Ancient Forces Collection (11 page)

But even as they prayed, even as they prepared for whatever that night would bring, Becka could not shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

Ryan was in danger.

9

I
t was nearly lunchtime when Ryan returned to camp. Becka was lighting the grill to cook hot dogs. When she saw Ryan and Little Creek, she leaped to her feet and raced to Ryan.

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you . . . Where did you go?”

Ryan threw her a glance. For the first time she could remember, he looked angry at her. “I just went out, okay? Your brother thought he heard a noise, and I went out to investigate.”

“What did you find?”

He looked at her strangely. “Where?”

“When you went out to investigate. What did you find?”

Ryan shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Then why didn’t you come back? Why weren’t you here for prayer with Swift Arrow, like you said you would be?”

Finally, Ryan exploded. “Will you stop trying to own me?”

A moment of silence followed. Part of Becka wanted to turn and run away, but there was something wrong here, and she had to get to the bottom of it. When she answered, she was surprised at how calm and controlled her voice sounded. “I just asked where you were.”

“I was busy,” he snapped.

Becka stood, unsure what to do. She was grateful when Mom, always the peacekeeper, called out from her place near the grill, “Ryan . . . are you guys hungry? We’ve got plenty of hot dogs here. What about you, Little Creek? You must be starved.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said softly. “I’m famished.”

“Me too,” Little Creek added.

After lunch Mom headed back to the store for some groceries, and Scott and Little Creek decided to gather up firewood for the evening. That left Becka sitting by herself, staring off into the mountains.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Ryan said softly from behind her.

Becka sighed. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” he asked as he crossed to the log and joined her.

She gave no answer.

“Look,” Ryan began, “I know I let you down this morning.”

Becka said nothing.

“But the reason we’re out here is for spiritual stuff, isn’t it? I’m just trying to learn all these cool things God is showing me.”

Becka looked at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “How do you know that?”

“How do I know it’s cool? Because Little Creek has been — ”

“No,” Becka interrupted. “How do you know
God
is showing you these things?”

Ryan shook his head. “Don’t be afraid of stuff just because it’s different, Beck.”

“I’m not afraid, but I’m not taking dangerous chances either.”

“Who’s taking chances?” There was no missing the edge in Ryan’s voice. “I’m just learning about another culture.”

“By trying out all its rituals?” Becka asked. “After all we’ve been through, that sounds pretty risky to me.”

Ryan looked away. She’d hit a nerve, and she knew it.

Suddenly he was on his feet. “I knew you’d take it this way,” he muttered angrily. “I was hoping to be able to share with you some of the wonderful experiences I’ve been having, but of course you’re judging me before I can get a word out.”

He started walking away, but now Becka was on her feet. “Then why don’t you tell me?” He stopped, and she continued, “You’re right, Ryan. I am being judgmental, but it’s because I don’t know anything you’ve been doing. I mean, what do you and Little Creek do out there all day? Where do you go?”

Before Ryan could answer, Scott and Little Creek appeared, each carrying an armload of firewood.

“Hey, guys,” Scott said. “What’s up?”

“Your sister,” Ryan grumbled. “As usual, she’s up in her ivory tower trying to tell the rest of us what to do.”

Becka bit her lip. She felt hot tears spring to her eyes, but she would not let Ryan see her cry. Not now. Not here.

Ryan spun around and headed back out, away from camp. Little Creek dumped his load of firewood and started after him. “Hey, Ryan! Ryan, wait up.”

A long moment of silence followed. Now the tears were spilling onto Becka’s cheeks. But that was okay because now there was nobody to see them.

“Hey, Beck . . .” Nobody but Scott. “Becka, you all right?”

She nodded without looking at him. “Yeah.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Did you find out what’s eating him?”

Becka shook her head.

He sighed loudly. “That’s too bad.” Then he turned and walked away.

Becka was grateful that Scott was leaving because she had made up her mind. If Ryan wouldn’t tell her what he was up to, she would find out for herself.

It wasn’t difficult to follow Ryan and Little Creek out of the village and into the mountains. Knowing Little Creek’s keen senses, Becka gave the boys plenty of leeway so they wouldn’t see or hear her. Soon they arrived at what she took to be Dark Bear’s holy place. It fit what they’d described . . . and it
gave her the creeps. The ground was still covered from the avalanche. She looked at the stones and frowned. There was a pattern in the way they lay on the ground.

Dark Bear had been hard at work.

Just then Little Creek and Ryan veered off the path and headed into the weeds. Becka followed. The brush and grass were up to her chest, and it was hard not to lose track of the guys while trying to walk as quietly as possible.

They were approaching a tall, looming cliff. The ground sloped steeply, and she struggled to keep her footing as she followed them. Eventually they came to the base of the cliff. At the bottom was a round, dark shadow . . . a cave.

