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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781509203567 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Wild Rose Press |
| Publication date: | 08/28/2015 |
| Series: | Seasons Of Love Book 1 , #1 |
| Pages: | 286 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.60(d) |
Read an Excerpt
Summer of the Eagle
By Susan Edwards
Dorchester Publishing
Copyright © 2007 Susan EdwardsAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8439-5335-0
Chapter One
Blaze woke abruptly. Her head throbbed painfully, her heart pummeled her ribs and her lungs, starved for air, burned. Jerking upright, she drew in deep, shuddering breaths and fought waves of nausea and dizziness. "Not again," she moaned into her hands. Her long, blue-black hair fell forward.Tonight made three nights running that the terrifying dream had yanked her cruelly from sleep. Who was this child who haunted her? The first night she'd watched as though she was high above, observing a horrible event. The second night she'd felt herself falling into the dream, or maybe the events in the dream had risen to engulf her. She didn't know; it didn't matter. One moment she was watching the events unfold, then she was there, seeing everything happen yet unable to stop any of it. Tonight, she'd become that happy, contented child with no knowledge of what was to come and the child's fear and grief had become her own.
"Ina. Ate." Mother. Father.
The echo of the child's screams had tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. The little girl's sorrow and pain rose from deep inside Blaze. Sharp and stabbing pain made breathing difficult. Rubbing a palm over her heart, Blaze knew she was feeling the echo ofthe child's pain, the child who'd felt the arrows tearing and ripping flesh and bone apart.
Blaze shook and trembled. Worse than the pain in her chest was the overwhelming sense of sorrow and loss. In tonight's dream the man and woman lying dead on that wet, sandy shoreline had been her beloved parents, but that wasn't possible. Her mother had died giving birth to her and her father still lived. So who were these people?
It all seemed so real: the orange-red flames shooting across the sky, the seething blue froth of the lake, the jagged white spears of light raining down around her, trees exploding, sparks scattering into the air. Even the acrid scent of burning seemed real. Everything had been intense, and the ground had vibrated with a fury she'd never known.
Using one of the furs she slept on, Blaze swiped it across her head, wiping the sweat from her skin. Her doeskin dress was twisted around her body and the inky blackness of the cave was hot and stifling. She felt trapped in the small confines of relentless darkness. Shifting, she straightened her dress and tucked her knees high beneath the long, fringed skirt as she curled into a tight ball and focused on steadying her breathing and calming her trembling body. After a while, she rolled onto her back to stare up at the low stone ceiling where a small natural opening allowed smoke from the fire pit to escape and gave passage for the light from the moon and stars to enter.
A current of cool air entered from the entrance of the cave and mingled with air that slid in from a hidden crevice in the back. The fresh air dried the sweat of night terrors from her skin but did little to stop her trembling.
Blaze closed her eyes and sought to bring soothing images of Ina Maka, Mother Earth, into her heart and mind to dispel the nightmare. Wiping all thoughts of the dreams from her mind, she called forth an image of herself leaving the cave. She climbed-higher and higher until she stood at the very top of her stone mountain. Normally, visualization came easy for her, but tonight it took all her concentration, which she welcomed, as it also kept the nightmare at bay.
She saw herself standing on the edge of the tall cliff with the sleeping earth spread out below her, and a thick carpet of bright glittering stars overhead. Beneath her feet, she felt the hum of ancient life. Her hair floated in the gentle breeze and the long strips of fringe on her skirt and beneath her arms swayed gently as she turned in a slow circle.
Peace and calm slid through her as she held the image in her mind. The mountainous rock that provided her with shelter also provided comfort and a source of power, one she could physically stand upon and draw strength from or visualize as she was doing now.
Calmed by the images, each muscle in her body relaxed and she gently drifted. Behind her eyes, night gave way to day and from her perch on top of the world, she watched the graceful brownish-black body of an eagle soar overhead, then dive down to the water, strong yellow talons nabbing a silvery fish.
The anunkasan, or white-headed eagle, was her totem animal: her protector and companion when she traveled to the spirit worlds. It was also the bird that haunted her dreams, and without warning, the images in her mind shifted and plunged her back into her nightmare.
Blaze moaned and rolled her head from side to side, trapped by the visions cascading through her mind. She knew what was coming, yet was helpless to stop it. "No. Please no," she begged. She didn't want to be here, to see this, but a force stronger than her own will held her tightly in its grasp.
In her dreamlike trance, she stepped closer to the edge of the cliff and looked down, saw the child; then she was falling in slow motion, watching the ground coming at her. Blaze sucked in her breath as the sensation changed to one of soaring. She was flying through the air and below her the little girl stared up and held up her hands. Blaze flew close and touched the child and felt the child's joyful cry.
I fly. More than words, Blaze felt the happiness-but it hadn't lasted. The joy and innocence of that moment in time were ripped from the child cruelly.
