There were disturbances around the edges of my dream space, but a discussion with Fubar had assured me that they were either the inexperienced or undisciplined students on the Dream Team who were curious about my bubble of dream space in the astral plane, or it was some nuisance astral creatures that wandered around. There _were_ some astral entities that might be dangerous, but after dealing with the snake demon, Fubar had no doubts that I could defend myself. Still, it was hard to focus on what Wakan Tanka was teaching me now that I was aware of the minor interferences.

"You are having trouble concentrating, Wihakayda," my teacher said unnecessarily.

"Yeah," I replied. "Last night was pretty ... intense."

"Yes, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka agreed. "But you did well. You used your magic wisely. You were concerned for your teammates as you battled."

"They're my friends," I said to justify my actions, not quite understanding what Wakan Tanka meant. "I couldn't let them get hurt."

"That is the trait of a warrior - defending his tepee and village and protecting them from harm," she said quickly to allay my concern that she disapproved. "But you are still troubled."

I nodded. "I still cannot fight boys," I explained. "I ... I can't."

"Wihakayda, you were once a boy," she said patiently. "Are you troubled by what you were, or by not knowing where you fit in?"

"You said I was accepting my female self," I countered quickly.

"Have you? Completely?" she asked with a weary smile. "And if you have, that doesn't eliminate your old self, your original spirit."

"My ... original ... spirit?"

"You cannot turn your back on your male spirit," Wakan Tanka explained. "It was your core being, and it is still present."

I shuddered. "But that means ...."

"There's nothing wrong with recognizing your two spirits. You are special to have two spirits." She began to brew some tea as she spoke. "In older times, before the white man and his religion, the People respected those with two spirits. Winkte, two-spirits, knew more of themselves than those with only one spirit."

"I don't understand," I replied. "What does it mean to have two spirits?"

"You are learning to accept your female spirit, who you are now," Wakan Tanka explained patiently. She paused to incant over the drink, and then handed me a gourd filled with the steaming beverage. "Even if at times you deny that part of you."

"You sound like my counselor," I said, frowning. "Hearing that once every day is enough."

"And yet you haven't taken the lesson to heart," Wakan Tanka smiled. "So we must repeat it until you accept what it means." She sipped from her own gourd. "But there is more to being winkte, two-spirits," she continued. "What has become of your male self, your man spirit?"

"It's ... gone," I answered hesitantly, confused.

"No, Wihakayda," she answered. "It is _not_. It is still part of you."

"But ... that part ... is like ...." I couldn't continue with the horrid thought. Boys with male spirits had violated me horribly. Did that mean my male spirit was capable of such brutality, too? That my male nature made me instinctively an animal, controlled only by a thin veneer of social rules?

"Your male spirit is part of you, and always will be. You cannot lose that which was part of you for so long." She sipped her tea again. "Why are you afraid of your male spirit?"

I lowered my gaze. "It ... it's ... that part ... scares me ... after what ... they did."

"What was done was _not_ because of their male spirits," Wakan Tanka said firmly. "When you were a boy, did you even _think_ of doing such a disgraceful, brutal thing?"

"No," I answered quickly. I had once been a little pushier with a girl than I should have been, but when she had said no, I'd stopped. The ... animals ... that attacked me hadn't.

"Your male spirit has the honor of the People," Wakan Tanka said with a smile. "I've watched you, and you always did credit to the ways and morals of your tribe."

"You ... watched me?"

"Of course, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said. "You were always destined to be the Ptesanwi."

"You mean, you chose me ... to do this?" I sputtered angrily.

"No, Wihakayda," she said easily. "You are of the blood line of the Ptesanwi. Your clan was destined to be the Ptesanwi again."

"And you're saying I'm ... winkte? And that's something special?"

"Winkte are gifted because they see both sides, male and female. Long ago, winkte were often visionaries and healers, medicine people and nannies. They were care-givers and interpreters of dreams."

"How can I have two spirits?"

"You have the male spirit, which you were born with. And you have the female spirit, which you were _reborn_ with."

"That's confusing. I should be one or the other."

"Is it a female spirit who learns to fight, or to work on the machines of the white man?" Wakan Tanka asked.

"There are many scientists and engineers who are women. And soldiers."

"You sometimes hide from your female spirit," Wakan Tanka said gently. "That is why you see the black deer in your dream world - it is telling you to accept and embrace your female side."

"I don't know _how_!" I cried in response. "I feel ... lost sometimes, caught between two worlds."

Wakan Tanka scooted beside me and pulled my head onto her shoulder, wrapping me in a comforting embrace. "I can't tell you how to do that," she said soothingly, "but I know you _can_ do it, if you want to."

* * * * * *

Crystal Hall, breakfast

"What'cha got?" the familiar voice called curiously over my shoulder.

I turned, groaning; across the table from me, Laurie and Naomi smirked. "Morning, Pally," I said without enthusiasm. As expected, Abra and Clover were with the junior high trouble-maker.

Irene's face clouded, and I could tell she really, really wanted to say something to me because she _hated_ that nickname, and I think she could tell I was tweaking her with it, but as she already owed me a couple of favors, I think she was a bit intimidated.

"No, I'm not making you girls tea this morning," I continued without pause.

"Please?" Abra and Clover intoned. "You make it better than we do!"

"Yeah," Clover continued. "We couldn't get one kind of leaves, so Pally said we should try using sage."

Abra nodded. "It tasted awful!"

I groaned again, shaking my head slowly.

"Wakan Tanka," I called to my spirit mentor as I strode into the village. "I have a question."

Wakan Tanka was sitting, making some soup or something. "I heard. No, it won't do anything, except maybe upset their stomachs."

I chuckled. "I doubt that'll teach them anything."

"They are young and rash. They will learn." She smiled. "In some ways, they remind me of you when you first changed."

"Me?" I asked, dumbfounded. "You're comparing me to those ... three little witches? Those trouble-making, obstinate, rash girls?"

My mentor chuckled. "For a while, you were stubborn and rash, too, but you grew out of it quickly. It will take those three many moons, though, before they learn as you did."

I saw the three staring at me. "You might get a tummy-ache from that little ... experiment," I told them. "But nothing worse."

"I told you it was that stuff that made my stomach hurt last night!" Abra complained, whining.

"Yeah, mine, too!" Clover said.

I glanced to one side and saw Tansy standing a ways off, watching the three and smirking. No doubt, she found it amusing that they were pestering me instead of making her life miserable. I sighed - because I'd given them the recipe, I had a moral obligation to help them not poison themselves.

"Okay," I sighed, "I'll tell you what. You make a list of what you don't have, and how much you'll need, and I'll have my grandmother send me some more."

"Does your grandmother make tea, too?" Clover asked, doe-eyed.

I nodded. "She practices Lakota medicine, so yes, she makes a variety of herbal remedies."

"Okay," Irene said. Her eyes narrowed. "What's it gonna cost us?"

I watched her squirm uncomfortably as I acted like I was thinking for an extended period of time. I'm sure she was expecting something like a sorceror's contract and many favors. "Based on having two cups a day for each of you, I figure it'll cost you each about four dollars a month for supplies." I saw the relief on their faces. "Plus ...." I added.

"Plus ... what?" Irene asked nervously. "You aren't going to make us do something nasty, are you?"

"Pally, I don't want to owe her _more_ favors!" Abra complained.

The girls fidgeted as I smiled at them. "Well?"

"Plus what?" Clover asked, looking like the words were distasteful.

"How many spells do you know?" I asked with a mischievous grin.

Abra frowned. "I know a bunch, but I can't use them 'cause we haven't lit our own essence."

"Then how do you know that you learned them correctly?" I asked with a knowing grin.

Irene started to answer, but even as her mouth opened, my question worked its way through her brain, and she was left open-mouthed and stumped. "But ... we get a LITTLE essence!" she finally protested.

"Here's the deal. I know _some_ spells. You three will teach me at least one spell per week. Each."

"But ... you're like really powerful and stuff!" Abra protested. "What can we teach you?"

"I know a few Native American spells, but I've only been learning for a few weeks and my mentor has only taught me a few critical spells. Oh, and the spells have to work correctly, so you can't foist off faulty spells." From their reactions, I saw that I'd just taken away a loophole in the bargain. "So, deal or no?"

The three little witches huddled, and from their periodic suspicious glances as they deliberated, I could tell they were trying to figure out if _they_ could benefit more from the bargain than I would. "Well, girls?"

Clover nodded for the group. "Okay," she said.

I extended my hand to them. "Done," I said as I shook hands with Clover. She looked nervous; she was now the one stuck with the Sorceror's contract since she'd been the one who'd shaken on it.

After I gave them enough ingredients to hold them off for a couple of days, they left. Palantir and Abra looked rather pleased with themselves, but Clover looked like she'd sucked on a lemon, and was noticeably less enthusiastic than her companions.

"You should have given them more, so they wouldn't bother you again so soon," Laurie noted as I brewed my own tea - and then started a cup for Mindbird, who had spotted me and was wandering my way.

"I was serious about learning spells from them," I chuckled. "If they had more ingredients, they could try to weasel out of the deal. As it is, if they want the fixings, they _have_ to come to me, and I can learn the spells."

"Oooh," Naomi purred. "Clever."

"You might want to see what you can extort out of Tansy for keeping them out of her hair for a while every week," Adrian chuckled.

"Yeah, right!" I snorted. "Like I'd ask _her_ for anything resembling a favor!"

My tea made, I buttered my English muffins, and then took a small jar from my purse.

"What's that?" Evvie asked as I opened the contents and took a slow, enjoyable sniff.

"Mom's home-made chokecherry jelly," I said reverently, spreading some of the jelly onto the halves of the muffins.

"And you were going to offer some of that to us when?" Adrian asked.

"Maybe later," I grinned. "Except some of us who forgot to tell me that Mrs. Horton was holding a package for me," I added, looking pointedly at Evvie and sticking out my tongue at her.

"Hey," Evvie protested, "I _said_ I was sorry! Besides, you weren't exactly around a lot yesterday, were you?"

With a grin, I uncovered a few English muffins that my napkin had been hiding, split them, and spread on some jelly, distributing them to the team. From the looks on their faces, I was pretty certain that the jelly was a hit.

"Tea, and now special jelly," Vasiliy said appreciatively. "Are spoiling us."

"Wait until you try mom's home-made sweet pickles," I replied with a grin.

"Pardon me, Kayda," I heard Adalie's voice from behind me as I took another bite of my muffin. "Are we going to practice sparring this afternoon?"

I quickly gulped down the food in my mouth, a little upset that I didn't have time to properly appreciate the sweet jelly due to the interruption. "Yeah. I'll come by after lunch. Is Alicia going to spar with us, too?"

"Oui," Adalie replied. I could see her staring at my jelly jar curiously. "She is looking forward to the practice."

"Okay," I relented. "I gather that you'd like to try some of my mom's home-made jelly?"

"May I?" she asked shyly. I spread some more jelly on one of the two half-muffins left and handed it to her. Taking a bite, her eyes rolled back and she seemed to be purring. "Tres delicieux," she said, her expression blissful. "It reminds me of the jellies my mama used to make." She took another bite.

"See you around one?"

"Oui." As she headed back to her table, I heard her say, "C'est merveilleux!"

"First, you're a tea pusher. Now you're going to get us hooked on jelly!" Evvie giggled.

"Psst," Naomi picked up her thinking, "hey kid! Wanna try some jelly? It's _really good_!"

"Hi, my name is Laurie, and I'm addicted to Kayda's tea," she intoned. "It started out with just a cup now and again, but before I knew it, I was hooked on four cups a day!"

"You guys are so bad!" I giggled.

"You're sparring - voluntarily?" Evvie asked once the chuckles stopped. "It's a sign! A sign of the apocalypse!" she said in a tone reminiscent of an evangelical preacher. "Repent, before it's too late!"

"I'm not that bad!" I protested weakly, but from the expressions of my friends, I could see that they didn't believe me.

Laurie was the one who brought sanity back to the table. "After last night," she observed, "I can't say that I blame you for training harder."

Adrian nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "You've got some nasty enemies."

"Are you talking about the snake thing?" I heard from over my shoulder.

"Sheesh!" Evvie exclaimed. "I thought this was breakfast, not Grand Central Station!"

"Sorry," Ayla apologized. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Yes, you did," I chuckled, looking at him. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"Point conceded," he acknowledged.

"First, the three little witches. Then tea for Mindbird. Then Charge. Now you. So what would _you_ like?" I said, feigning exasperation. I couldn't act that well, and my attempt ended in giggles.

Ayla winced a tiny bit. "I was eating with the Berets," he explained, "when Charge came back to the table. She was quite enthusiastically ranting about the jelly you had, and that it was the best she'd eaten here." He shrugged. "If it's that good, I thought I'd ask if you'd be willing to sell a jar as a gift to her and the other girls in the Berets."

"And you'd like to see if it meets the demands of your sophisticated palate," Evvie chuckled.

"Well, yes," Ayla admitted. "But I want to be fair ...."

"Sit down," I said firmly while I began to slather some of the precious - and apparently rapidly gaining in popularity - preserves on the last half muffin I had. "Here." I said as I shoved it at Ayla.

Ayla looked at it, and then at me, as if uncertain, but then he took a small bite. "Hmm," he said as he sampled, his eyes half-closed in concentration. "A bit tart, but not overly so. Not cloyingly sweet like many jellies are. And the berry flavor is quite unique."

"I take it you approve?" Evvie asked sarcastically.

"It's certainly better than the mass-market, overly-sugared, misbegotten apologies for jelly that they serve here."

"Thanks," I said, only semi-caustically. "I think. I'm sure Mom will consider that a ringing endorsement."

Ayla shot me a curious glance, as if he wasn't quite sure how to deal with my response to his commentary. "I can see why Charge likes this. It's quite good." He paused, thinking. "It would nicely offset the slightly sour taste of a proper sourdough bread, and with slightly sweet butter ..." He thought a bit more. "Would it be too much to ask for you to bring your jelly and a cup of your tea? I know someone who could use a special treat this morning."

Ayla didn't have to say more, and I could tell that Evvie understood just as quickly as I did. After quickly brewing a cup of tea, I excused myself, and following Ayla, went up to the third floor to the Team Kimba table.

As we walked up the stairs, I couldn't help asking, "What's up with you and Vanessa?"

"In what way?" Ayla asked cautiously.

"I noticed that things seemed kind of ... awkward in the bathroom," I replied.

"She's not talking to me," Ayla said glumly. "I'm not quite sure why. I think she's over-reacting to ... something." Ayla obviously wasn't going to tell me more.

"Have any of your teammates talked to her?"

"She won't talk to them, either. Or if she does, she studiously avoids the topic of the two of us."

"Oh. Well, if she's like all the girls I've known, she'll get over it soon enough," I tried to reassure Ayla.

"I hope so," Ayla replied unconvincingly. We wove through the tables to the Team Kimba table, which was relatively crowded - as usual.

As the others talked, Nikki sat quietly; the sparkle that I'd first noticed in her weeks ago was missing from her eyes. She looked up at me and tried to smile, but not entirely successfully. "You did well last night," she said simply.

"It was a pretty ugly win," I said self-disparagingly. "We took a pounding, and it was kind of dicey for a bit."

Nikki exchanged glances with her friends; from what I'd heard, they'd had their fair share of close calls and ugly victories. "A win is a win," Toni said with a shrug. "Especially when it's an ugly mutha' like snakey."

"You had a pretty nasty enemy," Nikki added.

"Say, you don’t suppose I could get some of his hide tanned and made into a pair of calf boots, do you?" Toni asked out of the blue. "And a belt. Gotta have a cool belt. That'd be tres chic!"

"Don't forget a matching purse," Ayla added with a sly grin.

I shook my head in disbelief. "He's a Class X entity," I said, dumbfounded by their casual attitude. "Not exactly something you want to be wearing around."

"Bet he'd clean up nice, though," Toni replied. "Then get him tanned. There's enough hide that the whole team could have matching black leather cat-suits!" She was grinning directly at Ayla.

"I am _not_ wearing a black leather cat-suit!" Ayla said firmly. He looked quickly at Jade, whose eyes were widening. "And you cannot embroider a 'Hello, Kitty' logo on a black leather snake-hide purse!"

I sighed, shaking my head. "Anyway," I changed the subject, "someone thought you might like some of my tea, and to try some of mom's chokecherry jelly."

Nikki glanced at Ayla, and then looked at me; she was touched by the gesture. "Thanks. I ... guess I could try it." I slathered some jelly on a slice of toast and handed it to her, while she took a sip of tea, which she savored with half-closed eyes. "I wonder," she said, "if this would work to calm down a hyper roommate?"

"Hey," Toni objected sharply, "I'm not hyper. I'm just full of energy and ready to do things!"

As soon as Nikki took a bite, she purred. "This is good," she said.

I glanced at Ayla, who had an, 'I told you so' look, and then I pushed the rest of the jar to Nikki. "If mom's jelly can put that big a smile on your face, keep it." I hadn't seen her smile in days, so if the chokecherry preserves would brighten her day a little, it was worth the sacrifice.

"I can't take your jelly!" she protested.

I chuckled. "When mom makes a batch, she makes between fifteen and twenty pints because we have so many chokecherry trees on our property. And she sent two jars, so I'm good. I'll pick up more if I make it home for spring break, which is looking more likely now that snakey is dead."

"How much is that jar worth?" Ayla asked, clearly intent on making sure he wasn't taking advantage of me.

"You try to pay me for that," I said with a hint of menace, "and I'll let you take it up with Tatanka!"

Nikki actually chuckled at that, while Ayla nodded reluctantly. "Okay. Message received."

* * * * * *

Laird Hall, afternoon

Evvie and Naomi went with me to meet Adalie and Alicia in the gym. We hadn't been warming up for more than three minutes when Mr. Two Knives came in as if he'd been expecting us. I was more than a little surprised, because I hadn't told him that we were going to practice.

"A warrior practices whenever possible," Mr. Two Knives said with a grin. "Especially after a battle, when the memories of what went right and what went wrong are fresh. That allows the warrior to correct the things he was doing wrong, and improve the things he was doing right."

I frowned. "I hadn't had a chance to tell you about the fight yet. How did you know?"

Mr. Two Knives grinned. "I make it a point to know what my students are doing. In this case, Chief Delarose gave me a briefing this morning. And if he hadn't, it's pretty much all the staff - and I assume other students - seemed to be talking about this morning."

"Oh. What did he say?"

"He gave me the report you and your friends filed," he answered.

"I 'eard something about your fight," Adalie said, her eyes wide. "It sounded quite exciting."

I glanced at Evvie. "Exciting isn't the word I'd use," I replied. "It was scary."

Mr. Two Knives smiled. "A warrior who is not scared becomes complacent, or reckless. A reckless or complacent warrior is soon a dead warrior."

"Igmu Taka," I said with a knowing grin. I saw the puzzled looks on the other girls' faces, while Mr. Two Knives just nodded, smiling. "Igmu Taka is the mountain lion. His spirit teaches patience and planning rather than fighting with reckless abandon."

Evvie snorted. "Yeah, like we had time for planning and patience last night!"

Naomi nodded her agreement. "And having Vasiliy shoot his RPG at the snake when you were too close - that seemed more than a bit reckless!"

I scowled at her. "Rushing in to get my knife wasn't exactly a cautious thing," I rebutted. "And using your PK shield to block tail smashes was rather risky!" I added, looking at Evvie. Adalie's and Alicia's eyes got wider as we traded jabs about who had been the most rash during the fight.

Mr. Two Knives chuckling surprised us; he had a broad grin. "I was going to wait to do a post-mortem after we sparred, but since you're already doing an analysis of the fight, we might as well spend a few minutes now." He glanced at Charge and Alicia. "We'll get to sparring soon enough, but for now, you can listen and learn from the mistakes they made last night."

Thereupon, we proceeded into a grueling, twenty-minute detailed dissection of the battle, focusing very intently on every move and decision we did wrong. It was a long list of faulty tactics and decisions, and by the time we finished, I felt as if we'd lost instead of won. Evvie and Naomi had the same crestfallen expressions.

Mr. Two Knives noticed, of course. "Now let's go over what you did right." The list was longer than I'd have thought, given the preceding discussion of our faults. "You had pre-warned teammates of the power of his gaze," he said. "And you reminded them during the fight. You used your shield spell well to protect yourself. Calling the energizer to hit the snake-demon while you were in range was a calculated risk, assuming that you could protect yourself from the blast with your shield. It was an effective use of your teammate." He turned to Evvie. "Once you knew that he couldn't penetrate your shield, using it to shield your teammate was a wise use of your power," he observed. "And your flier did well to distract the demon, and to use his speed and flight to rescue when needed."

"Gloriana and Pendragon charging in wasn't exactly smart," Evvie noted. "They turned into a distraction."

"Yes, but you took advantage of the girl's power against the snake-demon," Mr. Two Knives countered. This discussion went on for several more minutes before we began to spar.

We all started with Krav Maga, but after almost forty minutes of that, Mr. Two Knives began instructing me in the tomahawk and knife, while the others continued sparring. By the time we finished practice two hours later, we were all tired and sore.

No sooner had we gotten back into Poe than we bumped into Rosalyn. She stared at me, looking concerned, and immediately came to my side. "You look tired," she said, but the playful tone seemed to be missing from her voice.

"Yeah," I admitted warily. "We just got back from practice with my tutor."

"We'll see you in a bit," Evvie said. "Laurie's room for pizza?"

"Yeah," I agreed. Evvie and Naomi headed up the stairs to shower and clean up.

"I heard about your fight last night," Rosalyn continued.

I shrugged. "It wasn't pretty, but we won."

"Against some kind of demon?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He was kind of tough."

"When they first told us that you'd been in a fight and were over at Doyle," she said, an odd tone to her voice, "I was ... er, we ... were all worried about you."

"Is this where you try to guilt me to going to the hot tub party for making you worry?" I asked a bit sarcastically.

Rosalyn looked hurt by my comment. "No," she said softly. "I ... was just worried."

The guilt part worked. "Sorry," I apologized. "I ... was expecting you to push to get me to go to the party."

"Well, I'm still hoping you'll go," she said, "but right now ...." Without warning, she wrapped herself around me in a tight embrace. "I'm glad you're safe." A moment later, she let go, and backed off a bit, looking a little embarrassed.

"Not half as glad as I am," I chuckled.

"But you would have been safer at the movie with us last night," she said, finally venturing back into the flirting territory I expected from her.

I shook my head, chuckling softly. "I guess I _did_ promise to go to a movie, didn't I?"

Rosalyn's confident airs returned with a vengeance. "And since you stood me up once, I think I'll call Debra now to get permission to take you on a real date - as payment for making me wait."

I gulped nervously, which made her chuckle. I knew she was serious about calling Debra. And with the mischievous streak in my girlfriend, I had no idea of what the two would cook up. I had to pre-empt that if I could.

Instead of going to the caf for dinner, we got together in Laurie's room and ordered pizza, and then watched a movie in the common room in Laurie's cottage. We couldn't stay late, though, since we all had some homework to do before classes the next day. Still, it was nice way to unwind for a couple of hours after a tough training session.

* * * * * *

Kayda's Hometown, Eastern South Dakota

Scott Hollings glared around the group, seated around the back patio at JJ's house. "I'm getting tired of this shit," he snarled, taking a sip of illicit beer JJ's parents had unknowingly provided.

Rich nodded. "This is too weird," he said nervously. "I ... I can't take this anymore, guys," he stammered, looking down at his nearly-empty beer bottle.

"You're not quitting on us," JJ snarled. "We're all in this together." He glanced around the group of boys and girls. "We've got to stick together."

"Yeah?" Rich asked, staring at Scott and Shelly, seated close beside him. "How did that work for you two?" He shook his head, glancing around the nervous group. "Whoever is doing this is ... is like a bunch of ghosts!" he declared. "There's _no_ evidence for the sheriff to go on!"

"Quit being a candy-ass!" another of the guys snarled.

"Yeah," JJ agreed. "You heard Doc and the sheriff - there's no evidence we did _anything_ wrong, so even if you talk to the sheriff, he's not gonna do anything!" He looked around defiantly. "It's our word against that filthy mutant!"

Scott nodded in agreement, and then guzzled the rest of his beer. "I've been talking with the other guys," he announced, "and everyone pretty much agrees that whatever is happening is because of Brandon. So they're all backing us. We got an army, practically."

"Yeah? So how do we stop them?" Rich demanded. "'Cause there's no evidence of anything so far, and if we don't do something, then someone's gonna get hurt because of this."

Scott nodded sternly, an angry frown on his face. "And I know just who that someone is," he declared. "C'mon guys," he announced as he got up. "Time to go pay a visit to get rid of that mutant once and for all."

The mob walked around to the front of the house, to where their cars waited. Slowly, to their utter shock, they realized that something was wrong with their cars.

"My tires!" Rich declared angrily. "They're all flat!"

JJ frowned, spying the piece of paper under his windshield wiper. "What the hell?" he said softly.

You can't hide. For every eye watching your back, there will be five watching for an opportunity to punish you for what you've done wrong. You will find no strength in numbers. You'll never know from whence the blow will come, but you can be assured that it WILL come. Your only hope is to confess. _Maybe_ your law enforcement will be able to protect you from our vengeance.

Scott angrily crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground. "That does it!" he screamed.

"Wait," JJ said suddenly. "We've got evidence this time! The security cameras!"

Gleefully, the kids ran into JJ's house, only to emerge twenty minutes later looking totally defeated. "That's impossible!" Scott and Rich muttered.

Shelly was white as a ghost. "One frame, there's nothing. The next frame, there's a note on the windshield. Like ... a ghost."

"Uh, guys?" Rich muttered, looking at the others from beside his car. He was visibly pale, even in the dim moonlight. "Look inside."

After a moment's thought, the guys raced to their cars, and they became either red-faced with anger or flushed with fear as they beheld what Rich had first seen - a pair of severed testicles hanging from each and every steering wheel.

Scott flared with anger, "This ends tonight!" he bellowed. "Get your dad's truck," he ordered JJ. "And get your dad's gun."

"Where are we going?" Shelly and Rich stammered nearly simultaneously, both fearful of how things were escalating beyond anyone's control.

"We're paying a visit to that mutant scum to put an end to this whole thing! Like we should have done the first time."

Fifteen minute later, trailing a cloud of dust, a pickup full of teenagers skidded off the gravel county road into the Franks' driveway, and then slid to a stop. As angry kids piled out, a light inside turned on, followed quickly by the porch light. Before they could all disembark, Mr. Franks stood on the porch, both of his .45 pistols in hand.

"Kind of late for a social call, isn't it boys?" he said gruffly.

"Bring it out here!" Scott demanded, lifting his rifle to cock the bolt.

"What?" Mr. Franks asked, his voice deceptively calm.

"That mutant of yours! The one that's been fuckin' with us all! We're going to put a stop to all the bullshit it's doing!" JJ answered angrily, his own gun at the ready.

"You know good and goddamned well that Kayda isn't here," Franks said angrily.

"We _know_ it's around," Scott snarled. "From all the shit it's doing to us and our cars." He cocked the rifle and began to raise it.

The sound of the bolt of a semi-automatic rifle slamming closed got the boys' attention. To one side of Mr. Franks, a rifle barrel was pointed toward the group, followed almost immediately by the sound of a companion rifle and the appearance of a second barrel on the other side of the porch.

"You boys are trespassing," Mr. Franks said calmly. "And threatening a family with firearms. Now I suggest you put down your guns, get back in that truck, and get out of here before the state police show up." He made a show of glancing at his watch. "Which should be in about four minutes." He looked back at the group of kids. "They won't be nearly as forgiving of your activities as the sheriff would be."

The standoff lasted for five or six seconds, until the boys sensibly backed down and lowered their guns. "This isn't over," Scott snarled.

"You're right," Mr. Franks agreed solemnly. "I intend to see to it that your assaults and rape are eventually prosecuted, and that you get the punishment you have coming to you. In the meantime, I would caution you to stay the hell off my property."

* * * * * *

Outside of town, twelve eyes in two parked SUVs watched a truck drive away from the Franks' farm. One of the men, his face painted half-gray and half steel-blue, pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Hello," he said when the other person answered. He put the call on speakerphone.

"Did things go as planned?" the recipient of the call asked.

"Yes," the painted-face man replied. "But they are not getting the message."

"Patience," the voice said from the phone speaker. "A warrior is patient, and none more-so than a ghost-warrior."

"After what they've done, and what they continue to do, the time for patience is at an end," painted-face snarled. "A warrior does not hide in the shadows when his lodge is attacked."

"The impudent children dare not move, for fear of an investigation uncovering their crimes," the speaker said calmly.

"Crimes for which they must pay!" another man, with bars of paint on his face, said angrily.

"And they will pay," the speaker answered. "They are getting nervous. It is only a matter of time until one of them cracks."

"We will need more ghost-walking charms," painted-face said.

"And you shall have them. It is time to take this to the next level. When you get the charms, I will also give you a special phone that cannot be traced, and which will disguise your voice. Call their families at all hours, accusing them of their crimes. Leave messages so that their parents hear. Promise retribution for what they've done. Call their classmates and teachers."

"It shall be done, Gray Skies."

"Be patient. The time for war is almost at hand. When it comes, you must be ready, for we shall win a great battle. The omens show it to be true."

"We will wait for your direction." Painted-face hung up the phone and turned to his compatriots, grinning. Vengeance would be theirs.

* * * * * *

Monday, April 2, 2007
Crystal Hall

I hated Mondays, and apparently, they hated me. I was late for Avatars because I'd forgotten that I left my book in my locker, and I had to run back to Schuster to get it, then back to class in Kane. I could have sworn that it had been in my backpack, though.

I strongly suspected that Ito had learned of the battle on Saturday night, because he and Sensei Tolman were paying extra attention to me, having me spar with some of the toughest students in the class. The toughest female students, that is. I was exhausted and rather battered when we finished that class, but at least my regen would heal me quickly.

I was late to mystic arts because my locker door was mysteriously stuck. Once in that class, instruction was diverted to the use of magic in combat situations, which made me suspect that word of my Saturday evening adventures had spread. Ayla kept smirking at me, like I was now experiencing some of what he'd gone through in the past. I felt rather embarrassed when Ms. Grimes had me go through the battle, spell by spell, describing what I'd done and why. When I told about using my shield spell to protect me from Vasiliy's RPG blast, she stopped me. "Did you know that the spell would protect you?"

"I ... wasn't sure," I answered sheepishly, certain that I was going to get a lecture.

Ms. Grimes lived up to my expectations - in spades. "If you weren't sure your spell would protect you, you were taking a huge - and unacceptable - risk. Your team needed your magic - and your knowledge of the snake-demon - to win. If the spell failed, you would have been seriously injured or even killed. That would have left your team with no magic ability. Further, no-one but you could look at the snake demon without risking insanity."

I shrunk in my chair as she lectured me, wishing I could hide. Her commentary was unusually blunt, and quite judgmental - even acerbic, and every eye in the room was fixed on me.

"At the end of the fight, you drained _all_ your essence through your knife into the snake demon. What would you have done if that hadn't been enough to kill him? At that point, you were of no use to your team as a magic user. And you left yourself with no defensive capability"

I listened to her continuing critique; fighting back tears, until I couldn't take any more. I fled the room and all the accusing, critical eyes. At that moment, I didn't feel like we'd won; instead, I felt like I'd lost.

"Wait up, Kayda," Nikki called chasing me down the hall.

I don't know if I _wanted_ her to catch up, hoping she'd be a little more sympathetic than Grimes had been, or if she was just faster, but when she put her hand on my shoulder, I stopped. "Are you going to tear into my tactics, too?" I asked bitterly.

"Come on," she said, leading me out of the hall into an out-of-the-way corner, where I just slumped to the ground. She sat down beside me.

"Ms. Grimes was evaluating your use of magic in the fight," Nikki said plainly. "That's her job ..."

"To make me feel like shit?" I asked angrily. "To make me feel like a total fuck-up?"

"No. To help you improve by observing mistakes and correcting them."

"Couldn't she do that without making a fool of me in front of everyone?"

"I think you're reading more into her criticism than is really there," Nikki observed. "To me, it sounded like she accurately pointed out your weaknesses and possible errors in the fight."

"The way she was talking, you'd think I lost, or that my mistakes had hurt my friends," I complained.

"And they could have." She patted my arm gently. "I've been there. I've had the same type of post-combat analysis, only it was Gunny Bardue analyzing how my mistakes could have hurt my teammates and friends." She chuckled softly. "If you think Ms. Grimes is tough, you haven't had your fights analyzed by Gunny!"

"She didn't even say I'd done anything right," I added.

"She did, but you weren't listening," Nikki corrected me. "She pointed out that you'd pre-charged your knife to maximize your available essence in a fight. She pointed out that you'd been careful to warn others about the danger. She pointed out how you'd used your ghost-walking spell to hide the others to protect them from the snake demon."

I stared at her in disbelief. When had she said those things? I didn't remember.

"She said that after she listed your mistakes," Nikki explained. "Only, by that time, you were feeling pretty crushed, I bet, and you were hearing everything as criticism."

I stared at her for several seconds. "When did you become a psychologist?" I asked, wiping at the moisture on my cheeks.

"There's something else bothering you, isn't there?" Nikki asked. "Is this partly that you're frustrated at how different your Native American magic style is from the way she's teaching it?"

"No!" I denied strongly, but then I paused to think. It was difficult to reconcile the two different styles, and it was causing me trouble. "Maybe. Yeah."

Nikki grinned at that. "Now that you recognize the source of your problem, you can work to eliminate it. That's going to include recognizing the differences between how Wakan Tanka is teaching you and how the class is teaching you, and it'll be something you have to do every day as part of your homework."

"Fun," I groused. "More homework. Just what I need."

Even though all eyes were focused on me once again, I followed Nikki back into the classroom and slumped in my chair. Ms. Grimes looked at me momentarily, and then continued her lecture. I stayed after class to talk with Ms. Grimes about what Fey had suggested, and was thus late for lunch, missing my group entirely.

Ito continued his torture of me in fourth period martial arts; he explicitly told the girls tutoring me to not hold back at all when sparring with me. As a result, my body, already bruised from second period BMA, was more thoroughly battered. At least nothing was broken. Then again, I found myself thinking, if I _did_ break something, I'd get out of martial arts for a day or two. It was almost tempting. Except that I'd heal very quickly and not get any respite.

French was more of the same - languages and I evidently didn't get along, at least not without magic help. Powers Lab turned into another session of combat analysis, focusing on how I had and hadn't used my particular powers fighting snakey-poo. If someone had been lying comatose in Doyle, they would have heard every detail of the snake-demon fight by now. If I didn't feel conspicuous enough walking around campus, the Dunwich battle had exacerbated that for me.

* * * * * *

Crystal Hall- dinnertime

"Hey, Buffalo Gal!" some obnoxious guy called out, easily heard over the milling throng queued up for the serving lines. I spun toward the general direction of the sound, feeling my cheeks flashing with anger.

"Hey, will you autograph a picture for me?" It was one of the upper class jerks with a smug grin calling to me.

I turned away quickly, which evoked laughter and even more calls from several of the guys' buddies around him.

"Ignore them," Evvie said to me as I stood in line fuming. "It's just that asshole Gauntlet and his buddies. Everyone knows they're total dumbasses."

"Easier said than done," I said, fuming. "And that's ... Cagliostro! The asshole that got me in trouble my first day here!"

"Don't look at him, then," Evvie recommended.

Gauntlet had stirred up the guys, and I heard my hated handle, Buffalo Gal, bandied about freely by guys that I _knew_ were staring at me as Evvie and I checked out and went to our table. I sank into the seat at our table, glad to take a load off my feet.

"That sigh sounds like you had a busy day," Adrian observed, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth.

"You could say that. Two martial arts classes and my private tutor after electronics class. And then tutoring Ayla, which turned out to be the easiest part."

"Oh?" Laurie asked.

"Yeah. Ayla is a good, very motivated student." I sighed again. "I wish I didn't feel so lost in French class. And I could do with a lot less martial arts during the day."

"And I hear you are winning sparring matches in martial arts," Vasiliy commented. "Extra training is working, da?"

"Ito is a sadistic little ... person," I said angrily. "He added Jobe to my tutors in fourth period. Do you have _any idea_ how annoying Jobe can be?"

"Yes," most of the table responded in unison.

"She's the most arrogant, self-absorbed person in the entire advanced technology program. Condescending, demeaning ...." Naomi started.

I nodded glumly. "Yeah, well now I'm on the receiving end of her arrogance every fourth period."

"Wasn't Mrs. Carson going to let you out of fourth period martial arts when you got caught up?" Evvie asked.

"That's what I thought," I said wearily. "But I think Ito is having too much fun torturing me, so he's trying to keep me around."

"At least you got through Gunny Bardue's gun safety course unscathed."

"Have you ever had a verbal flailing from Gunny?"

Vasiliy grinned. "Da. Is like spetznaz sergeant. Tough, mean, exacting." He shrugged. "Is no big deal. Trick is to blend into class, not stick out."

I snorted, "Now you tell me. I missed one word ... _one word_ ... on his gun safety rules, and I thought he'd never finish screaming at me - while I was doing pushups!"

Naomi, who'd been looking down at her plate, looked instead at me without lifting her head, but rolling her eyes upward instead while cocking one eyebrow. It was precisely what Mom used to do to signal disbelief or trouble. "Are you sure about that?"

"Okay," I conceded, giving in out of habit to that facial expression, "maybe not pushups. But he _did_ harangue me verbally for at least five minutes."

"Now when you qualify on the firing range, you can carry a pistol," Adrian said. He chuckled. "I'm not sure that would have been helpful the other night."

Vasiliy nodded. "Da. Snake was tougher than T-90 tank. One blast takes out tank, even with best composite armor. Snake takes round and gets up to fight more."

I nodded. "I really, really appreciate everything you guys did to help in the fight. He was very dangerous ... and tough." I took a bite of my lasagna, and nearly choked as I spat it out. "Yuck!" I swore softly.

"What?" Evvie and Naomi were instantly concerned.

I poured water down my throat. "Too salty!" I explained, looking more closely at my food. "It's like someone ... poured salt all over it!" I frowned deeply. "This shit is getting old."

"What?"

"Pranks. Something has been tripping me and scattering my books. Books go missing from my backpack. My locker door is stuck. Lots of little stuff like that, and it's happening too often to be coincidence." I shook my head, glaring at the salty food on my plate. "And now this."

Muttering angrily under my breath, I bused my tray, and then got in line for more food - hopefully less salty. That proved interesting when the cashier chewed me out because I'd already used my day's meal allowance, and she wasn't listening to any excuses, like someone had pranked me and over-salted my food, or that even with seconds, I was eating only a tiny fraction of what many energizers ate.

Frustrated with the lack of understanding or common sense in the cashiers, I slumped back in my chair. Before anything else, I had something I figured I should do.

Wakan Tanka was sitting at the fire, her eyes closed in meditation. As I sat down next to her, she smiled. "Greetings, Wihakayda. You are looking well today, but a little tired."

"I had a tough day training," I explained.

"The way of a warrior is never easy. A warrior must constantly train, to improve battle skills so he is not defeated."

"Yeah, I know. And my magic class is sometimes confusing."

"You have much more to learn than a warrior, Wihakayda. You must learn to be a shaman as well. But you are doing well."

"That's why I'm here," I explained. "I need to know if my shield spell will keep magical energies away from me."

"No, but there _is_ a spell that will help guard against magic."

"Good," I said with relief in my voice. "I need it. Someone's been pulling a lot of pranks on me, and I suspect they're magic."

Wakan Tanka quickly taught me the spell - it was another variant of the ghost-walking and shield spells - and I bade her goodnight.

With everyone watching me, because I'd zoned for a few seconds, I quickly incanted the new spell, and was rewarded with a mild tingling coursing through my body.

"What was that?" Evvie asked suspiciously.

"I had Wakan Tanka teach me a spell that hopefully will help protect me from pranks, if they're magic-based."

Another guy came up and sat down near me. "Hey, Kayda," he said in a syrupy voice.

I looked warily his way, and noticed his shit-eating grin immediately. "What do you want?" I snapped. "I'm trying to eat."

"Not much," he said, unrolling a magazine he was carrying and flipping it open to a tabbed page. "Just an autograph."

My jaw practically hit the floor. "Where ... where did you get that?" I stammered, gawking wide-eyed at one of the pictures that I'd taken at the Sioux Falls League headquarters that was in the magazine.

Adrian frowned deeply. "You know the rules, Keystone" he snarled. "Illicit photographs are violations of personal property and copyright."

Keystone grinned. "That only applies to illegal copies. This magazine is published with properly assigned rights and payments. It's perfectly legal for me to buy and possess this."

"How ... did you get that?" I demanded, taking the magazine from his hands. It was a Lakota magazine, highlighting promising Lakota girls and their career ambitions and achievements to serve as role models for other girls.

"I bought it on-line," Keystone said smugly. "So how about it? Autograph a picture for me?"

"Like hell!" I snapped. "You ... can't have that!"

"It's perfectly legal. If you don't believe me, ask Loophole!"

My jaw clenched at the name of the Gadgeteer Goddess. "I am _not_ autographing any pictures," I said through clenched teeth. "So go away!"

"Technically, any student is free to sit in any open seat in the cafeteria," Keystone said. "And I feel like sitting here." He thought a moment, and then pulled something out of his book bag. "And while you're signing things, can you autograph this?" He plopped a calendar in front of me. "August, please. That's my favorite."

Stunned, I slowly took the calendar. It was quite intimidating to see myself in a skimpy buckskin bikini, with Tatanka, on the cover of a calendar. "This ... this wasn't supposed to come out until this fall!" I flipped through a couple of pages, my jaw dropping further with each picture. At least Dad had vetoed anything really racy. My jaw flapped as I struggled to think of what to say about this stunning turn of events.

"Well, I'm glad they released a summer and fall calendar. Worth every penny, if you ask me!" Keystone gloated. "Now, about that autograph ...."

"Where. Did .You. Get. This?" I demanded as soon as I could form words.

"The bookstore," Keystone said. "If you want a copy," he said as an aside to Adrian and Vasiliy, "you better hurry. They're selling fast."

"At least the magazines are a niche product!" Laurie offered hopefully.

"Yeah, not so much. I ordered a hundred copies, and I've already sold out - and made a healthy profit!" he gloated.

Exasperated, I buried my face in my hands, knowing my cheeks were burning from a combination of humiliation and anger.

"Is there a problem here?" It sounded like Mindbird behind me.

I looked up in time to see Keystone flinch. "Uh, no. I'm just sitting here talking," he said very quickly.

Mindbird looked at me. "Kayda?"

"He's ... harassing me about autographing a calendar and a magazine he bought."

"And he's reselling the magazine!" Naomi added. "It's got a photo spread of Kayda, and it's embarrassing her."

"And it's perfectly legal," Keystone said defensively. "Look it up - they're legal, purchased copies!"

As Keystone spoke, Lifeline and another girl were striding quickly but gracefully toward us. "Kayda, we need a word with you, please," Lifeline said as soon as she was close enough.

Keystone realized that he was being surrounded and was hopelessly outnumbered. "I can always get my autograph _later_," he said. "It's in the school rules - you can't stop me from asking!" He snatched up the magazine and calendar and, head held high, marched off.

Mindbird watched him go and they put her hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, "but he's right. There's not a lot we can do about this."

"Hi, Kayda," Lifeline's companion greeted me, extending her hand. "I'm Poise."

"Hi," I answered hesitantly. "Just a sec," I added quickly. "Mindbird? Your tea?"

"Oh, yeah," Mindbird said, turning back. I quickly got the ingredients out and incanted over the tea, producing a cup of piping hot tea for her in seconds. "Thanks," she said as she took it, taking a sip as she turned to walk away.

"Sorry. She's a fan of my herbal tea," I explained.

"No problem," Poise said with a smile. "The word going around the grapevine ..."

"Very quickly," Lifeline interjected.

"... is that a calendar featuring you is on sale in the bookstore."

I nodded. "Yeah," I said with a snort. "So I've discovered."

"We'll give what help we can provide," Lifeline offered. "But under the circumstances, it won't be much."

Poise nodded in agreement. "The problem is that the copyright belongs to whoever produced the calendar, not to you or a group like Venus Inc., so students are within their rights to buy and display the calendar."

"The Sioux Falls League made the calendar as a fundraiser, and I'm getting paid royalties. Probably the same thing for the pictures in the magazine." I shook my head. "Just fuckin' great!" I snorted. "I didn't want to be a pinup girl!"

"The best we can do is to ask the headmistress to stop the autograph requests. But she can't stop the verbal ... sexual ... harassment," Poise explained.

"Shit," I swore. "Debra didn't tell me about _this_ part!" I said, shaking my head.

"Debra?"

"Cornflower," I explained. "She's my ... best friend back in Sioux Falls. She recommended Whateley, and she told me about Venus, Inc. She said she was in it."

Poise was smiling. "Ah, yes. Cornflower was an exceptional model. She wasn't the most glamorous, or the sexiest with her strut, or the prettiest, but she had the best all-around combination of every aspect of modeling that I've ever seen."

I caught myself before I started grinning stupidly at the mental imagery that Poise was causing. "Yeah. She's really ... attractive."

Poise exchanged a glance with Lifeline before continuing. "What's she doing now? Modeling, I hope?"

"No," I said, smiling at the thought of what modeling she _had_ done - with me! "She's part of a superhero group."

"Pity," Poise said sadly. "A waste of beauty and talent."

"I, for one, am glad she is," I said, defending my girlfriend. "She saved Mom and me by risking her own life, and she got seriously hurt in the process."

"Oh, so you're the ...." Lifeline blurted out, before her voice tailed off.

"I'm the what?" I asked, my eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Nothing," Lifeline stammered. "Hey, look at the time. I've still got to finish dinner so I can get to my homework," she said very quickly. "If you need any help, let us know."

I watched them walk away, and I could see that Poise was frowning as she directed some words at Lifeline. There was something that she wasn't saying, and I was bugged by the increasing number of mysteries around this campus - many of which seemed to revolve around me.

I turned my attention back to my meal, and I'd barely eaten a third of it when Ayla came to our table. "What now?" I asked with a heavy sigh.

"I take it you had a long day?" Ayla asked in a friendly, conversational way.

"That's an understatement," I replied.

"Then I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think you should come upstairs with me," he replied hesitantly.

I let my head droop down for a moment, closing my eyes and shaking my head. "Watch my stuff," I told my friends as I stood up. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Team Kimba was seated at their table, talking with smiles and a fair degree of animation, and as we neared, their topics became audible - and quite inane. Fashion, makeup, celebrity gossip - subjects that I couldn't believe they were discussing. Nikki still had a sad look in her eyes, and she wasn't nearly as active in the conversation as I would have thought.

Ayla gestured to a seat. "Touch the crystal," he directed, pointing to an egg-shaped crystal in the center of the table.

The moment I touched it, I felt magic coursing through me, and the conversation became something else entirely. As soon as I'd done so, I automatically began to make a cup of my special tea for Nikki. Seeing what I was doing, a faint smile came across her features.

"There's a ... problem," she said as I mixed up the tea.

"What kind of problem?"

In answer, the group glanced among themselves, and then Ayla pressed a few buttons and handed me his cell phone.

The picture he showed me was my poster. "And?" I asked, baffled.

"A ... friend sent this to me," Ayla said grimly. "It's from a room in Twain Cottage."

I nearly knocked over the tea. "What?" I stammered, shocked and nearly speechless. "How ...?" I looked at the picture again. "Are you sure?"

Ayla nodded. "The source is pretty trustworthy. And this is only one of a dozen that my source knows about."

"How ...?" I began to ask, and then I paled. "The poster ...."

"What about it?"

"The other day ... I thought the poster looked ... crooked." The implications were not good. Either someone had gotten into my room and had 'borrowed' the poster to make a copy, or worse, someone who had regular access to my room had done this. I turned white as I realized something else. "The ... the note from Debra!" That made the betrayal so much worse; any gay-bashers on campus would have a field-day with that knowledge.

Nikki shook her head after taking a sip of tea. "I already did a scrying," she said, having obviously sensed my emotions - a fear of betrayal. "Punch and Naomi didn't do this."

"Then ... who?"

Ayla shook his head, and so did Nikki. "The one good thing is that the note from Cornflower didn't copy."

"Huh?" I looked more closely at the picture, zooming in. Ayla was correct; the highly personal autograph from Debra wasn't there.

"Be calm," Wakan Tanka commanded me. "There is no need to worry!"

"But ... when everyone reads what Debra wrote ...."

"They won't," she assured me. "Do you not remember? The writing is enchanted, like ghost-walking. It can be read only by those who live in your lodge."

"Poe Cottage is hardly a lodge," I snorted.

"Nevertheless, Wihakayda," she continued, "you asked me to teach you an enchantment on the writing to keep the secret safe."

I shook my head as memories came back. "That seems like so long ago."

"You've had a busy time here. It is no wonder that you forgot. Now do not worry about the writing being copied."

The entire group was eyeing me cautiously. "Wakan Tanka had me put a spell on the poster. She said that it's sort of a ghost walking spell on the writing. It can't be copied or even seen outside the magic wards of Poe.

