Prologue:
The Banner of the Cross
They were called the Pranazin, a name they took in honour of the princess who once tried to warn her king, doom was coming to their land under the banner of the cross.
Carried by bearded men who wore metal casques above their brows, they would come in great ships, bringing to the Faithful, the end of the world. They would cross Teoatl, the vast water surrounding the world, from distant lands with ways so alien, the Faithful would be helpless to fight this impending storm. She had begged for him to listen, to take care and not accept the words of these strangers as a truth to be believed.
Her brother and her king did not listen.
Despite being a good ruler, he was a man of superstition and she, even if she was his sister and of his bloodline, was just a woman. He had more faith in the seers and high priests at his court than he did in her vision so she could do nothing but watch and pray that when the time came, he would know the danger and protect them. For it was not only their people who were threatened by the banner of the cross, but all the peoples of the land. From the diminishing Mayans to the distant Incas, the cross threatened not just the Mexica but every last one of them.
Yet when they came, her brother had welcomed them with open arms.
He believed they were the emissaries of the serpent god Quetzalcoatl or Pahana, the lost white brother. While he saw deliverers, she saw destroyers. No matter how much she tried to convince him, the demon Cortez had worked his words of deception into her king's mind and she knew there would be no stopping the horror she had seen in her dreams.
Before the tendrils of ruin grasped them too tightly in its death grip, she decided to act before it was too late. Defying her brother and king because she knew he would listen to her no more, she walked away from the great city of Tenochtitlan, leaving behind its riches, having no wish to see its inevitable destruction. Leaving the city with a handful of the Faithful, they crept out in secret, under the cover of dark to flee the vile banner of the cross she was convinced was the symbol of death.
Abandoning their homeland, they journeyed north into terrain that were nowhere as lush and green as the lands they knew, where rain was scarce and the ground was hard like rock. The people they encountered were primitive in comparison to the races they had known before. They lived like nomads and built no great cities like Tenochtitlan, Texcoco and Tlacopan, nor did they take kindly to trespassers.
In the ensuing battles, many of the Faithful were lost until finally, they were driven beneath the earth, forced to hide not only from the people whose lands they invaded, but also because the curse of the cross was never far behind. In the years to come, the cross would chase them into the new lands, until even those whose home this was, fell prey to them as surely as the Mexica. In the end, there was only one truth left to comprehend.
There was nowhere to run that the cross would not find them.
Finding solace in the deep places of the world, the Faithful continued to remain concealed in the darkness, thriving in the black even after she was gone. In her absence, they continued their worship of the old gods supplanted by the cross and bore great hatred for those who had stolen their lands from them. In time, they would emerge into the light and if the Faithful encountered the enemy, the soil upon which they stood would run red with blood.
The Faithful did not forget.
For the three hundred years, the plague of the cross spread across the land, until its power to encompass the world was all but complete, the Faithful hid in the shadows. Shaped by an existence in the dark, their veneer of civilization excoriated in the wake of extreme hunger, hatred and rage, they had become something far removed from the refugees fleeing a once great empire.
They had become nightmares.
Her name was Heather and she was six years old.
She knew she shouldn't be awake but tucked under the covers beneath the shelter of the canvas, trying to sleep had been unbearable to her child's mind. Even though Jenna told her she needed her rest, Heather could not sleep. She felt hot and uncomfortable, not liking the dry, raspy heat that seemed to blow over this land, even at night. She saw shadows of the other homesteaders walking by the wagon, the light from their campfires making their silhouettes long and spindly like wraiths. Heather couldn't deny they scared her a little.
Her sister Jenna wasn't able to sleep either. Jenna with her long dark hair, was in her white night dress, sitting at the edge of the wagon, staring into the moonlight sky, her lovely frame illuminated by its bluish light. Heather adored Jenna, who was sweet and kind, who didn't tease her and call her a baby, like she had seen other big sisters do. Momma had gone to heaven two summers earlier and since then Jenna had taken her place, making sure Heather didn't miss her too much even though the young girl looked into her sister's eyes and saw that sometimes, Jenna missed momma too but hid it.
"Can't you sleep neither, Jennie?" Heather broke the silence once the shadow of whom she was certain was Barney Stoner walking past their wagon, vanished.
Jenna smiled hearing the nickname, she often did when it was used by Heather, whom she sometimes called Feather, because the girl was so little for her age, she was light as a feather. Before she died, only momma used to call her Jennie and when Heather did the same it reminded Jenna of happier times and the woman who made it so.
"It's too hot," Jenna sighed, thinking about the creek nearby and wishing she could run and soak in it for hours. It wasn't safe to leave the camp she thought with disappointment as she looked up at the jagged line of mountains in the distance, watching over them like disapproving overseers of the land.
