Part 23 (1/2)

”Yeah, but I've felt eyes on me ever since.”

”Raven Mockers.” Grandma's voice was hard as steel. ”What you've been dealing with are the spirits of the demon children of Kalona.”

”I've heard them, too,” Aphrodite said, looking pale again. ”Actually I've been thinking how annoying they've been the last few nights.”

”Ever since Professor Nolan was killed,” I said.

”I think that's when I started noticing it, too. OhmyG.o.d, Grandma! Could they have had something to do with Professor Nolan and Loren's deaths?”

”No, I don't think so. The Raven Mockers lost their physical forms. They only have their spirits left and can do little harm except to those who are old and very near death. How badly did they hurt your hand, sweetheart?”

Automatically I looked down at my unmarked hand. ”Not bad. The scratch went away in just a few minutes.”

Grandma hesitated before saying, ”I have never heard of a Raven Mocker being able to really hurt a vibrant young person.

They are mischief makers-dark spirits that take pleasure from annoying the living and tormenting those at the cusp of death. I do not believe they could cause a healthy vampyre's death, but they could be drawn to the House of Night by the deaths of those vampyres, and have somehow become stronger because of them. Be wary. They are terrible creatures, and their presence is always an ill omen.”

As Grandma had been talking, my eyes had wandered back to the poem. Over and over I kept reading the line Through the hand of the dead he will be free.

”What happened to Kalona?” I asked abruptly.

”It was his insatiable l.u.s.t for women that eventually destroyed him. The warriors of the tribes tried for years to overpower him. They simply could not. He was a creature of myth and magic, and only myth and magic could defeat him.”

”So what happened?” Aphrodite said.

”The Ghigua called a secret council of Wise Women from all tribes.”

”What's a Ghigua?” I asked.

”It is the Cherokee name for the Beloved Woman of the tribe. She is a gifted Wise Woman, a diplomat, and often very close to the Great Spirit. Each tribe chooses one, and she serves on a council of women.”

”Basically they're High Priestesses?” I said.

”Yes, that's a good way to think of them. So a Ghigua called the Wise Women together, and they met in secret in the only place where Kalona would not eavesdrop on them-a cave deep in the earth.”

”Why wouldn't he hear them there?” Aphrodite asked.

”Kalona had an aversion to the earth. He was a creature of the heavens, which is where he belonged.”

”Well, why didn't the Great Spirit or whoever make him go back to where he belonged?” I said.

”Free will,” Grandma said. ”Kalona was free to choose his path, just as you and Aphrodite are free to choose your paths.”

”Free will sometimes sucks,” I said.

Grandma laughed and the familiar happy sound made my insides relax a little. ”Indeed it sometimes does, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya.

But in this case, the free will of the Ghigua women is what saved our people.”

”What did they do?” Aphrodite said.

”They used the magic of women to create a maiden so beautiful, she would be impossible for Kalona to resist.”

”Created a girl? You mean they did some kind of magical makeover on someone?”

”No, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya, I mean they created a maiden. The Ghigua who was the most gifted potter formed a maiden's body from clay, and painted a face for her that was beautiful beyond compare. The Ghigua known as the most gifted weaver in all the tribes wove long, dark hair for her that fell in waves around her slim waist. The Ghigua dressmaker fas.h.i.+oned a dress for her that was the white of the full moon, and all of the women decorated it with sh.e.l.ls and beads and feathers. The Ghigua who was the most fleet of foot stroked her legs and gifted her with speed. And the Ghigua who was known as the most talented singer of all the tribes whispered sweet, soft words to her, giving her the most pleasing of all voices.

”Each of the Ghigua cut their palms and used their own blood as ink to draw on her body symbols of power representing the Sacred Seven: north, south, east, west, above, below, and spirit. Then they joined hands around the beautiful clay figure and, using their combined power, breathed life into her.”

”You've got to be kidding, Grandma! The women made what was basically a doll come alive?” I said.

”That's how the story goes,” she said. ”Young lady, why is that any more difficult to believe than a girl having the ability to call forth all five of the elements?”

”Huh,” I said, feeling my cheeks getting warm at her mild rebuke. ”I guess you have a point.”

”For sure she has a point. Now be quiet and let her tell the rest of the story,” Aphrodite said.

”Sorry, Grandma,” I muttered.

”You must remember that magic is real, Zoeybird,” Grandma said. ”It is dangerous to forget that.”

”I'll remember,” I a.s.sured her, thinking how ironic it was that I could doubt the power of magic.

”So, to continue,” Grandma said, drawing my attention back to the story. ”The Ghigua women breathed life and purpose into the woman they called A-ya.”

”Hey, I know that word. It means 'me,' ” I said.

”Very good, u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya. They named her A-ya because she had a piece of every one of them within her-she was, to each Ghigua woman, me.”

”That's pretty cool, actually,” Aphrodite said.

”The Ghigua told no one about A-ya-not their husbands or daughters, sons, or fathers. With the next dawn, they led her out of the cave to a place near the stream where Kalona came every morning to bathe, all the while whispering to her what she must do.

”So it was there, sitting in a little patch of morning sunlight, combing her hair and singing a maiden's song, that Kalona saw her, and-as the women knew he would-he became instantly obsessed with possessing her. A-ya did what she had been created to do. She fled from Kalona with her magical speed. Kalona followed her. In his fierce need for her, he barely hesitated at the mouth of the cave into which she disappeared, and he did not see the Ghigua women who followed behind him, nor did he hear their soft magical chanting.”Kalona caught A-ya deep within the bowels of the earth. Instead of screaming and struggling against him, this most beautiful of maidens welcomed him with smooth arms and inviting body. But the instant he penetrated her, that soft, inviting body changed back into what it had once been-earth and the spirit of woman. Her arms and legs became the clay that held him, her spirit the quicksand that trapped him, as the Ghigua Women's chanting called on the Earth Mother to seal the cave, trapping Kalona in A-ya's eternal embrace. And there he still is today, firmly held to the bosom of Earth.”

I blinked, like I was surfacing after a long underwater dive, and my eyes found the poem lying on the bed beside the lavender pot. ”But what about the poem?”

”Well, Kalona's entombment wasn't the end of the story. At the moment his tomb was sealed, each of his children, the terrible Raven Mockers, began to sing a song in a human's voice that promised Kalona would one day return, and described the horrible vengeance he would take against human beings, especially women. Today the details of the Raven Mockers' song are pretty much lost. Even my grandmother knew only snippets of what it said, and only that from words whispered by her grandmother. Few people wanted to remember the song. They thought it bad luck to dwell on such horrors, though enough of it has survived by being pa.s.sed from mother to daughter that I can tell you it spoke of the Tsi Sgili and the bleeding earth, and how their father's terrible beauty would rise again.” Grandma hesitated as Aphrodite and I stared in horror at the poem. Finally she said, ”I'm afraid the poem from your vision is the song the ravens sang. And I think it's a warning that Kalona is about to return.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

”It is a warning,” Aphrodite said solemnly. ”All of my visions are warnings of a tragedy that could happen. This one really wasn't any different.”

”I think you're right,” I said to Aphrodite and Grandma.