Billy Buckhorn and the War of Worlds, page 4
Using his own Abenaki language, Eddie asked the spirits to speak. “We are your humble servants, gathered to hear your message,” he said. “What do you have for us today? What guidance can you offer to us who wish only to carry out your bidding?”
The lodge again quivered, then vibrated, then violently shook as the multiple voices began speaking as multiple discordant noises before coalescing into one. Then, sounding like wind personified, they spoke. The listeners could feel their words as much as they could hear them.
“The discord and disunity among you are obstructing your efforts,” the multitude said. “Unless and until you are unified with Thunder Child, fully supporting his decisions and commands, your mission will fail, and all will be lost.”
The voice seemed to take a breath, pulling energy and air up toward the smoke hole at the apex of the lodge. Then the message continued as the energy flowed back down.
“Only the solidarity of your unified energy will bring final victory. Only when your focus is fused as one can higher supernatural energies magnify your mortal efforts.”
The voice seemed to pause to take another breath, but no further message was immediately forthcoming.
“Do you have more for us?” Eddie called out.
“Fear not what your enemies have in store for the Middleworld,” the voices answered, “for fear is what empowers them. Fear is what emboldens them. Fear is their primary weapon.”
Eddie felt that the spirits had finished their message. “We hear and understand you,” he said. “We also ask for your patience as we attempt to follow your admonition.”
“So be it,” the whispering voice said.
The rushing sound of wind again permeated the lodge as the canvas shook and the poles rattled. Then all was quiet once more, except for the patter of raindrops. No one spoke. No one moved. Everyone turned inward as they absorbed the meaning of the message for themselves.
In Lisa’s mind, there was no quiet or peace. She was painfully aware that she alone was the source of disunity and contention. She was sure the spirits’ message was addressed to her, that probably every person in that lodge was waiting for her to own up to it. The perceived pressure was unbearable as she jumped up and ran out into the rain.
Ethan rose from his buffalo hide to follow her, but Billy stopped him in his tracks.
“I’ll take care of this,” he said, and Lisa’s dad sat back down.
Following her out the lodge flap, Billy scanned the surroundings as the rain continued to fall. He spotted the girl heading for one of the small covered structures that stood at the edge of the circular dance arena. He made a beeline for the same spot.
Billy quickly caught up to her, and the two teens stepped out of the rain almost at the same time.
“How’d you get here so quick?” the startled girl asked with a gasp.
“One of the benefits of being Thunder Child,” he answered with a smile.
She turned away from him, wiping both tears and rainwater from her cheeks. “Everyone knows the spirits were talking about me in there,” Lisa said. “And I’m so sorry to have been the one to blame for our lack of progress.”
“Don’t be so—” Billy began.
Lisa reached up and touched Billy’s lips with her forefinger. “I’ll go back in there, take full responsibility, and apologize,” she said, removing her finger and looking away.
“Not so fast,” Billy replied.
The Osage girl looked back at him in surprise.
“You don’t honestly think your attitude alone was the subject of the ancestors’ message? You give yourself way too much credit for power over the situation,” Billy said.
He was smiling as he said this, so Lisa was confused about how to react.
“I shook the hand of each council member today, and, except for two people, they had doubts and misgivings about me,” Billy said. “You wouldn’t believe how much they’re all underestimating me and my capabilities. Really, only Wilma Wohali and your grandfather seem to maintain unwavering faith in my ability to rise to the challenge that I was chosen to face.”
“I had no idea,” Lisa said. “It’s really that bad?”
“We’re going to wait out here for a little while longer and then go back in there together.” He paused as he made a decision. “And unless they admit their role in this failure . . . I may take a radical step and disband the Intertribal Medicine Council for obstructing the success of this prophetic operation.”
Lisa was shocked.
“That’s how big a deal it is,” Billy said, looking out at the falling rain. “Morningstar said that I need to follow my own inner guidance and act swiftly, if need be, so that’s what I’ll be doing from now on.” He turned back to Lisa and took her by the shoulders. “So you’re either with me all the way or not,” he said in all seriousness. “What’s it going to be?”
She let out a breath of air and said, “With you all the way.”
He pulled her to him and hugged her with more strength than she remembered feeling from him before. She sensed that he was different now, physically stronger, certainly larger, and surer of himself. It made her feel safer than she’d felt since her grandfather had announced last year that the time had come for fulfillment of the ancient prophecy.
Back inside the lodge, Lisa took her seat on the back buffalo skin as Billy retook his place at the head of the circle of seated medicine makers.
“I’m ready to hear your response to the message from the ancestor spirits,” he said with a stern tone. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
“I think—” Cecil began.
“I already know what you think, Cecil, and I appreciate it very much,” Billy interrupted. “I need to hear from everyone else.”
No one else spoke. They may have realized that Billy already knew what they thought too.
After a moment of silence, Billy spoke. “Except for the five Keepers of the Sky Stone, everyone else on the Medicine Council is excused. Please return to your home communities and prepare everyone you know for the coming calamities.”
Billy heard a mixture of verbal reactions and saw a variety of confused expressions as a result of his declaration.
