Watching them, I felt like I better understood what Jacob had told me about imprinting before — it’s hard to resist that level of commitment and adoration.
Kim was nodding off now against Jared’s chest, his arms around her. I imagined she would be very warm there.
“It’s getting late,” I murmured to Jacob.
“Don’t start that yet,” Jacob whispered back — though certainly half the group here had hearing sensitive enough to hear us anyway. “The best part is coming.”
“What’s the best part? You swallowing an entire cow whole?”
Jacob chuckled his low, throaty laugh. “No. That’s the finale. We didn’t meet just to eat through a week’s worth of food. This is technically a council meeting. It’s Quil’s first time, and he hasn’t heard the stories yet. Well, he’s heard them, but this will be the first time he knows they’re true. That tends to make a guy pay closer attention. Kim and Seth and Leah are all first-timers, too.”
“Stories?”
Jacob scooted back beside me, where I rested against a low ridge of rock. He put his arm over my shoulder and spoke even lower into my ear.
“The histories we always thought were legends,” he said. “The stories of how we came to be. The first is the story of the spirit warriors.”
It was almost as if Jacob’s soft whisper was the introduction. The atmosphere changed abruptly around the low-burning fire. Paul and Embry sat up straighter. Jared nudged Kim and then pulled her gently upright.
Emily produced a spiral-bound notebook and a pen, looking exactly like a student set for an important lecture. Sam twisted just slightly beside her — so that he was facing the same direction as Old Quil, who was on his other side — and suddenly I realized that the elders of the council here were not three, but four in number.
Leah Clearwater, her face still a beautiful and emotionless mask, closed her eyes — not like she was tired, but as if to help her concentration. Her brother leaned in toward the elders eagerly.
The fire crackled, sending another explosion of sparks glittering up against the night.
Billy cleared his throat, and, with no more introduction than his son’s whisper, began telling the story in his rich, deep voice. The words poured out with precision, as if he knew them by heart, but also with feeling and a subtle rhythm. Like poetry performed by its author.
“The Quileutes have been a small people from the beginning,” Billy said. “And we are a small people still, but we have never disappeared. This is because there has always been magic in our blood. It wasn’t always the magic of shape-shifting — that came later. First, we were spirit warriors.”
Never before had I recognized the ring of majesty that was in Billy Black’s voice, though I realized now that this authority had always been there.
Emily’s pen sprinted across the sheets of paper as she tried to keep up with him.
“In the beginning, the tribe settled in this harbor and became skilled ship builders and fishermen. But the tribe was small, and the harbor was rich in fish. There were others who coveted our land, and we were too small to hold it. A larger tribe moved against us, and we took to our ships to escape them.
“Kaheleha was not the first spirit warrior, but we do not remember the stories that came before his. We do not remember who was the first to discover this power, or how it had been used before this crisis. Kaheleha was the first great Spirit Chief in our history. In this emergency, Kaheleha used the magic to defend our land.
“He and all his warriors left the ship — not their bodies, but their spirits. Their women watched over the bodies and the waves, and the men took their spirits back to our harbor.
“They could not physically touch the enemy tribe, but they had other ways. The stories tell us that they could blow fierce winds into their enemy’s camps; they could make a great screaming in the wind that terrified their foes. The stories also tell us that the animals could see the spirit warriors and understand them; the animals would do their bidding.
“Kaheleha took his spirit army and wreaked havoc on the intruders. This invading tribe had packs of big, thick-furred dogs that they used to pull their sleds in the frozen north. The spirit warriors turned the dogs against their masters and then brought a mighty infestation of bats up from the cliff caverns. They used the screaming wind to aid the dogs in confusing the men. The dogs and bats won. The survivors scattered, calling our harbor a cursed place. The dogs ran wild when the spirit warriors released them. The Quileutes returned to their bodies and their wives, victorious.
“The other nearby tribes, the Hohs and the Makahs, made treaties with the Quileutes. They wanted nothing to do with our magic. We lived in peace with them. When an enemy came against us, the spirit warriors would drive them off.
“Generations passed. Then came the last great Spirit Chief, Taha Aki. He was known for his wisdom, and for being a man of peace. The people lived well and content in his care.
“But there was one man, Utlapa, who was not content.”
A low hiss ran around the fire. I was too slow to see where it came from. Billy ignored it and went on with the legend.
“Utlapa was one of Chief Taha Aki’s strongest spirit warriors — a powerful man, but a grasping man, too. He thought the people should use their magic to expand their lands, to enslave the Hohs and the Makahs and build an empire.
“Now, when the warriors were their spirit selves, they knew each other’s thoughts. Taha Aki saw what Utlapa dreamed, and was angry with Utlapa. Utlapa was commanded to leave the people, and never use his spirit self again. Utlapa was a strong man, but the chief’s warriors outnumbered him. He had no choice but to leave. The furious outcast hid in the forest nearby, waiting for a chance to get revenge against the chief.
“Even in times of peace, the Spirit Chief was vigilant in protecting his people. Often, he would go to a sacred, secret place in the mountains. He would leave his body behind and sweep down through the forests and along the coast, making sure no threat approached.
“One day when Taha Aki left to perform this duty, Utlapa followed. At first, Utlapa simply planned to kill the chief, but this plan had its drawbacks. Surely the spirit warriors would seek to destroy him, and they could follow faster than he could escape. As he hid in the rocks and watched the chief prepare to leave his body, another plan occurred to him.
“Taha Aki left his body in the secret place and flew with the winds to keep watch over his people. Utlapa waited until he was sure the chief had traveled some distance with his spirit self.
“Taha Aki knew it the instant that Utlapa had joined him in the spirit world, and he also knew Utlapa’s murderous plan. He raced back to his secret place, but even the winds weren’t fast enough to save him. When he returned, his body was already gone. Utlapa’s body lay abandoned, but Utlapa had not left Taha Aki with an escape — he had cut his own body’s throat with Taha Aki’s hands.
“Taha Aki followed his body down the mountain. He screamed at Utlapa, but Utlapa ignored him as if he were mere wind.
“Taha Aki watched with despair as Utlapa took his place as chief of the Quileutes. For a few weeks, Utlapa did nothing but make sure that everyone believed he was Taha Aki. Then the changes began — Utlapa’s first edict was to forbid any warrior to enter the spirit world. He claimed that he’d had a vision of danger, but really he was afraid. He knew that Taha Aki would be waiting for the chance to tell his story. Utlapa was also afraid to enter the spirit world himself, knowing Taha Aki would quickly claim his body. So his dreams of conquest with a spirit warrior army were impossible, and he sought to content himself with ruling over the tribe. He became a burden — seeking privileges that Taha Aki had never requested, refusing to work alongside his warriors, taking a young second wife and then a third, though Taha Aki’s wife lived on — something unheard of in the tribe. Taha Aki watched in helpless fury.
“Eventually, Taha Aki tried to kill his body to save the tribe from Utlapa’s excesses. He brought a fierce wolf down from the mountains, but Utlapa hid behind his warriors. When the wolf killed a young man who was protecting the false chief, Taha Aki felt horrible grief. He ordered the wolf away.
“All the stories tell us that it was no easy thing to be a spirit warrior. It was more frightening than exhilarating to be freed from one’s body. This is why they only used their magic in times of need. The chief’s solitary journeys to keep watch were a burden and a sacrifice. Being bodiless was disorienting, uncomfortable, horrifying. Taha Aki had been away from his body for so long at this point that he was in agony. He felt he was doomed — never to cross over to the final land where his ancestors waited, stuck in this torturous nothingness forever.
