"You won't need them. You will have its mother's help." He climbed to his feet. "Come, Logan. We will walk some more."
He led the way through the trees and past the burial mounds toward the remains of a wire fence that had long since rusted away into orphan posts and twisted ends. Logan followed the Sinnissippi in silence, but his eyes kept scanning their surroundings. He was still unconvinced that they were as safe as the big man seemed to think. He had spent too many years looking over his shoulder ever to think of himself as being safe. The habits of his lifetime could not be put aside easily.
On the other side of the fence, they found the cemetery. Rows of stone markers in various stages of decay poked up through heavy weeds. Some of the markers had fallen over completely. Many had been vandalized, their inscriptions so badly defaced that they were unreadable. Logan didn't know how cemeteries were supposed to look. No one had used cemeteries since before he was born. But he could envision how this one would have appeared if it had been kept up. It made him sad, thinking of so many lives forgotten. Still, he supposed, you carried your memories of the dead in your heart. That was the safest place for them.
Two Bears took him onto the bluffs, into a smaller section of the cemetery that was divided from the larger by a cracked and buckled blacktop road. They walked through the weeds and grasses and marble and granite stones to a pair of massive oaks. A plain, unadorned marker sat by itself in front of the trees.
The big man stopped and pointed at the marker. Logan stared at the writing. It read:
MARION CASE
Born September 2, 1948
Died March 21,2018
"Who is Marion Case?" Logan asked.
In response, Two Bears swept his hand in front of the stone, and the old writing melted away to reveal new.
NEST FREEMARK
Born January 8, 1983
Died My 29, 2062
FAST RUNNER
"I disguised it after the wars began, to hide it from those who might do damage even to the dead," the Sinnissippi said quietly.
"Even in her bones, there is great power. Power that should not fall into the hands of the wrong creatures."
Logan glanced over. "What does the inscription mean? Fast Runner?"
"She was an Olympic champion in the middle–distance events. She won many times. Even though it wasn't her most important legacy, it had special meaning for her. I came back after she died, buried her, and set this stone in place. I knew her work wasn't finished. But this is where she belongs. Sit with me."
He lowered himself to the ground over the grave site, crossed his legs, and folded his arms. Glancing about first, Logan followed. "What are we doing?"
O'olish Amaneh didn't answer. Instead, he put a finger to his lips to signal for silence. Then he closed his eyes and went very still. Logan watched him, waiting to see what would happen. After a moment, the big man began to chant softly in a tongue that was unfamiliar to Logan and must have been the language of his people. The chant rose and fell, filling the silence with its rolling cadences and sharp punctuation. Logan picked up his staff and held it in front of him, ready for anything. He had no idea what to expect. He worried that the sound of the chanting would bring things he would just as soon avoid.
But nothing appeared, not even the feeders he had seen earlier. After a few anxious moments, he began to relax.
Then tiny lights rose out of the earth, out of the grave itself, and danced on the air before him. The dance went on, the lights spinning and whirling and forming intricate patterns. The dance grew frenetic, and suddenly the lights flared a brilliant white, dropped to the earth like stones, and disappeared. The chanting stopped. Two Bears continued to sit without moving, his breathing quick and labored.
Logan blinked to regain his sight, blinded by that final surge of light.
When he could see again, Two Bears was looking over at him. It is done. She has given us what we need."
He reached down, scooped a scattering of white sticks from the grave, and slipped them into his pocket before Logan could determine what they were. Then he rose and started away. Again, Logan followed obediently.
They returned to the fire and the picnic table, where they seated themselves across from each other. The intensity of the fire had not diminished, even though neither of them had been there to feed it. Logan glanced around the clearing. Everything was as they had left it.
"This is how you will find the child," Two Bears said suddenly.
He laid a piece of black cloth on the surface of the table, spreading it out and smoothing it over. When he had the wrinkles brushed out and the material squared, he reached into his pocket and removed the white sticks, holding them out for Logan to see.
The white sticks were human bones.
"The bones of Nest Freemark's right hand," O'olish Amaneh said softly.
"Take them."
Logan decided not to ask the other how he had gotten the bones out of the coffin and the body of Nest Freemark. Some secrets you didn't need to solve.
Instead, he did as he was asked, accepting the bones and holding them cupped in the palm of his hand. He was surprised at how light and fragile they felt. He studied them a moment, then glanced questioningly at the big man.
"Now cast them onto the cloth," the other ordered.
Logan hesitated, then scattered the bones over the cloth. For a moment, nothing happened. The bones lay in a jumble, their whiteness stark against the dark surface. Suddenly they began to jerk and twist, and then to slide across the cloth and link together at the joints to form fingers and a thumb.
When they were still again, all five digits were stretched out in the same direction, pointing west.
"That is where you will find the child, Logan," Two Bears said softly.
"Somewhere west. That is where you must go."
He gathered up the bones, wrapped them in the black cloth, and gave the bundle to Logan. "The bones will lead you to the child. Cast them as often as you need to. When you have found the child, give it the bones of its mother and it will know what to do from there."
Logan stuffed the cloth and the bones into his jacket. He wasn't sure if he believed all this or not. He guessed he did. The world was a strange place now, and strange things were a regular part of it.
"After I find the child and give it the bones, then what?" he pressed.
"You are to go with it wherever you must. You are to protect it with your life." The Sinnissippi's eyes were strangely kind and reassuring. "You must remember what I said and believe. The child is humankind's last hope. The child is humankind's link to the future."
Logan stared at him a moment, then shook his head. "I'm only one man."
"When in the history of the human race has one man not been enough,
Logan?"
He shrugged.
"You will have help. Others will find their way to you. Some will be powerful allies–perhaps more powerful than you. But none will be better suited to what is needed. You are the protector the child requires. Yours is the greatest courage and the strongest heart."
Logan smiled. "Pretty words."
"Words of truth."
"Why don't you do this, Two Bears? Why bother with me? You are stronger and more powerful than any Knight of the Word. Wouldn't you be better suited to this task?"
O'olish Amaneh smiled. "Once, I might have been. Before the Nam and the breaking of my heart. Now I am too old and tired. I am too soft inside. I no longer want to fight. I am filled with the pain and sadness of my memories of the battles I have already fought. The history of my people is burden enough. I am the last, and the last carries all that remains of those who are gone."
Logan folded his scarred hands and placed them on the table. "Well, I will do what I can."
"You will do much more than that," the big man said. "Because there is something else to be won or lost, something of which I have not told you. What is it that you want most in all the world?"