Read Bone Walker: Book III of the Anasazi Mysteries for Free Online Page B

and black. Ghosts walk among the flaking plaster walls. I have seen the charred wreckage of Northern Town, its ceilings fallen in ruin. Corn does not grow in the weed-filled fields we have crossed coming here.” He kicked at the dry gray silt. “You have ditches here, Matron, but in other parts of the country corn needs rain. Since the fall of the First People, it has gone away. My clan, my people, we believe that it is because we have failed in Poor Singer’s prophecy.”
    “A Fire Dog who cares about Poor Singer’s prophecy?” Blue Corn said incredulously. “How can this be?”
    Gray Thunder cocked his head. “Have you lost so much? Don’t you know that Poor Singer was captured—”
    Blue Corn replied, “We haven’t lost our sense when it comes to dealing with Fire Dogs! Do not tempt me to kill you!”
    Gray Thunder smiled. “Matron, I am already dead. I have even seen the manner of it in a Dream. You cannot frighten me by—”
    “Then be good enough to tell us why you are here?”
    “I am trying, Matron,” Gray Thunder pleaded. “You see, your people have apparently forgotten that Poor Singer was taken captive by the Great War Chief, Jay Bird. Many among my people heard and believed the words of Poor Singer and Cornsilk.”
    “Why would a Fire Dog listen to anyone from the Straight Path Nation?” The old woman sounded slightly less certain of herself.
    “May we talk to Matron Flame Carrier?” Gray Thunder asked plaintively. “We have come a long way at great risk to ourselves. If, after we have talked to Flame
Carrier, you are dissatisfied, you may do with us as you will.”
    The warriors beside Gray Thunder shot him uneasy glances. He made a calming motion with his hand.
    The old woman on the wall sighed. “Gray Thunder, that’s what you are called?”
    “I am.”
    “No matter what your motives, or how badly you would like to talk to Matron Flame Carrier, she will not hear you, and given your accent, that might be just as well.”
    “I do not understand, will you not even—”
    The old woman raised an arm to cut him off. “You have come too late, Gray Thunder. Matron Flame Carrier is dead. She was murdered earlier this moon.”
    He cast a dispirited glance at the old man, who had finally caught his breath and straightened. A subtle communication passed between them, and Gray Thunder hesitated. “Matron, you claim that Flame Carrier is dead, yet you use her name. Does that not frighten you? Don’t you fear that you will call her back from her journey to the Land of the Dead?”
    Had he caught her in a lie? Was Flame Carrier really dead? The Straight Path People never spoke the names of their freshly dead for fear of drawing the ghosts back to this world.
    “We only refrain from speaking the person’s name for four days, Fire Dog, while the soul is on its journey to the Land of the Dead. Besides, there are those who say Flame Carrier did not die.” Disbelieving humor laced Blue Corn’s voice. “The story has come down from the north that, upon her death, she became a katsina and flew up to join the Cloud People.”
    Gray Thunder and the old man exchanged glances again. “Who told you this?”
    “A Trader, a man who was there and saw it. His name is Old Pigeontail.”
    “Then …” Gray Thunder frowned. “What of the Katsinas’ People? Do they still exist?”
    “Until the Flute Player warriors manage to kill them off. And, from the looks of things, that might not be so long in coming.”
    Gray Thunder nodded, and said, “We would ask for your hospitality, Matron. In the name of the … of the katsinas. We would speak to the leader of the Katsinas’ People, whoever she is.”
    “Why should I trust you?”
    Frustrated, Gray Thunder said, “Matron, think! The First People are gone. War is everywhere. We have passed party after party of refugees. Drought lies upon the land like a curse and Wind Baby whines through desolate cornfields, whipping the dust into spirals. The wasting