“My name is Aditsan Claw,” he introduced again.
She tilted her head and continued to stare at him in silence. He absently picked up a piece of bread and placed it on the plate. He added several pieces of fruit to go with it before holding the woven dish out to her.
He nodded to the plate when she looked at it with a frown. There was only one plate. He would use the basket. He frowned when she didn’t take his offering.
“This is for you. You did bring the food, after all. It wouldn’t be right to eat without offering you a dish first,” he said.
“The—food is for your consumption,” she softly responded.
He released a low chuckle. “So, you can talk,” he said with satisfaction.
“And you can hear me,” she replied as if surprised.
“I’d feel better if you ate with me,” he said.
She reached out and took the offered food from him with a puzzled expression. He reached into the basket and pulled out another loaf of bread, surprised that it was still warm. He tore a piece off and popped it into his mouth. She copied him, moving hesitantly as if the act of eating was foreign to her.
“You never told me your name,” he said.
“Name,” she repeated before her lips curled in that mysterious smile again. “Angeni, I am called Angeni.”
“Angeni. Thank you,” he said.
“You are feeling better?” she asked.
He frowned and nodded. “Yes… no… I’m not sure,” he admitted with a strained chuff of laughter.
She placed the bread she was holding on the plate and set it on the rock next to her before she stood up. He warily watched as she stepped around the fire pit. She raised her hand and gently laid it against his forehead, as if checking to see if he had a fever.
He stiffened when a tingling sensation prickled his flesh. Not sure what was happening, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He stiffened with surprise when his hand appeared to pass right through her arm when she stepped backwards.
“Your body has healed, though. You are no longer in pain?” she inquired.
He dropped his piece of bread into the basket and set it aside. She took another step back when he rose to his feet. A strange suspicion formed in his mind and he didn’t like what he was thinking.
“What’s going on? Who are you and who put you up to this? Are you slipping me drugs?” he demanded.
She appeared oblivious to his growing anger. His sharp gaze took in the expressions crossing her face. Nothing pointed to anything deceitful or nefarious, but something was off, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
“I don’t understand,” she softly replied.
“You don’t— I want to know what is going on. Yesterday—” He stopped and lifted both hands to run them through his hair in frustration before he turned to face the river. “Yesterday I fell off a damn cliff and nearly broke my neck. I did break some ribs, suffered a five-inch gash in my side, tore up my hands, knees, and had a concussion. I was—dying. My lung—” His hand moved to his left side. “I couldn’t breathe well.” He turned and stared at her with a hard, searching gaze. “I was drowning in my own blood, dammit all to hell. I was dying!”
“Yes.”
Her simple reply took him by surprise. “It really happened. I was—dying,” he choked on the last word.
“Yes,” she said.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t form. His eyes ran over her as he tried to make sense of the impossible. She continued to watch him with a curious, innocent expression.
“How?” he finally asked in a hoarse voice.
“You asked for help,” she said.
“I asked—” he stopped and thought.
Grandfather, help me.
He had asked for help. Flashes of memory, fogged by pain, poured through his mind. He remembered the fall, the journey along the canyon wall to the river, his collapse at the end, and finally his certainty that he would be dead before anyone found him. He also remembered the first moment Angeni had touched him.
“I don’t understand,” he said, echoing her earlier response.
She stepped closer to him and placed her hand over his heart. He tentatively lifted his hand and laid it over hers. She smiled at him.
“Your body was broken and I healed it,” she explained.
Mesmerized by the compassion in her eyes, he leaned toward her. He held back a breath from her lips, giving her a chance to pull away from him. When she didn’t, he captured her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss.
His hand slid along her arm and up to her neck while he wrapped his other arm around her waist. Her lips parted under his and he deepened the kiss, marveling at her response. He was vaguely aware of her hands sliding up to his shoulders.
She was real. This wasn’t a dream. He reluctantly ended their kiss, but didn’t release her.
“Angeni,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
“I must go,” she said, a slight tremble in her voice.
The protest on his lips faded when he suddenly found himself standing alone. His gaze wildly searched for Angeni, but she had disappeared. Fear gripped him by the throat at the thought that maybe he was going crazy until he saw the basket and the blankets.
With trembling fingers, he reached for the basket. The coarse grass was stiff. He lifted the basket to his nose and sniffed. The faint aroma of the woven grasses mixed with the smell of freshly baked bread and the sweet scent of the fruit. He wrapped his arms around the basket and hugged it against his chest.
“When will I see you again?” he called out.
“Tonight.”
The faint response drifted to him on the wind. He would see her again tonight. He leaned back against the rock and breathed deep, calming breaths.
“Thank you, Grandfather,” he murmured, looking up at the sky and grinning.
Chapter 6
Aditsan spent the day exploring the canyon. He followed the river for nearly six miles before he turned around and made his way back to camp. Along the way he discovered places that time had forgotten.
The outer walls of the cliffs contained Navajo pictographs. He spent several hours studying them and looking for more. The stories reminded him of the ones his grandfather used to tell him about—a time when the great people of the Navajo nation roamed from Canada down to Mexico.
His real life seemed surreal at the moment. After all, with the press of a mouse button or a message to George, he flew all over the world. Aditsan ran his hands down along the soft leather breeches. He didn’t miss the expensive suits or the designer jeans that he normally wore.
The sun had settled over the western wall of the canyon by the time he returned to camp. He stripped out of his clothing, draping it over a rock, and waded into the pool. He wanted to wash away the sweat and grime before Angeni returned.
“Angeni, what you are doing is forbidden,” Dyami stated in a firm voice.
Angeni ignored her brother and continued gliding over the area where lightning had created a small fire the day before. She should have known he would have seen what she was doing. The large eagle swooped down and Dyami shifted so he could walk beside her.
“Go away, Dyami,” she finally said.