The Man from Forever (19 page)

Later. Right now—

Yet another drawing caught her attention. This one was situated so that a little of the sunlight coming in through the
slit in the ceiling touched it. Looking at it, she made out an elaborately decorated figure—obviously a shaman—standing over a prone figure. The shaman held two objects over the figure's body. The patient, if that was who he was, seemed to be opening his eyes. “The shaman is healing him, isn't he?” she asked when she realized Loka had joined her. “At least he's trying to.”

Loka pointed at the two objects. “Sacred Eagle feathers.”

“Did they work?”

“Yes, if the patient was a believer.”

Loka was a believer. She heard that in his voice, only had to look at him to understand that.

“Oh, Loka! This is—” Words failed her. Overwhelmed, she gripped his shoulders and gazed up at him. His face was cast in shadows, but she could still see life dancing in his eyes. That and something else. “Thank you. Thank you. It's here—all of it. History. Richness. More—more than we've ever known about any Indian tribe. To know for certain that they lived their lives in certain ways, that their religious beliefs ran through the entire fabric of their existence, to understand the truth about Kumookumts and the first shaman…” Feeling as if she might fly off into a thousand pieces, she held on to Loka even more firmly than she had earlier. “This changes everything. Turns theory and speculation into, into…”

“Changes?”

“Yes. Once people understand—”

“No!”

 

He'd been wrong. A fool. How could he have been blind to what she was? Grizzly's warning—why hadn't he heeded him?

Tory struggled in his grip, but Loka didn't stop dragging her toward the tunnel opening. Even when she begged him to say something, he remained silent because there were no words for what he felt. What he feared.

What was that she called herself, an anthropologist? She'd
told him enough that he knew it was her task to drag the past out of its resting place and expose it to the brightest lights.

“You can't keep this to yourself!” she gasped when he tried to push her up the ladder. “Loka, it isn't right. To keep everything buried under the ground—Loka, there are so many lessons in the past. So much that was good and right. Like putting one's trust in an eagle and spending your life knowing that eagle will protect you. Kiuka. Loka, I felt something of him. It—”

“Eagle is mine.”

“No.” She tried to wrench free. He released her because he was afraid he would hurt her if they struggled. “No, not just yours. Loka.” She raked her fingers through the mass of her hair. “Eagle guards your life. I can't believe I'm saying this, only it's true. Eagle guides you. Enriches you. And Kiuka and Kumookumts…There are so many people, good people, who deserve—”

“No.”

“I know. I know. I promised I wouldn't say anything about Wa'hash, but that was before I saw. The richness—I can't keep this to myself. I can't.”

He couldn't listen to this. Maybe he was alive because he'd been entrusted with safekeeping everything the Maklaks had once been. He'd broken the most sacred of trusts because he'd allowed a woman—an enemy woman—into his world. Under his skin. The danger she represented must end today. It must! Wa'hash was his people's legacy. The past. Not hers to exploit.

Acting on instinct, he lunged. Although she tried to flee, he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to his side. Then, mindless to her flailing arms and legs, he threw her over his shoulder and hauled both of them up to the surface. Setting her on her feet, he stepped away and drew his knife.

She stared, not at his weapon, but into his eyes. Her look weakened him, took him back to lovemaking, of having her
to sleep beside. To her look of awe as she stood on the top of Spirit Mountain and looked out at his world.

She had found a home in his heart, and he couldn't silence her.

S
tumbling with nearly every step, Tory headed toward where she'd left her car. Although the sun beat down around her, warning of a day approaching one hundred degrees, she couldn't put her mind to the folly of staying out here without water.

The rage in Loka's eyes—no, not rage really. No matter how many times she forced herself to go over their last few moments together, she didn't understand his emotions. Or maybe the truth was, she understood them all too well and was unable to make herself face hard reality.

The Modoc warrior had been a man of violence. He'd endured a war, seen his ancestors' land torn apart by rifle-bearing strangers. He hadn't known enough of gentleness, had no reason to trust anyone. Despite his desire to find his place in the present, he didn't know how. Because of those things, he'd wanted to silence her, permanently, when she blurted that she wanted the world to know about his people's rich and beautiful past.

Something had stopped him, something that had every
thing to do with what they were, or had been, to each other. Instead of plunging his knife into her and ending the threat she represented, he'd stalked away from her. Left her alone in this lonely land.

Would she ever see him again?

Did anything else matter?

Facing the awful reality that she might have killed whatever had begun between them made it impossible for her to concentrate on where she was going, and she had to trust her instinct to return her to Fern Cave. She kept looking around, hoping to see Loka, and when that didn't happen, she scanned the sky for a glimpse of Eagle. Her ears were tuned to the sound of Wolf's howl. Even if she heard an owl or coyote, she would have welcomed that, since any sign, even one that warned of danger, would have meant she was being touched by the same forces that ruled Loka's life.

This was his world, his domain. How could she have been so presumptuous to declare she had a right to share it with others?

