“Our paths have crossed twice now, little bird’s Nest,” the Sinnissippi said. “I would not be surprised if they were to cross again.”

“You could help me,” she hissed, pleading with him.

He shook his head and placed his big hands on her slender shoulders. “Perhaps it is for you to help me. If I were the lady in the story, in the event all else failed, I would send someone to take back the talisman from my fallen champion, someone strong enough to do so, someone who knew much about death and did not fear it, because he had embraced it many times before.” He paused. “Someone like me.”

Nest’s throat knotted in horror. Images of the past flooded through her mind. In Sinnissippi Park, on the Fourth of July, five years earlier, when he had appeared so mysteriously and done so much to help her find the courage she needed to face her father, she had seen nothing of this. She stared at him in disbelief, unable to give voice to what she was thinking.

“Speak my name,” the big man said softly.

“O’olish Amaneh,” she whispered.

He nodded. “It sounds good when you say it. I will remember that always.”

One hand pointed. “Look. Over there, where the mountains and the forests and the lakes shine in the sunlight. Look closely, little bird’s Nest. It will remind you of home.”

She did as he asked, compelled by his voice. She stared out expectantly at a vista of white and green and blue, at a panorama that extended for miles, at a sweep of country that was so beautiful it took her breath away. Ferry boats churned through the bay below. Sailboats tacked into the wind. The late afternoon sun beat down on the foaming waters, reflecting in bright silver bursts off the wave caps. The forests of the islands and peninsula were lush and inviting. The mountains shone.

Two Bears was right, she thought suddenly. It did make her think of home.

But when she turned to tell him so, he was gone.

Chapter 14

John Ross had told Nest he had already been warned of the consequences of his refusal to continue as a Knight of the Word. What he hadn’t told her was that the warning had been delivered by O’olish Amaneh.

As he rode the trolley back up to Pioneer Square and the offices of Fresh Start, thinking through everything Nest had said, he recalled anew the circumstances of that visit.

It was not long after he met Stef and before they started living together. He was still residing in Boston and auditing classes at the college. It was just after Christmas, sometime in early January, and a heavy snow had left everything blanketed in white. The sky was thickly clouded, and a rise in the temperature following a deep cold spell had created a heavy mist that clung to the landscape like cotton to Velcro and slowed traffic to a crawl. It was the perfect day to stay indoors, and that was what he was doing. He was in his apartment, finished with his classes, working his way through a book on behavioral science, when the door (which he was certain he had locked) opened and there stood the Indian.