armload of wood she was carrying was awkward and heavy, but she lengthened her stride, guided by the light in the darkness and the man silhouetted before it.
She blinked, and when she looked again he was gone. She heard the sound of footsteps then he was before her; taking the burden she’d been carrying. She relinquished the limbs gladly, but winced as a stray limb caught against the back of her healing arm.
He heard her gasp.
“You are hurt?”
“It’s nothing, and it’s getting cold.”
“You go. I am behind you.”
She jogged toward the cave and the brightly burning fire. Once inside, she pulled her backpack closer to the fire and took off her shirt to inspect the healing wound on her arm. It stung from the new scratch, but nothing had burst open. She dug out the medicine she’d brought with her, spreading ointment down the length of the new scar. Keeping it supple would aid the healing, and there was too much at stake for her to get sick from infection.
Niyol was almost to the cave when he saw her kneel and take off her shirt. He stumbled, caught by the beauty of her body in the firelight and stopped to watch from the shadows, remembering she was his. By the time he came into the cave, she had put her shirt back on. He dumped the wood near the fire then walked up behind her. He ran a hand beneath her hair as he turned her to face him.
“You are hurt?”
“Just a slight scratch. It’s okay.”
He felt guilt, a human trait he did not enjoy.
“I am sorry you were given no time for proper healing.”
She slid her arms around his waist, willing herself not to weep.
“Time is my enemy,” she said softly. “The time will come when it will take you away from me.”
Pain rolled through him so fast her image blurred before his eyes. In sudden panic, he pulled her into his arms.
“Being human also hurts.”
Layla stifled a sob.
Somewhere beyond the cave a coyote yipped, and another answered nearby. They’d seen the fire. They’d sensed the human element in their midst. But like the dog in her grandfather’s village that had seen Niyol coming and run, the coyotes also sensed a being not of this world, giving him and the fire a wide berth.
Later, after they’d shared more jerky and water, Layla slipped out to go to the bathroom, feeling her way along the canyon wall until she was satisfied she’d gone far enough.
Squatting to relieve herself in such a place, and in this way, reminded her of her life back in Oklahoma when she had hunted the woods with her father. As a child she had been afraid of the dark, and yet she loved Jackson Birdsong so much that when he took his dogs out to hunt at night, she begged to go with him.
With no brothers or sisters, her parents had been her world, and her world grew smaller after her mother’s unexpected death at an early age. She and her father had cried together when it happened, and given no other options, faced life without her.
Halfway back to the cave she saw a streak of light up in the night sky and paused, watching as a shooting star sped across a dark palette awash with heavenly bodies.
Skywalker.
Layla turned. Suddenly Niyol was standing beside her and she hadn’t even heard him approach.
“You mean that’s not a shooting star?”
He shrugged. “It is what you call it, but with a passenger on board.”
Layla looked back up at the sky. “Always?”
He took her hand. “It is cold. Come back to the fire.”
“Which means you’re not going to answer my question, right?”
“Some things are best left unsaid.”
She let him lead her toward their camp, but her thoughts were tumbling one over the other. It was suddenly obvious how ignorant humans were, living in this world without thought for things unseen.
****
George Begay felt the same anguish he’d felt the night his Frances had died. He didn’t believe Layla was dead, but she would never be his granddaughter again. She’d been set up as a sacrifice, and at the same time,
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