Read Online Norton, Andre - Anthology by Baleful Beasts (and Eerie Creatures) (v1.0) - Free Book Online Page A

along!"
                   Yes, that's me— Tigger —the
best blaster on the spaceship Condor!
     
     

The Spell
of Spirit Stones
     
by ALICE WELLMAN
     
                 Though we had entered
the forest only ten minutes before, the branches of the great trees locked in a
dark roof above us, and ropy vines twisted down to block our path. I clung to Jinell's hand as if I were six instead of way past twelve. Each
step drew us deeper into the forest's green mouth.
                 I said, "Let's
go back. This wasn't such a good idea—"
                 "No," Jinell said firmly. "You beg me to go. We go."
                 Her face had set into
grim lines, and her eyes held a strange glitter.
                 She was right about
my begging to visit her home village. Dad had driven off that morning, headed
for a two-day conference with the other scientists of his group. The
    American foundation that sponsored Dad's research project in the Pakaraima Highlands of Guyana required quarterly reports on the findings.
I waved to Dad until the jeep was
    out of sight, then I ran to find Jinell . She was
doing the wash behind our camp home.
                 "Come on, Jinell .
You can wash tomorrow. This is a great chance for you to visit your
people."
                   She wiped her perspiring face on her sleeve.
"No, Nan- cee . Your father said I should keep both
eyes on you while he is gone. We do not go off this place."
                   "But you promised. You said you must see
your brother before the snow lies white on the mountains. And the last time Dad
went, you said you'd take me the next time he had to leave."
                   I knew I was being unfair to remind Jinell of her promises. They had been the
when-peace-covers-my-people-we-go-Nan- cee kind. But
to the Akawai Indians a promise was a bond, an
unbreakable bond.
                   Jinell sighed. She
stuck the wash into the soak water and faced me. "We go now. Dress for
rough walking. This is a time for strong steps and eyes wide open."
                   It didn't take long for me to pull on my thick
denim slacks, mosquito boots, and a long-sleeved plaid blouse. I hurried to
meet Jinell in front of the house, but stopped short,
amazed by the sight of an alien and startling apparition before me—a Jinell I didn't know. Cloth of brilliant stripes hugged her
hips, her honey-tan body nude above it, with half-moon breasts nearly hidden by
strands of shells and red berries. Bands of glistening green-gold beetle wings
wound about her upper arms, and iridescent tree bark dangled from her ears and
dark curling hair. She was beautiful.
                   "I leave my people a shaman, and I return
to them a shaman," she said, pointing to the sling of jaguar skin hanging
from her shoulder. "We do not go without my spirit powers—my powers as el tigre ."
                   The Jinell I knew
was pretty but she had always worn the shapeless dresses the Waramadong Mission supplied to their Indian students. The
mission served all Amerindian settlements of this part of the Amazon forest
highlands, and we first arrived at the house near the Kamarang River . "Be good to my little girl," Dad
had said. " Nancy has no one but me to care for her." And Jinell was good to me, very good.
                   It was slow going through the forest now. The
ground was spongy and a spatter of heavy dew fell on us. "The forest
weeps," Jinell said. "It weeps for
me."
                   She walked proudly with long sure steps I had
difficulty matching. I'd always hated being small, pale, and blond, and when
forest vines caught my long hair, I wished I had tied it up. But I didn't let
that slow my pace.
                   " Jinell , why
did you become a shaman if you didn't want to stay with your people?" I
looked up at her forbidding face.