Excerpt: Spiritwalker

She was going to die. The blizzard howled, freezing winds beating mercilessly at her as she struggled to put on foot in front of the other. She was practically blind in the storm, arms stretched out in front of her in the vain hope of running into the cliff face she knew had to be there. If she hadn't wandered away from the path along the river and was hopelessly lost in the wilderness.

Shanna, shaman of the White River tribe, was starting to regret turning down Dashek's offer of remaining with the Three Horse tribe until the storm had passed, although she'd gratefully accepted the bundle of supplies he'd pressed on her. She'd assured the old healer that she would be fine, that she would not be able to complete her vision quest by remaining safe within the shelters of Three Horse.

Of course, she reflected, wryly, it would be hard to complete the vision quest if she froze to death in the blizzard, as well.

She thought her outstretched hands brushed against something, and she reached out, eagerly, forcing down her disappointment when she realized that she'd run into a tree. The fragile bark fell away under her hands and she pulled her hands away before she could do any more damage to the already weather-beaten tree. Then, as she tried to go around the tree, she tripped over a root, landing on something soft that protested with a loud squeal.

Scrambling backward, Shanna carefully investigated whatever she'd landed on, her numb fingers running gently over what felt like a face. A very small face.

'A child?' she thought, shocked. 'There's a child caught out in this storm?'

Instinctively, she gathered the small, shivering form to her chest, feeling thin arms wrap around her waist in response. She clutched the child, hard, as she stumbled away from the meager shelter of the tree, back out into the storm. The wind sliced through the gaps in her thin deer hide clothes, and she cursed the gods of nature for sending down the surprise storm.

She didn't know how long she stumbled around blindly, praying to whatever deity would listen to her to find shelter for herself and the child. She felt her steps grow sluggish and erratic, felt herself wavering, wildly, but she forced herself to keep going. She had someone other than herself to think about, now.

Finally, she touched something that felt like rock, and she dragged her hand along the surface, barely feeling the skin of her hand catch and tear on the jagged rocks. She was feeling for an opening of some kind, a mouth to a cave or even a fairly good-sized crevice that she could wedge herself and the child into until the storm had passed.

She lurched forward when her hand lost contact with the rocks, and she almost cried, thinking she'd lost her way again, but, groping around, she realized that the surface she'd been touching now curved inward. She'd found her way to shelter.

Following the new wall further along its length, she realized that the battering she was getting from the wind had stopped, and that the noise of the storm was lessening, sounding more distant. Sending thanks to whatever god had answered her prayers, sending them to safety, she crouched and felt around the floor of the cave.

Feeling only soft sand beneath her fingers, she set the child down on the ground, keeping one hand on the child's shoulder to keep it from wandering away from her. Then, she freed her hands from the thin strips of hide she'd torn from the bottom of her shirt and wrapped around them when the storm had first started, and used her free hand to clumsily paw at the impromptu covering she'd wrapped around her face to protect her eyes and keep her mouth and nose clear. The hide came away, cracking under the strain of the ice and snow covering it, freezing it into an almost solid mass, and she blinked, slowly, taking her in surroundings.

The cave was dark, with not even enough light coming in to cast shadows around them, and she instinctively gathered her magic to create a ball of light. Her first attempt sputtered, dying down after a few seconds as she shivered, unable to hold her concentration long enough to form the light. Her second attempt went just as well, and she'd almost resigned herself to remaining in the dark when the space was suddenly filled with a blazing light that burned at her eyes even through her hastily-closed eyelids.

Slowly, the light dimmed to a more tolerable level, and Shanna opened her eyes, looking down to see the child beaming up at her, happily.

"Very good," she praised, her voice raspy, and the child's smile got even wider, if that was possible.

"Will you make a fire, now?" the child asked, in a high-pitched voice, his small face staring up at her with unabashed curiosity. "I can't summon fire."

"Let me rest for a moment," Shanna said, and the child bobbed his head in understanding.

"You rest," he chirped. "I will get wood."

