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When the person remained still, Silver Thorn crept close and knelt beside him. Alert to a possible trap, Silver Thorn clasped one thin shoulder and quickly rolled the stranger onto his back. Silver Thorn’s eyes widened in surprise as he immediately realized his mistake. Despite the manner of dress, this was no man, small or otherwise. The twin bulges beneath the shirt proclaimed the body as irrefutably that of a female. Ebony tresses framed a pale, delicately boned face with full red lips and long, lush lashes.
Had Silver Thorn harbored any further doubts about her gender, the writing on her shirt and the accompanying picture would have eliminated them. In bold letters, it said, “It’s fine for a woman to put a man first, if the view from behind is worthwhile.” The painting depicted a man, facing away from the viewer, bare to the waist and wearing a tight pair of trousers similar to those Nike wore.
He puzzled over this. Though he was further bemused that the spirits should send a white woman to impart the future to him, the mystical pendant lying in her limp fingers gave proof that she was the Conjured One. Retrieving the charm, he looped it about his own neck. As his fingers pressed against her throat, seeking and finding a pulse, he called to her to awaken. The woman moaned. Her eyelids fluttered open, and Silver Thorn caught a glimpse of eyes the color of the inner rim of a rainbow—the same purple hue of dawn’s shadows, when the sky first welcomes the rays of the rising sun.
Nikki awoke to the sound of a deep male voice calling her name. With her eyes still closed, she was sure she’d never met this person and wondered how he could know her, for he spoke her name in accented English, pronouncing it “nay-ah-kay.” Cautiously, lest she become dizzy again, she forced her eyes slowly open and found herself lying on her back, looking directly at the gleaming medallion, which now dangled from about the man’s neck—a deeply tanned neck that matched a broad bare chest hovering closely above her.
“What . . . what happened? What’s going on here?” she blurted out, her weak attempt at bravado emerging as more of a frightened squawk. Not sure if he intended to help or harm her, she scooted hastily away from him, far enough to lever herself into a sitting position. The abrupt movement sent her head spinning, and it was a moment more before she dared raise her wary gaze to his face.
What she saw there did nothing to quell her unease. His face was as bronze as the rest of him appeared to be, the features even and bold, framed by sleek black hair that brushed the tops of his shoulders. This she noted almost in passing, for his eyes immediately snagged her attention and held it. They were a shimmering silver, like twin flashes of lightning, and so compelling in their intensity that she had the eerie feeling that he could see into her very soul.
She shivered slightly and swayed backward. Immediately, his hand closed about her arm—whether to steady her or to keep her from fleeing, she did not know. Despite herself, she could not contain the frightened gasp that escaped her lips.
“Do not fear me, little one,” he crooned in a foreign, formal way. “I intend you no harm, for it is I who have brought you here.”
“Who . . . who are you? How do you know my name?” she gasped, her eyes wide with apprehension.
“It is written on your moccasins,” he replied. On a curious note, he added, “Do the women of the Shemanese have a need to proclaim their identity to all or do your men require it of you?”
“I’m American, not Sheman-whatever,” she corrected, puzzled by his strange manner of speaking. “Who are you? And what do you mean, you brought me here? I came to the park myself.” A quick, careful glance revealed, much to her relief, that she was still sitting near the stream, right where she’d fallen.
“In Shawnee, I am called Mona Kahwee. In your tongue, you would say Silver Thorn. Can you rise now, without becoming faint again?”
Only now, as he helped her to her feet, did Nikki notice that his mode of dress was as odd as his speech. That wasn’t a pair of tan shorts he was wearing—it was a buckskin breechcloth that matched the moccasins on his feet! Disoriented, she struggled to sort it all out in her mind. At last her brain caught on a logical explanation, and she released a shaky laugh.
“Oh, I see now!” she exclaimed softly. “You’re a member of the Tecumseh cast, aren’t you? Still in costume and practicing your role, I suppose. I saw the performance last night, and it really was very good. I could almost believe I was back in Tecumseh’s time.”
