Seal’s eyes still burned from her tears when Paleskin guards escorted her from the palace. They led her, unchained, out the main entrance and down a winding pathway. Crowds of other Paleskins lined up to witness the first living girl many had seen in a long time. Some licked their lips; many jeered and taunted her.
“You look tasty,” one yelled.
Sharp hands reached towards her, and her guards slapped them back.
“I’ll be mad as hops,” another said towards her in a British accent.
Occasionally they touched her skin. One drew a thin line of blood as its nails sliced against her. She watched as it put its nail to its mouth to taste living blood.
Seal felt the sting of the scratch linger. She breathed in deeply, suppressing her anger and fear. She pictured Beth floating high above, imagining her sister finding a paradise filled with friendly animals and as many dolls as she wanted to play with. The spiritless buckskin doll remained stuffed in her pocket, back to being Paintchip once more.
She walked past the edge of the mountain and into the open. She saw her people gathered. At least a thousand hungry Paleskins surrounded them. Her enslaved ancestors were trapped. She felt horror and anger—the same anger she felt when the mean girls had set Paintchip on fire.
Her people huddled together and watched as they escorted her past them. They did not make a sound. They did not reach for her. There were thousands of them. A few glanced her way. When she lingered too long to look at them, her guards roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her along.
“This way.” The guards caused her to stumble as they changed direction.
They approached a clearing and stopped at the edge. The blind Sister, Merrivale, waited there for them. Even from a distance, Seal could tell her eyes were not normal.
She greeted them angrily, “You’re late.”
“Sorry, my lady, the crowds.”
She dismissed his excuse with a wave. “What is she wearing?”
“Mere rags,” the guard answered.
“Not good enough. There is not much time. She must be prepared for the ceremony. She cannot be dressed as a peasant. Find suitable clothing for her.”
“Remember, you said I should not be so filthy, either,” Seal said. “If I am to summon who you wish, I must be cleansed, or she will not think I honor her properly.”
Merrivale turned towards her. “The Spiritseeker will summon who we seek, clean or not.”
“No disrespect,” Seal said, “but if I am not seen as worthy—living girl or not—she will not come if I call.”
Merrivale reached out with her hands. They were cold and stiff. They brushed through Seal’s filthy hair and ran across her face.
“You are actually pretty.”
That was the first time anyone had ever called Seal pretty. It stung just a little that it came from a blind monster that wanted to kill her. Seal let out a small laugh at the irony.
“What is funny?” Merrivale gently held Seal’s head in her hands. Seal did not resist. She did not pull away.
“What is funny?” the Sister asked again with less patience.
“I find myself in an impossible place,” Seal answered. “If I fail, I know you will torture me or keep me as a pet to feed on for as long as you can. I have lost everything already. My family. My friend. All I have left to lose is my life, and I would prefer it if that happened without pain.”
Merrivale nodded and smiled. “It is not a surprise that you are a coward. But reframe your negative thoughts. You are about to set us all free. Everyone. If you do what we say, you will make many happy. Your people will no longer suffer. We will no longer be trapped with them. You will be free.”
She let go of Seal and stepped back. “Where is this living doll—your sister, as you call it?”
A guard answered, “The doll was lifeless before we got back.”
Seal remained silent.
“Let me have it.”
The guard reached into Seal’s pocket and pulled the scrunched-up doll, handing it to the Sister. She studied it.
“Yes, it is empty. Brave girl to take a life away from us. If we did not have plans for you, Perdita would kill you for stealing this from her. But no one survives the price the Spiritseeker requires.”
Seal now understood what Merrivale considered by giving Seal her freedom.
Seal looked at Paintchip. “Keep it. It serves only as a reminder of what I lost.”
Merrivale, in her cruelty, forced it back into Seal’s clothes as punishment.
“Live with your choice, sister murderer.”
The words shocked and stung Seal.
Merrivale was glad the girl had given up the fight. This would make everything, after years of being trapped, easier. She still had reservations about whether the three of them combined could destroy the Lady of Light and worried about Perdita’s overconfidence. But the Sisters had been jailed long enough.
