The Summoning God: Book II of the Anasazi Mysteries by W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O’Neal Gear
Authors: W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O’Neal Gear
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eyes gleamed. Which meant that either he wore a mask, or he’d blacked his face with soot.
Browser looked up at Catkin. He couldn’t see her, but knew she would have an arrow nocked in her bow and aimed down at the lead man. If they discovered Browser, she would shoot. In the ensuing chaos, when men dove for cover, Browser would have a chance to run. Catkin would cover him, raining arrows down upon their enemies until her quiver lay empty. He might escape. Then they would climb up and drag Catkin down.
Gods, don’t move. Don’t even breathe!
Lightning flickered and a roar of thunder trembled the world.
Browser raised wild eyes to the sky. As the Cloud People sailed closer, a rumpled black blanket blotted out Sister Moon and the Evening People. If he could just hide until darkness swallowed the light, he might be able to crawl away through the leaves without them hearing or seeing him.
And Father Sun will shine through the night tomorrow, too.
He glanced to his right. The leader of the war party gave a slashed-throat signal, then pointed to the north. Four men split off from the group and headed toward the path Catkin had taken earlier. There must be a deer trail there because they never stumbled, and no twigs cracked beneath their feet. They turned into a line of flashing eyes and teeth.
More warriors stirred the leaves on the southern edge of the grove, three or four paces away. Browser concentrated on their footsteps.
The warriors moved around the circles of decapitated heads, then waded through the piles of leaves toward the dead bodies where Browser hid. He could see them more clearly now, and the sight stunned him. Each wore a wolf mask, exquisitely carved and painted, and black spirals covered their ankle-length white capes.
They walked out of the grove without a word, coalesced into a group again, and headed down the trail that led to Aspen village.
Browser sank back into the leaves and sucked in a deep breath. The relief was like coupling with a woman. A fiery tingle ran through his body.
On the branch above him, Catkin stirred, her slender body hunching like a cat’s.
“There’s one missing,” she said.
Browser tensed. She must have counted nine on the trail.
“Shh. Two coming.”
Two?
Browser gripped his club again. Perhaps she’d miscounted. Didn’t matter, they could take two. He would leap up and club the first man in the head, while Catkin’s arrow lanced the second, but if one of their victims managed to scream before he died, the entire war party would be on them in less than thirty heartbeats. He would move only as a last resort.
Lightning danced in the sky above Browser and lit the aspen grove. Between the flashes, he saw the two people.
A man shoved an old woman before him. The woman stumbled and weaved on her feet as though injured.
Blessed Ancestors, a survivor.
The woman staggered through the deep leaves, clutching the back of her head, as though to block another blow from her captor’s club.
Then Browser saw the truth. Her captor’s eyes gleamed. Her eyes did not. Black gaping pits stared at the ground. Someone had gouged out her eyes. She couldn’t see. The woman reached out to beseech her captor, but her voice came out thick, the words slurred, meaningless. They must have cut out her tongue, as well.
Hatred welled in Browser’s gut.
The warrior bent down and said, “You are the last. You know why?
Our sacred leader used your eyes to see where your people had fled. We found them all. Now we are done.”
He grunted as he clubbed the woman. She sprawled face-first into the leaves near the other bodies. The murderer stood over her for a time, smiling, triumphant.
At the edge of his endurance, Browser had to strain against his rage. His club hand shook with the need to kill.
Apparently sated, the warrior turned and trotted after his companions.
It took an eternity before Browser heard Catkin’s familiar steps and reared up from his bed of leaves.
Catkin sat
Browser looked up at Catkin. He couldn’t see her, but knew she would have an arrow nocked in her bow and aimed down at the lead man. If they discovered Browser, she would shoot. In the ensuing chaos, when men dove for cover, Browser would have a chance to run. Catkin would cover him, raining arrows down upon their enemies until her quiver lay empty. He might escape. Then they would climb up and drag Catkin down.
Gods, don’t move. Don’t even breathe!
Lightning flickered and a roar of thunder trembled the world.
Browser raised wild eyes to the sky. As the Cloud People sailed closer, a rumpled black blanket blotted out Sister Moon and the Evening People. If he could just hide until darkness swallowed the light, he might be able to crawl away through the leaves without them hearing or seeing him.
And Father Sun will shine through the night tomorrow, too.
He glanced to his right. The leader of the war party gave a slashed-throat signal, then pointed to the north. Four men split off from the group and headed toward the path Catkin had taken earlier. There must be a deer trail there because they never stumbled, and no twigs cracked beneath their feet. They turned into a line of flashing eyes and teeth.
More warriors stirred the leaves on the southern edge of the grove, three or four paces away. Browser concentrated on their footsteps.
The warriors moved around the circles of decapitated heads, then waded through the piles of leaves toward the dead bodies where Browser hid. He could see them more clearly now, and the sight stunned him. Each wore a wolf mask, exquisitely carved and painted, and black spirals covered their ankle-length white capes.
They walked out of the grove without a word, coalesced into a group again, and headed down the trail that led to Aspen village.
Browser sank back into the leaves and sucked in a deep breath. The relief was like coupling with a woman. A fiery tingle ran through his body.
On the branch above him, Catkin stirred, her slender body hunching like a cat’s.
“There’s one missing,” she said.
Browser tensed. She must have counted nine on the trail.
“Shh. Two coming.”
Two?
Browser gripped his club again. Perhaps she’d miscounted. Didn’t matter, they could take two. He would leap up and club the first man in the head, while Catkin’s arrow lanced the second, but if one of their victims managed to scream before he died, the entire war party would be on them in less than thirty heartbeats. He would move only as a last resort.
Lightning danced in the sky above Browser and lit the aspen grove. Between the flashes, he saw the two people.
A man shoved an old woman before him. The woman stumbled and weaved on her feet as though injured.
Blessed Ancestors, a survivor.
The woman staggered through the deep leaves, clutching the back of her head, as though to block another blow from her captor’s club.
Then Browser saw the truth. Her captor’s eyes gleamed. Her eyes did not. Black gaping pits stared at the ground. Someone had gouged out her eyes. She couldn’t see. The woman reached out to beseech her captor, but her voice came out thick, the words slurred, meaningless. They must have cut out her tongue, as well.
Hatred welled in Browser’s gut.
The warrior bent down and said, “You are the last. You know why?
Our sacred leader used your eyes to see where your people had fled. We found them all. Now we are done.”
He grunted as he clubbed the woman. She sprawled face-first into the leaves near the other bodies. The murderer stood over her for a time, smiling, triumphant.
At the edge of his endurance, Browser had to strain against his rage. His club hand shook with the need to kill.
Apparently sated, the warrior turned and trotted after his companions.
It took an eternity before Browser heard Catkin’s familiar steps and reared up from his bed of leaves.
Catkin sat
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