“Urge your fellow tribal members to pray in whatever way they do that,” he continued. “Encourage them to intensify their practice of traditional ceremonies as much as possible. We don’t have much time—maybe only a matter of weeks or days—before the convulsions begin.”
Billy ignored the raised hands and raised voices that confronted him. “But most of all, what is necessary is faith—your faith in a positive outcome, your faith in the Thunders’ choice, your faith in my ability to accomplish the mission I was chosen for.”
The lodge fell silent again except for the sound of rain.
Cecil stood. “You heard Thunder Child,” he said, breaking the silence in the lodge. “The Upperworld chose him to lead us during this dangerous time, so we must follow his guidance.”
Members of the council realized there was nothing more to be said or done other than to gather their things and exit the lodge.
“Keepers of the Sky Stone, join me here in the center of the lodge,” Cecil, Keeper of the Center, said.
Four elders—Eastern Cherokee Bucky Wachacha, Samala Chumash Doris Armenta, Ojibwe weather maker Andrew Blackbird, and newly appointed Oklahoma Cherokee Wilma Wohali— approached Cecil.
“Lisa, please wait for me at the house,” Billy said as he, too, joined the Keepers.
After Lisa left, Thunder Child spoke.
“It’s time to bring the pieces of the Sky Stone together,” he told the five who’d gathered. “I’m well aware that the southern piece is still missing, but the remaining four pieces need to be put together, ready to go, when the fifth piece is found.”
Cecil could tell that Wilma was not sure what was expected of her. “Remember what I told you about the purpose of the Sky Stone?” he asked her.
“When all five pieces of the Sky Stone are assembled,” she said, “the Chosen One—that’s Thunder Child—inserts the key, the Fire Crystal, in the center piece to unlock the . . . um, I’m not sure what.”
“To unlock a portal between the Middleworld and the Upperworld,” Cecil said, completing the thought, “allowing for the manifestation of spiritual forces to defeat denizens of the Underworld that will be attempting to regain control here.”
“Got it,” Wilma said. “This is all so new to me, but I believe every bit of it because of what I witnessed when I helped Billy and Wesley free Chigger from the grip of the Horned Serpent.”
“For the rest of you Keepers, you have your piece with you now, right?” Billy said.
All four of them nodded.
“Good—take it out and hold it in your hand,” Billy said.
Each one took their piece out of whatever it had been kept in.
“Cecil, I’ll let you oversee the reconnection of the four pieces we now have,” Billy said.
Cecil held his piece, the center, out toward the other Keepers. Andrew Blackbird, Keeper of the Northern Piece, held that piece out toward the top opening of the center. When the piece came within a few inches of the center, it was sucked out of Andrew’s hand and into the center, as if the hub was magnetized and the piece was a chunk of metal.
That was when Cecil was reminded that all five pieces of the Sky Stone had once been parts of the meteorite that landed in Solstice City a thousand years ago.
Next, Bucky Wachacha’s eastern piece fit itself into the right slot of the center.
“While I’ve got you here, Bucky, I need to ask you something,” Billy said. “During my medicine training, you taught me how to find lost objects, for which I’m very grateful.”
“Happy to do it,” Bucky said.
“I assume you tried to find the southern piece of the Sky Stone using those supernatural techniques, so what was the result of that search?”
“We came up empty handed,” Cecil replied before Bucky could get the words out. “We tried multiple times.”
“Any ideas about why it didn’t work?” Billy asked.
“As you learned with the search for Carmelita Tuckaleechee’s place, there are ways to conceal objects, people, and even houses. It calls for the use of the right herbs and spells. Someone who knows how to do that must’ve taken the piece.”
Billy nodded as he thought about the situation. “Okay, thanks for clearing that up for me,” he said, turning to Chumash elder Doris Armenta. “Now we’re ready for the western piece.”
The western piece easily slipped into the opening on the left side. Each piece had reacted the same way as it came closer to the center. It was like they’d been away from each other too long and now they were at last together again and at home.
That left an opening at the bottom where the southern piece should go.
“Cecil, as the Keeper of the Center, you will hold on to the incomplete Sky Stone and guard it until we locate and retrieve the southern piece, which Wilma will personally fit into place.”
Cecil and Wilma nodded their agreement.
“Cecil, when the stone is not with you, let’s use my grandpa’s house as a home base for now and keep it safe there.”
Since Cecil, Ethan, and Lisa were already living there, that made sense.
“Wilma, you are welcome to stay here with us, if you want to,” Billy said. “I’m sure they can find room at Grandpa’s house. Or you can go home until we need you.”
She nodded and said, “I’ll let you know.”
Turning to Andrew, Bucky, and Doris, Billy said, “Thank you for your long service to the Intertribal Medicine Council. Now, please return to your home communities and prepare for the apocalypse as I instructed the other council members. It’s the most important thing you can do right now.”
Billy could tell they were reluctant to leave, felt chastised for their lack of faith, but knew they needed to follow the Chosen One’s directive. Without a word, each gathered their belongings and exited the lodge.
In the remaining silence, the sound of falling rain was the only constant.
he following morning, Ethan Lookout’s cell phone rang, and when he looked at the screen, he saw that the caller was university archaeologist Augustus Stevens.
