The Heir of Atlas by Anthony James

Author:Anthony James [James, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atlas Literature
Published: 2024-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

The people had been working over him all night. They said their vigilance through the dark would help him find his way back to them in the light, if that is what he chose to do. Sandpaintings had been placed around him in the large tent. Boughs and reeds had been placed over his body, and the scent of sage filled the air.

Kara was beyond weary. The only thing that mattered was the chant. It focused her mind and her energy on Ash. Atsa told her to rest when she needed to rest, that once he started the ceremony, he would not be able to look after her. But the chant buoyed her, and its purpose reinforced her. Atsa said her strength of spirit would be a guiding beacon for him. If it was the only thing within her power to do to help Ash, it was what she would do.

Atsa was in a state of deep concentration. Streams of sweat ran down his forehead and neck. The people chanted around him, and Kara chanted too.

The Traveler is lost in a place out of place.

May our song be the beacon.

May our song be the beacon.

The dry wind blows, obscuring the path.

May our song be the beacon.

May our song be the beacon.

The cedar is the tether from this world to that.

May our song be the beacon.

May our song be the beacon.

The smoke cleanses his body for his return.

May our song be the beacon

May our song be the beacon

The holy paintings illuminate the way.

May our song be the beacon.

May our song be the beacon.

We chant for his spirit, his mind to come home.

May our song be the beacon.

May our song be the beacon.

They had been chanting for hours. The words came from her effortlessly, but they no longer sounded like words. The chant danced with the firelight, slowly changing over time. It sounded like a hummingbird, then like a brook. It sounded like wind rustling aspen leaves and like the fire that crackled and danced in her eyes.

Atsa began to tremble and for the first time in many hours he moved. He extended a hand.

We chant for his spirit, his mind to come home.

May our song be the beacon.

May our song be the beacon.

The air in front of Atsa shimmered, and she felt something, the thing she had been waiting for. Ash. Slowly but surely, an ethereal shadow appeared in the middle of the tent, and the chanting began to crescendo. The figure took form.

Atsa stood and led the spirit over to the body on the pallet in the middle of the tent and gestured to it. “Are you ready?” Atsa asked. The shadow seemed to hesitate. Kara stopped chanting. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew that this was the moment of Ash’s decision, whether he would choose to come back to them. She wanted to shout out to him to tell him to come back, but she knew that he wouldn’t hear her.

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