empty room.
Seconds after he was gone, Edward walked slowly into the kitchen, raindrops glistening like diamonds set
into the bronze of his hair. His eyes were wary.
“Did you two get into a fight?” he asked.
“Edward!” I sang, throwing myself at him.
“Hi, there.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “Are you trying to distract me? It’s working.”
“No, I didn’t fight with Jacob. Much. Why?”
“I was just wondering why you stabbed him. Not that I object.” With his chin, he gestured to the knife on
the counter.
“Dang! I thought I got everything.”
I pulled away from him and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach.
“I didn’t stab him,” I explained as I worked. “He forgot he had a knife in his hand.”
Edward chuckled. “That’s not nearly as fun as the way I imagined it.”
“Be nice.”
He took a big envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I got your mail.”
“Anything good?”
“I think so.”
My eyes narrowed suspiciously at his tone. I went to investigate.
He’d folded the legal-sized envelope in half. I smoothed it open, surprised at the weight of the expensive
paper, and read the return address.
“Dartmouth? Is this a joke?”
“I’m sure it’s an acceptance. It looks exactly like mine.”
“Good grief, Edward — what did you do?”
“I sent in your application, that’s all.”
“I may not be Dartmouth material, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that.”
“Dartmouth seems to think that you’re Dartmouth material.”
I took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten. “That’s very generous of them,” I finally said. “However,
accepted or not, there is still the minor matter of tuition. I can’t afford it, and I’m not letting you throw away
enough money to buy yourself another sports car just so that I can pretend to go to Dartmouth next year.”
“I don’t need another sports car. And you don’t have to pretend anything,” he murmured. “One year of
college wouldn’t kill you. Maybe you’d even like it. Just think about it, Bella. Imagine how excited Charlie and
Renée would be. . . .”
His velvet voice painted the picture in my head before I could block it. Of course Charlie would explode
with pride — no one in the town of Forks would be able to escape the fallout from his excitement. And Renée
would be hysterical with joy at my triumph — though she’d swear she wasn’t at all surprised. . . .
I tried to shake the image out of my head. “Edward. I’m worried about living through graduation, let alone
this summer or next fall.”
His arms wrapped around me again. “No one is going to hurt you. You have all the time in the world.”
I sighed. “I’m mailing the contents of my bank account to Alaska tomorrow. It’s all the alibi I need. It’s far
enough away that Charlie won’t expect a visit until Christmas at the earliest. And I’m sure I’ll think of some
excuse by then. You know,” I teased halfheartedly, “this whole secrecy and deception thing is kind of a pain.”
Edward’s expression hardened. “It gets easier. After a few decades, everyone you know is dead.
Problem solved.”
I flinched.
“Sorry, that was harsh.”
I stared down at the big white envelope, not seeing it. “But still true.”
“If I get this resolved, whatever it is we’re dealing with, will you please consider waiting?”
“Nope.”
“Always so stubborn.”
“Yep.”
The washing machine thumped and stuttered to a halt.
“Stupid piece of junk,” I muttered as I pulled away from him. I moved the one small towel that had
unbalanced the otherwise empty machine, and started it again.
“This reminds me,” I said. “Could you ask Alice what she did with my stuff when she cleaned my room? I
can’t find it anywhere.”
He looked at me with confused eyes. “Alice cleaned your room?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what she was doing. When she came to get my pajamas and pillow and stuff to hold
me hostage.” I glowered at him briefly. “She picked up everything that was lying around, my shirts, my socks,
and I don’t know where she put them.”
Edward continued to look confused for one short moment, and then, abruptly, he was rigid.
“When did you notice your things were missing?”
“When I got back from the fake slumber party. Why?”
“I don’t think Alice took anything. Not your clothes, or your pillow. The things that were taken, these
were things you’d worn . . . and touched . . . and slept on?”
“Yes. What is it, Edward?”
His expression was strained. “Things with your scent.”
“Oh!”
We stared into each others eyes for a long moment.
“My visitor,” I muttered.
“He was gathering traces . . . evidence. To prove that he’d found you?”
“Why?” I whispered.
“I don’t know. But, Bella, I swear I will find out. I will.”
“I know you will,” I said, laying my head against his chest. Leaning there, I felt his phone vibrate in his
pocket.