Crouching low in the weeds, Becka watched Ryan and Little Creek enter the cave. She wondered how far it went, if she could follow them in without being spotted — or getting lost. It was worth the risk. She silently crossed to the cave, took a look inside, and then entered.

It was entirely dark inside, except for the reflection of Little Creek’s light up ahead. Carefully, Becka inched her way along the cave floor, trying to keep quiet and yet trying to keep the light in view. But she could not do both. The light was moving too quickly. For one brief moment she wanted to run back to the entrance before she was plunged into total darkness, but she fought off the impulse. She’d come this far, and she wasn’t about to back down now.

She glanced back toward the dim light. To her relief, it no longer seemed to be moving. The guys must have stopped. She scurried along, trying to be as quiet as possible. She eased forward little by little until, finally, she saw them.

Ryan and Little Creek were building a fire in the middle of a large, open cavern. The flames came to life, lighting the cavern and creating dancing shadows on the walls. Becka watched as Little Creek took a small flask out of his bag and handed it to Ryan. “Are you sure you want to take it again so close to the last time?”

Ryan nodded and silently reached for the flask. He unscrewed the lid, tilted his head back, and drank. When he finished, he handed the flask to Little Creek and asked, “Will you stay?”

The Indian shook his head. “It is your time,” he said almost reverently. “I will go, but I will leave the light.”

Ryan gave a single nod. “Thank you, my brother.”

Little Creek turned and headed back out of the cavern, toward Becka. She pressed herself flat against the opposite wall as the boy approached. Without a light, she knew it would be difficult for him to see her. As long as she remained low and quiet, he would pass and she would remain unnoticed. She held her breath as he moved past her.

It seemed like minutes before she could no longer hear his steps. Then, ever so carefully, she eased back around the corner. Ryan now stood in the center of the large cavern. He was looking intently at a wall about ten feet away. From what she could see of his expression, she had the terrible feeling that whatever he’d drunk was some sort of drug . . . and that it had already started to take effect. He was staring at the wall as if he were seeing something, but there was nothing there.

Or was there?

For the briefest second she thought she saw movement. It was up above, more toward the center of the cavern. She caught the flicker of something . . . a shadow. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, but there was no mistaking its form. It appeared to be a giant eagle.

She saw it again, longer this time. It was a misty apparition, half-solid, half-transparent. Becka gasped, and a chill of dread swept over her. It was the eagle from her dreams. Her heart began to pound as she watched it circle above the cavern.

Then she noticed something even more frightening: the crevices and cracks of the cavern’s ceiling formed a pattern — the same pattern she had seen covering the sky in her dreams! The lines, triangles, and squares were arranged in the same swirling, concentric design.

Then, just as in her dream, the eagle’s harsh cry rang out. She watched in terror as the ghost bird hovered one last moment before beginning its dive.

It was headed directly for Ryan!

“Ryan!” Her cry echoed through the cavern. “Ryan, look out!” He turned toward her — not much, but enough to save him from the bird’s talons, which flew past, missing his face by inches.

Becka was on her feet, running toward him. “Ryan! Run, Ryan! Get out of here!”

He stared at her, his face full of confusion, as though he didn’t know who she was, why she was there.

The eagle rose toward the ceiling, preparing for another assault. Once again Becka noted how translucent it was — there and yet
not
there. But she had little time to ponder this as it turned and began another dive.

She wouldn’t reach Ryan, not in time. All she could do was pray. “Be gone, dark spirit!” she shouted. “You have no power over a servant of Christ!”

At the mention of Christ’s name, the eagle shrieked.

Becka watched in astonishment as the bird suddenly changed shape. The eagle’s sleek and elegant form mutated before her eyes. Its wings remained, but the colorful feathers turned to crusty, black leather. At the same time, the creature’s legs grew to thick, stubby knobs and its talons grew longer — sharper and more deadly.

But the greatest change was the bird’s head. The smooth crown rippled into craggy bone and flesh, taking on a hideous appearance that was part toad, part gargoyle.

Instantly Becka recognized it. She’d seen its kind before, on more than one occasion. And although she felt a cold shiver ripple down her spine, she knew what to do.

She planted her feet firmly and shouted, “Demon of hell, in the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to leave this place!”

Ryan stood watching, unable to move. He felt as if he were in a dream. He knew what was happening, but he couldn’t react. All he could do was stare at Becka as she took her stand. But then, behind her, he saw something else. Another movement.

Dark Bear had entered the cavern.

Ryan wanted to yell, to warn her, but the drug wouldn’t allow him to speak. He watched in terror as Dark Bear crept up behind Becka and raised his staff. Desperately Ryan tried to move his mouth, his lips, anything to make a noise, to warn her. But no sound would come.