“Take her to our bathhouse. Tell them she is to be clean for the ceremony, even if they must scrub half her skin off. I will have clothes sent there.”
The guard obeyed. As they passed through the crowd, Seal noticed a tall man holding a knife in one hand while his other arm hung limply down by his side. She noticed him for two reasons. First, he was the first Paleskin that looked like her people. Second, while the others seemed to lust after her blood, this one only had hatred in his eyes. They pushed by him, and he disappeared into the crowd.
Javin and the Elders traveled as long as they could through the veil, darkness on their right, bright light to the left. They were impossible to follow until they crossed back into the open gray sky. All of them wished for a blessing that they would not be spotted before they could blend in with the gathered crowd.
With many forced into one place, the chaos allowed them to sneak through. The Paleskins still rounded up groups, forcing them into the middle of the clearing. The Elders kept Javin hidden by wrapping him in layers of animal skins. They wore clothing to blend in with the people, their weapons hidden under their clothing. More weapons, including axes and a bow, were hidden with Javin. Only a hide or two separated him from their sharp touch.
When they were deep enough into the crowd, they unwrapped Javin.
“Stay in between us. Do not peek, or they will spot you.”
They were safe among these broken spirits who would not cause a commotion. A few glanced at Javin. They could see he lived, but they did not react. A few would touch him out of curiosity, some long-faded remembrance of their past life compelling them, but the touch did not linger long.
“We wait here and get closer when the ceremony begins.”
Rising Bison pointed to the clearing.
A single dead cottonwood tree stood buried in the middle of it, tied down so that it could not fall.
“Most of the Paleskins are on the outskirts. We will get closer when it begins. There will be guards, but we can fight through them.”
“Will these people fight with us?” Javin asked.
“They have no fight in them,” George Crow said. “They live in a fog.”
Rising Bison continued, “We will rescue the girl and try to disappear back into the crowd. The Sisters are the most dangerous. We cannot fight them. We only must find a way through the Paleskins that surround us. It will be hard, but it must be done. They can’t complete the ceremony.”
“What if they do?” Echo asked.
Only Rising Bison had ever witnessed a summoning ceremony, but nothing as grand or elaborate as what they saw tonight.
“Whatever they intend here will be our doom. They would not go to such lengths. If the summoning is complete, they will feed on whatever comes through and it will make them powerful. The rest will feed on all of us, and my guess is they will break free into the living world.”
“That is their plan,” Papa No Clouds agreed. “Who do you think they intend to summon?”
George Crow had already thought about this question.
“I think it is obvious they will bring the greatest power we have all seen. The Lady of Light.”
“Her? Surely even this living girl doesn’t have that power,” Echo said.
“The Sisters must believe otherwise, and it makes sense,” Rising Bison said. “I have seen in my dream that it is her powers that hold us here for her own wisdom that I do not understand.”
Only a handful down here still remember her, like the Elders who had each dreamed of her. The rest had forgotten long ago.
“If it is her, and we cannot escape with the girl, we must kill the girl.”
“No,” Javin said too loudly. “You can’t kill my friend.”
Papa No Clouds put his hand over the boy’s mouth.
“If we can’t stop the ceremony and escape, she cannot be recaptured.”
“And what about me?” Javin asked. “Will you kill me too?”
“They can’t summon her with you. If we escape, you help us fight and rescue those left behind,” Echo said.
Javin didn’t find that acceptable. If things fell apart, he would make other plans to rescue Seal on his own, even if he had to fight the Elders to do it. But he still had some tricks up his sleeve.
“The sky is almost at its darkest. Let’s move closer.”
The five, with Javin in the middle, pushed deeper into the crowd.
Seal approached a lodge constructed of logs and skins. Smoke drifted from its center. They had constructed it on the edge of a larger village with buildings that housed the Paleskins. The Sisters had the lodge erected so they could bathe in privacy when they were not in their palace. The structure, barely lit, remained dark inside, at the Sisters’ preference. The gray skies, though not deadly, bothered their eyes, as it did all Paleskins. Here they could relax.
