The Man from Forever (21 page)

“He can't be!” Black said fiercely. “He's the last warrior. His people need him.”

 

The last warrior.
Again and again Black's simple and yet honest words echoed inside her. Keeping her fear firmly under control, she concentrated on her goal. Black had last seen Loka heading toward Spirit Mountain; she had no doubt that was his destination because every time she looked at the solitary peak, she felt a powerful pull drawing her closer. But Loka might not have the strength to make it.

Morning was a gentle thing, pastel colors slowly washing over the night until, slowly, the world came into sharp definition. She felt light-headed and lulled by isolation. If others were about this early, they weren't in this area of the vast park. She would have known it if they were. There was only her and Loka—maybe.

“I'm here,” she whispered. “Do you see me? Can you hear me?” She fell silent as she made her way around a sharp, deep lava-defined gully. Once she was back on level ground, she tried to scan the land in all directions, but a mass of bushes blocked her view. More than once she was put in mind of what it had been like for the soldiers as they made their way across what for them was alien land while the Modocs lay in wait for them.

Only, Loka wasn't stalking her. He was, if he was capable, intent on reaching sacred ground.

“Fenton's gone,” she said more to keep herself alert and in control than anything else. “They fired him. He kept talking about you, you and Eagle. He insisted you'd tried to kill him and he'd only shot in self-defense, but Eagle destroyed the evidence. He sounded crazy. When Black and I lied for you, it only made things worse for him.” She tried to conjure
up some sympathy for Fenton but couldn't. The man had shot Loka.

Maybe killed the last warrior.

 

She had no idea how long she'd been walking and searching and talking when Eagle came to her. For a long time, the bird floated high overhead, as if learning all he possibly could about her before coming closer. She tried to keep her eyes on him, but the terrain was so uncertain that she had to keep looking at the ground. When Eagle finally caught a downward draft that brought him within twenty feet of the top of her head, she felt as if she'd passed the greatest test of her life.

“Where is he? Please, I can't let him stay out here alone.”

Eagle's screech sent a chill down her back. Looking up, she caught sight of the talons that made him such a successful bird of prey. “Do you hate me for what happened to him?” she asked. “I don't blame you if you do. I should have told him to leave last night. That way, that way…”

She couldn't lie to either herself or Eagle. If she had it to do all over again, she would still open her arms to Loka. “I'm sorry,” she finally managed. “So sorry. All I want is for him to live. I'll leave. That way he'll never risk his safety again. I promise, once I know he's all right, I'll leave.”

Don't.

Not daring to believe what she'd sensed inside her, she stopped so she could carefully scan her surroundings. Unfortunately, the bushes still grew so close together that she could barely find a path around and through them, let alone know what lay hidden in their midst. Eagle continued to hover over her, his wings fanning her hair and face.
I'm here, Loka. I'm here.

I know.

“Loka! Please!”

As if her plea had been meant for him, Eagle screamed and shot forward a good hundred feet before hovering over a scraggly pine that had somehow found a foothold in the
rocks. She started running. An exposed root and then a jumble of lava slowed her, but she finally reached the pine. Shading her eyes, she stared at the trunk.

Loka. Motionless.

T
ory didn't remember running to Loka or kneeling beside him. All that mattered was that she could touch him, speak to him—learn if he was still alive.

“Please,” she whispered over and over again. The word sounded tortured, and yet she couldn't change it. She gently ran her hands over every inch of him. Although the feel of damp blood along his side made her shudder, she didn't pull back. “Loka. Loka, please, can you hear me?”

“Tory.”

Hearing her name coming from his lips brought her to the brink of sanity, but she didn't dare break down. “I'm here. Eagle showed me the way.”

“Blaiwas.”

“Yes.
Blaiwas.
” She bent over him as if covering his body with hers could heal him. It didn't seem possible that he could have traveled this far, but she should know not to judge him by ordinary men's standards. Black had called him the last warrior. How fit, how right that was.

She wanted to look up to see if Eagle—
Blaiwas
—was still
here but couldn't tear her eyes off Loka. Because he was under a tree and dawn hadn't yet made its impact here, she couldn't tell whether he was clear-eyed. His voice sounded weak, but maybe that was only her fear. “I want to help you. Cho-ocks and Kiuka can't reach you. You have to rely on me. There's—you know there's no one else.”

“You came.” His voice held a note of wonder. When he lifted his arm so he could run his fingers over her throat and the swell of her breast, they felt familiar and strong.

“Did you think I wouldn't?”

“I did not know.”

Nothing could have hurt her more. Surely he knew he meant more than anything else in her life. She couldn't leave here, couldn't go on living if he died. “You trust me that little?”

“No. You do not understand. I know what lives inside you, Tory.” He pressed his hand flat against her breast to cover her heart. “Maybe I was born knowing that. But…” His hand slipped away to drop limply by his side.

Terrified that he'd lost consciousness, or worse, she brought the back of her hand close to his nostrils so she could feel his warm breath. “I live, Tory,” he said.

