Witch Hunt (26 page)

Thunder Eagle was sullen. He had understood the nature of Red Fire Woman’s medicine. Why did she have to steal his glory by flaunting it? Her actions showed him that she didn’t respect him as much as he respected her. Otherwise, she would not have humiliated him. Ever since he had taken her as his wife, he had never humiliated her — until he struck her and made her walk back to camp.

For days, Thunder Eagle brooded over the situation and how he should handle it. Finally, he accepted the fact that he could not allow her to feel she shared equal status with him in the realm of the medicine powers. It was not proper. He would simply have to prove to her that he had the greater medicine.

He found her outside their lodge using stones to pound the wild cherries that mixed with buffalo meat and fat would become cakes of pemmican. He appreciated how quickly she was learning to be a Cheyenne woman, but now that was not enough to satisfy him. He yanked her to her feet and took her inside the tipi, where he gathered the items they would need for their vision quest. He piled together a smoke-blackened buffalo robe, a bunch of slender greenwood poles, a satchel of special rocks, two blankets to keep them warm through the long nights ahead, a pouch full of water, both of their medicine bundles, and his medicine shield. He urged Red Fire Woman to take a share of the load and follow him as he led the way on foot toward the high butte that was his power spot.

Red Fire Woman followed him obediently and quietly. Thunder Eagle knew that she regretted their hostile encounter and sensed that she was aware of her misdeed, but that wasn’t enough to right what had gone wrong.

When they arrived at the top of the butte, Thunder Eagle cleared a space of land and constructed the sweat lodge. He sank the poles he had brought with him into the ground and then bent them together at the top, securing them with a strip of rawhide. Within the frame, he dug the fire pit, filling it with tinder, wood, and buffalo chips. He was going to start the fire, but it occurred to him that the sweat would be more purifying if the heat of it was started by one of the medicine powers. He gestured his desire to Red Fire Woman, and, hesitantly, she fulfilled it.

When the fire was hot, Thunder Eagle placed rocks into the pit and covered the small frame with the buffalo robe. He took off his clothes and urged Red Fire Woman to do the same. He was dismayed to see her naked form, because he could not allow himself to become distracted by pleasures. Quickly, he turned away, opened the flap of the sweat lodge, and led her inside.

The fire was now a bed of orange coals, and in the darkness of the lodge, the rocks glowed. The smell of spent smoke hung in the air until Thunder Eagle threw a handful of sweet grass onto the rocks. The grass flared and became thin wisps of fragrant smoke. When it finished burning, he opened the pouch and poured water onto the rocks. The air hissed, and a blast of steam assaulted them. He could hear Red Fire Woman gasp and cough, while he felt the scorching heat burn his own face and lungs. His skin grew damp from steam and sweat, and he struggled to breathe. Red Fire Woman made words of protest, and Thunder Eagle thought she might try to leave, so he blindly groped for her arm. Finding it, he jerked it downward to indicate he wanted her to stay. She didn’t complain again.

After the purification was complete, Thunder Eagle threw open the lodge’s flap, and they tumbled out into the bright afternoon sunshine. Red Fire Woman lay sprawled on a soft bed of prairie grass, panting and looking somewhat ridiculous, he thought; her skin was now the color of her hair. Out of respect for the solemnity of the occasion, he tried not to laugh too hard.

He laid their blankets on the ground and sat down on one, facing the direction of the sun’s rising. He gestured for her to sit on the other, and she obeyed. He unrolled his medicine bundle and removed a long, red stone pipe. He had never before smoked with a woman, but these were unusual circumstances. He packed the bowl full of tobacco and lit it in the traditional manner — he didn’t want Red Fire Woman’s strange power to touch one of his personal power objects. The pipe had been handed down through his ancestors and was special to him. He said a silent prayer to Heamavihio, the Great Spirit who was called the Breath of Wisdom, and made a request that their vision quest be successful. He puffed on the pipe and trusted that his petition would be carried to Heamavihio by the smoke. He handed the pipe to his wife, who mimicked his actions. They shared it back and forth until the tobacco was spent. Thunder Eagle gave the ashes to the earth, along with a pinch of fresh tobacco as an offering.

When he returned his pipe to his medicine bundle, he didn’t roll it back up. Instead, he spread out the sacred items for her to see, and he pointed to her bundle and urged her to do the same. She opened the brightly colored bag and began to lay out the items for his inspection.

His attention was immediately captured by the shiny vessel that had a stem shaped like a man’s organ, complete even to the last detail, including the seed sacs at the base. He looked at her quizzically, wondering what powers it held. Then his eyes returned to their examination of the contents of her bundle. There were two large squares of dark leather that contained between them many sheets of animal skin. He had seen other, similar objects in the wreckage of white man’s belongings. They usually had pictures and symbols in them that comprised a written form of their language. There were oddly shaped and beautiful stones, as there were in his bundle. There was a black-handled knife which had two sharp edges, a pointed tip, and unusual markings scratched into it, as well as a rather ordinary-looking white-handled knife. And the most startling of all her objects was a large, round, flat thing that reflected the sun. He leaned over it to get a closer look and was startled when he saw his face in it; he had only seen his face before in the still water of a lake. Quickly, he jerked away. That had to be the most powerful of her objects if it was able to capture the souls of others. He noticed that there were symbols painted on it — the symbols of the night sky easily recognizable to him, the others too foreign for him to know. It was round, like his shield, and was painted, like his shield.

