Qaletaqa (14 page)

“I admit that when my predecessor, Orenda,
first told me the secret of Bhawana’s vision, I was slow to
believe. I had never faced the Matwau. I knew of no one who had. He
truly seemed unreal to me. It was not until the only two people I
have ever known to find their Twin Souls, Chua and Saqui Crowe,
found each other that I began to understand the importance of
finding the Qaletaqa.

“Chua and Saqui, the grandparents of the
Qaletaqa, met when Saqui came to visit relatives here in San Juan.
Chua saw her from a distance and his soul immediately recognized
her. He started moving toward her, but so did something else. I was
walking with Orenda when it happened. A large wolf crept up behind
Chua. I turned to Orenda to tell her what I saw, but she was
already running forward.

“Before the wolf could reach Chua, Orenda
held up her hand and commanded the animal to leave. It snarled and
snapped its teeth at her, but it did not advance. Chua continued
on, his eyes fastened to Saqui. The second they touched the air
changed around us, thick and right. Everyone seemed to feel it,
especially the wolf. It howled and growled its frustration, but
after another word from Orenda, it raced away from the village.

“Orenda confirmed to me that the wolf was
truly the Matwau in disguise, and that if she had not been there to
stop him, Chua would have been torn apart before my eyes. Since
that day I have waited for the Guardian of the People to
arrive.

“The second I touched the infant Uriah, the
vision of his life unfolded in my mind. I knew his purpose and
praised the gods for his arrival.”

Claire at back in her seat, letting the book
drop to her lap.

“Did you know any of that about your
grandparents?”

“No. It doesn’t sound like they even knew
what almost happened. I had no idea my family had such a long
history with the Matwau. I wonder if he remembers.” Somehow I was
pretty sure the Matwau’s memory stretched back very far. Given what
I knew about him, he would not have forgotten a shaman standing in
the way of him reaching his prey.

Claire didn’t answer my question. Instead,
she looked over at me. “Quaile and my dad weren’t the only ones who
knew about you.”

“I know,” I said quietly. This was something
I had tried not to think about too much. The letter from my father
that had been in the box with the leather bracelet hinted that he
knew I was about to face something dangerous. My mom had on several
occasions passed off my abilities as nothing when they clearly were
unique. They both knew who I was, but they never spoke a word of it
to me. When my mom read my dad’s letter she even got angry that he
had said as little as he did.

There was something else…something important,
I think. But I can’t remember. The day my dad died, I ran up to the
barn, pulled open the door…and nothing. The next thing I remembered
was being shaken by Sophia as I cradled my dad’s head in my lap. In
my soul I know he had tried to tell me something, did tell me
something very important, but I couldn’t force my memory to let go
of it.

“Why didn’t they tell me?” I asked.

Claire’s hand wound around mine. “I don’t
know about your dad, but your mom didn’t because of a promise she
made to Quaile. She said it was because she respected her, but I
think she was really just scared of what she would do if she ever
told. You know your mom believes in the myths and legends. She
probably thought Quaile would turn her into a rattlesnake or
something if she broke her promise.”

I could believe that. My mom was devout in
her tribal beliefs. She poured them on me every night when I was
little. I knew more about our myths and history than any other kid
in school, and I resented that fact. Although I realize now how
selective my mom was in her story choices, leaving out any
reference of the Matwau or details about Twin Souls. I supposed she
was trying to prepare me in her own way, but even still, I refused
to admit it for a long time I knew there was something different
about me. Legendary warriors and heroes plagued my dreams, taunting
me. I didn’t want to be like them. I wanted to be like my dad, that
was it. He didn’t tell me either, though.

“My dad was traditional, but I would have
thought he’d tell me about something like this. He taught me to
fight and be a good person, but I needed a lot more than that.”

“I don’t know, Uriah.” She squeezed my hand,
her expression more optimistic than I had seen in a while. “Do you
mind if I read to myself? I read a lot faster that way.”

