Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

I started slowly across the lot, as though something drew me to the waiting man. He watched me with the same serenity as he'd done last night when he'd wiped away the lightning mesh with a negligent swipe of his hand.

Was he a god? Or the child of a god, like me? A Changer, in truth? Or simply a powerful entity who'd decided to hang out near my hotel?

I halted a few yards away from him, deciding it prudent not to get too close. "Are you Navajo?" I asked.

He answered me in the Diné language. "Not necessarily."

"Are you here for a reason?"

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "What has happened to hospitality in the young? Or kindness to strangers? You have not learned your grandmother's lessons."

"Strangers too often want to destroy my hotel or hurt my friends," I told him. "Or me. Why were you so handy last night to stop the lightning? Maybe because you caused it yourself?"

The smile reached his mouth. "So very suspicious. It is sad that you cannot look upon the world and revel in its wonders."

"Because those wonders often want to kill me." I took a couple steps closer, still wary. "Sorry if I don't open my arms to every potentially dangerous person who appears out of the blue."

The man gave me a shrug. "I was passing. This place intrigued me. As did you. It is an old crossroads, an intersection between the magical and the ordinary. You built a hotel on it." He apparently found this amusing.

"I didn't build it," I explained. "It's been here for a century or so. I restored it."

"Why did you?"

I often asked myself that question. The derelict pile had called to me, and I'd accepted the challenge.

I knew there had been more to it than that. The vortexes had reached for me, their intense magic coercing me. But even after I'd acknowledged that no coincidence had brought me here, I'd stayed.

This place was a part of me now. It was close enough to my home in Many Farms that I could get there quickly, but far enough that I could live my own life, more or less.

"It was something to do," I said impatiently. "I'd love some answers from you. Why do you find me so interesting?"

"Is that a serious question?" His dark eyes focused sharply on me. "You've brought creatures here who would never dwell together in any other circumstances. Now they dine with one another in your saloon. Dragons, witches, Changers, goddesses. You've made them your family." His grin spread across his face, rendering him still more handsome. "It's fascinating."

"I didn't have a lot of choice," I said tightly.

"Didn't you? You could leave all this." He swept out a long arm, taking in the hotel, the desert, Barry's bar, and the highway crossroads beyond it. "Return to your small house in Many Farms, or travel the world, as you prefer. You could do anything you wanted to, Stormwalker. Yet, you stay. You protect others, often at the cost to yourself."

"What, I should let them die? Say, too bad, my friends, that monsters are attacking you, but I have other places to be?" I forced myself to calm. "You know a hell of a lot about me, but who are you ?" I'd had an idea last night, and I was growing more certain of it by the minute.

"Maybe you should get that," he said.

I blinked at the non-sequitur. "What?"

The next instant, my cell phone buzzed in my back pocket. I jumped and pulled it out, then studied the caller's name in dismay.

I swiped to answer. "Good morning," I said as politely as I could.

My grandmother's voice boomed through the speaker. "Janet. I need you back here right away. Bring the egg. And tell that old crow to come with you." Click.

The screen went dark. I looked up at the man, who watched me with humor in his dark eyes.

"By that old crow , she means you, doesn't she?" I asked.

"Your grandmother is very flattering." He sent me another beatific smile. "Shall we ride? I have a motorcycle here. Much less tiring than flying."

I had so many questions, beginning with how my grandmother knew I had a dragon egg and ending with why the crow-man was really here. His story of happening to pass and becoming interested in the hotel was so much bullshit.

Answers would have to wait. When Grandmother told me to come home, I went. No delay.

I told Cassandra where I was going and then retrieved the egg, still snuggled under the bathroom sink. I grabbed more towels to stuff around the shell so it wouldn't be knocked about in my saddlebag and carried it to my motorcycle.

I settled the egg and wheeled my bike out of the shed. The crow-man pulled up smoothly beside me on his own motorcycle as I started the engine. He'd tied his hair back and donned a helmet and gloves, looking like an ordinary guy out for a ride on his sleek Harley.

"Do you have a name?" I asked him.

"I have many names." A typical answer from the mysteriously magical. "You can call me Nitis."

That was a Diné name, which more or less meant friend . Not his real moniker, but entities liked to be enigmatic.

"Whatever," I said. "I can't ride too fast today." I had no intention of wiping out and shattering the egg.

"A wise course." Nitis nodded to the saddle bag. "We will keep it safe."