"But that still doesn't answer the question of how someone would have gotten it. Or who is responsible," Ayla said.

"That explains all the comments I've been getting from guys about wanting me to autograph a poster. I thought someone had gotten a picture of me and had made posters."

"It gets worse," Hank said, his voice carefully neutral. He put a calendar on the table. "This is ... _was_ ... on sale in the bookstore. It's sold out by now."

I nodded wearily, my eyes half closed. "Yeah, I know. Keystone tried to get me to autograph one for him."

"Probably the August picture, if he has any sense," Hank blurted out. Lily, sitting beside him, punched him, and he realized that he'd spoken aloud. "Sorry," he said, blushing.

"The prime suspects for copying and selling the poster would be Peeper and Greasy," Ayla continued. "They've done it before. But they can't get into Poe, so they may have had inside help."

I suddenly had a bad feeling. "How difficult would it be for some devisor's robot to get through a window?"

Nikki shook her head. "The wards would ...." She stopped mid-sentence. "With a little help from a mage, it might be possible to enchant a small robot to get in and out," she admitted with a pained expression. "But you would have had to leave a window open."

"In the springtime, when it's nice outside," Ayla finished the thought. "And during the day, a lot of people are doing just that.

"I better have a word with Mrs. Horton and check the wards, and maybe strengthen them," Nikki said.

"What can I do about the posters?"

Nikki and Ayla both sadly shook their heads. "Unless you can prove who removed it and made the copies, there's not much you _can_ do," Ayla said.

Nikki smiled thinly. "Welcome to the real world of modeling."

* * * * * *

Poe Cottage, evening

The romantic movie was making me think of Debra, and every time the two lovers kissed, I wished I was kissing Debra. Beside me, Rosalyn had her arm draped loosely over my shoulder, and since I was wedged in the corner of the sofa, she could scoot closely against me because I couldn't move away.

"Doesn't that make you feel really good inside?" Rosalyn whispered in my ear.

It was time to turn the tables on her. Debra had told me a thing or two about her, and now those tidbits of information would get her to back off. Slowly, I let her pull me closer, until my head was on her shoulder, and I let my arm drape across her lap, halfway hugging her. Around me, a few girls started to stare and whisper. It was all I could do to keep from giggling, because while they thought I was falling victim to her seductive ploys, she was walking into my trap.

Without warning, my hands attacked her sides vigorously, aiming for the spots where most people were ticklish, and she convulsed as she laughed aloud. All eyes were on us as I tickled her relentlessly. "Say uncle," I demanded, "and quit asking about the hot-tub party."

I expected her to capitulate quickly, but she didn't, and her laughter got so intense that I feared she was going to pass out. I paused momentarily to allow her to breathe, ready to resume my attack.

As soon as I paused, I was wrapped tightly in Rosalyn's arms, and she kissed me deeply, surprising me completely.

After a rather passionate kiss on Rosalyn's part, she leaned back, a very hungry look in her eye. "What ...?" I asked, baffled. "You're not supposed to ...."

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Rosalyn said in a sexy, seductive voice.

"No!" I protested.

"You didn't fight too hard," she purred. "And you were the one who started the foreplay."

"Foreplay ...?" I stammered.

"Didn't Debra tell you? To me, tickling _is_ foreplay! It makes me so ... hot!"

I was totally confused. "She didn't say anything except that you were ticklish!"

Rosalyn had the smile of a cat about to pounce on its prey. "Now, about that hot tub invitation."

"You were _supposed_ to cry uncle and stop!"

She licked her lips in an extremely exaggerated, sexy way. "Now, since you tried to prank me, it's only fair that you give me a chance to get back at you."

"I'm _not_ going to the hot-tub party!" I said firmly.

The other girls had forgotten about the movie. "Yeah, Kayda," Shove agreed, "turnabout is fair play."

"Here's my challenge. Since you were teasing me, I get a free kiss."

"Ooohh," a lot of girls said together.

"If you can resist kissing me for sixty seconds, I'll quit asking you to the party. But if you respond in any way, you'll agree to go."

"No."

"Chicken?" Angel asked, eliciting some mocking laughter from the other girls.

"No. There's just no point."

"Bwawk, bwawk, bwawk!" several of the girls began to call out to me.

Okay, so I never liked being called chicken. That had been my downfall many times in the past.

"Fine!" I said angrily after nearly a minute of being called chicken, a coward, and other such things. "Anything to get you to stop pestering me."

Without warning, Rosalyn swung herself over me, straddling me, as she leaned forward and kissed me, one hand behind my head to keep me from moving away. I smelled her perfume, the same intoxicating scent that Debra wore, and her lips pressed eagerly against mine. Slowly, her tongue parted my lips.

I was not going to give in. No matter how sexy and seductive she was. No matter how good a kisser she was. No matter that her passionate lip-lock was making me feel all warm inside. No matter how much I was starting to want to kiss her back. No matter how my lips tingled, and my tongue wanted to fence with hers in a deep, passionate French kiss. No matter how wonderful it felt to be held so tightly and kissed with such depth of feeling. No matter .... I wasn't going to reciprocate her French kiss. I wasn't going to let my hand drift to squeeze her perfect ass. I wasn't going to close my eyes like I was enjoying a passionate moment. Oh, shit. I suddenly realized that I _was_ doing all of those things.

She completed her kiss, and leaned back, grinning. "Well?" she asked.

Angel smiled. "She made it thirty-eight seconds," she chuckled.

"That's about as long as anyone has resisted her," Shove added with a giggle.

"I'll see you at the hot-tub party," Rosalyn said triumphantly.

After the movie ended - without further incident, fortunately - as I was getting ready for bed, several girls made interesting comments or giggled as word of my failed prank spread. It seemed most of the floor was enjoying my embarrassment. Even Evvie had heard of the incident, and she was trying her best to not giggle at my plight.

Debra snuggled next to me as we sat by the fire, but I felt incredibly guilty, and wasn't nearly as cuddly as I usually was. She noticed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I tried to lie.

"Kayda," she chided me gently, "something's bothering you. What is it?"

I couldn't _not_ tell her, but I was sorely afraid that she was going to be disappointed in me. Once I started, the words and tears gushed forth as I explained my failed attempt to prank Rosalyn, and the fallout of that.

Debra chuckled. "Yeah, that's Rosalyn."

"You told me she was ticklish!" I shot back. "You didn't tell me she treated it like foreplay!"

Debra shrugged. "You didn't ask, nor did you tell me you were going to try tickling her. If you had, I'd have warned you. Her tickle spots are very erogenous zones for her. If someone tickles her long enough, she actually has orgasms!"

I buried my face in my hands, feeling humiliated. I'd brought all that on myself.

Debra put her hand on my shoulders comfortingly. "How long did you last? When she kissed you, I mean?"

"Thirty-eight seconds," I mumbled, ashamed. I felt like I'd been unfaithful to Debra.

"That's impressive!" she said. I looked up in disbelief, and she was smiling. "Most girls give in - I heard even hetero girls - within twenty-five to thirty seconds. She's _that good_ a kisser."

"But ... now I have to go to the hot-tub party."

"Don't worry. It's before your birthday, so you're technically still jail-bait. Rosalyn knows better than to push _that_ line." She smiled. "Right now, I suspect that she's just having fun teasing you."

After her little talk, I felt a lot better, and we were able to get some quality snuggling time, which further improved my mood.

* * * * * *

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Rosalyn had a smug smile on her face when she escorted me to class, still flirting, but she didn't mention the hot-tub party until just before she left, when she told me where the group was meeting and what to wear. Her gloating was almost as bad as her flirting, especially since I'd brought it on myself by trying to prank her - and she knew it.

Basic Martial Arts was somewhat of a disaster. Ito was staring at me. "We're going to learn to break a rear hold today," he said firmly. "Kayda, since you've already learned this in your afternoon class, you will help demonstrate the technique."

I gulped. "Yes, Sensei," I croaked as I scrambled to my feet. I glanced at Sensei Tolman, who had a worried expression. I was trembling by the time I got to center mat.

"Frequently, when fighting inexperienced opponents, they will grapple you from behind," Ito explained. "This is an easy hold to break, as Kayda will now demonstrate."

I tried to cooperate. I really tried. But when he grasped me from behind, I had a panic attack. The next thing I knew, Sensei Tolman, Adalie, and Alicia were huddled around me.

"You're okay, Kayda," Adalie said soothingly. "Everything is okay."

"What ...?" I mumbled. My cheeks were wet from my tears, and I was curled up in a little ball, clutching my knees to my chest. "What happened?"

"You had a panic attack," Sensei Tolman said. "Can you sit up?"

I slowly unclutched my knees and straightened up a little. "I ... I think so," I said softly. With Alicia's help, I rolled up to a sitting position, and then wiped my face.

Ito had the other students to one side of the gym, where he was instructing and watching them practice the technique. Some of the students were glancing my way, making me feel quite self-conscious.

"You girls go back to instruction," Sensei Tolman directed Adalie and Alicia. "Are you okay now?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, I want you to sit here and take some deep breaths. Sensei Ito wants to talk with you a bit." She saw me starting to tremble again. "You need to listen to him, Kayda."

I nodded, and she walked over to the instructional group. As soon as she had the class under control, Ito strode over toward me, his inscrutable features giving not the slightest hint of emotion. As he squatted down beside me, I looked down, away from his gaze. "Kayda," he said firmly.

I slowly looked up at him.

"You have got to get your panic attacks under control," he said simply. "In the real world, an attacker is more likely to be a man, and you cannot permit yourself to become catatonic every time a man lays a hand on you."

"I know," I whispered, letting my gaze drop once more. "But ...."

"I'm not going to pretend that I know what you went through." I looked up again, surprised. "It was clearly very traumatic for you, and it left its scars. But you _must_ learn to put that pain aside when you fight. Or you will lose, and then possibly be killed. Or worse."

I gasped; I understood what he meant. If I was incapacitated in a fight, there was nothing to stop attackers from violating me.

"After break, you _are_ going to start sparring with boys. Are there any that you trust to start sparring with, to build your confidence?"

"I guess maybe ... Lancer," I replied. I knew him well from Poe. "And ... Harrier." Adrian was a very good friend, and so into Laurie that he wouldn't do anything untoward. Vasiliy? I wouldn't put it past him to sneak a feel if we grappled. He wouldn't go beyond that, I was certain, but even that ....

"I'll get them to class for your sparring." He got a wicked grin. "And since Lancer has a practically invulnerable PK field, perhaps you can demonstrate the Native American techniques you're learning from Billy Two Knives." I goggled at that suggestion. "Billy tells me that you're picking up skill with the tomahawk very quickly."

Magic Arts was confusing again, as I tried to interpret Wakan Tanka's native magic in terms of the course material, and vice-versa. Ms. Grimes and the class tried to analyze my ghost-walking spell, but the textbook terminology and theory didn't fit the style of magic that Wakan Tanka was teaching me. The difference was not pleasant for me because some of the students acted as if my magic was a huge distraction because it differed from the tidy little theories in the book. Ms. Grimes and Nikki could tell I was getting upset by the grumbling, so Ms. Grimes firmly reminded the class that there were many, many different styles of magic, and that it was impossible to describe them all with one neat, grand unified theory. With a little one-on-one help from Ms. Grimes while Nikki supervised the others, I managed to find the commonality between textbook and Wakan Tanka's style. Ms. Grimes cautioned me that because Native American magic was different, the rest of the magic arts curriculum wasn't going to be easier. That was just the sort of cheery news I needed to end my morning with.

* * * * * *

Kayda's Home - around noon

June Franks scooted her chair back when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she told her husband, strolling from the kitchen table. She opened the door, and was surprised - startled, actually - to see the sheriff and deputy sheriff standing on the porch. "Sheriff," she said, both in greeting and to alert her husband. "What brings you around here?"

The sheriff's countenance was not pleasant to behold. "I have a warrant," he growled, holding up a piece of paper that looked legal, "for the arrest of your child, Brandon Franks, and to search the premises on suspicion that you are harboring said child."

Mr. Franks was quickly up from the table and at the door. "Let me see that, please," he said as he stepped to the door. He took the proffered document and scanned it. "It seems in order," he said.

The sheriff stepped to one side, showing that his deputy had his gun drawn. "In accord with the law and as duly authorized sheriff, I must ask you to surrender your firearms," the sheriff said, looking pointedly at the holsters on Mr. Franks' hips, "to ensure the safety of law enforcement officers."

Franks glowered at him. "That's bull, and you know it," he said. Nonetheless, he slowly withdrew his pistols, one at a time, and placed then in the outstretched hands of the sheriff.

"Please sit at the table," the sheriff ordered, his use of the word 'please' failing to mask his contempt or glee at the circumstances. As the deputy sat the two down and stood guard over them, the sheriff stomped into the master bedroom. The sound that followed was less like a search and more like a vicious ransacking.

Mr. Franks' expression hardened, and he exchanged a glance with his wife, who sat, shocked and worried. He turned back to glare at the deputy, angry that the sheriff would use the pretext of a lawful search to be so utterly vindictive and nasty. Unseen to the deputy, his hand slipped into his pants pocket, and he slid out his cell phone, handing it to his wife.

June knew what was expected of her. She rose defiantly, ignoring the nervous look from the deputy. "I have a pie in the oven," she announced sternly, "and after all the work I put into it, I'm not going to let it burn." She marched to the oven, leaving the deputy gawking at her, glancing back and forth between husband and wife, unsure quite what to do. He fixed his wary gaze back on Mr. Franks, whose expression was extreme ire as the sound of destruction from the other side of the house continued.

Unseen by the deputy, June flipped open the phone and tapped a quick text message, then sent it. That done, she fussed over the oven, checking its contents and extracting the pie as she shut the oven off.

"I would offer you a piece," she said through clenched teeth at the deputy, "but as this is hardly a social call, you'll understand if I don't feel like being too friendly."

"Your pie is safe. Now sit back down," the deputy commanded harshly.

Five agonizingly long minutes later, after listening to the continued rampage the sheriff was doing through their personal belongings, the door burst open. Surprised, the deputy spun in his chair, his gun raised. He started when he recognized the uniforms of the two large men who were entering the house.

"Mr. Franks?" the state trooper asked, seeing Mr. Franks sitting at the table.

"Sheriff Clarkson is executing a search warrant for my daughter," Franks said, straining to control his anger.

The state troopers nodded. One looked at the deputy. "Be seated," he commanded, gesturing at the table. The other trooper turned toward the noise. "Come with me, please, Mr. and Mrs. Franks." The trio followed the noise back into the master suite.

Mrs. Franks gasped, stopping in the door. "My lord!" she cried, looking at the complete mess that had once been a tidy bedroom. All the dresser drawers were upended, their content strewn about, The bed had been hurled yanked violently from its frame, and the bedding was scattered, one sheet even torn. From atop her dresser, her jewelry box had obviously been tossed; it lay in pieces, her jewelry scattered.

"Sheriff Clarkson," the trooper barked impassively, even though his jaw was clenched.

The sheriff emerged angrily from the master bath and closet, his hand on the butt of his gun. He froze in the doorway when he recognized the uniform of the state trooper. "I'm executing a search warrant," he snarled.

"Let me see the warrant," the trooper demanded.

Obligingly, the sheriff handed the document to the trooper, who scanned it. "It seems to be in order."

Sheriff Clarkson nodded, sneering at Mr. Franks. "I told you."

"But your search constitutes abuse of power and reckless and unnecessary destruction of private property in the execution of a warrant, excessive in terms of the object of the search," the state trooper continued.

"I have a warrant!" Clarkson snarled.

"You are looking for a person, not a mouse," the state trooper replied. "Your search is unnecessarily destructive." He turned to Mrs. Franks. "Get your camera and document any and all damage."

"Now since you have a legal warrant," the trooper continued, "you may either allow us to supervise your search, within the constraints of reasonable search, or I will place you and your deputy under arrest for at least three felony counts relating to abuse of your lawful authority."

Clarkson seethed, his face beet red with anger. "Very well," he conceded.

Forty minutes later, the troopers escorted the sheriff and deputy to their cars after completing a search of all of the farm buildings.

The larger of the two state troopers stood by the open door of Clarkson's car. "As of this moment, the state trooper's office, under the authority of the State's Attorney General, is assuming jurisdiction over any and all law-enforcement matters related to these premises. The State's Attorney General's office will be notified of the abuse of power that may have been exercised here, and will be contacting you regarding investigation of this incident, including the possibility of termination of your service in public office, and possibly criminal charges. Do you understand, sir?"

Clarkson sat in his car, hatred burning in his eyes. "Yes," he said through clenched teeth.

"If you or your deputy set foot on these premises, it will be considered unlawful trespass, and you will be prosecuted. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Leave now." The two officers and the two Franks watched the sheriff and deputy angrily drive from the farm.

"He'll be back," Franks commented. "His kind never gives up."

"No he won't," the trooper assured the couple. "By this evening, he and his deputy will be relieved of duty and will be under arrest." He smiled. "The AG has been waiting for something like this for three years. He wants to squash any anti-mutant officers who abuse their power committing unlawful acts against mutants."

After documenting the damage, the two troopers drove off to file their reports, leaving Mrs. Franks the task of cleaning up the mess in the master suite and the two kids' bedrooms that Sheriff Clarkson had wrought. In Kayda's room, as she squatted beside the dresser, a tear rolled down her cheek as she looked at the remains of a clock mechanism that Brandon had made when he was seven - all of wood. Clarkson had smashed it indiscriminately as he used the warrant as an excuse for his own personal vendetta. She looked around Brandon's - Kayda's - room, crying at the torn pictures, the broken mechanisms that had been her child's pride and joy.

Overwhelmed momentarily, she went back to the kitchen, to something that seemed normal and sane and unbroken. As she pulled out a chair to sit for a moment, the phone rang.

"Franks residence," she answered, trying to sound like her usual chipper self.

"Mrs. Franks?" a frightened girl's voice sounded in her ear. "I need your help. Please!"

* * * * * *

Melville Hall, Room 407 - after dinner

"You cannot begin to know 'ow 'elpful you are with your assistance," Adalie said as she closed her algebra homework.

I blushed, shrugging. "I'm glad I could help. Especially after all the help you've been giving me in sparring."

Alicia laughed. "It wasn't 'til Adalie got a letter from her friend back home that she decided to get a mite serious about learning to fight."

Adalie's cheeks reddened. "Oui," she admitted softly. "Madam Rousseaux told me of 'ow she started 'ere at Whateley, and 'ow she was determined to never fight, like me. And then she became a super-'ero almost by accident."

Alicia nodded. "We'll have t' be on a training team next year," she said. "So both of us were thinking that we should get better at fighting."

"Oui," Adalie added, a mischievous smile on her face. "And if we can learn from your tutor, none of the senseis will know 'ow much we can fight, so we can surprise everyone in the combat finals this spring."

"And not get beat up so bad," Alicia added with a grinning glance at Adalie.

"Oui," Adalie acknowledge with another blush, "that, too."

"As long as Mr. Two Knives doesn't object, I don't mind you two learning with me." I shuddered inward a tiny bit at the thought of learning without someone accompanying me. "In fact, I kind of prefer having company."

Adalie glanced at Alicia, and then looked at Kayda. "Is there some reason we should know? Some reason why you only spar and train with girls?"

"Yes," I said, letting my gaze drop to the floor so they couldn't see the anguish on my face. "But ... it's personal."

Adalie moved to one side of me, and Alicia to the other, like they instinctively knew that I needed support. "Were you ... you know?" Alicia asked softly.

I sat for a few seconds before nodding slightly. "Yeah. That's why I had problems today. Sometimes ... just bumping into a guy is enough to trigger it."

"We promise we won't tell anyone," Adalie said, and Alicia echoed her agreement.

"One time, I was training, and ... I had a flashback ... and I kind of ... lost control." I shook my head. "If I'd have been fighting real people, I might have killed them."

"From what Ah heard of y'all's fight," Alicia drawled, "y'all should make your own training team, 'cause everyone said you fought pretty well together."

I chuckled, drawn out of my momentary funk by her comment. "I'm in no hurry to start or join a training team."

"You should think of it," Adalie said, "before the administration assigns you to one, with people you don't like."

"That's something I've thought of more than once," I admitted. "But I'm not ready. Not yet." I smiled at them. "Besides, with the kinds of enemies I have, who'd want to be on a team with me? It'd be too dangerous."

Adalie bit her lip for a moment. "If you wanted, I would fight on a team with you," she admitted softly.

"So would Ah," Alicia echoed.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

"And thank you for your math help," Adalie added again. "Without it, I probably would not pass this term."

"I'm a TA for math, so I might as well help," I said, smiling.

Adalie's eyes lit up as a thought crossed her mind. "If you are still behind in French, I could 'elp you in exchange for your 'elp in Algebra."

"Swapping tutoring?" I asked, surprised.

"Sure," Alicia said. "Adalie's helpin' me so Ah sound a little more sophisticated," she grinned. "Mah ma'll be plenty pleased."

"You mean it?" I started to extend my hand for a handshake to seal the deal, but instead, I wrapped my arms around her. "Deal."

* * * * * *

Between Poe an Melville, near curfew

I barely noticed a movement in my peripheral vision, and at the same time, the sky spirit was disturbed. Those two things made me hesitate slightly and turn toward the motion, with the result that the blow hit me square on my jaw. Before I could even react, or fall, a second punch hit my lower rib cage.

Why is it always the ribs, I asked myself as I crumpled.

Almost automatically, since I'd done it so often, I called up my shield spell, in time to block the side-kick that my assailant was trying to deliver. Whoever was attacking me was quick, but at least not a speedster.

I rolled, as I'd been trained, and came up on my feet in a ready stance. In the dim light of the walkway lights that were a ways off, my attacker was a shadow, a dark-gray, wraith-like figure with a flowing cloak and some kind of headpiece covering all the figure's features and hair so that all I saw of the face was mouth, chin, and the whites of eyes through eye-slits. Based on the size and what I _could_ see of the face, I was reasonably certain that it was a girl attacking me. She was shorter than me, and a little more slender, and I could see her pull something from her belt.

Holy shit, she had a knife. My hand dropped to my side, pulling out Wakan Mila, as she swung her knife at my shield. My certainty that she was about to be disappointed was short-lived when sparks flew and a fractal pattern radiated outward from where her knife hit the magical barrier. I stood, stunned momentarily at the realization that my foe had some type of magical weapon that had just collapsed my spell, but I moved again as she slashed downward toward me.

My shoulder exploded in an unnatural pain as her knife poked through the fabric of my shirt and light jacket, and my entire arm went limp as I cried out in pain. Wakan Mila fell to the ground out of my useless hand.

This was as real as the snake-demon, I realized belatedly. My attacker swung again, but this time, I blocked the arm holding her knife while closing and bring my knee up and around, into her side. She staggered momentarily, so I followed up with a side kick to her stomach, causing her to double over. I reminded myself that I had to fight like Hoka.

We traded blows - her kicking and punching with her free hand, while trying to stab me with her weapon, while I had to use my one arm to block her stabs. The result was that I was getting hit a lot more than I was hitting, even though I'd avoided her knife.

She was tough, that was certain. I got a good kick which stunned her, and I followed up with a side kick in her abdomen, which knocked the wind out of her. Even with that, she managed to bring the knife down into my kicking leg, and again, agony coursed through my body from the entry point. As I regained my balance, I realized that she might not be using a knife, since my wounds felt like puncture wounds and not slashes or cuts.

Struggling to keep my balance on my injured leg, I stepped toward her, my palm moving upward with a quick thrust into her chin. She staggered, and not wanting her to recover the initiative, I kicked again, this time at her knee. A loud pop sounded as she collapsed, and as she crumpled to the ground, I staggered on my injured leg and fell down.

About that time, I heard the sounds of boots running. Please, let it be security! My assailant, getting back to her feet, looked at me, nearly helpless, and then down the path where the sounds were coming from. After a brief hesitation, she turned and fled into the darkness from whence she'd come.

"Not again, Kayda," one of the officers said wearily.

"Yeah. Some girl attacked me without provocation, so I had to defend myself," I explained.

"Where is she?"

I pointed. "She ran off just before you got here."

"Breen, Wilkinson, go check the area." The officer clicked a microphone on his shirt. "Dispatch, student was assaulted with a weapon at our location. Attacker apparently fled. Victim is injured."

"Harris," his radio blared in response, "do you have an identity for either?"

Sergeant Harris looked at me. I shook my head. "She was wearing a hood so I couldn't see her features."

"Negative ID on the assailant. Victim is Kayda Franks."

The officer on the other end of the radio groaned aloud. "Again?"

"Yes. At least there's no sign of the buffalo this time," he snorted.

"I didn't have time to manifest him," I answered.

"How bad are you hurt?" the other officer asked as he examined me.

"She used some kind of knife or weapon," I noted, having sat up and holding my good hand over the wound in my right shoulder. "She stabbed me twice."

"Do we need to get you to medical?"

I could feel the tingling in the wounds. "Probably."

Harris glanced at me. "Can you walk?"

I stared at him in disbelief, and then looked at my leg. "I don't think so," I replied, trying not to sound snarky. "Not with a hole in my leg."

Sergeant Harris heard. "Dispatch, we need transport to take the victim to Doyle."

"Copy. We've got backup and medical transport are enroute."

"I dropped my knife," I added, "when she stabbed me the first time. I think it's over there," I tilted my head in the direction I thought my knife was.

* * * * * *

Doyle Medical Complex

Once more, I was lying on a hospital bed in Doyle, bleeding still from the wounds. They tingled oddly. "My wounds ... aren't healing," I noted to Dr. Guitterez, who'd just finished examining me. "I can feel it.

Dr. Guitterez frowned."I noticed that."

"It feels like ...." My eyes popped wide open. "Like when I got shot. By Matthews."

"Huh?"

"The bullets - they were tainted by a snake-demon, so my wounds weren't healing." I forced myself to stay calm, because I suddenly realized what my attacker had used. "She had ... my copper spike," I said.

"What? A copper spike?"

"Where's Sergeant Harris?" I practically demanded.

"Right here, waiting for the doc to finish so I can get a statement," he answered.

"You should have reports of a missing copper spike, right?"

Harris frowned. "I don't recall ..."

"Check with the duty officer! It's very important!"

Within a minute, Harris confirmed my story about the spike. "What's so special about this copper thing?" he asked.

"It's from a Native American water panther, a Mishibijiw. One attacked me when Mom and I were driving here. It was ... insane because of the snake demon, the same one that infected Officer Matthews. The same one we killed in town this last weekend."

"Okay," Harris said slowly, not quite comprehending.

"The spike - it's got the same taint on it that was on Matthews. And on the snake demon. She ... got the missing spike and used it to attack me." I glanced at the doctor. "That's why my healing isn't working - the wounds are tainted."

"Should I call for someone from magic arts?" Dr. Guitterez asked.

"No," I said firmly. "I ... think I have enough magic to clean my wounds."

I had them leave while I prepared the solution. It was worse-tasting than I'd remembered, and I nearly gagged. When I finished it, I could feel my healing at work.

While I lay on the bed healing, Sergeant Harris questioned me about the attack, any clues about the attacker, any known enemies I might have, and what seemed like a thousand other small details.

By the time the questioning was done, my leg was healed enough that Dr. Guitterez allowed me to go back to my cottage instead of spending the night in the hospital - after I insisted very strongly. Some might say I had a fit, but that would be an exaggeration - a bit.

While Sergeant Harris and another officer walked me back to Poe, I slipped into dream-space for a moment

"Wakan Tanka," I began as I walked to the fire circle.

"What is it, Wihakayda?"

"I don't understand something. How is it that I can hold the copper spikes, but others can't without being tainted?"

Wakan Tanka smiled wearily. "The Ptesanwi is magically attuned to the energies of spirits of the People, as well as the People's enemies and friends."

"Like Unhcegila?"

She nodded. "And many others that are part of the People."

"Does that mean I can handle Class X energy or spirits?"

"No, Wihakayda!" she said firmly. "Other such energies or spirits could easily shatter your mind and your soul. You must not even think of trying to do such a thing."

I nodded solemnly. "I have heard of the results," I said. "I have _no_ desire to try that out for myself."

"Good." She smiled and handed me a piece of jerky. "It's very difficult to train a new Ptesanwi, and I don't want to have to start over." I gaped at her, and she chuckled. Sometimes, she had an odd sense of humor.

Mrs. Horton was waiting for me when I got back to Poe. Not surprisingly, Evvie and Rosalyn were also waiting for me. I had to answer a barrage of questions, and then, exhausted, I dragged myself to bed. I didn't remember my head hitting the pillow.

* * * * * *

Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Laird Hall, 2^nd Period

As soon as Senseis Ito and Tolman walked into the gym, I knew I was in for a long class. Ito had a smug expression, and he looked directly at me as he went to the center, pausing long enough to shoot me an unmistakable know-it-all smirk. Oh, freakin' joy. I dreaded what was going to happen next.

Ito called Alicia and me to the center mat to demonstrate what we'd learned the previous day - only she got to use her powers, and I didn't. On top of that, because I'd really drained myself late into the night removing the taint from myself and my attacker, I was physically exhausted and almost out of essence. Without any magic to boost it, healing had gone very slowly, and my wounds still hurt like hell.

As soon as Sensei said 'hajime', Alicia concentrated, and I felt the room wobble a little. I knew what her power was - she was dropping my blood pressure to make me woozy. Staggering slightly, fighting off the headrush as well as residual pain from last night's injuries, I dashed toward her to break her concentration.

It was exactly what she wanted. As soon as I was within range, still a little unsteady, she quit using her power, which was taking most of her concentration, and punched right at my face. I only partially blocked it, and I staggered back stunned, narrowly missing a follow-up roundhouse kick. I shook my head to clear the last effects of the headrush, still not quite focused enough to go on the offensive, which was okay with Alicia; she was attacking with great vigor.

The three rounds were not fun; she was getting better control of her power, and she used it effectively on me. In the first round, she had me dizzy enough often enough that I was mostly on the defensive, and she threw me out of the ring. In the second, I charged at her too quickly for her to get her power active, and after a vicious flurry of kicks, jabs, and blocks, I drove her out of the ring. The third round was just as frenzied, but when I got her in an arm bar, rather than resist, she used her power, and as I wobbled unsteadily, unable to stay focused, she pulled out of my hold and gave me a side kick. I tumbled, and landed outside the ring - again.

Then I had to spar against Adalie, once more without my powers. Once more, I won only one of the three rounds, the first, when her speed worked against her. It wasn't so much skill on my part as luck; I ducked at just the right moment when she zipped in to attack me. That left her off balance just enough that she wobbled as she fought to regain her balance. She almost was too quick for me; but I was lucky to hit her just enough that she stepped out of the ring. Barely. But it counted. After that first round, she was much more careful, and against her speed, I could do nothing without my magic, so I was pretty sore by the time she beat me into submission in the second round because I couldn't stop any of her strikes. In the third round, as soon as Ito said 'hajime', I turned, and deliberately stepped out of the ring, glaring at him as I did so.

"At least you didn't give up without fighting last night, Pejuta," he said sternly.

"I could use my magic last night," I shot back angrily.

"But magic in your assailant's weapon neutralized your shield spell, and you were subsequently injured."

"Yeah, and then you decide to make me fight again this morning, when I'm not healed, and you probably know it from the reports?" I snapped.

"The point is that you fought to win last night. Unlike your last match. What does that demonstrate?"

"That I can fight," I acknowledged glumly. "When it's important."

"Yes. And perhaps that this class is more useful than you thought? Back to your position."

I shot him one more angry glare, and then I limped back to the edge of the mat. "Sunkce!" I muttered angrily under my breath. I seriously doubted anyone would be able to translate the Lakota term for dog-shit, but the sentiment was still perfectly clear.

"Do you have something to add, Pejuta?" Sensei Tolman demanded.

I turned my head to her, and saw the frown on her face. "No, Sensei," I said quickly.

We practiced more, all the while my shoulder and leg throbbed painfully. I was using my essence as fast as it was accumulating to fight the pain and keep from collapsing, so there was none left to fuel my healing.

Outside the locker room, Sensei Tolman was waiting for me. "A moment please, Kayda."

"Yes, Sensei?"

"After the break, you'll eventually be sparring with all students, in both classes."

"What?!? You _know_ I can't do that because of ...." I didn't need to remind her of my PTSD.

"If you can't get past that weakness, your opponents will use it against you," Tolman said firmly. I knew she was correct.

"When we spar, the boy will ... grab me ... in ways they shouldn't," I protested.

"And you're no different in that regard from any other girl in class. And like all the other girls, if a boy does something inappropriate, you are justified in applying a corrective lesson. Or in letting Sensei Ito or me know of the behavior."

* * * * * *

Just before lunch, the Native American group charter committee met with Mr. Lodgeman to review our presentation. Apart from a few minor changes, he was satisfied, so he made an appointment for us to present our proposal to the administration on Thursday. It happened to coincide with second period, so I would get out of Ito-torture for at least one day. After the other two left, Mr. Lodgeman let me know that I was scheduled for power testing starting at eleven on Thursday as well. With the meeting, I would be excused from most of my classes. After the testing that had been done in Sioux Falls, I wasn't really looking forward to repeating the ordeal, especially the dodge-ball thing with cannonballs being shot at me from all directions. At least that's what it had felt like. And lucky me - I got to do it again.

Because of the meeting, I was late to lunch, which began as a disaster and got worse. Stormwolf noticed me walking alone through Schuster toward the caf, and he decided to escort me, which drew a lot of notice that I'd have rather done without. That, in turn, drew a number of comments, catcalls, and requests for autographs, which had me red from embarrassment and anger. And if that wasn't bad enough, in my haste, I'd sometimes been forgetting my magic shield spells, and the pranks would hit me. My food wasn't affected that day, but when I was bussing my tray, an indoor wind gust blew my skirt up, just like the famous Marilyn Monroe screen clip. In my haste to push my skirt down, I dropped my tray, which clattered noisily and drew more attention my way. The cheering and hooting from the guys was utterly humiliating, and I cast a ghost-walking spell and ran from the caf.

And if that wasn't bad enough, somewhere in the mess someone swiped a book again. I expected that I'd find it in my locker - again - which practically announced that someone was using magic to harass me. I was going to have be more diligent about keeping my anti-magic spell active nearly all the time, I feared. Unfortunately, that burned essence that I needed to keep Wakan Mila charged and to cleanse the rest of my copper spikes. I was eager to get that task done because Wakan Tanka wanted me to make some charms from them to hold spells for me. With the magic of the Mishibijiw, a shield charm would be far stronger than one cast by my magic alone.

* * * * * *

Electronics Lab, Beneath Kane Hall

I was starting to have fun in Electronics after finally getting all caught up. We were building a power amplifier circuit from scratch - no voltage regulators, no integrated circuits. Just discrete components, our notebooks, and occasional hints and help from our instructor. As usual, other kids from other gadgeteer and devisor labs would come into the classroom and wait until Ms. Merenis wasn't occupied with us so they could talk with her about more advanced labs and projects.

One girl who walked in caught my attention for some reason. I watched her march determinedly across the room and stop with almost military precision by Ms. Merenis' desk. She was short and a tiny bit stout, not at all like an exemplar, and quite nerdy-looking. Her brown hair was frizzy and unkempt, in a style that even I knew wasn't attractive. There was something in her appearance that fairly screamed "arrogant attitude". Was this girl more typical of the labs than Bugs and Delta Spike?

After getting something signed by Ms. Merenis, she turned with Teutonic precision and started to march back out of the room, but as she passed one lab bench, she stopped abruptly.

"Vat are you doing?" she asked in a clipped German accent.

"I'm building a power amplifier," Delwin answered. His voice had a hint of nervousness that I'd not heard from him before.

"I can see zat," the girl proclaimed arrogantly. "Except you are only going to make smoke and sparks. You are doing it all wrong!" She leaned over the bench. "Look here," she lectured, "the feedback circuit picking up at the wrong point. It is inadequate, ja? Und without proper feedback, the drive circuit will respond by trying to force more current through the transformer, ja?"

"Okay," Delwin said hesitantly. "But it's got to have feedback to ...."

"Pay attention here," the girl snapped. "Zis is all wrong! You vant to pick up feedback _here_!" she said very sternly.

" I've got this feedback circuit here," Delwin protested mildly.

"Ja," the girl nodded. "But the placement is wrong."

"No," Delwin argued. "It divides the output voltage with this resistor network and drives this transistor to be the current limiter."

"Nein, nein," the girl countered sharply. The two began a rather one-sided debate, where she sternly and unrelentingly corrected Delwin's circuit design, which he had tried to optimize but had apparently made a mistake in.

Delwin finally shook his head, frowning. "I don't see what's wrong."

"Ach!" the girl snorted. "You have the filter backwards," she exclaimed. "The way you have it wired, the high-frequency ripple will bias the limiter off, and poof!" She threw up her hands dramatically. "It will be like everything Delta Spike makes!"

"But ... I ...." Delwin started to protest.

"It is wrong. Versteh?"

'Oh, God,' I found myself thinking, 'please don't let her come over here!' My impression was that she was an arrogant, condescending, rude, pompous, know-it-all. Then I had a horrifying thought - if she was poking her nose into other people's business, was _she_ the Gadgeteer Goddess that I'd heard so much about? Was this Loophole, the one I'd heard so much of and was beginning to fear meeting?

Delwin nodded as I watched, horrified. "Okay, I see it," he said after studying the circuit diagram again. "Thanks, Wundy."

"Try not to fry too many components," she added curtly. "Some of us need them for our own projects." She turned abruptly and walked out of the room

Wundy? I puzzled for a moment. Oh, she must be Wunderkind, one of the Berets who Adalie had mentioned. Then I had an even worse thought - if Wunderkind was _this_ arrogant, how bad was the _real_ Gadgeteer Goddess?

Bugs came by after my class to walk with me to Laird. She didn't have to, but I enjoyed her perky, bubbly-happy company. I wouldn't mind at all if _she_ was the queen of the labs; she was just so darned nice. As we walked, I heard a faint sound, like "vtt, vtt, vtt, vtt" in the distance, but growing closer quickly. Around us, students scrambled to clear the tunnel, and Bugs pulled me aside only a couple of seconds before a powered anti-grav chair barely able to get underneath rolling folds of fat from the extremely obese occupant.

"Slow down, you asshole!" one guy shouted after the rapidly vanishing chair. His words were the most polite of all the commentary.

"Who ... _what_ was that?" I stammered.

"Belphegor," Bunny spat. "He's a thieving, self-absorbed, egotistical, miserable excuse for a human being." I'd never heard her so upset at anyone. This Belphegor must have been a total asshole to get her that spitting-mad. " I thought Mrs. Carson barred him from using his chair!" she added angrily.

"She didn't have a choice," another guy who'd overheard us chimed in. "Belfatso got a stress fracture in his foot, so the administration had to let him use it until his foot is healed."

"He probably got it because he's not used to lugging around all that lard!" a guy with Anna spat. " If someone were to have time to carve all the blubber off of him, all you'd find in the middle is a big, stinky turd!" Like nearly everyone else in the tunnel at that moment, they'd had to dodge the menace in the chair, and the boy wasn't happy about it. From the way Anna was clinging to him, this had to be the boyfriend Jerry she talked about all the time in martial arts.

Anna frowned at him. "Be nice, Jerry," she said, swatting his arm lightly.

"Sorry," Jerry said unenthusiastically. His distaste for Belphegor was plain to see. "It's just that my foamed palladium hydrocarbon trap turned up in his lab."

Anna shrugged. "You can't blame him if you didn't see him take anything, because someone else could have taken it, and it ended up in a lost-and-found, and he didn't think it belonged to anyone, so he could have taken it by accident, and ...."

"Like the seven other registered items that were found in his lab, too?" Jerry asked a bit sarcastically.

"You're always so grumpy when you're hungry," Anna chided him jokingly. "Let's go get something for a light snack, but not sugary, because sugar makes me kind of hyper, especially in the afternoon, but maybe some fruit or something, so you're not grumpy, and then we can go to the library and you can help me with my homework in chemistry, because we're learning about organic molecules, and since you're so smart in chemistry, you can ...." Her voice faded off as they two walked, arm in arm, around a corner in the tunnel.

"She's always so perky," I observed as Bugs and I resumed our walk.

"Yeah, and she really likes you," Bugs said, in her own bubbly-happy style. "She really likes sparring with you in martial arts, too."

It took a second for me to recall that Bugs knew Anna from Wondercute, and that's how she would have heard about me sparring with Anna. I chuckled. "She's a good sparring partner. Unlike Jobe."

"Nobody likes Jobe," Bugs said, her voice betraying her exasperation with the arrogant Drow. She paused at a doorway. "I need to talk to someone quick. It won't take but a moment."

"Okay," I shrugged, following her into one of the general-purpose labs, a chaotic room with eight or ten work benches, all of which were occupied. Hunched over one bench was a large, hairy person in a lab coat - looking more than anything like mad-scientist Chewbacca, at least from the rear. Off in one corner, a girl was working, but as she turned, I could see that she seemed a hybrid of sexy girl and Godzilla - in a cute way.

At another bench, a trio was gathered around some project. At least, it _had been_ a project. The wisps of smoke wafting up from the bench and the mild cursing indicated quite clearly that something had gone wrong.

"I told you it would fail," one of the two boys said. He was short, thin, and had dark hair and a round face adorned with coke-bottle glasses. And his clothing beneath his lab coat looked like something only a style-impaired mother would pick out for her son.

The owner of the project looked rather dejected. "Yeah, I know Smokey," he said. "And I asked you to check it for me. But I thought I had that problem fixed."

"Looks like you didn't," the third student said. She was half a head taller than the one called Smokey, tall and thin with red hair and freckles. She looked the part of a girl who was either a tomboy, or was so secure in herself that she didn't feel a need to make herself look pretty.

"Yeah, I figured that part out by now, Maddy," the first guy said, his word dripping with sarcasm. Shaking his head, he continued. "When I get a new version designed, I'll give you a call to check it out, K?"

"Sure." Smokey and the girl Maddy and left the lab , with Maddy practically bouncing everywhere and talking nearly as non-stop as Anna. The contrast between them was striking; where he was walking slowly and steadily, unconcerned, she orbited him like a little bouncy superball. With ADHD. On speed.

"Who are those two?" I asked Bugs.

She looked. "Oh, them? Smoke Test and Madskillz."

"Does his name have anything to do with him frying a project over there?" I nodded my head toward the bench they'd been at.

"Yeah," Bugs said, bouncing perkily toward the door. "His skill is finding problems. The proverbial 'smoke test'. "

"And hers?"

Bugs wrinkled her nose. "I'm not really sure _what_ she does. She has to have some kind of skill to be in the labs, but no-one really knows."

In the hallways, we came across a rather foppish-looking guy dressed like he was straight out of the Victorian era. Early Victorian. With his cane. He seemed quite out of place by a century and a half. Worse, he had noticed us, and changed direction slightly.

"Good evening," he said pleasantly with a polite half-bow. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure." He extended his hand in greeting.

I glanced warily at Bugs, and then extended my hand; I could be polite enough to shake hand with him, although my hand was doing a good job shaking all on its own. But instead of shaking my hand, he bowed deeply, raising my hand and kissing it. Shaking furiously with fear, trying to control myself, I snatched my hand back and retreated a couple of steps from him. I'm sure my eyes were wide with horror as I fought back panic.

The boy looked oddly at me. "Funny," he commented warily. "Most girls don't react so ... strongly to making my acquaintance."

"Back off, Jay-Arm," Bugs said in a stern tone. "Kayda has more sense than most girls."

He tilted his head toward me. "Kayda, eh? I've heard of you. You and your buffalo have made quite a stir." He smiled. "I'm sorry if I ... startled you. Most girls, it seems, aren't used to someone behaving like a gentleman."

"I'm ... sorry ... I overreacted," I stammered nervously. I clutched Bugs' arm. "I need to get to Laird. My tutor is waiting." Without a glance over my shoulder, I tugged Bugs down the tunnel away from the boy. "Who ... was that?"

"Nephandus, also known as Jean Armand, or Jay-Arm," Bugs explained. "He's one of the Seeds." She shook her head. "Thinks he's God's gift to women."

We continued for a couple of dozen yards before we met a guy who was obviously staring at us. Bugs acted like it was no big deal, even when he walked into the frame of a security door because he was too distracted watching Bugs. Or me. _That_ thought wasn't exactly cheery.

"How can you giggle when guys ogle you like that?" I asked, puzzled by her lack of reaction.

"It's no big deal," she answered perkily.

"But, you're ...."

"Yeah. So?"

"It creeps me out."

Bugs wrapper her arm around my shoulder. "I understand," she said. Like all the girls in Poe, she knew _why_ guys frightened me.

"Is it always like this in the labs?" I wondered aloud as we rounded a corner.

Bugs laughed. "No. Sometimes it gets weird."

What I saw _wasn't_ considered weird? It was a normal day? And I wanted to get on the tech track so I could fiddle around with machinery like I used to? I suddenly wondered if my sanity had taken a vacation.

* * * * * *

Laird Hall

Instead of sparring, Mr. Two Knives had me put on my gi and then we walked past the groundskeeping buildings to the stables, where the school kept a few horses. According to some stories I'd heard, one of the students had ridden a horse to Whateley from Kentucky or Tennessee. I suppose that if the story was true, she kept her horse at the stables. I found that a little hard to believe, though.

Mr. Two Knives led me to a roan horse in a corral, separated from the other animals. Without waiting, he climbed over the fence, and speaking softly, walked to the horse. At first, I thought that he was going to spook the horse, but he walked up to the animal and stroked its neck. The horse seemed to accept him without problem, and after he'd moved to its side, he swung himself up on its back. At first, the horse started, surprised at the sudden load, but as Mr. Two Knives continued to talk to the horse and stroke its neck, it quickly calmed.

He shot a smile my way, and then he got the horse moving, guiding it using pressure on the horse's ribs from his knees, augmented with light tugs on the horse's mane. For several minutes, telling me what he was doing, he guided the horse as if the two were of one mind. It was impressive, but I feared that he was going to have me try. I was right.

He dismounted, and then called me over. I was very nervous about riding without a saddle; even getting up onto the horse was a trick, since there was no stirrup to use. With my exemplar strength, though, it turned out to be no problem to leap onto the horse's back, but as soon as I landed, he skittered a bit, which caused me to nearly fall off. Apparently my knees clamped tightly on the horse, which confused him and caused him to skitter some more. Fortunately for me, Mr. Two Knives held the horse and whispered to him, calming him, and after a bit, I was actually riding the horse bareback. Of course, he was leading the horse to keep it from getting away, because I'd just started, and it took a while for horse and rider to become accustomed to one another. Even with that, I was thrown three times, and I ached as we were finished.

As we walked back toward Laird, Mr. Two Knives explained that he'd been spending time at the corral every day when he wasn't teaching me, so that by the time I was ready to start riding, the horse would be used to being ridden Native American style. And by spending time with the horse and talking to it, he'd gotten it used to his presence. I would have to do the same. And then, lucky me, I bumped in to Rosalyn as I came out of Laird.

"You're stalking me," I said unhappily.

She smiled sweetly, a saccharine-laden smile that made me want to barf. "Why would I do that?" she asked. "You're going to the hot-tub party with me, so ..."

"I'm not going _with_ you," I countered, interrupting her. "That sounds like a date or something. I only agreed to go."

"If you say so," she continued her syrupy sweetness. "You're so cute when you think you're in control."

I sighed, and then groaned at a pain in my rear from being thrown off the horse. On top of that, my injuries from the previous night were still tender, and the training with the horse hadn't helped soothe those aches.

"Are you okay?" Her voice changed in a split-second from flirtatious to genuine concern.

"Mr. Two Knives started me doing horse training. I ... got thrown a couple of times." I could practically hear the gears turning in her mind. "I'm learning to ride Native American style. Bareback, with no bridle."

"Oh. That sounds ... challenging."

"Yeah. A lot harder than riding with a bridle and saddle, like I did back on the farm."

"You rode on your farm?"

"Yeah." I wasn't going to say more.

"Would you like to soak in the hot tub to help with those aches and pains?" Rosalyn asked. I couldn't tell if she was being suggestive or concerned.

"No. I've got to get back and tutor Ayla in math."

Rosalyn stutter-stepped at that. "You're tutoring ... Ayla?"

"Yeah. He's trying to get pre-calc and calc 1 done this term, and since I'm way ahead of those classes ...."

"You continue to surprise me."

I chuckled. "Here's another surprise - the hot-tub party? It's not a date."

* * * * * *

Melville Cottage, Room 407 - after dinner

I gathered up my French materials so I could get back to Poe before curfew. "What are you guys doing for spring break?" I asked, making conversation.

"Ah'm going to New York City," Alicia said happily. "Pa has some business there, so Ma wants me to see some museums and stuff. Probably a play on Broadway, too."

"That sounds like fun," I commented.

"Yeah. Ah haven't seen mah folks since Christmas, and I kinda miss 'em."

"How about you?" I asked Adalie.

She sighed heavily. "Non, I am not traveling. It is too long a journey to go to France for one week, and with the difficulties I 'ad with my 'ometown, it would not be wise." She sounded rather sad. "'Ow about you? Are you going 'ome?"