But if no one knew of Loka's heritage, it would die with him.

The argument swirled inside her, preventing her from listening to what her heart might be trying to tell her. Whenever the possibility that she might never see Loka again intruded, she cast it away because to acknowledge it might destroy her. Instead, she placed one foot after another and struggled to find a way to blend what might be irreconcilable.

When she first felt the prickling at the base of her spine, she prayed it meant Loka had decided to return to her, but when she concentrated on her reaction, she knew it hadn't been caused by the man who'd taken her body, and heart. Someone else was watching her.

Looking around, she glimpsed a shaft of light that came from the sun glinting off something ahead of her. Cold anger mixed with a deep sense of apprehension when she realized she was looking at a man holding a pair of binoculars. How long had Fenton been watching her?

By the time she came close enough that they could carry on a conversation, she'd forced her fear to the back of her mind. Although she wanted to insist he leave her alone, she knew that would only increase his interest—as if it weren't high enough already. She and Loka had been out of range of his binoculars when they'd emerged from Wa'hash, but if Loka had inadvertently come within sight of Fenton—

Silent, she waited for Fenton to speak. It seemed incredible that she'd seen him only a few hours ago. So much had happened since then—discovery and loss.

“You do get around,” Fenton said. He made no attempt to hide the fact that his binoculars had been trained on her.

“So do you.”

“True.” A slight smile touched his lips. “You think I had no business telling that old Modoc that you were related to Canby, don't you?”

Whatever Fenton was fishing for, she had no intention of going after the bait. Shrugging, she reached into her back pocket for her car keys. However, any hope she had of getting away from him died when he placed himself between her and her car. She realized she hadn't heard his vehicle approaching, which meant he must have come while she was too far away to have caught the sound. If he'd followed her out here today—

“I thought you had your hands full getting ready for the senator's visit.”

“I'm busy enough. But not so busy that I'm unaware of other things.”

What did he mean by that? But if she acted too curious, that would only feed his overactive imagination. Pretending a disinterest she was far from feeling, she wiped the back of her hand over her forehead and said something about how hot it was. Fenton agreed.

“I don't suppose you want to tell me what you're doing out here?” he said after a silence that felt laced with tension and danger.

“What are you talking about?”

“About why someone who has already been given the grand tour of Fern Cave would come out here again when she knows she can't get in on her own.”

“You're letting your imagination run away with you, Fenton. Look, why don't we both lay our cards on the table? You want to wrangle an introduction to Dr. Grossnickle through me, don't you? In fact, you're thinking that knowing me might lead to working for the Alsea project in some capacity.” When he didn't say anything, she planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I don't have that kind of pull. Neither does Dr. Grossnickle. Both of us are university employees. If you want to be part of things, you need to talk to them. I wish I could help you but—”

“Not anymore, Tory.”

“What?”

“I'm no longer interested in Alsea because something much better is happening here.”

Fear raced through her, numbed her to what she should say or do next.

Fenton held up his binoculars, taunted her with them really. “I'm no fool, Tory. Almost from the first I didn't buy your excuses for staying here. There's something else going on.”

“Is there?”

“Yeah. Something, or someone.”

Her throat constricted, leaving her incapable of speaking. “Let me tell you what I saw today,” Fenton went on. “I followed you. I'm not going to deny that. After some of the other things I've seen you doing, I'd be a fool not to keep my eyes and ears peeled.” He held the binoculars up to his eyes and made a show of focusing on something in the distance.

“What did you see?” she asked. The time for evading and avoiding had ended. She needed to learn everything she possibly could.

“You. You weren't there for the longest time. I searched. Believe me, I stared through those damn things until I thought I was going to go blind. I almost turned around and left, but
I didn't because you had to be somewhere, and I was going to find out where or die trying.”

Find out where she'd been?
Just the thought of Fenton stumbling across Wa'hash made her sick. “I hope the senator will understand why you weren't attending to business.” She shouldn't taunt him, but the man had pushed her against a wall and striking out came instinctively.

“Oh, I think he's going to be delighted—if I decide to let him in on this. Let me tell you who I did see while I was waiting for you to appear.”

No! No!

“A naked man, nearly naked anyway. That ‘ghost' that people keep talking about, the one that's got Black so stirred up. He was pretty damn far away. Even with these—” he indicated his binoculars “—he wasn't much more than a speck. But he was there. He was!”

No!

“You've got nothing to say, Tory?” His superior smirk spread over his face until she itched to rip it away. “Yeah, well, maybe you don't. What is it? Who is he?”

He didn't know, not really. Not yet.
Carefully monitoring her every movement, she cocked her head slightly to one side. She could only pray he'd buy her casual stance and not sense the turmoil she felt inside. “Not much more than a speck, did you say? Are you sure you're not letting your imagination get out of control?”

“No!” Fenton insisted. Still, she thought she caught a little doubt in his eyes. “There's got to be something to all these ghost rumors. There's just got to be.”