Jenna missed the city they had come from but daddy had wanted a new start after momma had passed and for some reason, he chose the Territory to make his claim for land instead of nicer places like Kansas or Oregon. Less competition, he said. Jenna didn't quite understand what he meant but if it would keep him from getting soaked in liquor every night from missing momma, she could tolerate it.
She heard shifting beside her and saw Heather climb out from under the blankets of their sleeping place and padded silently next to her. Heather was so small, she hardly made a sound against the buckboards as she crept up to Jenna. If there was one bright spot in Jenna's life, it was caring for her baby sister. Heather wasn't a difficult child, nor did she give Jenna a lick of trouble. Momma had raised them right and even though she was still young, on Heather it showed.
Heather sidled up to Jenna and even though it was hot, Jenna wrapped an arm around her and cuddled her as they both watched the stars above. If nothing else, the skies in this part of the country were so clear, you felt you could reach out and just pluck one out of the sky. Keep it in your pocket and carry a piece of heaven with you everywhere.
"You think daddy is going to be okay once we get to the new place?" Heather asked her.
"I hope so," Jenna smiled and kissed the top of her head gently.
"He's so sad." The little girl whispered softly.
"He misses her Feather," Jenna replied, remembering how when daddy came home from the factory, the first thing he'd do after saying hello to his girls, was ask momma if she was ready for the dance. They'd laugh quietly at the private joke they never shared with their daughters before exchanging a kiss. Until the day she died, which was closer than she knew, it was Jenna's fondest memory of her parents.
"I miss her," Heather sniffled, remembering warm hugs and the smell of fresh baked bread in the dingy apartment they lived.
"Me too," Jenna said with a bittersweet smile, noticing the pout on her sister's lips and hated it being there. "Come on, we're going for a swim."
"But daddy said it's dangerous out there in the dark," Heather pointed out, her youthful face wrinkling with concern.
"We won't be gone for long," Jenna stood up. Her father and the rest of the men were gathered around the campfire, either keeping watch or exchanging stories about their futures when they made their claims. "Don't worry," she smiled at her little sister. "We'll cool down and come right back."
The creek wasn't very deep but it was enough for Heather to get wet all the way to her shoulders. Their night dresses rested against a boulder pushing through the pebbled shore, and though daddy would be madder than hell if he found them like this, Heather didn't care. They were laughing and enjoying the water so much, this momentary bliss was worth risking his anger. Still, they were mindful of how much time they were away. At some point daddy would return to the wagon to sleep and for sure he'd check on them.
They were still laughing and splashing when they heard the scream.
It tore the night in half, the way one would rip paper apart. Both Jenna and Heather exchanged shocked glances, frozen for a second by the abrupt end to their stolen moment of play. The scream was followed by a chaotic collision of panicked voices, bouncing against each other as some hidden menace revealed itself to the horror of all.
"Come on!" Jenna didn't waste time and swept up Heather into her arms, not prepared to wait for her sister to collect herself as she started moving towards the shore, splashing loudly.
"What's going on?"" Heather whined fearfully, unable to see what was happening. The camp was just over the small hill in front of them but they could see nothing of what was causing the sudden outbreak of terrified voices.
"I don't know," Jenna said still carrying her when they reached the shore. She set down the little girl and grabbed the night dress she had lain on the knee-high boulder, slipping the white fabric over her slick, wet skin. "I'm gonna look. You stay here."
"No Jennie..." Heather started to protest, now terrified for their own welfare after hearing what was going on beyond the hill. There were no sounds of gunfire, just screaming, from not just the women but now also the men.
"I'm not going far," Jenna assured her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I'm just going to see what's happening okay?
"No..." Heather shook her head, shuddering with each new shriek.
"Feather, I need to go!" Jenna insisted, knowing she couldn't linger. She needed to see what was occurring to assess the situation and get Heather as far away from here as possible, if it warranted it. She knew that daddy and the men of the wagon train had spoken about Apache being in the area but they hadn't seen any of the kind in the last two days. In fact, now that Jenna thought about it, they hadn't seen anyone at all since they came into the view of the mountain in front of them. "I promise, I'll be right back."
Before Heather could say any more, Jenna broke away and ran towards the hill, barefoot. Her night dress still clinging to her teenager's body and fluttered in the wind as she moved. Jenna kept her head low, taking advantage of the bushes and overgrown weeds covering the slope, her own fear finally surfacing. There were sounds, terrible, guttural sounds that she'd not noticed before because the screaming had masked it, like the snuffling of animal guzzling down food. It made her stomach knot in revulsion.
Did a bear or a coyote get loose in the camp? Couldn't be, her mind rejected the idea almost immediately. The men would have shot dead an animal before it could cause the terror she was hearing in the camp. Getting onto her hands and knees as she reached the edge, Jenna glanced over her shoulder and could see Heather still waiting by the shore, her small face etched in fear.
Facing the campfire again, Jenna's eyes widened and what she saw gripped her mind with so much terror, she didn't even realise it when she started to scream.