“Sure, go ahead. Whatever gets us through it
faster.”

If Quaile thought the book would help, I was
hopeful she was right. That wasn’t something she had been very
often, but I held to the idea that she was planning to teach me
certain things when the magical “right time” came. Those lessons
must be in the book somewhere. But as Claire settled in to read I
found my mind drifting to something else. I saw myself racing up to
the barn, to my dad, over and over again, only to have everything
evaporate as soon as I reached the door. Whatever the brittle
yellow pages of Quaile’s book held, the pressing feeling of needing
to uncover what my dad wanted to tell me seemed infinitely more
important.

13: Exempt

Uriah stayed completely silent as I read. He
didn’t seem to notice when I turned back to the front of the book.
I had tucked Yungé’s letter away in my backpack where Uriah
wouldn’t see it. I didn’t like keeping anything from him, but I
felt that I needed to sort a few things out before telling him
about my part in this mess. I was afraid that if I didn’t wait,
everything would simply become more complicated and difficult.

I turned back to where the letter had been
and read through the account of Nampeyo’s vision. After my dad’s
words and the letter, I didn’t learn anything knew. It appeared
that the only thing the shaman had kept from the chiefs were the
signs that would point out the chosen shaman. They clearly felt
that fell under their duties, not the chiefs’. I carefully read the
next several entries, finding them decidedly unhelpful. They had
nothing to do with Uriah.

When I opened the book to find Bhawana’s
vision on the first page I had mistakenly assumed the entire book
would be dedicated to the Qaletaqa. What it actually seemed to be
was a compilation of prophecies arranged from most to least
important. Most of them were interesting, but had all been
fulfilled decades or centuries ago. I started skimming them more
quickly, fearful that the entire book would be nothing but old,
useless prophecies.

I turned the page, sighing at a minor
prophecy about where to find water during a year of drought, and
started reading the next page. It took me a couple of sentences to
notice the tone had changed. The writing was no longer the formal,
vague words of some dream or vision. The barking tone was a
familiar one. These were Quaile's own words now.

“Now that I have finished writing down the
prophecies Orenda has given me permission to write down, I am
moving on the most important information, the Qaletaqa. In the
following pages I will outline everything the Qaletaqa will need to
be taught when he arrives. I have no knowledge of when he will be
born. I highly doubt it will be in my lifetime, but to those who
come after me, take great care to memorize these words. Even though
I have been allowed to break tradition and keep a written copy, you
must commit every detail to memory. When the time comes to use this
knowledge there may not be time to stop and consult a book.”

I stopped, realizing that Quaile wrote all of
this when she was still an apprentice. It didn’t even sound like
she believed in what she was writing, not really. I turned back to
the book, eager to find out what Quaile failed to teach Uriah.

“Not all of what the Qaletaqa will need to
know will be taught to him by the chosen shaman. It would be too
much to ask, not to mention some of the knowledge is beyond a
shaman’s scope. I will discuss this more at a later time, but first
I will detail the shaman’s responsibility to the Qaletaqa.

I dove into the writings hungrily. I was sure
that everything Quaile pretended to either not know or not
understand would be in this book. I skimmed through the opening of
the chapter quickly. It was mainly just more history on the shaman
and how they handed down their lore and traditions. After that came
some more useful information.

“There are three main areas that the chosen
shaman must cover as she teaches the Qaletaqa. They are the mind of
the Matwau, kinship with the animals, and control of others. Each
of these talents are integral to his success. Failure to fully
impart the methods and understanding involved in these gifts from
the gods will have dire results.”

I snorted when I read that. Quaile wrote all
of this down, sounded so convincing even, but she didn’t bother to
follow her own advice. Maybe she didn’t see the signs in me, but
surely she realized how Uriah affected animals or could push others
to do what he wanted. It was hard to believe she was that blind. I
shook my head and kept reading, skipping over what Uriah and I had
already figured out for ourselves.