Thank God.
“You need help. A doctor, hospital.” She stopped as she struggled to think of a way of explaining what she was talking about. The thought of bringing him to a hospital almost made her sick because once he was there, there might be no way of keeping the truth about him secret. Still she would risk it if that was the only way he would survive. “I can't get you there by myself,” she explained needlessly. “But Black—he's the Modoc—I know he'd help.”

“No.”

“He won't betray you, Loka. He believes in you. He understands.”

“No.”

“Listen to me, please.” She might be wearing him out by insisting on this argument, but he could have a bullet buried
in him. He had to have lost a lot of blood. “He's a wonderful man. He knows about Wa'hash.”

“Wa'hash?” Loka turned his head just enough that dawn bathed his features and revealed a look of wonder in his eyes.

“Yes.” She fairly shouted the word. “Stories about its existence have been passed down through generations of Modocs. He says that no one else knows about it, that no Modoc has ever betrayed their heritage.”

When Loka said nothing, she quickly told him that Fenton had been fired and that Eagle had made sure no evidence of his having been shot remained. “Black and I will take you to the hospital. You don't have to say anything. We'll think up something, tell them some story so no one will discover who and what you are.” Even as she spoke, she searched frantically for a way of getting Black here without leaving Loka alone. Maybe Eagle—

“No hospital.”

“You don't understand,” she protested. “They have modern medicine men there, people who will make sure you get well.”

“No hospital.”

He said that with such a note of finality that she gave up. If she pressed the issue, he might leave her, and the thought of him out there alone and wounded was more than she could stand. Besides, the moment hospital personnel learned he'd been shot, the police would become involved. They'd ask questions, demand… “All right,” she whispered. “We'll stay here. Maybe—we have no choice. Loka, I don't know how to treat you. If the bullet's still in there—”

“No bullet.”

Instead of telling her how he knew that, he rolled over onto his good side and pushed himself into a sitting position. Much as she wanted to help him, she understood how deep his pride ran. Once he'd steadied himself, he took her hand and showed her where the bullet had exited. She hated touching him. Still, sensing that what he was letting her do said a great deal about trust, she carefully, gently examined his in
jury. What frightened her the most was that he continued to bleed.

“Let Black look at you, at least. Maybe he knows a Modoc with medical training. They can take you someplace safe.”

“No. Tory, no.”

She didn't want to look into his eyes, didn't want to see his determination and fierce pride, but she had no choice. Instead, what she found was a look of peace running through his entire body. “Listen to me,” he said. “I belong here.” He indicated their surroundings. “This land knows me and I know it. If I am to die, this is where it must be.”

“I can't let you die,” she moaned as tears heated her cheeks. “Without you—Loka, please.”

She wanted to force him to continue to look at her so he would understand how desperate she was, but he turned his attention to Spirit Mountain. “I must go there,” he told her with more strength than she'd heard since they began talking.

“You aren't strong enough. You tried—I know how hard you tried.”

As if to make a lie of her words, he forced himself onto his knees. He tried to stand, and when he fell back, she placed his arm around her shoulder so they could get to their feet together. The tears she thought she'd never be able to stop cooled on her cheeks as she concentrated on taking the first step.

Loka was going home. Today nothing else mattered.

 

Two hours later, so tired that her legs trembled, Tory stared at the sunlit peak ahead of them. They'd covered more than half of the distance between where she'd found him and the mountain's base, but it had been at an awful price. Loka dripped sweat and had to stop and rest every few minutes. His deeply tanned features had bleached a frightening white. She would have given anything for more water, but he'd already drunk her canteen dry. The bandages she'd wrapped around his side had slowed the bleeding, but he'd lost a lot during the night, maybe more than he needed for survival.
The thought of infection worried her nearly as much. He stumbled too many times and wouldn't have been able to continue if she hadn't been there to support him. Whenever she looked into his eyes, they seemed glazed. She wasn't sure he was aware of her presence. His gaze never left Spirit Mountain.

Loka hadn't spoken for so long that she'd almost become accustomed to the silence, except it wasn't silence because he labored with each breath and his heart beat so loudly that she was afraid it would break.

He stopped, leaned on her. Used to his need for frequent rests, she broadened her stance in an attempt to support his weight. He wasn't the only one who was played out, but she was determined to be as strong as humanly possibly for him; it might be the only thing she could give him. “Loka, please, rest for a while. I'll try to find some water.”

“No water. Done.”

Done.
Terrified, she turned slightly so she could look up at him. Pain and exhaustion etched his features. She expected to find defeat in his eyes and struggled to steel herself for that. Instead, he looked as if he'd turned in upon himself, was trying to get in touch with a part of himself she couldn't fathom. Taking a deep and shuddering breath, he pushed away from her. Although he swayed, he managed to stand straight and tall, his arms lifted toward the sky. The sight of his injured and yet proud body took away her own breath and made her forget her thirst, even her fear for his life. Silhouetted against his world, he seemed such a part of it that she couldn't begin to separate the two.

