The Visitant: Book I of the Anasazi Mysteries by W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O’Neal Gear Read Free Book Online Page B

First People had always been human.
    Catkin closed her fingers around the turquoise wolf. All of the First People were dead. Their legendary palaces lay in ruins. Their precious knowledge had turned to dust.
    Except for stories. Glorious, unbelievable stories.
    Because the First People had climbed through the underworlds, it was said that they possessed a secret knowledge of those worlds that the Made People did not. They had sold that knowledge for a price. From generation to generation, they whispered about the trip through the underworlds, the traps laid by the monsters who haunted the roads, and the landmarks that guided souls along the right path. And sometimes, for special, chosen seekers, they provided a turquoise wolf Spirit Helper to guide them on their way.
    Catkin opened her palm and stared at it. The workmanship was magnificent. The wolf had her muzzle up, howling. Catkin said, “Do you think—”
    “It can’t be anything else,” Browser answered. “That kind of work takes a master. A person who has spent all of his life carving and grinding turquoise. No one today can work turquoise like that.”
    He held out his hand, and Catkin reluctantly dropped the wolf into his palm.
    Catkin’s fingers tingled, as if the wolf had left a trace of Power on her skin. “Blessed Spirits,” she whispered. “Do you know what someone would do to possess that wolf? The First People and their secret knowledge of the underworlds might be gone, but who needs it when they have a personal Spirit Helper to lead the way?”
    Browser held the wolf out to the sunlight, and watched the
light shimmer off the polished turquoise. “The killer must have dropped it.”
    “The killer?” She shook her head. “Why? It is more likely that it was dropped long ago by one of the First People who lived here.”
    Browser reached down and lifted a red feather. “It was laying on top of this, Catkin.” Wind Baby tugged the feather out of his hand, and it pirouetted through the air, rising higher and higher until she lost sight of it.
    Catkin scrutinized the spot where the feather had rested. The faint outline of something pressed into the sand. She said, “What’s this?” and drew the odd arcing shape in the air above the impression.
    Browser’s eyes widened. He leaned forward. “Perhaps part of a heel mark? The sand around the fire pit has thawed. It is the only place we might find such a print.”
    She frowned. “If it is a heel print, he was a big man.” She put her hand down, and the impression stretched from her wrist to the tip of her little finger. “A big, heavy man.”
    Browser nodded. “Yes.”
    “Big enough to fit into the clothing your wife was dressed in?”
    They both turned when Flame Carrier and Springbank left the burial pit, taking the onlookers back to Talon Town with them.
    Catkin stared at Browser’s hand where he held the wolf. “If anyone today possessed such a wolf, he would be famous. I have never heard of such a person.”
    “Nor have I,” he said through a long exhalation. Browser massaged his forehead as though a headache pounded behind his eyes. “Which means either the murderer found it recently, or the First People are not gone.”
    Catkin shifted. “But no one has seen one of the First People for more than fifty sun cycles, Browser.”
    Browser tucked the wolf into his belt pouch, and stood. “Maybe. Maybe we see them everyday, and do not know it, because they do not claim the privilege.”
    “So they may be hiding among us?”
    “Perhaps.”
    Instinctively, her gaze shot upward, searching the sky for the pinyon jays she’d seen earlier. Perhaps that’s how they’d done it.
The last surviving First People had turned themselves into witches and moved unnoticed through the Made People.
    “Catkin?” Browser said. “Tell no one about the turquoise wolf. When the time comes, I will speak of it. Do you understand? If anyone knew of this discovery, there would be a war over who should possess