He pulled out his phone and glanced at the number. “Just the person I need to talk to,” he murmured, and
then he flipped it open. “Carlisle, I —” He broke off and listened, his face taut with concentration for a few
minutes. “I’ll check it out. Listen . . .”
He explained about my missing things, but from the side I was hearing, it sounded like Carlisle had no
insights for us.
“Maybe I’ll go . . . ,” Edward said, trailing off as his eyes drifted toward me. “Maybe not. Don’t let
Emmett go alone, you know how he gets. At least ask Alice keep an eye on things. We’ll figure this out later.”
He snapped the phone shut. “Where’s the paper?” he asked me.
“Um, I’m not sure. Why?”
“I need to see something. Did Charlie already throw it out?”
“Maybe. . . .”
Edward disappeared.
He was back in half a second, new diamonds in his hair, a wet newspaper in his hands. He spread it out
on the table, his eyes scanning quickly across the headlines. He leaned in, intent on something he was reading,
one finger tracing passages that interested him most.
“Carlisle’s right . . . yes . . . very sloppy. Young and crazed? Or a death wish?” he muttered to himself.
I went to peek over his shoulder.
The headline of the Seattle Times read: “Murder Epidemic Continues — Police Have No New Leads.”
It was almost the same story Charlie had been complaining about a few weeks ago — the big-city
violence that was pushing Seattle up the national murder hot-spot list. It wasn’t exactly the same story, though.
The numbers were a lot higher.
“It’s getting worse,” I murmured.
He frowned. “Altogether out of control. This can’t be the work of just one newborn vampire. What’s
going on? It’s as if they’ve never heard of the Volturi. Which is possible, I guess. No one has explained the
rules to them . . . so who is creating them, then?”
“The Volturi?” I repeated, shuddering.
“This is exactly the kind of thing they routinely wipe out — immortals who threaten to expose us. They just
cleaned up a mess like this a few years ago in Atlanta, and it hadn’t gotten nearly this bad. They will intervene
soon, very soon, unless we can find some way to calm the situation. I’d really rather they didn’t come to
Seattle just now. As long as they’re this close . . . they might decide to check on you.”
I shuddered again. “What can we do?”
“We need to know more before we can decide that. Perhaps if we can talk to these young ones, explain
the rules, it can be resolved peacefully.” He frowned, like he didn’t think the chances of that were good.
“We’ll wait until Alice has an idea of what’s going on. . . . We don’t want to step in until it’s absolutely
necessary. After all, it’s not our responsibility. But it’s good we have Jasper,” he added, almost to himself. “If
we are dealing with newborns, he’ll be helpful.”
“Jasper? Why?”
Edward smiled darkly. “Jasper is sort of an expert on young vampires.”
“What do you mean, an expert?”
“You’ll have to ask him — the story is involved.”
“What a mess,” I mumbled.
“It does feel that way, doesn’t it? Like it’s coming at us from all sides these days.” He sighed. “Do you
ever think that your life might be easier if you weren’t in love with me?”
“Maybe. It wouldn’t be much of a life, though.”
“For me,” he amended quietly. “And now, I suppose,” he continued with a wry smile, “you have
something you want to ask me?”
I stared at him blankly. “I do?”
“Or maybe not.” He grinned. “I was rather under the impression that you’d promised to ask my
permission to go to some kind of werewolf soirée tonight.”
“Eavesdropping again?”
He grinned. “Just a bit, at the very end.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to ask you anyway. I figured you had enough to stress about.”
He put his hand under my chin, and held my face so that he could read my eyes. “Would you like to go?”
“It’s no big thing. Don’t worry about it.”
“You don’t have to ask my permission, Bella. I’m not your father — thank heaven for that. Perhaps you
should ask Charlie, though.”
“But you know Charlie will say yes.”
“I do have a bit more insight into his probable answer than most people would, it’s true.”
I just stared at him, trying to understand what he wanted, and trying to put out of my mind the yearning I
felt to go to La Push so that I wouldn’t be swayed by my own wishes. It was stupid to want to go hang out
with a bunch of big idiot wolf-boys right now when there was so much that was frightening and unexplained
going on. Of course, that was exactly why I wanted to go. I wanted to escape the death threats, for just a few
hours . . . to be the less-mature, more-reckless Bella who could laugh it off with Jacob, if only briefly. But that
didn’t matter.