"I hope so," I replied wistfully. "I'm at least going back to visit my friends in Sioux Falls, but ... I may not be able to go to my home. There are complications."

"What type of complications?" Adalie asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Severe mutophobia," I said after thinking of how to innocuously say what happened. "It might not be safe for me."

"I understand that," Adalie said sadly. "My 'ome has the same thing, despite Madame Rousseaux and Soeur Justice trying to convince people that mutants are not evil."

"And it's possible that Mrs. Carson might not even let me go."

"Oh?" Alicia asked. "Why not?"

"You know that snake-demon my friends and I fought the other night?" They both nodded. "He has one or two brothers back in South Dakota. And I suspect they're going to be a bit pissed that I killed their brother."

"Well," Alicia grinned, "y'all killed one of 'em. Ah'm sure you won't have any problems killing another."

I shook my head, exhaling slowly. "I couldn't have done it alone," I explained. "So if I have to face another snake-demon alone, I'm not sure I could handle it."

"Sure ya can!" Alicia said enthusiastically. "Then y'all will have two trophies."

"Well, I hope Mrs. Carson lets me go, and I hope I can go home. I miss my parents." I fought a bit of emotion at that one; it was hard to admit that my parents were that important to me, a teenager. As I recalled the stereotype, we were supposed to be rebelling against parents. "Heck, I even miss my little brother," I added with a chuckle.

"It's too bad Adalie is goin' to be stuck on campus," Alicia commented, sad for her roommate. She gave her friend a brief hug. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "Unless ...."

"Unless what?" the two of us asked in unison and warily.

"Well, y'all are going t' South Dakota, and Adalie isn't. I was just thinkin' that it'd be neat if y'all both went there."

"What?" Adalie asked, surprised at the idea.

"Yeah. Y'all could spend time workin' on y'all's math, and Kayda could work on her French some, plus y'all'd get off campus for a bit."

"Non," Adalie said quickly. "I would 'ate to impose."

"That's a good idea," I countered, immediately warming to the concept. "Maybe we could get a side trip to the Black Hills," I added. "They're absolutely gorgeous, and there are some neat attractions like Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse. And there's a mammoth site in the southern Hills." Okay, I was waxing enthusiastic about my home state. Who wouldn't?

"But ... to impose on your parents and your friends!" Adalie protested. From her tone, I figured her objections were weakening and that she really wanted to get off campus.

"Let's find out." A quick call confirmed that not only didn't Mom object, but she thought it was a wonderful idea. A second call confirmed that the Sioux Falls League, and Debra in particular, were happy to host Adalie if she wanted to come. I think Debra was relieved that I'd have a traveling companion.

"And don't worry about the cost," I added I'd ended my conversation with Debra. "Mom and Dad will cover the tickets."

"I don't know," Adalie said nervously. "I still feel like I'm imposing. And my papa can pay for my travel."

"It's settled. You're coming to South Dakota with me." The thought of Adalie coming with me made me feel more comfortable; I hadn't realized how nervous I was about traveling home until I felt the relief of a travel companion.

* * * * * *

Thursday, April 5, 2007, 2nd period
Schuster Hall

Lifeline, Thunderbird, Slapshot, and Mr. Lodgeman sat on one side of the conference table, while Mrs. Carson, Ms. Hartford, and Mrs. Shugendo sat on the other. I, unfortunately, stood at the head of the table, with my presentation displayed on the wall behind me. There was no podium for me to hide behind, so my wobbly knees and shaking hands were on display.

I didn't know quite what to think, because there had been almost no questions during the presentation. Instead, the three women sat stony-faced and quiet, making me more and more nervous that they were hostile to my idea.

"Any questions?" I asked as the last slide of my charts displayed. I was certain that my voice was quavering and they all knew how uneasy I was.

"Interesting proposal," Mrs. Shugendo was the first to speak. "What percentage of the students would be interested?"

I was hoping that Mr. Lodgeman would save me, but he didn't. Instead, Lifeline spoke up. "According to the data we have, between eighteen and twenty-two students are fully-enrolled tribal members, and the estimate is that there are at least another dozen students who have Native American ancestry but aren't enrolled in any tribe."

"And we estimate that there would probably be another ten to fifteen students who would be interested in Native American culture."

"So your estimate is that from between twenty and forty-five students would be interested in this group?" Ms. Hartford asked pointedly. "Far less than ten percent of the student body?"

I started to respond, but Mr. Lodgeman beat me to the punch. "Less than five-percent of the student body is involved in the Future SuperHeroes of America," he said, his voice deceptively calm, "and yet that's a recognized and _funded_ organization."

"That group is closely aligned with the goals of Whateley as a service to the general mutant community," Ms. Hartford shot back.

"Have you given any thought to incorporating part of these interests into coursework?" Mrs. Shugendo asked carefully. "For example, Native American history, or religions?"

Lifeline picked up the ball. "We discussed it, but didn't focus on it right now because that would require more work to propose and initiate courses on these topics." She smiled at Mrs. Shugendo. "We figured it was more appropriate for the administration to handle that aspect."

Give her credit - she knew how to not ruffle feathers.

"It is very late in the scholastic year," Ms. Hartford commented acidly. "It's unrealistic to expect that we could approve and fund such a group this late. In fact," she continued, not allowing Mr. Lodgeman to reply, "we're nearly completed with budgeting for the next school year, so it's not likely that we could fund a new group next year, either."

"We're not asking for funding this year," I interjected, a little upset at the hostile attitude of Ms. Hartford. "We're looking for recognition as a student organization so we would have access to resources like the simulators and ranges for Native American-specific activities."

"The simulators are heavily booked," Ms. Hartford interrupted again. "With the mandatory training that has to occur for legitimate academic purposes ...."

"And yet groups like ROTC and FSHA use significant simulator time for activities and training for which they get no academic credit," Mr. Lodgeman interrupted her, his tone belying his inscrutable expression.

"But the simulators can't accommodate every group ...."

"Enough," Mrs. Carson halted the argument with her command voice. "Are there any other questions?" she asked, glancing at Mrs. Shugendo and Ms. Hartford.

Both shook their heads 'no'.

"Okay. What's your recommendation? Mrs. Shugendo?"

"Approve. It could be a very good cultural asset. And it may be possible for Mr. Lodgeman to pursue some Bureau of Indian Affairs grant money to help fund the group."

"Interesting idea. So noted. Ms. Hartford?"

"Disapprove. It's too small a group, and it's not clear that it fits our mission statement."

"Your recommendations are noted. As headmistress, it's my decision, and I believe the new group will be an asset to the school. I further believe that there is potential to offer some unique cross-cultural coursework based on the group, and it has potential to improve our relations with and deepen our ties with the Medawihla tribe. Mr. Lodgeman, I recommend strongly that you work with the history and religion departments to see if courses can be developed." She smiled at him. "Assuming that you're willing to take on that task."

Mr. Lodgeman nodded. "It'll be my pleasure."

"Very well. The group is approved. I believe you want to call it 'The Nations'?"

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, stunned almost beyond words that our proposal was going to be implemented. "Oyate in Lakota, meaning nations or tribes."

"Very well. I'd like Ms. Hartford, Mr. Lodgeman, and Kayda to remain after for a few moments. You students should get back to your classes. Thank you for your excellent work on the proposed charter and presentation." She waited for Mrs. Shugendo, Slapshot, Scott, and Maggie to leave, and then she gestured for me to sit.

"We're having a few problems here, and I want to get them resolved," she said, her voice firm and unyielding.

"What sort of problems?" Ms. Hartford asked suspiciously.

Mrs. Carson's expression was rock-hard and unemotional. She was more frightening that way, because there was no visible clue as to what she was thinking. "Kayda encountered difficulties in registration. Her transcripts were not sent to her advisor. She was placed in classes that she had already taken, and she was not placed in a key class that she should have taken." She saw Ms. Hartford start to object, and she held up her hand. "Further, her power testing has been delayed due to paperwork snafus. Some of the reports from Security have been falsified, making it appear that Kayda is a significant threat."

My jaw dropped at that last bit of news. I hadn't heard that. Things were worse than I'd thought.

"The delay in in-processing made her first few days very inconvenient, to say the least." She looked at Ms. Hartford and Mr. Lodgeman. "I want to know why."

"Some of the other students I advise have had similar difficulties," Mr. Lodgeman commented levelly, eyeing Ms. Hartford, "when their paperwork goes through a certain administrative office."

"Are you accusing me of ...?"

"Stop it!" Mrs. Carson snapped, half rising out of her chair, wearing her expression of 'Supreme Executive Authority'. "Both of you, stop!" She waited until both were looking at her. "Now, Ms. Hartford, if you didn't do anything with Kayda's records, then I strongly suggest that you look at the computer systems, because _someone_ did!"

"That's not possible," Ms. Hartford protested.

"Somebody altered her records," Mrs. Carson retorted. "If it wasn't you, I would think you'd be very interested in finding out who and how." She glanced back and forth between the two. "Now you two, knock it off! I know you don't exactly like each other, and I don't expect you to become friends, but I _do_ expect you to not use students as pawns in your personal feud. Is that clear?"

Ms. Hartford glared at Mr. Lodgeman. "Yes," she said.

"Charlie?"

"Agreed."

"If necessary, I will ensure that neither of you handles any paperwork associated with students being advised by the other. I hope it won't come to that." She waited until both shook their heads no. "Good. Ms. Hartford, you need to look at the computer records to see if you can find out _who_ altered Kayda's records. We don't want such things happening again."

She gestured for me to remain seated a moment while Ms. Hartford and Mr. Lodgeman left the room. After the door shut, she turned to me, her expression stern. "The goings-on in this office are not to be the subject of campus gossip and rumor. Do I make myself clear?"

I gulped at the implied threat. "Yes, ma'am. To quote Sergeant Schultz, 'I hear nothing!'"

Mrs. Carson smiled. "Very good. Now I believe you are scheduled for power testing - finally. You better get going so you're not late."

* * * * * *

Testing was even less fun than the arduous day I'd spent testing in Sioux Falls, if that was possible. The labs and power testing folks had a _lot_ more resources than the Sioux Falls League, and I was quickly convinced that they wanted to use every one of their devises and gadgets as often as possible - in this case, with me as the guinea pig.

Within the first few minutes, it was pretty well confirmed that the League's assessment of me as an Exemplar 2 was accurate; despite that, I spent a lot more time testing, including mental tests. I managed - barely - to keep from laughing aloud when their verbal tests were above normal, the memory test was very good, and the math test was off the scale. That set of results inspired a huge debate as to whether I was really a higher-level exemplar with more of a mental package than a physical package. Eventually, I convinced them that I had a good memory and had a talent for math. The down side of those awkward results was that I was going to be scheduled for a full set of IQ tests after break.

Because of the late start, they continued to test me until I complained that I hadn't had lunch, and then I sarcastically suggested that at the current pace, they wouldn't finish testing until around eleven at night and I'd miss dinner, too. One of the assistants got lunch - which consisted of a half-cold cheeseburger and some mushy, greasy fries - and then we continued more testing.

After too short a lunch break during which I only managed to eat half of my burger, the testing continued. I got hit with the dodge-balls, I still had no danger sense, and I couldn't even begin to sense anyone's feelings or thoughts, nor project any. I had no telekinetic powers - despite every effort on the testing crew's folks to 'inspire' me to do something telekinetically.

Apparently, they'd added a few new tests for devisors and gadgeteers; not only was I expected to reassemble parts strewn about a table, but I also had to discern the function of several mechanisms from incomplete blueprints or parts. Another aspect of that was to try to understand the system behavior of a mechanism from merely examining it - in deference to the power Loophole had.

Loophole, Loophole, Loophole! Nothing but Loophole! When it came to gadgeteers and labs, the one name I was getting sick of hearing was Loophole! No matter where I went, I couldn't escape the constant chatter that very strongly suggested that I'd be considered an also-ran when it came to mechanical ability. Maybe it was a _good_ thing that I was on the magic track; at least Nikki was friendly and helpful, unlike what my imagination was conjuring up about this Gadgeteer Goddess. I could easily imagine her - a geeky-looking girl with glasses and messy, mousy hair, probably with an unremarkable figure hidden in her grease-stained labcoat as she puttered around the labs at all hours, adored by the other geeks in the labcoat crew, and at the same time, feared by all, lest their work be deemed inadequate in the eyes of the Lady of the Labs. A girl full of herself, arrogant and snotty, looking down on lesser lab creatures disdainfully.

And if my imagination wasn't running wild enough, Dr. Hewley had the audacity to suggest that I should _meet_ this Mechanism Maestra! That she might be able to help rate my powers! That would be all I'd need - to have my own abilities shoved rudely in my face by some snooty, self-important wunderkind. I hastily reminded them that my primary powers were magic related to my spirits, and fortunately that derailed the attempt at what I was certain would be a humiliating meeting. Every time someone mentioned her, I could feel my shoulder muscles tighten in dread of being compared to Loophole, which if I wanted to exercise my passion for mechanical things, would inevitably happen. And I was so dreading that.

I was going to _have_ to talk with Dr. Bellows about those feelings, because I knew, from past sessions, that it tied in with my sense of self-worth and my sense of fitting in. In our last meeting, he'd mentioned that many, many kids at Whateley suffered the same anxiety; they'd been top students in their schools, but compared to so many exemplars with mental or physical packages, they were average. It could be devastating to fragile egos - like mine. I knew that I was subconsciously catastrophizing about comparing myself to Loophole, as he'd suggested, and that logically there was no reason to assume that she was a threat to my self-worth, but emotionally, my reaction was far different. My ego had taken so many blows in the past two months that it was probably a defensive attitude. In my fragile emotional state, I didn't think that I could handle such a comparison.

The testers deliberately inflicted cuts, starting very small and progressing, so they could time the rate of healing. They were going to put me down as a regen-3, but they weren't certain what power was naturally mine, and what came from my spirits. That led to testing for magic, and finally for avatars.

Once again, I had to convince Tatanka to allow a psychic into my head to meet my spirits. Then I had to manifest Tatanka, and he did the usual number on a PK brick. We had to repeat that because Tatanka's manifestation took energy from me, so I was hooked up to many, many instruments and Tatanka gored another pair of PK brick volunteers, one of whom was Hank. I felt bad about that, but he shrugged it off. Odd jobs like these in the testing labs earned him a little bit of spending money.

The security reports of my numerous incidents led to another set of proposed tests - while Tatanka was manifested, they wanted to hook me up to a wide range of sensors to measure my energy, pain, psychic output, magical potential, and other things, and then deliberately hurt Tatanka to see what it did to me. I objected, but they said it was important and continued to set up their equipment. Then it came time for me to manifest Tatanka, but he refused to manifest. He was not going to allow himself to be deliberately hurt to see what affect it had on me. They tried to trick him into manifesting, but were unsuccessful. Finally, they called in a telepath who, after being psychically head-butted for the notion of the cockamamie test, allowed Tatanka to explain - pretty explicitly - that he could _not_ participate in anything that would deliberately cause pain to Ptesanwi. It took almost a half-hour of whining, wheedling, arguing, cajoling, and attempted bribery from the powers testers before they gave up on that notion.

Ms. Grimes did the magic testing, and fortunately, that was short and sweet. At least one test wasn't an ordeal! She seemed to know that I was tired and frustrated by the day's testing, and that my power was weakened from overexertion the night before.

When all was said and done, they collected the data in a report, with notice that I would have to correct my MID. My new, more accurate ratings, were: Wizard - 2 (without my spirit). Gadgeteer 5. Exemplar-2. Avatar-5 - channeler/manifestor. The new rating also had a note: with spirit, Wizard-3+, Healer-4.

Good grief - the new ratings made it look like I was a major mutant menace. Then again, I recalled that Nikki was a Wizard-7 and Billie was a Regen-7.And wasn't Stormwolf an Exemplar-7? In comparison to the general student population, I was probably average, or only a tiny bit above. I felt a little low walking out of the testing labs. I wanted to be special in some way. I _needed_ to feel special in some way. I _used_ to have my mechanical ability, but now? Nada.

I was walking with Tatanka, on a starry, moonlit night. The prairie, washed in pale silver, stretched out before us like an endless sea.

"Why are you feeling sad, Wihakayda?" Tatanka asked.

"I ... I guess I'm realizing that I'm not very special." I looked up, and pointed at a star. "See that star?"

"Which one?" Tatanka asked, a bit puzzled.

"Exactly," I replied morosely. "There are so many stars, and all are alike. No star is special enough to stand out from its neighbors. That’s how I feel - lost in a sea of stars."

"Wihakayda," Tatanka chided me, "you _are_ special. You are the Ptesanwi, the White Buffalo Calf Woman. Who else among all these students can say the same?"

"Nikki is the Sidhe queen of the west. Billie is the Star Stalker. Am I more special that they are?" I shook my head sadly. "I don't think so."

"Nevertheless," he said, "you _are_ special. You alone are the Ptesanwi. You alone have the power to defeat the enemies of the people. And if anyone says you aren't special," he paused, and his image blurred for a moment. When it solidified, he was back to his Mohawk and gold chains look. "I pity the fool!"

* * * * * *

Standing Rock Indian Reservation, South Dakota

The second son of Unhcegila lay in a large culvert under a road waiting for sunset. He now had a clue about the sacred sphere from the Hunkpapa shaman he'd consumed, and now he was frustrated at lying still waiting. It was difficult to wait idly, since he needed no sleep, but he couldn't move during the day, and the time required to burrow took time that he could otherwise spend moving.

The shaman's knowledge had told him where the sacred bundle lay, but he had no interest in that. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps once he located the sphere, taking the sacred bundle of Ptesanwi from the people would annoy them to the point that they'd hunt him. He relished that thought; it had been long since he'd met a worthy foe, and the challenge of battle appealed to his evil instincts.

The shaman's brain also held a clue, the first he'd found. According to the lore of the Lakota, a family who'd traditionally been chiefs of the Sicangu tribe had kept a sacred object that was unrelated to the sacred bundle, and legend held it was a gift to the Sicangu from an ancient ancestor of the Canotila, the wood elves of the Great Plains. The Sicangu tribe now dwelt in a place called the Rosebud Indian Reservation, which was, according to the shaman, far to the south. Because of the terrain and the lengthening days, it would take four or five more nights of travel to reach the main town of that reservation, a place called Mission. He'd find a Sicangu shaman to devour so he'd obtain knowledge of the location of this family. If the stories were true about the keeper of the artifact, the shaman would know, and he'd find them. Then he'd retrieve the object, just as his father had directed. It was only a matter of time.

* * * * * *

Evening, Schuster Hall, Nations meeting

Word spread pretty quickly about the results of the meeting, because as soon as I walked into the room, almost all conversation ceased, everyone turned toward me, and the room erupted in cheers. I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment; I hadn't done the presentation to get accolades. As I looked around shyly, blushing, I noticed that there were far more students at the meeting than were normally present. I'd heard that one of the ROTC students called Mule _never_ attended, and yet he was present, as were Stormwolf, Stonebear, and Pristine, among others.

"Well," Mr. Lodgeman interrupted, "it seems that news has already spread, so there's no need for an announcement."

"Good job, Kayda!" someone from the back of the room - I think it was Skinwalker - shouted, to renewed cheering, and my blush deepened.

"And you'll be pleased to know that I've already had some preliminary e-mail exchanges with the art, history, and PE departments about setting up courses or course credit based on things we do in the group," Mr. Lodgeman added. "The art department was receptive to setting up an entire class on Native American arts and crafts."

There was no mistaking the fact that Wind Runner was extremely unhappy; she was not cheering, but instead was giving me the evil eye.

"Since we're a formal group," Stormwolf said, coming to the front of the room where Mr. Lodgeman and I stills stood, "we will need to elect officers and start more formal organization of activities and planning."

Mr. Lodgeman nodded. "Since we have such a large number of students here, it would be a good time to take care of some basic organizational principles. Kayda, would you outline the charter proposal?"

I noted that Wind Runner was still glaring at me, but decided to ignore it. "First, there are two classes of membership. Voting members must be enrolled in a tribe, which means they must be one-quarter Native American or more. This group will elect leaders and approve planning and eventually budgets. The leaders are the Chief, assistant chief, scribe, and treasurer, and these officers must be voting members. The other class of members will be regular members, open to anyone interested in Native American culture and history, regardless of tribal affiliation or ethnicity. These officers and three more members will constitute our governing 'Tribal Council'. Mr. Lodgeman and Mrs. Carson suggested that we allow any members to be part of the Tribal Council." I paused a moment. "I guess I don't need to summarize, because Mrs. Carson accepted the proposal as-is, and you've all seen all of our working drafts, so ...."

"Are we getting any funding?" Lupine asked cautiously.

I shook my head. "Not this year, but Mrs. Carson said we should get a request in for next year."

"And the simulators?" Stonebear asked hopefully. He'd been intrigued with the suggestion that we could do skirmishes and fighting in the sims.

"As soon as we have an organized group," Lifeline reported, "we can get on the request list for sim time."

"It'll probably take a while to design some simulation scenarios," Mule added.

"I hope we can design some that drive Bardue bat-crap crazy!" Hard Sell, another who was reported to rarely attend, said gleefully. Mule's reaction to that was rather puzzling, as if the thought of antagonizing Bardue was improper to him, and yet, he had a little gleeful anticipation at the thought.

"One suggestion that the Headmistress thought was good was an application to the Bureau of Indian Affairs for a grant for a cultural and educational center," Mr. Lodgeman added.

"Cultural ... and educational?" Skinwalker stammered, not liking the sound of that.

"Our very own lodge," Mr. Lodgeman explained with a grin. "A clubhouse." That got a round of cheers. "Let's go ahead with elections, then, so we have at least an interim Chief to help us organize. Since this is informal right now, I'll run the elections. Nominations?"

"Since she was instrumental in getting us to be a formal group, I nominate Kayda," Lifeline said almost immediately. That was followed by a number of seconds.

"I accept," I said when Mr. Lodgeman looked at me to see if I wanted the job.

I could practically feel Wind Runner's eyes boring into my skull. "Kayda isn't enrolled in a tribe," she objected. "By the rules she's not ..."

"Yes, I am," I replied, interrupting her.

She frowned. "That's impossible. You only talked about it a couple of days ago."

"Grandmother Little Doe has some high-powered connections. She told me last night that the paperwork was approved by the tribe, so I'm now enrolled as a Sicangu Lakota." Wind Runner's expression clouded while others congratulated me on my news. Seeing how angered she appeared, I cut short the congrats. "Since she was acting leader, I nominate Wind Runner." No harm in trying to defuse tension by acknowledging her contributions.

There ensued five minutes of attempted nominations, all of whom declined, which left, at the end, me and Wind Runner as candidates.

"I have two bins of small stones, one painted blue, and one painted red," Mr. Lodgeman explained. "Each of you will get one of each. When it comes time to vote, you will drop your rock corresponding to your choice into this container one at a time. At the end, I'll count the rocks to see who won. The blue stone will represent a vote for Kayda, and the red stone for Wind Runner."

I was nervous. On the one hand, I wanted to win, because I didn't think Wind Runner would look for dynamic and exciting activities but would continue the boring, lightly-attended activities I'd seen in the previous meetings. On the other hand, if I won, Wind Runner would undoubtedly think it a huge slight and blame me, which would probably alienate her further. If that was possible.

When all had voted, Mr. Lodgeman went to a corner and counted the 'ballots'. When he returned to the center of the room, he said simply, "We have a Chief. Congratulations, Kayda."

Nervously, I took over running the meeting. "I hope I can live up to your expectations," I said in a very short, very nervous acceptance speech.

"Since the Alphas have returned to following the rules," Mr. Lodgeman continued, "and since we're now an official group, you'll be expected to represent The Nations to the Alpha Council."

I groaned; I'd heard many stories about the Alphas, and they weren't flattering. Better to just continue the meeting and worry about that later, though. "Now for the rest of the officers and the Tribal Council."

In a slap to Wind Runner, though nominated for the position of Assistant Chief, she lost to Pristine. The other nominee for Assistant Chief was Stormwolf, who was a lot more gracious about losing than Wind Runner. Flux was our recorder, and Stonebear was elected as scribe. The final positions, the three Tribal Council positions, were filled by Wind Runner, Mule, and Thunderbird.

We spent the rest of the meeting brainstorming on ideas for activities for the rest of the year, and settled on a tentative plan. A subcommittee was formed to work with Mr. Lodgeman on grant proposals from various tribes and the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and as soon as we got back from Spring Break, the Tribal Council was tasked with visiting Elise Donner about being one of our advisors and the Medawihla representative to our group.

As I walked back to Poe, I had a very bad feeling about Wind Runner. I understood how she could view my presence as an unwelcome intrusion, taking away what she thought she was running. If she was unhappy before, I suspected she was going to be highly pissed at me now.

* * * * * *

Poe Cottage

I was distracted walking down the hall, and I bumped into Ayla. "Oops," I apologized quickly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't really paying attention."

"Yeah," Ayla replied, "you look like you have something on your mind. The fight the other night?"

I winced. "Kind of. But it's more about ... two spirits." I didn't expect him to understand the Lakota concept.

"You would be referring to the Native American concept of a person with a male _and_ a female spirit?" he asked, astonishing me.

"How did ...?" I started to stammer, but then I saw his smug smile. "Oh, yeah. Rich kids' prep school."

"Actually, no," he admitted sheepishly. "When Heyoka moved in, I made a point of studying Native American culture to understand if there were going to be any unique ... challenges."

I chuckled. That sounded like Ayla. "Know your friends and enemies?" We stopped near his door.

"Yeah." He opened his door, and the din of multiple competing conversation fragments spilled out. "Come on in," he gestured to the open door of his room.

Not having anything better to do, I went in. Billie floated near the ceiling. Nikki was stretched out in one hammock, while Jade floated on her blanket. Toni was ... well, Toni. Her version of sitting still was equivalent to a Mexican jumping bean - on speed. Ayla gestured to a beanbag if I wanted to sit. "Snack? Soda?"

I shook my head as I sat. "What's the topic this time?"

Toni grinned. "Planning our next epic battle that starts innocently, but ends with us doing detention in Hawthorne."

"We don’t need to look for trouble," Billie noted. "It tends to find us."

"Yeah, and we whoop its ass, too!" Toni beamed as she did a one-armed handstand on a chair, while eating popcorn.

"Kayda was just thinking about her two spirits," Ayla mentioned as he sat down on his bed.

"Walkie Talkie and the cow?" Toni asked.

"Wakan Tanka," I corrected her. "And Tatanka is a bison, not a cow."

"Yeah, Tonka Trucka. That's what I meant."

"He's Mr. T!" Jade countered with vigor. "It's easy to remember, and he can manifest the right look! It's so kyoot!" She turned to me and activated her Big Sad Puppy Dog Eyes. "Make him manifest like he did the other night at Wondercute! That was so awesome! Please?"

"No!" I said, trying to be firm, but those eyes were devastating. "That's not ... what he's supposed to look like."

"Please?" she begged again, her lower lip quivering and begging with those irresistible eyes.

I sighed, while Ayla and Nikki chuckled softly. No doubt they had experience trying to say 'no' to Jade - and failing. "Oh, all right. Just for a minute," I reluctantly agreed.

A moment later, Tatanka was manifested in his Mr. T getup, to the delight of Jade.

Toni groaned. "Oh, great. Now we've got a cow who thinks he's Mr. T."

"I pity the fool that don't like how I look," Tatanka growled at her.

Toni rolled her eyes, doing a backflip right over Tatanka. "Great. Now we got us a white buffalo that talks like a white girl tryin' to do Mr. T," she commented sarcastically. "Ya ain't got the right 'tude!"

I had Tatanka manifest himself St. Bernard sized - without the Mr. T accoutrements - and Jade lowered her blanket to pet him. That little menace was going to spoil him. "I was talking about the Native American concept of a male spirit and a female spirit, and when a person has both of them."

"Yes," Ayla agreed. "And from what I know of the beliefs, we're all uniquely suited to understand what Kayda is talking about."

"I don't have a male spirit," Jade said defensively.

"But you grew up as a boy," I said. "Have you forgotten everything you learned about being a boy?"

Before I knew it, they'd invited Megs and Zoe down to join the discussion that was unique to us changelings.

"My ... spirit mentor ... tells me I have to embrace both spirits," I explained when Zoe asked what the problem was. "But ... I don't know how to do that. Or even what it really means."

Zoe laughed. "Have you accepted your transformation? Really accepted it?"

"I have," Toni said firmly. "I never _had_ a male spirit!"

"Neither did I," Jade chimed in.

"Maybe," Ayla observed quietly. "And maybe not."

"I ... _want_ a female spirit," Megs said softly. "I'm ... just ... in between."

"Yeah, me, too," Jade said, her voice a little sad. Billie swooped in and hugged her like a big sister.

"What about you?" I asked, looking around.

Zoe shrugged. "It's no secret that I had problems accepting that I was female, and would be forever. But I didn't really think in terms of losing a male spirit or gaining a female one." She shrugged. "I've fully embraced being a woman," she said.

Toni nodded without hesitation. Billie kind of shrugged, as if she didn't know or didn't care. Jade was another hesitant one, but I knew that was because of her stuck anatomy. Nikki thought a second before nodding, and Megs also hesitated.

"I'm not sure what it means to give up my male spirit," Megs said. "It sounds ... scary."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Just like it sounds scary to me to fully accept a female spirit. I _think_ I have, and then something happens and I'm not sure again." I shook my head. "Maybe that's why I keep seeing a black deer in my dream space."

"A black deer?"

"It's a symbol that a person hasn't accepted their female self," Tatanka said in his gruff voice.

"Like you, Ayles," Toni said with a sly smile.

"I'm not _going to_ accept a female spirit, or self," Ayla said defiantly.

"And I don't want a _male_ spirit," Jade added.

Tatanka chuckled. "You cannot simply push away a spirit you don't like," he said reprovingly, but gently, to Ayla and Jade. "It is part of you that you cannot ignore." He looked squarely at me. "You have to accept that you are winkte, two spirits, and embrace both halves of your being." He looked around. "All of you are winkte. And to the People, those who are winkte are very special, and held in high esteem."

We continued the discussion late into the night, long enough that Jade fell asleep and her wanagi-blanket carried her back to her bedroom. I didn't know about the others, but I felt a lot better about myself by the time I slipped between my sheets. Maybe we should have a periodic talk-session of all of the winkte in the cottage. Maybe it would be helpful to at least some of us. I'd have to mention it to Mrs. Horton to see what she thought of the idea.

* * * * * *

Friday, April 6, 2007

Friday's classes seemed to drag on interminably, especially martial arts in second and fourth periods. The one surprise in fourth period advanced Aikido is that Ito Soke informed me that I'd be continuing personal study on Tuesday and Thursday, so I could work with Dr. Quintain on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I know he heard my groan of displeasure, because he grinned and told me that it was my tutor's idea to help me learn a variety of styles more quickly. He was clearly taking pleasure in torturing me, and he added to my anxiety by reminding me that I would start sparring against boys after the break. That statement alone nearly caused a panic attack, and it took Anna and Sensei Tolman to help me calm down.

Electronics wasn't meeting, and Mr. Two Knives had graciously cancelled tutoring, so I would be able to leave at the same time as everyone else. So when the Powers lab was over, I dashed back to my room to pack. I couldn't wait to see my family and Debra again, even though I'd only been away from them for three weeks.

Spring Break had finally begun!

END OF PART 1

Kayda 3 - Two Spirits: Chapter 2 Ichimani (the Travelers)

Author:

Elrod

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Whateley Academy by Maggie Finson, et al

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A Whateley Academy Adventure

Kayda 3: Two Spirits - Chapter 2 - Ichimani (the Travelers)

ElrodW

Friday, April 6, 2007, afternoon
Poe Cottage

"Have a good time," Nikki said as I carried my bag out into the hall.

I gave her a hug. I know it was a girly thing to do, but I was getting to like hugging my friends more and more. "You, too. Is there anything you need?"

She smiled - a little. "No.

Giving Evvie a hug, I picked up my bag and scooted down the hall and toward Schuster. As I passed Melville, Adalie and Alicia joined me, carrying their bags and already chatting excitedly about the break. Even though she'd been reluctant at first to come with me to South Dakota, Adalie seemed quite pleased at the chance to get away from campus for a week.

At Schuster, we piled into a shuttle bus that would take us to Berlin's airport. This was one of those days when the buses were running frequently and full, because everyone wanted to get away from campus for a bit. In Berlin, the three of us would go in different directions - Adalie and I had a direct flight to Chicago, while Alicia would catch a different flight to La Guardia in New York.

With trepidation, the three of us approached the MCO security checkpoint. They'd dealt with the MCO in airports before, but I hadn't. All I knew was the horror stories that students told about their experiences with airport checkpoints, like Ayla being delayed deliberately so he missed flights, and being detained after saving a host of teen beauty-pageant contestants from a demon. With the misadventure I'd had with the Sioux Falls MCO office, I was nervous, even though my experience with the Chicago office had been very positive. One bad agent could make a hundred good agents look bad too, or, as Dad always said, "one 'aw, shit' wipes out a hundred 'attaboys'."

Because it was Berlin, there was a line at the MCO checkpoint. For security reasons, the checkpoint was in the middle of a heavily-reinforced 'tunnel' that could be almost instantly sealed at both ends in case of problems with a mutant. Only one mutant at a time was allowed within the 'trap' in the security zone - again, for obvious reasons. Trying to keep my nerves calm, I stepped to the officer when it was my turn and handed him my MID. Without looking away from my eyes, he gestured toward a scanner, which I'd watched other kids place their hands on. I did likewise, and the machine did some kind of scan on me.

"Destination?"

"Sioux Falls."

The officer frowned; no doubt he'd heard of the agents in Sioux Falls being arrested. I hoped he wasn't friends with them. "Anything to declare?"

I knew we had to declare anything that could be dangerous; some kids were authorized to carry even handguns while traveling. "My ritual Lakota knife, and my tomahawk."

"Let me see them." He still hadn't taken his eyes from me.

Dutifully, I unsheathed and handed Wakan Mila to him, and then handed him a tomahawk that Mr. Two Knives had given me - just in case, he said.

"I meant, do you have anything more dangerous than a little cutlery?" the agent snapped scornfully.

Behind me, Alicia and Adalie snorted as they tried to contain an outburst of laughter at the agent's remark. He turned his head and shot them a disapproving stare, before returning his attention to me.

"This knife is longer than permissible under TSA guidelines."

"It's a ritual Lakota knife, part of my religious heritage." I heard my friends snort again; no doubt they would have thought it hilarious if I mentioned that I was a channeler for the object of my 'religion'. "It's permissible within regulations."

"Do you have any confirmation that you're legitimately entitled to the religious exception?" He was being a bit pissy.

I nodded, reaching into my purse. Bless Grandma Little Doe - she'd faxed copies of two separate enrollment forms, one for Kayda Franks, and the other for Pejuta. They didn't have BIA approval yet, but everything else was legit. "You should encode this type of pertinent information on the MID," I observed, trying to sound helpful. "It would simplify things and help verify exceptions." I saw him looking at me through narrowed eyes, frowning. "And it would cut down on people attempting to game the system by claiming exceptions they're not entitled to," I added. The frown lessened a bit as he realized that my suggestion would add security to the MID.

"You're clear. Step out of the check zone." He'd already dismissed me. "Next!"

I waited while Adalie and Alicia went through the checkpoint, grinning at the agent's naiveté the whole time. The agent took a little longer with Adalie, probably because her foreign MID, and he also made her show her passport and visa.

"If he'd seen y'all in action with that tomahawk, he'd have never let y'all on the plane," Alicia chuckled.

"Me?" I asked, giggling. "What about Mr. Two Knives?"

Alicia's plane was already starting to board, so we wished her well, hoping she had an exciting time in New York City, and then we got a snack while we waited for our flight. Since there were few major connections out of Berlin to the rest of the country, I wasn't surprised to see fifteen or twenty kids that I recognized, also waiting for the Chicago flight.

"Evvie!" I called to my roommate when I saw her sitting, reading.

She perked up and looked around. "Kayda!"

"What happened? You were supposed to be on an earlier flight."

Evvie scowled. "Mechanical problems on the inbound flight, so they changed flights for a lot of us."

"I wonder if we can change seats so we can sit together," I speculated.

Evvie smiled. "We won't know unless we try."

We managed to talk the gate attendants into shuffling things around so the three of us could sit together, and then we engaged in that favorite pastime of school-girls - gossiping about who was seeing whom, and who had broken up. Of course, the gossip had a unique Whateley twist, and we quickly got to the rumors that Jobe - JOBE - was going home for a betrothal party. Our collective big question was who in their right mind would want to marry Jobe? Sure, the family was rich, and they ruled a Caribbean island, but it was Jobe! Daughter of a villain, and arrogant as sin. But she was cute. In a very unique way. But still an asshole. We giggled for over half an hour figuring out what husband would be proper payback for all Jobe's arrogance and condescending behavior

So I was behaving like a schoolgirl. Well guess what? I was a schoolgirl, and I was slowly getting more and more into the role without realizing it. And Wakan Tanka said I wasn't accepting my female spirit? Pbthhhh.

While waiting for the plane, and again on the flight, we were getting a bit silly about what exactly a betrothal celebration was, and what Jobe's wedding - and wedding night - would be like. Frankly, I hadn't realized that Adalie was so creative and colorful with her verbal imagery; we were either laughing like hyenas or blushing furiously whenever she added commentary. I think Evvie's ribs hurt as much as mine from laughing so hard. People around us seemed to be getting annoyed because they didn't completely understand what we were laughing about, not understanding the school life at Whateley, with all its zaniness.

It was almost a relief to land in Chicago and disembark. Both Evvie and I needed a break from the rib-splitting chuckles and guffaws. As soon as I was off the plane, I turned to find the flight information monitors to check on the time and location of our connecting flight. As late as it was, very few flights were on-time due to the daily propagation of delays through the air travel system.

"Our flight to Sioux Falls is delayed," I told Adalie. "We've got an extra half hour."

"To do what?" she asked. "I never liked waiting in airports, unless they 'ave a first-class lounge."

I chuckled. "Sorry. I'm not a priority club member."

"Kayda!" Evvie called to me from a ways down the concourse.

I looked around, and after a bit, I found her - mostly because she was waving her arms like semaphore signal flags to catch my attention. There was someone standing beside her, wearing a super-hero costume that looked like an old world war 1 flying getup, with leather helmet and goggles, and an ascot around his neck. I'd seen that before - here in Chicago. "Wing Nut?" I stammered.

Wing Nut grinned, his arm around his little sister. "You remember me, Kayda! I'm touched."

I chuckled, shaking his hand. I wasn't about to try a hug, not with my PTSD and Evvie's caution about how he'd found me attractive. "Hard to forget someone who drops from the sky and plays superhero to a damsel in distress. Or two of them." I turned to quickly explain to Adalie. "On our way to Whateley, Mom and I had car problems. Wing Nut came to help out."

"It was nothing," Wing Nut said, half blushing. At least the half of his face visible beneath his costume headpiece.

"What are you doing here? They only let ticketed passengers past the checkpoint," I observed.

Wing Nut smiled. I had to admit that his smile was friendly. "And law enforcement, which includes licensed heroes. So I took the opportunity to meet my little sis."

"Oh, this is my friend, Adalie Vitesse," I added, having overlooked, momentarily, social niceties. "She's also a student at Whateley."

Wing Nut gave her a very appreciative glance. "Welcome to the Windy City."

"We are only traveling through," Adalie said, her French accent plain to hear. "So we won't 'ave time for, as you say, seeing the sights."

Wing Nut's eyes widened, and if anything, his smile broadened. "Ah, bonsoir, Mademoiselle," he said, oozing charm. "Do I detect the accent of la Belle France?"

Adalie beamed. "Oui, monsieur," she replied. "I am from near Bordeaux."

"I have never visited Bordeaux," Wing Nut replied. "I did spend three weeks in Paris studying with some European superheroes. Paris is such a lovely city."

Adalie chuckled, and Wing Nut frowned. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

She shook her head. "Non," she giggled. "It's just a pleasant change to listen to an Americain speaking French without a Cajun accent!"

"Adalie's roommate is from Louisiana," I explained, seeing Wing Nut's baffled expression, "and while she speaks French, she has an ... unique accent."

"Since you two have an extended layover," Wing Nut offered charmingly, gazing directly at Adalie, "why don't you let me buy you something for dinner and we can visit a while so you don't get bored."

I glanced at Evvie; either her brother was enchanted by the latest attractive girl he saw, or she'd told him that I was spoken for. She smiled knowingly; I had a feeling I was going to be regaled with tales of her brother's amorous peccadillos when we got back to Whateley.

Wing Nut bought us a nice dinner, as nice as could be gotten in a major airport, and we sat for a while chatting - all the while Wing Nut was flirting with Adalie and me - but mostly Adalie. Eventually, though, it was time to board our flight, so I thanked Wing Nut for his hospitality and then hugged Evvie goodbye again.

It was nearly midnight when we landed at Joe Foss Field. It would be very dishonest to say that I wasn't nervous about seeing Debra again. I was trembling as we walked off the plane, and Adalie clutched my hand to reassure me, because she'd noticed how disquieted I was. I smiled nervously at her, and then we continued walking down the concourse. My heart was pounding with anticipation, and a little trepidation. What if she wasn't attracted to me anymore? What if she was mad about me going to the hot tub party after Spring Break? What if she was jealous that I was in a cottage full of hot girls? Rationally, I knew we kept few things secret, since we dream-walked and talked often. But what if she hadn't come to meet me? My heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of my chest.

As I neared the security checkpoint, my feet started moving a little faster, and I pulled my hand free of Adalie as I began to trot, and then to run. I couldn't move fast enough, and it seemed to take forever to cross the few last yards into Debra's waiting arms. My lips sought hers as we wrapped our arms around each other, but she dodged my kiss so we were just hugging.

"Not here, sweetie," she whispered to me.

"I missed you so much," I blubbered, crying with happiness at being in her arms. I was surprised by how emotional I was being.

"I missed you, too," she echoed.

It seemed that I hugged her forever; I know people streamed past us, but I didn't want to let go. I felt secure and loved in her arms, and I didn't want that feeling to ever end. I even momentarily forgot that Adalie was standing behind me.

"We're making a scene," Debra whispered, lowering her arms from hugging me. "And you need to introduce your friend."

"Yeah," I giggled. I let one hand slide down to her hand as I reluctantly ended the warm embrace. "Debra, this is my friend Adalie."

"I'm very glad you could come with Kayda," Debra said warmly as she gave Adalie a hug. "I worry about her."

Adalie laughed aloud. "We _all_ worry about 'er," she said with a grin. "It seems she 'as a talent for finding trouble. I think Madame Carson is glad to 'ave 'er off campus for a week because of all that 'appens around 'er."

Debra put an arm around each of our waists and turned us toward the baggage claim area. "We'll have a lot of time to visit this week, but right now, I bet you two are pretty tired after a long day of classes and a long flight."

"Oui," Adalie answered. "It 'as been a very long day."

"And you only had _one_ martial arts class today," I replied with a smile. "Are you the only one who came?" I asked Debra.

"Yeah. We figured it would be too much trouble to bring everyone who wanted to come, and since I'd volunteered first ...." We reached the baggage claim area, where we sat to wait for the baggage-handling apes to thoroughly trash and abuse all the luggage. Debra turned to me. "Now tell me all about the fight you had _this_ week."

* * * * * *

Sioux Falls League Headquarters, South Dakota

The ride to the headquarters was interminably long, mostly because I was almost dying to kiss Debra, but I couldn't while she was driving. Instead of going through the mall entrance, we drove to the League's warehouse, or rather, that owned by a corporation whose members were the real-life identities of the League members. I knew what to expect from my last visit, but it was fun to watch Charge's reaction.

Debra touched a wall panel on which was mounted a huge breaker box with conduits snaking out of it in all directions. Surprisingly to Charge, the hardware all stayed where it was, but the wall swung back from behind it, revealing an opening to a small concrete-lined room. When the concealed door shut again, the floor began to lower rapidly, until we were in the underground tunnels.

"Mon Dieu," Adalie exclaimed softly. "This is fantastique! Nothing at all like the 'eadquarters of the 'Eroes glorieux de Bordeaux!"

"You have some experience with a superhero group?" Debra asked.

"They ... rescued me," Adalie replied. "From the Bureau Francais de la Commission de Mutants.

I patted Adalie's arm reassuringly. "It seems that Addy and I share bad experiences with the MCO," I explained to Debra as we loaded our luggage into the small underground car.

"Oui." Addy sat back, looking around in wonder as the door closed and we glided away from the little stopping station noiselessly. "Magnifique! This is like something from a Bond movie! In France, the 'eroes do not 'ide away like superspies," she added.

Debra chuckled. "Perhaps we're a little more paranoid," she commented. "But it serves our safety well."

"The MCO would not 'ave 'ad such an easy time finding me if the 'eadquarters of the HGB 'ad been secret," she commented thoughtfully.

"One thing you need to know," I changed the subject. "Farm Boy has an attraction aura that he can't turn off. You might find it ... distracting."

Adalie glanced at me, not quite sure if she should believe me or not, but when she saw a confirming nod from Debra, she swallowed nervously. Before any of us could say another word, the very short trip ended as the little rail car stopped at the underground entrance. Adalie continued to gawk in disbelief as we went through the blast doors and security doors into the main area of the heroes' facility.

Before I'd even released the handle of my suitcase, Vanity Girl wrapped me in a huge hug. Beyond them, Tractor grinned at me, and Farm Boy smiled, standing a bit apart so I wouldn't be overwhelmed by his aura. As soon as I was released from the bear-hug, I gave Tractor a quick, but nervous, hug, and then did the same to Farm Boy. Unsurprisingly to me, Twinkletoes was formally dressed even this late at night, and I knew from the past that he wasn't a hugger, so I offered a handshake. Then I got to the interns - Wish List and Card Trick.

I looked around, puzzled, after hugging Card Trick. "Where's Ping Pong?" I asked.

"He had a family emergency, so he's home," Debra explained quickly so I wouldn't think the worst had happened to him.

"Okay." I took Adalie by the elbow. "This is my friend Adalie Vitesse."

"Vitesse, as in Vitesse Cognac?" Twinkletoes asked immediately, raising his eyebrows curiously.

"Oui, monsieur," Adalie answered, a little surprised. As far as she'd told me, Vitesse Cognacs and wines weren't imported into the US. "'Ow do you know of my father's cognac?"

Twinkletoes chuckled. "A classmate of mine works around Bordeaux as a superhero."

"Oh? I am from near Bordeaux," Adalie replied in surprise.

"Then perhaps you know her. Mage Astre?"

"Oui, monsieur," Adalie squealed delightedly. "The 'Eroes Glorieux de Bordeaux are my friends! They rescued me from ... a few problems."

"Really?" Twinkletoes smiled pleasantly, as if fond memories were replaying in his mind. "She was a ... friend ... while we went to Whateley."

"Don't let him fool you," Farm Boy chuckled to Adalie. "From what I heard, the two of them were quite an item when they were at Whateley together."

"How is she doing?" Twinkletoes asked simply, ignoring the razzing.

"She is quite well," Adalie replied, and then she studied his expression for a moment. "If I were to 'azard a guess," she continued, "you would be interested to know that she 'as no-one significant in 'er life, at least the last time I saw 'er."

This time, Twinkletoes _did_ blush, while Vanity Girl giggled, "We know where he's spending _his_ vacation this year!"

I finished the introductions, and then because it was so late, Debra, Card Trick, and Vanity Girl escorted us to one of the bedrooms. "I hope you don't mind sharing," Vanity Girl said, giving Debra a furtive glance, "but two of our guest rooms are being remodeled, and with your family coming tomorrow, we're out of singles for the moment."

"That's fine," I answered, feeling both relief and disappointment at the same time. I knew precisely why they'd put us together - Debra and VG wanted to eliminate any temptation for either Debra or I.

Card Trick smiled at us. "Since we're friends, you can call me by my real name."

I nodded, and then started. I didn't even know her real name. "Uh ...."

She laughed. "I never did tell you, did I? I'm Valerie. Valerie Hinson."

I gave her another hug. Knowing her real name made me feel even closer to her. "Good night, Valerie. Or is it Val?"

She laughed. "Either is fine. I've been called both all my life." The older girls left Addy and I alone so we could get some sleep.

While Adalie got herself ready for bed, I slipped out of our room to Debra's. No sooner had the door shut than we were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing passionately. I wanted so much to tackle her on her bed so we could ravish each other, but she held firm.

"I missed you so much," she said when we finally finished kissing.

"And I you," I echoed, and then I giggled, "This is _so_ much better than dream-walking."

Debra giggled and kissed me again. "Yeah," she agreed. "I think so, too."

"But the rest ...."

"We have our dreams," Debra answered for both of us. "And after your birthday...."

We kissed and hugged for nearly half an hour before I went back to our room. The whole time, I was at battle with my desires, which were to spend the night frolicking naked with Debra, giving each other pleasure as we loved one another. When I got back to the room, Adalie was in bed, but was reading something. She eyed me knowingly when I started to change.