The child scampered off before Shanna could protest, and when she tried to go after him, her weakened muscles gave under the strain of trying to stand up, and she collapsed back to the sand. The child returned a few minutes later, emerging from the depths of the cave with his arms full of pale, white mushrooms, large enough that their caps almost obscured his face.

"No wood," the boy told her, solemnly, setting the mushrooms down in a pile in front of her.

"We can't eat those," Shanna croaked, recognizing the fungus from when she'd been learning her craft. "They're deadly."

"Good fuel," the boy declared. "You will make fire, now."

He was strangely insistent about wanting fire, and Shanna couldn't help but think that it was from more than just a desire to have heat so that they could warm up. Bending forward, she stretched her hands out over the pile of mushrooms. Breathing slowly, she reached for the well of magic that lived within all things, gathering up a thread of energy and winding it around the mushrooms.

She didn't need much, fire was the easiest spell for anyone to work, if they had the gift for it. She smiled in triumph as the mushrooms caught fire, burning well just like the boy had promised. Across the fire from her, the boy gave her another one of those wide smiles, scooting closer to the fire and holding his hands out toward the warmth.

"What were you doing out there?" Shanna asked, leaning forward to study her young companion. "Were you traveling with your family when the storm hit?"

"I was alone," the boy told her, turning to face her, and Shanna gasped in shock as she got a good look at just who she'd rescued.

It was no human child sitting across from her, sharing the warmth of the fire. A small, angular face looked at her out from underneath a shock of bright blue hair. Wide, almond-shaped eyes filled his face, glowing bright green in the light. Small fanged teeth poked out of the boy's mouth, bone-white against his deep, red lips, and Shanna reached out a shaky hand to gently touch one of the boy's teeth. He leaned forward into the touch, a thin, forked tongue flicking out and brushing against her fingers.

The last thing she noticed were the small, neatly-pointed ears tucked in tight against the sides of his head, and it only served to convince her of what she suspected. The child she'd rescued was one of the Shining Ones.

The Shining Ones, the name her people had given the mysterious spirit creatures, were unlike anything ever seen in the history of the tribes. Her fellow shamans believed the Shining Ones to be creatures of magic, and looking at the boy sitting in front of her, Shanna was inclined to agree.

"Ulshuvai," she named him, and the boy nodded.

"Human," he said, brightly, reaching out and brushing his fingers over the curve of her ear, so unlike his own.

"I am Shanna," she said, tapping her chest.

"Soraei," the boy said, with a gesture of his own.

"You came from one of the Other places, didn't you?" Shanna asked. "Were you summoned?"

She shuddered at the thought, wondering what shaman would summon one of the Shining Ones, only to abandon him in the middle of a storm. Unless the shaman was dead-

"I am alone," the boy repeated, softly, interrupting her thoughts. "I came to find you, Wise One."

"Me?" Shanna asked, confused. "Why me?"

"You are strong," Soraei told her. "You are strong enough to close the Veil. Forever."

"Close the Veil," Shanna echoed. "But, that would seal the Shining Ones off from our world."

"Forever," Soraei repeated, a sad note in his voice.

"But, why?" Shanna asked, insistently.

The Veils were curtains of energy, barriers that separated her world from the world of the Shining Ones, separated all the worlds. For generations, ever since the first shaman had encountered one of the Shining Ones, there had existed a peace between them; while they might fight each other, no human would ever willingly harm a Shining One. Shanna, herself, had grown up on tales of the Shining Ones, had met one during her training as a shaman. It had been a life-changing experience, one that she would never forget, for as long as she lived.

To close the Veil, to sever the connection between their worlds, the thought was almost painful. To lose that light from their world-

"Why would you want to close the Veil?" Shanna repeated, practically pleading for an answer. "We've never harmed one of your kind."

"No," Soraei said, regretfully, "but there are those who would harm yours."

"I must speak with the other shamans about this," Shanna said, after a moment. "This is not a decision I can make on my own."

"No," Soraei said, insistently. "It must be done, now."

"I will still need to return to White River," Shanna told him. "If I am to undertake a working as great as this, there are preparations I must make."

"Very well," Soraei said, with a sigh. "We will leave in the morning."

