[Montacroix Royal Family Series 03] - The Outlaw by JoAnn Ross

Author:JoAnn Ross [Ross, JoAnn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Men Of Whiskey River, Rogues
ISBN: 9780263802191
Published: 1997-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

8

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"You're going to do what?" Noel stared at Wolfe in disbelief.

"A Blackening Way. It's a shortened version of the Enemy Way."

"So you said."

After changing into more practical clothes contributed by Wolfe's aunt, she'd accompanied him away from the gathering of hogans to a private place where his clan's corn was planted beside a stream. They were sitting on a wide flat boulder overlooking the water. The yellow dog lay at their feet happily basking in the sun.

"And this is supposed to drive out whatever evils resulted in your contamination with white people. With those you call bilaganna."

"Just my enemies," he corrected. "Not all white people." Because he wanted to reach out and smooth away the frown lines from her forehead, he closed his hands into a fist. "Not you."

"Isn't that a relief." Her tone was thick with sarcasm, but she could not hide the relief that flooded into her eyes.

Wolfe felt an uncharacteristic need to try to explain his feelings regarding the ceremony. "When I was sent back East to the white boarding school, I would look at all the cities the train was passing through on the journey and see how all those Anglos lived so closely together. I would wonder how one old and bearded man could possibly hear the prayers of so many white people."

"Faith is accepting without understanding," Noel murmured.

"Yes." He nodded gravely. If they agreed on nothing else concerning what he was about to do, they could agree on this. "The Blackening Way is to restore hozho, the balance between harmony and peace."

"And restore you to the Beautiful Rainbow Way."

He searched her expression for disbelief or scorn and found neither. "Exactly."

There was a long silence, the only sound that of the tasseled green corn rustling softly in the breeze.

"Well, then." She let out a deep breath. "I think you should do it."

Although he hadn't brought her here to ask her advice, her willingness to accept a belief so alien to her own pleased him.

He was lowering his head, intent on kissing her, when an image suddenly swirled in her mind, causing her to gasp.

He pulled back. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." Her throat had gone as dry as the red dust beneath her feet. She swallowed.

"You have gone as pale as Sisnajini." Concerned, he ran the back of his hand down her white cheeks.

His gentle touch did nothing to restore calm. "Sisnajini?" she repeated on a ragged whisper easily heard in this vastly quiet place.

"The eastern mountain, the source of the male rains. First Man and First Woman decorated it with white shells and fastened it to the ground with white lightning. Your complexion reminds me of those shells."

As impossible as it seemed, the story no longer seemed mere myth. Because of what she had seen.

"I saw you." She began to tremble. "You were standing on a bent rainbow, dressed all in black, and this horrible giant was throwing spears at you, which were really lightning bolts." She closed her eyes. "And then there was blood. So much blood.

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