“I know nothing of this performance you speak of, but you are, in fact, in Tecumseh’s time and mine,” he informed her seriously. He cast a dubious eye over her small frame and shook his head. “I summoned you here, from the future, though it was my hope to recall a man, perhaps one of some prominence and intelligence—not a mere woman, and a white one at that. Better that I had been more exact in my request to the spirits.”
“Yeah, well, hindsight is always better than foresight, so they say,” she quipped, her trepidation restored and multiplied tenfold. This guy was really acting weird! Hitching her backpack over her shoulder, Nikki stepped back from him. She wondered if she stood a chance of outrunning him or if she could find her pepper spray in time to use it before he attacked her. Did she still have it packed away in her purse? Good Lord! She hadn’t even checked it out to make sure it actually worked! Why hadn’t she tried it on the neighbor’s dog, at least? But as she’d told her would-be Indian, hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
“Look, I’ve got to be going now,” she said. “You can keep the medallion. It goes great with your outfit.” She inched slowly away, not yet brave enough to turn her back to him.
He stood calmly watching her, his well-muscled arms now folded across his chest in a posture of male arrogance. “Where do you think to run, little goose? At best, you would lose yourself in the forest and starve. More probably, you would become a tasty morsel for a hungry bear or wolf.”
“There are no bears or wolves roaming wild in Ohio anymore,” she replied, still edging away. “A stray dog or coyote, maybe, but the worst I’d be apt to encounter around here would be a skunk. Besides, it’s only a short jog along the path to the park entrance and there are plenty of other visitors if I run into any problems.”
“Look about you, Neeake,” he said, again giving her name that peculiar pronunciation. “Do you see or hear any person other than the two of us? And where is this path you speak of? I see none.”
His words drew her up short; her gaze darted anxiously to and fro; her ears strained. He was right! The path should have been just behind her, between the old oak and the trash can. But now, even the trash can was missing! And the only sounds she could hear over the mad pounding of her heart were birds singing in the trees and the rush of water spilling over the fall.
“I . . . I must have miscalculated,” she stuttered. “It’s here someplace. I’ll find it.” Starting to panic, she dashed around the clearing, which itself seemed smaller than before. Still failing to discover the bin or path, she opted to forge her own escape route, anything rather than stay here with this madman, and promptly bolted into the tangle of trees and bushes.
The thick brush was a hindrance, but she plowed through it determinedly, ignoring the branches and briars that tore at her skin and hair. She had to get away, to locate one of the paths that led to more traversed areas of the park. There she would find other tourists, preferably normal ones, and be safe from that fruitcake actor, or druggie, or whatever he was. From there, she could get her bearings and make her way back to her car.
With all her thrashing, it was impossible to tell if the man were following her. She paused a moment and chanced a look behind her, but could hear nothing more than her own raspy breathing and accelerated heartbeats. Nothing moved, and Nikki heaved a thankful sigh and continued on, more slowly now.
Fully half an hour later, tired, out of breath, sweaty, and thoroughly exasperated, she had yet to stumble across one of the many paths intersecting the park. Branches, rocks, thorns, vines—these she’d invariably stumbled into, but not a single trail. For the p
ast fifteen minutes, after surmising that she wasn’t being followed, she’d repeatedly called for help. Now her voice was hoarse and her throat strained.
“Damn, damn, double damn!” she exclaimed. Tears of frustration and anger welled up and spilled onto her cheeks. Sinking wearily to the ground beneath a tree, she let the tears fall freely, feeling thoroughly sorry for herself. Her friends and fellow teachers would have a heyday if they found out about this. She imagined them asking her what she did over summer vacation and herself answering, Oh. nothing much. I toured some caves in southern Ohio, managed to keel over with sunstroke or something, met this looney-tunes Tonto decked out in a breechcloth, panicked, and got myself lost in the woods.
“Next time, I’m bringing someone else along,” she muttered. “Then if I get hip-deep into trouble, at least I won’t be in it by myself.”