He started chanting, and with each word his voice grew stronger. The sounds were both harsh and hypnotic. She wanted to join him in his song, but he was Maklaks and her ancestor had helped end his way of life. Maybe she'd been wrong to come to him; maybe her presence would keep who or whatever he was trying to call from coming to him.

Made sick by the thought, she forced herself to step back from him. He didn't seem aware of what she'd done. The
sounds and syllables of his childhood echoed around her until she could no longer hear the birds and other creatures that shared the wilderness with them. Feeling more alone than she ever had, she could do nothing but watch.

Every few seconds a shudder coursed through his body. The rest of the time he remained motionless. He'd somehow summoned enough strength to keep his arms reaching for the sky. The lines of his body looked as strong, as magnificent as they'd always been. As long as she didn't look at his side or take note of his bloodless face, she could believe he would live forever.

That nothing, or no one, would ever touch him.

Time lost all meaning. She sensed the sun on the back of her neck. Thirst made it nearly impossible for her to swallow and yet she couldn't put her mind to that, either. She felt as if she now existed outside of her own body. Nothing mattered except him.

Alone. With a start she realized that although he'd been calling for someone or something, it was still only the two of them. Eagle had guided her to his side, but after that was done, Loka's spirit had left him. He must be calling for Eagle now. Why wouldn't the creature come?

When Loka's arms dropped by his side, she feared his thoughts paralleled hers. She wanted to walk over to him so she could offer him her love and strength, but even as she fought a terrible battle with herself, she knew her love wasn't enough. Loka wasn't an ordinary man. His life had always been guided by forces she was just beginning to understand. Without those forces, without proof that what he believed in existed, he might lose hope. And without hope, he wouldn't have the will to fight his injury.

He would die out here.

To her horror, he sank to his knees. He still looked out at Spirit Mountain, his gaze so fixed and intent that she knew nothing else existed for him. He continued to chant, his voice that of a man who'd been gravely wounded. Unable to stop herself, she stumbled over to him and dropped beside him.
She tried to wrap her arms around him, but his body remained stiff and unresponsive. She felt the words he kept saying rumble inside him and wondered if he would continue to chant until life seeped out of him. Head pounding, she stared fixedly at Spirit Mountain.

Listen to him. Eagle! Kumookumts! Hear him! Help him.

His voice slowly became a whisper. One hand clutched his knife. The other lay limp at his side. Sweat poured off him. For a moment she thought he'd begun a rocking motion, but that was only until she forced herself to face the truth. He was shaking from exhaustion.

Eagle! Kumookumts! He's the only one who still believes in you. Understands you. Without him…

Once before she'd echoed Loka's prayers. She did it again, not thinking about how to form the sounds. Nothing mattered except that he not die, that Eagle and Wolf and Kumookumts and Kiuka and the others who'd been here for him and his people heard him today. Eyes closed, holding him, she imagined Eagle floating into view. She thought, briefly, of the feathers in her hair, but in order to touch them, she would have to let go of Loka, and she wouldn't do that.

Eagle. You gave names to all other animals, answered Loka's prayer for a guardian spirit. He needs you, needs you as you have never been needed. Bear, your intelligence is that of humans. Think of him, understand him. Help him. Wolf, you came to us before. Do not desert him now.

She remained lost in her thoughts while her mouth and tongue formed sounds that made no sense and yet felt as if they lived and breathed inside her. Finally she became aware that Loka had fallen silent.

Opening her eyes, she stared at him. His own eyes were half-closed, unfocused. His head sagged. After a moment he lifted it, but she wasn't sure whether he could see Spirit Mountain. Calling on strength she didn't know she had, she helped him lie down. Even at rest, he looked like what he was: a warrior.

Eagle. Please…

Unable to continue her thought, she bent over Loka and covered his mouth with hers. He returned her kiss but didn't lift his arms to embrace her. His breathing was no less labored.

Eagle! He needs you. We need you.

Even as she sheltered Loka's body with hers, she became aware of a presence behind her. Terrified that someone had found them and praying that Black had followed her, she straightened and turned. Her hands remained on Loka's chest.

There was no one. But the sensation of being watched continued. She concentrated on giving her surroundings a thorough look. Belatedly, she realized that the presence came not from the ground but from the air.

Eagle.

“Loka,” she whispered. “He's here. Can you see him? He's…” Horror washed through her when she saw that Loka's eyes were closed. His breathing had slowed. It seemed to her that he was sinking into the earth, becoming part of it. “No! Don't die! You can't! You—”

Eagle's cry shattered the words she hadn't wanted to say. Her attention again drawn to the bird, she watched it make circle after circle above them. Mesmerized by its graceful movements, she closed her mind to everything else for as long as she could. Finally though, she was forced to ask herself if Eagle had delayed its appearance because it was incapable of miracles and hadn't wanted to see Loka die.