Qaletaqa (16 page)

It made me angry to think of my mom hiding
things from me, but with my dad I couldn’t find fault. If he didn’t
think I was ready to learn what he had to teach, I trusted that he
was right. Unfortunately his life was cut short. He died before I
could show him I was ready to learn that final lesson.

It wasn’t his fault, but I still felt a
shroud of emptiness settle on my shoulders. About to shift my
thoughts to something else out of sheer desperation to escape the
gloom, I was stopped when another possibility took hold of me.

The day my dad died he tried to tell me
something. I’m sure he had a message for me in his final moments,
but I couldn’t remember it. My brain had blocked out everything
from the moment I touched the barn door to when Sophia started
shaking me several minutes later. What if it was the answer I was
looking for? In a dark part of my mind, part of me did not want to
rediscover the secret that waited there.

15: Whatever it
Takes

He glanced at the girl lying on the ground.
She glanced up at him every few minutes. The first day with her had
been almost enjoyable. The fear that poured off of her heightened
his powers. He had not felt more unstoppable than he did when he
held her in his arms in centuries. The corner of his lips twitched
once before he controlled the telling sign.

The intense fear no longer radiated from her.
The terror of not knowing her fate was still there as an
undercurrent, but careful watchfulness had taken over her emotions.
She had woken that morning with a changed aura. The Matwau had felt
the bond strengthening throughout the night, which was too be
expected, but he was surprised by how much it had strengthened.

Wanting to attribute the unusual pace to
something he was familiar with, he searched his vast knowledge as
he watched her. There was so much held in his inhuman mind, but no
specific answer that would satisfy him. Ignorance infuriated him.
He could do nothing else but assume the anomaly was due to her
being the Qaletaqa’s Twin Soul. There had been so many surprises
already. One more should not be so unexpected.

Still, he moved far enough away from her that
she would not be able to overhear his conversation.

“He is still following me?” the Matwau
asked.

“Yes,” One, replied. “He is matching every
change in direction you take. There is no indication that he has
any plans to do anything else but follow the girl’s trail.”

“Have the others reached the site yet?” the
Matwau asked.

“The first group arrived about an hour ago.
The second group followed Uriah until he stopped for the night at a
hotel, but they are on their way to the meeting place now.”

The Matwau ground his teeth. It was exactly
as he had asked, but he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of
leaving Uriah alone. He may be following like a homeless puppy
right now, but the Matwau knew Uriah would be searching for a way
to get ahead of his plans. Since he could not possibly prepare for
every way Uriah might try to outsmart him, he needed someone to
keep an eye on the boy and make sure he did not leap forward in the
Matwau’s carefully constructed timetable.

“When you reach the site, send two of your
more capable wolves back to check in on Uriah. I do not want him
doing anything unexpected.”

The Matwau would feel it if Uriah veered away
from the trail he was leaving, but what about his companions? He
had no way to track them.

“Have them pay close attention to the others
with Uriah as well,” the Matwau commanded.

“I will send Seven and Three back
immediately,” One said.

“Has the first group begun their preparations
yet? I want my instructions followed exactly,” the Matwau
reminded.

“They have finished with the first of the
traps, Master, but,” the creature hesitated, “they are having some
trouble setting up the meeting site.”

The Matwau’s sucked a breath deep into his
lungs, then hissed back out in a slow, steadying release.

“What could possibly be so hard about
clearing out all the animals in the area? You and your underlings
usually drive away the wildlife in an area with your mere presence.
Why should this place be any different?” the Matwau asked.

“There are vermin, beneath the soil,” One
said. “They are deep enough that they do not feel our presence. We
cannot get to them to drive them out.”

“Vermin? You mean like mice?” The Matwau
debated the significance of this. Mice were normally fairly
innocuous, but he wanted no animals present that could aid
Uriah.

“Not mice, Master, prairie dogs.”