From somewhere close behind her, a dreadfully familiar baritone voice intoned solemnly, “To quote one of your English authors, ‘Misery loves company.’ I am yours.”
Chapter Two
With a startled gasp, Nikki spun around to find Silver Thorn leaning against the trunk of the tree, staring down at her with his eerie silver eyes. “How did you sneak up on me like that?” she croaked. “Good grief! You nearly gave me heart failure! How did you find me?”
His lips curved into a derisive smile. “Woman, you left a trail a blind man could follow, and every animal from here to the Great River must have heard you thrashing through the brush.”
Squatting down beside her, he held out her sweater. “You dropped this.”
She reached out hesitantly and silently retrieved the twig-riddled garment, torn between relief at not being totally alone, and fear that he now had her cornered in an even more remote area of the park. If only she could be certain that he was harmless. “Can . . . do you know the way out of this maze, by any chance?”
He offered her his hand, palm up. “Come, Neeake. It is going to storm soon. I will take you to the caves, where we can find shelter. There, I will reveal to you the purpose of this mission.”
Her eyes widened in fright. The caves! God in heaven, if she followed him down inside one of those, no one would ever hear her call for help! For that matter, if he decided to kill her, it could be years before anyone found her body!
But, wait! Surely there would be other people touring the caves. And the paths from the caves to the parking area were well marked. All things considered, this might be her best chance to ditch him, once and for all. At least it would get her out of this blasted woods and back to some semblance of civilization!
“Keep your distance, buster,” she warned him, declining to take his hand. Levering herself to her feet, she quoted wryly, “ ‘Lay on, Macduff.’ Just don’t try to lead me astray. I happen to have a black belt in karate.” A lie, if ever she’d told one!
“Ah, an educated female. Perhaps you will be of some use to me after all, small messenger. But tell me, what is this belt of karate that I should beware of it?”
Deciding it might prove more prudent to play along with him, at least for the moment, she replied reasonably, “It’s a form of martial arts, basically used for self defense, and very effective, too.”
He merely nodded, as if satisfied with her answer, then turned to lead the way, evidently expecting her to follow like a pup on a leash.
With a shrug, she fell in line behind him. Only now did she notice how dark the sky was turning and how the wind had picked up. A rumble of thunder shook the earth. Ahead of her, Silver Thorn picked up the pace. Nikki did likewise, nearly loping in her effort to keep up with him. Within minutes, the muscles along the backs of her legs felt as if they were on fire and she was wheezing like an old steam engine. Then, as if she needed to be any more miserable, the storm broke, drenching her instantly beneath a blinding sheet of chilly, wind-driven rain.
Just when Nikki was sure she couldn’t possibly take another step, she and her guide stepped into a small clearing. Disregarding her previous reactions to his touch, Silver Thorn took hold of her arm and towed her quickly toward a tumble of rocks.
He pointed upward at the mouth of a cave barely visible through the torrent. “Can you climb or shall I carry you?” he asked, leaning close to be heard over the noise of the storm.
She pulled back. “Neither, thank you,” she informed him in her primmest teacher’s voice. “This is where we part paths, sir. I can find my own way from here.”
“Do not be foolish, woman. In the cave, you will be dry.”
“I can be just as dry in my car,” she countered.
He shook his head. “You do not understand.”
Before he could continue with whatever explanation he might have added, a blinding shaft of lightning speared jaggedly to earth, mere yards from where they stood. So close was it that the fine hairs on Nikki’s nape stood on end and the accompanying thunder, deafeningly loud, shook the ground beneath her feet. She let out a yelp of fright and all but launched herself into Silver Thorn’s arms.
Taking quick advantage of her momentary confusion, Silver Thorn lifted her and promptly tossed her over his shoulder. He then began to climb the steep pile of rocks, toting her with him as effortlessly as if he were carrying a sack of feathers.
Hanging face down over his shoulder, with her nose bumping his back and her knapsack thumping her on the head with every step Silver Thorn took, it was several seconds before Nikki managed to regain the breath that had been knocked from her lungs.