“Bella,” Edward said. “I told you that I was going to be reasonable and trust your judgment. I meant that.
If you trust the werewolves, then I’m not going to worry about them.”
“Wow,” I said, as I had last night.
“And Jacob’s right — about one thing, anyway — a pack of werewolves ought to be enough to protect
even you for one evening.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Only . . .”
I braced myself.
“I hope you won’t mind taking a few precautions? Allowing me to drive you to the boundary line, for one.
And then taking a cell phone, so that I’ll know when to pick you up?”
“That sounds . . . very reasonable.”
“Excellent.”
He smiled at me, and I could see no trace of apprehension in his jewel-like eyes.
To no one’s surprise, Charlie had no problem at all with me going to La Push for a bonfire. Jacob crowed
with undisguised exultation when I called to give him the news, and he seemed eager enough to embrace
Edward’s safety measures. He promised to meet us at the line between territories at six.
I had decided, after a short internal debate, that I would not sell my motorcycle. I would take it back to
La Push where it belonged and, when I no longer needed it anymore . . . well, then, I would insist that Jacob
profit from his work somehow. He could sell it or give it to a friend. It didn’t matter to me.
Tonight seemed like a good opportunity to return the bike to Jacob’s garage. As gloomy as I was feeling
about things lately, every day seemed like a possible last chance. I didn’t have time to procrastinate any task,
no matter how minor.
Edward only nodded when I explained what I wanted, but I thought I saw a flicker of consternation in his
eyes, and I knew he was no happier about the idea of me on a motorcycle than Charlie was.
I followed him back to his house, to the garage where I’d left the bike. It wasn’t until I pulled the truck in
and got out that I realized the consternation might not be entirely about my safety this time.
Next to my little antique motorcycle, overshadowing it, was another vehicle. To call this other vehicle a
motorcycle hardly seemed fair, since it didn’t seem to belong to the same family as my suddenly shabby-
looking bike.
It was big and sleek and silver and — even totally motionless — it looked fast.
“What is that?”
“Nothing,” Edward murmured.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
Edward’s expression was casual; he seemed determined to blow it off. “Well, I didn’t know if you were
going to forgive your friend, or he you, and I wondered if you would still want to ride your bike anyway. It
sounded like it was something that you enjoyed. I thought I could go with you, if you wished.” He shrugged.
I stared at the beautiful machine. Beside it, my bike looked like a broken tricycle. I felt a sudden wave of
sadness when I realized that this was not a bad analogy for the way I probably looked next to Edward.
“I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you,” I whispered.
Edward put his hand under my chin and pulled my face around so that he could see it straight on. With one
finger, he tried to push the corner of my mouth up.
“I’d keep pace with you, Bella.”
“That wouldn’t be much fun for you.”
“Of course it would, if we were together.”
I bit my lip and imagined it for a moment. “Edward, if you thought I was going too fast or losing control of
the bike or something, what would you do?”
He hesitated, obviously trying to find the right answer. I knew the truth: he’d find some way to save me
before I crashed.
Then he smiled. It looked effortless, except for the tiny defensive tightening of his eyes.
“This is something you do with Jacob. I see that now.”
“It’s just that, well, I don’t slow him down so much, you know. I could try, I guess. . . .”
I eyed the silver motorcycle doubtfully.
“Don’t worry about it,” Edward said, and then he laughed lightly. “I saw Jasper admiring it. Perhaps it’s
time he discovered a new way to travel. After all, Alice has her Porsche now.”
“Edward, I —”
He interrupted me with a quick kiss. “I said not to worry. But would you do something for me?”
“Whatever you need,” I promised quickly.
He dropped my face and leaned over the far side of the big motorcycle, retrieving something he had
stashed there.
He came back with one object that was black and shapeless, and another that was red and easily
identifiable.
“Please?” he asked, flashing the crooked smile that always destroyed my resistance.
I took the red helmet, weighing it in my hands. “I’ll look stupid.”
“No, you’ll look smart. Smart enough not to get yourself hurt.” He threw the black thing, whatever it was,
over his arm and then took my face in his hands. “There are things between my hands right now that I can’t
live without. You could take care of them.”
“Okay, fine. What’s that other thing?” I asked suspiciously.
