Chapter10: The Chief's Tale

Meanwhile in the cavern walls

Grace awoke to find her four legs all tied up around a thick long spit which was being carried by strange bare-chested men in dark braided hair with paintings on their bodies. A few other strange men followed behind. Grace remembered the painting on the walls showing something like this. It was her on there after all! But how is it possible?

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, hoping for a simple answer. The mystery men kept on going without answering as they paraded her through the painted cavern walls to an opening. "Look whatever the reason for tying me up like this, I'm sorry but I don't have much time. I have a mansion to get to!"

"SHHH!" one warrior put his finger to his lips.

In an unknown place

She found them leading her to an area filled with pointed triangular houses, sharp pointed objects, and other strange people dressed in what looked to be animal clothing. They seemed to have been busy making equipment until they watched with curiosity as the warriors pushed Grace forward. To her surrounding, some of the red-skinned people wore large gold earrings, beaded necklaces, long leathered blankets covering their shoulders, and feathers sticking out of their long dark hair. Others had been drawing out these strange images in the soft ground while one warrior smoked the strangest pipe Grace had ever seen. The smoke clouds formed a sort of symbol signaling something or another. Grace looked up and saw an opening crevice above the caverns. The sky had turned into dusk with stars twinkling after another. Grace began to get scared when the people still kept staring at her as if she were an enemy of theirs; enemies she might have never heard of. Even if she did, she was certainly not one of them. What else frightened her was the thunderous beating of drums building higher and higher as she watched a wide circle of warriors banging their instruments.

"Please don't tell me you're planning on eating me or whatever," Grace whimpered as the warriors were now leading her to a pile of kindling firewood placed in the center of the wide circle. She sighed and looked at the firewood. This is all thanks to her stepping into that circle of carved decorated rocks disturbing some ancient spirits in their resting place. Now she tied up like a turkey (like in the painting) hanging over a pile of firewood, waiting for who knows what else to happen. She only had herself to blame for this mess. Now it was too late to fix what she had done.

Grace listened as the drums beat slower and slower. Out of a tent, there popped a big wrinkled faced man with a painted face, small angry brown eyes, black pointed eyebrows and a long slender wrinkled mouth. On his head he wore a familiar grand feathered headdress, a pair of moccasins and a beaded shawl mixed with the colors of red, orange, and brown. The beating of the drums came to a stop when the man approached the intruder tied on the spit.

"Howdy…partner," Grace could not think of any other way to react to this strange man, other than give a friendly greeting. The man stared madly down at her with his arms folded across his chest. Instead of returning her greeting, he sketched his hand in the air.

"Many centuries ago, we the Sioux tribe have lived on and respected this land with peace, harmony, guidance, and wisdom in caring for all of the beauty Mother Nature has built. We had once lived high above the caverns where we would have the stars to guide us wherever we were. That is until we were driven off our land by the greed of the white men along with their implements of destruction. We had fought back, but their numbers had been far greater than our own. After that, many of us were killed and we had no where else to go, and no other choice but to hide in here. It was never easy starting a new life in hiding from a world which we were no longer welcomed into. Now we are a tribe long forgotten possibly by time; but even in death, we had hoped no man or animal not of ours would discover our hideout. And because this ground is sacred, no evil spirits have dared to enter here."

Grace thought of the two shape shifters who were in the form of her two best friends preparing to suck out her soul. That must have been why they had flown away. As long as she was in here, they would not harm her; but what about the chief standing before her? Her weak smile faded.

"But you outsider, should have thought twice before stepping foot on our resting ground to take something not of yours." A warrior in a pair of leather pants and moccasins walked toward with a torch in his right hand.

"Wait a minute, what does me having to enter your cavern have to do with your sad story? I haven't taken anything from you, really I haven't!" Grace cried in a panicked tone. The chief snatched the feather from behind her ear and placed it back in his headdress to fill a missing spot. Grace felt herself blush with embarrassment and foolishness. That wasn't a birds missing feather she carried, it was a piece of the headdress from that…tombstone! Grace gasped in shock which must have meant…

"It is I Chief Thunder Cloud to whom you speak before!" The chief grunted in a high tone. "The paintings on the cavern walls represent a warning to intruders: if one should ever disturb these resting grounds, shall be punished by flame!" Ounces of sweat began pouring down the bovine's fearful face; which meant they were going to set the wood on fire underneath her. "You have no place among us or our sacred animals. You are an outsider and have been brought over here by those who have stripped us of our land, invaded our shores, leaving us to hide in this cavern for all eternity!" He pointed his arm at the pile of firewood to signal for it to be lit. The warrior prepared to light it with the torch in his right hand.

"No wait, you got it all wrong! I didn't mean to steal anything from you, honest!" The torch was just seconds away from lighting a fire beneath her. "I only came in here because I…I…I was at first brought into this world by the powers of a witch named Callie!" The tribe looked up and gasped in astonishment. Thunder Cloud motioned for the warrior to hold the fire away from the pile.

"What was that name you said?" he asked as if he knew what she was talking about. Grace became confused for a moment trying to think of what else to say in her defense.