“Augustus, what’s up?” Ethan answered in a friendly tone. “Good news, I hope.”
“Sorry to say, no. I don’t have any new information about your family’s stolen artifacts,” Stevens said. “But I do have something interesting to share that I hope to get your help with. Can we get together soon? I mean like today or tomorrow.”
Ethan thought about what he needed to get done.
“And it would be ideal if Billy and Chigger could be there too,” Stevens added.
Stevens, of course, had no way of knowing what Chigger had been through with the skili Tuckaleechee, but he had thought it odd that the boy wasn’t present at Wesley Buckhorn’s funeral. He had been part of what Chigger dubbed the Paranormal Patrol.
“Now I’m intrigued,” Ethan said. “Let me check with Billy and get back to you.”
When Ethan told Billy about Stevens’s request, the teen paused a moment to check his internal receptors before answering.
“This could be important,” Billy said, surprising Ethan with the decisive reply. “I’m glad that Chigger is invited. That means we’ll have to meet after school is out. What about today at four?”
“I’ll let Stevens know right away,” Ethan said, “and find out where to meet up.”
“Lisa should be there too,” the teen added.
Billy had no trouble reaching Chigger or convincing him to meet with Stevens.
“Digger!” Chigger said enthusiastically on the phone. “I’d almost forgotten about him.” He paused as he remembered the restrictions his parents had put on him. “I’ll have to come up with a story to tell my parents,” he said with concern. “Some new after-school club I’m joining . . . or . . . I don’t know what.”
That afternoon at four, the Indigenous Archaeology Alliance van pulled up in front of Stevens’s house, which was located east of Tahlequah and stood on the west bank of the Illinois River. Ethan, Lisa, and Billy got out.
Billy carried a backpack with the ornate wooden box that held the Aztec mirror. He was anxious to ask his friend about the pulsating purple glow. A few minutes later, Chigger arrived, driving his own aging brown pickup. After greeting his guests, the archaeologist escorted them to his basement office.
“Chigger, I haven’t seen you since our final expedition to the crystal cave,” the college professor said. “What have you been up to lately?”
“Trying to stay out of trouble,” the teen replied, hoping that Billy and Lisa knew his answer was meant for them as much as it was for Stevens. “For the last month or so, I’ve been playing around with comic book ideas and sketching unbelievable creatures that keep popping up in my mind.”
This information surprised everyone.
“Oh yeah?” Stevens said. “What kind of creatures?”
“The kind that appear in nightmares or horror movies, chasing people and trying to eat them,” Chigger said. “It’s kind of a mystery to me where the ideas are coming from. I can show you the sketches sometime.”
I’d like to see those for sure, Billy thought but didn’t say anything.
“Anytime,” Stevens said. “Anytime.”
He turned his attention to papers and maps spread out on a worktable.
“Now to the reason I’ve asked you all to come,” he said, moving a large map to the center. “I’ve taken a break from teaching classes this semester so I can focus on researching something that’s recently caught my attention.”
“Are those Native American mound sites you’ve identified?” Ethan asked, recognizing some of the locations marked on the map.
“Why, yes, that’s exactly right,” Stevens confirmed. “Spiral mounds, to be precise.”
“You mean like the site where we found the Sun Priest’s remains?” Billy said. “The site the Horned Serpent visited?”
“Yes and yes,” Stevens said.
He pulled an old black-and-white photo from under the map. It showed several men with shovels, picks, and wheelbarrows busy digging up a large circular mound.
“The reason the archaeological site near the Oklahoma-Arkansas border was called Spiral Mounds in the first place is not readily evident now because these men destroyed much of the main burial mound in the 1930s,” Stevens explained. “They were not archaeologists. They were treasure hunters, looking for loot they could sell to the highest bidder.”
Stevens removed another, older picture from a file folder.
“This photo of the site was taken earlier, a few years before the main mound was desecrated and destroyed by those profiteering pothunters,” he said. “Look closely at the surface of the mound.”
Everyone but Ethan looked closely at the picture.
“A spiraling ramp encircles the mound,” Ethan said, already familiar with the archaeology of the site. “Starting at ground level, you could follow the path up and around the outer edge of the mound until you reached the top—a true spiral.”
Guessing that Ethan probably knew the answer, Stevens asked him a question. “And what was depicted on the surface of the spiraling path all the way from the bottom to the top?”
“A serpent,” Ethan replied. “But most mound archaeologists already know this. Do you have something new to share?”
“I do,” Stevens said with a smile. He put the map back on top of the pile of papers and pictures, then pointed to the series of mound sites he’d circled. “Given Billy and Chigger’s accidental discovery of the Horned Serpent in the cave on the Arkansas River, I began looking to see if there were any similar mound sites with caves situated nearby.”
“Digger, please get to the point!” Chigger said loudly in exasperation. “The suspense is driving me crazy!”
Ethan immediately reacted to Chigger’s use of the word digger. “Chigger, we archaeologists don’t like to be called—” he began.
“It’s all right, Ethan,” Stevens interrupted. “Chigger, and only Chigger, has permission.”