“Ghosts? Come on, Fenton.”

“Don't give me that! You've been all over this place, jeopardizing your job, acting—acting mighty strange.”

He didn't know anything for sure. She had to remember that, build on his uncertainty. But how? “What do you mean by strange? Just because I like to spend time out here by myself? Look, I've had some pretty intense dealings with people lately. A lot of pressure. I needed some R and R.”

“I don't buy it.”

Fenton reminded her too much of a bulldog. “I can't help that.” In an effort to let him know she'd grown tired of this conversation, she made a show of playing with her car keys. “What are you going to do? Tell either Dr. Grossnickle or the senator that I've been off communicating with some, some what?”

Uncertainty again flickered in Fenton's eyes. A moment later, it was gone, replaced by rigid determination and anger. “You think I'm going to make a fool of myself, don't you? At least that's what you're hoping. But how do you explain why you spent the night on Schonchin Butte—without so much as a sleeping bag or flashlight? You weren't alone. Damn it, you weren't alone!”

He doesn't know. Don't forget—he's fishing.
“Wasn't I?”

“No, damn it. Something's happening around here. Something that can't be explained. But he exists. I saw him today.”

“He?”

“Yeah.” A frown flickered across his features. “Maybe he's some deranged joker, but I don't think so. You wouldn't be looking and acting the way you are if he was just some nut case.”

“And how am I looking and acting?” she asked, although that was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Like someone who's seen a ghost. Like a woman with a lover.”

 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Part of it was, Tory knew, because she'd spent too much time out in the sun. But that wasn't all of it, not by a long shot.
Like someone who's seen a ghost. Like a woman with a lover.
Fenton was still trying to find the pieces of the puzzle; she didn't dare ever forget that. But his curiosity, his determination to get to the truth of things, seemed to know no bounds. Now that he'd actually glimpsed Loka, he wouldn't quit until he had proof of his existence that he could take to the press, that he could exploit.

Unless—

For the first time since she'd returned to her cabin, Tory faced up to what she was doing. Although it had taken her from late afternoon until dark to make the hard decision, she'd finally finished packing her duffel bag. She was ready to leave.

She had to. It was the only way she could ensure Loka's safety.

Heart hurting, she walked over to the nearest window and stared out at the just-emerging moon. It seemed to have been waiting for her before spreading its soft silver light over The Smiles Of God.

She loved this land. Without her knowing how it had happened, it had found a home deep inside her. Lonely and desolate to those who didn't understand its magic, it appealed to her in a way no other place ever had. In so many ways, the lava beds had never left that harsh winter of 1873. Yes, there was the park headquarters with its easy communication with the rest of the world, but as soon as she left that, the past reached out to absorb her. To enrich her.

And maybe the truth was, the spell had been cast by Loka, Eagle, Wolf, Grizzly, Kumookumts and Kiuka.

How could she leave?

Because she didn't dare stay. Because that was the only way she could hope to protect Loka.

Loka, who was more important than Wa'hash.

She tried to turn away so she wouldn't have to look at the moon and the world painted by it, but she couldn't. She loved her parents, deeply respected Dr. Grossnickle, was grateful for good friendships, had thought herself in love a few times in her life. But nothing had ever felt like this.

Loka
was
her life. Savage and primitive, wise beyond her comprehension. Part of this land, the essence of Native American spirituality.

Their hearts had touched, blended, and because of that, she'd been able to step into his world. She'd seen Eagle and heard Wolf. Sensed what of himself Kiuka had left behind.
Learned of Kumookumts's power and wisdom. Fallen in love.

And now she had to leave.

Despite her awful resolve, several more minutes passed before she forced herself to turn from the window. Spotting the two eagle feathers still on her bed, she wove them into her hair, crying a little at the memory of how they'd gotten into her possession. While she was packing, she hadn't allowed herself to think about where Loka might be tonight. Now she did. If he'd changed his mind about not putting an end to the threat she represented, he might be waiting outside right now. Still, she couldn't believe that.

For at least the fourth time, she reached for the bag that held her scant possessions. Then she looked around, trying to imagine Loka in here. He'd indicated little interest in the cabin's interior, making her guess he'd explored it while it lay empty and found little to interest him. Still, she'd like to show him some of the improvements in housing that had become commonplace since his time. The idea of taking him to a city boggled her mind. She tried to imagine him walking down a street flanked by skyscrapers, stepping into an elevator, riding in a car, but the images only made her shudder.

You belong here where the wind blows and carries the scent of sage. Where Eagle can always find you and you can reach out to him. It's lonely—oh, Loka, I know how lonely you are. But you're safe here.

Refusing to give in to the tears she knew would incapacitate her, she opened the door and stepped outside. The wilderness surrounded her. From here, she couldn't see so much as a single man-made light. The moon was full, giving her an accurate if muted view of the trail leading to civilization. She could have turned on a flashlight, but she needed this final experience—these last minutes alone in Loka's world.