“Your shield is a good one,” he told her. He held his out and pointed to hers, so she could see that he wanted her to use hers as he would his.

She shook her head and made words of protest, but he remained firm. If they were to force a confrontation of powers, they needed to have a similar focus.

Finally, she relented and returned everything but her shield to her medicine bundle. He in turn rolled up his, and the contest began.

Rose understood that she and Magic Man were performing a ritual of some kind, which undoubtedly had to do with her insulting him the day of the prairie fire. He probably wanted to prove who was more powerful. She knew she should let him flaunt his abilities and do nothing to upstage him, but on the other hand, she had believed from the beginning of her time with the Cheyenne that the gods provided her this experience as an opportunity for personal transformation. Should she play it safe and deny her powers, or accept his challenge and accept the consequences? The choice was, for her, an obvious one.

She did wish, however, that he hadn’t chosen the star mirror for her to work with. It was something she had always been afraid to use. The mirror, like the spirit blade — the black-handled knife — had come from distant ancestors in England, and both intimidated her. The blade was used to harness and direct energy, while the mirror was used as a doorway through which the mind could enter the next dimension, a realm her ancestors called the star world. Depending on one’s state of mind, inner nature, and outside supernatural influences, it could be a place where great joy could be experienced, or one that inspired terror. She had never consciously ventured into the star world. However, it appeared as if Magic Man was determined to force the issue.

Rose sat naked under the hot afternoon sun and worried about her skin burning, so she draped a blanket around her body. Then, mimicking what Magic Man had done with his shield and bundle, she propped the mirror against her carpetbag and gazed into it. She was aghast at the sight of herself, but put her vanity aside and concentrated on examining the mirror itself, studying the unusual blue tint to the glass, and the various ancient symbols painted on its surface in silver paint. She had read in the family Book of Shadows that the mirror wouldn’t work until nightfall, but she couldn’t explain that to Magic Man.

Magic Man had brought along no food and used all the available water in the sweat lodge. However, Rose decided that if he could endure the ordeal, so could she.

When the sun began to set, Rose had to keep adjusting the angle of the mirror to keep it from reflecting the glare at her. But it was with a heavy heart that she saw the blinding rays finally disappear over the horizon, for now it meant that the mirror would become active.

The darker the night became, the brighter the mirror seemed. When Rose saw furtive movement within the mirror, fear threatened to overpower her. She closed her eyes and stroked her chest until the trepidation melted away.

The vigil continued all night. Rose, fascinated by the restless quality of the mirror, had no trouble staying awake. She could almost make out the nature of the animate objects in the star world, but never was exactly sure what she was seeing.

The morning sun intruded upon her adventure all too quickly.

At dawn, Magic Man stood, stretched, and relieved himself. Rose thought it was a sign that they would get some sleep, but she was wrong. It was just the beginning of another day like the last.

With nothing in the mirror to entertain her, her struggle to stay awake through the day was difficult. When she would occasionally begin to slouch and slip away, Magic Man would shout something at her, and she returned with a start to hot, thirsty, miserable consciousness. Magic Man, on the other hand, appeared to have no trouble meeting the harsh demands of their ritual. It made her mad, and as her anger grew, it fueled her drive to succeed — although exactly what she was supposed to be succeeding at eluded her. Maybe it was just a test of willpower in the face of all the physical distress they were experiencing. Whatever the goal, she managed to make it through the second day.

As night fell, the mirror came to life again. The images in it cleared, and this time she could actually see the beings cavorting inside the glass. They were nonhuman entities, with small bodies of gray flesh. They were naked, but didn’t seem to possess any distinguishing sexual features. Their heads were round and hairless, and large violet eyes dominated their faces. They moved about with intelligent purpose, and Rose decided they weren’t beasts. She giggled as she watched them build an archway out of glittering, multi-colored stones. They worked at breakneck speed, using one another as step stools to gain the height necessary to construct the upper half of the arch. The building materials were a vast array of precious stones, including diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, and — with the interplay of the luminous light of which the star world was composed — the end result was a dazzling prismatic display that delighted Rose. Upon completion of their work, one of the star beings entered the archway and gestured for her to come into the mirror. She had no wish to relinquish her body to visit another dimension, so shook her head and held her ground. The shiny eyes of the creature blinked in seeming confusion. Soon another beckoning star being replaced the first, and then another. They were tireless in their efforts to coerce her, and it was in such a manner that the second night passed.

On the third day, Rose’s resistance failed. Her hunger had passed, but her thirst was unbearable. She felt weak and dizzy, and was afraid she was going to die. The scorching heat of the sun became an enemy, and she could no longer imagine the comforting sun in her heart. Around noon, Rose decided to abandon the ritual and acknowledge Magic Man as being more powerful. She stood and gathered her things.