The longer she spoke with him, the more Soraei's speech changed from the pattern he'd had earlier. It was a subtle thing, but it poked at Shanna like a stone in her foot wrappings, and she resolved to keep a close eye on the Ulshuvai until morning. She wanted the chance to speak with the elders of White River before she even thought about closing the Veil.

Finally, hunger had her leaving the heat radiating from the fire, and Shanna ventured further into the interior of the cave, her way lit by a ball of light she kept floating above her head. Along the way, she found a sizable rock with a sharp point, one that fit well into her hand, and she picked it up to use as a weapon. She moved slowly, listening for the slightest sound, sliding her feet through the soft sand rather than stepping through it, to avoid making any sounds of her own. If she found what she was looking for, she wanted her own presence to be a surprise.

She'd gone a few feet deeper in the cave when a soft, scuffling sound caught her attention. She froze, turning slowly in the direction of the sound, smiling when she spotted a pair of wide eyes staring at her from a crevice in the wall. The rabbit bolted out of its hiding hole, trying to make it past her, and Shanna flicked her fingers, the light above her head flaring brighter with the exertion of her will. The rabbit froze in place, stunned by the light, and Shanna let the rock in her hand fly, striking the small animal on the skull with a sharp crack.

Picking up the dead rabbit, she slung it over her shoulder, snagging her weapon off the ground as well. She made her way back into the chamber she and Soraei had bedded down for the night, finding the Ulshuvai still crouched by the fire, hands held out in front of him. He looked up when she entered the chamber, and his eyes lit up at the sight of the rabbit over her shoulder.

"Food?" he piped up, hopefully, and Shanna had to smile at the boyish enthusiasm in his voice. He reminded her of her son, Shanir.

"Do you eat meat?" she asked, politely, trying to remember what she'd learned about the Ulshuvai from her mentor.

"I will save the meat for you, Wise One," Soraei promised, stretching his hands eagerly toward the rabbit.

Shanna handed it over, watching in fascination as the boy brought the rabbit to his mouth, sinking his sharp fangs into the soft veins at the neck. He made happy little sounds as he drank the dead animal's blood, and when he finally lifted his head, there was a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth that quickly disappeared with a flick of his forked tongue.

"It is still warm," he said, happily. "Very tasty. Thank you."

Before handing the rabbit back to her, he slit it open along the stomach with the sharp claws on the tips of his fingers. A few, quick swipes separated the skin from the meat, and then he gave the skinned rabbit to her. Taking the rabbit, Shanna wrapped a thin thread of magic around it and floated it above the fire, settling it down far enough within the flames to cook the meat.

When it was done, she pulled the rabbit out, plucking at the hot meat with her fingers. She again offered some of the meat to Soraei, but the boy declined, curling up on his side of the fire, blinking sleepily at her as he watched her with those wide eyes. Shanna ate her fill and then removed the rest of the meat from the bones, wrapping the meat in a clean piece of cloth and stowing it near the fire. Then she tossed the still-warm bones out into the storm, watching as the residual heat made the snow steam and hiss where it hit.

Going back to the fire, Shanna sank to the ground, folding her legs underneath her and dropping her chin to her chest in a meditative pose. She breathed, slow and deep, letting her eyes close as she let herself drift, feeling herself expand as she did. As she sank into the deepest part of the trace, she sent her spirit out into the storm, trying to find out exactly where she was.

She floated through the storm, memorizing landmarks as she passed over them, marking a route through the forest, making sure to always follow the river. All too quickly, she found herself at the edges of the land claimed by White River, although she thought that it would take her and Soraei at least a day to reach the tribe by foot. It warmed her inside to know that she was so close to home.

Entering the camp, she floated down among the huts of her people, barely recognizing the snow-covered mounds for what they really were. Searching out one hut in particular, she glided through the door, gazing upon the occupant within. After a few moments, Shanir sensed her presence in his hut, and the young man woke up, immediately, turning toward the door with an eager look on his face. His face fell, slightly, when he realized that he was alone in the hut.

"Mother?" he called out, softly, and Shanna reached a hand forward, brushing her fingers over her son's cheek.