Prairie dogs. They were pests, squirrel-like
creatures that dug holes and tunnels all over the region. Farmers
hated them, and so did the Matwau. They could pose a problem. They
were small, only a foot tall, but one empty field could hold
hundreds of the creatures, and with Uriah’s amazing control over
wildlife, he could call in thousands if they were his only option.
The prairie dogs would have to be neutralized.

“Unless I am mistaken,” he paused, letting
his tone carry how unlikely that was, “but wolves, even ones as
twisted as your kind, all have claws. You are capable of digging
yourselves. Get rid of them.”

“But, Master, that will take too long. There
may be hundreds of the little rodents. It would be much easier to
simply choose another spot. I can send out scouts immediately to
find another suitable location. There is no reason-”

The Matwau’s fist shot out too fast for the
creature to track. The matted lump of fur flew across the grove and
plowed into a group of saplings, snapping their young trunks in
half.

“Yes, there is a reason!” The Matwau’s
clenched fist was back at his side, as if it had never left.

The girl let out a frightened squeal, but it
went barely noticed by his inflamed mind. He did notice her moving
further away from him.

The creature the Matwau had just attacked
scrambled to his feet. He hobbled over to his master and was
immediately cowering at the Matwau’s feet. The Matwau clenched his
fists in frustration, at his outburst and his inept servant.
Centuries of practice allowed him to quickly stow away his anger
and regain his calm. His next few words came out quiet and almost
completely devoid of emotion.

“There will be no change in location. My
final encounter with the Qaletaqa must happen in that valley. I
will not accept any substitutes. That valley is too important.
Whatever it takes, I do not want a single living creature in that
spot when I arrive. Do you understand me?” he asked.

Not fooled by his master’s cool tone, the
creature dipped his head in abject obedience. He was quick to
answer. “Yes, yes, Master. Everything will be ready when you
arrive, just as you have asked. Whatever it takes.”

16: Origins

I wasn’t sure when I pulled away from Uriah
and curled up against the door with Quaile’s book. Whenever it was,
Uriah hadn’t objected. He was likely too wrapped up in his own
thoughts to notice. I glanced up at him and wished I could take all
of this away from him and bring back the peace of the ranch. The
bond, the Matwau, the fear, the pain. If there was a way to give
him back the quiet happiness he treasured so much, I would have
done it without hesitation. I sighed, knowing the foolishness of
such a wish, and got back to figuring out how to give him the one
thing I could.

When I started on the next section I was
surprised by the first line
. The Qaletaqa should be kept away
from the chosen shaman until the time to do battle with the Matwau
arrives.
I stared at the words in confusion. Why would they
want to keep us apart? Shouldn’t we have been training together the
whole time? It would have made sense to me if the two people meant
to destroy the Matwau had some experience working together before
they were thrown into a battle with him. My opinion of shaman
wasn’t very high to start with, but I was willing to give them the
benefit of doubt this time. I read on.

The Qaletaqa’s power will far outweigh the
chosen shaman’s power, but her presence will affect him greatly.
Their powers will antagonize each other because they are not meant
to exist in opposition. Only together can they fulfill their
purpose, combined in one vessel. The Qaletaqa’s power will be
largely internalized, while the shaman’s power is most often
directed outward. Because of this the chosen shaman’s power will
try to take possession of the Qaletaqa’s power, weakening him when
they are in close proximity. This attack on his power will be
responded to with pain, a signal to him that he should stay away
from the chosen shaman.

“That’s why,” I whispered in disbelief. We,
mostly me, spent hours upon hours trying to figure out why I
affected Uriah like I did. Quaile had the answer the whole time.
Part of me resented that she could have told us why I hurt Uriah
every time we touched, but I believed her when she said she had no
idea about the reaction. Why should she have? We never told her.
All it would have taken was going to her, asking her, and she would
have known who I was right away. Maybe she would have started
teaching us.

“That’s why what?” Uriah asked.