He laughed and shook out some kind of padded jacket. “It’s a riding jacket. I hear road rash is quite
uncomfortable, not that I would know myself.”
He held it out for me. With a deep sigh, I flipped my hair back and stuffed the helmet on my head. Then I
shoved my arms through the sleeves of the jacket. He zipped me in, a smile playing around the corners of his
lips, and took a step back.
I felt bulky.
“Be honest, how hideous do I look?”
He took another step back and pursed his lips.
“That bad, huh?” I muttered.
“No, no, Bella. Actually . . .” he seemed to be struggling for the right word. “You look . . . sexy.”
I laughed out loud. “Right.”
“Very sexy, really.”
“You are just saying that so that I’ll wear it,” I said. “But that’s okay. You’re right, it’s smarter.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. “You’re silly. I suppose that’s part of
your charm. Though, I’ll admit it, this helmet does have its drawbacks.”
And then he pulled the helmet off so that he could kiss me.
As Edward drove me toward La Push a little while later, I realized that this unprecedented situation felt oddly
familiar. It took me a moment of thought to pinpoint the source of the déjà vu.
“You know what this reminds me of?” I asked. “It’s just like when I was a kid and Renée would pass me
off to Charlie for the summer. I feel like a seven-year-old.”
Edward laughed.
I didn’t mention it out loud, but the biggest difference between the two circumstances was that Renée and
Charlie had been on better terms.
About halfway to La Push, we rounded the corner and found Jacob leaning against the side of the red
Volkswagen he’d built for himself out of scraps. Jacob’s carefully neutral expression dissolved into a smile
when I waved from the front seat.
Edward parked the Volvo thirty yards away.
“Call me whenever you’re ready to come home,” he said. “And I’ll be here.”
“I won’t be out late,” I promised.
Edward pulled the bike and my new gear out of the trunk of his car — I’d been quite impressed that it had
all fit. But it wasn’t so hard to manage when you were strong enough to juggle full-sized vans, let alone small
motorcycles.
Jacob watched, making no move to approach, his smile gone and his dark eyes indecipherable.
I tucked the helmet under my arm and threw the jacket across the seat.
“Do you have it all?” Edward asked.
“No problem,” I assured him.
He sighed and leaned toward me. I turned my face up for a goodbye peck, but Edward took me by
surprise, fastening his arms tightly around me and kissing me with as much enthusiasm as he had in the garage
— before long, I was gasping for air.
Edward laughed quietly at something, and then let me go.
“Goodbye,” he said. “I really do like the jacket.”
As I turned away from him, I thought I saw a flash of something in his eyes that I wasn’t supposed to see.
I couldn’t tell for sure what it was exactly. Worry, maybe. For a second I thought it was panic. But I was
probably just making something out of nothing, as usual.
I could feel his eyes on my back as I pushed my bike toward the invisible vampire-werewolf treaty line to
meet Jacob.
“What’s all that?” Jacob called to me, his voice wary, scrutinizing the motorcycle with an enigmatic
expression.
“I thought I should put this back where it belongs,” I told him.
He pondered that for one short second, and then his wide smile stretched across his face.
I knew the exact point that I was in werewolf territory because Jacob shoved away from his car and loped
quickly over to me, closing the distance in three long strides. He took the bike from me, balanced it on the
kickstand, and grabbed me up in another vice-tight hug.
I heard the Volvo’s engine growl, and I struggled to get free.
“Cut it out, Jake!” I gasped breathlessly.
He laughed and set me down. I turned to wave goodbye, but the silver car was already disappearing
around the curve in the road.
“Nice,” I commented, allowing some acid to leak into my voice.
His eyes widened in false innocence. “What?”
“He’s being pretty dang pleasant about this; you don’t need to push your luck.”
He laughed again, louder than before — he found what I’d said very funny indeed. I tried to see the joke
as he walked around the Rabbit to hold my door open for me.
“Bella,” he finally said — still chuckling — as he shut the door behind me, “you can’t push what you don’t
have.”
11. LEGENDS
“ARE YOU GONNA EAT THAT HOT DOG?” PAUL ASKED JAcob, his eyes locked on the last remnant of the huge
meal the werewolves had consumed.