It wasn't possible for him to feel her touch, not without going spirit-walking, himself, but he still smiled, knowing that she was there.

"I'll see you soon, Mother," he said, and then as he drifted back to sleep, Shanna let herself be pulled back into her body.

She yawned, overcome with exhaustion as she opened her eyes, and she decided to follow Soraei's example, curling up and going to sleep. It felt like she'd only just closed her eyes when she felt herself being shaken awake, and she opened her eyes to find Soraei bending over her, his hand on her shoulder.

"Wise One, the storm has stopped," he explained. "We will leave, now?"

"Soon," Shanna promised, rolling to her feet, gracefully, shaking the stiffness out of her arms and legs as she stood.

Walking to the mouth of the cave, she peeked outside, taking stock of the weather. The storm had stopped, leaving the ground covered in a blanket of glistening, white snow. The smooth surface was almost pristine, undisturbed except for a trail of small footprints leading away from the mouth of the cave.

"Did you go outside?" she called back to Soraei, who joined her at the cave entrance.

"Had to catch food," the boy explained, gesturing back by the fire, and Shanna followed his gesture to see the body of a snow-cat lying by the banked fire.

Shanna blinked in surprise, wondering how she hadn't seen the cat when she first woke up. Going over to the cat, she prodded the soft fur with her foot, impressed by the evidence of Soraei's skill as a hunter. The snow-cat may have been small, barely no more than a half-grown cub, but it still obviously outweighed Soraei by a great deal. The boy was either very strong, very fast, or both, to have been able to take down the cat.

"Do you like it?" Soraei asked, timidly, from behind her, and Shanna got the impression that he was trying very hard to impress her.

"You did a good job," she praised him, watching his face light up. "Will you help me skin it?"

Between Soraei's sharp claws and careful use of her own magic, they made quick work of removing the snow-cat's soft pelt from the rest of the body. Then, Soraei went to work on the meat, slicing it into long thin strips after separating it from the bones. When he finished, he discarded the bones in the snow as she'd done the night before, burying them in the snow to keep them from being found by any other predators.

Shanna, for her part, spread the pelt on the floor of the cave, preparing to dry out the pelt so that Soraei could use its warmth as protection against the cold. She regretted not having the time or the tools to properly preserve the beautiful pelt, but so long as it was clean and dry, it would serve its purpose. Spreading her fingers out so that her hand was flat, she passed her hand slowly over the pelt, frowning in concentration. The heat that radiated from her hand served to quickly dry out the pelt, shrinking it slightly as the skin tightened under the heat.

When it was done, she picked the pelt up off the ground, shaking it out and gesturing Soraei over to her. She wrapped the snow-cat's front legs around the boy's neck, using its own claws to pierce the hide and hold it in place. Then, she pulled the head over Soraei's head, leaving the rest of the pelt draped down over his back. She smiled when she realized that he looked like the shamans at Summer Gathering.

"Now, you will be warm," she told him, and the boy snuggled happily into the pelt, drawing it close around him.

He watched her curiously as she gathered snow to toss on the fire, smothering it. Then, she gathered the meat from the snow-cat, bundling it with deer hide ties she pulled from her pack. She tied her pack, along with the meat, back on her back, holding out her arms for Soraei, swooping the boy up as he leaned into her embrace.

He curled against her chest as they left the cave, the pelt on his back protecting him from the wind. The storm may have stopped, but it was still bitterly cold outside, cold enough to take Shanna's breath away.

She set out on the path her dream-vision had shown her, headed for White River. She kept a slow, steady pace, trying to conserve as much energy as possible in the face of the difficult trek. The sun shining overhead was more a hindrance than a help, the light blinding as it reflected off the snow. Shanna found her eyes watering from the glare, and she blinked furiously to clear the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

Shanna kept walking as the sun got higher in the sky, forcing herself to work through the fatigue that pressed down on her, not willing to stop. Not when she was so close to home. Finally, as the sun started to sink below the horizon, she came over the top of the ridge that overlooked White River. A new burst of energy flowed through her at the sight of the camp in the distance, and she picked up her pace as she went down the ridge.

