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My father may have failed to heed his calling, but his spirit lives on, and he helped me heed mine. I couldn’t have survived it without him.
I run a hand over my hair, surprised to find that my braid is more or less intact, but since I’ve been here for days, I’m pretty sure my scalp’s a greasy mess. And with no immediate way to remedy that, I cover my hair with the red bandanna Paloma packed. Knotting it tightly at the back of my head, wondering if that was its intended purpose when she saw fit to add it.
Then, after tossing my bag over my shoulder and stuffing the raven feather into my pouch, knowing it’s another talisman, a gift from the wind I should never be without—I head for the grainy white border. Having no way of knowing if the boy really did stand just outside of it or if the scene only played in my head—but dropping the thought just as quickly. All that really matters is that I got what I came for—I survived my vision quest. The rest is just details.
I pause for a moment, long enough to take one last look at the cave, knowing I’ll never come here again—then I step out of the dark and into the light, ready to face whatever comes next.
twenty-three
I head down the same way I came, and when I reach the bottom, I’m not the least bit surprised to find Kachina saddled and waiting for me.
Though I am surprised to find I don’t rush to get back like I thought I would.
Instead, I take it slow. Take my time. Wanting to linger, to hold onto the experience, the magick of the mountain, for as long as I can. Stopping every now and then to let Kachina graze for a bit and drink from a cool, rushing stream—while I wander through a grove of cottonwood, juniper, and piñon trees, communing with a variety of birds who introduce themselves as purple martins and red-tailed hawks. Eagerly testing the new powers I’ve gained—increasingly amazed at the magick I hold.
When I come across a mesquite tree swarming with bees, instead of avoiding it like I usually would, I stand directly beneath it. Humming the mountain’s song under my breath as I shake the two lowest branches, causing an army of agitated bees to swarm all about me, though not a single one of them so much as stings.
Then later, when I come across a nest of scorpions, I kick off my shoes and step in the middle. Humming the tune the mountain revealed, and not the least bit surprised when the scorpions choose to ignore me.
And though I have no idea how to get back to Paloma’s, Kachina and I now share a bond like never before. We have an innate understanding of each other. We’ve discovered a new way to communicate—and because of it, I’ve no doubt she’ll lead me wherever it is I most need to be.
We continue the journey—Kachina carefully picking her way through the woods, as I remain in deep communion with all that surrounds me. The plants, the streams, the mountains, the wind—all of it brimming with energy—eagerly revealing their secrets.
Paloma was right. Everything really is thrumming, illuminated, alive. And now that I’ve discovered the truth, now that I’m merged with its power and energy, I can’t imagine how I ever existed without it.
I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth and press my heel to Kachina’s side. Urging her to go faster, and then faster still, until she’s galloping down the trail with her mane lifting, ears pinned, tail swooshing behind her, as her hooves beat hard against the ground. I close my eyes, let go of the reins, and fold my hands around my buckskin pouch, allowing my body to rise and fall as I part my lips wide and sing the mountainsong at the top of my lungs.
And, as it turns out, even the wind has a song to reveal:
I am cloudy and clear
Stormy and bright
I am the chaos and silence that lives in your mind
I watch over all with unfailing vision
Look to me when you face indecision
With my horse charging beneath me, my vision quest behind me, the elements singing in harmony—I’ve never felt so free, so empowered, so alive. One song fading into the next as my voice continues to rise—until Kachina veers a sharp right, causing her to tilt in a way I didn’t expect.
I lose my balance. Land on the saddle all wrong. Blinking, fumbling, and flailing for the horn, the reins, her mane—searching for something that’ll help me right myself again.
She skids to a stop, rises on her hind legs, and snorts in protest, as her front legs kick before her. And I’m so preoccupied with fighting to stay on her back, it’s a moment before I see what caused her to spook in the first place:
A shiny, black, fully loaded, four-wheel-drive pickup truck crowded with teens.
The girls laugh—a horrible, howling, snickering sound. While the boys all stare—wide-eyed and uncertain, having no idea what to make of me.
I yank hard on the reins—try to maneuver ar
ound. Having just cleared the bed of the truck, when the driver jumps out, moves right before me, and lifts his dark glasses onto his forehead.
“You okay?” His icy-blue gaze lands on mine, though just like the dreams, it fails to reflect.
I swallow. Try to steer around him. But it’s no use. He just mimics my moves. Everywhere I go, he appears right before me, frustrating me to the point where I shout, “Go away!” Practically spitting the words, seeing no need for fake courtesies.
“I’ll get out of your way when I’m sure you’re okay,” he says, going for Kachina’s bridle, but she’s on my side, which means she rears her head back and slips from his grasp. “Your horse had quite a scare, and I’m afraid it’s my fault. I probably shouldn’t have parked on the trail like I did. You okay?” He arranges his face into a mask of concern.