Crying out as she felt herself falling into a whirlpool of blues and greens, Blaze found herself back in her bed on the cave floor. She blinked. "So real," she whispered, her voice a thin thread of torment. The sheer joy of that child running through the water with her arms held out to her sides made tears of regret stream down her face.
Angrily, Blaze brushed her tears away. Not once in her childhood had she ever felt that wondrous, absolute joy, the feeling of being loved and cherished.
Closing her eyes, Blaze tried to put the dream from her. Her body ached with exhaustion. She needed sleep but each time she closed her eyes, the nightmare returned with the same determinedness of a badger digging after his prey. Admitting she'd get no more sleep that night, Blaze crawled out of her bed. The fringe of her deerskin skirt brushed against her shins as she stood and paced.
Beneath her bare feet, the cool packed earth helped ground her, but it wasn't enough. Slipping outside, the cool night air soothed her overheated skin as she made her way down to the lake. Kneeling, she cupped water in her hands, drank deeply then splashed the coolness on her face, neck and arms.
Sitting back on her heels, Blaze stared out at the calm, silvery surface of water glittering with reflected moon and starlight. How at odds this peaceful setting was from the lake in her dreams that had boiled, churned and thrown waves sky- and landward. Blaze sighed. What did the dream mean? Why was it coming to her? Three nights running the nightmare splintered her mind into pain, horror and grief.
Blaze sat back and rested her head against her knees. Of everything in the dream, it was the overwhelming sense of grief that lingered for the remaining dark hours and nagged at her during each long day. In the space of two heartbeats innocent joy had been destroyed. The echoes of the child's screams made her heart shatter into tiny pieces. Jumping to her feet, Blaze took off at a fast pace, trying to outrun the images of her nightmare.
The shoreline jagged out into the water. Blaze waded through the shallow cove, her fingers brushing against the trunk of a tree. Life hummed beneath her fingers and she gave the bark an absent pat. "Mitakuye Oyasin. To all my relations," she murmured. A shadow swept over her, sliding into the dark forest with a dismal and complaining cry.
Hinyan.
Owl. She stared into the forest, unable to see the owl: the symbol of the darkness within where secrets lay hidden. Blaze drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Secrets. So many secrets." She leaned against the tree and tipped her head back.
Something soft brushed her cheek. Reaching up, she caught a small white-and-brown striped feather and glanced up into the dark treetops. She couldn't see the owl, but she felt the bird high above. Had the bird not given a cry as he passed, she would never have known he was there.
"Pilamaya. Thank you."
A small splash of water drew her attention. "You are restless this night, my child."
Blaze glanced to her left and spotted an old woman from her village seated on the ground next to the lake. Low-hanging branches with leaves swinging gently back and forth like a curtain shielded the woman from view.
"Unci." Blaze bestowed the respected title of grandmother on the woman who was mother to the chief of their tribe and wife of the old shaman. She lowered her gaze to the ground out of habit. Her eyes with their strange coloring sent children running to hide behind their mothers' skirts. Even the bravest warrior was afraid to look her in the eye. "I do not mean to disturb you." She turned to go.
"You do not disturb this old woman. Come. Join me, Cunksi."
My daughter.
The softly spoken words so startled Blaze that she stared at Wise Owl in confusion. "Do you not see to whom you are talking?" She kept her voice respectful. The woman had never been unkind.
"I see well enough, child. Why do you not sit?"
Blaze tipped her chin, allowing the light of the full moon to fall directly on her face. "Why are you not afraid? Why do you not run?" she asked softly. In all fairness, Blaze didn't blame her people for being afraid. She remembered the first time she'd gotten a mirror in trade from another tribe who traded with trappers. She'd stared for a long time into eyes unlike anything she'd ever seen.
Each of her eyes was a multitude of colors-a wheel of blue shading into greens and browns with a second layer of transparent yellow sunbursts and blue streaks covering a third of her eyeball like an incomplete web.
Wise Owl chuckled. "I am too old to run, child. Do you mean to harm me?"
Tears forming in her eyes, Blaze shook her head. She tried hard not to be resentful that so many chose to judge her by looks, not her actions. "I have never caused harm to another-at least, not on purpose." She bit down hard on her lower lip, fully admitting that sometimes she herself found her unique abilities scary.
"I do not believe you will harm me, so I ask again: Will you join me, Cunksi?" The woman patted the ground beside her, her eyes dark, fathomless pools.
Cunski.
Daughter.
Blaze fought back a sob. In all her seventeen summers, she could not remember anyone ever calling her daughter. Feeling weary from lack of sleep, troubled by dreams and just plain heart-sore, Blaze sat beside the woman and drew her knees up to her chest, smoothing her calf-length skirt down over her legs to keep the chill of night at bay.