Soraei, still secure in her arms, looked up as they reached the edge of the camp, his wide eyes taking in the new scenery, curiously. Then, his face wrinkled up, and he squirmed in her arms, craning his head around. Shanna put him down on the ground so that she wouldn't drop him, watching the boy spin around in a circle, obviously trying to find something.

"Reynar!" she called out, taking her own look around for the sentries that should have been posted at the edges of the camp claimed by the tribe. "Dalk! Shanir!"

Her cries were met with silence, and Shanna started to get worried. She and Soraei should have been challenged upon their entry to the camp; at the very least, someone should have come running at her shouts. The camp shouldn't have looked like it was abandoned, not when she'd just seen them the night before in her dream-vision.

"Wise One," Soraei said, softly, drawing her attention to him. His forked tongue flicked out, restlessly, tasting the air. "I smell blood. A lot of blood."

"Where?" Shanna asked, feeling a knot of fear tighten in her gut.

Soraei shouldn't be smelling blood around the camp; it was too easy to draw predators that way, and the hunters of the camp were too careful for that kind of mistake.

"Here," Soraei told her, leading the way through the camp, and Shanna followed him, apprehensively.

He wound his way through the huts, moving unerringly toward the clearing where she conducted her rituals in her role as shaman of the tribe. The uneasy feeling started to get stronger at the sight of the still-empty camp, but Shanna shoved it aside. Panic would do her no good, now.

Then, they arrived at the clearing near the river, and Shanna felt her breathing hitch, panic threatening to overwhelm her, anyway. She choked down a sob, trying to keep from screaming as she slowly advanced on the gruesome sight before her.

Her people had been slaughtered. The clearing had been scraped free of snow, and the bodies were piled in the center, discarded like garbage. Stopping at the edge of the pile, Shanna knelt down by the nearest body, looking into the frozen eyes of Dalk, her best friend since childhood. Reaching out a trembling hand, Shanna brushed her hand over Dalk's eyes, closing them.

The bodies were all marked, strange symbols carved into each of them, no surface of the skin left unmarred. There was surprisingly little blood in the area, for all the carnage, and Shanna was reminded of the way Soraei had drained the rabbit of blood to eat.

"This is why the Veil must be closed, Wise One," Soraei whispered, from behind her, and Shanna turned to see tears shining in the Ulshuvai's eyes.

Instinctively, she held out her arms, and the boy hugged her tight, his tears running down the side of her neck as he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and Shanna allowed her own tears to flow, sharing in the boy's grief.

"This is what happened to your family, isn't it?" she asked, finally, feeling Soraei nod against her shoulder.

"The Eldest killed them," he said, his voice trembling.

"Eldest?" Shanna repeated, warily.

"The Eldest of the soul-takers," Soraei told her, quietly. "He killed my family. He-"

"He is right behind you," a voice interrupted from behind them, and Shanna whirled around, putting herself between Soraei and this new threat.

A man stood a short distance away, unabashedly naked. His skin was unbroken, unscarred, as though he'd never been injured in his life. Or, he had a remarkable healing ability. He endured her scrutiny with an amused smirk on his face, holding his arms out at his sides to better reveal himself.

"Do you like what you see, Shaman?" he asked, and Shanna jerked her eyes up to his face, taking in the cold glint in his eyes.

She could feel an unsettling fog settle over her. It didn't make her numb, it just kept everything at a distance, where it didn't hurt so much. She welcomed the fog.

"You murdered my tribe," she stated, calmly. "You murdered my family."

"Not all of them," the man told her, still with that strange smile on his face.

He gave a careless wave of his hand, and a figure stumbled forward, struggling to walk on obviously broken legs. The young man's body swayed as he walked, the grinding of bone on bone easy to hear even from a distance. Through the bruises and cuts that mangled the once-handsome face, Shanna recognized her son, and part of her howled in protest over Shanir's fate.

His face was twisted with agony as he staggered toward her, broken hands reaching helplessly for her. His eyes had been burned out of his head, leaving gaping holes on his face, and when he opened his mouth, a strange mewling sound emerged, the only sound he could produce with his tongue torn out.

