows—why doesn’t he just kill us and search us?”
Stone Ghost grinned. “He can’t risk killing you before he questions you, Nephew. Only a person with the wits of a blood-sucking fly would carry a legendary Power object in his belt pouch.”
Browser looked down. The Turquoise Wolf had a curious, unnatural glint in her eyes, as if preparing to leap from his palm and run away like the wind. Browser tucked it back into his belt pouch. “I will hide it as soon as we return to Hillside Village, Uncle.”
Stone Ghost affectionately slipped his arm through Browser’s, and headed him back toward Talon Town. They followed an
ancient, overgrown trail that slithered through a garden of toppled boulders.
ancient, overgrown trail that slithered through a garden of toppled boulders.
Stone Ghost stopped in the shadow of the town’s towering western wall and released Browser’s arm. A curving line of cracked plaster and fallen stones heaped against the base of the wall. His voice went low. “I think these boulders shelter us from view, Nephew. So. Quickly, tell me what Catkin said that upset you.”
BOOK: The Visitant: Book I of the Anasazi Mysteries
4.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Other books
Death al Dente by Peter King
The Year of the Beasts by Cecil Castellucci
Rugby Rebel by Gerard Siggins
Untangle My Heart (Tangled Hearts) by Alexander, Maria K.
Suckerpunch by David Hernandez
License to Date by Susan Hatler
Alpine for You by Maddy Hunter
Cherry Blossom Baseball by Jennifer Maruno
Sworn To Defiance by Edun, Terah