The tree with its swaying branches created a private shelter for the two women. Blaze wrapped her arms around her knees. Silence cloaked the two women, one wearing the wrinkles of time proudly, the other young and troubled. Time passed. Over the horizon, the full moon glowed and shone down upon them, bathing them, and all around them, in silvery light. Finally, the old woman spoke. "Tell me, micinca. What keeps you from your bed this night?"
My child.
If the old woman only knew. The temptation to unburden herself to the quiet wise woman was too much for Blaze to resist. As was the custom of her people, she took her time responding, choosing her words carefully.
"Dreams, Unci," Blaze replied. She didn't want to hurt or insult the woman by refusing counsel, yet she'd learned the hard way to keep to herself. Once again, silence fell. Frowning at the shimmering lake, Blaze understood that it was up to her to say more. She twirled the shaft of the owl feather between her fingers.
Each night she saw more of the child, Taya, but was it a nightmare or were these visions? She just didn't know. "A child. I dream of a child," she said softly. Glancing at the silent woman beside her, she added almost defiantly, "She was happy."
A gentle breeze tugged the woman's gray hair. "Children should be happy."
Blaze leaned back against the trunk and rested the feather against her heart. She smiled sadly. "And loved." Her voice held no bitterness. She accepted the life she led, and the relationship between herself and her father.
"This happy child troubles you. Why?"
Picking up a skinny twig, Blaze snapped it in two. "Her happiness does not last," she whispered, frustrated and afraid. She laid her head on her knees. Pain seared through it. A soft breeze lifted the long blue-black strands of her hair; it was a soothing balm against the back of her neck, her face, her bare arms. Beside her, the old woman remained silent.
"I am afraid," Blaze mumbled. "For this child. Something terrible happened to her, but I do not know if it is real." She lifted her head. "Is it a vision of the future? Can I help this child? I do not understand why she comes to me. What does she want of me?" She picked up a small stone and, frustrated, rubbed her fingers hard over the cool, rough surface.
"Dreams are messages of the spirits. Listen to your heart."
Blaze lifted her head. "I do not want them to speak to me. I want peace. Is it too much to ask?"
"The path of a winan wakan is not a smooth and easy one."
"A holy woman? Me?" Blaze actually laughed and dropped the now gleaming stone. Her people grudgingly accepted her as a pejuta winan, a medicine woman, but only because their wichasha wakan, their shaman, had said they must. But he'd died four years ago, and without him, there was no way her people would ever accept her as his replacement. They were afraid of her, and allowed her into their lodges only if her father, the tribe's wichasha pejuta, medicine man, was also there.
Wise Owl raised the stone Blaze had polished with her touch and held it up. "You cannot hide from the truth. It is in your heart."
"Why are you not afraid of me?" Anyone else would have looked at her as though she'd sprouted two heads or was some evil spirit.
"It is not for me to question the gifts given to you. I only speak the truth."
Deep inside, Blaze knew the old woman was right. She was more than just a healer and the pebble in the woman's hand was proof. One of her many gifts was the ability to connect with the ancient life trapped inside rocks and stones. She could sense whether a stone held healing properties, and as she'd just done without giving it a moment's thought, she could use her mind and fingers to create beauty where before there had only been dullness.
She stared at her hands. She had knowledge and abilities that no one else had or even knew about. She had so many secrets, many even her father knew nothing about. "What is in my heart does not matter," she said simply. She could forgive her people for being afraid of her, but her father's hatred cut deeply.
Tears pricked Blaze's eyes. Her own father could not accept her for who and what she was, yet this old woman seemed to have no trouble accepting her. There was no fear in her eyes. Just kindness.
Wise Owl rose. She patted Blaze gently on the head, smoothing hair from her face. "You must have faith and trust, cinca."
"I have always followed our ways. Do I not respect and honor all things and speak kindly no matter what is done or said to me?"
Wise Owl sighed. "I did not ask if you followed the way of our people. Having faith and trust in what is, accepting what is, is often a hard lesson."
For a long silent moment the two women gazed at one another. Blaze gave in to a tiny bit of defiance and stared hard at Wise Owl. She waited for the older woman to glance away from the blue and yellow fire of her eyes, but to her amazement, the old woman grinned.
"My husband was right when he said you had spirit." She reached down to gently cup Blaze's face in her old, worn hands. "Listen carefully, child. Much rests on your young shoulders. The truth is in you. To find it, travel the wheel of the south. Seek the child. Learn the truth and find your answers." She wiped a tear from Blaze's cheek. "In innocence you were born, and in faith you will grow to fulfill your destiny." She paused then pulled something from around her neck.
"Follow your heart and you will find strength and protection." Wise Owl pressed a tiny bag dangling from a leather cord into Blaze's hand, then turned and slipped into the deep shadows of the forest.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Summer of the Eagle by Susan Edwards Copyright © 2007 by Susan Edwards. Excerpted by permission.
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