A tall man bent and entered the grass shelter. He was taller than Cameahwait. Older. His face was tanned and wrinkled, like that of a man who has spent most of his life outdoors. His clothes and hair were rumpled, looking like he’d been on an expedition over some rough terrain. Grass stains marked the back of his tunic, and brambles had pulled at his sleeves.
He carried a sack in his hand, which he dropped to the ground as he came in, offering both hands to Sacagawea. He said in a hoarse, emotional voice, “We thought you lost! The others managed to escape and come back, but when you didn’t, we thought we’d never see you again.”
“I know, Dosabite,” she said. “But I survived. Now I am back.”
Only then did the shaman notice Meriwether. He paused in surprise and concern, as if not sure what to say or do.
“This is Captain Lewis,” Sacagawea said. “He is one of the leaders of the expedition from the white men of the east. They have come to find what was happening in this land, and also to find the edge of the world, where the sun sets. That way he hopes to sail away and reunite with his people.”
The shaman, Dosabite, scratched at his chin in deep thought, then spoke, with Sacagawea translating. “I am not sure I would consider it a good thing for you to find a way to rejoin the men of your tribe. If the way is open across the sea where the sun sets, then more and more of your people will come, until there is not enough land or buffalo for everyone.”
Sacagawea insisted that this was not the captain’s intention, and Meriwether explained that even if they found a way back to Europe it would be an arduous, difficult way, and that large numbers of people could never come here quickly, but that trade would make life better for everyone, including the Snake People. The shaman made acerbic comments about the manners and morals of fur traders, and how plentiful they were all over this land.
Which made it awkward for Sacagawea to show him to her husband and ask for his help. But the fact that Charbonneau was married to her made him one of the tribe, or at least someone related to them, so that the shaman was interested.
He lifted Charbonneau’s eyelids while Sacagawea explained what was wrong with him and how it had happened. The shaman frowned. “Bird Woman, I caution you against challenging this dragon wizard. He’s very powerful, both in our magic and that of the Europeans.” The older man lowered his eyes. “The dragon wizard did not start as a man. He might be Raven himself, in his trickster aspect, and he has taken over the body of a European. With the new magic, all the land responds to him. It will take more than you or your husband, or this man—” He glared at Meriwether. “—to make the dragon wizard give back your husband’s spirit, or his hold on this land.”
Sacagawea made a sound of protest, and after he heard the translation, Meriwether also spoke indignantly. “No shaman can just tell us to leave things be. I do not know if we can rescue Charbonneau, with your help, but I know it is incumbent upon us to try to fight that evil force. As his magic continues to grow, his depredations in the land will make your people starve.” He came closer to the shaman, looking him hard in the eye as Sacagawea translated. “Your greatest danger is not that my people will overrun these territories, but that this dragon sorcerer will destroy you and the entire land.”
The shaman seemed to deliberate. It impressed Meriwether that even though he clearly wasn’t fond of Europeans, the older man could consider the situation. After a long silence, the shaman turned to Sacagawea. “Do you believe what this man says? Do you think he is an honorable man?”
She did not hesitate. “Captain Lewis is an honorable man, and has rendered me great assistance. He saved me and my son on the night of his birth.” She hesitated a moment. “Also—”
Meriwether interjected. “I am connected to the dragon wizard, through dreams and through my own dragon spirit. I know the enemy’s mind.”
The shaman considered further, then slowly nodded. He explained what he knew of the evil force. “It might be Raven, or an aspect of Raven, but if so, Raven has lost his mind. Our legends tell us that Raven can be cruel and visit death upon us all. The mind that inhabits the dragon sorcerer is not a sane mind, and not a benevolent one. Maybe its anger started because it was irate over the strangers in the land, but it now despises everyone in the land. You know how many camps it has destroyed with fire, how many men and women it has killed and then used as his slaves.”
The shaman was silent a long time, scratching at his chin and looking now and again at Meriwether and then at the motionless form of Charbonneau. Then he gave instructions to Sacagawea in a rapid-fire barrage and left the grass shelter.
Sacagawea bent over her husband, but she spoke to Meriwether. “The shaman says to light a special fire, and he will do a rare invocation to see if he can divine what happened to Toussaint and how it might be put right. Come with me.”
Outside, away from the normal cooking fires of the village, they followed the shaman and helped him build a fire. He scuttled into his tent to change into a different garment, while Meriwether and Sacagawea went to bring her husband’s litter, laying him by the ceremonial fire. Charbonneau remained insensible.
When the shaman came out, he wore a mask made of the head of a coyote and a robe made of many pelts of the same animal.
“Coyote and Raven are friends, at least most of the time,” Sacagawea explained, though she sounded dubious. “And they are at the same level of power. This will allow Dosabite to use Coyote’s power to learn if it’s Raven who has possessed the dragon sorcerer. He will also learn what happened to my husband and how we can help him.”
With a stick, the shaman had drawn a wide circle in the dirt, and he indicated for Sacagawea to stay inside with him, near her husband, while Meriwether must remain outside.
He obeyed, though he remained tense, ready to rescue Sacagawea should she need him.
Dosabite threw a handful of dry black leaves on the fire, producing acrid smoke that made Meriwether cough and step away. When he recovered his composure, Sacagawea remained standing, very still, inside the circle. The shaman began dancing, a sort of shuffling dance along the circle, singing in a low and hypnotic voice while waving a rattle down near his feet, then at the level of his head.
The pungent smoke swirled into the sunset sky like a dark smudge against the blues and reds. Meriwether thought he saw movement of a different kind against the sky. Alarmed, he waited to see dragon wings, but he saw nothing. He blinked, dizzy.
Then came a sound like a million shrill screams, and a black cloud of ravens appeared from nowhere, cawing and swooping in a tight spiral around the guardian circle Dosabite had drawn. Meriwether lifted his arm to shield his face from the black flurry, felt his breath catch in his throat. But unlike the previous encounter at Tavern Rock, the ravens ignored him.
He watched as the shaman let out a scream, then collapsed to the ground, barely missing the smoky ceremonial fire. The ravens dispersed, flying off in all directions, like shots fired from multiple guns.
The abrupt silence in the absence of ravens and chants was deafening, and gradually the natural sounds of the sunset camp filtered back into his hearing. He heard distant conversations in the village, Cameahwait and the expedition members.
Meriwether noticed that the smoke from the central fire was rising toward him, but stopped inside the circle, as if it hit a glass barrier. The shaman lay on the ground, not stirring.
Within the protective line, Sacagawea stood by her prone husband, waiting. Her posture and expression showed that she was scared.