"You and Cornflower," she said with certainty, "you are lovers, non?"

"No," I answered, trembling that she knew our secret.

Adalie giggled. "You don't do a good job of 'iding it." She looked wistfully at me. "Once, I 'ad a friend ...." Her voice choked and she wiped at one eye. "Collette and I ... were amies. Very special amies," she added. "We ...." She broke off and looked down for a moment before she looked back at me. "If you 'ave a girl as a lover, I understand."

"I ... we ... have to keep it secret," I said nervously, implicitly acknowledging her speculation. "In this country, being gay is ... dangerous."

"Oui," Adalie agreed. "I 'ave seen 'ow dangerous it can be." She smiled. "But it is worse for boys than for us," she added. "Some'ow, boys find the thought of girls loving girls very erotic."

I excused myself to do my nightly ablutions, and then slid into bed and turned out the light. "Night, Addy," I said.

"Bonne nuit."

I lay awake for a while, thinking about Debra and how wonderful it was to hold her and kiss her after missing her so much. And about how wonderful it would be when I was older, and we could love each other.

"'Ow well do you know Phase?" Addy asked out of the blue.

"We talk occasionally," I replied. She'd stirred my curiosity. "And sometimes a group gathers in Ayla's room for movies."

"I see." Addy paused, and I hoped she'd gone to sleep. "Is it true that Ayla was dating a girl, but now they've broken up?"

"You're getting into Ayla's private life," I replied.

"So 'e was, then?"

"Yes. Why?"

"No reason," Addy replied almost immediately. "Ayla eats with us sometimes, and, well, 'e's pleasant company. I just wished to know a little more about 'im."

In hindsight, it was perfectly obvious why she was asking, but at the time, being nearly exhausted after a very long day, I didn't put the pieces together. When she asked no more questions, I let myself drift to sleep, knowing I'd be meeting Debra in dream-space.

* * * * * *

Saturday, April 7, 2007
Sioux Falls League Headquarters

Part of me wanted to stay in bed and catch up on sleep, but the other part of me was excited about spending time with Debra and seeing my family, so I rose early and got my shower, taking my time like I usually did on weekends. I was a bit afraid that Adalie would be upset that I was taking such a leisurely shower, but when I finished, she was just stirring.

"You don't want to miss breakfast," I encouraged her. "The cooks are wonderful."

"As good as Chef Marcel?" Adalie asked skeptically.

"Well, no," I admitted, "but they're not cooking for seven or eight hundred people, so they can put more care into the food."

"What are we doing today?" Adalie asked, shucking off her nightie. I caught myself staring at her; she was very attractive. While not as stunningly gorgeous and curvy as some of the exemplars at school, she would easily rate 9.6 or higher in an average high school. She wasn't ever going to make pinup in a "Double D" type of magazine, but she had nearly flawless proportions and curves, with perky breasts that were big enough without crossing the nebulous line to "too big". Her waist was narrowed nicely, but not ridiculously so, and she had nice rounded hips and bottom.

She turned, and looked at me, and I looked away quickly, my cheeks burning at being caught staring at her. She chuckled softly as she grabbed her toiletries and walked into the bathroom. Damn, it was embarrassing to be caught staring at her like that. And yet, in a way, it was reassuring, because it demonstrated only too clearly that I was a lesbian and found girls very attractive.

While I waited for her to finish, I slipped into dream space to talk with my mentor.

Wakan Tanka sat by her tepee, sewing a deerskin garment, putting great care into each and every stitch. She glanced up and bade me sit beside her. "It is important to learn the crafts of the People, she said simply.

I frowned. "I can just buy things I need."

She 'tsk, tsked' me, shaking her head disapprovingly. "You are the Ptesanwi. You are of the People. The People will expect you to know how to do certain things that the Ptesanwi taught them in a past age." She smiled. "Besides, it is comforting to make something with your hands instead of bartering for everything. You know that, though, don't you?"

I nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. I used to like ... making things in Dad's shop, and working on my car."

"So you shall learn to do traditional crafts of the People, and I suspect you will find them equally rewarding."

"I guess," I muttered, not convinced.

"Besides, how would your maske feel if you were to give her a gift of a handmade dress like the one you have?"

I blushed, immediately thinking of how Debra would look in such a dress - her creamy bosom trying to peek over the low-cut neckline, her curves displayed in the tight-fitting buckskin, her long, shapely legs protruding from beneath the short-hemmed skirt. I felt flush thinking about how utterly totally sexy Debra would look, and how I'd want to hold her close, and .... I caught myself, realizing that I was more than a bit aroused.

Wakan Tanka laughed. "You find this appealing? I'm not surprised. It's part of your two-spirits nature. You're a girl, but you think of girls the way a man should. _That_ is one aspect of your male spirit which still burns within your breast."

"You're not going to stop with the Two Spirits thing, are you?"

"Not until you accept it and all that it means," Wakan Tanka replied easily.

"What do I have to do to make my female spirit come to me?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing," Wakan Tanka replied immediately. "You do not _make_ the female spirit come to you."

"Then ... how?"

"You accept that it is already there. You quit trying to fight that which is already part of you. You embrace and cherish that aspect of your being."

"And ... the same for my male spirit, I suppose?"

"Yes." Wakan Tanka put down her needle and stood. "Stand up, and undress. I want to see how this fits on you."

Puzzled by her sudden interest in tailoring outfits for me, I did as requested, surprisingly without any shame or embarrassment. No sooner had I tried it on than her clothing changed to match. I gawked at her in stunned silence. Ho. Lee. Shit! She was hawwt in that dress. Which meant that I was also uber-hawwt in it. That made me blush a bit.

Wakan Tanka smiled. "This dress shows your feminine spirit well."

"Yeah, but if I wear it around Debra ...."

"True," Wakan Tanka agreed. "But you should have a dress made like this. Or better still, you should _make_ a dress like this."

"I don't know how to sew!"

"Then you will learn, and I will teach you. With your new campus group, you will have opportunities to learn traditional crafts."

I snorted. "Somehow, I don't think the administration is going to let us import bison to hunt, skin, and use for projects." In the back of my mind, though, I was thinking about what we _could_ do with these types of crafts. Deer hunting _was_ allowed, if we could negotiate with the Medawihla tribe, and we could learn many Native American skills and crafts hunting deer. I also considered that with a private tutor in my dream-space, I'd have a leg up on learning, so I could teach, too."

"Sit," Wakan Tanka ordered, so I sat beside her. She took out some buckskin, some sinew thread, and bone needles. Surprised, I took them, and painstakingly, she began to teach me how to sew.

I snapped out of dream space, which was usually an indication that something was going on in the real world. The transition was getting easier and less disorienting, so it only took a fraction of a second to realize that Adalie was ready to go, and staring at me with a bemused expression. "Visiting your dream world again?" she asked.

"I thought I should wait for you," I replied, "since you've never been here."

"What was your spirit telling you this time?" she asked, making conversation as we walked toward the dining room.

"How to sew buckskin."

"Mon Dieu," Adalie exclaimed softly. "Your spirit 'as you learn very strange things."

Debra was seated already, her plate overflowing, though it was impossible to tell whether this was her first course, or second. Or possibly even third. She beamed at me between bites, and I felt almost as comforted by her smile as if she'd been actually hugging me.

As soon as I put my tray beside Debra and sat down, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a very nice 'good morning' kiss, which I eagerly returned. "Did you sleep well?" she asked, knowing that I must have since I had a good dream-walk.

"I especially liked the company in my dreams," I answered coyly. I noticed that Adalie was watching us with a curious expression, while Valerie and Vanity Girl barely seemed to notice us.

"Did you sleep well?" Wish List asked Adalie.

"Oui," Adalie answered. "Except for Kayda's snoring."

I noticed. "Hey, I don't snore!" I protested.

Adalie and Debra giggled, and I realized that Adalie had been joking.

Tractor sat down across from me, his plate practically overflowing with food, just like Debra's. It suddenly struck me that a downside to being in a relationship with an energizer like Debra would be a huge food bill if we went on a date, or if we lived together. When I heard Wish List giggle suddenly, I realized that I must have been practically broadcasting my emotions, and she'd picked up on my concern.

I frowned, which made her giggle more, which in turn got Debra's attention. "What?" Debra demanded of Wish List.

"Nothing. Kayda was just thinking about grocery shopping."

I blushed furiously, which set Wish List off on another burst of giggles. She whispered something to Vanity Girl, who likewise began to giggle. Amidst this, Adalie looked among us girls, puzzled. "Inside joke," I muttered in frustration. Wish List in turn whispered to Adalie, who laughed aloud, making me even more flustered.

Tractor was giving them a look that said, 'girls!' "How are you doing with history?" he asked, attempting to divert attention from whatever the girls were giggling about.

I shrugged, giving one final disapproving glance toward Vanity Girl and Wish List. "Not so well," I answered hesitantly. "I've got two martial arts classes a day, after-class electronics, then I have a private tutor for Lakota fighting skills, and on top of that, I'm tutoring a few girls."

"Kayda is un precepteur fantastique!" Adalie gushed. "I would be failing algebra if it weren't for 'er 'elp."

I shrugged, blushing again but for a different reason. "Adalie is helping me with my French," I noted, "or I'd be struggling in _that_ class."

Tractor shrugged. "I was hoping you'd find more time for history, so you could call once in a while and make me feel needed."

"Oh, poor baby!" Vanity Girl cooed with a parental tone. "You _are_ needed!"

"Yeah," Debra said between bites. "Someone around here needs to be strong enough to haul out all our trash!"

"Girls!" Tractor repeated, shaking his head. "Are you going to keep studying ancient Greek history?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I like it, but I need to get my schedule organized. Things have been a little ... hectic ... so far."

A commotion outside the dining room interrupted us, but before any of us could rise - except maybe Adalie if she had been curious - my family came noisily in to the room. I couldn't help squealing with delight and practically jumping from my seat when I saw Mom. I wrapped myself around her, sobbing happily as I clutched her tightly. I hadn't realized just how much I missed my family because life at Whateley had kept me occupied. Dad joined in the hug, and I continued to sob and blubber how much I loved them and had missed them.

I gradually became aware that Danny the brat was with Mom and Dad, as well as ... Julie? My eyes practically bugged out of their sockets as I disengaged from hugging Mom and Dad. "Julie?" I stammered. "What ... what are you doing here?" I dashed to wrap her in my arms.

"I ... I'm ...." She shook her head, unable to speak much as her voice choked.

"Kayda," Mom explained quickly, "Julie is staying with us, at least for the time being."

"What?" I asked, stupefied. "Why?"

"I can't stay at my home anymore. I ... I'm ...," Julie said, her voice trembling, "I'm a mutant."

"You're ... a mutant?"

"I ... manifested about a year ago," she confessed. "I never told anyone, because Daddy hates mutants so much, and everyone is afraid of them ... of us."

"Honey," Mom interrupted, "Julie called me a few days ago. Mr. Robinson and Humanity First! arranged for genetic testing of everyone in school, and every kid with the gene thing ..."

"It's called the meta-gene complex, Mom," Danny chimed in, being a smart-ass.

Mom scowled at him for a second. "Every kid who tested positive got more tests."

"Like me," Danny said, almost proud that he, too, had the genes.

"And Daddy got really suspicious," Julie said. "I've been having some ... problems ... with my powers, and Daddy remembered a lot of strange things that had been happening around the house ...." She shook her head. "When he realized I was a mutant, he got really drunk, beat me up pretty badly, and then locked me in my room while he went to get his anti-mutant friends."

I goggled at that news. We all knew Mr. Robinson was rabidly anti-mutant, but to turn on his daughter like that? "How ... how did you get away?"

Julie shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "I was screaming and banging on the door, trying to get someone to let me out, and the next thing I knew, I was outside by our big cottonwood tree. I called your mom, because I didn't know who else to call."

"She forgot to tell you that she was also rather ... naked," Mom added, causing Julie to blush furiously. "However she got to the tree, it seems her clothes didn't go with her."

Debra rose and gave her a reassuring hug. "You're safe with us," my sweetie said.

I realized we hadn't done basic social niceties. "Julie, Danny, this is my ... friend, Debra, from the Sioux Falls League. And this ...." I stopped when the seat Adalie had been sitting in was empty. I glanced around, frowning. "Where's Adalie?"

"The other girl who was here?" Dad asked. "She ... left, in a big hurry. She looked a little upset."

"Can you guys wait here a moment? I've got to go and see if something's wrong."

Debra took my arm. "I'll come with you."

It wasn't hard to find Adalie; she was in our room, lying on her bed sobbing softly. "Adalie?" I asked tentatively.

She ignored me, so I went inside and sat on the edge of her bed. "Addy?" I asked, putting my hand gently on her shoulder. She rolled away from me, or rather, tried to, but I stopped her. "What's wrong, Addy?"

"It is ... nothing," she sniffled, not looking at me.

"Addy," I chided softly. "We're friends. What's wrong?"

"I ... I miss ... Mama," she sniffled.

That was when I noticed how tear-stained her cheeks were. "I'm sorry my family reminded you that you didn't get to go home over break," I said softly.

"Non," she replied in a whisper. "That is not it."

"Then what?"

She closed her eyes in thought, lost in a world of her own innermost feelings for a moment. "Dr. Bellows said that I should talk to someone about it," she finally said, sounding more like she was convincing herself than me. I took her hand and clasped it reassuringly. If she was going to talk, I knew that she'd do it on her schedule, not mine.

"My Mama ... died," Adalie said softly, "when I was ten."

"Oh, Addy," I replied, puzzled about what to say or do. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No-one knows. I 'ave never told anyone, except Alicia. And Donza might 'ave deduced the ... situation when we went to Boston."

I pried her up off the bed into my arms, and she didn't fight. Hugging her tightly, I let her cry on my shoulder. "It's okay, Addy," I said softly over and over.

"Please do not tell anyone," Adalie said when she'd stopped sobbing. "It is ... very personal to me."

"I promise," I said. "Now go get cleaned up." I glanced at Debra. "Why don't you go let everyone know we'll be back in a little bit."

Mom and Dad were smart enough to pretend that Adalie hadn't been in the room before so she wouldn't feel embarrassed, and Danny was too busy gawking at Adalie, Debra, and Wish List - and he wasn't in the slightest subtle about it.

"What are we going to do this week?" I asked once all the introductions were complete. "Hang around here?"

Mom shook her head. "Mom has been talking with the tribal elders, and she's very insistent that we go out to Mission for a day or so. Apparently they want to meet the newest member of the tribe."

I groaned. Knowing how enthusiastic Grandma Little Doe was about my being enrolled and hosting the spirit of Ptesanwi, she'd probably told someone that I was important, and wanted to introduce me to all the important people. "I hope Grandma didn't tell anyone about my spirit," I muttered.

"You know your Grandma," Dad chuckled. "I'm sure she's told everyone she knows, because she's proud of you, and because she knows how important your spirit is to the People."

Tractor and Vanity Girl had joined us. "Personally," Tractor said, "I want to find out if Kayda's learning to defend herself."

"She can always have her buffalo gore you again," Debra chuckled, to which Tractor frowned. "But seriously, I'd like to see what you're learning as well, so we should plan time in the gym. Maybe at the end of the week, before you go home." She smiled at me. "I know you had a busy day with martial arts yesterday, so you'd probably like to take a day or two off."

I winced visibly. "I'm supposed to spend time working out anyway. My tutor, Mr. Two Knives, told me I'm supposed to practice every day."

"Your tutor? You have a private tutor?" Julie asked, astonished.

"My ... spirit insisted that I learn Native American fighting techniques and weapons," I groused. "It wasn't my idea, and it really makes my days ... busy."

"Ah," Tractor said with a sigh, "I suppose you're using _that_ as an excuse to not study history. In that case, you're going to _have_ to show me that it's a worthwhile use of your time."

"And I'd like to see what kind of ... self-defense you're learning," Dad added for pretty obvious reasons.

Slowly, the group migrated from the dining room to the living room, where I sat down near, but not cuddled with Debra, my desires notwithstanding. Julie didn't know I was a lesbian, and a display of affection might have resulted in some uncomfortable looks or questions.

"What's the plan for the day?" I asked.

"We figured us girls would go shopping this afternoon," Vanity Girl said, flashing a smile at Mom.

"No jewelry stores?" I asked warily.

"No jewelry stores," Debra assured me.

I saw the puzzled look on Julie's face, so I briefly explained what happened the last time we were in a jewelry store. Her horrified expression spoke volumes about how much I'd changed in a few short weeks; taking two martial arts classes plus Native American fighting every day, with the fighting and action on Whateley campus, made the jewelry store robbery seem almost routine, or even boring.

"I've got to stop by the Native American store in the mall," I added. "Someone," I rolled my eyes, "wants me to get some Native American sewing supplies, and I need to get more herbs for my teas. A _lot_ more herbs."

"Oh? Didn't Mom send enough?" Mom asked me. "And sewing supplies?"

"Yeah," I snorted, "until a few students got kind of ... hooked on my tea."

"Your ... tea?" Julie asked, once again puzzled.

I chuckled. "My spirit taught me to make a healing beverage, which is becoming quite popular at Whateley. One of the Wild Pack ..."

"Are _they_ still active?" Wish List interrupted.

"Yeah."

"Did Stormwolf ever get that cob out of his ass, or is he still obnoxiously straight-arrow?" Debra asked with a laugh.

"He's still a pain," I chuckled. "But he's been ... helpful once or twice. But Mindbird is a lot more helpful, and a lot less annoying."

"Dale always was pretty nice. How she got hanging around with Stormwolf, I'll never know!" Valerie said.

"Sewing supplies?" Mom asked again.

I'd hoped she'd forgotten that comment. "Wakan Tanka, my spirit," I added for Julie's benefit, "is adamant that I learn some Native American skills, like fighting and sewing. She'll probably add cooking to the list before too long."

"Anything interesting you're going to make?" Debra asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Um, she ... had me make something in dream space," I said, blushing.

"I can't wait to see," Debra whispered to me in a lusty voice, making my cheeks burn even more.

Debra and Wish List then proceeded to humiliate me by showing Julie and Adalie the pictures from our photography session, including some of the ... ahem ... racier ones that had Dad frowning, which made Julie and Adalie laugh. Somehow, in the midst of all that, I got pushed into agreeing to another photography session with Debra later in the week - mostly by Vanity Girl and Wish List implying that I was chicken if I didn't. What can I say? Being called chicken has been my downfall many times. I _had_ to learn to not overreact to that.

* * * * * *

Even in a bulky gi, Debra looked sexy, and it was all I could do to focus on the match. Since I had to practice, the girls had talked me into working out with them, and Adalie had enthusiastically joined in. That miniscule distraction was enough, and I found myself being slammed to the mat, ending up in a hold from which I couldn't escape. I slapped the mat, and as soon as I did, she bent forward and kissed me.

"Are you trying to make me _want_ to lose?" I sputtered at her.

I heard a laugh from Adalie, followed by a surprised cry and a thud as she hit the mat. "That'll teach you to not let yourself be distracted," Wish List chided her playfully.

We all took a breather, and then Debra wanted to see me spar against Adalie. "Oh, gods, no!" I muttered.

"Why?" Debra asked.

"Because I'm awful against speedsters!

"All the more reason to practice," Wish List grinned at me. "You noticed that _I_ didn't have much trouble sparring with her." She looked at Adalie. "How fast are you? Eighty? Ninety?"

Adalie frowned. "Ninety?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Wish List apologized. "Your top speed. One hundred forty kph? One fifty?"

"Oh," Adalie understood. "Oui, about one 'undred forty-five kilometer per 'our."

"And yet I was able to beat her in a fight."

Adalie nodded. "'Ow? I don't understand 'ow you did it, unless you have exemplar speed, too."

Wish List exchanged knowing smiles with Debra. "Shall we tell them, or let them figure it out for themselves?"

Debra grinned wickedly. "Let them spar a round, and then we'll see if Adalie can figure out the difference."

I scowled at her as I walked to one side of the sparring circle, while Adalie glanced warily at me and then at Wish List.

"Hajime!" Wish List snapped.

I'd sparred with Adalie enough before - and never successfully - so I knew to duck the moment Wish List started to speak - for all the good that did. Adalie started to move, and I tried to reverse my motion, but a kick caught me in the ribs, stunning me momentarily. While I tried to recover, she punched me twice more before I ducked back out of her range. That earned me a fraction of a second of relief before she dashed in again.

I missed a block, and mycounterpunch swished through the air. Despite not getting off balance, Adalie did a roundhouse kick, catching me in the other side of my ribs. I tried to circle away from the edge of the ring, but she was quicker, and kept me against the edge, limiting my movement options.

As soon as she started to move, I dropped to my hands and knees in a desperate gamble, hoping to get under her kicks and punches. It didn't work; she started a low kick, so it only took a tiny adjustment, and the kick hit me in the side of my face, knocking me over. I rolled, trying to get back out of her range and to get back to my feet, but as I rose, I got a side kick in my chest, which knocked me back out of the ring.

"I hate fighting speedsters," I grumbled as Debra assisted me to my feet. Despite her petite size, Adalie managed to get a lot of momentum behind her blows, and I certainly felt everywhere she'd punched and kicked.

"Almost everyone hates fighting speedsters," Debra chuckled, walking with me back to the sparring circle. "Only bricks don't care."

"Why is it always my ribs?" I said, wincing at the pain as I joined the others on the mat.

"Adalie," Wish List began, "what was the difference in the two fights?"

Addy thought a moment. "You're much quicker," she said to Wish List. "You were ducking out of my way the 'ole time, and I could not 'it you." She frowned. "You must be an Exemplar-4 or more to 'ave reflexes like that."

Wish List smirked at Debra. "Hardly," she replied. "I'm definitely not a speedster or exemplar."

"But 'ow?" Adalie asked, baffled. "I was 'aving trouble 'itting you!"

"And Kayda is an Exemplar, so her reflexes are faster than mine."

I frowned at that. "Then how were _you_ able to beat her, while I wasn't?"

Wish List shot a grin toward Debra, the type of expression that screamed, 'should we tell them'? "What does a speedster like Adalie have going for her?"

"She's fast," I said, stating the obvious. "And she's got quicker reflexes."

Debra nodded knowingly. "And she can accelerate much faster than you. But there are a couple of problems with those abilities."

"You're not making sense," I complained.

Debra started to say something, but then she halted and thought a second. "You haven't had physics. Otherwise the answer would be obvious."

"Just tell me already," I grumbled.

"Try this. Say you're driving ten miles per hour. How tight a circle can the car turn?" Wish List asked.

"Pretty tight, I guess," I replied, not quite sure where she was going.

"And if you're driving twenty?"

"Not as tight."

"Forty?"

"Not nearly as tight as ten or twenty," I answered, still not quite putting it together.

"It turns out that for the same turning force, the radius of a circle increases as the square of the speed," Wish List explained. "So if you're going twice as fast, it takes four times as big a circle to turn."

My eyes narrowed as my brain churned on what she was saying. Almost immediately, equations popped into my head, and the answer popped out. I goggled at her and Debra. "So - the faster a speedster is going, the larger their turning radius? The harder it is for them to change direction, even if they have faster reflexes?" I asked, pretty certain that my speculation was correct based on what Wish List had said.

"When you add in the biomechanics of movement and acceleration of the human body, speedsters can end up at a distinct disadvantage - _if_ you know how to take advantage of it."

"Didn't they cover this in power theory and lab?" Debra asked.

"Speedsters have _some_ very fast reflexes built-in, but some actions, like fighting, require thought, which is almost _always_ slower than their reflexes, even if it's faster than non-speedsters," Wish List continued.

"Speedsters usually attack at maximum acceleration. That gives _you_ very little time to react, unless you're watching them for hints and clues of motion," Debra took over the explanation. "Don't you have some sky and earth spirit thing?"

I groaned. "Yeah. Feeling the sky spirit like Cetan, and the earth spirit like Mato."

Without warning, Tatanka manifested, really startling Dad, Danny, and Julie, who were in the gym watching.

"Go ahead and say it," I snapped at Tatanka in Lakota, a hint of disgust in my voice.

Tatanka smiled, which I'm sure surprised my family even more. "I don't need to say it," he replied in English. "You _know_ that you need to practice with the spirits until you're as comfortable reading the sky spirit as Cetan and the earth spirit as Mato."

Wish List and Adalie giggled at my spirit lecturing me, but Debra continued, trying her best to not smile or laugh. "Even without the spirits," she said, "a baseline can read, from body language, what a speedster is going to do."

"And once a speedster commits, before they even start moving, you have to react. All you have to do is move - a little bit and seemingly randomly, at least to the speedster, and you throw off their timing. They've committed, and by the time you're moving, they've already accelerated to a high speed, and thus their turning circle is large," Wish List explained.

"You're making them have to _think_ of how to adjust to your unexpected move, and during that split second, momentum and acceleration are working against them, not for them. That gives you a fraction of a second of opportunity."

"Ah, mais oui," Adalie said, her face lit up in a classic 'eureka' moment.

"I _think_ I understand," I said slowly.

"It's hard work," Debra added. "It takes _all_ your focus, and you have to have already planned out your _random_ moves. You don't have time to think, because the speedster will react and adjust while you're thinking."

"Now, let's see you two spar again," Wish List directed.

I nodded, and glanced around; not only was my family gathered to watch, but the League members and staff had drifted in, including Tractor, Vanity Girl, Twinkletoes, Valerie, Don, Romeo Foxtrot, and Yvonne. My palms were suddenly sweaty, and my mouth dry.

Debra noticed. "Think of this as just another class," she reassured me, her arm around my shoulders and squeezing to comfort me.

"Great," I mumbled. "I always get my ass kicked in class!"

I glanced around, and realized that my little brother was busy watching Valerie. "Do you think Danny realizes how far out of his league he is?" I chuckled.

"Would you rather he was watching you?" Debra joked right back.

"Good point." I took my place on one side of the circle while Adalie walked to the other side.

Wish List looked back and forth between the two of us. "Approach and bow," she directed. Warily, as we always did in class, Adalie and I walked to the center, and never taking eyes off each other, we bowed formally and then backed up to our spots. "Hajime!"

Before Wish List started the fight, I reached out to the spirits, letting them touch my senses, feeling their eddies and currents. I was also watching Adalie carefully, looking for any sign of commitment from her.

Even before I saw a sign of her movement, I felt a flow in the earth spirit, a directing of energy, and I knew it was the earth spirit reacting to the force of her intended move. I had a partial mental picture of how she intended to strike. As the girls had said, I didn't think, but reacted instead, rolling low and right and coming up facing where I had been.

Adalie's opening strike missed me entirely, and as she struggled for a split-second to counter her own inertia and react to my move, I launched a kick at her. Unfortunately for me, she was quicker to react than I'd expected; she blocked my kick and grabbed my kicking leg. I twisted my body to break her hold and free my leg, but as I did so, she kicked at me, catching me in the thigh and making me gasp in pain. I rolled to the side and back, using the additional force of my fall to pull my leg free, and I was on my feet just in time to catch a backhand to the side of my face. Damn, but she'd gotten the advantage again, and being so close, I had a lot less time to react.

I pushed the distraction from my mind, allowing the feel of the spirits to flow through me while I watched her. There! A precursor to motion, a feel from the earth spirit, and I ducked to my left, my right arm sweeping outward to block. It almost worked; I partially blocked the blow, but she still connected and my head snapped to one side from the force of her strike.

Without thinking, I rolled backward to get out of range, coming to my feet as my head cleared. I saw another strike coming at me, and I barely had time to block it, but the follow-up kick at my knee connected, and I crumpled to the mat, pain shooting through my leg.

After many hours of martial arts instruction, my roll upon hitting the mat was almost instinctive, and that reaction saved me from being grappled while I was helpless on the mat.

I got back to my feet, and with a couple of quick feints, dodged another jab and ridge-hand. She grasped my arm as I tried to counter-strike, pulling me over her hip and throwing me toward the edge of the ring. I rolled as I hit the mat, coming to my feet just in time to get a side kick to my chest, which knocked me back out of the ring onto my ass.

Debra gave me a hand and tugged me to my feet. "Better," she said with a smile.

"I didn't hit her once!" I grumbled. "And she beat the crap out of me, as usual."

We sat down in the center of the circle again. "Well?" Wish List asked.

"Same story, different verse," I groused.

"Non," Adalie countered immediately. "There were a couple of points where you had me off balance, and I thought I was going to be 'it."

"That'll be the day," I grumbled. I didn't like the fact that I couldn't do _anything_ to counter her speed.

"Addy's right," Wish List observed. "How often, in past matches, have you dodged her strikes?"

I thought a moment, trying to absorb the fact that I _had_ done something better. "Not many, I suppose. Maybe two or three."

"In how many matches?" Debra continued.

I shrugged, glancing at Adalie. "Maybe twenty or so."

"And yet you dodged her attacks, at least partially, five times in one round."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I guess," I said unenthusiastically.

"The problem, sweetie," Debra observed softly so others wouldn't hear, "is that you're trying to think while you're fighting. Against a baseline or a low-powered opponent, you can get away with that. Against a speedster, thinking will get you every time."

"It was very obvious to us when you were reacting, and when you were thinking," Wish List continued. "When you had to think, you got hit."

"It'll take more practice, but eventually, it'll be natural." Debra smiled. "I'll have to call Sensei Ito and tell him about this little lesson, so you can practice more when you get back to school."

I stuck my tongue out at her to indicate my displeasure at her threat to call Ito. "And until then, I'm a punching bag for speedsters," I snorted. "And bricks, and telekinetics."

Adalie laughed. "And I suppose you think that I am _not_?"

"Excuse me, ladies," Tractor interrupted, walking toward us.

"I suppose _you_ want to torture them by sparring with them?" Wish List joked.

"Actually, yes," Tractor said with a straight face. "A friend at Whateley told me that Kayda is learning to fight with a knife and tomahawk. I want to see a demonstration."

A light dawned in my brain. "And since you're a brick, I couldn’t hurt you if I accidentally hit you, right?"

"That _had_ occurred to me," Tractor grinned.

I shot a worried glance at Debra, who responded by putting her hand on mine. "You're shaking!" she whispered, surprised.

I nodded slightly. "Every time ... I fight a guy," I whispered, "I ... have a ... panic attack." I was already feeling like my chest was being squeezed in a vise.

"Honey," Debra whispered soothingly, leaning closer, "you're going to have to get over that. You _trust_ Tractor, don't you?"

I nodded, my head moving only fractionally. "Yeah," I squeaked.

"Try. I'll be right here, and if it gets to be too much for you, we'll stop the round, okay?"

"Okay." I wasn't sure my voice was even audible. "I've got one tomahawk in the locker room, because I carry it with me all the time, and the other is in my luggage."

"Let's go get them." She walked with me, and as soon as we were out of sight of the spectators, she took my hand to reassure me. In my room, she paused to give me a kiss to bolster my confidence.

Back in the gym, we watched while Adalie finished sparring with Tractor. Even with him taking it easy, Addy was having serious problems fighting him, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She did throw him once while we watched, but with his PK shell, she really couldn't stop him. Eventually, they quit. Remarkably, though, she was in a good mood about the fight. I'd have to ask her later about that.

"Aren't you going to use that fancy knife of yours?" Tractor asked.

"It's imbued with magic," I replied, shaking my head. "I don't know if it would hurt you, and they didn't test that in powers testing, so I don't want to take a chance."

"Hmm," Tractor mused. "Maybe we can set up an experiment." He chatted briefly with Wish List, who went to talk to Don, the League's resident devisor and gadgeteer.

"I'm going to hold my attacks to baseline-strength," Tractor said as we walked to the sparring ring. "You can go full-out, though, because basic weapons won't penetrate my shield."

"Okay."

Tractor made the first move, throwing a punch at me. That was when I went all Hoka on him. I intercepted the punch by hooking his forearm between the handle and blade of the tomahawk, pushing it to the side, while I let my momentum spin me into a strike on his shoulder. He tried a few more punches and kicks, careful to control his speed and power to baseline levels, but I blocked them all and counterattacked with my tomahawks. Then he tried to grab me, as a mugger might. I ... reacted, retaliating against the arm-hold, blocking his attempted strikes and hacking quite viciously. If it had been real, Vanity Girl would have been quite upset with me for one attack, while another couple would have disemboweled him. Others would have left his limbs torn and bloodied, and a couple of the head blows would have been instantly fatal.

After a couple of minutes of my brutal attacks, he finally caught my arms and held me to stop the demonstration. "I think that's enough, Kayda," he said firmly.

I was sweating and breathing hard from the relentless attack, but as he held me, I started shaking again and felt like I couldn't breathe. As the room started to blur, Debra and Adalie rushed to my side. "It's okay, Kayda," Debra said reassuringly. "It's okay. It's over." They lowered me, shaking almost uncontrollably, to the mat, and Debra hugged me tightly. "It's okay, honey," she whispered intensely into my ear. "It's over."

My breathing and trembling slowed. I looked around, wide-eyed, feeling panicky, trying to control my shaking. Debra held me tight, and Adalie was holding my hand reassuringly. Mom, too, was close, holding a hand. It took a moment for me to realize that she was totally confused.

"When she fights ... boys," Adalie was explaining to Mom, "sometimes Kayda 'as difficulty because of what 'appened to 'er." She must have read a surprised look from Mom. "Oui, Madame," she continued politely. "Kayda 'as told me and Alicia about the ... attacks. We 'elp 'er in Martial Arts. She _is_ getting better." I'm sure Mom looked stunned. "In the past, she 'as completely collapsed and we 'ave 'ad to take 'er to the 'ospital."

It took a bit for me to regain all my composure, during which time Debra never let me out of her embrace. "Are you okay now?" she asked softly.

I nodded hesitantly. "It's ... over?"

Adalie squeezed my hand. "You did well, Kayda," she said.

"It doesn't feel like it," I said, shuddering involuntarily. I looked at Mom and tried to smile. "Dr. Bellows thinks I'm making progress. I only had one full panic attack this week."

"One ... panic attack?" Mom looked horrified. "This week? You've had more?"

"Yeah," I acknowledged softly. "I've been taken to Doyle a couple times because they say I was ... kind of catatonic."

"Oh, honey!" Mom cried, completely surprised. "I don't think you should be doing ...."

"No, Mom," I countered immediately, not even letting her finish. "Debra and Wish List are right. Wakan Tanka is right. Dr. Bellows is right. I have to work through this, no matter how hard it is. I _need_ to do this." A strange thought occurred to me, and I lowered my head, shaking it. "And I guess this means that Ito is right, too," I spat.

"You and Sensei Ito aren't getting along?" Debra asked.

"'Ardly," Adalie chuckled. "'E pushes us all very 'ard, but especially Kayda, because of 'er enemies and 'er condition."

"He's ...," my lip trembled as I tried to control my anger at the thought of the sadistic little instructor, "sunkce!" I spat.

"Kayda!" Mom barked at me. "That's no way to talk about your teacher."

I'd forgotten that Mom spoke Lakota. I blushed and looked down, a bit ashamed - mostly at being called out on it by Mom. She leaned close to Debra and whispered in Debra's ear. "He's been called much worse," Debra giggled, "and often to his face." She saw Adalie's puzzled look, so she whispered the translation to Adalie.

Adalie's eyes widened. "You are lucky 'e didn't understand!"

I blushed. "From the way Sensei Tolman reacted, I think she got the gist of my comment. She wasn't too happy, either."

"Let's shower so we can go shopping," Wish List suggested. There was no objection.

"You guys can fool around here if you want," Mom said to Dad and Danny. "I'm sure you'd rather do this than go shopping with us girls."

Tractor grinned. "I think we can entertain them with some demonstrations while you're out. And if you take as long as you _usually_ do," he added, grinning, "we've got some good _guy_ movies we can watch."

Danny paused, glancing at the girls. "Is Card Trick going with you?" he asked, and then he flinched, realizing what he'd said. "I mean, you might need someone to help," he added quickly, trying to recover to hide his obvious crush on Valerie, "to carry stuff."

Dad put his hand on Danny's shoulder. "You've never experienced women shopping," he said to the young man. "Trust me, you do _not_ want to go. Besides trying on everything in every store, they'll be talking 'girl stuff', and that can get pretty embarrassing."

Walking into the locker room, Wish List smiled. "Your little brother is really crushing on Val, isn't he?"

I felt a little embarrassed for Danny, and how obvious he was being. "Yeah."

"Should we disappoint him and tell him that she's got a boyfriend in St. Paul?" Debra asked.

Wish List shook her head. "Nah. Let him have his fantasy for a couple of days."

* * * * * *

Sioux Falls League Headquarters, dinnertime

"You really didn't have to do this for dinner, Pete," Farm Boy repeated as he loaded up his plate for seconds. "We have a very good cook on staff."

"Nonsense," Dad rebutted cheerfully. He'd ordered Japanese food from the restaurant we'd enjoyed the last time I was in Sioux Falls. Given how Debra and Tractor ate, he'd ordered a rather huge quantity, and had placed the order a couple of days ago so they'd have time to prepare the massive order. That also meant that the League couldn't object too strongly. The restaurant probably though they were catering a party of sixty to seventy people. "After all you guys have done for my s...." He stopped himself, giving a half-chuckle. "You know that's kind of hard to get used to."

"Tell me about it," I snorted. Debra paused from shoveling in a mouthful of food to give me a 'look'.

"Fifteen years of saying, 'my boy', and suddenly, poof - I've got to get used to saying 'my little girl'."

"You think you've got it tough?" I sputtered. "Imagine how I feel! I went through it too, you know, and it was a little more personal for me!" I chuckled. "You're not the one who changed, and who keeps having dreams about a stupid black deer, and getting lectured by a spirit in your head about accepting both spirits, and about being 'two spirits'."

Addy chose that moment to return from the restroom; fortunately, at least _she_ hadn't heard Dad's inadvertent revelation of my sex change.

Mom's eyes widened. "You're winkte," she said, a strange look on her face.

I gazed at her for a moment, trying to discern exactly what she was thinking, but I couldn't read her expression. "Yes," I finally said softly. Mom smiled knowingly, looking even a bit proud, while those around me puzzled at the very brief exchange. I wasn't going to be able to hide that facts from Addy; eventually, someone would say something or she'd figure it out. I was going to have to explain it to Adalie sooner or later. And I was going to have to explain the meaning of winkte to Julie and Addy.

"Did you ladies enjoy shopping?" Tractor asked Vanity Girl to change the subject.

"We had a very nice afternoon," she replied to Tractor.

Julie was beaming. "It was very nice," she replied. "Your mom bought me some outfits to replace the stuff I had to leave at home." She beamed at Mom. "Thank you, Mrs. Franks."

Mom gave her a politely scolding look. "It's June, remember? And you're very welcome."

"Did you leave any money in the account?" Dad joked to Mom.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" I asked, interrupting the money talk.

Mom and Dad shrugged and looked at Debra for answers.

"Tomorrow after lunch, we're flying to the Hills. The folks at HPARC want to talk to you a bit about some of your experiences."

"There aren't a lot of direct flights," Dad observed.

"We'll be on a private plane that HPARC is borrowing from the Air National Guard. In exchange for a few hours of time consulting about Native American demons and spirits," Debra continued, "they're providing us use of the plane, lodging, and a van to drive around the Hills."

"We?" I asked, not quite sure I'd heard her correctly.

"Yes, _we_," Debra smiled coyly at me. "You don't think I'm going to have you _this_ close and not spend the whole week with you, do you? Anyway, your grandmother has set up something with the Sicangu tribe in Mission on the Rosebud Reservation, and then we'll return to your home."

"I can't go home!" I protested, paling at the thought. Last time I'd been there wasn't a pleasant memory.

"We'll be okay," Debra reassured me - and Julie. "You have a trained, licensed superhero with you, and you and Adalie are much better able to use your powers if necessary. Besides, we might never go into town if you're too worried about it."

"We'll see," I replied nervously. There _were_ a couple of friends who hadn't been one of the attackers, and I did miss them.

"We'll come back here," Debra continued, "and then you and Adalie can fly back to Whateley."

Something caught my attention. "What about Julie?" I asked cautiously.

"We've made arrangements for her to stay with her aunt - on her mother's side - in the Twin Cities. She hates her father," she glanced at Julie, "no offense intended," she interjected.

"My aunt hates Daddy, too," Julie said, her voice dripping with venom, "so she's who I want to stay with."

"So," Vanity Girl changed the subject, "what did you guys do all afternoon? Watch 'guy' movies? Play in the gym?"

Danny grinned. "They showed me some real cool things, and we sparred a little in the gym. I hope I manifest so I can get cool powers like that! Just ... not like you did," he added a bit nervously. I could understand that; he was afraid that he'd change sex like I had, which would be a frightening prospect to _any_ teenage male.

After dinner, we adjourned to the living area, where we talked late into the night. Since most of us there were either students at Whateley, or alumni, there were a _lot_ of Whateley stories, which left Mom, Dad, and Julie kind of left out. Danny, though, was enraptured by the stories.

When I described the battle with snakey, Mom and Dad both got wide-eyed. In fact, all of the group except Debra were quite surprised. The League members, in particular, knew what it meant when I described snake-face as a Class X entity, but my family was confused. When I explained it, I thought Mom was going to faint. Of course, that led Danny to asking if I'd been in any other fights. Debra chuckled, knowing that my list of fights was rather long, especially since I'd only been on campus a few weeks. I gave them a short summary, omitting a lot of the details, so as not to cause Mom and Dad additional panic.

That inevitably led Wish List to ask about one fight that I'd omitted, which led to Debra asking about another one, and then Vanity Girl asked about a third. Valerie got in on the act, and as they ping-ponged back and forth, mentioning incident after incident, Mom's and Dad's eyes got wider and wider.

Mom finally scowled at me. "You didn't tell me all of that!" she huffed.

I winced. "I ... I thought I did," I said meekly, knowing it was a lame excuse. I purposefully hadn't told my parents, because I was afraid that they'd pull me out of Whateley.

Dad was frowning. "I think we're going to have a little talk, young lady," he said sternly. He's sure slipped into 'stern daddy mode' pretty quickly, even after protesting that earlier that he wasn't used to thinking of me as his little girl.

"Dad," I protested, "it's no worse than what happened to me before I got to Whateley. In fact, it's better, because I'm learning to defend myself, and I'm learning to use my powers, and campus security is pretty good about keeping things from getting out of hand."

"Unless it's security that's trying to kill you," Dad rebutted, a serious frown carved into his features, a very determined look that didn't exactly bode well. "And I don't like the idea of you having to fight snake demon things!"

"Dad, Whateley's a perfect place for me right now! My friends and the faculty there are helping me with everything!"

"We're going to have a talk about this nevertheless."

"Dad, the snake demon was _already_ chasing me as soon as I manifested! If you took me out of Whateley, I wouldn't have the protection I have there! Besides, compared to fighting Unhcegila's son, a few little fights here and there at school are good training for self-defense."

Valerie looked at me, eyes wide. "Good training?" She shook her head slowly. "That's _not_ the way I hear Debra tell it!"

Debra took my hand and turned directly to Dad. "Pete," she began, "I know what Kayda is facing, and the challenges she has as a mutant. We _all_ know. No matter what, it's going to be a very dangerous world for her just because of that." She shrugged. "Hell, living is dangerous. You can't take away all the risk. In my opinion, based on my experiences, Whateley is the best place for Kayda." She looked at me and clasped my hand with both of hers, a fairly intimate and blatant gesture. "You _know_ I wouldn't want her to be there if I thought it was more dangerous for her."

I gulped; Debra was practically declaring to all of the group that she was my sweetie, and I was going to have to explain some things to Julie and Adalie.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Twinkletoes interjected. "Whateley _is_ a dangerous school Kids get hurt and killed there every year. But for people like us, it's statistically safer than trying to go to school with baselines in a mutant-unfriendly world." He stared evenly at Dad. "You know that from what's happened already."

That sort-of defused the arguments from Mom and Dad, but I knew that there _was_ going to be more discussion before the week was over, just as Dad had promised. He seemed to have taken to the role of Daddy protecting his precious daughter like a duck to water, and unfortunately, I was on the receiving end of his suddenly-acquired over-protective instincts.

Wish List turned the conversation back to some of the unique aspects of Whateley, like magic classes, the rabbits' warren of devisor labs underground, the arenas and combat, and the various ranges - of which I'd seen one. Debra, Wish List, Valerie, Addy, and I had a lot of fun exchanging stories about the various cliques and clubs. I'd missed some of the activities and stories because I got there late; apparently, last year, a gal named Freya was running the Alphas, and she'd turned them into Bullies Central, which the Don and Hekate had continued into that school year, until their inevitable downfall - and there was much rejoicing. I, in turn, regaled them with tales I'd heard from my friends about Don and Hekate and how much better the Alphas had become under Kodiak.

The previous year, the three had seen the change in Cav and Skybolt, and they were very shocked to find that it had been a very dark spell from Hekate that had made them mind-slaves to the Don. Based on what I'd been told by Team Kimba, Hekate was a very nasty piece of work, which fit in with the girls' opinions of her. The girls, though, were almost in tears from laughing so hard when Adalie regaled them with the tale of the Don's lamp enema.

Eventually, we realized that the older crowd had gone to bed. Danny was still up, but that was less because of the Whateley tales and more because of his interest in Valerie. Julie probably would have felt a little left out, except several of the League had been suggesting that Julie should apply to Whateley to start next fall. If she didn't have an aunt in the Twin Cities, they would have helped her apply right then, and Mom and Dad were pretty adamant that they'd help her with tuition if needed. That's just how my parents were; when we'd been dating, they treated her as if she was part of the family. Now that she'd asked for help from them, they weren't going to deny her any help they could give.

"It's almost one," Debra finally noted. "We should get to bed."

That drew a couple of derisive snorts, but no-one really protested strongly, because we were all tired, and yawns were becoming much more frequent. Besides, Addy and I were used to a ten pm curfew and lights-out, and with the hour time change, we were up _way_ past our usual bed-time.

I hurried to get the bathroom first for my nightly duties before Julie and Adalie, and then slipped to Debra's room. She was waiting eagerly, and we wrapped ourselves into a passionate embrace, our lips desperately seeking the other's. Just kissing her was making me feel tingly all over, and I was in no hurry to end that wonderful sensation.

We must have smooched for five minutes without stopping, and my hand was definitely wandering to her breast because I was eager for so much more, but she was stronger-willed than I because when I let my hand start sliding down toward her waist, she gently caught it.

"Soon enough," she gently chided me. "Be patient, my love."

"I can't wait," I protested, knowing that she wouldn't listen.

"South Dakota and New Hampshire laws both say the age of consent is sixteen as long as there's a three-year or less age difference - which there is. So we only have to wait a couple of weeks until your birthday."

"Yeah, but I'll be at Whateley, and you'll be here! And the term doesn't end until June!" I was _really_ sexually frustrated at that point. "What if ...."

"What if _what_?"

"What if ... you come out to visit in a couple of weeks?" I prompted.

Debra chuckled. "Don't think that I haven't thought of that! But it'd be expensive, and ..."

"Mom and Dad could pay for it!"

"Yeah? How are you going to ask them? Mom? Would you please pay for a trip so Debra can come visit me after my birthday so we can have sex?" she giggled. "I'm sure that would go over _real_ well."

I conceded her point, unable to not giggle myself at the rather absurd way she'd phrased the conversation with Mom. "I suppose," I said reluctantly before returning to making out with Debra, sitting on her lap on her bed as we kissed and did a little light petting. Eventually, though, she reluctantly scooted me to the door, giving me one last kiss before I left.

Adalie and Julie were giving me knowing looks when I crawled into bed; I must have been with Debra longer than I realized.

"Kayda," Julie asked timidly, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I replied a little nervously. I hadn't talked much to Julie in the past few weeks, and I had no idea what was on her mind.

"What's it like - being a mutant in the open, I mean?"

I hesitated before answering. "It's ... hard sometimes," I admitted candidly. "I really miss home, but I know there are people who won't ever accept me."

Julie nodded. "That's kind of what I figured."

"I encountered the same thing at my 'ome," Addy put in. "Even with some super-'ero friends, some people are just afraid of mutants."

"At least your family didn't turn on you," Julie said, her voice a little bitter.

"It happens," I said. "One person in my cottage ... is Ayla Goodkind."

I heard a gasp from Julie. Everyone know how rabidly anti-mutant the Goodkinds were.

"Yeah. When Ayla manifested," I continued, "the Goodkinds turned ... her over to a mad scientist to experiment on for several days, then kicked her out and left her penniless."

"Wow!"

"Yeah. And there are some students whose stories are worse."

Addy nodded. "Like yours," she deadpanned. I shot her a disapproving look because I really didn't like thinking about my first week after manifesting.

"That was awful!" Julie observed.

"Some mutants end up as criminals," Addy noted, "because their families and friends reject them, and they 'ave no choice if they want to survive." She sighed. "A criminal gang tried to make me work with them after I escaped from the French MCO."

"I'll always be your friend," I said to reassure Julie.

"I guess," Julie said, her voice trembling. "I'm glad of that," she continued.

I scooted to her bed to give her a hug. "Everything's going to be okay," I assured her. "Mom and Dad and I will do anything we can to help. From what I've seen, Mom and Dad treat you like their own daughter."