I gave up trying to figure him out. I'd take him to Grandmother, and she'd pull the truth out of him, if she didn't know it already.

It was a beautiful morning for a ride, I had to admit. The March air was cool but not cold—the heat that would strike us by mid-April had yet to arrive. The back highway to the 40 was almost empty, and we rode side-by-side, a couple of bikers enjoying the road.

As the crow flew, it was a hundred miles to Many Farms. As the crow rode, it was about a hundred and forty. We sped down the interstate, flying past Holbrook and through the Petrified Forest area to turn north on the 191.

The beauty of the Navajo Nation reached to me as we entered it, valleys in various shades of pink and blue stretching to jagged mountains on the horizon. We slowed for horses that wandered by the side of the road and once had to stop, north of Chinle, while a flock of sheep trotted across the highway.

It was just after noon by the time we rolled through Many Farms, the small community that had been my childhood home. I'd tried to leave it many times, believing my destiny lay in the wider world. Somehow, it always drew me back.

Nitis pulled next to me as we turned up the dirt drive to the small yellow house amid a painfully neat but unadorned yard. I'd hoped my father would be here—my main tug homeward—but didn't see his truck.

The door opened, and Grandmother stepped out onto the small front porch. She didn't call a greeting, only stood waiting as Nitis and I dismounted our motorcycles.

Nitis removed his helmet and hung it behind his seat. He stood in place, the afternoon breeze stirring his variegated hair, and gazed at Grandmother, who stared straight back at him.

I wasn't certain whether to wait until one of them blinked or hurry inside, ignoring them. I opened the saddlebag to find the egg bouncing in its nest, as though the little dragon had enjoyed the ride.

"Humph," Grandmother called to Nitis. "Is that the best you could do?"

Nitis's handsome smile split his face. "How about this?" he asked in Diné.

The man's limbs abruptly shrank, and his features became wizened, his hair thinning until it was a few wisps on his head. His clothes, which didn't change, now sagged on a bent-backed elderly man.

He rested a hand on his bike as though it was the only thing holding him up. "Better?" He cackled.

Grandmother regarded him coldly. "When you are finished playing, we have work to do."

Nitis continued laughing as he morphed back into the tall man who'd ridden here with me. He winked at me and started for the house.

Before I could follow, a tan SUV rattled up the drive, billowing dust in its wake. The vehicle was crammed full of teenaged girls and driven by my sister.

"Hi, Janet," Gabrielle yelled at me. "I'm taking the team to lunch for winning their game last night. Come with us."

I hadn't been aware Gabrielle could drive. I hoped whatever license she had in her pocket was legal, if she'd bothered with a license at all.

"I'm here to see Grandmother," I told her. "She summoned me."

"Go with her, Janet," Grandmother said from the porch. "I must talk with the old crow. Take the bag with you."

I wished Grandmother would enlighten me as to a) how she knew about the egg and b) why she thought said egg would be safer with Gabrielle and her high school basketball team than in the house.

However, I'd learned at a very young age that it was useless to argue with Grandmother. Maybe by the time I returned, my dad would be there as a buffer against whatever was going on.

Gabrielle grinned at me through the driver's side window. "Come on, Janet. There's room."

I heard a lot of giggling from inside and saw that there was no way I'd squeeze myself into the crowded SUV. Two of the girls in the back were one if my cousin's daughters. They made faces at me through the window, laughing uproariously when I rolled my eyes.

"I'll take my bike," I said to Gabrielle. "Meet you there."

I didn't have to ask where she was going. Our family always went to the Watering Hole in Chinle, which was a large restaurant that served fabulous Navajo tacos and burgers bigger than my two hands. I'd tasted savory cheeseburger the minute Gabrielle mentioned taking her girls to lunch.

"All rightee then," Gabrielle said. "Bye!"

The team shouted their good-byes, a dozen slim hands waving at me, as Gabrielle turned the SUV around and zoomed back to the road.

Grandmother and Nitis, both on the porch now, had resumed staring at each other. The two crows, one of them with white head feathers, had done the same in the juniper tree behind my hotel.

I secured the bag once more, mounted up, and followed the SUV back down the highway, speeding a little to keep Gabrielle in sight.

The sheep we'd waited for in Chinle had decided to graze on the west side of the highway—it always amazed me how sheep could find the smallest blades of grass to chew on in the vast, seemingly empty desert.

