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remember?

I don’t believe in killing for sport. If I had to, I would, but I can get my

steak from the butcher faster than off the hoof.”
    “Papa, you have a guest,” Maggie interrupted probably in

time to prevent an argument on traditions.
    Joseph looked up, and his weather-worn face split into a

grin. “Professor Steele, I wasn’t expecting you.” He sobered. “I heard about

the drownings . I’m so sorry. I didn’t know the girl,

but I’ve met her uncle, and he’s a man of honor. Mayor Ron,” he said the word

as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, “says I have to speak to a coroner from

Toronto for permission to purify the lake.”
    “Thanks, Joseph. We’re all still in shock. Could I speak

with you in private? I’d like your help with a personal matter.”
    The old man looked at him with so much concentration Tony

felt as if he was looking inside him. After a few minutes, he nodded.
    “Come with me. Maggie, can you bring some willow bark tea.”
    “Aren’t you feeling well?”
    “No, daughter. It isn’t for me. The

professor’s head hurts.”
    “How did you know I had a headache?” Tony asked as soon as

they were alone the private audience chamber, reminiscent of a long house. The

walls were decorated in Mohawk motifs with the Peace Tree, symbol of the Mohawk

Confederacy, easily recognizable. There were animal symbols for the various

clans, with a large thunderbird dominating the others. Joseph’s family belonged

to the bear clan. Hanging on the far wall was Joseph’s formal eagle feather

headdress. Beside it hung his buckskins, and next to that his ceremonial ribbon

shirt. This place must be an office or

counselling chamber of some sort. Although Joseph wasn’t the tribe’s

shaman, as an elder he commanded respect, and his opinion was often sought by

others.
    “Would you believe me if I told you the spirits told me?”
    “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
    The old man sat in one of the two recliners and indicated

the other. Joseph had an air of peace about him unlike so many of the people

his age Tony knew at the university. Instead of being in a rush all the time,

striving to prove he was still effective, still worthy of his title, Joseph was

calm, satisfied with life. He wore jeans and a cowboy-styled chambray shirt in

dark green. His hair was long and white, braided the way the woman’s had been

in his dream. His face was as dark and wrinkled as old leather, testifying to

his years at work in the sun. In his younger days, Joseph had been a sky

walker, one of the Mohawks who worked on the New York City skyscrapers. He’d

worked on the World Trade Center and, like many others, despite his age, he’d gone to New York to help in the aftermath of

nine-eleven.
    “I think I’m losing my mind, Joseph.”
    “Tell me what’s been happening to you, my son. You may not

be Mohawk, but the Nanticoke Lenni -Lenape blood of your ancestors runs deep in your

veins.”
    Tony’s gaze jerked

away from his perusal of the room. He stared at Joseph.
    “How did you know

that? My family isn’t even certain it’s true. If I have any Native American

blood, it’s pretty diluted. According to family history, we had an ancestor who

was Nanticoke from North Carolina. He escaped to Canada with his brother during

the Revolutionary War.”
    The old man smiled

and nodded his head.
    “Your family spoke

the truth. The spirits talk to me. Now. Tell me why

you’re upset.” The command in the elder’s voice was subtle, but Tony heard it

and found himself relaying all the details of the strange things that had

happened to him since arriving at the resort.

 
 
 
    Chapter

Four

 
 
    Tony finished

relating the erotic dreams, nightmares, and visions of the woman walking along

the lake. Joseph nodded his head and pursed his lips. There wasn’t any sign of

surprise or incredulity on his face.
    “You came to the

lake as a child, did you not?”
    “I