"Thanks," Julie sniffled, fighting to not be overwhelmed by her situation. "That ... helps to know you haven't forgotten about me. Even if you can't be my boyfriend anymore."

My eyes narrowed, which she couldn't see because my head was on her shoulder, and I looked directly into Addy's eyes, wide as they were with surprise at Julie's revelation.

"That explains a lot," Addy said softly.

Julie leaned back from me, staring at my face, reading the genuine fear that I was feeling. "Oh," she said, "I ... didn't know that you hadn't told Addy!"

I lowered my gaze, shaking my head. "I haven't told many people at all. You know what happened to me because I'm a mutant. Imagine the reaction I'd get if people knew I'd changed sex," I said to both of them. "My life would be in danger from both the anti-mutant crowd and from the anti-transgendered crowd."

Julie and Addy were silent; I knew Addy's story, or some of it, and she understood only too well how people could threaten the lives of mutants. It wasn't a stretch for either of them to extrapolate an understanding of the hatred they'd felt into my sex-change situation.

"Please promise to never tell anyone else," I said, my tone conveying the urgency of my request and the fear that was in my heart. Anti-gay bigotry was pretty bad, but anti-trans sentiment was that much worse.

"I promise," Addy said solemnly.

"Yeah. Me too," Julie added.

I crawled back into my own bed. "What's new back home?" I asked, changing the subject.

"The rumor is that Cheryl is knocked up," Julie reported the juicy gossip.

"Who? Wasn't she dating Harry a while ago?"

Julie giggled. "We didn't think he had it in him! But yeah, he's the daddy."

"That's going to mess up his college plans." I sighed. "He and Cheryl are two who didn't ... try to kill me," I added sadly.

"Speaking of _that_, Scott and Shelly are walking around like they're scared, and always looking over their shoulders."

"Really? Why?" I asked, curious.

"The ... guys ... aren't talking out loud, but _all_ of them seem to be _very_ nervous. They keep whispering about 'that damned mutant did it again,' and stuff like that."

"Did _what_?" I was a little outraged. "They _know_ I'm not living there anymore."

Julie shrugged. "From what I hear, there are some really weird things happening to them. Notes left on their dressers, bull ... parts ... hanging in their cars, threats, beatings. Strange things, and the sheriff can't find _any_ clues. Then the other night, Scott and JJ got beaten up pretty badly, and Rich to a lesser extent - in town, just down the street from the burger place."

"You're kidding!" I couldn't say I wasn't happy about bad things happening to them, but physical assault? The folks in town were going to blame me.

"Worse, though - all three had 'RAPIST' written in permanent marker on their foreheads."

"You're shitting me!"

Julie shook her head solemnly. "We all saw it. Everyone is asking what it means, but the guys are being pretty quiet about it."

"Serves them right," I said angrily. "That's what they are!" I suddenly realized how angry and tense I was, so I closed my eyes a moment and did an exercise Wakan Tanka had taught me to calm myself.

We talked a while longer; Addy was having fun comparing American high school drama and gossip to that of her own school. Amazingly, a lot of the themes were similar - who was dating who, who'd broken up, girls trying to sabotage each other to get the attention of the 'desirable' boy, and such. Finally, I realized that I wasn't catching all the conversation, but was nodding off a bit.

"I'm about to fall asleep, and it's going to be a busy day tomorrow."

"Okay. Dormez bien," Addy said. I turned out the light, and Julie and I could both hear her head hitting the pillow. She was probably asleep within moments.

"Uh, Kayda?" Julie asked softly as we lay on our beds in the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Um," she started, halting and sounding nervous. "Um, I don't know if you want to talk about it," she continued nervously. "But ... well, are you ...?"

I thought only a brief moment. "Yes, I'm interested in girls."

"I can't say as I blame you," Julie replied quickly.

"How ... how did you know?"

Julie chuckled. "Is Debra your girlfriend?"

I lay in bed for a moment, astonished. I _thought_ we were being discrete. "Uh, why do you ask?"

Julie chuckled again. "So she _is_ your girlfriend.

"Yeah," I admitted softly. "How did you guess?"

"You two are about as subtle as a hurricane," Julie giggled. "It was pretty obvious." She thought for a moment, and I was too uneasy about the conversation to volunteer any information. "So, what's it like? Sex, I mean?"

It was a good thing that the light was out so Julie couldn't see me turn red. "I ... I don't know," I answered slowly.

"What? You mean you two haven't ...?"

"No. I'm not sixteen yet, so it's illegal and Debra could get in a lot of trouble."

"Oh. Isn't your birthday in a few weeks?"

"Yeah," I replied, a little unhappily. "But I'll be at Whateley, and she'll be back here."

"You'll have a break soon enough, and you'll be home for the summer I hope."

I nodded, but inside, I was in knots. I didn't want to wait that long. "Yeah, I suppose. Good night."

"Good night, Kayda."

I turned out the light and let my head flop on my pillow. I think I was asleep in seconds, and almost immediately, I entered my dream world, where Debra awaited.

* * * * * *

Kayda's Hometown, nearly midnight

A hand across his mouth startled JJ out of sleep. His eyes were wide open instantly, and he struggled to sit up, but there were enough hands holding him that he couldn't move. Looking around, or trying to look around fearfully, he saw only a shadowy figure with a face hidden by a mask. Quickly, professionally, he was passed out his bedroom window, and still held immobile, his arms and legs were trussed up with duct tape, including a gag across his mouth. Someone else was in the bed of the truck, not that he could tell in the inky blackness of night. The truck rolled a ways down the street away from his house, and then the motor started and the truck sped away from JJ's house.

Bound and gagged and bouncing around roughly, JJ had no idea how far the pickup drove, or how long; it felt like hours, and with each passing second, his sense of terror increased and his body got more banged up from the road bumps.

It felt to JJ like the pickup turned off the road, and then it stopped. JJ and his mysterious companion were roughly pulled out of the pickup and held upright.

The men facing JJ were wearing all black, with masks that seemed ethereal and ghostly. "You had your chance," one of the men snarled. "You were given more opportunities to avoid consequences, but you chose to ignore us."

"How do your friends, family, and teachers feel about you committing rape and attempted murder? Are your parents proud of you?" a second deep voice asked mockingly.

JJ tried to whimper, but a hammer-fist smashing onto his collarbone shocked him and a cry came from behind the duct tape. He tried to collapse, but rough hands held him firmly.

"Every blow that was delivered will be returned many times over," the first voice said, echoing like it was from a tomb. "This is your _first_ judgment day."

Another fist pounded into JJ's side hard, causing the boy to flinch. His eyes were wide with terror, knowing that he was going to be beaten almost to death.

The group of men taunted JJ and his compatriot, who JJ finally caught a glimpse of. Skelly was taking as vicious a beating as JJ, and he was openly whimpering. If he could have spoken, no doubt he'd have been begging for mercy, but the duct tape made that impossible, and the men made it clear that the time for confession was gone for these two.

The beating seemed to go on four hours; massive pulses of pain radiated from everywhere on JJ's body, and he'd felt like he was going to pass out many times. Finally, sure he was going to be beaten to death, the men sat him up, leaning against a wheel of the truck.

A cup was held in front of his face, and the duct tape was painfully torn from his skin. "Drink this," the voice ordered.

JJ was going to refuse, but his nose was pinched shut, and his head tilted back. When he had to breathe, the liquid - foul-tasting and hot - was poured into his mouth, and he couldn't help but swallow the fluid. Coughing, gasping for breath, he was forced again and again to drink the beverage. Surprisingly to him, as he drank, the aches seemed to fade, and bones he _knew_ were broken tingled as if they were knitting back together.

"Did you enjoy the last few hours?" the commanding voice boomed at him.

JJ looked up, terror in his eyes. He weakly shook his head no.

"Confess."

"The sheriff ... will find you," he said, somehow finding a tiny reserve of defiance.

"And charge us with what?" the man laughed, joined by his fellows. "By the time you are home, you'll be completely healed. There will be no trace of our fun."

Another leaned forward, his ghostly face inches from JJ. "We can do this as often as we want, and there will be no evidence. Ever." He watched as his words sank into the terrified teen's sleep- and pain-addled brain. "And you'll never know when we'll come for you again. Nowhere will be safe."

JJ heard Skelly whimpering with fright, and the smell of urine permeated the air. He didn't know if it was from him or Skelly, though. No doubt, he'd pissed himself at least once during the hours of torture.

"Drink this," another man said, shoving another cup in front of JJ. He hesitated, and immediately the men pinched his nose and forced the draught into his mouth. Coughing from beside him told JJ that Skelly was being forced to drink as well.

As he was bundled and hoisted into the truck, the world started to get fuzzy, and his limbs started tingling and not responding to JJ's mental commands. The boys were both asleep within seconds, their bodies stressed by the beating, the healing drinks, and the sleeping draught.

The leader pulled his hood back and took out his cell phone. "Grey Skies?"

"Yes. How did it go?" the raspy voice sounded through the speaker.

In answer, the man tilted his head back and gave a war victory cry, a primal scream of triumph. The others joined his vocal celebration. "It went as you said," the man finally said into the phone.

"Celebrate later. You must get them back without leaving a clue."

"We are ghost walkers," one of the men snapped. "We don't leave clues."

"Remember who you're talking to," the voice on the phone snapped. "It is only through my power that you can do as you do."

"Understood," the man who'd been arrogant replied, his voice now humble.

"We will need more of the special drinks," the leader said.

"You will have everything you need," Gray Skies replied coolly. "Get them home, and then go to the house to rest. I have two more names for tomorrow night."

"Will we have to beat the girls?" another of the ghost-warriors asked, worriedly.

"Would you have me make you break your oath to the societies? Would you have me make you disgrace your tribe and your families?" Gray Skies demanded. "You will not beat the girls. You know that it's against our laws. But I have a way to shame them that is allowable."

"We will do as you say, Gray Skies." The man hung up the phone, and the men couldn't help letting out another victorious cry.

* * * * * *

Sunday, April 8, 2007

After church and brunch, which Dad again generously treated, Julie had some quick power tests done, which I got a kick out of. It was fun to watch someone else in the torture chamber instead of myself, and I probably laughed a little too much at seeing her endure the unpleasant testing. It turned out that she had a very low-level ability to feel or sense magic, but no wizard abilities. She was a warper, and to the best of their ability to test her, Wish List and Tractor felt that her warping ability went along with plant sensitivity explained how she suddenly teleported to a tree when she'd escaped her dad's drunken rage.

We went to the MCO office to get Julie a provisional MID. I didn't go in, but Debra, Valerie, and Tractor all accompanied her - just in case. Less than fifteen minutes later she had her card, which see seemed both sad and giddy about. Because it was only a provisional card so she could travel, she hadn't had to pick out a code-name yet, but the card, and presumably her file, were marked 'Jane Doe 627-51'.

The group of us who were traveling - Mom, Dad, Danny, Julie, Adalie, Debra, Valerie, and I - drove to the airport, bypassing the main terminal and going instead to one of the Fixed Base Operators. Even then, an MCO agent met us to review our MID cards. After dealing with the Sioux Falls MCO before, I was genuinely nervous, but Debra and Valerie helped me stay calm through the surprisingly quick and non-confrontational check. After we were through, Debra noted that the new MCO agents were a lot more cordial than the pair that had been removed.

The airplane waiting for us was a small twin-engine military turboprop called a C-12, with luxury seating for eight - which was exactly the size of our party. It was normally used to ferry generals around, so the interior was pretty plush, and the seats swiveled to allow little conversation groups if desired. Normally, this plane held nineteen passengers, so we had a lot of extra space. I was surprised that the pilot wasn't a 'blue suiter', an Air Force officer, but rather an Army National Guard officer; I'd assumed that if it had wings, the Air Force flew it. He greeted us politely as we boarded, and I assumed that he gave me the admiring once-over that I saw him direct at Valerie and Debra. That was a little creepy, but since I was with Debra, I kept myself from having a panic attack at the thought of being mentally undressed by the lech. Then again, I remembered when I was a guy - a couple of months ago. I would have done the same thing, but perhaps a little less obviously. I _hoped_ that I had been able to be less obvious back then.

The 'preflight' safety briefing from the pilot was short and to the point, without a steward roaming up and down the aisles checking our seat belts and tray tables and giving us the lecture about the yellow oxygen masks. The pilot also pointed out the small lavatory and the refreshments in the rear of the plane, and then he pulled the door closed, started the engines, and got us in the air.

I assumed that Julie had never flown before, because she was visibly nervous. Debra and I took it upon ourselves to distract her - and in turn, we were distracted by Adalie who was absolutely dumbfounded at the lack of small cities and towns and the wide-open space beneath us that characterized rural South Dakota. In France, she told us, the average population density in the rural areas was between forty and a hundred people per square kilometer, whereas beneath us, the average rural population density was less than ten per square mile! Naturally, with so much space, she assumed that everyone was a 'cowboy' like the French stereotype of "les Americains", which led to a game of comparing stereotypes, which in turn led to a game of comparing 'folk sayings' between Addy's home region in France and South Dakota. Some of the expressions were quite ... naughty and even downright crude, and we were giggling like schoolgirls as we explained them. I could see that Danny, sitting on the other side of the plane in front of Julie, was blushing furiously because he was listening in. We figured that he was learning a lesson about eavesdropping on girls, given how racy some of the sayings were getting.

With our conversations and games, it seemed like the flight took no time at all, and before we knew it, we landed at the Spearfish airport. No sooner had we disembarked than two people walked toward us, one a tall, slender, thirty-something man with his eyes ablaze with energy, wearing a suit and tie and having a generous dose of worry hovering about him like a personal raincloud, and the other a shorter woman in a casual shirt and blue jeans, with her white hair in a ponytail, and a weathered, dark-toned face replete with, and even celebrating, wrinkles and lines of her age. It was hard to tell if she was sixty or eighty, and she bore herself with the demeanor of a wise grandmother.

Dad was first in line to greet them, possibly out a sense of masculine protectiveness. "I'm Pete Franks," he said, shaking hands with the suited gentleman.

"Dr. Ernst Schmidt," the man introduced himself. "I'm the director of HPARC." He turned to mom. "You must be Mrs. Franks?"

Mom nodded, shaking his hand. "Please just call me June."

Debra leaned closer. "She doesn't want him to call her until June?" she whispered loudly enough that Addy, Julie, Valerie, and I could hear

"No, she said call her June," I shot back, trying to stifle giggles.

"That's what I asked," Debra chuckled.

"Call her June today?" Valerie asked?

"But it's not June today. It's March," Julie joined in, giggling right along with us. Addy, though, looked a little confused by the wordplay

"No, it's June."

"It won't be June for a couple of months. What do I call you?" Valerie asked.

"June."

"I said what, not when. And it's today."

"Today? Not June?"

"I said, call me June."

"I thought you said call you today!"

We continued this for a bit, until I saw Dad giving me a 'stern parent' look. Somehow, after dealing with Mrs. Carson and her 'glare of supreme authority', Dad's determined scowl seemed rather ... unimpressive.

"This is my daughter," Dad began to introduce me to Dr. Schmidt.

"Ah," he said, shaking my hand. "You must be Kayda. We've heard a lot about you."

"Oh?" I was nervous, both because a man was touching me, and because he indicated that he knew about me.

"Charlie Lodgeman speaks very highly of you."

"You honor us with your presence, Kayda," the woman said in perfect Lakota. "I am Hazel Two Bears." She clasped my hand firmly with both of hers and stared deeply into my eyes. It was a little unnerving. "Yes," she said after a moment. "You _are_ the Ptesanwi. I can feel it."

I flinched. "I don't want to make a big fuss over that," I replied softly. "I'm afraid of what will happen if everyone finds out who my spirit is."

Hazel chuckled. "You can't keep who you are secret from our People. They _will_ recognize the Ptesanwi."

"Great," I grumbled.

"Celebrate it. You give the people a reason to be happy and hopeful. Would you be so selfish as to deny them that?"

Great. Now in addition to a crotchety white buffalo and a Lakota demi-goddess, I had an old Lakota woman nagging me, too.

We finished the introductions and then piled into two vans - one of which was larger and would be ours to use while we were in the Hills. Debra, Addy, Julie, and I were in the van Hazel was driving. "You guys are being awfully generous to us," I commented as we drove down Spearfish Canyon. I noticed that Addy was enraptured by the scenery around us. I chuckled, "This is nothing. I wish it was autumn so you could see it when the leaves change color. _That's_ spectacular."

"We _do_ expect a little consulting out of you," Hazel chuckled.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." I saw her wince. "We've got a few ... items ... here that we want to talk with you about. Things that I've heard you're pretty familiar with."

"Like?" I tried to draw out more information.

"We'll talk more when we get to the facility." Hazel was being circumspect, probably because she didn't know much she could talk in front of Addy, Julie, and Debra.

Addy's 'tourist' fascination jumped into high gear when we drove down into Deadwood and I told her of the town's history from the Gold Rush days. Naturally, she wanted to see more of the town and its history. It was a very short drive from there to Lead, site of the HPARC, and we drove into a non-descript building, followed closely by the other van. After the outside doors had shut, we walked to an elevator that carried us from the garage down into the former mine, to a well-lighted, well-appointed area that looked like it was out of a Star Trek set. Addy, Julie, and I exchanged nervous glances at the number of security checks and devices we were passing through.

"Who was your interior decorator," Mom asked, smiling. "Gene Roddenberry?"

Hazel and Dr. Schmidt chuckled.

Addy shook her head in disgust at the décor. "Bah!" she scoffed. "So ... ugly. So lifeless. Even in my sleep, I could design an interior that was better than this ... sterile utilitarian garbage!"

I smiled. "Addy wants to be an interior architect and designer."

Hazel and Mom nodded knowingly, while my little brother just rolled his eyes. When we went into a conference room, Mom deadpanned, "Isn't there supposed to be a little triangular display thing on the table?"

"And a couple of red-shirt guards," I added. "Don't forget the red-shirt guards." Dad chuckled, which surprised me.

"Sorry," Dr. Schmidt chuckled, "Scotty has it in the shop for repair." The room did, though, have a holographic projector, so I knew that a computer display wouldn't be an issue if we needed it.

"There are a couple of Native American spirit creatures that we have recently ... acquired," Hazel said, glancing at me as we all sat down around the table, "and we want to find out anything you can tell us about them."

I shrugged. "Sure." Across the table, Mom and Dad both had worry written all over their faces.

"According to Charlie," Dr. Schmidt said, "you fought against a spirit creature on your way to Whateley." He fiddled with a computer and a sketch of a water panther was displayed on the monitor.

"The Mishibijiw? Yeah." Gak - that seemed so long ago. Had it really only been a month? And had I had that many adventures that it seemed almost dull? "It attacked me, somewhere in Pennsylvania, I think. I killed it."

"You ... killed it? By yourself?" Dr. Schmidt seemed skeptical.

"Well, I did have this," I said, pulling out Wakan Mila.

Hazel focused on it, and I could feel some magic energy swimming about her as she studied the knife. Her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when she recognized the dagger from its mystical signature. "That's ... the knife of Ptesanwi."

"Yeah," I acknowledged with a diffident shrug. "Wakan Ta...." I belatedly realized that I should shut up.

Hazel exchanged a glance with Dr. Schmidt, and then she pasted on a smile. "We have a lot of questions," she said to Mom and Dad, "and they're probably going to be rather boring. Rather than sit around listening to this dry, dull discussion, you could take advantage of the time and go see Deadwood. If you had more time, hiking to the top of Harney Peak would be fun; the view from the top is spectacular."

I knew instantly what was going on. They wanted to talk about a few things that they considered sensitive, and they didn't want to alarm my family. "Why don't you go do that?" I asked Mom. "This is going to be pretty boring if it's anything like what I did at Whateley."

"I'll stay with her," Debra immediately volunteered. "I did all the tourist stuff when I was a little girl, but I'm sure Addy and Julie want to see the sights."

It took a little arguing and persuading, but eventually they all left to play tourist while Debra and I stayed.

"You were saying?" Hazel picked right up where I'd left off as soon as the others were gone. I glanced warily at Debra, wondering how much I should tell them. Hazel picked up on that. "It's okay, dear," she said reassuringly with a smile. "I know that you channel Wakan Tanka. That _is_ the role of the Ptesanwi."

"Yeah," I acknowledged. "She somehow gave me the knife in our world. Good thing, too," I snorted."

"And that's how you killed the underwater panther?" Dr. Schmidt asked.

"Yeah. And it's the only reason I was able to fight off a snake demon in my dream world." I shuddered at that memory. Debra noticed; under the table, she clutched my hand reassuringly.

"The snake-demon ... in your dream-world?" Hazel asked, practically awe-struck.

"Yeah. I was dream walking."

I swear if Hazel's eyes bugged out any further, they were going to smack against the opposite wall. "You ... dream-walk? At _your_ age?"

I shrugged, glancing at Debra and trying to keep my mind focused away from our intimate dream walks. "Yeah. So?"

"We'll get to that. First, the Mishibijiw," Dr. Schmidt guided the conversation back to the underwater panther.

I answered more questions, and then they displayed a picture from somewhere in one of their labs. "Yeah, that's the ugly thing," I acknowledged.

Hazel fiddled with the display, zooming in. "The first person who touched it went insane."

"Yeah, it's got the taint from Unhcegila's spawn on it. Just like Officer Matthews and snakey himself."

"What we're worried about is here," Hazel said with a frown as she zoomed in the display to its tail.

"Oh, yeah. The spikes. Wakan Tanka told me to cut them off because they have powerful magic."

"_You_ cut them off?" Dr. Schmidt was astonished. "That ... carcass is a Class X item! They'd be just as dangerous!"

"Yeah," I acknowledged. "But Wakan Tanka said that because Unhcegila is an old enemy, she and I are attuned to his evil energy, so we're kind of immune to it."

"But the spikes - are contaminated," Dr. Schmidt protested.

"And _you_ killed the snake demon? Unhcegila's spawn?" Hazel continued the questioning.

I shrugged. "The second time. I couldn’t kill him the first time in my dream-world, but the second time, I had a lot of help." I couldn't help but chuckle. "It turns out that he's allergic to Wakan Mila."

"And you can look at _him_ too?" Dr. Schmidt asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. But I was afraid when we were fighting that someone else was going to look at him and go insane."

"Let's get back to those copper spikes," Dr. Schmidt said. "They're probably Class X, just like the rest of the body."

I shrugged. "Wakan Tanka taught me how to remove the taint," I replied like it was no big deal. "Good thing, too. The bullets Officer Matthews shot me with were tainted as well, and the taint was interfering with my healing. Just like this week when someone stabbed me with the missing spike."

"Missing spike?" Hazel asked, visibly upset. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "Somehow, someone stole one of Mishibijiw's copper spikes from my room before I could put them in safe storage in the Mystical Arts department. I didn't notice until one of the instructors counted them."

"You mean to say that there's an uncontrolled, Class X-tainted copper spike somewhere on your school's grounds?" Dr. Schmidt asked in astonishment.

"Yeah," I answered, nodding slowly. "But Wakan Tanka says that as soon as I purify the rest of the spikes, the tainted one will stand out like a sore thumb, and we'll be able to track it and recover it."

"You ... purified the spikes?" Hazel asked, disbelief evident in her tone and features.

"Yeah."

Hazel frowned, and then she practically leapt to her feet, grabbing my hand. "Come on," she urged me. "If you can remove the taint ...." I followed her determined pace into an elevator, with Debra and Dr. Schmidt close at our heels, and we descended several levels. After going through some really heavy security, we came to a small room that seemed like a nurse's station. Hazel looked at the monitors, and I followed her gaze.

I gasped in surprise at what I saw on three of the monitors. There were two boys who looked about ten or eleven, each propped up in a hospital bed in a room. They stared unseeing into space, their eyes hollow and their gazes vacant. In the third, a man struggled against a straitjacket, his eyes wild. He was totally disheveled, and his face bruised. I cringed as he fought his restraints, throwing himself violently against the padded walls. I tried to tear my eyes away from the horrible sights on the monitors, but I couldn't.

"The two boys were part of a scout troop," Dr. Schmidt explained, "that was attacked by _something_. We think it was your snake demon. They haven't responded to anything since they were found, and our experts think they were contaminated by that Class X entity. The man touched the carcass of the Mishibijiw in the park where it attacked you. He's been like this ever since."

"And you want me ... to try to heal them?"

Hazel nodded. "Yes. If you can."

After I'd mixed up three batches of the special brew, it took five orderlies to hold down the raving man while I poured some of the foul-smelling cleansing liquid into his mouth. He spat it out on us the first two times, and the third time, he swallowed most of what I'd given him. The boys were much easier - it was like feeding a baby. Once the taint was gone, I began to prepare a healing spell.

"Do not waste your time, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said, her eyes brimming with sadness. "Their minds are gone. There is nothing left to heal."

I fought a sudden deluge of tears at the hopeless plight of the two boys. They seemed so young and ... innocent. "I have to try," I cried.

"Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said, rising and holding me tightly, "there is nothing left to heal. The spawn of Unhcegila has taken their minds."

"Their parents ...." I was practically bawling as I thought of the kids' parents, they had to be heartbroken and totally distraught at losing their boys. I wondered if the parents even _knew_ of their fates. "I have to try."

I opened my medicine pouch and took out the ingredients. "Wakan Tanka," I mumbled softly, "doesn't think it'll work." I saw the look in Hazel's eyes. "She said there's nothing left to heal."

"And you're going to try anyway," Debra said with certainty.

"I _have_ to," I said, fighting tears. "If these were your children ...?"

*********

HPARC Conference Room; late afternoon

Debra held me close, trying to comfort me, while Hazel held my hand. I couldn't stop the tears; every time I thought of the two boys, my eyes resumed watering. As Wakan Tanka had said, I wasn't able to help them, at least not much.

"At least their parents will know that they're alive," Hazel said, trying to put any kind of positive spin on things. "They'll be able to go home."

"As what? As one-year-olds in pre-teen bodies?" I wailed. "And their parents will have to care for them like they were infants for the rest of their lives." I wiped at my tears. "Tell me how that's any comfort to the families!"

"Honey," Debra whispered into my ear, "you're experiencing what any doctor or superhero experiences the first time they can't heal or help someone."

"How would you know?" I shot back, torn between anger and anguish.

"Because of the time I couldn't save a child from a rager," Debra said very softly. "So yes, I know _exactly_ what you're feeling."

I looked at her, totally surprised, seeing the glint of moisture in the corner of her eye - and the look of total understanding. I pulled her close and held her as I wept on her shoulder.

Eventually, the tears quit, even though the heaviness hadn't left my heart. Dr. Schmidt rejoined us, with one of his experts, a guy named Chris Patton, and we continued the discussion for another couple of hours.

We were just about done, and Dr. Schmidt confirmed that my family and friends were on their way back to the site. "Can we get a little of your time tomorrow morning?" Dr. Schmidt asked. "Since you can actually touch the snake demon, I'd like if you could do some exam for us."

I glanced at Debra, and nodded, still feeling the bitter disappointment of my failure to help the boys and the man. I didn't know _how_ I was going to forget that. "Yeah, I guess."

* * * * * *

Rapid City, dinner

"Did you like Deadwood?" I asked Addy. We were sitting around a table in an Italian restaurant, Botticeli's or something like that, and as usual, Debra was shoveling in the food while Danny sat, slack-jawed, watching in amazement.

"Oui," Addy replied happily. On the way from the HPARC, we'd stopped in Deadwood because she wanted us to get an old-style picture with us posing in wild-west themed costumes, an idea she'd gotten that afternoon while they were touring and I was talking to Dr. Schmidt and Hazel Two Bears. All of us girls were dressed in saloon-girl costumes, and Danny was dressed like a straight-laced Cavalry trooper. To make things even more amusing, Dad was dressed like the saloon owner, and Mom was dressed like the Madame overseeing us 'working girls'. It was even funnier because Debra had persuaded Valerie to drape herself in Danny's lap, holding a whiskey bottle and wrapping a boa around his neck like she was teasing him - which she was. Planning to eat late, we went down to Mount Rushmore after the picture session, and Addy seemed almost in awe of the giant carving. I chuckled to myself; she was going to really be impressed by the much larger Crazy Horse monument that was under construction.

"Tomorrow," Mom interrupted, "we'll get up a little early, and after breakfast, we'll drive down to Hot Springs. I think you'll all find the mammoth dig interesting. We'll drive through Custer State Park on the way back up."

"Don't forget that they want me to stop at HPARC tomorrow," I interrupted.

"We'll have lunch at Crazy Horse, drive up to Lead for your meeting, and then we'll drive to the airport so we can fly to Mission."

"Do we have to go to Mission?" I griped. I really wanted to spend more time in the Hills. Tatanka and Wakan Tanka liked it there. "Addy hasn't seen Devil's Tower, and I thought we'd have a nice picnic up by Sylvan Lake."

"Sorry, not this time. Your grandmother has something special planned," Mom answered.

"That's what I'm afraid of," I groaned.

"Per'aps we can do that this summer," Addy said eagerly. "We 'ave to plan our trip when we all get back to Whateley."

"Trip?" Debra asked cautiously.

"Oui," Addy was almost giddy with excitement. "The three of us - Kayda, Alicia, and I - are going to visit our 'omes this summer. Alicia lives in Louisiana, and we will also go to la belle France, to my 'ome."

"I thought you said we'd go to Paris," I noted, a little disappointed. I wanted to see Paris, probably mostly because it was known as _the_ place to go if you went to France.

Addy scowled. "Bordeaux is so much nicer that Paris," she replied with a bit of regional snobbery. "Paris is so ... full of tourists, and the people there are very rude!" She shrugged off the thought. "My papa has a cognac business, and our chef makes the most wonderful desserts with cognac, like chocolate layer mouse cake with cognac."

I looked with pleading eyes at Mom and Dad. "It'll be a lot of fun," I said. "You _will_ let me go?"

"Oh, oui," Addy said, "you _must_ let 'er go! It will be marvellieux! You _have_ to meet mes amies Madame Rousseaux and Soeur Justice!" she babbled enthusiastically. "And if you like, maybe Daphne can teach us to make my very favorite dessert, apricots in caramel-cognac sauce." She half-smiled and shrugged. "I never could quite get the sauce right. Per'aps with a little more practice ...."

I decided to interrupt her, because she was very excited, and as a speedster, she might start babbling at five hundred words a minute. "Please, Mom?" I begged. "It'll be fun, and you always said it'd do us good to learn about other cultures!"

Mom shot me a look that expressed her displeasure at feeling placed on the spot in this public setting. "We'll talk," she said simply.

As long as the group was talking about the tourist things they'd done, I was fine, but when the girls started asking about what I'd done during the day, I found myself fighting my emotions. I couldn't stop thinking of the two boys that I hadn't been able to help. Debra noticed, and she squeezed my hand under the table. I realized that I was getting a lot of puzzled looks from others at the table.

"Supers, one-oh-one," Debra said cryptically. Valerie's eyes widened, and then she nodded knowingly.

"What?" Mom asked, concerned by my reticence to talk and the cryptic phrase from Debra.

"I ... I ...." I could barely speak due to the mental images of those two boys that were seared into my brain, the utterly blank, mindless stare of kids who would never recover and whom I couldn't help.

"It was a lot of discussion about mythical Native American creatures and stuff," Debra offered, coming to my rescue. "Mostly boring stuff, but some parts were probably a little ... upsetting to Kayda, because she had to fight some of them." She turned to Addy, still holding my hand under the table. "If you liked Mt. Rushmore, you're going to be amazed at Crazy Horse." Between Debra and Valerie, they steered the conversation to the touristy stuff and away from my day at HPARC.

Later, in the hotel, I went to Debra and Val's room. As soon as she saw me, Val made a rather lame excuse and hurried out, leaving me alone with Debra. We didn't say anything; she knew I'd had a rough, emotionally trying day, and provided what I needed most - a comforting hug. I couldn't understand how anyone could possibly continue being a hero after something like I'd experienced. Or a doctor or nurse or an EMT.

* * * * * *

Monday, April 9, 2007, morning
Black Hills, SD

I'd hoped that Mom was kidding about our itinerary for Monday. She wasn't. We were on the road to Hot Springs by eight thirty, arriving in Hot Springs about half past nine. Danny and I had been to the mammoth dig a few years earlier, but Addy, Julie, Debra, and Valerie found the site fascinating. It was once a sinkhole into which mammoths had fallen when trying to drink, and their bones piled up as sediment eventually filled the sinkhole. Eventually, bones were found, and an archeological dig started, soon followed by a tourist trap, otherwise known as an 'educational attraction''.

I was bored before Mom and Dad decided we'd had enough; the MST3K routine we were doing about the various piled up mammoths might have given them a bit of a clue. After stopping to pick up a few snacks - which for Debra was a couple of grocery bags full, we set out north toward Custer State Park.

As we drove across one flat area, a small herd of bison decided to cross the road, and Dad stopped about fifty or sixty yards away from the meandering animals. Since we had a few supers with us, we all got out to stretch and gawk at the magnificent animals. Addy was practically shaking from nervousness at the large beasts, while Danny was thrilled. Valerie and Mom were somewhere between the two extremes - cautious about the famed ill tempers of the large animals, but enchanted at seeing them roaming so free and wild. Dad stayed protectively by Mom's side, his trusty 1911 pistol tucked at the ready inside his waistband.

A large bull bison stopped and stared directly at me. I could practically feel his presence, and it felt somehow right to be outdoors in the wild with him. After a few seconds, he turned and plodded slowly toward me, and I began to walk to him.

"Kayda, no!" Dad and Debra called simultaneously, both sounding fearful for my safety as they repeatedly screamed at me to stop.

"It's okay," I said confidently without taking my eyes off the huge beast. "Tatanka is talking to him." I felt very peaceful going toward the lumbering bison, not at all afraid for my safety. I knew Tatanka wouldn't let me go into a situation where I was in danger, especially not from one of his kind.

Debra nearly ran, carefully, keeping a wary eye on me, until she was five or six yards behind me, in range to use her energy push to defend me if necessary. I waved my hand toward her motioning for her to stop. I knew she was terrified for my safety, but I also knew that Tatanka was with me. And I could always cast a shield spell.

The bison stopped, his eyes fixed on me, so I walked the last few steps until I could feel his hot breath. Slowly, I reached up and stroked his forehead, while he nodded deeply to me, almost like he was bowing.

"Hail, mighty tatanka," I said softly, almost reverently. "I am not here to hunt you. Instead, I wish you and your herd prosperity." Of course, he didn't answer, but we stood, facing each other, me scratching and petting his forehead, while he simply looked at me.

It wasn't my dream world, but it wasn't the real world either. I found myself in the prairie in the middle of a vast herd of bison, more animals than I could count. Tatanka was there as well, walking among the great bison like he was king, and given how the other animals nodded at him, he probably was. Or emperor, or prince, or whatever a supreme bison spirit would be called.

In the distance, I saw a few cows with calves, and further up a hillside, I was startled to see a small pack of wolves stalking a calf that was separated from its mother.

"Tatanka," I said urgently. "There are ...."

"There are wolves stalking that calf. I know, Wihakayda. Just watch," he said.

At almost the same moment that the wolves charged the calf, several mature bison, having smelled or heard the wolves, charged to surround it. The wolves, fearsome though they might appear, were no match for a ton of horns, hooves, and angry disposition. The wolf pack tried to distract and lure off the large animals, but they weren't distracted, snorting and stomping, quickly reacting to feints by the wolves. It didn't take long for the wolves to give up and leave, while the older bison prodded the wayward calf back to the safety of the herd.

"No, Wihakayda," Tatanka said to me, anticipating my question, "the herd cannot save all of the calves. They are young and weak, and if separated from the herd, they are easy prey for the wolves. It is the way of nature."

I thought about the majestic animals, large and formidable, and the indiscriminate and wholesale slaughter of the late eighteen hundreds, a successful effort to deprive the plains tribes of their primary means of support, and thus coerce them into surrender to a reservation. My stomach turned, and I fought a sudden urge to throw up from the thought of how these majestic animals had been senselessly slaughtered - for no legitimate reason.

"Wihakayda," Tatanka continued, "the fate of the People and the fate of the tatankas are intertwined. If the tatankas do not prosper, the People cannot prosper. Now the white man works to restore herds. It is a slow start, but it is a start." He nudged me gently. "I can tell that you understand how the People felt when the white man destroyed the herds of tatankas, the anguish in their hearts at having the balance of nature upset so stupidly."

"How do I help make it right?" I asked simply. It had to be made right.

I came back to the real world, to where I was petting a real, live bison. He bowed his head toward me again, and then backed slowly away before turning to walk to the rest of the herd.

Debra raced up and clutched me, with Dad right behind her. "Are you crazy?" she demanded.

"Tatanka said he would protect me," I repeated.

"That thing could have easily killed you!" Dad said, half afraid for my safety and half angry at what he considered reckless, foolish behavior on my part.

Debra took my elbow and turned me back toward the van. "That was reckless! Don't you _ever_ do something like that again! You scared me half to death!"

"Tatanka wouldn't have brought the bison to me without a reason," I countered.

Tatanka was suddenly standing before me, startling Dad and Debra. "Wihakayda speaks wisely," he said solemnly in his gruff voice. "She must learn about my kind, because the fate of my kind and the fate of the People are linked."

"That's my _daughter_!" Dad roared. "You can't expose her to danger like that!" In retrospect, it seemed silly that he was arguing with a white buffalo spirit. It was also strange that, after years of thinking of me as his son, he'd so quickly adjusted to the role of protective father doting over a daughter.

"Dad!" I protested. "He's going to teach me this stuff, whether you all like it or not."

"Wihakayda is speaking the truth," Tatanka said, a hint of pride in his voice at my statement. "She is important to the fate of the People. It is important that she learns of the spirit of not only the People, but also of the animals that are part of their natural world."

"Well _I_ don't like you putting her in danger!" Debra huffed.

At the van, Addy, Julie, and Danny scrambled inside, nervous at the presence of the white beast walking with me. Valerie and Mom had experience with Tatanka, so they weren't nearly as uneasy, but I could see Mom glancing around at the wild bison behind us.

I chuckled a bit at their reactions. "Uh, I suppose I should introduce you," I said through the window. "This is Tatanka, my avatar spirit."

Addy stared, wide-eyed, at the white animal, while Julie was almost as white as Tatanka's fur. Danny was trying to look cool and unafraid, but I could tell that he was nervous.

Tatanka nodded. "I know them from your memories." He turned toward Danny. "Your troublesome younger brother, Danny, correct?"

Danny stared at the talking manifestation, and then frowned. "What do you mean, troublesome?"

"Your former girlfriend, Julie, right?" His eyes widened in surprise as he looked at her, with something of a glimmer of recognition in them, like he was seeing something - or someone - he was familiar with, which was impossible, of course.

"Uh," Julie stammered, "you talk?"

"Sometimes, a little too much," I mumbled in Lakota, which got a chuckle from Mom.

Tatanka glared at me for a moment, and then turned back to face Adalie. "And your friend Adalie from Whateley?" He smiled. "Bonjour, mademoiselle. I am pleased to meet a friend of Wihakayda."

Addie's eyes were trying to bulge out of their sockets. "You ... speak French? But 'ow?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "Showoff!" I muttered. "He lives in my head. He knows what I know, and I know at least _that_ much French!"

"We've got an audience," Val said urgently. "A couple of cars are parked a ways back and the occupant have been watching us."

Tatanka vanished immediately. "Oh, shit," I swore softly. I saw the puzzled expression on my Dad's face. "What if they're filming us? They had to have seen Tatanka."

Val concentrated for a moment, and then nodded. "They _are_ filming." She had to have used her magic to determine that, because they were too far away to be certain.

"How much do you think they've seen?" Mom asked, worried. "Maybe they've seen you meeting that real bison?"

"Or manifesting Tatanka." Debra frowned. "We need to get out of here. Now." Julie and Mom looked at her, puzzled. "One thing they really emphasize at Whateley is to never, ever get photographed or filmed if you're doing anything ... with a special power."

* * * * * *

HPARC, Late morning

The tunnels of HPARC were decorated to seem airy and futuristic, and I'm sure Addy would have found them interesting and aesthetically pleasing in a Star Trek way, but there was no mistaking the fact that we were enclosed, and knowing that we were about six thousand feed underground made it seem all the more closed in and claustrophobic. In my head, Tatanka was very uneasy at being this enclosed.

Everyone else was at a restaurant in Deadwood having lunch, while I fulfilled my obligations to HPARC. Actually, they hadn't _demanded_ that I spend time with them that morning, but they _did_ pay a lot for our transportation, so I felt a moral obligation to help them as much as I could. Besides, they specialized in Native American paranormal things, which was getting more and more interesting to me as I learned more and more about Native American culture.

I really wasn't thrilled, though, because they'd been pretty blunt that they wanted me to dissect Snakey. It wasn't that I was afraid of dissecting something; in biology, I'd been perfectly comfortable dissecting things. It was that it was snakey, a demon who'd given me a _lot_ of trouble, trying three times to kill me, and nearly succeeding once. Looking at him through the heavily-warded video monitors gave me chills; I fought the irrational thought that he was going to spring to life and try to kill me once more.

Dressed in a head-to-toe , glyph-covered biohazard suit, looking like an alien invader and monitored remotely through the magically protected cameras, I walked hesitantly - and alone - into a brightly-lit room whose walls were also festooned with glyphs and wards. Even though the walls and floor were cut from the bare rock, they had a very smooth finish, like polished granite. Construction lights on stands glared brightly to illuminate my work - almost too brightly, if you asked me. I'd been in a drama performance the previous year, and those stage lights had nothing on the massive amounts of candlepower pouring into the little polished cavern.

The surgical instruments they provided were unable to cut through Snakey's tough hide, which didn't surprise me. I heard Hazel chuckling through the two-way intercom when I tossed a scalpel aside in disgust and pulled out Wakan Mila. It didn't take long for me to slice open the creature, and then I had to extract organs one by one, photographing each step multiply as I worked. I was sweating profusely inside the suit, made worse by the heat pouring off the multiple lamps, and anxious to get the job done, but I needed to be precise so I didn't ruin whatever data Dr. Schmidt and Hazel could glean from this little exercise. As big as snakey was, dissecting him was hard and very messy work. Instead of blood, his vessels and heart were filled with some kind of black, gooey ichor that stunk to high heaven, even through the sealed suit I wore. I removed, cataloged, and photographed all its internal organs and other interesting body parts, and after what seemed like hours, with pieces of the snake-demon piled on carts and trays, the two scientists were satisfied. I was glad to be done as well; every time I looked at its razor-sharp claws and ugly face, I shuddered inwardly, remembering how dicey my battle with him had been.

I took a deep breath, and then, with Wakan Mila, began one more thing to do. Dr. Schmidt and Hazel were baffled at first, and then became very, very concerned when I explained what I was doing. Over their vehement protests, I completed my task, performed a significant and fatiguing purification ritual, and then carried my prize out of the room, startling those who were there to help me remove the biohazard suit. Even after I explained that the Class X taint was gone, they were still very uneasy. I was pretty pleased with myself; the project I had in mind was going to be SO worth it!

Dad wasn't happy when he had to pay for warper express to deliver my prize to the Dunwich area, but given the package, he was happier to do that than to tote my souvenir around. Fortunately, HPARC had a shower so I could clean off some of the sweat, and Mom got me a change of clothes, sealing my perspiration-soaked clothes in a bag until she'd have a chance to rinse it out. I found out later that she'd just pitched them, as they reeked from sweat and the foul odor of snakey's internal organs. I didn't mind; they weren't my favorite clothes.

* * * * * *

Spearfish Canyon, mid-afternoon

"C'est magnifique!" Addy exclaimed, staring at Roughlock Falls. "In my part of France, we 'ave no such waterfalls as this! Pourquoi are they named as they are?"

Dad smiled; I think his native Dakotan pride was showing through. "When settlers and miners came to this area, to get the wagons down the steep, rocky hills and mountainsides, they had to jam logs into the wheels to 'rough lock' them so the wagons wouldn't roll out of control."

Addy was clearly enjoying this bit of Americana, especially the point about the western settlements; no doubt she had stereotypes of cowboys and Indians, and now she was getting to learn first-hand. "Can we 'ike up closer to the waterfall?" she asked eagerly.

"Of course," Dad answered.

"At least we can spend time outside before we get cooped back up in the van," I said, making the most of a bit of light exercise.

"Or the plane," Debra added with a smile. All of us began to walk up a trail toward the falls, a nice easy walk

"You weren't the one stuck in a tiny cave, sweating in a biosuit," I countered. "I need a little time outdoors."

"But we _do_ have a schedule to keep," Mom interjected. "Your grandmother _did_ say she wants us to be in Mission at seven."

"Why? What has she got cooked up that she's not telling us about?"

Mom chuckled. "She won't tell me either, but if I know Mom, she's probably got a small reception planned. And probably a presentation to the chief or something like that."

"Great," I groaned. "I told her I didn't want to make a big deal out of this."

Debra squeezed my hand. "Do you think she's going to do something ... over the top?"

Mom laughed. "You don't know Mom. Of _course_ she's doing to do something over the top." She glanced at me and smiled. "Remember your twelfth birthday?"

"I'm never going to forget it," I grumbled.

"What happened?" Debra and Valerie immediately asked.

Danny, paying attention to Val, saw a chance to impress her. "Grandma brought the tribal chief, a few warriors, and a shaman to give him a special blessing as a man. It's a Lakota tradition," he added quickly. "At the age of twelve, some tribes consider a boy to be a man, and ready to go on hunts and war parties."

"It was in front of all of my friends," I added at the unpleasant and embarrassing memories.

Mom nodded. "We let ... Brandon ... have a birthday party - out in the garage. We cleaned it up, and put up a few decorations ..."

"It looked like a little kid's party, Mom!"

"And invited his friends. They were dancing and having fun ...."

"And then Grandma burst in with all those elders, and they started making a big fuss over me," I continued. "The shaman did some things with herbs and stuff, and then they put on my first war paint."

"You looked so handsome."

"I looked stupid!"

"War paint?" Adalie asked, eyes wide. "Like you wear sometimes at Whateley?" Her comment caused a few eyes to be cast my way, curious about that little fact that I might have omitted mentioning to anyone.

"Kayda!" Wakan Tanka stood beside me in the woods, speaking urgently and looking around herself. "Something feels wrong."

I frowned. "What do you mean, it feels wrong?" I, too, looked around nervously.

"It is something that I've felt ...."

The hard blow to the side of my head snapped me out of my dream world as I tumbled off the trail. My head felt like it had been half-crushed, and stars swam before my eyes. As I struggled to rise, I thought I saw a booted foot suddenly appear from beside a tree and smash into my shoulder, knocking me back to the ground.

Still dazed, I instinctively cast my shield spell. All of the various assaults and pranks at Whateley had made it an almost reflexive action. My left arm dangled numbly from my aching shoulder, and my vision was a little fuzzy from a probable concussion. I cast a quick healing spell on myself to alleviate the blurry vision and pounding head so I could see what was happening.

Danny and Dad had both taken a pounding from something; Danny was lying on the side of the trail, doubled over in pain, and there was blood on head. Dad was also down, and as I was surveying him for injuries, I saw a glimmer of something beside a tree, and then what looked like an arm with a club swiped down at his leg, hitting and causing him to gasp in pain. Adrenaline took over, and I jumped to his side, bringing my shield around him; I was just in time to intercept a swipe from a club that had been aimed at his head.

Every time Valerie tried to incant something, she was hit or kicked, breaking her concentration, and Debra was getting hit as well. After she'd recovered from the first strike, Addy was moving too quickly to be hit, but I could see the flashing limbs and clubs trying. Even Mom was down, but unlike the others, she wasn't moving.

* * * * * *

End of Chapter 2

Kayda 3 - Two Spirits: Chapter 3 - Zuya Wikhoskalaka

Author:

Elrod

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Whateley Academy by Maggie Finson, et al

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A Whateley Academy Adventure

Kayda 3: Two Spirits

Chapter 3 - Zuya Wikhoskalaka (Warrior Girl)

by ElrodW

Monday, April 9, 2007, afternoon
Spearfish Canyon, South Dakota

As quickly as it had begun, the fight was over. I had Debra and Danny inside my shield, which probably saved their lives based on the number of club and spear attacks that had been directed their way even after I put my magical barrier around them. Addy had been hit once, but had been ducking and dodging like crazy after that blow, and no other attacks had hit her.

Valerie had finally gotten a magic bubble around herself and Dad, and then had moved to encompass Mom with the defensive screen as well. That left only ....

"Julie!" I called out, realizing suddenly that she wasn't with us. I looked around, frantically, and saw that Debra and Addy were likewise searching. "Where is she?"

"I ... don't know," Addy confessed. "I lost track of everything while I was trying to avoid being hit."

Debra nodded. "Me, too."

"Kayda," Dad called sharply. I looked, and saw him kneeling beside Mom.

"Get everyone in a group," Debra said to Val in a commanding voice, "and then get a shield around us all." She turned to me. "Kayda, help your mom."

