He took a deep, measured breath, straightening his aching back. Weariness hung on him—a thick, unwavering blanket. As theBetaneeof Shadow Mountain, it was his duty to prepare the sacred chamber and lead the unbinding ceremony...then excise Benioko’s drifting spirit from theNeealaho.This duty had never been heavier than today. Not even during his first ceremony asBetaneewhen he’d cut Jude from the neural net and guided him from his husk—freeing him to join the web of his ancestors.
If a drifting spirit remained in its shell or lingered in theNeealaho—the neural web that bound all warriors’ minds as one—it could become vengeful. Until it followed the sacred smoke and climbed the path to its ancestors, nobody on the base would be safe.
Although weak lately, Benioko’s mental thread in theNeealahohad been accessible since Wolf had joined the mental web as a young warrior. Access to theTaounaha’smind had been a comfort when crises arose, when battles grew harsh and long.
But the spiritual strength behind Benioko’s neural thread was gone now. Only a ghostly echo remained. The loss unsettled him. The neural net had never felt so...lacking...before. Lacking heart and wisdom. Lacking reassurance. And he wasn’t the only one feeling the hollowness.
The tense faces, whispered conversations, and sharp tempers attested to the base’s upheaval. Everyone’s eyes held the same questions. What were they to do? How could the Kalikoia continue to exist without the wisdom of theTaounaha?Without access to the elder gods?
He’d told no one of Benioko’s revelation in the moments before his death. Even if Aiden stepped up and into his designated role, who would teach him theTaounahaways? Counting on Aiden to bridge the spiritual gap was not wise, nor something the Kalikoia could not count on.
His chest tight, Wolf pulled Benioko’s totem pouch from the pocket of his tactical pants and rolled it through his fingers. The leather felt soft and supple. How many times had Benioko done this through the cycles, rolled the totem through his fingers as he considered the path before him? Had he questioned the choices ahead? Questioned the elder gods’ decisions?
Never, in the history of the Kalikoia, had they been without a mouthpiece, without access to the elder gods. The Blue Moon mother had not chosen a female mouthpiece in two hundred cycles. And now this. Now Benioko. Had they offended the elder gods? Angered them so much they’d severed the link between the waking world and theTabenetha?
Had the Kalikoia been abandoned? Otherwise, why else would the Shadow Warrior call the mouthpiece to the land of his ancestors without an adequate replacement?
With an exhausted grunt, Wolf clenched Benioko’s totem and sank down to sit cross-legged on the hard packed earthen floor. There was so much he needed to know. A day ago, he would have asked Benioko for his wisdom on the dead Navy SEALs, and the vibrating nanobots, or hisle'ven'a’s extraordinary lion claiming. Now there was no one to ask…no one to set him on the necessary path.
He felt deaf and blind, and so very alone. The isolation sat like a stone in his chest.
He was tasked with preventing theWanatesa, with preserving the Kalikoia—indeed all the peoples ofHokalita. Yet how was he to do this when the Shadow Warrior had ripped the path from beneath his feet?
He instinctively sought Benioko’s thread in theNeealaho.It was not there.
The absence was gut wrenching.
In the past, when Benioko was unavailable, or unforthcoming, he’d sought counsel from Samuel. HisCaetaneewas quick and clever, often pointing Wolf in directions he’d never considered.
But Samuel was locked within his mind. His spirit was so weak, it barely registered on the neural net. Wolf had tried to reach him through theNeealahomultiple times since his grievous injuries, but the connection had never sparked.
Absently, he rolled Benioko’s totem pouch through his fingers again, the leather as soft as butter. The sacred medicine wheel was prepared. Benioko’s husk lay ready for release. Soon, he would call for Shadow Mountain’s warriors and they would perform the unbinding ceremony and release theTaounahato his ancestors.
The base had already held the parting ceremony, where everyone had bid goodbye to the old shaman. If the death was unlinked to theNeealaho,the husk was transported down to the reservation for a final farewell between family and friends. As had been the case with Daniel the week earlier. But an additional ceremony was required for those linked to theNeealaho.Through smoke and fire, the spirit was freed from its husk and neural net and ushered toward the campfires of their ancestors. After the unbinding ceremony, Wolf would escort Benioko’s remains through thebrenahecee,seeding the four corners of the Kalikoia lands with the Old One’s sacred ashes.
Thus it had always been when aTaounahaleft the waking world for the campfires of his ancestors.
If Samuel had not retreated inside his mind, this pilgrimage would not be a solitary one. HisCaetaneewould have served by his side. But Samuel was gone. And Wolf was alone.
His chest heavy, sorrow a knife blade across his heart, Wolf sat locked in loneliness and watched the torches along the walls flicker amid the shadows. While his path had always been a solitary one, loneliness had never been a problem. There had always been two or three warriors walking alongside him—Jude, Benioko and Samuel. Two were lost to him now, and the other locked in his mind.
He’d sought no other ties among his warriors. Hisjavaanee, while a warrior in his own right, refused his Kalikoia heritage and shunned theHee'woo'nee,which left him unsuitable for counsel. And while Wolf loved his mother and often turned to her on matters of life and heart—she was not a warrior. She could not advise him on warrior ways. He sighed, his fingers digging into the supple leather of Benioko’s totem.
His mind shifted to Jillian. Why had she been gifted theheschrmalspirit? What was her spirit gift, and the responsibilities that went with it? If theTaounahahad asked the Shadow Warrior, he’d taken the answer to the medicine wheel with him.
Perhaps O’Neill could answer these questions. He’d also been blessed with the lion spirit.
With a final, tired sigh, Wolf rose to his feet and stared down at the man who’d been a guiding force all his life. “May you find peace and warmth around the campfire of your ancestors. You will be missed by all who know you. Until we meet again, old friend, may you find pride of place around the campfires of your ancestors.”
With his private goodbye still lingering in the air, he called for his warriors through theNeealaho.
Chapter nine
Day 26
Shadow Mountain Base, Alaska
The sacred chamber still echoed with ghostly chanting and flickered with torch light and ceremonial fire. Wolf followed the last warrior around the corner and into the stone corridor—one of the many ancient passages crisscrossing the interior of the great mountain. The smell of burning cedar, sage, and flesh followed him. The sage and cedar would aid in theTaounaha’sjourney to the web of his ancestors, as would the burning of the Old One’s totem.