“Put me down this instant!” she demanded as haughtily as she could manage under the circumstances. “Did you hear me?” she insisted, pounding on his back with her fist.
“I am neither deaf nor dead,” he responded dryly. “Your voice is like the screech of an owl, and your talons nearly as sharp. Neither is appreciated.”
“Yeah, well there’s more where that came from, you latterday Neanderthal. Release me, or I’ll rip your skin to shreds!” She raked her nails across his spine for good measure, just to let him know she was serious.
He grunted, stopped, and swatted her smartly on her upended backside, eliciting an irate screech that threatened to burst his eardrums. “Do not prove more trouble than you are worth,” he warned darkly. “Now be still, for the rocks are slippery and I may yet drop you on your head.”
For safety’s sake, Nikki stopped wriggling, but continued her verbal tirade, which emerged in short, jerky segments as she bounced atop his shoulder. “I’m warning you. I have three . . . big, strong brothers. And if you hurt so much as a . . . hair on my head . . . they’ll track you down like the mad dog you are . . . And by the time they’re done with you . . . there won’t be parts big enough to bother burying! Now set me down!”
Her captor chose to ignore her, which only served to rile her all the more. Her options at this point were few. Deciding that a tumble down the rock-strewn slope might be preferable and hopefully less painful than being raped or tortured or whatever this guy had in mind, Nikki braced herself as best she could and sank her teeth into his shoulder blade.
Again, Silver Thorn grunted. Evidently, her renewed attack, despite his warning, took him by surprise, for he lurched to a stop. His feet skidded on the rain-slick rock, and for a couple of nerve-wracking seconds they teetered precariously before he once more caught his balance. Nikki’s jaws loosed their grasp on him. Almost instantly, he swung her down in front of him, his expression thunderous as he caught her by the hair, hauled her up on tiptoes, and brought them face to face.
“If you wish to keep those teeth and this mane of hair, you will cease such reckless behavior,” he growled, his teeth flashing white against his bronze flesh. “Your threats and puny struggles will gain you nothing but needless distress.”
Though Nikki, now nearing a state of hyperventilation, could not immediately recall whether or not the Shawnee had scalped their enemies, she was presently in no situation to argue the point, and she certainly didn’t want to bet her life against it. Just the idea of dying in that
manner was enough to send a violent quiver up her spine. Through chattering teeth, hot tears mingling with the raindrops falling on her cheeks, she begged, “Please. Just don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt me. Don’t kill me.” Silver Thorn’s features registered his surprise at her plea. His grasp eased enough to lower her to a flat-footed stance before him. Frowning, he asked quietly, “Little goose, why would you think such a thing? Have I not already told you that it is not my intent to harm you?”
“Then . . . then let me go!” she wailed.
“I cannot. You must come with me. We have much to discuss. Much to learn from one another. Come, Neeake.” He held out his hand to her. “Come, small one. Trust me, and soon all will be explained to you.”
Her eyes locked upon his, seeking reassurance, probing for indications of his sincerity and some hint of compassion, searching for any overt signs of sanity or madness. He returned her look with silent solemnity.
Hesitantly, Nikki placed her hand in his. His long fingers closed about hers, engulfing them.
Something akin to pleasure filtered into Silver Thorn’s eyes as he gave a satisfied nod. “You have heart. Courage. This is good, for the path we begin may be hard. But fear not, for I will protect you.”
With Silver Thorn in the lead, helping her over the most difficult spots, they soon reached the shelter of the cave. Just a few steps inside, it was dry, and not nearly as dark as Nikki had dreaded. The entrance was wide enough to admit plenty of fresh air from outside, while the roof hovered perhaps seven or eight feet above the stone floor. The walls sloped gradually toward the rear, where Nikki could barely see a partial wall and a darker area in the shadows, which she assumed to be a tunnel to another part of the cave. In a near corner, away from the mouth of the cavern, where it would be protected from wind and rain, was a small firepit. Next to it, blankets had been made into a neat pallet.