She didn't have to speak twice. I was at Mom's side in a flash, reaching out magically to sense her energy so I could tell what was wrong with her. It was a healing skill that Wakan Tanka had been teaching me, and it came in handy. I focused on her hip and her skull, both of which were distorting her energy flow.

"She's breathing," Dad said, a tiny bit of relief in his voice. "Did anyone see what happened?"

I frowned as I focused on Mom. "She might have a broken femur," I reported as I ran my hand over her leg, "and I know she's at _least_ got a concussion." I grabbed my medicine pouch and began to mix up some herbs. Danny's water bottle provided me the container I needed. As Danny and Dad watched in amazement, I mixed a potion and incanted over it, releasing my essence to join with that of the plants, until the brew was ready and quite warm.

"Tilt her head up," I ordered Dad.

"We can't move her until we know her neck and spine are okay," Dad protested.

"They're okay, Dad," I retorted firmly. "Lift her head so she can drink this."

Dad looked at me, his eyes full of doubt and fear, and then he glanced at Debra. She just nodded to him, expressing her confidence in me and my magic. With a worried sigh, he rolled her to her back and lifted her head up.

As the cup touched Mom's lips, I poured more of my essence into the brew, feeling it flow into her in the first few drops that touched her lips. She sipped some, and then more, and I could feel her energy increasing. After she drank the liquid, her eyes fluttered open. "Pete?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm here," Dad said to reassure her. His eyes were moist as he fought to not show his worry over his wife.

"What ... what happened?" Mom asked softly. "I ... something hit my leg, and I was falling, and then ... I'm here."

"You fell and hit your head on something on the ground here. As rocky as it is, you're lucky you didn't crack your skull," Debra said. She looked at me, and her eyes widened at the grim expression on my face. "Kayda?" she asked fearfully.

"She did," I replied, trying to keep a neutral expression. "I had to heal a skull fracture and concussion as well as her fractured femur."

Dad's eyes widened in shock at my pronouncement. "What?" he asked, astonished. "And ... you healed her?" I just nodded, feeling a bit fatigued from the drain of my essence. "We have to get her to a doctor!"

"If Kayda says she's healed," Debra replied firmly, "then she's healed. We've got to tend to our other problem first."

"Our other ...." Dad's eyes widened. "Julie?"

"She ... disappeared," Debra said. "Probably during the attack."

"Shit!" Dad swore. He was torn between his responsibility to Julie and his fear for Mom's health.

"Can you carry her to the car?" Debra asked Dad, taking charge of the situation. "And can Danny walk?"

Dad nodded. "I need to help ...."

"You need to get your wife to the car, to relative safety. And Danny, too." She looked around. "Val and I are trained for this. Kayda knows Lakota magic, and she's got a lot more fighting experience than either of you."

"Don't forget me," Addy said, a touch of nervousness in her words. "I know 'ow to fight, too."

Debra looked uncertainly at me, so I nodded. "Her speed might be useful. When they hit us, I saw a limb very briefly just before the impact. With her faster reflexes, she can probably catch whoever attacked us in that moment when they're visible."

"Since Val's got a shield up, I'm going to check with my consultant," I said, and after a momentary quizzical look, she got the gist of my comment and nodded her agreement.

I sat wearily beside the tepee, where Wakan Tanka was working on a hide. "What happened?" I asked.

"Drink," Wakan Tanka said, handing me a gourd cup that had been sitting beside her.

I gulped down the beverage, finding it refreshing and soothing to my bruises and aches. "What ...?"

"Your friend is missing," Wakan Tanka interrupted me.

"Yes. Why would they take her and none of the rest of us?"

"She is a mutant, too?" I nodded. "Tell me what you know of her powers."

"Not a lot," I replied. "They only did quick testing. She has some sensitivity to magic, and an affinity for plants."

"I see."

"And she's a spatial warper."

Wakan Tanka frowned. "What is a warper?"

"She is able to displace her body through space. When she escaped her father, she warped from her bedroom outside her house." I sighed, taking another sip. "And she ended up near a tree - and naked."

"What?" Wakan Tanka practically shrieked. "Say that again." I had never seen her as agitated as she was at that moment.

"She warped to a tree, and her clothes didn't warp with her," I said hesitantly.

"Bring Debra here - immediately."

"She's not ..."

"Do as I say. I'll show you how." She quickly taught me a spell.

"Debra," I said urgently as soon as I popped back into the real world, "I need you to join me in dream-space."

"What? But ...."

I shook my head to cut off her protests. "Wakan Tanka taught me. Here." I incanted and then touched her forehead.

"Wow, this is weird," Debra said, having slipped into dream-space during her waking hours for the first time.

"I need to talk to both of you," Wakan Tanka said urgently, "about your friend."

"What about her?" I asked. Something didn't feel right, and Wakan Tanka was being a little mysterious.

"I fear that she has been taken by the Canotila," Wakan Tanka explained.

"The _what_?" Debra asked.

"Canotila," I offered by way of explanation. "Grandma Little Doe taught me - they're ... North American elves."

"Yes," Wakan Tanka said with a nod. "They are woods elves, at home around trees and forests. That is why the attack took you by surprise. They can hide in a tree."

"Up in the branches?" Debra asked skeptically.

"No. _In_ the tree. When they get next to a tree," Wakan Tanka explained, "they ... blend into the tree. They can hardly be seen, barely even with magic."

"Okay, so we got our asses handed to us by invisible tree elves," Debra commented acerbically.

"And they can ... move ... between trees," Wakan Tanka continued.

"I don't understand." I said, not sure what she meant.

"A Canotila can move his or her body from one tree to another as if by magic."

I looked at Debra, an awful thought forming in my head. "Warpers?"

Debra nodded. "But ... if Julie ...."

"Your friend is Canotila. I am certain of it," my mentor confirmed my speculation. "You told me that she went from a wooden door to a tree, but her clothes did not move with her. Canotila usually wear no clothes, because it would interfere with their camouflage, and most clothing can't move through the trees with them."

"But ... I saw boots!" I protested.

"They sometimes wear crude footwear of woven plants," Wakan Tanka explained, "because plant material _can_ move with them, but most of the time, they wear nothing."

"How the hell can she be Canotila?" I stammered. "She doesn't have any Native American blood in her."

"The Canotila were here long before the People," Wakan Tanka explained. "They are descendants of the few surviving Sidhe who were stranded on this land after the Sundering. They are of different blood than the People."

"But ... how can she be Canotila? She's a mutant, like Debra and me."

"How can you be Ptesanwi?" Wakan Tanka answered my question with a question. "There is something which stirs the spirits. The Canotila are part of the balance of the world, and that balance has been upset. Very badly upset."

"But why would they take Julie?"

"Canotila are very clan-oriented, and rather, how do you say it, racist? They don't like humanity. They barely _tolerate_ the People. I suppose that they thought she was being held by you, so they decided to free her."

"How do we fight them?" Debra asked.

"You must be careful not to further upset the balance," Wakan Tanka warned. "If possible, you must not harm them."

"They tried to kill us," I protested.

"You must not harm them," Wakan Tanka repeated.

Addy and Valerie were staring at us when we popped out of my dream world. "Julie was taken by American wood elves called Canotila. Wakan Tanka thinks that she's become one herself. She said it's important to not harm the Canotila if we can avoid it."

"So 'ow are we supposed to fight them if we cannot see them?" Addy asked.

"Kayda's spirit said that they're invisible near trees, but not away from them. If possible, we have to draw them out," Debra replied, taking charge of the situation since she had the most experience.

"And they can warp between trees, so who knows how far they've gone by now," I added.

Debra shook her head. "If they're warpers, they can't go far without a _lot_ of energy, so it's likely that they haven't gone far. I hope. Plus, I'm guessing that they're territorial, so they'll be near the area. Otherwise, it's not likely that they would have noticed Julie."

"I can try to trace the warping," Val speculated, "if we can figure out where they started from."

"Look for Julie's clothes," I said as the answer popped into my head. "Canotila can't warp clothes when they move through trees. And when Julie warped once before, her clothes didn't go with her."

"But ...I saw them wearing shoes or sandals or something," Addy countered.

I nodded. "Yeah, Wakan Tanka told me they can wear plant material and still move through trees and hide, but most of the time, they're naked." A thought suddenly popped into mind. "Of course! They're like Nikki!"

"What"?" Debra asked, mystified by my outburst.

"One of the students in my cottage - Nikki Reilly. She's Sidhe, and she's allergic to clothes that aren't natural."

Val shook her head. "I don't see what that ...."

"No, maybe you're onto something," Debra said, realizing where I was going. "Wakan Tanka said they're descended from the Sidhe "Maybe they can only wear natural clothes, or plant-based clothes, because the one that kicked me was wearing some kind of boots, too."

I nodded my agreement. "So if Julie's clothes have any non-natural fibers - like most clothing these days ...."

"They wouldn't warp with her," Val concluded.

"It's a theory anyway. I'll take over shielding so you can use your magic to track them," I said to Valerie.

As I'd hoped, Julie's clothes were strewn about the base of a tree as if they'd been dropped from her. After a very brief incantation, Valerie picked up some kind of energy residue, which seemed to point off the trail into the woods. Cautiously, we followed her direction, with me maintaining a shield around the group.

"I think this is where they ended up after the first warp," Valerie noted, pointing to a tree. "But there's another signature, so I suspect they warped again."

"I _hope_ they have a power limit," I groused, "or they'll be able to just jump around us at will, and we'll never catch them."

"The second point is closer," Valerie announced, pointing to an area about thirty yards away. We followed the trail to the second terminus, and then to a third, which was even closer, lending credence to the theory that they had limited power. But we couldn't see them, and if they were hiding in the trees ....

"Let me try something. Val, can you take over the shield?" As soon as she'd done so, I cast my ghost-walking spell. Suddenly, the copse of trees was full of faintly glowing bodies standing against trees. I touched Debra, so she was ghost-walking with me. "See them?"

"No," Debra replied, puzzled.

"There are dozens of them!" I whispered. "Why I can see them and you can't."

"Maybe it's because you're Native American and I'm not."

"Hmmm, maybe," I speculated. "Now we need to catch one to lure out the others."

"How?"

"I wonder if they can see ghost-walking." She worried her lip a bit. "Can you cast a shield spell while you're ghost-walking?"

I winced. "I've never done that before. I don't think so. Why?"

"I was hoping you could. You could wander toward one of them, and see if they flinch and either attack you or run away. If they can't see you, they couldn't do anything."

"But if they can see me, they could attack me," I finished for her.

"Yeah." She frowned.

"Addy." I said suddenly.

"Addy? What about her?"

"She's a speedster. If she could ghost-walk, then she could probably grab one before they could react."

"That could be dangerous to her. She's not a brick. If they move quicker than we think, she could be in real danger."

I frowned. "Yeah, I hadn't thought of that."

"What if you move toward and past one to try to force it to act, and as soon as Addy sees it moving, she can perform a surprise attack," Val suggested.

"It's worth a try." We quickly briefed the girls on the plan, and I cast a ghost-walking spell on Addy.

Still ghost-walking, shadowed closely by Addy who was also ghost-walking, I moved toward the nearest Canotila. It quickly became evident that the elf couldn't see me. She - for it appeared as I'd studied them that _all_ of them were female - stood unmoving by the tree, a spear in her hand, watching Debra and Valerie. I noted that the weapon was a pointed shaft with no metal or stone point; this lent credence to our working postulate that they could only hide plant matter. On the other hand, a sharpened stick could still do a lot of damage.

When I was only a couple feet from her, staring directly at the spot she hid, I dropped my ghost-walking, startling the Canotila. She reacted just as Debra and I had hoped; worried that she'd been discovered, she swung the spear like a bo-staff to club me.

The spear shaft bounced off my shield, which I'd raised at the same time I'd dropped my ghost-walking. In the moment she was visible, Addy side-kicked her away from the tree so she wouldn't be able to hide against the tree. A follow-up foot sweep knocked her down, and Addy planted a foot in her armpit while she grasped the Canotila's arm, locking her in a painful and nearly immobile position. The elf-woman wasn't done fighting, though; in a feat of incredibly flexibility, she managed to cock a foot around and kick Addy, which caused her to lose her grip on the elf-woman. But before the Canotila could spring to her feet, though, Addy reacted, tackling the she-elf face-down into the earth and getting her arm wrenched painfully behind her back, so the elf-woman was helplessly immobilized.

No sooner had Addy attacked than Debra and Valerie rushed to my side, and I extended my shield around the four girls and the captive Canotila elf. In seconds, we were surrounded by at least two dozen nude, female elves, all brandishing clubs, spears, and bows. Wooden arrows and spears bounced off my shield, which evoked howls of anger and protest from the elf women.

"Okay, we found them. Now what?" Val asked caustically. "You don't suppose they speak English, do you?"

"I doubt it," Debra snorted.

"Some'ow, I doubt they speak French, either," Addy added with an ironic chuckle.

"Sisters of the forest," I addressed them in Lakota. "Do you understand me?"

One of the women, a tall, statuesque, raven-haired woman with a commanding air about her, stepped forward. "Release our sister," she ordered imperiously.

"Release _our_ friend who you have taken from us," I demanded in return.

"We will not let you take one of our sisters from us, even if she is of another clan," the woman countered sternly.

"Are you the leader of this clan?" I asked, trying to not sound too demanding.

"Release our sister," the woman repeated, ignoring my question.

"This is getting nowhere," I grumbled to Debra. "She isn't listening."

"Show _her_," Debra replied.

"What?!"

"Show Ptesanwi. And hope that they recognize her," Debra explained.

I thought a moment whether that would be a good idea or not, and then I consciously willed Ptesanwi to show herself through me. The Canotila collectively gasped, stepping back a couple of steps and looking fearfully at me.

"We would speak with you," we said, our voice echoing unnaturally. "But first we want your oath, on the very roots of the sacred trees, that you will give us the right of truce until we depart this area."

"Why should we trust you? You conspired with those of pale skins to ravage the land, to destroy what is natural. It was the pale-skins who you let into the forests, to destroy not only the trees, but also to despoil the sacred trees, until they withered and died. What reason can you give that would earn our trust?" As the leader spoke, restless murmuring coursed through the ranks of the Canotila.

We frowned. "The People were deceived by the pale-skins, just as you were. They brought disease and destruction to the People. After pushing the People from their lands, they gave the People these lands where they could live in balance with you and nature. But the pale-skins found the yellow metal, and they broke their oaths and pushed the People from this land also."

"So you claim, but you offer no proof of your intentions. We will not give you the right of truce. We can wait here longer than you. We outnumber you. We will not be pushed from our land, nor will we surrender the sister who you captured."

We sighed. "We've got a standoff," we informed the others. "They think they can wait us out, and I'm afraid they're right."

"Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka commanded after snapping me into my dream-world, "repeat my incantation, stretching your hands to the skies."

"What? What is it?"

"Just do it. And quickly. Before you run out of essence for your shield spell."

Following Wakan Tanka's direction, we incanted, our arms upstretched. Immediately, a cloud formed, thick and gray, blotting out the sun, and it began to descend slowly like a fog into the treetops.

The effect on the Canotila was electric; they looked fearfully to the descending fog, eyes wide with terror. One of them rushed to the side of the leader, arguing in a language which we didn't understand. We understood the gist of the argument from the way the second woman gestured at the descending fog, however; clearly, she was pleading with the first to relent, likely arguing that the leader's stubbornness was going to destroy the entire clan.

The elf leader glared at us for a while. Finally she nodded. "You have our word, on the roots of the sacred tree, that we will do you no harm."

We nodded our acceptance of her oath, and then, incanting quickly in another spell guided by Wakan Tanka, we caused the fog to dissipate. Sighs of relief rippled through the Canotila. They lowered their weapons, and as a gesture of good faith, we dropped our shield. "Release the girl," we ordered Adalie.

Nervously, Adalie glanced at Debra for reassurance, and on receiving a nod of assent, she released the elf-woman, helping her to her feet.

"The sister you took from us was human, but recently changed into one of you," we explained, causing murmurs of shock and disbelief to circulate through the Canotila women. "Speak to her. She does not understand your tongue." Once more, murmurs went through the women, and a couple of them tested Julie, who was being held a few yards behind the circle of elf-women. Eventually, word passed to the leader, who listened in shocked disbelief.

"She doesn't understand our tongue, as you said," she declared, astonished.

I let Ptesanwi de-manifest. "We were protecting her from those who would harm her," I explained. "She came to my parents for help." I glanced at the others. "I explained that Julie was human, but changed, and that we were protecting her from people who meant her harm."

"What do you intend to do with our sister?" the leader asked.

"Protect her, and teach her how to use her powers. And then she will decide what she will do with her life."

The leader frowned, pondering my words, and then she turned toward the two with Julie, saying words in the Canotila tongue that I didn't understand. The two brought Julie to our circle. "If you weren't Ptesanwi, we wouldn't trust you," she said with a frown. "She should learn our ways."

"What did she say?" Julie asked, baffled and frightened by this whole experience.

"She is apparently releasing you to us," I answered, "although they're not happy. You are one of them, a Canotila. It is a North American elf."

"But ... how? I'm ... human!" she protested.

"And I wasn't fully Lakota, nor was I a woman," I replied. "Mutation does strange things to people."

"Am I really like them?" Julie asked, staring at the bevy of gorgeous naked women standing among the trees.

I chuckled. "In more ways than you realize." I looked up and down her nude body appreciatively. She noticed the look I was giving her and blushed. Debra noticed too, and _she_ frowned at me.

"Maybe ...," she began hesitantly, "I should spend time with them ... to learn how to use my powers and stuff?"

My jaw dropped. "But ... they tried to kidnap you! You don't even know them!"

Julie winced. "I know. But ... I feel pulled to them. Like I'm supposed to be with them."

"Go in peace. We hold you responsible for the safety of our sister," the leader said.

"She is called Julie. She asked if it would be wise to spend some time among you. Perhaps during a break in her schooling," I said to the leader.

She goggled at my suggestion. "Julie is a strange name. It doesn't sound like one of our names or our tongue." She grinned broadly. "Julie is welcome among us any time she wishes." Suddenly, she glanced around nervously, and then she and the whole group blended into the trees.

I felt prickling on the nape of my neck. "Something spooked them," I snapped to Debra." I snapped off a ghost-walking spell, and immediately spotted the unmistakable glow of a Canotila crouching beside a tree. I walked to her. "What's wrong?"

"Someone watches us," the elf-woman replied nervously. "It happens too frequently. We can find no peace," she added, grumbling.

I walked to Debra and the girls and shed my spell. "They were frightened by someone watching us. Val, can you locate them?"

She nodded, and then concentrated. "That way," she reported after a moment. "About forty yards."

I nodded, and Debra touched my arm. "What are you going to do?" Give her credit - she knew me well from all the time we'd spent in my dream-world.

"I'm going to see if they're filming, and if so, try to ... disrupt ... their cameras." I saw her wrinkle her brow. "We have to. If evidence gets out of the Canotila, they'll be in danger."

"To say nothing of you," Val added needlessly.

I nodded my agreement, and then cast another ghost-walking spell. For some reason, it seemed that I had an abundance of essence in the Black Hills. I realized that they really were special to the Lakota shamans.

Moving quickly, I threaded my way through the trees until I saw the people who'd been watching us. As I'd expected, they _did_ have a camcorder, and one held it to his eye as he continued to film.

I thought a moment. There were three guys - and they were probably more interested in the nude girls than in anything else, but I wasn't about to take a chance. But they were positioned so that I couldn't get to the camera without the other two seeing me, and to do anything, I'd have to drop my ghost-walking, at least for a moment. But then I had an inspiration. I picked up a small rock, and moving into position, I tossed it over their heads to land in the brush. As expected, the guys all turned toward the sudden noise.

As I dropped the ghost-walking spell, smiling to myself, I released a simple spell that Clover had taught me as part of our bargain - a simple shock spell, and as I did so, it suddenly occurred to me that if I upped the amperage, it would overheat the tape - _if_ it was a tape-based recorder - thus erasing the magnetic domains, if not fusing the polymer ribbon into a hopeless mess. I could almost feel the crackle of electricity coursing through the video recorder's delicate electronics, turning the various chips into worthless lumps of silicon as I let loose the massive electric shock. I hoped it was enough.

No sooner had I released the shock than I invoked my ghost-walking spell again and backed away from the trio of boys.

One of them must have thought he saw something from the corner of his eye, because he was looking around suspiciously, but he must have convinced himself that he was imagining things. It only took seconds for the camcorder operator to realize that something was wrong with his machine, and I had to keep from giggling as he tried everything he could think of to get it working again.

I walked stealthily back to the girls, where I found a red-faced Julie pulling on her clothes. "I think we're good," I reported as I shed my ghost-walking spell.

"Even if you fried the camera, the tape might have survived, or it might be one of the new disk-based recorders, and they _will_ talk. We probably should get going pronto," Debra advised.

As soon as we were in the van, I slipped into my dream-space. I had more questions than answers, and I needed to consult with Wakan Tanka.

"That spell you had me do - was that the cloud that legends speak of?" I asked fearfully.

Wakan Tanka laughed. "No. It was just a spell to summon a fog. It is useful to call the clouds to hide from an enemy. It is _also_ useful to frighten those who know of the legend of Ptesanwi."

"So we were bluffing?"

Wakan Tanka nodded, smiling. "Yes. The Canotila are very - what is your word? Superstitious. Because they are connected to nature, they are easily frightened by those who can manipulate the waters and the skies." Her features grew serious. "I would _never_ have you call down the cloud of death on a trivial matter like that. It is far too dangerous, and you do not yet know enough to control it."

The drive through Spearfish Canyon to the airport should have been very scenic, but we were rather subdued because of our battle with the Canotila and Mom's injuries, even though I'd healed them. Plus, knowing now that Julie was Canotila gave her - and me - something to think about. We were all very glad when the plane took off, because it meant we were relatively safe.

* * * * * * * * * *

Monday, April 9, 2007, evening>
Rosebud Indian Reservation, South Dakota

I expected a relatively low-key reception when we landed at Mission's tiny airport. Perhaps the tribal chief would come out with Grandma, perhaps with a friend or two to, as Grandma put it, 'meet the newest tribal member'. I wasn't in the front of the plane, so the group of us girls tried to peer through the windows. "Oh, crap," I groaned loudly upon seeing the crowd that was assembled, as if to greet the country's president.

"Why are they all 'ere?" Addy asked, staring awe-struck at the dancers and drummers who were attired in Lakota costumes. One man stood nearer the plane, with a retinue; he wore a war bonnet to symbolize his position as chief, and his clothing, while somewhat western, had a very distinctive Lakota theme.

"Oh, God, no!" I moaned, sinking into my seat as I looked more closely at the people with the Chief. There were two men in traditional shaman's costumes, and with them stood Grandma Little Doe, similarly attired.

Mom looked back from the steps. "Come on, Kayda," she urged. "They're waiting for you."

"Mom!" I protested, "I don't wanna!"

"Kayda, I'm sure Mom went to a lot of trouble to arrange a welcome for you. It's very special for her, and for you," my mom scolded me gently.

"You mean embarrassing for me!"

Debra clutched my hand. "It'll be okay," she reassured me.

"Look at them!" I protested. "Grandma _told_ them! They're not here for me; they're here for some kind of pop icon!"

"Kayda, come on. It's rude to keep them all waiting." Mom wasn't going to let me out of this very public and exuberant gathering.

Sighing, I started to get up out of my seat, and then I had a particularly mischievous thought. My expression must have given something away, because Debra stopped, looking straight at me. "What are you planning?" she practically demanded, interrupting the spell I was starting to cast.

Mom heard, and she glared at me. "And none of your invisibility stuff, either!" she said firmly.

"How does she do that?" I grumbled. She had guessed _exactly_ what I was planning.

Debra chuckled. "She's a mother. Mothers know what their children are scheming about."

As we crept down the low-ceilinged aisle, the sound of chanting and drumming got louder and louder, filling me with more and more dread. I didn't _want_ to be a celebrity or shaman or anything special. I just wanted to be a normal girl ....

The thought hit me like a two-by-four. I wanted to be a normal _girl_. I hadn't had such thoughts before; I'd just wanted to be left alone by people and creatures, not being attacked, or insulted or made fun of, or having to fight every time I turned around. I realized I had _never_ considered wanting anything related to my gender. But now? I'd admitted to myself that I _wanted_ to be a girl. Not only was I rapidly getting used to the idea, but I realized with a start that I _liked_ being a girl.

I must have stumbled or halted momentarily while considering that, because Debra clutched my hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Something just occurred to me. I'll tell you later."

No sooner had I stepped from the plane than the drumming and chanting increased in volume, while the crowd roared enthusiastically. "This is fucking embarrassing," I muttered to Debra.

"Just keep smiling, hon," she whispered in my ear to encourage me.

Debra kept back a few steps, with Adalie, Julie, and Valerie, while my family and I walked stiffly toward the chief, or the man I assumed to be the chief because of the head-dress.

Two warriors hunted buffalo one day
A white buffalo calf suddenly appeared
She changed into a beautiful young woman
The White Buffalo Calf Woman

I started as I recognized the words in Lakota; though I'd never heard this particular chant before, there was no mistaking that they were singing of the legend of the White Buffalo Calf Woman. Shuddering, I stepped toward the one I figured was the chief.

A cloud came over the foolish one
The one who lusted after the woman
When the cloud lifted, all that was left
Were the bones of the disgraced warrior

The chief bowed deeply to me, adding to my considerable embarrassment, while all the shamans, Grandmother included, knelt. "Please rise," I practically begged, feeling my cheeks burning at the spectacle. "I'm _just_ one of the People."

The White Buffalo Calf Woman returned as promised
Coming from the clouds as a white buffalo calf
Bringing with her the sacred bundle
Teaching the tribe the sacred ways
Teaching the songs and dances and rituals
Teaching the People the way of balance and harmony
Promising to return to bring prosperity
At the sign of the sacred white buffalo calf.

The drumming and chanting ended abruptly at the conclusion of the tale. "You honor us with your presence, Ptesanwi," the chief said as he stepped forward, his voice cracking with emotion at what was for him and the others a spiritual moment.

Grandma Little Doe rose and stepped to my side, signaling that Mom should take a place at my other side. "I present my granddaughter," she said formally and loudly so that all would hear. "Kayda Franks, now a full member of the Sicangu tribe." The crowd cheered their approval, but Grandma wasn't done. "Kayda holds the spirit of tatanka ska, the white buffalo."

A strange hush fell over the crowd, which made me feel even more conspicuous. As I looked around, I saw eyes filled with awe and reverence at her pronouncement.

"And she holds the spirit of Ptesanwi," she said proudly. The crowd gasped, and I feared they were going to fall to their knees worshipping me.

One of the other shamans stepped to me, halting an arms' length away. He raised his arms and placed them on my shoulders, looking deeply into my eyes. It was unnerving, but with Mom at my side, I managed to not freak out. Tilting his head back, he chanted, and I recognized some of the words and phrases.

"Wakan Tanka," I asked, sitting beside my tutor at the fire circle, "what magic is he calling?"

"He is using the spell of discerning," she replied easily. "He is looking into your heart to see your spirit, to know if you truly _are_ the Ptesanwi."

"What do I do?" I asked, frightened by this entire greeting. I didn't want to be treated like a rock star.

"Show Tatanka. Show your knife. _Be_ Ptesanwi."

"That'll just make it worse! I don't _want_ them to worship me!"

Wakan Tanka looked at me sadly. "You are the Ptesanwi. You are important to the People. They cannot help celebrating your presence. Do not deny them the joy of seeing the Ptesanwi."

The shaman's eyes widened as the magic touched me. "You truly _are_ the Ptesanwi!" he declared in astonishment.

Oh, shit. The People expected to see a goddess or something, and I couldn't say that I blamed them, given the misery and poverty in which they lived, but I wasn't sure I liked the idea of being treated like a deity.

We went through introductions, which became extremely formal after the shaman's pronunciation; I was surprised that Grandma was introduced as also being a shaman, and that a retired chief named Dan Bear Claw seemed to have a knowing look in his eyes as I shook hands with him. In turn, I introduced my family and my friends.

In the town's high-school gym was a major celebration feast. Many of the dishes served were traditional, including a few kinds of buffalo meat dishes, Indian tacos on fry bread, as well as more dishes that were more typical of pot-luck dinners. To my surprise and delight, they served Wojapi on fry bread, and I instantly recognized the distinctive taste of chokecherries in the jam-like spread. I don't think Debra noticed much of the unique and delightful flavors because of the way she was shoveling in the food, but everyone else in our group seemed to really like the dishes. We were entertained with more drumming and dancing, and a number of people showed off their Lakota crafts and projects, many of which were presented to me as gifts, both for being a new member of the tribe and also for being both a shaman and the Ptesanwi. Adalie was quite fascinated by the native garb and drumming, and she probably took a hundred pictures with her cell phone.

At a brief respite from the introductions and chatting with the people, I had a moment for an aside with Grandma. "I'm glad the People aren't treating me like I'm some kind of deity. I was afraid that they were going to, I don't know, worship me or something. I don't want that kind of attention!"

"Our ways are more polite than that. If you aren't going to talk about the Ptesanwi, they won't embarrass you by raising that topic." She smiled. "Did it not occur to you why so many mothers are introducing their sons to you?"

"What?" I stammered, shocked and barely able to keep my jaw off the floor.

Grandma chuckled. "If you _were_ looking for a boyfriend, they would want you to select their sons. And can you blame them? It would mean a great blessing on the household who Ptesanwi marries into."

I groaned at the awful news. What a horrid thought - a lot of Lakota mothers hoping to play matchmaker to marry a deity into the family. It was time to change the subject. "I think Julie and Adalie are enjoying the attention they're getting."

"Why not? They are beautiful girls. And it seems that Julie enjoys flirting."

Grandma was interrupted when a woman came to us. "Hi," she said after I turned to look at her, bowing her head slightly toward me as a sign of respect. "I'm Martha Stillwater."

"Hi," I answered, smiling and hoping it didn't appear as a pasted-on beauty-pageant false smile. I _was_ enjoying the celebration, even if it seemed to be going overboard.

After a little small-talk, Martha leaned closer to me. "You are two-spirits, aren't you?" she whispered to me.

I felt my eyes bulging in surprise. "Uh ...." I stammered, not knowing how to answer.

"It's okay," she said, smiling. "I'm also two-spirits. I recognize that within you, and in my dreams last night, I was told a new girl would come, a two-spirits who holds a very important spirit." She watched for my reaction, a knowing glint in her eye. "I know how hard it can be in the world with blatant hatred of two-spirits, and that our old beliefs of two-spirits have been corrupted by the white religion."

"I ... I guess," I stammered, deciding to admit the truth to this sympathetic woman. "Yes. Yes, I am two-spirits." I was amazed at how casually and confidently Martha was speaking of being two-spirits, and of me being the same. It seemed to cause her no shame, but rather, pride.

Martha smiled. "That makes you even more special to the People. At least to those who hold onto and cherish our old beliefs." She glanced around furtively. "You must be careful who you tell, though. It can be very dangerous, especially outside."

Feeling a sigh of relief at her understanding, I was about to reply when two girls pranced up to me, dressed in traditional dance costumes. They had high white moccasins with bells, trimmed in frill, and white leather dresses adorned with beads and shells, also trimmed with lots of frill. Their headbands were works of art, completely covered in intricate and beautiful beadwork, but without the feathers that so many people erroneously thought were typical of all Native American headgear.

The girls took my hands. "Come," they said, giggling. "We want you to dance with us."

Martha smiled. "We'll talk more later."

My protests notwithstanding, the girls tugged me - and my friends - into a locker room, where they had dance costumes for us. With unwavering determination, they helped us all dress and then led us back into the gym. Everyone gathered into a huge circle, and as the drums started beating, the girls led us through some basic dance steps, giggling merrily at our missteps and errors. Of the bunch of us, I think Addy was enjoying herself the most, although I had to admit that it was very delightful to see Debra in such a fetching outfit. Based on the way she was eyeing me, I'd have to guess that she shared that opinion of me.

After dancing, we all went back to the locker room to change back, and we got another surprise - one of the older women who was probably the dancers' coach or leader told us that the outfits were ours to keep. I objected strongly, but she would have none of it. Even though Julie, Valerie, Addy, and Debra weren't Lakota, as my friends, they were considered members of my Tiyospayi, my 'extended family', and were thus deserving of as much hospitality as the tribe was showing me - which included gifts.

After a while, Tatanka's spirit became a bit restless and wanted some of fresh air, so I slipped outside. It was a beautiful evening - a bit crisp since winter had only recently released its hold on the land, and summer hadn't brought its sometimes-oppressive heat that lasted well into the evenings. Unlike many people, I actually preferred cool evenings. I stood outside the building, relishing in the brisk air, since the inside of the gym was quite warm from all the people at the celebration. As I stood silently, I heard someone approaching from around the corner of the building. Almost immediately, I recognized the voice as belonging to Dan Bear Claws, the former chief. There was something about him that made me uncomfortable, though I couldn't put my finger on it. He'd given me the willies when I was introduced to him at the airport and again when he spoke with me at the celebration. I guessed, from the way he spoke, that he was probably using a cell phone.

"She's here, and she seems to be enjoying herself. And the People like her."

His words increased my curiosity, but something also aroused my suspicion that he was talking about _me_. Curious and now wary, I cast a ghost-walking spell to hide and find out more, even though I knew it was wrong and impolite to listen in. I was right about the voice; it _was_ Chief Dan. After trudging slowly a few yards, his phone to his ear, he turned back the way he'd come, pacing with a slight limp as he talked and listened, avoiding the doors into the gym and lighted areas. It all seemed too clandestine and sneaky.

"No, that won't work."

I wondered _what_ he thought wouldn't work.

"Look, I'm not paying you to think. I'm paying you for results. Just do what I said." He was quite agitated by whatever the person on the other end of the call was saying.

"Any information about the other actor?"

His face wrinkled into a deep scowl as he heard the answer. "Well, find out! And stop them, however you have to do it."

He listened another few seconds. "Before you do anything too drastic, though, I want to know who they're working for and why."

He clearly didn't like the answer. "Of course my employer will want to know who! Just do the job you're being paid for! Now don't contact me again. I'll call you. It's less risky." He angrily clicked off his cell phone, stuffed it back in his pocket, and walked back into the gym, leaving me standing by a corner.

I stood, puzzled. His very first statement sounded like he was talking about me. Then again, both Mom and Grandma were associated with the tribe, they weren't normally here, and they were enjoying the soiree which had apparently gathered tribal members from all over, some traveling over two hundred miles to be here. It _could_ have been someone else he was talking about. The rest of his end of the conversation sounded like some kind of conspiracy, and that part made no sense. If he _had_ been talking about me, then it meant some kind of plot, which would have had to include someone at Whateley. Someone hostile to me. Someone who .... My mouth dropped open as realization dawned. Someone who didn't like me and was trying to sabotage me. Wind Runner. It _had_ to be her. On the night I'd been elected head of the group, she'd made it more than clear that she thought me a usurper of _her_ position, and really disliked my ideas for the group. And she was a wizard, so she could have easily used magic for some of the harassment I'd been the victim of. But was she so nasty that she'd do something like harassing me? Moreover, she was Navajo, and I was Lakota; there was no enmity between our tribes; in fact, there was little contact of any kind. But she had the motive and skills.

I shook my head to clear those thoughts. After all the incidents I'd had in my first month, I was probably just being paranoid. There weren't any new students at Whateley since I'd arrived. Someone would have had to know that I was going to manifest and go there in time to place an operative, which was ridiculous! And Wind Runner was a junior. It would have been impossible for someone to know, that far in advance, that I was going to mutate, become the Ptesanwi, and go to Whateley. I _had_ to be reacting from paranoia.

"You are troubled, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said as we walked through a meadow in the mountains of the Black Hills. "What is on your mind?"

"I'm ... not sure," I replied. "Things don't make sense." I paused, watching sitehaska, a deer, walking alertly through the trees at the edge of the meadow. Overhead, cetan circled lazily on the air currents, carried effortlessly by the rivers of the air spirit.

"You're not sure if you should trust Chief Bear Claws or not, right?" Wakan Tanka asked with certainty.

I started to gasp in astonishment that she'd guessed, but then I remembered who - and what - was dwelling in me. "Yeah," I answered. "He seems kind of ... creepy, and suspicious. I didn't think the People acted like that."

"Some do," Wakan Tanka replied sadly. "Not all follow the traditions and rules. Why do you think the People have the Akicita?"

I nodded slowly. If everyone in a tribe were well behaved, there would be no need for the akicita, the tribal police, to keep the rules and traditions and customs.

"Be as cautious as your inner soul tells you, but be careful to not break our cultural traditions. Extend trust to others until you know if they are worthy of trust or not. But do not be naive or foolish."

I thought a moment. "Am I being too suspicious?"

"It is wise to be wary, but you can't let that caution force you to violate our customs. People expect you to diligently adhere to those traditions, since you are the Ptesanwi."

I stood for a few seconds, reflecting on what Wakan Tanka had told me. She had pretty bluntly reminded me that I was obligated to observe the cultural traditions of the Lakota people, especially with my unexpected role as Ptesanwi, and being suspicious without reason was counter to that culture.

Back inside, a few people seemed puzzled at where I'd gone, so I explained part of the truth - that my bison spirit needed to be outdoors occasionally. This seemed to satisfy most of the people, and we all resumed the festivities.

Even though it was getting late, almost no-one left. The celebration was quite enjoyable, and everyone seemed to want to meet me and chat, as if that alone would get them some special favor or blessing - although no-one was so boorish as to actually request such things. About eleven-thirty, though, Mom and Dad summoned all of us to meet with the chief again. Dad asked about hotels, and the chief actually laughed at that idea. He was adamant that it wouldn't be proper to make Dad pay for lodging. Besides, the nearest hotel was over twenty miles away. Mission wasn't big enough to have a hotel. We were guests, after all, and it was in keeping with the Lakota traditional hospitality. When Dad pressed the issue, the chief said that we would be staying with families of good repute, members of the akicita and winyan akicita - the tribal police.

Dad was nervous about that idea to the very end, but it was his Western culture and its suspicious nature, whereas Grandma and Mom were perfectly fine with the lodging arrangements. Mom, Dad, and Danny went with one family. Val and Debra went with Martha Stillwater, which left Julie, Addy, and me to go with a third family.

Our host family insisted that the three of us girls sleep on their king-sized bed, and they would take a fold-out sofa. I still protested at putting them out, and I could tell that Addy and Julie were nervous because teenage and older girls in America didn't share a bed. It just wasn't normal. Wakan Tanka assured me, in a quick dream-space consultation, that there was nothing sexual about girls sharing a bed, but that it was traditional for same-gendered children in a family to bed together. In the old days, it was a way to share body warmth during bitterly-cold winters, she explained. It took a bit to convince Addy and Julie, but eventually they acquiesced - mostly because they were too exhausted to protest much.

Before I went to bed, though, there was something I really needed to do, so the mother walked me over to Martha Stillwater's house. Martha assured our host that she'd walk me back, so my host mother returned to her home. Val joined us in Martha's living room, because she didn't tired and needed time to wind down.

"In traditional culture," Martha explained, sharing some of the herbal tea I'd brewed for us, "two-spirits were honored. Being two-spirits was considered special." She smiled. "I can tell that you two are two-spirits."

"Oh?" I was surprised; I thought I was hiding my two-spirits nature.

"As I said, I was visited in my dream."

I frowned. "Wakan Tanka," I grumbled.

"What?" Martha seemed startled that I would think the Great Spirit would have visited her dream. That _didn't_ happen to normal people, and _rarely_ would a shaman be visited by the Great Spirit.

I glanced at Debra, who nodded at me. "It would be like her," she said.

"Wakan Tanka has been ... trying to educate me about my two-spirits nature," I explained. "It'd be just like her to visit a two-spirits here so I could hear some first-hand experience."

Martha nodded, struggling not to show her awe at being in the presence of Ptesanwi, the prophetess of Wakan Tanka. "Then I suppose we should talk about being two-spirits." She put on a smile. "You seem ... nervous about the subject."

"Well, yeah," Debra answered. "It's ... not exactly welcome in the world to be lesbian or gay in the world."

"In the white man's world," Martha corrected her. "In our traditional culture, two-spirits were like ... a third and fourth sexuality. It was considered normal, not deviant. A two-spirits woman might be a warrior. She might take a wife. A two-spirits man might have a husband. He might be a nanny, or a healer, or a dream interpreter." She paused a moment. "Have you seen the movie Little Big Man?"

Debra, Val, and I exchanged confused glances. "Yes," I answered.

"Do you remember the character Little Horse?"

I shook my head. "No."

"He was winkte, a two-spirits man. He was portrayed as an obviously feminine man, and surprisingly, the movie portrayed his role very well. He was not shunned, but was accepted as perfectly normal." She put her hand on mine. "In my dream, I was told that you were having difficulty being two-spirits. You must embrace your culture, your two-spirit nature."

"How? I'd have to turn my back on part of my heritage and life. That's asking a lot."

Martha shook her head. "No," she chided me. "You won't be turning your back on your white culture. You'll be adding to your heritage with the Lakota - and two-spirits - culture."

"But that's a paradox," Debra said, frowning. "Lakota culture accepts two-spirits; the broader American culture doesn't. Those are conflicting views. How does one balance them?"

Martha chuckled. "It's not easy. I was shunned by some of the tribe, and some of my own family, because the priests have undermined our culture with the white beliefs of homosexuality. It was far worse when I lived off the reservation. I'm a registered nurse." She smiled. "I had a good job in a hospital, and I loved caring for the ill and injured." A sadness crept into her eyes and voice. "But, as you know, the white culture really frowned on the fact that I'm a lesbian."

"That's an understatement," Debra said gruffly.

"I was blatantly discriminated against," Martha continued. "Hostility surrounded me, because I was what the culture hated - a lesbian in a straight world."

Debra and I sat, hand-in-hand, enraptured, because Martha's tale might be a prediction of our future.

"I came home, finally," Martha said. "Back to the reservation. Even though there was hostility here, it would be less than in the outside world. The People are learning of their heritage. It's a cultural renaissance, a search for the old traditional values that had served the People for so long - before the white men crowded us onto the reservation and tried to destroy our culture, our way of life." Surprisingly, she didn't sound bitter, like some Native Americans I knew.

"With that cultural awakening, People have begun to search for the old ways and values, and in that, I'm not only a highly-valued nurse, but also an example of two-spirits."

"That's got to be tough," Val observed.

Martha nodded. "It's not easy. Some resist the old ways, especially about two-spirits, because they're too ingrained with the western beliefs the priests teach. But I have a duty to my culture and values to teach others, so our way of life and our culture are not forgotten."

"So you're kind of like Rosa Parks of two-spirits on the reservation," Debra observed, which elicited a smile from Martha.

"I wouldn't go _that_ far," she said.

We talked for almost an hour and a half. Martha had once had a wife on the reservation - unofficially, of course, since the Catholic Church would _never_ recognize it, but her wife had passed on years earlier. She had a son and three grandchildren who lived in Rapid City, but her son wasn't close, as he'd become too judgmental of Martha's two-spirits nature. "Someday," she said with a sad smile, "he'll come back to our values and traditions."

"You hope," Val suggested.

Martha nodded. "Yes, I hope. In the meantime, I continue to love him as a parent would love a child."

Debra walked me back to the house I was staying in, rather than Martha. It gave us a chance to be alone together, which we both appreciated. Martha had given us a lot to think about; could _we_ be as brave as she was? Could we stand proudly with our beliefs in a hostile world? Could we work, in the face of oppression, to expand understanding toward two-spirits in our own culture, as she had in hers? I think I was a little more naive than Debra about the challenges; I felt fearless as long as she was by my side, whereas Debra was a bit more pragmatic. We shared a prolonged good-night hug and kiss, and then sadly, I had to watch her walk back to Martha's house.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kayda's Dream Space

My dream space should have been relaxing and comforting, a time for special closeness with my beloved,, but Wakan Tanka had instead insisted on teaching me new spells. What was worse was that rather than teach me directly, she was pushing me to figure out how to combine the ghost-walking and shield spells by myself.

Debra rubbed my shoulders to try to erase some of my tension and frustration; Wakan Tanka was being a demanding tutor - even more-so than normal.

"They don't fit together," I snapped in frustration, shaking my head.

"They can, if you look for the common elements and weave them together," Wakan Tanka chided me.

"Why don't you just teach me the spell?" I demanded.

Debra leaned her head onto my shoulder. "If you give a man a fish, he has a meal. If you teach a man to fish ...."

"He never goes hungry," I finished the adage.

"Debra speaks wisely, and you know it. You _know_ the saying. You know it to be true."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I know. But it's so ... unintuitive. It's hard."

Debra chuckled, still rubbing my shoulders. "If it was easy, anyone could do it." She leaned on my shoulder again. "The sooner you figure it out," she whispered, "the sooner we can ... play." She nibbled on my ear to tease me with promises of things to come - after I finished the task that Wakan Tanka had set me to.

I turned, and saw the sparkle of confidence in her eyes. "Okay," I said, forcing a smile, and then turning back to the bare earth in front of me, on which I'd been scratching spell diagrams.

It took another half hour - but it seemed longer - before I realized the commonality between ghost walking and shielding. Both wrapped the person in a shell, even though the shells had different purposes. From there, using the different levels of shield spells, I was able to tease out the part that strengthened the shell against physical attack. Then I unlocked the piece of the ghost-walking spell that strengthened the shell against light, so that most light bent around the shield to emerge on the other side.

"Good," Wakan Tanka said as I finished separating the pieces. "Now map how they work together, how you will make your essence flow into the parts of the new spell."

I puzzled and tried, but couldn't get the flow right in my head. It didn't make sense to me. Then Debra smiled. "Think of it like the energy flow in a machine. What parts move energy to other parts? How does the energy flow?"

I frowned. That seemed rather absurd, but as I considered her suggestion, the light-bulb lit. If I thought of the spell as the drivetrain in my car - the engine, transmission, and differential - then I could visualize how the parts worked together, how they transmitted force and energy. I knew _where_ I needed the energy of my spell to go - into the fragments I'd outlined of the dissected spells. I knew where it came from. All I had to do was to figure out how it had to be steered and shaped in the working of the spell. Transposing that knowledge into gears and machines, the answer popped into my head with an almost physical force.

Instead of the arcane lines and scribbles of Wakan Tanka's spell, I chose instead to draw the spell in terms I knew intimately - simple machines and combinations of simple machines. Ramps, levers, wheels, wedges, screws, pulleys. Combinations like gears and connecting rods. Wakan Tanka looked at my drawing with alarm, baffled by the strange notations I was making on the earth.

"There!" I said before turning to Debra and kissing her deeply. "Thank you for the inspiration!" I said enthusiastically.

"Do not celebrate yet," Wakan Tanka brought me back to earth. "You haven't tested the spell."

"Don't I have to wait until tomorrow, in the real world?" I asked.

"Yes. Tomorrow, you will test the spell, and then we will work more on it if needed."

A thought occurred to me. "So ... the spell sheets my teachers instruct Whateley students to use are...."

Wakan Tanka nodded. "They are maps for the flow of essence, with a store of essence embedded into the paper. When triggered, the essence flows through the map, causing the desired spell to take effect."

I nodded my understanding. "That ... that makes some of what we're learning in class make sense now." I was pleased with my 'eureka' moment of insight. "Now we can go play," I said to Debra in a husky, suggestive tone.

"No," Wakan Tanka rained on my parade. "You need to continue to learn of your heritage and culture." She stood and held out her hands to help Debra and me to our feet. "Come."

We walked with her out of the village and over a rise. To our amazement, we were looking down on a Lakota village that was bustling with activity. We walked down the hill into the village. I was surprised that none of the dogs barked at our approach, nor did the sentries seem to notice.

Led by Wakan Tanka, we walked among the villagers, observing them in their day-to-day activities. Some women were cooking. Some were sewing garments. A couple were tanning a buffalo hide. And a few were sitting together laughing and sharing news - and probably a bit of gossip. Children were playing games and dashing about happily, and I observed some of the boys stalking prey, in this case a rabbit cooking over an open fire. The women who were socializing while cooking would furtively glance at the boys, and then pretend that they hadn't seen them, while periodically tending to the meat to frustrate the boys' stealthy approach. Finally, the women sat down, turning their backs to the cooking meat, and the boys swooped in to steal their prize, dashing off with cries of triumph as they carried the food out of camp.

"The women were encouraging them, weren't they?" Debra asked Wakan Tanka.

"Let us go ask them," she replied. We went to the cluster, and were immediately invited to sit and join them. We learned that the women had indeed been taunting and playing games with the boys, encouraging them to be stealthier, more patient, and persistent, and then rewarding their play by allowing them to obtain their prize In this way, the one-day warriors would learn the basic skills they would someday employ.

We continued to walk around the camp, visiting, observing, and learning about the tribal culture of old. Finally, Wakan Tanka led us back to 'our' private camp. "You have seen much today, but there is still more to learn. We will visit the village often, so that you may learn of your culture."

