Apparition Trail, The by Lisa Smedman Page B

blue sky.
    “The flood wasn’t any more natural than the rest of the incidents I’ve investigated — or that storm that greeted your arrival,” Steele said grimly.
    The Commissioner nodded. “That was odd, wasn’t it? I’ve never seen a storm come up so fast — or disappear so suddenly.”
    “Quite so, Commissioner,” Steele said. Then he gestured at the folder on the desk. “It’s all in there.”
    Steele summarized his evidence: “Indian agent Tom Quinn, whose body was found on the prairie near Fort Pitt earlier this year, was purportedly killed by a wild animal — probably a lynx, judging by tracks near the body. Yet the attack was unusual in the extreme, in that it was focused exclusively on one part of the body. The cat clawed its way into Quinn’s chest and tore out his heart — which it then presumably ate, since the organ was never found. Quinn appears to have offered no resistance: there were no defensive wounds on his arms, and no claw or bite marks anywhere else on his body.”
    Steele gave a faint shudder, then took a breath and continued. “Equally inexplicable was the strange illness that afflicted the settlement of Swift Current last fall, temporarily rendering blind more than two dozen of its residents. The first cases were in the days immediately following a storm that dropped hailstones bearing an uncanny resemblance to eyeballs on the town.
    “Finally, there was the Peigan woman in Fort Qu’appelle who gave birth just over a year ago to a stillborn child. Acting Hospital Steward Holmes, who delivered the infant, noted the peculiar coloration of its skin and hair, and swore upon a Bible that the child had been dead at birth and that its corpse rested for an entire day upon a bed without exhibiting any signs of life. Yet six months later, while ministering to the same family, he noticed an infant with Indian features, pale skin, and blonde hair. The mother told him a medicine woman used magic to bring her child back to life, the day after its unfortunate birth.”
    The Commissioner listened silently as Steele concluded his list. By the unflinching look in his eye, I could guess that he’d heard Steele spin these fantastic tales before.
    “I never heard of any of this,” I said. “Except for the news of Quinn’s death — and that the animal’s attack was unusual, and may have been an attempt by a man to disguise his handiwork. Quinn wasn’t much loved by the Cree; I assumed one of Big Bear’s warriors had killed him.”
    “Mark my words,” Steele said. “It was an animal that killed Quinn — but not any animal that we’ve encountered before.”
    “The full details of each of these occurrences were collected by Superintendent Steele over the past year,” the Commissioner added. “The uncanny nature of the incidents was hinted at in the official reports from the constables involved, but they were simply too fantastic to be given credence.”
    “You’ve seen evidence of the paranormal at work yourself, Corporal,” Steele continued, fixing me with a serious look. “You and Sergeant Wilde both — although the poor Sergeant didn’t live to tell the tale. That fantastic landscape you rode through was the Big Sands: the Indian version of purgatory and land of the dead. Wandering Spirit used his magic to send you there.”
    A chill ran through my body as I thought back upon the instances Steele had cited, particularly the woman who claimed her child had been raised from the dead. If such magic were possible, could a fatal injury or disease also be cured — be made to vanish without trace? If this so-called Indian “medicine woman” truly had magic at her command, anything might be possible.
    For a wild moment, I wondered if I were dreaming. My hands were still clasped behind my back in the at-ease position. I squeezed one hand with the other until my fingers hurt. No, I was clearly still awake.
    The Commissioner looked directly at Steele. “You believe in the paranormal,