Kira felt herself falling. She hated when dreams started this way. It was hard to gain control. Putting out her hands she felt the rock wall of the narrow canyon. The rock came into view, and she could see a ledge coming up at her quickly. She caught the edge of it and came to an immediate halt. Finding a path, she climbed down the rest of the wall and ran down the slot to the larger canyon floor. The stars and a sliver of the moon lit the sand more than they should have. It was the half-light of the dream.
Just before reaching the fields, where the canyon became more of a walled valley, she came to a familiar wall of bristle tail that grew on the creek bank. The dew soaked bristletail was a gateway to her father’s dream. She stepped through and was knocked sideways by a blast of wind. She stood on stone in a valley of red pillars. Thunder boomed in the valley. Lightening flashed along the rim of the cliffs that rose up far to her right.
She continued forward, trying to find her father through the darkness and the blowing sand. He would be at the center of the dream, and if she entered at the edge of his dream circle, he must be directly ahead. She just hoped the circle was not very large. A flash of lightening lit up a pillar of stone directly ahead. Her father was standing on top. He seemed to be talking.
A blur, like a shadow or smoke, hovered in front of him. Kira moved closer and the shadow seemed to look more like a person. She looked again at her father. What does he see? She concentrated. The shadow took on a more solid form. A person not as tall as Kira’s father stood in front of him. The person wore a teacher’s cloak with her hood dropped back, and though Kira couldn’t tell clearly from where she stood, it looked to be a woman.
“Father,” Kira yelled. Her father didn’t acknowledge her. Another flash of lightening revealed her father and the woman talking – probably louder than normal to hear each other over the wind and thunder. Kira moved closer, and cupping her hands at the sides of her mouth, she yelled, “Father!”
This time, Jornatha turned and looked at her. The woman also turned, and a flash of lightening lit up her face for a moment. She was very old, older than anyone Kira could remember seeing in Hochonal. Her hair had gone completely gold with age. The woman stared at Kira for a moment then turned back to Jornatha, and pointing at Kira, said something Kira could not hear.
Jornatha turned and beckoned Kira to come up to him. She ran to the base of the pillar. But could find no holds to climb up. She circled round it, finding nothing but smooth rock. It wasn’t that high – three or four good holds and she could be on top.
“Just be on top,” her father’s voice said in her ear.
She jumped and almost fell over. Her father was standing next her. Then he was gone in a blink. She looked up, and he was again looking down at her from the top of the pillar.
She felt a bit foolish at forgetting how he had taught her to move through a dream. She pictured herself standing up there on top of the pillar. Instantly she was beside her father facing the old woman. The air was calm here and no longer tugged at her.
The woman stared at Kira for a moment as if sizing her up then asked, “What do you see?”
Kira hesitated for a moment because the question seemed so obvious. “A woman,” she replied.
The woman’s eyes penetrated Kira, not in a fearful way but as though her very look had power in it. “Am I a young woman?”
Kira didn’t know if she should laugh at the joke, but instead simply shook her head.
The woman smirked as if she did indeed see the jest, finally lifting her penetrating gaze from Kira. “Jornatha, did you create this link? Did you bring her here and open her sight to see me?”
“You know that is not a talent I possess.”
“How old are you, child?”
Kira looked to her father, wondering about this stranger who took such an interest in her. At her father’s nod she said, “twenty-one.”
The woman looked back to Kira’s father, a stern reproach in her gaze. “How long?”
“I think that...”
“How long?” Her voice rose.
“Just over a year,” he said. “We will be coming once the peak of the harvest has turned.”
“Sooner, if you please. Expect a teacher soon.”
The woman looked back to Kira, and the stern look she had given Kira’s father faded. Then, ever so gently, her face lifted in a smile. “May the stars guide you child,” the woman said and faded away.
Kira’s father put his arm around her and pulled her close. “This may not be a safe place for you,” he said.
“Who was that woman?” Kira asked.
“An old friend from another time.” From his tone, Kira knew he would tell her nothing more of the stranger.
“Why have you chosen such a stormy dream? Where are your grassy fields covered with flowers?”
“This dream chose me,” her father said. “It reflects concerns that weigh on my mind.”
“What concerns?”
“I do not know yet. I must have seen signs that brought this storm to my inner mind. Kurmach echoed them with his troubled tone today. Now I hear them from faraway places. Something momentous is happening, momentous and troubling.”
Bits of rain spit down, and lightening flashed three times in close succession. Kira was certain that the lightening was moving closer as the thunder crashed with the flash of light.
