Obsidian Tears (Apparition Lake Book 2) Read online

  Glenn smiled past gritted teeth. “Only hurts when I laugh.”

  “Chief Merrill,” Frowning Fred asked, “you are recovering?”

  “I am. Thanks to you. And thanks to Monty.”

  Fred's eyes threatened to mist over. “Some of the Nuwa lost a chief in the battle of Legend Rock. Some did not. It depends upon their point of view.” Fred shook his head. “Everybody lost Monty.”

  “Do not mourn,” Two Ravens said. “Life ends when time demands. The loss should be mourned only if the life was wasted.”

  Fred shook hands with them all, then returned to the celebration, leaving Glenn to Lew, Two Ravens, and his junior rangers. “JD came to see me,” Glenn told them. “In the hospital.”

  “Who's JD?” Lew asked, butting in.

  “A bear biologist,” Glenn told her.

  “An old friend,” Two Ravens added.

  “She just returned from vacation,” the ranger told the outfitter. “She was boiling that she missed… Well, she called it our new adventure.”

  Two Ravens smiled as only he could smile. “Then you'll have to tell me later. No negative emotions here tonight.” Two Ravens welcomed them all officially and invited them onto the grounds. “You are all honored guests.”

  “It's our honor,” Glenn said. “Not to change the subject but… where's Abeque?”

  Two Ravens smiled but was interrupted before he could answer by another 'official' Yellowstone vehicle, this one a shiny SUV, that appeared on the road and parked across from Glenn's truck. The park superintendent was at the wheel with Natasha Balasan along. Both sat, staring first at Glenn, Two Ravens, and company, then past them to the distant celebration. Their eyes popped when they took in the latter and their mouths fell open. They shared a word between them, then Stanton climbed out.

  Pence and Maltby came to attention, Lew gave the superintendent a quick smile, Glenn offered his boss a blank stare. The best Two Ravens could manage was a frown. “I'll handle this,” Glenn said, and started across the road. Two Ravens and Lew, unwilling to miss it, followed closely. The junior rangers, knowing where their bread was buttered, held their ground.

  “You did a good job, Glenn,” Stanton said, shaking the ranger's hand. Glenn nodded, biting his lip, and returning as much of the shake as he could. Stanton didn't notice. He'd moved on to nod at Two Ravens and was now smiling at Lew. “You all did a good job. We, Natasha and I,” He indicated the museum curator in the car. “We agreed. We wanted to thank you all. And pass on our respects.”

  Glenn nodded curtly. “Thanks. But, you know of course, this cannot be completed by us.” He took Stanton by the arm and led him several steps away, whispering, “Old buddy, I don't need to tell you that Natasha did nothing but make things worse. And you assisted only by turning a blind eye, and then, only under duress. You know me, I don't hold grudges. But this gathering is by invitation only.”

  “This is crap!” Stanton exclaimed, indignant and shouting, but in a whisper. “You did the same thing to me at Dry Cottonwood Creek after– You know when!”

  “I do,” Glenn said, breathlessly. “Your presence here, now, is more intrusive then it was then. You are not wanted here. Neither is Madame Curator. Shall I tell her? Or will you explain this is an Indian matter and that you can best show your respect by honoring their request?”

  Behind Glenn and his outriders, the field was in motion. The drums had kicked into high gear and the War Dance was on. Conversation was about to become impossible and it was just as well as it was clearly the wrong place for a scene. Lew butted in to rescue the situation.

  “Michael,” she said, coming forward. “This is historic. These people have done what few do; overcome themselves for a greater good. I would like to remember it as a moment where you showed the same courage and selflessness.”

  They could see Stanton thinking. His scowl vanished and he smiled like he was looking for votes. He nodded his understanding. “Just wanted to thank you all.” He leaned to Lew and whispered, “You owe me an earthquake.”

  “You'll love it,” the seismologist said with a smile. “There's nothing like feeling the Earth move.”

  Stanton reddened and squeezed Lew's hand. “Pass on our respects.” He had a word with Natasha and they were soon headed down the road. Glenn turned and, with Two Ravens and Lew at his arms, and Pence and Maltby ignoring their bosses' infirmity, started slowly for the tribal gathering.

  The celebration went into the night, food, music, stories of battle, and endless dancing; the Grass Dance, the Traditional Dance. Women of every Basin nation got into the act with high-pitched cries and brilliant colors as they swung and swooped in their shawls, then jingled victory in a most incredible Healing Dance. Twice more, during the evening, Glenn asked Two Ravens where Abeque was. Twice more he evaded the question.

  Then the drums died down. A piper blew several notes that hung in the air. A low murmur passed through the crowd as they shuffled to the side giving way to one of the lodges. A driving drum beat began.

  Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum. Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum.

  A thrill climbed Glenn's spine. “Abeque?” he asked in a whisper.

  Two Ravens nodded. “She comes.”

  The door on one of the lodges came open and two women emerged, Bly, the small gatekeeper and sole survivor of the Slough Creek massacre, wearing her drab yellow ghost shirt with its painted symbols of running water and, beside her, Abeque in her blue dyed buckskin with its painted birds in flight. Both were radiant with dangling feathers at their ears. They took the field, moving together.

  Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum. Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum.

  They lifted their hands to the sky together, chanting, “Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih. Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih.”

  Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum. Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum.

  “Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih. Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih.”

  They moved slowly, like a backbeat to the driving rhythm of the drums, in the seven directions of the dance's circle, first north… then east… west… then south… up… then down. Then turned to each other – symbolically 'within' where the spirits of their ancestors, the spirits of those just lost in a great battle, could be found.

  Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum. Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum.

  “Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih. Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih.”

  Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum. Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum.

  “Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih. Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih.”

  Two Ravens watched, his heart racing. It was the same Ghost Dancer but not the same at all. Alice was dead and gone, reborn as Abeque, a proud Cheyenne princess, a humble Arapaho healer, the woman he loved.

  Glenn watched, his mind racing. It was the same Ghost Dance but not the same at all. The anger was dead, the bitterness gone, reborn as a celebration of the Native American past and a promise to their ancestors – not that the Indian Nations would rise up, destroy the whites, and reclaim the land – but that the Indian spirit would never die or be defeated.

  The others joined in, women, children, braves, and holy men; one Indian after another from one tribe after another, until there were dozens, then a hundred, and then hundreds; an expanding circle, then circles within circles, the whole reservation of Shoshone and Arapaho natives and all of their guests. Two Ravens stepped forward, took Abeque's hand, and joined a Ghost Dance as it had never been danced on Earth before.

  Glenn, Lew, and the rangers stood outside, watching the dance build, watching the circles grow, in awe. Then came another first. Abeque let go of Two Ravens' hand, turned to their white guests outside of the circle, and waved them to join in. Hesitating only a nervous second, with no thought to his ribs, the chief ranger started forward. The seismologist did the same. Pence and Maltby followed suit. Pence took the hand of a lovely Ute maiden, leaving Maltby the hand of the Arapaho warrior Ethete. He was a rookie after all. Abeque took Glenn's free hand and Two Ravens took Lew's.

  Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum. Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum Ba Bum.

  “
Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih. Hy-iy-yih-yih-yih.”

  The dance of the victorious Indian Nations, and their adopted brothers, honored their ancestors into the night. Two Ravens had been right. It really was something to see.

  “…and the whole Earth will become one circle again. In that day, there will be those who will carry knowledge and understanding of unity among all living things and the young white ones will come to those of my people and ask for this wisdom. I salute the light within your eyes where the whole Universe dwells. For when you are at that center within you and I am at that place within me, we shall be one.” - Crazy Horse, 1877

  About the Authors

  Daniel D. Lamoreux is an outdoor writer and freelance photographer with over 350 articles and columns, and nearly as many photographs, in more than 40 state, regional, and national publications. His online magazine can be found at OnStand.net. Dan is the founder and CEO of Master Hunter Products, MasterHunters.com, and is on a mission to provide information, education, and entertainment products to fishermen, hunters, outdoor enthusiasts and the industry that provides for their needs. His expertise in the wild has been developed during over 40 years of pursuing the outdoor sports. He lives, plays, and works in the mountains of northwest Wyoming.

  Doug Lamoreux is a father of three, a grandfather, a writer, and actor. A former professional fire fighter, he is the author of seven novels and a contributor to anthologies and non-fiction works including the Rondo Award nominated Horror 101, and its companion, the Rondo Award winning Hidden Horror. He has been nominated for a Rondo, a Lord Ruthven Award, a Pushcart Prize, and is the first-ever recipient of The Horror Society's Igor Award for fiction. Lamoreux starred in the 2006 Peter O'Keefe film, Infidel, and appeared in the Mark Anthony Vadik horror films The Thirsting (aka Lilith) and Hag.

  Other books by the Authors:

  Daniel D. Lamoreux

  The Fireside Collection

  Apparition Lake

  Doug Lamoreux

  The Devil's Bed

  Dracula's Demeter

  The Melting Dead

  Corpses Say the Darndest Things: A Nod Blake Mystery

  Apparition Lake

  When the Tik-Tik Sings

  Dear reader,

  Thank you for taking time to read Obsidian Tears. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author's best friend and much appreciated.