"I mean to say that I am on my way to see a witch named Callie. You see my friends are…"

"No living mortal has ever dared to negotiate with the witch known as Callie!" Thunder Cloud interrupted madly. "Why do you seek her?" Grace looked at him with anger fed up with the chief's grudge with the white men and her. She was also getting tired of being asked the same questions over and over.

"Look Chief Thunderstorm or whatever, I have two friends who are under a spell, and I have face too many dangers of walking pumpkins, evil trees, hungry coyotes, outrunning a giant spider and her ugly children, and I had to cross a gator infested swamp to reach the desert all for the sake of my friends! And now you're going to burn me because of something that happened long ago when I never had anything to do with it in the first place? I just want to help my friends and…get back home; they're counting on me," Her anger disappeared and was replaced with sorrow as she cried her heart out. Seeing the tears fall from her eyes, Chief Thunder Cloud was stunned from her outburst. He hardly ever remembered listening to someone talk like that when he was still alive. His tribe was just as stunned as he was and looked at him questionably. In his heart, he knew what they might want to ask if what they were doing was wrong. He looked at the warrior with the same lighted torch awaiting an order of whether to light a fire or not. Rubbing his forehead, his mind filled with concerned thoughts like no other as he walked closer to Grace whose cheeks were now tearstained. She was unable to feel him place his finger under her eyelid waiting for another tear to drop.

"You have shown deep anger and sorrow through these tears you cry," The chief declared as he studied the teardrop on his fingertip. "You are still an outsider to this tribe, yet you possess a strong spirit inside; something we have seen no other outsider show during captivity. We had witnessed many of them accept their faith through the flame which you still hang above. We were angry at what happened before, but perhaps we are no better than the white men by nearly sending you to an unjust death. And we might as well have angered the spirits ourselves through this whole ridiculous ceremony." Grace choked on a few more sobs when she listened to his speech. She had at least expected him to raise his voice to her when she expressed her emotions. But there was one more question.

"Forgive me, but how do you know about Callie? Have you met her yourself?" she asked with a sniffle. The chief nodded his head in response.

"Yes, but me and my tribe have never seen her reveal her true identity. She was in the form as a member of the tribe. Once she had tried to gain control of our land, but the spirits powers were much too sacred and could never be used for evil. I was able to cast her out of here and use the powers of the ancient spirits to protect our nation from all that is evil. Her real form is still unknown to this day and we may as well never know about it, unless one of us dares to leave this cavern. She can take on any form, and if you still dare to seek her out, she may be awaiting in a form you do not wish to see." Chief Thunder Cloud's words were wise and true enough for good advice. The tribe looked at their chief awaiting to hear his next words.

"Release the prisoner!" the warrior next to him extinguished the flame in his hand and walked beside another warrior to pull the spit away from the wood pile and cut the bonds from each of Grace's ankles. Because the ropes felt tight enough to make her feel as if they were cutting deep into her skin, she rubbed them a bit with one hoof.

"Forgive us before, but even if the witches have shown no interest in coming here no more, there is still much greater evil out there and we must do what we have to by staying here and not leave this place unprotected. That is our only duty, just as yours is to help your friends through facing greater peril. Follow me and my warriors; we shall point the way."

Grace followed them through another cavern of painted images. Although the images were well drawn, she still didn't understand their meaning too well. Perhaps the images must have something to do with a history of this lost and forgotten tribe. Then again, it might as well be not for her to know about. Finally the chief and his warriors lead her to an opening outside on a plateau, which was not too high for her to climb down.

"Follow the path up ahead," Chief Thunder Cloud advised pointing his finger on the trail leading to an area covered in gray clouds. That would be her final destination as labeled on the map: Shadow Cemetery. Grace gulped wiping sweat from her forehead. Who knows what might be lurking over in that place?

"Do not be afraid outsider," Thunder Cloud advised. "The light crystal which you carry will keep the dark shadow creatures from harming you. The light is what they fear most of all." Grace gazed down at the mineral around her neck and thanked the chief for his help and for letting her go. "Before you leave, you must promise to tell no one of this place or where you have been, understand?" Grace nodded in response and thanked him once again before climbing down the plateau and back on the trail. The tribe watched her from high above the plateau until her shadow disappeared into the distance. It was a wise decision to let her go since she had done no further harm to their place other than take a simple feather from the chief's headdress, thinking that some other bird might have dropped it. But he had other thoughts about what he and his tribe shall do unless another outsider is to disturb their sacred resting place.

Meanwhile elsewhere

"So the Sioux tribe has let her go and now she still walks," a raspy voice spoke with a British accent. "Never mind about them, I never wanted anything to do with their culture in the first place; too sacred and pure for me to handle, Millicent!" a thin figure rushed in the darkness to assist.

"What is it my Mistress?" Millicent spoke panting.

"I need you to track down this bovine and see what else you find about her. She is becoming a pest to this world and in finding me for a hard bargain.

"It seems the enchanted hay didn't affect her for much longer my Mistress," said Millicent in a croaking voice.

"JUST FOLLOW HER NOW!" the thin figure rushed out of the dark room in search of the bovine.