Kira’s father moved her behind him and turned to face the storm. As Kira looked down, she saw three deer dart past the pillar. Even the animals had sense enough to run from this storm.
As the wind hit the pillar, she peered around her father squinting her eyes to look into the blowing sand and rain. The clouds seemed to be rolling down on them, lightening crashing on other pillars all around them.
Her father stood against the storm as solid as the stone they were standing on. Raising his arms, he spoke so low Kira could barely hear him, “Here I am.”
The wind that had been whipping Kira’s hair and tearing at her clothes faded to a stillness again – just around her. She stepped sideways around her father and looked up at him. The wind and the rain were focusing on him. The storm was funneling into his open arms. Kira almost grabbed hold of him as lightening split the sky and danced across his arms and face. His composure never changed. A look of serenity and a slight smile belied the vicious battle Kira seemed to be witnessing. Soon the rolling clouds were being drawn into his embrace at a faster and faster pace. Then the storm was gone as if it had never been.
Slowly, Kira’s father lowered his arms. After a moment, he turned to her with a kind smile.
She saw the lightening still flashing in his eyes. Dreams may mirror reality, but they could also be very unreal. “Do you feel the storm inside you?”
Her father nodded.
“Does it hurt?”
Her father laughed. “Accepting my own storms can be a little painful, but it gives me a power I can take back with me when I wake.”
She felt the warmth of sunshine on her cheek. She reached for her hood out of habit, but realized she didn’t need it here.
She looked around to see a brightly lit mountainside full of wildflowers. Three deer stood not far from her, grazing on the tall green grass. She could swear they were the same deer she had seen running from the storm.
She stepped away from her father to look at the refreshing vision he had created. “Now this is the kind of place I want to visit in my dreams,” she said.
“Spend all the time you like. Learn it. Make it yours. For me, I just need some rest.” Her father laid down on the grass with his hands behind his head. The lightning flashed again in his eyes before he closed them.
Kira knew he would keep the dream going a while longer. She picked a blue flower and held it up in front of her. Concentrating on it, she thought that it should be yellow, and it turned yellow. She laughed. Then blowing on it as she let go, she watched it spin off into the meadow.
She knew that she needed to rest too. Laying down on the grass, she closed her eyes and slept.
Kira woke to the sound of a gentle rain on the roof. Not the kind of rain that filled the canyons and cut them off from reaching some of their fields – this was the light, life-giving rain that urged their crops to grow, that left a sweet smell of green living things hanging in the air.
Kira rose and dressed quickly so she wouldn’t miss a walk in the rain before she had to start her chores. Hochonal was busy with activity and full of smiles in the morning shower. She ran across the village to where Matusu stood outside his house rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Matusu,” Kira called. “Let’s climb up on the rocks and watch the rain coat the village.”
“You want me to climb up slippery rocks and sit in the rain to watch stuff get wet?” Matusu asked.
“Yes,” Kira said, not holding back her smile.
“Sounds fun.”
Kira knew he really wanted to go. They often climbed the rocks to see a glowing sunset or watch the activity below. Anything was better than standing around waiting to be told to strip logs or make rope or carry heavy pots of clay and water.
Going up on the rocks behind the village wasn’t really climbing – it was more of an uphill walk over boulders that looked as though they’d been smashed together like great balls of red dough. The path was worn and polished by all the Hochonal children who had climbed and sat on these very stones.
The village was protected by two walls of stone. The one they were on and one on the south side of the village. The north and east sides of the village dropped off steeply into the wide canyon where they planted their crops and drew water.
On the southern wall stood the village calendar. A small round house with holes in the walls and markings carved in the floor. It told them when to plant and when to harvest. Village leaders also used it to count the years. It was now 97 years since the founding of Hochonal and 751 years since the founding of Thresdenal.
From where they sat, Kira and Matusu could see down the canyon to where men were already working in the fields despite the rain. The fields ran down the canyon filling it along both sides of the creek and continued around a bend in the canyon, out of Kira’s view. Kira could just make out her father down near the bend working at planting a field. Her uncle worked beside him. They had left their shirts and hoods behind today, letting the rain cleanse them as they worked, while the heavy cloud cover blocked them from the sun.
Movement drew Kira’s attention to the top of the far canyon wall. A person was standing there looking over the fields. Another person appeared, and they began moving down the narrow trail cut into the side of the canyon. Soon, more people appeared and one by one the line grew as dozens of people followed the narrow trail toward the men working in the field. The men in the field appeared not to have noticed the approaching visitors.