I nodded wearily. After talking a little more with Wakan Tanka and having some tea, Debra and I retired to a tepee to cuddle and sleep in each other's arms.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Ten Miles North of Mission, SD

The second son of Unhcegila glanced worriedly at the horizon, where the first streaks of dawn were showing against the dark blue of the night sky. It was time to seek shelter for the day, but as he started his search for a safe, dark spot to retire until the next night, his astral senses picked up something he hadn't expected. He stopped and focused his attention.

If the snake demon could show surprise, this event would provoke such a display. He could still sense the shaman he'd been targeting, but now, he could pick up the astral vibrations of two more shamans. One of them surely would know of the location of the sacred sphere. And ... he started at the sensation ... _her_. It _had_ to be the ancient enemy of his father! He could sense her powerful projection and interaction with the dream plane, undisguised and bare for all who could sense such things, just as his brother had described, and his father had confirmed.

_She_ was ahead, the slayer of his brother and eternal enemy of his father. This was a far better opportunity than he could have wished for. If he obtained the sacred sphere _and_ killed his father's enemy, he'd be the pre-eminent son, earning bragging rights over his brother, and perhaps he'd even receive more power. He grinned to himself at that wicked thought; he aspired to be as powerful as his father. He caught himself in those wishes; first, he had to kill _her_ and get the sacred sphere. He'd have time to celebrate later.

Ignoring the rising sun, he pressed on, obsessed with his new goal. She was so close. He _had_ to strike while he had the opportunity, but the dawn light of the sun burned into him, searing him and causing him to cry out in agony. He tried to ignore the danger, but exhausted from pain and injury from the sun's brutal rays, he slithered into a culvert under the road, escaping the deadly sting of the daylight. He cursed himself for being slow; had he moved faster on the long journey from the other reservation, or if he'd have forgone one meal, then he would have been ready to strike rather than having to cower under the road. He'd strike that evening, when _she_ rested, defenseless. He'd get her first; she'd proven herself dangerous, but if he managed a sneak attack, she'd have no chance. He could then kill the shamans at his leisure, and thereby obtain information about the sacred sphere. He smiled wickedly to himself.

A particularly greedy thought went through his evil mind. If he could kill the Ptesanwi, and get the sacred sphere, then perhaps _he_ could benefit. His father was imprisoned and starved of energy; as long as he stayed in that prison, the second son was free to act as he wanted, and if he could tap into the power of the sacred sphere, then _he'd_ be all the more powerful. He could kill his brother who was trying to free the father. He could become a god-demon himself. _He_ would be the one they all feared, as was his birthright.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Rosebud Indian Reservation

The morning brought more surprises after breakfast at our hosts' houses. We went back to the gym. Several men dressed in traditional garb and whose faces were marked with paint stood stoically in two ranks at the far end of the gym facing us. All had fur draped over their shoulders and the same kind of fur wrapping their forearms. Each had at least two eagle feathers, either in a headband or attached to their lances. A few lances were held, tips to the sky, and what appeared to be wolf fur wrapped the shafts. To the right of the standing rows, several similarly attired men sat around a drum, beating a rhythm and chanting, while four girls, wearing brightly-adorned dresses, knelt in front of the men. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that the men were warriors, and that their uniformity of adornment with skins marked them as belonging to a warrior society.

To my complete surprise, Grandma was attired in shaman's garb, standing with two other shamans to the left of the rows, her face impassive as she gazed upon us. This was some very important ceremony, I realized, far more than the greeting at the airport or the celebration the night before.

The girls rose and met me, and after gesturing that my companions should halt, they escorted me to stand before the ranks of the men.

"Kayda Franks," one of the men called my name. He was tall, and though his hair was tinged with white, he appeared as physically strong as the younger men on either side of him. On his lance were many, many feathers, each one a testament to a feat of bravery.

"Yes," I answered nervously, not sure what to do.

"I am Martin Thunder Cloud, a warrior of the Sicangu Nation. From the beginning of time, from when Wakan Tanka first breathed life into the People, warriors arose to defend the People and their families against enemies of the tribes. Since then, bravery and fearlessness have been recognized and celebrated by the People, and special mark is given to those warriors as guardians of the tribe."

The men on the drums pounded and chanted a bit, adding drama to the words.

Holy cow! My heart was threatening to beat out of my chest from nervousness. If what I suspected was really happening ....

"As a shaman-to-be, you walk in the land of dreams. But unlike most shamans, you fight in the land of dreams, battling the son of Unhcegila to save a friend."

A collective gasp went through the assembled people; they _knew_ the name Unhcegila and his fearsome reputation, as well as the toughness of his sons. As the crowd began to murmur about this feat, another interlude of drumming and chanting followed his pronouncement.

"The son of Unhcegila corrupted a spirit-being of another tribe, inducing him to attack you. This underwater panther, normally a friend of the Iroquois tribe, attacked you, and you defeated that evil, slaying the creature before it could harm others in its demon insanity."

Once more there was the sound of murmurs, drums, and chanting.

"The son of Unhcegila touched the mind of a guard at your school," the older warrior continued, "and in his insanity, he tried to murder you and those around you, but you defeated him, and in doing so, saved his soul from his corrupted mind and body."

I glanced around nervously as the drums sounded once more. Some of the older members of the tribe, who'd looked at me with caution and skepticism the night before, now looked at me with respect, and even awe.

"The son of Unhcegila attacked you and your friends, and you showed the concern for others that is the hallmark of a great warrior by seeking to protect your friends before you considered your own safety. In the victory, you lost not a single friend to the demon snake."

I was terribly self-conscious at that point, feeling the stares of dozens and dozens of people upon me as the drummers again beat their instrument.

"From the start of time, we have marked feats of skill and courage with the feathers of Wabli, the sacred eagle, so that the People may know and admire those who fight to defend them, and that the young have examples they can aspire to emulate." He stepped forward to me, and one of the girls scampered to her feet and stood beside and behind him, holding a small leather-wrapped bundle. "Four times you have fought against the enemies of the People, and four times you have triumphed, always with honor." He unwrapped the bundle and pulled out a headband, with four eagle feathers. "It is our honor to welcome you, our zuya wikhoskalaka, our warrior girl, to join our ranks as warriors, defenders of the People."

The crowd erupted in cheers, but I swear that I heard Debra's enthusiastic congratulations above all the other noise. I bent forward, as one of the girls indicated, and the old man slipped a headband on me, while the drummers beat a celebratory song.

After the din of congratulations died down some, the older warrior held up his hands, and the effect was immediate. All other sound in the gymnasium ceased. "Normally, we wait and observe new warriors to see their skill and fighting style. We _know_ your fighting style, though, from a warrior who suggested that you would be a fitting member of the In'oka."

My eyes widened at that; who would have done that? Who knew of my fights and victories, and how I fought? Unless .... My eyes darted to Grandmother, but she looked as impassive as she always did. The only other option was ....

There was a stir by the drummers, and eyes darted that way. A man walked in, wearing his warrior's outfit, his face and chest marked with stripes of white. Billy Two Knives placed his hands on my shoulders and smiled. "Kayda fights with the spirit of Hoka, reluctant to fight if it is not necessary, but fearless and aggressive when it is. Though I am no longer In'oka, I was a proud member of the In'oka society, and I am confident that Kayda will bring honor, not shame, to her family and her tribe as an In'oka warrior."

The older warrior, Martin Thunder Cloud, placed a hand atop one of Mr. Two Knives' hands. "We would like you to join the In'oka."

I felt very overwhelmed. This was an honor I hadn't expected. I glanced around at my friends and family for some kind of sign. Danny looked both proud and envious. Julie smiled, and Addy looked like she was in awe of what was happening. She certainly would have tales to tell the next time she went home to France. Valerie likewise smiled. When I looked at Dad, he nodded, letting me know his thoughts. Mom, too, nodded, although she looked apprehensive. But the one I most needed, Debra, smiled and gave me a simple nod.

"I ... I would be honored to be part of the In'oka," I said, my mouth dry and the words coming out in squeaks.

Mr. Two Knives grinned, and Mr. Thunder Cloud smiled. "Very well." He turned to the girls. "Take Kayda to the shaman, her grandmother, for the cleansing and purification."

My eyebrows shot up at that. The older warrior noticed, and he chuckled softly. "It is a ritual cleaning in the Inipi Wakan, or sweat lodge," he explained to me. "Nothing to worry about."

"Um, is this ... private? Or can my mom join me?" I wasn't sure I wanted to be in this ritual without some kind of support.

Grandmother had walked briskly to my side. "It is a ritual cleansing of which all can partake. If you wish, your mom and your friends can join you."

"Yeah, that'd be cool."

Grandma turned toward Mom and gestured, so Mom and the girls joined us. "If you want, you can all take part in the cleansing ritual," she said.

"It's a small ritual in a sweat lodge," Mom explained to the other girls. "Like a sauna, but with a little Lakota ritual and tradition."

"Traditionally," Grandma added, "sweat lodge purification ceremonies are ... au natural."

My eyes bugged out at that. "Uh ... naked?" I mouthed, feeling my body starting to tremble with fear. Debra noticed and wrapped her arm around my waist to steady me.

Grandma must have noticed, too, because she immediately continued. "That's only done if everyone is of one sex. You don't have to do that, though."

"You don't have problems with the showers in Poe, do you?" she whispered to me. I shook my head 'no', still shaking. "This is just like that."

"I suppose," I said unconvincingly.

"Besides," Debra added with a wicked grin, "you _could_ consider this practice for the hot-tub party when you get back." She chuckled at my alarmed look.

Grandma looked expectantly at me. "It _is_ your choice, Ptesanwi," she said to prompt me for a response.

Dammit, she really put me on the spot. As Ptesanwi, I'd be expected to follow all traditions and rituals, including this one which involved nudity in the sweat lodge. I frowned at her, but she bore an innocent smile.

That was how I ended up in a Lakota version of a sauna, naked, with the four Lakota girls, Mom, my four friends, and Grandma to perform the ritual.

"This is, like, so cool!" Emily Walks-far, one of the Lakota girls, said as we undressed in the locker room. "Like, no girls _ever_ get into the warrior societies!"

Debra puzzled. "Aren't you girls members?"

"We're not warrior members," another of the girls answered. "Every society has a few girls, usually four, as ... dancers and assistants, but when they do the secret stuff, we have to leave."

"It's an honor to get to serve the In'oka," a third girl chimed in proudly.

"Why don't you join, then?" Valerie asked simply.

Emily shrugged. "That'd be neat," she answered, "but some of the older warriors don't want women in the society."

"That's just not right," I said angrily.

"Besides," the second girl said, "I'm not into the fighting stuff."

I frowned. "Why would they make an exception for me?"

Emily stared at me in disbelief. "Because you are the Ptesanwi," she said as if it was obvious. "They would bring dishonor on themselves, their families, and the whole tribe if they refused to let you be a member."

"Have they never heard the tale of Brave Woman, who counted coup on the Crow nation?" I asked, astonished.

While the girls all knew the story, Julie, Debra, Val, and Addy had never heard it. We slipped on robes and then walked outside and into the sweat lodge, a rounded hut about twelve feet in diameter that somewhat resembled an igloo. Once inside, Grandma shut the flaps covering the door, and then we disrobed. It was quite warm in the sweat lodge already, and it was almost immediately obvious why it was called a sweat lodge.

I wouldn't have been at all nervous about being naked around Mom, Valerie, or Debra, but it felt a little odd to be in a girls-only situation with Julie, and it really felt weird to see Grandma naked. I also felt quite shy about being with the four Lakota girls, who I didn't even know. It felt like they were sizing me up, comparing my body to theirs. I wasn't used to being naked with girls, at least not groups of girls. Okay, around a group of girls that I didn't really know, because the showers in Poe and Laird involved naked girls. If I'd have grown up a girl and had been in PE classes and locker rooms with these girls all my life, it would have been different. Maybe. Debra always told me how attractive I was, but I didn't have any self-confidence about my looks, especially after such a radical change, and doubly so because of the girls I showered with at Whateley. Mom had taught me years earlier - in hopes that I'd learn to be a gentleman and be supportive of a girlfriend someday - that few girls were confident about their appearance, so I reasoned that maybe I wasn't so unusual in that regard.

I gawked at Debra - a whole bunch. And she gazed longingly at me. At least, I hope that's what the look in her eyes meant. As we sat down, she leaned closer. "You're going to be real popular at the hot-tub party," she said with a leer. "I know _I'd_ be very interested if I were there!"

"That's not very comforting," I hissed back. At least she was light-hearted about the whole hot-tub party thing instead of being angry at me for getting myself tricked into going.

We sat around a central pit containing several large stones that radiated heat; they'd been in a fire until moments before we entered, so they were extremely hot. Next, she sprinkled water from a gourd onto the rocks, where it sizzled and boiled, filling the sweat lodge with steam. After sprinkling some herbs on the rocks, which smoked and filled the hut with their aroma, she sat back. Chanting, Grandma invoked a little prayer, and then the girls and Grandma broke into a song.

Wakantanka
toka heya cewikiyelo
Wakantanka
toka heya cewikiyelo
Mitakuye ob wani kta ca
toka heya cewikileyo

Tunkashila
toka heya cewikiyelo
Tunkashila
toka heya cewikiyelo
Mitakuye ob wani kta ca
toka heya cewikileyo

When the song was over, Grandma explained that it was the Prayer Song, one of the ritual songs typically sung during a sweat lodge ceremony. Then the four Lakota girls continued with another song.

Wiohypeyata etun wan yo!
nitunkasita
ahitunwan yankelo
Cekiya yo! Cekiya yo!
Ahitunwan yankelo.

The singing continued through all the verses of the Four Directions Song, and like the prayer song, I felt self-conscious when the fifth verse said to pray to Wakan Tanka - who I was the embodiment and prophetess of. The looks I got from the Lakota girls and Grandmother was more than a little spooky. Debra, Val, Julie, and Addy sat and listened and observed; I think that Addy was most impressed by the ceremony, as she'd had the least exposure to Native American culture. No doubt she was going to have a ton of tales to share with Alicia and the Beret Mafia when she got back to Whateley.

While Grandmother unwrapped a bundle she'd brought with us into the lodge. I was startled to see that it was a pipe of some kind. Of course, this elicited another song - the Sacred Pipe Song, and then, as Grandma loaded the bowl with some mixture of plants and herbs, they sang the Pipe Loading Song, and then Grandma lit the pipe, drawing deeply from the smoke. She passed the pipe around, and the Lakota girls took their turns, and although they were excited, from their expressions, they'd probably never been in a pipe ritual before.

The smoke stung my throat and lungs at first, but at the same time, the herbal-scented, magic-laden smoke infused me with tranquility. I wondered what was in it, and whether _that_ would pass muster at Whateley, or if was a somewhat illicit substance. As I took one more draw from the pipe, the girls started another song, one that was special for this occasion.

Oyate wamayanka po
Oyate wamayanka po
Le canunpa ki le wakan yelo
Oyate wamayanka po

The verse repeated several times as the rest of us passed the pipe, and when it was over, my expression brought a chuckled from Grandmother. "That is the 'White Buffalo Calf Maiden Pipe Song'," she explained with a smile. "Appropriate, isn't it?"

I blushed furiously; the song was in honor of me, or more correctly, the spirit I carried, the Ptesanwi. These Lakota girls were going to have a _lot_ of tales to tell their classmates and friends in school - they'd partaken of the peace pipe in a sweat lodge ceremony with the Ptesanwi! That was really going to boost their cred among their peers.

Grandmother sat back, taking another draw from the pipe. "Now I will tell you the story of Brave Woman, who counted coup against the Crow," she began, looking pointedly at the four Lakota girl. Like a story-keeper, she recounted the tale of a woman whose three brothers had been killed fighting the Crow nation. In determination to count coup for them, she went into a great battle, where she joined the fighting, but instead of using a weapon, she counted coup against the Crow warriors to shame them and avenge her brothers. A young brave rescued her when her horse was killed, giving his life to save hers. But her bravery had rallied the Lakota people, who drove the Crow from the lands, never to return.

"That is _so cool_!" the girls replied, obviously impressed by the legend.

"Often, in the past," Grandma continued, explaining to the girls as she sprinkled more water on the hot stones, "a woman with two-spirits would join the warriors, fighting courageously and fiercely. Enemies feared a woman in battle, because a woman's cleansing and renewal was thought to be so powerful as to render an attacker's weapons and even his horse, useless. There were even warrior societies just for women!"

"Like, they never teach us _that_ stuff!" Emily said, awestruck at spending time with a shaman who was teaching her Lakota heritage.

"What does 'two spirits' mean?" the second girl asked, curious. I had hoped that the girls had missed the reference.

"A person with two-spirits has both the male and the female spirit in them," Grandma said, staring expressionlessly at Debra as she spoke. "They are special, understanding and being both. In the past, a two-spirit woman might take a wife, and might be a warrior. A two-spirit man might be a nanny, or a healer."

"So it's, like, people who are LGBT?" Emily asked, curious.

Grandma cocked an eyebrow at her. "LGBT?" she asked.

"Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered," the girls explained. One rolled her eyes that this old-fashioned grandmotherly woman didn't even know that!

"No," Grandma replied. "That's the white-man's thinking. In Lakota thinking, two-spirits are special, because they understand both male and female. Before the white religion came, two-spirits were honored, even revered by the People as being very special."

I was anxious to change the subject, lest it come out that Debra and I were two-spirits. "Grandmother," I began, "do you have your medicine pouch?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Would it be okay to brew some tea to help heal and calm our minds?"

Grandmother smiled coyly. "If Ptesanwi wishes to have that in her ritual, who am I to say no? But no, I don't have my full medicine pouch."

I turned to Emily. "Can you go to the locker room and get my medicine pouch? And see if you can get a dozen cups - but not metal ones."

"Plastic? 'Cause I know there are plastic cups left over from last night," Emily replied.

"That'll work."

Over half an hour later, cleaned by the steam bath and refreshed physically and mentally by the special magic-infused tea and whatever had been in the peace pipe, after concluding with the 'Giving Thanks Song', we returned to the locker room and got dressed - and I was provided with a traditional outfit like the four girls, and then we all returned to the gym.

To my extreme psychological discomfort, the gathered In'oka warriors led me back out of the gym and into a massive, colorfully-decorated tepee. I'm not sure I could have managed without panicking if Mr. Two Knives hadn't been with me; as a former In'oka, he was allowed into the secret ceremonies of the society, and as my tutor, he knew where I was most sensitive to an episode of PTSD. I was willing to bet that he'd taken precautions on my behalf to ensure that I didn't suffer one. Their ceremony was short, and as it was secret, I swore to never repeat what happened. When we came back to the gym, I was publicly presented with Mr. Two Knives' lance and otter skins as ceremonial signs of my membership in the In'oka. It was also as sign of trust and confidence by Mr. Two Knives, as his lance and skins were obviously precious to him.

The presentation was followed with another celebration, even more festive than the night before. It was a huge event to have a new warrior into their societies. Grandma later confirmed that the People just liked an occasion to celebrate, because they were, by tradition very social.

Suddenly, all the people parted from me, stepping back a few paces and leaving me in the center of the gym. I started toward Mom and Debra, but Grandma shook her head, indicating that I should stay put. I was baffled, but only had a moment to think about the situation before two women came forward holding a large quilt. To the accompaniment of drums and more songs, the women draped the highly-symbolic Star Quilt over my shoulders, and then wrapped me in it. I had a lump in my throat the size of a walnut, because Grandma had often spoken of the significance of a Star Quilt ceremony to honor a person. Though I was being treated like royalty, I felt unworthy of all the attention and honor the People were showering on me.

"You are very important to the People," Wakan Tanka chided me as we sat cross-legged on the ground by the camp's fire ring. "Do not deny them the joy that they feel."

"But ... I'm just ...." I started to object.

"You are the vessel of Ptesanwi, and my prophetess," Wakan Tanka said, looking sternly at me. "You are of great importance to the people. Be gracious and let them celebrate."

It was mid-afternoon when Dad observed that we needed to get to the airport to fly back home, but the tribal chief just smiled. "We have one more gift for our new daughter," he said.

Even though there had already been more gifts than birthday and Christmas combined, the tribe was insistent on presenting one more. I was feeling quite uncomfortable with what they were giving me. The Rosebud Indian Reservation was one of the poorest places in the country, and I really didn't want to take advantage of their hospitality.

"You've done more than enough," I protestedweakly. "I don't want to take advantage ...."

"Kayda," Grandmother whispered in my ear, "our culture is of a generous heart. It would be rude to not accept the gifts."

"A warrior needs one thing," Mr. Thunder Cloud continued. "It has always been our custom to present a new warrior with his most important possession."

Puzzling over his mysterious words, I followed the tribal and In'oka leaders out of the gym, where almost all the people had gathered in a circle. I stood in the center of the circle, looking around, baffled by the mystery, but the leaders - the chief, the In'oka elder, Mr. Two Knives, Grandmother, and a few others, including Mr. Bear Claws, smiled knowingly.

At a nod from the Mr. Thunder Cloud and the chief, the crowd parted and murmurs of assent began to ripple through the people.

There was no mistaking the clop-clop sound of hooves on the asphalt as they led the horse to me. My jaw felt like it was dragging on the ground as I stared at the animal. As the In'oka girl leading the horse put the harness rope in my hands, Mr. Thunder Cloud beamed at me.

It was a magnificent animal, a mare of probably three or four years. She was a pinto, splotched with rusty brown over white, with a few lighter brown blotches, and she stood probably about thirteen and a half hands high - a comfortable height for me to ride. She shied away from me, but as Mr. Two Knives had shown me, I put my hand on her neck to steady her, not moving fast so I didn't startle the horse. Once she was calm, I leaned my head against hers. "Be calm, sukawakan," I said very softly. "I know your spirit, and your spirit knows mine. I am your friend, and you are my friend." She turned and stared at me, and I stroked her cheek gently.

"She's not broken to a saddle," Mr. Thunder Cloud cautioned me. "You'll have to do that before you can ride her."

I glanced at Mr. Two Knives and grinned; he shot a knowing smile back at me. "Let us show these people that you and I are already a team, sukawakan," I whispered to my horse. "I think I will call you Summer. Do you like that?" I moved to the horse's side, and then sprang onto her back. I could tell she was startled a bit, but she didn't flinch or skitter - much. I leaned forward, my hand on her neck. "Good girl. We can run free later, but for now, let's just walk around a little to get used to each other." Straightening again, I used my knees and pressure on her neck to guide her around a little bit, walking slowly but confidently.

I dismounted, grinning broadly, to a round of thunderous applause. They obviously hadn't expected me to know how to ride a horse in the traditional way, and it only increased their respect for me. I nodded slightly to Mr. Two Knives, who smiled back. He had to have known about this; why else would we have suddenly changed training to include horsemanship? And Grandma knew; she'd driven out to the celebration in dad's truck, towing a horse trailer so I could take my horse - _my_ horse! - home. That wasn't the end of the surprises; Grandma, Mom, and Mr. Two Knives had made arrangements to transport my horse to Whateley. I was so overwhelmed and happy that I was fighting tears of joy.

It seemed like the whole town turned out at the airport to see us off. Nearly the entire rear seat of the truck was filled with gifts; if it hadn't, I would have driven myself, with my friends, towing the trailer, and let Grandma fly home with the others.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Kayda's Home

It would have been nice to snuggle into my soft bed, but because we had so many guests and so little room, the girls and I decided to have a sleepover down in the finished part of the basement. We'd intended to sleep in, but the aromas of Mom's breakfast penetrated every nook and cranny of the house, and we woke up a lot earlier than we'd planned. Addy was thrilled beyond belief that Mom served her chokecherry jelly, and Debra ate enough for any five normal late-teenage bottomless-pit boys, which shocked Julie, but the rest of us Whateley girls were used to energizers' appetites.

After the rather hectic, whirlwind tours of the Black Hills and the reservation, we all wanted nothing more than a lazy morning of resting. Despite crushing on Valerie, Danny beat a hasty retreat to help Dad with the chores when we steered the conversation into areas that girls would talk about together, but which made boys very, very uncomfortable. I'd heard enough of that in my time at Whateley that it seemed normal. After he left, we giggled at his discomfort, and then the conversation returned to Whateley.

Adalie had the rapt attention of Debra and Valerie as she regaled them with tales of the "mad freshmen from Poe", Team Kimba, who had the same affinity for trouble that a magnet had for iron. I was even shocked at some of the stories that I hadn't heard. Fighting Ninjas the first night at Whateley - in their sleepwear. Fighting - and defeating - the Alphas. Multiple detentions in Hawthorne. Three fights in Boston. The insane antics of the team devisor, whose affinity for 'Hello, Kitty' was almost as maddening as her ... unorthodox ... tactics. And the tale of Ayla and Peril and the fake penis had us all in stitches. I rather sadistically wished that Danny had been present for that one; his reaction to the story of Ayla apparently ripping a penis off Peril would have been amusing to watch.

Okay, so I was more a girl than I'd realized. A few weeks ago, I could have really sympathized with Peril, and would have had my hands crossed over my crotch at that story. But now? While I could still mentally relate, emotionally I couldn't.

I could tell that the others didn't believe the stories, so I corroborated some of them, as well as added some of the non-secret, inside-Poe misadventures. Debra knew the stories of Poe being the residence of the head-cases was just a cover, but when Addy and I finished our stories, Valerie was probably even more convinced that Poe was a nuthouse.

After she finished cleaning up - she positively _would not_ let us help, no matter how much we protested - Mom sadly showed me the remains of the wooden clock I'd made.

I saw the sad look in her eye; even though it meant little to me, it was one of _her_ keepsakes. "What happened?"

"The Sheriff," Mom spat bitterly. "After a few things in town, he got Judge Reinard to issue a search warrant for you. He was using the warrant as a pretext to ransack the house."

I felt myself burning with anger. "Where is he?" I screamed. "I'll rip him a new asshole!"

I realized, suddenly, that Debra and Mom were restraining me to calm me. "The State Police arrested him for overstepping his authority and criminal mischief," Mom explained.

"But that was _yours_," I protested, a tiny bit calmer. "And he ...."

"Kayda," Mom said very insistently, holding my cheeks so I was looking her square in the eyes, "it was only a _thing_. The most important thing to me is _you_!"

I nodded as her words sank in. After a moment, I asked, "Where are the pieces?"

"Why?"

"I'm going out to the shop to fix it," I announced. After Mom handed me a box with the shattered remains of the clock I'd once so proudly given to mom, I led a procession out to the shop, where I set down the parts and began to look them over more carefully.

"What does this make you think of?" Debra asked Valerie as I checked for damage.

"The devisor tunnels?" Valerie replied uncertainly.

Debra nodded. "Yeah." She came up beside me, wrapping her arms around me from behind. The girls all knew, so she felt more at ease to display affection. "How bad is it?"

I shrugged. "Most of the damage is to the housing and faceplate, but there are two gears that are broken, and the wooden spring for the escapement is split, so I'll have to make a few new parts." I closed my eyes for a second or two. "And if I use a laminated wooden spring, it'll be far less sensitive to changes in temperature and humidity," I added. "Mom always said that it was off a bit on hot days. And maybe I should ...."

"What does _that_ make you think?" Debra asked Valerie, interrupting me.

"Definitely a gadgeteer!" Valerie laughed. "Always thinking of ways to improve things."

I began to work on the new parts while the girls continued to chat about Whateley. Julie was getting more and more curious, and while some of the stories might have been intimidating to her, the majority of the Whateley tales had her intrigued. It sounded like she'd go back with Addy and me to Whateley if she could.

I had to patiently explain to the girls why I was making the parts out of laminated wood, and Debra went so far as to ask how the mechanism worked.

Eventually, Debra's attention turned to another part of the large shop. "Is this your car?" she asked. "The one you were working on?"

I glanced up from what I was doing. "Yeah."

"It looks like it needs a lot of work," Addy observed.

I shrugged, not particularly caring at that moment. I had the clock to focus on. "Yeah, well when I get a chance, I'll work on it."

"Why not take it out this term?" Valerie asked, puzzled. "If you join the Gearheads ...."

"I'm _not_ joining the Gearheads," I snapped, and then realized that my uncharacteristically terse response had caused all the girls to stare at me in disbelief. "Not this term, anyway." I added quickly to back away from my vehemence. "I'm ... too busy, with my classes, and all the training, and now leading the Nations ...." It was a very transparent lie, but it was all I could think of.

"It looks like a lot of work to put it back together," Julie observed, eyeing me warily. When I caught her eyes, I could tell that she knew there was more to the story than I'd said.

"Yeah," I said glumly. "And that would be a straight reassemble. I want to do some major modifications, which will take even more time." I glanced at the car. "I'd like to put in a dry sump lube system, and I'd really like to get independently-sprung four-wheel-drive, like most super-cars have. But that'll take some major frame modifications. If I adapted the transfer case I made for Dad's tractor, then I could ..." My voice faded off as I became wrapped up in thought about what I could do to the drive system.

"The machine shops and labs at Whateley are a _lot_ better than you'd get around here," Valerie offered hesitantly. She, too, had picked up on my nervousness about the Gearheads and the shops.

The girls quickly bored of the technical discussion, and all but Debra went back in the house to sample some caramel-pecan rolls Mom was baking. Debra came up behind me again as I glued up some thin strips of veneer to make the laminated blanks I'd need to rebuild the clock.

"What's really going on?" Debra asked, her arms wrapped around me and her chin on my shoulder.

"I ... I don't ...." I shook my head, trying to figure out what was going on. "I'm ... I'm scared, okay?" I finally blurted.

"Why?"

"Because ... I'm ... I'm just average," I said bitterly. "All I hear about is the devisors and gadgeteers and how smart they are. Everyone talks about how much they know, and what they can make, and ... and I can't compete with that!" I wiped my eyes, which were suddenly moist.

"You told me you'd been working with Dr. Bellows on that, and that you were doing better." Debra said. "So what's really going on?"

I ... I don't feel like I'm good at _anything_!" I sniffled. "It's ... it's like I don't matter."

"You _do_ matter, sweetie," she assured me.

"Not at Whateley," I protested. "If I join groups like the Gearheads, everyone will be smarter, and telling me what I'm doing wrong, and how I should do everything. And then ... whatever I do the car ... won't really be mine."

"That's not how most of those groups operate," Debra gently chided me. "The faculty advisors try to keep that from happening."

"But it _does_ happen, doesn't it?"

Debra nodded. "Yeah, it does. Sometimes." She held me for a while. "Who is it you're afraid of?"

"What?" I was stunned by her question.

"Who is it that you find so intimidating?"

I closed my eyes briefly. "All I hear about is some wonder-girl named Loophole. Everyone says she's the best gadgeteer ever, that everything she makes works perfectly."

"Loophole?" Debra asked, surprised.

"Some kids call her the Gadgeteer Goddess, Workshop Wiz, Lab Queen, and stuff like that. Whenever I'm in electronics, all I hear about is how wonderful she is. She supposedly invented Kevra ..."

"Yeah," Debra replied. "I know. Just about every super uses it. It was a big deal last year when she patented it."

"See?" I cried. "Even you're doing it! I'm not good at anything compared to her, and Fey in magic, and ..." I shook my head, fighting tears. "I'm not good at anything."

Debra spun me around and wrapped me in a hug, letting me cry on her shoulder as I gave vent to my fears and frustrations. "Yes, you are. How many kids channel the Great Spirit?" she asked. "How many kids kill Class X snake demons?"

"Ayla killed a major demon at Christmastime," I sniffled. "Tennyo _eats_ demons! And there are a hundred kids that are much better fighters."

She released the hug and took my cheeks in her hands. "You _are_ very special. Of all those kids, how many were asked to work on that advanced pattern-math stuff or are teaching calculus? How many have started student groups? How many of them are In'oka? How many of them could have healed me like you did?"

I nodded slowly, not feeling comforted much. "Maybe," I said softly, not sounding at all convincing."

"Tell you what," Debra offered. "Yesterday, you were talking about going horseback riding. Let's go get some of those rolls before they're all gone, ..."

A sudden thought broke my gloomy mood, and I couldn't help but snicker. "I'd worry about that if _you_ were one of the girls sampling them."

Debra showed her maturity by sticking her tongue out at me. "So let's go try one or two ... dozen ... and then we can go horseback riding. You did say we have enough horses?"

"Yeah." I thought a moment, glancing at the glue-ups and then at my car. A nice day out with friends would take my mind off the labs and workshops - and my seemingly unavoidable sense of inferiority whenever talk turned to that subject.

As expected, Mom's rolls were heavenly; we all managed to grab a couple before Debra could eat the rest, which she didn't, despite all our teasing to the contrary. Once the idea of horseback riding was broached, everyone seemed to love the idea, except maybe Adalie. Thought her words said she was eager to go riding, her expression and tone of voice said otherwise.

Still showing off for Valerie, Danny helped saddle the horses, even acting like a know-it-all and explaining to her what every part of the saddle was called and what it function was. After saddling horses for Addy and Debra, I just put a blanket and simple harness on my pinto, and then, chuckling, saddle a horse for Julie, because Danny was taking way too long being helpful to Valerie.

"It's too bad we only have four horses," Danny said, and then he looked at my horse. "Five, counting yours," he added enviously. "It’s a nice day to ride."

I just shrugged. "Well, it's girls' day for riding." I pointed to some saddle bags. "Get a couple of those, would you? Mom packed us a picnic lunch."

Addy glanced at the bags, and then at the lunch. "I don't think the 'orses will be able to carry all the lunch. We will need a large 'orse-drawn wagon if we carry enough food for Debra."

Debra stuck her tongue out at Addy, and we all giggled. "I don't eat _that_ much!" Debra protested feebly.

Danny was not about to be denied time flirting with Valerie, and he pounced on the opportunity to be gallant. "Why don't you call when you're ready for lunch, and I can drive it out to meet you," he offered.

I thought it was a bad idea, but the other girls were satisfied, especially as it would mean that our beverages wouldn't warm up while we rode, and I'm sure Debra and Val figured they could con Danny into cleaning up once we were done. I can't say that I disagreed with them; Danny was following Val around like a love-sick puppy, and if she asked, he'd probably have licked the ground clean for her to sit.

As we rode, I began to realize that it felt more natural to ride without the saddle. We rode down to where a small creek was dammed to create a watering hole for cattle; the field was empty, though, because the cattle were in another pasture. I noticed that Addy's expression was getting sadder with every step her horse took. I urged my horse forward to Debra's side. "Something's really bothering Addy," I said softly so the other girls wouldn't hear. "You go ahead with Julie and Val, and I'll hold back a bit to see what's wrong."

"Okay," Debra answered. "Where ...?"

"Just follow the stream until you get to the dam. You can't miss it. It's a mile and a half or so." I gently tugged back on the halter, and my horse slowed, allowing Debra, Julie, and Val to move ahead of me. Once I was beside Addy, I directed my horse to walk beside hers.

"Are you okay?" I asked bluntly. "I noticed that you seem a little ... unhappy."

Addy shook her head. "No, I'm okay," she lied transparently. "It's just been awhile since I 'ave been 'orseback riding." She couldn't hide the trembling in her voice, though.

"I can tell something's wrong," I replied softly. "You can tell me."

She stared at the horses fifteen or twenty yards ahead of us. "I ... miss riding," she said softly.

"There's a stable at Whateley. I'm sure they wouldn't mind ...."

"No," Addy sniffled. "Ma amie Collette and I rode 'er 'orses frequently. It was ... special time together." She wiped at her moist cheeks. "After I manifested, we were riding, and 'Enri tried to 'urt 'er by spooking 'er 'orse. I chased the 'orse and stopped it, saving 'er, but she realized that I was a mutant, and she ..." She lowered her gaze, shaking her head sadly. "She never spoke to me after that. Even though ...."

From what Addy had told me our first night in Sioux Falls, I knew the rest of the story. Addy and Collette had been best friends, and had experimented a bit as lovers - but she wasn’t two-spirits, as she enjoyed sex with boys. I hadn't realized that horseback riding would bring back memories she'd rather not have dredged up. "You have a lot of friends who don't care that you're a mutant." I didn't know what to say, and was probably making it worse.

"Mama was a mutant," Addy volunteered wistfully "I never knew until ma amie Madame Rousseaux told me - after I'd discovered that I was ... a mutant. She was a 'ero 'erself in Paris, the Guardian Mother. She 'elped me to escape the angry crowd after I was discovered."

"I'm sure at Whateley that some boys ...."

"Non," Addy interrupted me. "Non. I've ... been ..." She shook her head, trying to figure out how to voice her thoughts. "Until recently, I was 'olding in all my grief and my anger at the Americain doctor and Nicole, and I'm afraid that everyone thinks that I'm a stuck-up bitch."

"What about your friends in the Ber .... the European Promotional League?"

"I'm afraid they think I'm a snob, too," Addy said. "I certainly gave them more than enough reason."

"I'm sure there are boys who'd find you friendly and attractive," I tried to sound positive.

She sighed. "I doubt it. Not after the way I've acted. But ...."

I saw her expression. "So there _is_ a boy you're interested in!" I said with a grin.

"Per'aps," Addy said, her slight blush betraying that there _was_ someone. "We should catch up to the others." She was obviously eager to change the subject.

"You know I won't turn my back on you," I reassured Addy. "You can talk to me anytime you want."

"Oui," she replied. "I know. You and Alicia are my best friends at Whateley."

* * * * * * * * * *

We'd had a busy afternoon - with riding, and then, after ensuring that Dad and Danny were occupied, Debra, Val, Addy, and I talked Julie into driving down to a stand of trees next to a stock dam. We wanted to see if she had any control over her powers, so we had her stand by one tree and try to warp to another. No matter how she tried, though, she couldn't accomplish the task.

Of course, Debra, Val, and I came up with a plan, which we didn't share with Julie, because that might have spoiled things. Val drew the short straw, so while Deb and I were talking with Julie beside the tree, Val sneaked up, carrying a large stick, and then suddenly charged, screaming and waving the improvised club like a mad woman about to hit Julie.

The next thing we all knew, Julie was standing by the second tree, startled and stark naked. It took a few seconds for her heart to stop racing, and then she started yelling at us for frightening her. And then she suddenly realized that she had warped to the second tree, and her jaw quit working as she stared in disbelief. It took a bit for her to realize that warping had disrobed her, as it had before. We got a chuckle out of her sudden modesty, and she didn't appreciate the suggestion that she should try warping again since she was already naked.

"The other thing they did was to hide by trees," Debra noted. "Try that."

Julie, having pulled on her underwear, frowned at Debra, but stepped against the tree. We all waited, and she seemed to be concentrating, but she was still visible. "Is it working?" she asked.

We all shook our heads. "Nope."

Val did something with her fingers. "I can _feel_ something in you," she reported, "but I don't know what it is. It _might_ be the power that lets you warp between trees, or it might be the power that lets you hide."

"How am I supposed to do this?" Julie demanded, frustrated by her lack of results.

"Why don't you try to warp again? That worked for you," Debra suggested.

"Only because you scared the crap out of me!" Julie retorted angrily.

"Try to remember how it felt inside at the time you did it before."

"I don't know _how_ it felt," Julie complained. "It just _happened_! I was scared. I had to get away - both times!"

"Would it 'elp if we threatened you again?" Addy asked with a wicked grin.

"Don't you dare!" Julie roared back at her.

We all stood, thinking for a moment; for Julie, clad in only her underwear, it was probably a bit embarrassing, too.

"Think of something scary," I finally suggested.

"Like what?" Julie asked.

"I don't know. Like a bear coming to get you or something."

Julie closed her eyes for a moment in concentration, and then suddenly, her underwear fluttered to the ground. We started looking around to see where she'd gone, but the scream from over our heads interrupted us, and we all gawked up.

Julie was straddling a branch high in the tree, and two angry squirrels were chittering around her in a rather threatening way. It was a big cottonwood tree, so she was pretty high up - probably forty or forty-five feet. "Help!" she cried. "Get me down!"

"Hang on and don't make any sudden moves!" Val cautioned her immediately. "Kayda, can you do anything?" she asked me.

I winced. "I don't think so."

"Helluva time to not have a telekinetic," Debra groused.

"What happened?" I couldn't help asking.

"I don't know!" Julie screamed. "Get me down!"

"Can you levitate? Or make her fly or float or something?" I asked Val.

Val shook her head. "I can do a spell enough for _me_ to fly carrying maybe forty or fifty pounds, but that's it."

I looked back up. "Hang on, Julie. We'll get you down."

"Wakan Tanka!" I cried, running to the fire circle where she sat, as usual, drinking her tea. "Wakan Tanka, I need help."

"Julie has gotten herself stuck up in a tree," she finished the thought.

"Yeah." I was a little put off by her nonchalance.

"There is a spell that will enable you to fly," she said calmly. "I suppose I should teach you." She put down her cup of tea like it was a great imposition.

"Today, I think!" I encouraged her.

She glared at me with one eyebrow cocked, and then set about instructing me.

"Okay, Wakan Tanka taught me a spell so I can fly," I declared as soon as I came out of my dream-world.

Val read my expression. "But?" she asked.

"I'll be able to lift about eighty pounds," I answered, "so we're going to have to make this a team effort."

"Eep!" Val winced. "That's ... tricky. We had to do it in flight class," she continued, "and it didn't always work out well."

"Do we have a choice?" I demanded.

"If she can hold on, we _could_ have Farmboy fly up here to rescue her," Debra offered. "But at top speed, it'd take him about forty minutes to get here."

"I am _not_ going to wait up here for some guy to fly up and see me naked!" Julie screamed from up in the tree.

Debra worried her lip. "You two be careful," she said nervously as we set about our spell-casting.

It took me a bit longer to cast my spell than it did Val. And she'd flown before, whereas I'd never done even simple flight. "You just focus on lifting straight up and down," Val told me.

I nodded, and gulping, began to will myself to float up. Val came up beside me, taking my arm, and she guided me toward the branch Julie was straddling. "Okay, Kayda," she said as we hovered near our stranded friend, "you're going to have to focus on both keeping yourself floating _and_ on lifting Julie. You _have to_ stay focused on both."

I gulped again, and then looked at Julie. "Can you turn, so you aren't straddling the branch?"

Her eyes wide with fear, clinging to the bark for dear life, she swung one leg over the branch, moving inch by terrifying inch. Following Val's lead, I used the tree branch to pull my floating body toward her.

"Okay, now Julie, you need to put one arm over Kayda's shoulder, and the other over mine. You're going to have to do it at the same time, or we'll all fall."

Julie nodded almost imperceptibly, staring at the ground so far below. "Okay," she whimpered.

"Now, put your arms over our shoulders, but don't put any weight on us, okay?" Val directed. I felt her suddenly clinging to my shoulder, and I reached with my hands to grasp her hand, pulling down a little so her arm wouldn't slip off me. I glanced, and saw that Val was doing the same.

"Okay, Kayda, are you ready?" Val asked. When I nodded, she continued instructing me. "We need to go straight up a bit to get her clear of the tree, okay?"

"Up?" Julie whimpered, and I flinched as well. This was _not_ the casual, fun afternoon we had planned.

"Ready, Kayda?" Val asked. "On three, we lift. One. Two. Three."

At three, I willed myself higher, and so did Val. Julie screamed in fright as she felt herself being pulled up from the branch, and it was all I could to do ignore her cries and focus on holding her hand and levitating myself.

Less than a minute later, guided by Val, we set foot on the ground. I'd done nothing but lift with all my power, while she'd used her greater experience to guide and direct us, lessening _her_ lifting power so that we floated gently to the earth.

Julie was adamant that we weren't going to do any more testing, and the rest of us readily agreed. This wasn't a place for amateurs, even if I had the world's foremost expert on Canotila in my head. Translating that expertise into safe testing for Julie was harder than I'd thought.

We were still talking about the misadventure at dinner, with both Mom and Dad eyeing us warily. I _knew_ I was going to get a talking-to about experimenting with Julie's powers, and to be honest, I had it coming.

After dinner, we all agreed that a nice movie would be the thing, but when Danny started to put in Pirates of the Caribbean, Mom stopped him. "Nope. I _always_ had to watch whatever testosterone-laden thing you men wanted to watch. Now it's _my_ turn." With a smug smile, she put in a movie about some newlywed couple honeymooning in Europe. It didn't take Dad and Danny long to move to the other room so they could watch a guy-film, like Predator. That gave us gals more room, so I cuddled with Debra on the sofa.

After the movie ended, Mom led the other girls out to the kitchen for another of her caramel rolls, which she'd fortuitously hidden from Debra. I should have suspected something was up, but that became too clear when Dad came into the family room with Mom, and they closed the door behind themselves before sitting down.

"Um, is something wrong?" I asked nervously, sitting up but still holding Debra's hand.

Debra glanced at me, and then uneasily at my parents.

"We're ... concerned," Mom said hesitantly.

"You're still pretty young, Kayda," Dad added quickly. "Probably ...."

"You think I'm too young to be in love, right?" I finished for him, feeling a flash of anger. "Is that what you're trying to say?"

"No, honey," Mom said quickly to mollify me. "I'm sure you think you're in love, and ...."

"I _know_ I'm in love with Debra," I countered. I was about to let loose, but Debra's hand squeezing mine interrupted my intended rant.

"June, Pete," Debra interrupted, "I know we're kind of young, and I know you're worried about Kayda getting hurt."

"We're worried that you're too young to understand how complex a relationship can be. That you're experiencing the thrill of feeling in love, without understanding that there has to be trust and friendship behind that feeling in order to have a lasting relationship," Dad explained. I was surprised. I'd expected him and Mom to tell me that I shouldn't be so serious about Debra, but instead, he was gently trying to get us to look past the passionate romance.

"We've experienced a lot of that," Debra spoke before I could. "We dream-walk together almost every night. It's like going on dates, or hanging out like best friends." She chuckled. "We've even had a few arguments." I nodded meekly at that revelation.

Mom and Dad's eyes widened. I know they both understood a little about dream-walking, but they hadn't really understood how extensive and realistic it was.

"A dream can cover several days," I added. "Time in my dream world is different from time in the real world. In a minute of real-world time, we could spend a week of dream-time. So even though we've only really known each other for a few weeks, we've spent the equivalent of probably over a year together."

"And ...?" Mom started to ask, and then stopped, wincing.

I blushed furiously and looked away, feeling quite humiliated by the direction Mom was hinting at, but Debra chose to confront her halting, awkward question. "We're very much aware of our age difference," she said bluntly, "and the law. There are lines we're making sure we don't cross." She looked at me with a mixture of love and lust. "We love each other and we can wait."

Mom frowned, raising one eyebrow, signaling that she wasn't satisfied with the answer she got, but she also had the look that said 'we'll talk later'. I gulped, thinking about how awkward _that_ conversation was going to be if _this_ one was already as pleasant as sitting on a cactus.

The conversation halted for a while, none of us quite sure what to say next. Finally, Dad broke the uneasy silence. "Debra, I know you care for Kayda, and I can tell that you're good for her, especially at this ... vulnerable point in her life," he said, "but I can't help worrying about her. I don't want her to get hurt."

"I don't want to get hurt either, Daddy," I said, and then flinched as I realized I'd used the girly term 'daddy'. Mom and Debra both shot me a glance at my choice of wording. "I trust Debra to not hurt me. Not on purpose, anyway," I added, putting my free hand atop our already clasped hands. "I've already trusted her with my life."

Dad looked at us, and then he looked at Mom. "Does this remind you of anyone?" he asked wryly.

Mom chuckled. "I seem to remember you having a similar conversation with my parents, over the same thing."

"And that worked out pretty well, despite their worries, didn't it?" Dad asked. I was startled by his seeming change of heart, but perhaps he realized that we were entitled to the same benefit of the doubt that my grandparents had given him. He sighed, rubbing his closed eyes with his finger and thumb, resting his elbow on the arm of his chair. "You know this is going to be a lot harder than it was for your mom and me, don't you?"

It was a sobering comment, but not one Debra and I hadn't talked about. "I know, Dad," I said softly, clutching Debra's hand.

"And with Debra's job," Mom started, and then hesitated.

"It's no different than a firefighter, or policeman, or someone in the military," I replied.

Mom looked askance at Dad, and then back to the two of us. "We want you to be happy," she said, with Dad nodding in agreement. "And if Debra makes you happy ...."

It was as much a blessing of our relationship as I could have wished for. I bolted into Mom's arms, my cheeks already wet, and hugged her gratefully.

"Is this kind of a 'welcome to the family'?" Debra chuckled nervously.

Dad laughed, and then stood. Puzzled, she stood up too, and he swept her into a fatherly hug. "I don't know about that yet. But it does mean we trust you to not hurt Kayda."

"Thanks. I promise I won't hurt her," Debra vowed.

"Good. Now why don't we go get a caramel roll or two?" Dad asked. He and Debra started toward the door, but Mom held me in her arms.

When Dad and Debra were gone, Mom winced a bit. "I ... I don't quite know how to ... ask ... what I want to ask," she said haltingly.

I figured I knew what she was going to say, but to avoid any misunderstandings, I said, "Why don't you just ask?"

Mom bit her lip. "Have you two ...," she blushed, "you know?"

"No," I replied, gratified somehow that the subject was in the open. "Not in the real world. But ... in my dream world ...." I knew I was blushing, feeling the heat on my cheeks.

"I wouldn't have been surprised if you had," Mom added quickly. "I mean, I _know_ you ... you know ... when you were a boy."