Jacob leaned back against my knees and toyed with the hot dog he had spitted on a straightened wire
hanger; the flames at the edge of the bonfire licked along its blistered skin. He heaved a sigh and patted his
stomach. It was somehow still flat, though I’d lost count of how many hot dogs he’d eaten after his tenth. Not
to mention the super-sized bag of chips or the two-liter bottle of root beer.
“I guess,” Jake said slowly. “I’m so full I’m about to puke, but I think I can force it down. I won’t enjoy it
at all, though.” He sighed again sadly.
Despite the fact that Paul had eaten at least as much as Jacob, he glowered and his hands balled up into
fists.
“Sheesh.” Jacob laughed. “Kidding, Paul. Here.”
He flipped the homemade skewer across the circle. I expected it to land hot-dog-first in the sand, but Paul
caught it neatly on the right end without difficulty.
Hanging out with no one but extremely dexterous people all the time was going to give me a complex.
“Thanks, man,” Paul said, already over his brief fit of temper.
The fire crackled, settling lower toward the sand. Sparks blew up in a sudden puff of brilliant orange
against the black sky. Funny, I hadn’t noticed that the sun had set. For the first time, I wondered how late it
had gotten. I’d lost track of time completely.
It was easier being with my Quileute friends than I’d expected.
While Jacob and I had dropped off my bike at the garage — and he had admitted ruefully that the helmet
was a good idea that he should have thought of himself — I’d started to worry about showing up with him at
the bonfire, wondering if the werewolves would consider me a traitor now. Would they be angry with Jacob
for inviting me? Would I ruin the party?
But when Jacob had towed me out of the forest to the clifftop meeting place — where the fire already
roared brighter than the cloud-obscured sun — it had all been very casual and light.
“Hey, vampire girl!” Embry had greeted me loudly. Quil had jumped up to give me a high five and kiss me
on the cheek. Emily had squeezed my hand when we’d sat on the cool stone ground beside her and Sam.
Other than a few teasing complaints — mostly by Paul — about keeping the bloodsucker stench
downwind, I was treated like someone who belonged.
It wasn’t just kids in attendance, either. Billy was here, his wheelchair stationed at what seemed the natural
head of the circle. Beside him on a folding lawn chair, looking quite brittle, was Quil’s ancient, white-haired
grandfather, Old Quil. Sue Clearwater, widow of Charlie’s friend Harry, had a chair on his other side; her two
children, Leah and Seth, were also there, sitting on the ground like the rest of us. This surprised me, but all
three were clearly in on the secret now. From the way Billy and Old Quil spoke to Sue, it sounded to me like
she’d taken Harry’s place on the council. Did that make her children automatic members of La Push’s most
secret society?
I wondered how horrible it was for Leah to sit across the circle from Sam and Emily. Her lovely face
betrayed no emotion, but she never looked away from the flames. Looking at the perfection of Leah’s
features, I couldn’t help but compare them to Emily’s ruined face. What did Leah think of Emily’s scars, now
that she knew the truth behind them? Did it seem like justice in her eyes?
Little Seth Clearwater wasn’t so little anymore. With his huge, happy grin and his long, gangly build, he
reminded me very much of a younger Jacob. The resemblance made me smile, and then sigh. Was Seth
doomed to have his life change as drastically as the rest of these boys? Was that future why he and his family
were allowed to be here?
The whole pack was there: Sam with his Emily, Paul, Embry, Quil, and Jared with Kim, the girl he’d
imprinted upon.
My first impression of Kim was that she was a nice girl, a little shy, and a little plain. She had a wide face,
mostly cheekbones, with eyes too small to balance them out. Her nose and mouth were both too broad for
traditional beauty. Her flat black hair was thin and wispy in the wind that never seemed to let up atop the cliff.
That was my first impression. But after a few hours of watching Jared watch Kim, I could no longer find
anything plain about the girl.
The way he stared at her! It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Like a collector finding
an undiscovered Da Vinci, like a mother looking into the face of her newborn child.
His wondering eyes made me see new things about her — how her skin looked like russet-colored silk in
the firelight, how the shape of her lips was a perfect double curve, how white her teeth were against them, how
long her eyelashes were, brushing her cheek when she looked down.
Kim’s skin sometimes darkened when she met Jared’s awed gaze, and her eyes would drop as if in
embarrassment, but she had a hard time keeping her eyes away from his for any length of time.
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 thiswill 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 vigilantin 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.
