Free Night of the Wolves by Heather Graham Page B

with them?” Cody asked.
    Tall Feather nodded gravely. “Many of our maidens were at the stream. They were set upon by the outlaws, and our young warriors heard them screaming and ran to save them. We killed several of their kind, but they killed one of my warriors, as well. He was buried in the caves, as is our custom. But soon after that, my daughter Gentle Doe, who had loved the warrior and awaited his payment of ponies for marriage, began to see him by night. Then, last week, Gentle Doe vanished into the darkness. I will not see her again.”
    Cody hesitated. “How do you know that?”
    Tall Feather offered a sorrowful smile. “We smoke the pipe, and the dreams and visions come to us, Cody Fox. We see what others cannot. My daughter is…dead. At least to me. This I know.” He hesitated. “Now I fear for another warrior, for he has been ill. He tells me that he has visions of my daughter. He fears to tell me the whole truth, but I believe that the vision attempts to seduce and lure him from his resting place.”
    Cody said, “I believe everything you have told me, and it fits with what I know of the evil terrorizing this land. The monsters must be found and routed out, and I believe you will understand my methods more than many a white man would. There are men like you and I who ride with those who are…diseased, because the diseased men need the help of those who are not tainted. But it’s often difficult to tell the difference between them. This is a Spirit World enemy, Chief Tall Feather. Brendan and I have brought you some new weapons that you and your men must use. We have stakes as sharp as spear points—and your own lances must be made equally sharp. A single bullet, even in the head or heart, will not kill the diseased men—or women—though many bullets or arrows will wound and weaken them. Once they have fallen, they must be destroyed completely. The head must be severed from the body, the heart cut from the chest. We have brought you army swords, to make this task easier for you, and knives that work just as well. It is not easy to sever the head from a body, but it is necessary. Also, the enemy may come in daylight, but they are far more powerful at sunset and by night.”
    The chief gave him no argument, simply nodded gravely.
    Cody hesitated, then went on. “When someone has…disappeared, he—or she—cannot just be welcomed back with open arms. You will know if they are…infected. Their eyes will be different. They may look perfectly normal otherwise, but their eyes will give them away. But when the infection is new, as it is…with any of your people, they will not know how to handle it. They will not be good at guile and pretense, and you will know they are not…as they were. Do you understand?”
    Tall Feather stood stiff and straight as, again, he nodded. Then he spoke.
    “An Apache warrior knows that he may die in battle, whatever that battle may be. A diseased warrior who fell in battle against evil will still be accorded the honor of one who fought well, even if he lost.”
    Cody was aware that someone else had come into the tepee. He turned and saw a young maiden in bleached white buckskin, her hair arranged in shiny black braids, bearing pottery cups. She dipped liquid from the pot above the fire.
    “I will accept your gifts, but first we will share a welcome drink,” Tall Feather said.
    “Thank you,” Cody told him gravely. He was anxious to get started, and worried about what might be in the pot. The Apache were not averse to hallucinogens.
    “There is more, Chief Tall Feather. You must take us to the grave of your fallen warrior.”
    Tall Feather frowned, about to argue.
    “Chief, we believe he may have been tainted. He will not be strong yet, but in time, he might taint your entire clan,” Brendan said gently.
    The young woman handed Cody a steaming cup. Hesmiled his thanks, and she blushed. “This smells like coffee,” he said.
    Tall Feather grinned. “It is coffee.