Behind her, Soraei gasped, a strangled sound full of fear, and Shanna reached back, squeezing his shoulder, reassuringly. Then, she took Shanir's hands as he stopped in front of her, brushing her hand lightly over his cheek.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears streaking freely down her face. "I love you."

Shanir leaned into the hand she rested on his cheek, a soft mewling sound coming from his throat. Blinded by tears, Shanna stroked her hand over his ruined face one last time, and then she took Shanir's head in her hands, twisting violently. The sharp crack of his neck breaking made her stomach roll, and she fought to keep her meager breakfast down. Her son's body collapsed to the ground at her feet, and Shanna looked across him to the man, a challenging look in her eyes.

"It would seem that I underestimated you," the man said, sounding surprised. "You would make a formidable ally, Shaman."

"You murdered my son," Shanna told him. "For that, I will kill you."

The man's face hardened with anger, his human visage rippling as he lost control of his emotions, and for the first time, Shanna recognized the monster that faced her.

What the Ulshuvai called soul-takers, her people called demons. Pure evil, given physical embodiment through the magic they wielded, they fed on the fear and pain of their victims, collecting souls as trophies. They possessed the ability to change their shape, but their true form was something out of nightmares.

Claws longer and sharper than any animal, teeth that could sever limbs or crush bone, and tails with barbed ends that killed whatever they touched. Their skin was the same deep red as the blood of their victims, their eyes glowed like fire. They were abominations, tainted versions of the Shining Ones, and they were capable of living for centuries. Maybe even longer.

And, if Soraei was right, the one facing her was the most ancient of the demons. The Eldest.

"I give you one last chance to join me, Shaman," the demon said, as he reverted to his true form, shedding the human seeming.

"Never," Shanna swore.

Then, before she could think about the foolishness of her actions, she summoned her energy, weaving it with the magic in the air around her. And then she launched the energy at the demon, straight for the heart.

Incredulously, she watched as the demon shrugged off the blow as easily as she'd shrug off a fly. Then, he advanced on her, a cruel smile on his face. He reached her in a few quick strides, backhanding her and sending her flying through the air. She crashed to the ground, hard, feeling something break underneath her, and when she tried to push herself to her feet, her arms buckled, agony shooting through her body.

Driven by fury, she managed to drag herself to her feet, fighting through the pain, but once up, it was all she could do to stay on her feet, swaying where she stood. The demon began to laugh as he took in her helplessness, and a thin scream split the air as a small form launched itself past her.

Shanna watched in horror as Soraei threw himself at the demon, his small claws extended. The demon simply batted him away, watching as the boy landed in a tangled heap near the bodies of her people. Her heart cried out in anguish when the boy didn't move, and she turned back to the demon, fresh anger filling her body.

Drawing on the last of her energy, she staggered forward into a run, forcing her way past the demon's defenses. She hit him in the chest, wrapping her arms around him and driving him backward, toward the river. They hit the ice, together, breaking through to the freezing water at a thin spot.

As they sank, the demon struggled in her grip, but Shanna tightened her grip, mercilessly. Then she released the energy she'd held in reserve, feeling heat explode around her as the fire raged upward. Above her, the sky had turned orange from the flames, and her fury sustained the flames far past the point where they would have died in the cold.

Shanna could feel her skin burning, the flames eating at her as they radiated from her body. Through the pain, she grinned in triumph, knowing that the demon was being subjected to the same pain she was.

The demon thrashed, suddenly, and even though Shanna tried to hold onto him, he managed to escape, fleeing for the surface of the river. The murderer of her tribe, of her son, was getting away. Shanna knew she couldn't follow him, physically, but there was one last thing she could do.

Closing her eyes one last time, Shanna let go. She severed the energy that kept her soul tied to the physical world, watching as her burned body sank to the bottom of the river. Then, she turned and followed the demon up toward the sky.

'I swore I was going to kill you,' she thought, fiercely. 'I will find a way to keep that promise. Even if it takes me lifetimes.'