Seal had expected a simple tub with some privacy, and hopefully warm water. Reality proved better. Her guards handed her to a servant and then posted themselves outside. They were forbidden to enter. Only the Sisters, their servants, and this one special “guest” could go in.
“Clean her. Dress her. Be quick,” the guard said.
He turned to another Paleskin, less adorned than he, “Find Perdita.”
The lesser Paleskin nodded and ran off.
Seal entered the lodge, pushing open the flap. It smelled of dry burning wood smoke. Stones warmed in the fire. A servant carried a stone using a pair of tongs and let it fall into shallow tubs of water where steam rose. The muggy tent held a central larger tub, made of tightly encircled wood, sealed with tar on the inside.
Seal undressed and laid her clothing on the floor. She palmed an object and kept that hand dry as she entered the tub, one leg at a time. When the servants turned away, not trusting even them, she hid it above the water line between the slats of the tub.
The tepid water felt good against her skin. Seal washed herself.
“Excuse me, mother,” Seal said to the older woman. “Can you fetch me more water?”
The servant nodded and threw open the tent flap, letting some of the steam out.
Seal called out to the remaining woman, who appeared more than twice her own age.
“What is your name?”
The servant walked over. “I am Bird.”
Seal looked at her and a name came into her head from a memory.
“Bird is not your name. Your name is Zintkala.”
The young woman’s face brightened at hearing this name.
“Zintkala, have you ever heard of the Lady of Light?”
Zintkala’s face remained blank.
“Let me tell you a story, then.”
Zintkala looked on raptly while Seal recited the story from memory.
“There once were two Lakota warriors out hunting. They were hungry, and their families were hungry after a long drought. The two came upon an unbelievably beautiful woman, beautiful like you. One of the men thought wrong thoughts. He desired her and made obvious advances towards her. He turned instantly to ash when he touched her. His companion always remained respectful, and she instructed him to return home. She would bring food to feed them if they danced for her and danced for the bison.”
Zintkala’s eyes cleared, and she tilted her head in thought.
“You remember more now, don’t you?” Seal asked.
“I do, Storyteller. A little more than I did.”
“Good,” Seal said. “I need help. Will you help me?”
“I will, Storyteller.”
“You must leave now and tell our people to dance when they see me. Tell them to dance for the bison. Only a few may listen, but try to convince them. Tell them the story I told you. Tell it short and quick like I did. And as many as safely as you can. It is important.”
“I will, Storyteller. Thank you for remembering my name.”
Seal put her wet hand on the woman’s shoulder and then pushed gently, urging her to leave. Zintkala exited the tent quickly, throwing open the flap.
Seal was not so sure she would survive tonight. But she would do everything in her power to keep her family safe. Now alone, she slid out of the tub with the hidden packet in her hand and opened it. She kneeled at the fire and emptied the sweetgrass into the flames. It gave off a pleasant smell that filled her nostrils. Then she prayed.
“Dear Lady of Light, please keep my father and mother safe. Please help my sister find peace. And please save Javin. I accept my fate, whatever it may be.”
When she finished, the older woman returned with more water.
“Mother, please wash me if I have any remaining dirt, and let me tell you a story while you do.”
The old woman silently washed her and listened. Seal felt more confidence. The woman scrubbed her hard with a stone. It felt like fine sandpaper as it shaved off thin layers of dead skin. Seal’s skin glowed after, but it felt good.
“Thank you. Please fetch my clothes.”
The old woman, who remembered how to dance again, left the tent, throwing the flap open, and returned with a dress fit for royalty.
Seal did not argue the Sisters’ tastes; the dress was more extravagant than she could ever imagine wearing in her life.
She threw it on and adjusted it the best she could. It fell loosely on her and made her look more like a girl than the young woman she was becoming. She tied her hair using a long ribbon into a ponytail and then threw open the tent flap one last time to leave the steam lodge.
As she left the unlit interior and entered the darkened gray world outside, she came face to face with the third Sister.
Evadine’s menacing fangs, and any confidence Seal felt drained instantly away.