The two monster lizards lay entangled, struggling. Meriwether and York stood together and peppered them with shots, while several others from the war party reloaded, then joined in the fire. After numerous shots, the giant reptiles trembled and began to exude an awful smell. Then, with a great shuddering noise, the monsters vanished, leaving only dirty, dried bones in their places.
The civilized metal of their bullets did have the desired effect, he realized, but for powerful revenants such as those, the quantity needed to dispel them was great.
Meriwether looked around for Coyote and found the shaman bent over the edge of the cliff, sniffing the canyon. He shook his head. His voice carried quite clearly in the sudden silence when the gunfire stopped. “That was an easy trap. Raven is just testing us.”
He gestured for them to follow along the top of the canyon, picking his way. “We will go this direction until we reach the bridge.”
Meriwether could see a bridge spanning the canyon ahead, but he swore there had been no bridge before. They rode closer, approaching quickly. It wasn’t a simple bridge of fallen logs, as someone might make for a temporary passage. This was a fully covered wooden bridge, with tall sides and a roof, the sort of covered bridge he’d seen in old settlements in the east.
He stopped his horse as they reached the bridge. But he hesitated before getting on, glancing at Sacagawea, who seemed confident. His horse snorted. Coyote didn’t seem at all alarmed, though, as he strode forward through the covered bridge.
Meriwether guessed this was Coyote’s magic, a way for them to pass not only from one side of the canyon to the other, but also perhaps from one reality to another. He rode forward, and the others followed. The bridge held, steady and solid until they had crossed.
The path ahead cut through a flat, high landscape, and they set off, making good speed. When Meriwether looked back, though, both bridge and canyon were gone, like dreams that vanish in the morning.
Another Way In
They stopped and watered their horses at a stream that meandered through a convenient field of high, sweet grass. The oasis seemed entirely out of place in the high, bleak plateau, and Meriwether caught Coyote’s eye. The shaman said, in clear English, “The horses needed fodder and rest.” Dosabite could not speak English at all, but now the Coyote spirit within him spoke with the Queen’s own accent.
“So you…conjured it?” Meriwether asked.
“I had to. This is my land you cross through. I am your host and I owe you hospitality.”
Meriwether expressed his thanks, then shook his head. “I don’t understand why you threw in with us at all.” He still couldn’t be certain of the trickster’s loyalties, or the shaman himself. “Shouldn’t you prefer to have no Europeans on your land?”
Coyote cackled, a distinctly unpleasant sound, holding more amusement than malice. “Where would you go? This continent has been sundered from the rest of the world. Should I wish for you all to leave regardless?” He grinned, displaying a mouthful of sharp teeth, and his golden eyes sparkled in the holes of the coyote mask. “I know Dosabite feels this way, but he’s only human. He does not comprehend the…opportunities of this situation. The ways of your people are very different from ours, and sometimes alarming. You have different hair and different skin, but the part here—” He touched Meriwether’s head with a finger that seemed to have claws, then touched the center of his chest. “And here. Those parts are all the same. Humans of all sorts have worshipped me in the past, in my own different forms. In the far long ago all humans were once a tribe. Why would I kill those who can bring me their power and their strength?”
“I doubt my people will want to worship you,” Meriwether said. “We have our own God and our own religion. Or religions.” He thought of Father Avenir, the papists who survived here in the new world, as well as any number of Protestant variations.
Coyote cackled. “It won’t happen all at once, of course. Maybe it can’t be done at all. But now that the magic has returned here, and the world has changed forever, who knows what will happen? Someday, in the time of the great-great-grandchildren, they will remember me and worship me. I have lived since before humans came. I can wait.” Now the grin acquired a bit of malice. “Even so, here you are helping me solve this small dispute with my friend Raven.”
His suspicion rose again. He called the evil dragon sorcerer his friend? “Only because Raven has chosen to set himself against us. He has tried to stop us and kill us repeatedly. We would fight Raven, with or without you.”
“Remember, our adversary is not merely Raven. In his anger, he took on more than he should, and it has addled his mind.” Coyote nodded slowly. “I consider this a mission of mercy.”
*
On the perfect, lush terrain of the magically created oasis, Meriwether lay down in the meadow grass near the chuckling stream. It was strange to think that although they were in such an odd place, and at the mercy of an ancient creature who called himself a god, still they had to camp and rest, just like any other part of the original expedition. After posting two sentinels, the rest of them took the opportunity to go to sleep. Meriwether woke just after midnight and roused York so that they both took their turn at the watch.
The rest of the camp slept, feeling unusually safe, but while Meriwether and York patrolled the area, following the stream, they heard a loud splash. A snakelike form the length of an oar leaped out of the water, arced its body, then dove back into the current. It had a triangular head surrounded by a crown of frills, coppery red against its olive-colored body.
The two men raised their rifles, stared at the dark surface of the narrow river, but the creature didn’t reappear. “That was a huge snake, Captain!” York whispered, surprised that the rest of the camp hadn’t jumped from their blankets and sounded the alarm.
“Or a very small sea serpent,” he said. “There’s no telling what we will find in these lands.”
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. The next morning they again breakfasted well, taking advantage of the plentiful water. When Coyote was ready, he set off again.
At midmorning, a sudden flock of ravens appeared in the sky, so many that they obscured the sun. The war party shaded their eyes, pointing in alarm. Some drew their weapons, though Meriwether could see that even among all the packs they would not have sufficient ammunition to diminish the enormous flock. But the ravens did not swoop down to attack, merely flew high overhead, an ominous cloud that eventually passed.
“They are spying on us,” Sacagawea said, simply stating a fact. Her voice held a fatalistic tone.
Growing more nervous every minute, looking at the sky, Meriwether kept his air rifle at the ready. He urged his horse forward, making his way to the front of the cavalcade, where he could speak to Coyote. “Obviously Raven knows we are coming. Why hasn’t he sent his dragon-form against us? Surely that is next?”
Coyote looked into the distance and shook his head. “Not here. This is my land, and we are safe. The only thing he can do here is send his ravens to spy on us. We’ll sleep in my home tonight, and then we can talk about the dangers.” He paused. “We need to find how to get you and the bird woman into Raven’s home…the dragon’s home.”
Meriwether took little comfort in that. He followed the shaman quietly, but kept looking at the sky, clutching his rifle.
They traveled for the day without incident, and Coyote finally led them between two pillars of stone, like a strange gateway. When the horses passed single file between those pillars, the war party suddenly found themselves in a land of soft grass. Songbirds wheeled overhead, unthreatening.