“The mind of the Matwau is inconceivable to
most humans. His great love of chaos and destruction is difficult
for many to understand because they are neither as evil as the
Matwau, nor the opposite, so compassionate that they can envision
the opposite of themselves. The Qaletaqa must remain dedicated to
serving others above himself. If his desire to protect others
diminishes, so will his ability to understand and defeat the
Matwau.”

I stopped reading for a moment to ponder what
Quaile said. In the last line she said Uriah’s compassion would
affect his ability to understand and fight. Understanding made
sense, but fighting? Why would his compassion have anything to do
with causing damage to the Matwau? I wondered if it were linked to
his physical strength somehow. If Uriah became more concerned with
living than killing the Matwau, would his body weaken? I asked
Uriah what he thought about it, but he wasn’t any more sure than I
was. My eyes fell back on the words hoping for an explanation. Big
surprise, there wasn’t one. There was something else that caught my
eye, though.

“Because of the depth of the Matwau’s vile
nature, he will never offer mercy, never back down, never let
someone live when he could feast on their life.”

That line caught my eye because it wasn’t
true. The Matwau had the chance to kill Melody, but he didn’t. He
could have ended the threat of the Qaletaqa, at least in theory, if
he had gotten rid of Melody and the bond as soon as he found her.
Instead he chose to take her captive and bait Uriah into fighting
him. What Quaile wrote made him sound like a mindless animal. It
had been many centuries since his creation that the Matwau has had
to roam the earth and learn more than what the dark gods put in his
mind at the beginning.

A battle between good and evil, Matwau and
Qaletaqa, had turned into something more. It had become personal.
The Matwau wanted to kill Uriah specifically. I shuddered. What
else had the Matwau learned during his long life?

I tried not to think of the Matwau soaking up
all the cruel, twisted thoughts and deeds man had to offer as I
went back to reading. The next section focused on Uriah’s ability
to call on animals for support. It explained the gods of light
instilling in each animal a compulsion to help their servants, the
shaman, from the beginning of time, then expanding it to the
Qaletaqa later. It was fascinating to read about how the gods gave
each animal specific characteristics for a specific role in the
world. There was a lot more mythology to animals than I had
realized.

I neared the end of the section having read
about how Uriah should talk to the animals-something he had learned
with Talon’s help, and how to command them. The only really
interesting part of the section was an explanation of how Uriah
could relay his commands from one animal to the next and gain more
distance that way. I explained it to Uriah and he quickly lapsed
into thoughtful silence, trying out the technique. From the smile
on his face, I assumed it was working.

The last section Quaile wrote about was by
far the most interesting. Mind control. As I read I realized that
wasn’t actually what Uriah had been doing all his life without
realizing, but it was close. The way Quaile described it, Uriah was
capable of pushing a small portion of his power into the people
around him.

His power could search out their mind and
feel the weight of their decisions. To me it sounded similar to
something Quaile might do. When I was trying to figure out what was
going on between me and Uriah what felt like ages ago now, I had
read a passage in a book describing how a shaman used her power to
see visions of the future. I didn’t understand much of it, but
touching someone else with their power definitely seemed to be the
key.

What I found really interesting about Uriah’s
ability was that he couldn’t actually force someone to do what he
wanted. His gods-given power allowed him to contact a person’s
decision, but not to forcefully alter their direction. The gods
thought the lack of free will would upset the balance. So Uriah
could urge the person toward the right choice, but he couldn’t
force them. If a person truly believed he was wrong about what he
wanted them to do, it wouldn’t work.

In general, I wasn’t overly thrilled with the
gods and their divine maneuverings. It seemed to me that their
quest for eternal balance had only created more problems and left
more people dead than anything. How that was fair, I didn’t know.
In this, though, I completely agreed. Even though Uriah being able
to force people to do as he wanted would probably be a very helpful
tool, I did not want anyone, including Uriah, making my decisions
for me.