"What?" My eyes were bugging out. I thought I'd kept things like that a secret from my parents.

Mom chuckled. "It was pretty easy to tell. Some nights, you came home with a silly grin, a half-vacant stare in your eyes, and more than a bit of a swagger in your step."

My skin was probably scarlet with embarrassment. I looked down, but she caught my chin and lifted it so I was looking eye-to-eye with her. "If you had ... done something, I wouldn't blame you for being curious. It's a natural part of being a teenager." I nodded dumbly, not knowing what to say.

"I would assume that since you two have ...."

"Had sex," I replied, trying to be calm.

"Yeah, had sex - in your dream world that you've probably ... touched yourself." She read my look of utter horror at the conversational topic. "It's okay, sweetie," she reassured me. "That's part of being a teenager, too."

"Are you sure you and Dad are okay that I'm ... a lesbian?" Funny - a conversation with my mother about me being a lesbian was a better alternative. Not surprising since the topic I was steering away from was masturbation.

Mom nodded, suppressing a chuckle. "You're my child," she assured me. "No matter what." She raised an eyebrow quizzically. "I suppose in a few weeks, when you turn sixteen, we'll have to set some new rules around here?"

My eyes popped wide open at that. "Mom!"

"What? It's not like we're going to stop you if you decide that you and Debra are going to have sex anyway." She chuckled at my horror-stricken expression. "I suppose if you two visit, you'll want to share a bed. But it'd be polite if you two wouldn't moan or scream in passion, or shake the ceiling when someone else is awake."

"Mother!" I cried, aghast at what she was saying. She was essentially giving me permission to have sex with Debra - in our house! And acting like it was no big deal.

"She's a sweet girl. Your father and I can tell you good she is for you." She chuckled again. "If you hadn't found anyone, I might have even tried playing matchmaker between the two of you after I got to know her. I was pretty damned certain that after what happened, you were never going to date any boys," she said, and then she winced, realizing too late that she'd implied some things about my ... incident. "Sorry, hon," she apologized quickly, pulling me into a hug.

A warm, motherly hug was just what I needed as my mind flashed through the horrible images. "Why ... why didn't you ...?" I started to ask, and had to stop because my voice choked.

"Oh, honey!" Mom replied, backing away just slightly so she could rest her forehead against mine and wipe at the tears on one cheek. "We ... we hoped ... that that you'd been knocked unconscious and hadn't remembered anything."

"But you knew?" I asked.

Mom nodded. "When we got there, one of the boys was ...." She didn't have to say any more. "I had to stop your dad from shooting them right then and there. I've never seen him so furious in my entire life."

"I ... I've had ... episodes," I stammered, my eyes downcast, "from ... physical contact. I ... panicked when Ito Soke tried to demonstrate something with me ... that I'd practiced over and over with the girls. Once," I sighed, shaking my head, "one of my classmates and I were coming out of an elevator at the same time, and we got squeezed together. I ... kind of collapsed and had a panic attack." I looked up and saw nothing but motherly love and sympathy and kindness in her eyes. "You told Mrs. Carson, didn't you?"

Not knowing what to say, Mom nodded.

"I figured as much," I said. My cheeks were thoroughly wet from my tears. "I ...." I had to stop for a moment because I wasn't quite sure what I was thinking, let alone what to say. Finally, some words came to me. "Thank you. For telling her." I read the puzzled expression on her face. "After ... my memories came back, when I realized that she knew, I hated her, because I felt like there was a time bomb in my head and she hadn't done anything to help me."

"And ...?" Mom prompted nervously.

I swallowed hard; this was a more difficult conversation than if we'd have only been talking about Debra and me and sex. "I ... was very angry. I felt like everyone had lied to me. I thought what you'd done was mean and wrong and ... and just leaving me ...." I had to stop as memories of that day flooded back to me. "I felt like she lied to me and didn't care, and I wanted to run away and leave Whateley and all of you and ... and even Debra."

Mom wrapped her arms tightly around me. "Honey," she said softly, soothingly, "I didn't know what else to do. I can't blame you for being angry at us."

"I know," I sniffled. "Mrs. Carson said pretty much the same thing."

"She's a wise, very caring woman," Mom said, holding me close and stroking my hair gently. "She called after you ... had an emotional event in her office."

I yanked back from her shoulder, my eyes wide. "What?" I was stunned.

"She called me," Mom repeated, "so I'd know what was going on with you. She had someone call me every time you had some kind of problem," she added.

I felt my eyes tearing again, this time from shame at how nasty I'd been to Mrs. Carson. And to Chief Delarose. And to Ito Soke and Sensei Tolman. Unlike what I'd thought, they _did_ care about me. Mom left me with a lot to think about.

* * * * * * * * * *

Thursday evening

We drove to Mitchell on Thursday, mostly so Addy could see the world's biggest piece of tourist kitsch, the Corn Palace. Topped by onion domes like a Russian church, the murals decorating its sides were made entirely of corn, thus giving the building its name. In truth, it was little more than a glorified arena and performance venue; we'd played a few basketball tournaments there, and my family and I had been to a few performances.

Mitchell really didn't have anything special for shopping, but there were a few tourist stores where Addy got a couple of postcards to send home, just like she'd done at Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse, and in Deadwood. No doubt one was going to her family, and the other would go to her friend Soeur Justice of the Bordeaux heroes group. The way Addy talked about the HGB and Soeur Justice, I was starting to really get excited about going to France that summer. If Mom and Dad would let me.

After dinner, the younger crowd - all of us but Mom and Dad - went out for a little stroll for a little exercise. Of course, Danny tagged along, still futilely trying to impress Valerie and making a pest of himself, even though he was so clearly making zero progress with her.

"He's just so ... clueless," I said softly to Debra as we walked, hand in hand.

"Yeah, but they're kind of cute when they fawn over a girl," Debra chuckled.

I shuddered at that comment; was that how boys at Whateley acted toward me? Was Delwin in my electronics class like that? "Ugh! I could _never_ get used to that!"

"How about some of the girls in Poe?" Debra giggled. "I suppose you feel the same about _them_ ogling and fawning over you?"

"They don't ...." I stopped short, realizing that some girls _did_ ogle me. With a heavy sigh, I admitted the truth to myself. "Yeah, guess they do."

"And you kind of like it, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I do." I felt a little embarrassed admitting it to Debra, let alone myself.

Debra smiled, pulling me close enough to wrap her arm around my waist. "It's okay. You can show off and flaunt that hot little body of yours all you want, just as long as you remember that you're mine."

I winced, thinking only of _one_ girl who was paying attention to me, and in an unwanted way. Debra felt my shoulders stiffen. "What?" she asked.

"It's kind of spooky how you do that," I replied. "Kind of like Mom and Dad seem to know what the other one is thinking."

"Like we're married, you mean?" Debra asked with a huge grin. "We _have_ spent a lot of time together in your dream-space, remember."

"Yeah," I said, instantly remembering all the fun we'd had dreaming together.

"It's Rosalyn, isn't it?" She squeezed my waist reassuringly. "Don't worry. Rosalyn is a huntress. She gets her thrills from the hunt and the conquest. She's _never_ settled into a long-term relationship. It's not in her nature."

"Oh." That sounded very comforting - sort of. "So since she got me to the hot-tub party, is she going to maybe give up?"

"You sound a little disappointed, sweetie," Debra replied.

I started at her words. Would I be disappointed if Rosalyn gave up? Really, deep down inside? "I ... I don't know." We took a few steps silently, overhearing the conversations ahead of us. "Maybe ... maybe I kind of like her attention," I finally said meekly. "It makes me feel ... like I'm ... wanted. Like I'm attractive."

Debra leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek. "If I was there, you'd _know_ how wanted and loved you are. But since I'm not, I understand - especially after all you went through. It's only natural that you want to feel like you're not broken."

I nodded my agreement. "And since there's no way in hell I'll ever be attracted to a boy, maybe subconsciously I feel a need to be attractive to other girls?"

"That, and you're probably very, very curious." She hugged me some more. "Should I call Rosalyn and have a chat with her?"

"No. I need to learn how to deal with things myself." I stopped suddenly, my senses alert. "Hold up," I urged the group.

"What?" Debra asked immediately, sensing my sudden mood change.

I shook my head. "I don't know. Something _feels_ wrong." I stretched out my senses, feeling with the earth and sky spirits. It only took a moment for me to locate the disturbances I'd felt. "Over there," I said, pointing to the tree line of the shelter belt around the farm yard.

Debra and Val peered into the darkness. "What? I don't see anything."

"I don't either," I replied, frowning. "It's like ...." Suddenly, the answer was obvious. I cast a spell, and the silver aura showed up around my friends as the ghost-walking spell took effect. Almost immediately, I spotted two faint glows in the tree line, and then a third. "There are at least three people ghost-walking in the trees."

Val immediately raised a magic shield around us as a precaution, while I stretched my magic senses toward the three. "It's Lakota magic," I announced. "I'm going to find out what's going on."

"I'm going with you," Debra announced firmly, clinging to me.

"No. I've got a combination spell that'll protect me and let me ghost walk. If you all come, they'll probably slip away."

"I don't like you going alone," Debra countered.

"I'll be okay," I assured her, patting her arm. Swallowing to contain my nerves, I strode purposefully toward the tree line, toward the spot where two of the figures huddled. They were men, I realized quickly, although I couldn't tell more. "Stand and let me see you!" I commanded in Lakota, playing on a hunch.

Hesitantly, the two men straightened from their crouched positions, revealing themselves to be dressed in traditional Lakota warrior's garb, with war paint on their faces. "Who are you?" I demanded, "And why are you watching us?"

The two men exchanged glances. "Our shaman told us that we were to watch you and protect you from danger, sacred one!" the first man answered.

"We know of the attacks on you," the second added, "and we are to prevent such a thing from happening again."

"You know who I am?" I asked, a little disconcerted. From their markings, if I read them correctly, they were ghost-walkers, an elite society of warriors, like the Navy Seals of the Lakota.

"You are Ptesanwi," the third man, having walked from his hiding place to me, replied easily. "You are the sacred one, the white buffalo calf woman.

"Your protection is appreciated, but not needed. My friends are superheroes."

"Our shaman, Gray Skies, gave us explicit instructions. We are to watch and protect you," the second man said, "while the others ...." He got an elbow in his ribs from the first man, and stopped speaking instantly.

I frowned. "The others ... what?"

"It is nothing," the first man said quickly.

I knew that there _was something, and so I manifested Ptesanwi. The men fell to their knees in awe at the display. "You will tell us."

"It is not permitted in our culture to shame a woman. Those who do so must be punished," the third man reluctantly admitted.

We frowned; we hadn't asked for a group - ghost-walkers if I interpreted their face paint correctly - to avenge the crime committed against us. "No. You will not do violence to those who committed the crime. We will allow the legal system to punish them."

"But Gray Skies said ...."

"Gray Skies is a shaman. We are Ptesanwi!" we said imperiously, even though in my heart I secretly like the thought of them getting revenge for what the guys had done to me. "You will _not_ take vengeance."

The men exchanged worried glances, and then nodded. "Very well, Ptesanwi. We will do as you say."

"Good." With that, we demanifested Ptesanwi and walked back to the group, dissipating my spells as I walked. Something nagged at me, though; they'd been adamant about avenging the crimes against me, but had then agreed to take no action very easily.

"What's going on?" Debra asked immediately, worry in her voice.

"They're ghost-walkers," I answered, "elite warriors, and their shaman told them to protect me while I'm here."

"You get your own bodyguard?" Danny asked, annoyed. "Sheesh. What next? Private limo?" I could tell he was more than a touch jealous.

"They said something about vengeance, but I ordered them not to do anything," I continued.

Julie's eyes lit up. "Ghost-walkers? And vengeance?" She nodded slowly as understanding sank in. "_That's_ how they were doing all of those things to the guys!"

"Yeah, but I told them no, so that should be over," I replied. I was eager to change the topic. "Who's up for a movie? Maybe 'The Holy Grail'?"

"Better'n a damned chick flick," Danny muttered under his breath. I had a feeling though, that if Val wanted to watch a romance or romance comedy, Danny would go along - just to impress her. I could tell from Debra's giggle that she felt the same. Poor kid - so smitten that he'd subject himself to a chick flick to impress a girl!

* * * * * * * * * *

Friday April 12, 2007 - late afternoon
Recreational lake near Kayda's hometown

Most of the kids in town had no idea of what I looked like, and though some were a little leery of Julie, the boys were certainly paying attention to Debra, Val, and Charge. Especially Charge with her charming French accent.

We sat at a picnic with our backs to the lake - out of paranoia more than anything, hoping against it but expecting trouble. And trouble came in the form of Skelly, who strutted through the park like he owned the place. As soon as he saw the other girls, he started to swagger toward our table, thinking that he was some kind of macho stud and that he'd score with these new, attractive babes. He pulled up short, however, as soon as he recognized me, and he blanched. Both anger and fear were present on his features and in the look in his eyes; the only question was what he'd do. "You!" he snarled angrily, and then he turned and practically ran, reaching into his pocket as he did so.

Boys pawed at my breasts, and at my crotch, as they tore clothes off me. I cried and pleaded for them to stop, but they ignored my pleas, choosing instead to hit me. Already, I was battered and bruised, and no doubt, had some broken bones from the fierce pounding I was taking, but my greatest fear was the leering looks I was receiving.

Skelly tipped his beer bottle and emptied it, and then with a contented sigh, he stepped toward me, his hands reaching for his waist. The 'zip' seemed unusually loud, and the look in his eyes was primal, both violent and lust-filled. I screamed, knowing exactly what he was going to do.

"Me first," Scott snarled at Skelly, stepping into view and grabbing at my now-bare boob. He cupped it, and then suddenly pinched hard, making me cry out in pain. I screamed again, but something was shoved into my mouth to gag me, and another rain of blows snapped a rib audibly.

"Kayda!" I heard a voice calling me as I struggled against the panic attack. Slowly, the world came back into focus. Debra and Addy were holding me up, talking gently to me to pull me out of my episode.

"We have to get you out of here," Debra said firmly. "Now."

"Do you girls _have_ to go so soon?" one of the boys trying to score points with Adalie asked plaintively. "The night's still young."

Debra didn't hesitate. "Yes, I'm afraid we do." She stood quickly, followed by the rest of us, and we headed for the parking lot. Around us, there were looks of disappointment on a lot of boys' faces, and a lot of bewilderment at my strange actions.

Not daring to hold my hand to steady me in this rural, redneck town with a high probability of anti-gay sentiments, Debra had to be content to walk by my side. For my part, I was shaking like a leaf. "We're going to the truck," Debra told me, half-guiding and half-carrying me to where I'd parked my pickup.

We only got about halfway there before two trucks came screeching up, sliding to a stop - one in front of us and one behind. I felt the panic renewing as I recognized the faces of the boys clambering out of the vehicles.

"You!" Scott said angrily, pointing a finger at me. "You've got a lot of nerve showing yourself in this town after what you've done!"

"After what Kayda did?" Debra snarled at him. Val was watching behind us, to prevent any sneak attacks as the angry boys moved to surround us. "You guys are the rapists! You guys attempted to kill her!"

"She's gene filth!" Bob March, one of Scott's friends and an accomplice to the crimes, snarled.

"Oh?" Val asked angrily. I don't know how she did it - I was busy fighting the renewed surge of panic that threatened to incapacitate me - but she was suddenly in her Card Trick superhero costume, and when I glanced, I saw Debra was in hers, too. "I suppose you think _we're_ gene filth, too, even though we're official superheroes?"

"Back off," Debra ordered sternly, "and let us pass."

"No," Scott spat angrily. "You're all gene filth." He turned back to his truck and pulled something from under the seat.

Something in me snapped. I was _not_ going to let myself be pushed around by these punks. Not again. They were _not_ going to control my reactions. I _had_ to fight the panic. I _was_ fighting the panic. I focused and put up a shield around our group.

Scott aimed his pistol at me and squeezed the trigger, but the .45 round splatted harmlessly against the energy barrier, making a nice, swirly fractal pattern as the shield dissipated the bullet's energy. Again and again, Scott fired, getting angrier and angrier as shot after shot bounced off the shield. Finally, the slide locked back, the gun empty. Snarling like an animal, the boy tossed his gun down and charged at us, intending to do with his fists what he hadn't with his gun.

His charge was apparently a trigger to the small group; they rushed us from all sides. Debra shot one of her power airbursts at them, sending three of the mob flying backwards, but they got right back to their feet, even angrier.

My vision was clouded with the red tinge of anger and the desire for vengeance. I dropped my spell and waded into the mob, ignoring Debra's pleas to stay calm. Rich took a swing at me, but alerted by the sky spirit, I ducked, using his momentum to throw him into a couple of attacking boys while simultaneously landing a few rabbit punches that were going to leave his kidneys very sore.

I dodged another blow, and counter-punched, smashing a jaw. Without knowing when I'd drawn it, my tomahawk was in my hand, and I hooked JJ's arm as he tried to swing, spinning him like I had in class, and smacking him on the shoulder blade with the flat of my weapon. I could have just as easily killed him.

A punch caught me by surprise, snapping my head to the side, but my tomahawk bit into the arm of Eric who was doing a follow-up blow, causing him to shriek in agony while the heel of my hand drove his jaw up and back. He collapsed on the ground, probably unconscious, because he was no longer crying in pain, despite the red stain on his shirt-sleeve and spreading to the ground.

Scott, having regained his feet after being knocked over by Debra's power burst, charged, grappling with me, his face a mask of rage. Caught by surprise, his bull-like charge knocked me off my feet to the ground. His fist coiled and smashed toward my face, a pile-driving blow intended to serious hurt or kill me. I dodged my head to the side twice, barely avoiding his hammer-like blows, as he tried to keep me pinned down while trying to administer a serious beat-down.

Clover's spell was simple, so I invoked in in milliseconds, pushing in extra essence, and as soon as I pushed my hand against Scott, a massive electrical shock coursed through him, causing him to convulse and collapse. Using my exemplar strength, I pushed the stunned boy off me and got to my feet, expecting another attack.

The fight, not surprisingly, was over. There had only been twelve or thirteen of them, against four mutants, two of whom were highly trained in martial arts, and the other two were learning. Most of the guys were down, not moving, with welts and bruises slowly appearing on their battered faces, and Val held a few others tangled in magic rope, trapped and unable to move. I looked around, satisfied, but when I saw Scott struggling to get back up, I angrily knelt down on his chest hard, my tomahawk in hand as rage tried to consume me.

"Kayda, no!" Debra urged, sensing my intent.

My love's words cut through my anger like a knife. I glanced at her, and then back down at the boy, bloodied and cowering, on the ground under my knee. "I should kill you for what you did to me!" I snarled at him. I raised my tomahawk, and as Debra once more cried out to stop me, my arm swung down.

I rose, leaving the tomahawk embedded in the ground beside the simpering boy's head. The entire group who'd been in the park was assembled in a semi-circle, a crowd looking on at the spectacle.

"This is Brahdon!" Skelly cried out to the crowd, holding his hand over his broken and profusely-bleeding nose, hoping to incite more of them to attack me. "The gede-filth that's been bessing with us!"

"You RAPED me!" I screamed back at him, turning and glaring at him with a visage that caused him to cower. "You bastards RAPED me!" Wakan Mila was in my hand, and I strode toward him, knife raised menacingly.

"Kayda," Debra said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and holding me firmly, "it's over." Over her voice, I heard sirens of approaching police.

Skelly grinned wickedly. "The sheriff 's going to have your ass, gede-scub!" he tried to snarl at me. But his half-grin faded when the two police cars that skidded to a halt bore the logos of the state police, not the county sheriff's office.

"Which one of you is Kayda Franks?" one officer asked.

Still trembling a bit, I took a half-step forward. "Me, officer."

Debra and Val stepped forward, presenting their credentials immediately. "Officer," Debra said, "we're with the Sioux Falls League, visiting friends in town." She gestured at the scattered semi-conscious, battered boys on the ground. "These ... young ... hooligans ... attacked Kayda and us. The leader, " she pointed at Scott, who was slowly sitting up, glancing fearfully at my tomahawk sticking out of the ground so near his skull, "tried to shoot her, and then incited the others to attack."

"You'll find his empty gun, recently fired, and empty shell casings as evidence," Val added.

"They attacked _us_!" Skelly snapped.

Scott nodded, adding, "We were minding our own business, and these mutants just attacked us - like we _all_ know they do!"

Rich was sitting on the ground, nursing his jaw with one arm while the other dangled at an odd angle. He looked like he'd been wrestling a grizzly bear; instead, he'd had a personal introduction to combat a la Debra. "No, they didn't," he admitted softly. "They," he said, looking directly at Scott, Skelly, and JJ, "started it." He sighed, dropping his gaze. "_We_ started it," he added, admitting that he was part of the group that had instigated the fight.

"Shut up!" Scott snarled at him.

"No, _you_ shut up!" Rich yelled back angrily, ignoring the glares of the group being herded together by the state police. "_You_ started all of this! All because you hate mutants! And you got all of us involved, too!" He tried to look at me, but failed to meet my stunned gaze, ashamed of what he was admitting. "You tried to kill her before, and you tried again! I don't want any part of it! Not anymore."

One of the four officers was tending to one boy's deep cut from my tomahawk. "We'll have to get him to a hospital, stat," he announced to his fellow troopers. "It looks like the cut hit his artery."

Debra squeezed my shoulder. "You _know_ you have to heal him."

"But ... he's one ... what he did ...." Tears trickled down my cheeks as the conflict within me raged. I was a shaman, a healer, and I had a duty. On the other hand, Eric was one that had tried to kill me _both_ times, and had raped me.

"Kayda," Debra said sternly, grasping my shoulders and turning me to face her, "you _can't_ let him bleed to death."

I looked into her eyes, and saw her practically begging me to heal Eric's arm, a gesture she knew would be very difficult for me. She also knew, I suspected, that it would be a way of me making a forgiving gesture to him and helping me rid myself of the anger I held.

It was twilight in my dream space, the eerie time ruled by shadows between daylight and night. I wondered if it was a sign of something. I wandered into the camp, sitting by Wakan Tanka at the fire pit. As expected, she offered me a cup of tea. Unusually, though she said nothing, but instead sat and sipped from her own cup.

"Wakan Tanka," I asked finally. "What do I do?"

My mentor looked me in the eyes. "I cannot tell you that, Wihakayda. You must do what _you_ think is right and necessary."

"It's a warrior's way to kill his enemies, isn't it?" I asked, knowing I was grasping at straws.

Wakan Tanka shook her head. "If that's what you believe, then you have no business being In'oka."

Her rebuke was like a slap in the face. "But ...."

"A warrior doesn't revel in stealing life. And a shaman doesn't let a wounded man die if his wounds can be bound and his life spared, even if he is of the enemy."

"I'm not _reveling_ in ...."

"Wihakayda," she interrupted me, "you _were_ relishing the battle. You delighted in injuring and defeating your enemies."

I stared at her, and as her words cut into my heart, I hung my head. She was right, as usual - I _had_ enjoyed putting a beat-down on the guys who'd beat and raped me. No matter how I tried to justify it to myself, it was revenge, plain and simple. If Debra hadn't stopped me, I probably would have buried my tomahawk in Scott's skull, killing him outright.

Looking down in shame at my vicious actions, I began to mix herbs from my medicine pouch. As the crowd was pressing close out of curiosity, I took a water bottle from one of the kids, and after slicing the top off with my knife, I incanted as I brewed the mixture.

"Open his ... shirt," I said, choking on the words. The last thing I wanted to see was more skin from one of my attackers. Nonetheless, it was necessary. After Julie had done that for me, I began to incant and mark him in the ritual way, feeling my essence flowing into his injuries. Finally, I marked his cut arm as the spell required, and I wobbled on my knees as the healing poured into the ghastly cut.

When I finished, I turned quickly and crawled a few steps from Eric, and promptly retched, emptying the contents of my stomach at having deliberately touched his body, at having healed one of my rapists. Debra knelt beside me, holding me up and whispering supportively to me as my guts churned and knotted, trying to expel things even though they were long-since empty.

In the middle of my puking my guts out, more vehicles skidded into the parking lot, and I heard a lot of angry shouting from men approaching. Debra leaned close to me. "A bunch of angry men just showed up. Local H1!?" she asked.

"Julie! Where the hell have you been?" Mr. Robinson's booming voice was unmistakable, as was the anger it contained.

Debra sprang from my side, and my concern for Julie pushed aside - at least temporarily - my stomach cramping. I lurched to my feet, closed my eyes a moment, and did a quick minor healing spell on myself, hoping it would calm my jangled nerves and settle my stomach.

Mr. Robinson, flanked by half a dozen of his cronies, stalked toward Julie, who, frightened for her very life, ducked behind Val and Debra.

"This is a crime scene," one of the state troopers said gruffly. "Leave."

"It's a free country," Mr. Robinson retorted. "Besides, I heard that a bunch of mutants were harassing and beating up some of our kids."

"The crime scene is under the jurisdiction of the state police. You _will_ leave. Now."

"I'm not leaving until I have my daughter. She has no right being here," Robinson snarled. "And since I'm her father, you can't stop me."

Debra stepped toward Mr. Robinson, pulling a document from a pouch on her waist belt. "Per an order from the department of Child Protective Services, Julie Robinson is in the temporary custody of the Sioux Falls League, pending a hearing into an accusation of child abuse. At that hearing, it will be determined whether your parental rights will be permanently revoked. This is your copy of the protective order which prohibits you from having any contact with Julie, and prohibits you from being within a radius of one hundred yards of her."

"Why, you ....!" Robinson started to scream, but two state police officers joined Debra, their hands on their service pistols.

"May I see that order, miss?" one of the officers asked Debra.

"Certainly." Without taking her eyes off Mr. Robinson and his retinue, she handed the order to the officer, who scanned it.

"Everything is in order." He handed the document to Mr. Robinson. "Now that you've been notified by a state officer of the court order, you have one minute to remove yourself or you will be arrested for violating that order."

Robinson glared at Debra and the rest of us, including the state police. While he was rabidly anti-mutant and an agitator, he was also smart enough to know when the deck was stacked against him. Grumbling angrily that 'this isn't over', he and his party climbed back into their vehicles and left - stopping about a hundred fifty yards away and watching us angrily.

It took over an hour for the state police to get statements from us - and get a list of witnesses. I didn't want to press any charges, preferring to just let things go, but as the attack had involved discharge of a firearm with intent to kill, and serious injuries, it wasn't my choice. One thing cheered me a little; as I looked around at the kids who were still watching, many of whom were giving or had given their statements, I saw some smiles directed my way. An image etched itself in my mind as I looked around; Rich momentarily met my gaze, his expression a mixture of shame and sadness, and then he dropped his eyes, as if acknowledging that he wouldn't blame me if I hated him, and that it was his own fault that he'd so horribly abused our past friendship.

On the ride home, Val drove, because I was shaking like a leaf. My nerves were completely shot, and though I'd avoided a PTSD collapse at the fight, I was now trying hard to not slip into a post-event panic attack. Debra held me close, comforting me, while I shook and cried. At least, as she mentioned over and over, some of the kids in town had rallied to my side, giving corroborating statements about the attack. Not all of the town hated us.

* * * * * * * * * *

Saturday, April 14, 2007

We had an early-morning meeting with the state police and the county's district attorney. They intended to fully prosecute Scott for felonious assault with a deadly weapon, and Scott, JJ, and Skelly for assault and inciting a riot, while the rest of the boys would face assault charges - except Rich. It was a little dismaying to realize that if Scott had shot at anyone else, the charge would have been attempted murder, but I overheard a couple of the DA's staff muttering among themselves that, "it's just a damned mutant. Their lives aren't worth much anyway." I managed to stay composed while we were in the meeting, but as soon as we left, I broke down, sobbing on Debra's shoulder what I'd heard them say. It was quite devastating emotionally to realize that I was a second-class citizen - at best - and that there was a large population in official positions that didn't give a damn about me just because I was a mutant.

Rich got off easy because heHe cut a bargain with the DA to plead guilty to a misdemeanor assault charge in exchange for testifying against Scott, JJ, and Skelly. If things went well, they'd only have to get testimony from Debra and Val, because, as superheroes licensed by the state of South Dakota, their testimony would carry a lot of weight. With the testimony of the other witnesses, it was unlikely that I'd have to take the stand against them, but I would have to be available if necessary. After the comments from the DA's staff, I realized that they didn't want me, a mutant, on the stand testifying for the prosecution. Debra and Val were superheroes, so they would have some credibility, but the anti-mutant fervor was strong enough that the DA didn't want to take a chance. _That_ knowledge hurt, too.

We drove back to Sioux Falls, arriving just in time to take the girls - and Danny - to what was becoming Debra's and Val's favorite Japanese restaurant. That was followed by some more shopping; Mom got all of us girls some Lakota-themed and Black Hills Gold earrings, and we picked up my supplies from the Native American store - lots of buckskin, beads, and sinew for sewing projects and a very large supply of herbs. Wakan Tanka knew I had more spells to learn, so she directed me to get more types of plants and herbs the new spells would require.

Danny, as we girls had predicted, tired very quickly of shopping with us, but every time Val glanced his way, he managed to force a smile as if he was enjoying himself. Despite Dad's grumbling, we spent almost the entire afternoon shopping, arriving back at the League headquarters just in time for a feast of a dinner.

I had hoped that they'd forgotten, but after dinner, the girls reminded me that I'd agreed to do another photo shoot. The calendar was selling like hotcakes, which I gruffly acknowledged that I knew, because the Whateley bookstore had sold out of an allotment of them - and the publicity was making life a little difficult. Debra and Wish List laughed at that, but Vanity Girl was a little more sympathetic. Her sympathy, however, didn't get me out of the photo shoot.

At first, the Sioux Falls League girls and I posed for dozens of pictures; they loaned me a mask, and they were all in costume, as their intent was a material promoting the League - and raising money. I groaned at the thought of another calendar at Whateley - and the adverse attention it would cause for me, but since I'd agreed, I did my part in the photos. They were hoping to have enough for a weekly calendar in addition to the standard monthly calendar, and no doubt there would be some posters, especially since the guys joined us for a few pictures.

Once those pics were done, the guys and Vanity Girl left in a hurry, which left us younger girls with a camera, time on our hands, and nothing else to do. We got rather playful in our pictures, including Addy, Julie, Val, Debra, and I in our dance costumes, me in my In'oka get-up, and several rather ... close ones with me and Debra. Addy, Julie, and I had a lot of fun doing cheesecake pictures; I intended to surprise Addy by getting one of the racier pictures made into a poster and conspiring with Alicia to hang it in her cottage room without her knowledge.

Embarrassingly, at one point when Debra and I were posing for a 'cuddle' photo, we started kissing, and it took the girls a while to get us to stop making out - after they'd taken a number of 'interesting' pictures. No doubt one of those would end up in my cottage room as an autographed picture or poster, too.

It was nice to spend time making out with Debra that evening while Addy and Julie showered. We had grudging approvalfrom Mom and Dad, even though we'd have to wait until we met again, at which point I'd be sixteen and legal. Because of that, we had to pry ourselves apart to go to our separate beds. Debra and Vanity Girl had planned our rooms well; if I'd have been rooming alone, I _would have_ slipped out in the middle of the night to frolic with Debra in her room. Having roommates was just enough to take the edge off the temptation.

* * * * * * * * * *

Whateley Academy, Sunday, April 15, 2007
Crystal Hall

Alicia, Addy, Evvie, Naomi, Adrian, Vasiliy and I sat at a table in the Crystal Hall, enjoying a little bit of late dessert. Some of our group hadn't yet returned, but we knew they'd be on the late flight into Berlin, and then on a shuttle back to campus.

"And after the fight with the wood elves," Addy bubbled, "we traveled to Kayda's 'ome. 'Er mother is a wonderful cook, and we 'ad desserts that were tres delicieux. She gave me two jars of 'er wonderful jelly."

"It sounds like you had a great time," Evvie acknowledged with a smile, like she had some secrets that she wasn't telling us.

"Oh, but then we 'ad another fight, in 'er 'hometown! Some of the boys that ... assaulted Kayda," she glanced at me to see that I wasn't upset, "tried to kill 'er again, and 'urt us! Kayda's shield spell protected us, but it made the boys furieux, and they attacked us!" She grinned. "I knocked one large boy out, and when another tried to grab me, I threw 'im, just like Sensei Ito taught us."

Alicia looked curiously at the two of us. "Y'all had fun beatin' up a bunch of boys, didn't you?"

Addy looked a little shocked, but then she grinned. "It is nice to know that the martial arts class isn't a total waste of time!"

"Are becoming enthusiastic fighter, I think," Vasiliy joked. "Big change from fall term." Addy replied very maturely - and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ah'm sure Sensei Ito will be delighted to hear that tomorrow," Alicia chuckled, eliciting a look of surprised shock from Addy.

"You ... wouldn't!" Addy practically begged.

"As long as y'all don't tell him about mah fight!" Alicia said with a smile.

"You 'ad a fight, too?"

"Yeah. Ah got kidnapped from an art museum by some art thieves. Only they weren't art thieves. One named Hexagon was after a paintin' that had some kind of demon-invoking spell on it, and he was goin' t' sacrifice _me_ to the demon!" Addy explained.

"Mon dieu! 'Ow did you get away?"

"Ah was rescued by a supervillain art thief named Imp," Addy explained. "Twice, actually. For a supervillain, she was real nice. While Ah was hidin' out with her in her apartment, she taught me some paintin'." She smiled. "She's real good. And a lot o' fun."

Addy and the others prompted Alicia for more details of her story, which Alicia was glad to supply. It wasn't clear how much had actually happened and how much was a little 'artistic license' and embellishment by Alicia. Vasiliy grumbled that he didn't get to blow up anything during _his_ vacation, and Adrian had just played tourist in Boston because his parents were back in England and he didn't want the hassles of an international flight. Naomi had spent a restful week at her parents' house. When everyone was done with their various adventures, we all agreed,that Alicia had the most interesting vacation, but also that Addy and I had come in second.

"The best part," I chimed in, "is that Dad arranged things so my horse will be here sometime tomorrow." I grinned. "Hopefully during BMA so I can get out of class."

"Only because you _know_ that some'ow, Ito will have the security reports and know of your fight, and will want you to demonstrate."

"Don't you _dare_ tell him!" I scolded Addy.

"Moi?" she asked innocently. "Things aren't nearly so exciting in France. You'll see this summer, when we go there."

"Ma think's it's a great idea!" Alicia said enthusiastically. "Ah cain't wait!" She looked at me. "How about you?"

"Mom seemed okay with the idea, but Dad ... he was being a little protective."

"Dads can be protective of their daughters," Evvie said with a chuckle, "but in my case, it's my Mom that's the paranoid one!"

"He'll come around, you'll see," Alicia smiled.

"I'm looking forward to visiting Kayda's 'ome again," Addy said wistfully. "'Er family is wonderful. They made me feel like part of the family."

"And you'll be treated the same way," I promised Alicia.

Addy pulled out her cell phone. "You 'ave to see these!" she said gleefully. In short order, she was showing the gang the photos we'd taken with the Sioux Falls League, excluding - fortunately for me - the rather naughty ones I'd taken with Debra.

"Seems like y'all were havin' a pretty good time there," Alicia said, staring enviously at Addy.

I glanced at Addy. "Remember, you promised you wouldn't show the ... bad ones ... to anyone else," I cautioned Addy. "Or I might remember a little conversation ...."

"Mais oui," Addy said quickly. "No-one else will see these pictures. I promise."

"Bad ones?" Vasiliy asked, his curiosity stoked.

"Some of them came out looking ... awkward or bad," I lied quickly to cover. "Not at all flattering."

"Oh. Thought you were going to say some were risque," he said, half grumbling.

I felt my cheeks redden, because I knew some were very daring - like some of the semi-nude ones with me and Debra.

Alicia looked at the two of us, frowning. "There's some story y'all aren't tellin' me," she said with a scowl. "And Ah _will_ find out what it is!"

After more vacation comparisons, I walked back to Poe, careful to keep my shield spell active - just in case. Back in my room, I sat at my computer and looked at the pictures on my memory stick. I had far more pictures than Addy; she didn't have the more intimate photos of me and Debra. As I flipped through them, I saw one particularly fetching picture. With a wicked smile, I clicked and sent it to my printer, and then carefully folded it, placing it in an envelope, writing on the envelope, and walking downstairs. Nobody was around; many of the students hadn't yet arrived back on campus, so the mailroom was empty. Grinning, I slipped the envelope into one particular mailbox, and then, whistling, I sauntered back upstairs. I had a lot of homework to do, and I had to write a lesson plan and a test for Ayla in pre-calc, but I could easily finish that and still leave myself with a lot of time to call Debra.

* * * * * * * * * *

HPARC - Black Hills, South Dakota

The increase in natural energy flow into the cavern was minuscule, but it was enough. Unhcegila slowly stretched his massive, ugly, misshapen body, working out over a century of stiff kinks.

"Son," he directed his thought energy into the rock.

"Yes, father," the third son of Unhcegila thought back.

"You did well to restrain yourself when _she_ was here."

"She is a threat to you," the son answered.

"If you had tried to attack her, she would realize that I'm awake, and would come for me. As weak as I am, she would slay me quickly. It is more important that you complete your task so I can grow strong again."

"Yes, father."

Unhcegila concentrated more. "Son?" he asked again, focusing on his second son.

"Yes, father?"

"What have you to report?"

"I missed her by mere hours," he thought angrily. "If I'd have been quicker, I could have ...."

"She is far stronger than you give her credit for," Unhcegila replied angrily. "Your brother underestimated her. Do not make the same mistake."

"Yes father."

"Have you found the sacred sphere?"

"No. But I am finding clues. The shaman of the Sicangu knows it is kept by another shaman called Gray Skies, as it has been for ages."

"Then locate this Gray Skies and retrieve the sphere. And you must leave no witnesses," Unhcegila added. "No-one must know that you have found the sphere."

"It shall be done, father."

Unhcegila paused to draw in more energy. What he wanted to do next would be far more difficult than communicating with his sons; after all, they shared a paternal bond. No, this next one would take everything he had.

"Kigatilik!" he called out when he had enough energy saved up.

Eventually, a booming though echoed through Unhcegila's head. "Who dares to call me?"

"It is I, Unhcegila," the snake demon replied. "I have something for you."

"Bah!" Kigatilik replied. "What could you have that would interest me?"

"I know where there are powerful shamans," Unhcegila tempted the Inuit shaman-hunting demon.

"There are no more shamans. Few, anyway. And they are weak! Not worth the bother to hunt," Kigatilik snorted in reply. "I rest. Another shaman will come, and I will hunt and devour him." There was a chuckle through the astral plane, a disquieting, booming thunder. "The last one almost escaped me, but not before I consumed part of his mind. He wandered onto the ice, wearing some silly, colorful shirt, and when I found him, he was babbling about a sunny beach, even though he was half-frozen. He was delicious!"

"I know of two very powerful shamans."

"I have no interest in leaving my home," Kigatilik replied angrily.

"Not even for the one who holds the spirit of _the_ Iroquois shaman? Or the one who holds the spirit of Ptesanwi?"

"Where would I find these shamans?" Kigatilik asked after a pause. "And why do you care if I hunt them?"

Unhcegila smiled to himself. "They seek those like you and me," he answered, "and I would rather that they didn't kill me. Together, we can eliminate the threat, and then we can ravage the People and get the respect and power we deserve!"

"Tell me where to find them," Kigatilik said, sounding like he was licking his chops in anticipation.

* * * * * * * * * *

Inuit Village, Alaska

The shaman Tikaani sat, cross-legged, in his dwelling, cooking a simple meal over a simple whale-fat fire. It was the traditional way, and he was not about to give in to the modern conveniences that defied the countless centuries of tradition of his people.

As he sat, tending the cooking and meditating, he felt a thunder echoing through his dream world. Alarmed, he invoked a quick spell, an incantation of protection.

The young boy in the dwelling noticed his father stiffen suddenly and unexpectedly. "What is it, father?"

The shaman drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I heard thunder in the mountain," he said simply.

"What does it mean?" the boy asked.

The shaman looked at his son, a somber expression on his face. "It means ... Kigatilik has awakened."

* * * * * * * * * *

Epilogue

>Whateley Academy
Monday, April 16, 2007

As expected, Rosalyn was my escort to classes. Sighing, I set out with her from Poe. "I need to stop by Schuster," I informed my tormenter.

"What's up? It's not serious, is it?" Rosalyn asked, concerned.

"No, I'm going to get in trouble and arrange detention for myself for the night of the hot-tub party," I deadpanned, drawing a momentary look of shock from her.

"You!" she said, slapping my arm playfully after she realized I was teasing.

"I need to leave a message for a teacher, and I need to set up an appointment," I explained, not going into details.

"Okay." We walked a bit. "Are you getting excited about the hot tub party?"

I shook my head. "You aren't giving up, are you? In answer, yes, I'll be there next Wednesday. But it's not a date."

"Good." She took another few steps beside me. "Oh, did I mention? We had a conflict with the hot-tub, so the party had to be rescheduled again. It's on Thursday, the 26th."

My jaw practically hit the ground. "What?"

"We had a conflict. So we had to reschedule it. That won't cause a problem, will it? You _will_ be done with the Nations meeting, and since the party is _after_ curfew ...."

"That's ... that's my ... birthday!" I sputtered.

"Oh, is it? My, what a strange coincidence," Rosalyn said, sounding sweet and innocent, but the gleam in her eyes betrayed her act.

"You ... you did that on purpose!" I accused her, frowning angrily.

"Who, me?" Rosalyn asked sweetly. We arrived at Schuster Hall. "I've got to run now, so I'll see you later. Have a nice day."

After I took care of my errands in Schuster, I went to my first-period avatars class. After some of my experiences the previous week of Spring Break, some of the day's material was quite interesting, and germane.

I went next to Martial Arts, and as I walked onto the mat, Sensei Tolman intercepted me. "Kayda."

"Yes, Sensei?" I replied formally.

"Are you sure about this?" She sounded concerned. Actually, I realized that she sounded like she always did, but now I recognized it as concern on her part.

I nodded, feeling myself trembling. "I ... I think so."

"Very well. Go to the center ring." She walked beside me, stopping at the edge of the sparring circle.

There were murmurs of bewilderment that I was starting class as part of a sparring match; that _never_ happened before. The other students knew I had some issues. The murmurs turned to gasps of shock when Hank came out of the boys' locker room and strode confidently to the other side of the sparring circle. Hank was a heavy-hitter, and I'm sure everyone wondered why he was here - and evidently sparring against me."

A collective gasp went through the students seated by the ring. I had _never_ sparred with a guy, and even during very controlled demonstrations with Sensei Ito, I'd had panic attacks. I gulped nervously; despite reassuring Sensei Tolman that I was ready for this, I really wasn't sure.

Sensei Ito looked at me, and then turned to Hank. "You will not use your powers, Lancer. Understood?"

"Yes, Ito Soke," Hank replied.

We walked to the center and bowed, and then, after backing to the edge of the circle again, Ito said, "Hajime!"

I'd never seen him fight before, so I didn't know quite what to expect. He was good, but without the extra boost of his powers, it was like fighting a baseline - mostly. When the earth and sky spirits told me of his impending moves, I dodged, and then attempted to throw him. An attempt at grasping him resulted in me being hit and tossed down, but I sprang up before he could take advantage of my fall. We traded attacks, with me mostly blocking them, but a few had slipped through. I was going to have one hell of a bruise on my thigh for a while. He attempted to kick me high on my chest, but I ducked to a crouch and did a foot sweep, knocking him off balance. But he was quicker than I realized, and as I moved in, I found myself suddenly in a grapple.

The panic started to come to me again, a blind, paralyzing fear. This time, though, I knew it was out there, and I fought back against it. That mental struggle, though, was highly distracting, and Hank managed to throw me, and then before I could roll out of the way, he got me in an arm bar, where I was helpless. After a moment of struggling in vain, I slapped the mat. I was trembling fiercely, barely able to control the incipient panic.

We rose, and bowed again, and I was ready to go back to my spot, but Ito stopped me. "Kayda has been learning an interesting Native American fighting style," he said. "Since Lancer's PK field is impenetrable, Kayda will demonstrate her weapons."

Tolman came to my side, handing me two tomahawks, with exposed blades. I goggled at that, but she smiled. "Lancer tested these, and they can't penetrate his field." She looked at my hand as I took them, seeing my shaking. "Are you okay with this?"

I swallowed hard again, and then nodded slightly. "I know they can't hurt a PK brick. Which only shows how weak I am against them."

Tolman chuckled. "For now. You'll learn, though." She handed me a sheath with a training knife in it. "You'll want your backup knife, I presume?"

When I was ready, I went back to the edge of the circle. "Hajime."

Hank moved warily toward me, so I decided to not let him have the advantage of the first move. I dashed toward him, one tomahawk held high and the other at waist level. Seeing my attack coming, he charged to get inside my weapons' range quickly, striking toward my head as he did so.

I knew to expect a combo of some kind, and as one tomahawk slashed up against his punching arm, deflecting it, the other swung low, meeting the expected kick. I didn’t dawdle, but instead spun, catching him off balance. The blade smacked into his shoulder with a force that, had he not had a PK field, would have left his arm useless and bloody. All the while, I fought against panic, which threatened to overwhelm me if I let it get the slightest foothold on my mind.

Hank attacked again, and I used the crook of the tomahawk, to pull him off balance, directly toward me and a vicious uppercut with the second tomahawk. I barely heard the gasps and whimpers from the students; they could tell that the only thing that was keeping Hank in one piece was his PK field. My combination tomahawk attacks were that fast and wicked.

After a couple of minutes of frenzied sparring, Ito called a halt to the fight. I was so mentally preoccupied fighting my panic that I didn't hear him. Sensei Tolman rushed in to catch my arm as I was about to swing again. "Kayda," she said firmly, "Yame! It's over."

The word sank into my brain slowly, and I lowered my arm. Slowly at first, and with increasing intensity, I started shaking, trembling mightily as the panic was no longer pushed aside by adrenaline. Sensei Tolman noticed. "Charge, Headrush!"

My two friends were at my side in an instant, both talking soothingly to me and helping me calm down. They walked me back to my place, and, one on either side to reassure me, we knelt down, while all the other kids stared at me in shock, both at the ferocity of my attack and my post-fight panic attack.

"You probably thought that Kayda's weapons were too primitive to be effective," Ito said to the students. "Who thinks now that they're ineffective or not dangerous?" No-one raised their hand or uttered even a whisper. They were still probably in shock over how well I'd used my weapons.

To my utter shock - and probably Ito's as well - Addy and Alicia both wanted to spar with Hank. Alicia and Addy even borrowed the tomahawks for a sparring match, and though they'd had far less training than me and weren't not nearly as skilled, they acquitted herself reasonably well. I suspected that Mr. Two Knives' tutoring was going to get a lot more interest from students.

After class, Ito and Tolman called me over while the others went to the locker rooms. "I have reports of your ... incidents ... from Spring Break," Ito said, his expression impassive. "You were able to fight boys without having a panic attack."

"Yes, Sensei," I said, not quite sure what is point was, nor willing to volunteer any information.

"According to the report of the fight from your hometown," Ito continued, "you nearly lost control, viciously attacking the boys who ... had assaulted you."

"Yes, Sensei."

"And if you hadn't been restrained, you might have killed one of them."

I simply nodded, my gaze lowered. It wasn't exactly something to be proud of.

"You need to control yourself in those situations. Losing control can lead to losing a fight. Or worse."

"Yes, Sensei." He wasn't saying anything that I didn't already know.

"Your fighting style with the weapons is ... interesting. Is there a name for it?"

I nodded. "In'oka. Fighting like the badger spirit."

"I think you rather shocked some of the students with that attack style," Sensei Tolman said with a smile. She motioned for me to walk with her toward the locker room. "Your initiative in setting up a fight with Lancer is a good sign of your progress. We will proceed slowly, so you will need to either arrange trusted sparring partners for the next few weeks, or keep me informed of your comfort level with various partners from the class. Okay?"

I nodded. "Yes, Sensei." I ducked into the locker room, where girls were still changing. Instantly, the conversation turned to me and my fighting style with the tomahawks. It was nice to get some positive attention. I also expected that word of my little demonstration was going to get out very quickly, and that some people might now think twice about attacking me. Especially if I carried my tomahawks visibly. And that might not be such a bad thing. After showering, I reapplied my In'oka paint, proud of my status as the Sicangu's Zuya Wikhoskalaka, the warrior girl. Though I still had a lot to learn, I felt like a true warrior. I was In'oka.

Kayda 3 - Two Spirits

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Kayda 3 - Two Spirits: Chapter 1 - Oyate

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A Whateley Academy Adventure

Kayda 3: Two Spirits

Chapter 1 - Oyate (the Nations)

by ElrodW

END OF PART 1

Kayda 3 - Two Spirits: Chapter 2 Ichimani (the Travelers)

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Kayda 3 - Two Spirits: Chapter 3 - Zuya Wikhoskalaka

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Chapter 3 - Zuya Wikhoskalaka (Warrior Girl)

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Epilogue

END OF KAYDA 3