Once past the flock, I turned off toward Canyon de Chelly and the cluster of motels and restaurants that attracted both locals and tourists.

The Watering Hole had known Gabrielle was coming. A long table was ready for the team, and the waitresses greeted them with big smiles and congratulations. The girls trooped around the table, grabbing chairs and plopping into them. Gabrielle had saved a seat for me at one end.

I tucked the bowling bag under my wooden chair and thanked the waitress who set a large glass of water in front of me. The drive had been dry.

"Everyone say hi to my big sister, Janet," Gabrielle sang.

A loud chorus of Hi, Janet! rang through the restaurant.

I wasn't certain how to respond, so I just smiled. "Hi, everyone. I heard it was a great game."

"It was a horrible game," Gabrielle contradicted. "We had to fight for every point. But we did it."

"Because of Coach," my cousin Lily called down the table. "They'd have wiped the floor with our asses if not for Coach Massey."

The girls cheered, beaming at Gabrielle with joy. The cheering broke off as menus came around, and the focus went to what food everyone was going to have. I'd already decided and didn't even need to look at what was on offer.

I leaned to Gabrielle while the girls were distracted. "You're loving this. "

"I am." Gabrielle snatched tortilla chips from the bowl the waitress had left, propped her elbows on the table, and proceeded to munch. "I've always wanted to be part of something like this, but when I was these girls' age, no one wanted to come near me. That's what I get for being scary as shit, right?" She grinned but I saw the lingering hurt in her eyes.

"Same thing happened to me," I said. "I wasn't welcome on any sports teams or even at the lunch tables. I was too weird." Another reason I'd left home to go to NAU and then hit the road soon after.

One of the team looked up from the intense discussion of what to order. "Hey, Janet, Shirley says you burned down one of the buildings at our high school. Is that true?" Shirley was Lily's sister, two years younger.

My face warmed. On a stormy day, when I hadn't been able to control my newfound powers, I'd directed lightning at a storage shed, which had instantly caught fire.

"Not on purpose," I said uncomfortably.

The team regarded me with awe. "Cool," the girl said. Others shouted "Woo!" or "Nice!" and then they went back to arguing about what to eat.

"They like you," Gabrielle said. "How does it feel?"

I sipped water to cover my embarrassment. "Not bad," I admitted.

Gabrielle smiled in triumph and ate another chip.

I told myself I'd long ago recovered from my adolescent angst, but yes, I'd always wanted to feel more a part of the community. I had a big family, and at the same time, I was an outsider. No one knew who my mother was, and that started me off at a disadvantage. If not for my father, I'd have despaired at an early age and would have probably tried to run away sooner.

I felt a little left out again when the waitress, who knew all the girls by name, took everyone's order but mine. No one seemed to notice.

My self-pity fled when the food arrived, and the waitress set down a large cheeseburger and fries slathered with gravy in front of me. What I always ordered when I came here. Now I felt like an idiot.

Gabrielle smirked as though she read my thoughts. Bratty little sis.

The girls giggled and joked through the meal, but they were in no way rude or arrogant. They were pleased with themselves for winning last night, but as many on the opposing team were friends and relations, they expressed respect for their good playing—though they were happy they'd won.

When I was almost finished with my food the afternoon became even better. The door of the restaurant swung open to admit my dad and Gina.

I was out of my seat and moving toward Pete the moment I spotted him. I wouldn't embarrass him by rushing over and throwing my arms around him, but it was hard to contain my joy.

A warm smile filled Dad's eyes when he saw me. He clasped my hands— demonstrative for him—and gazed fondly at me.

"I did not know you were coming, Janet," my father said. He continued to hold my hands, infusing me with his warmth. Gina, behind him, regarded me with quiet welcome.

"Grandmother called an emergency meeting," I explained. "Then she told me to go out to lunch with Gabrielle."

Amusement lit Pete's eyes. "Your grandmother's ways are her own," he said.

"A good way of putting it," I agreed.

"Come and sit with us, Janet," Gina said.

I returned to my seat to fetch the bag, murmuring to Gabrielle that I would visit with my dad and Gina at the table in the corner that they'd taken. Dad didn't like to be in the middle of the room.

"Sure thing," Gabrielle said brightly. Before I could turn away, she caught my sleeve and pulled me down so she could whisper into my ear. "Later you'll tell me all about how you got yourself a dragon egg."