“That’s why I hurt you when we touch. I was
trying to steal your power and your body was trying to warn you,
make you stay away from me,” I explained. “In the book, it said…it
said that a shaman’s power would siphon away yours, or try to
anyway. It didn’t sound like it could actually work.”

Not yet anyway, not in that direction.

Uriah looked over at me, startled.
“What?”

I had to bite my tongue, hard. I just said
that like we both knew everything I did. My mind raced to figure a
way out of what I just said. Telling Uriah that I may die and lose
my power and the ability to break his bond to Melody was not going
to go over very well. I couldn’t think of any way to take back what
I had just said.

“Shaman?” Uriah’s eyes lit up. He knew right
away what I was admitting, that he was right. But the fact that
shaman was the one word he latched onto surprised me.

“Did you hear the rest of what I said?”

“Yeah,” he said dismissively. “Do you really
think you’re a shaman, or going to be one? How does that even
work?”

I expected a slew of questions about the
power stealing power thing, not so much the shaman angle. “I don’t
know…maybe?”

Uriah stared at me, his face scrunching as he
thought. “But why didn’t I ever feel that from Kaya or Quaile?”

“I…uh, it sounded like it didn’t happen with
everyone, just some shaman. It didn’t say why some people did and
some didn’t,” I said hurriedly.

“Does it say why it happens at all?”

I hated this. I hated lying to him. “No, not
really.”

“It must mean something,” Uriah said.

I lost my patience. “Did you even hear the
part about me stealing you powers?”

“Yeah, sorry. I guess that didn’t bother me
as much because I already knew that, or at least I supposed that’s
what was happening. I guess I already came to grips with the
idea.”

“Wait, when did you figure out I might be
stealing your power, and why didn’t you mention that when you were
telling me everything else?”

Sheepishly, Uriah turned back to watch the
road. “When I told Kaya about how it hurt to touch you she said it
sounded like you were either stealing my power or negating it,
since I can’t control you or work so well with animals when we
touched. It made sense, even if I didn’t understand why. I always
feel weaker around you, like a part of me is being borrowed, so I
figured she was right about the stealing. And I didn’t tell you
because I didn’t want you to feel bad…or stop touching me.”

A grin flashed across my mouth at that last
part. Stealing his power or not, he would be hard-pressed to get me
to stop touching him. He grinned back, probably thinking about what
almost happened last night like I was.

“Anyway, back to you being a shaman,” Uriah
said after a few minutes. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

With nothing else to counter him with, I
said, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Maybe you were right about me having more
help than I thought.” He smiled at me with such hope it almost
broke my heart. “I’ve got my own personal shaman to help get me
through this fight.”

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” I said,
fear that he wouldn’t be happy about the kind of aid I was supposed
to give him muting my words. “I don’t actually know how to do
anything with whatever power I’m supposed to have.”

“Maybe the book will tell you,” Uriah
offered. “But if not, we can call Kaya. I know she’ll be willing to
help you.”

My insides curdled at the idea. What if Kaya
figured out what Quaile did? What if she told Uriah? This woman
didn’t know me. She would have no reason to keep a secret for me if
she felt Uriah should be told. I wasn’t sure I was desperate enough
to risk it yet.

“Let me try reading a little more. If I don’t
find anything useful I’ll call Kaya later, okay?”

Uriah didn’t seem to understand my
hesitation, but he nodded and changed lanes to get around a slow
moving car. He stayed quiet after that, so I turned my attention
back to the book. Every section of historical knowledge had been
followed by Quaile’s comments, written much later, after Uriah’s
birth. They had been almost as interesting as the centuries old
advice. I dove into Quaile’s words, even more intrigued when I
realized she was talking about me as well.

“Uriah has found himself completely besotted
with Claire Brant. I alone see it for the devastation it truly is.
The girl’s father, Thomas, is an intolerable pain in my side, but
he was the one to inform me of this change. He was beside himself,
fearful that his daughter would become involved in the Qaletaqa’s
path to the Matwau. I was quick to assure him that wasn’t the case,
but still he insisted the two be broken up.