Date: Wed, 21 Jan 2009 09:29:10 -0800
From: Tom Creekmur <tcreekmur@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Way Of The Heron - Part 11

* * *

The Way Of The Heron

By C. T. Creekmur

Chapter Five

Heart Of The Heron

* * *

     Author's warning: This story depicts men performing sexual acts upon
one another that immature people might find shocking. If graphic
depictions of sex between men upsets you, or if you are under 21 years of
age, then DO NOT READ THIS! - go read something else!

     Please understand that this is a work of fantasy and fiction, set in
a time when safe sex was unheard of. It is not intended to provoke or
promote promiscuity or abandonment of common sense where sex is concerned.
Especially in this day and age.

     Though historical personages are mentioned, none of the principal
characters are based on real individuals and any similarity to such is
coincidental. This story is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be
reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the
author.

     Historical Note: This chapter happens in August of 1867, in the same
area and partly at the same time as the previous chapter, 'Return Of The
Heron'.

     And now, on with the story!

* * *

HEART OF THE HERON

     A magickal enemy appears, a black sorcerer bent on stealing the Elxa's
most powerful fetish...

     And, to further his vile schemes, he captures and enslaves the
Spirit-Wolf, turning the Elxa's mighty protector into a deadly, implacable
foe...

     Only the Ghost-Bear and Falling Star can stand against such a
combination of fiendish, dark sorcery...

     But in such a fight, Zack might find himself forced to kill Eben - the
man he loves - in order to defend the potent nexus of the Elxa tribe's
sacred mountain, the...

HEART OF THE HERON

* * *

     "So long, Sees Far."

     "Yes, stay well, my brother."

     Asa Sykes looked up at the pair who had spoken to him, the friends he
had made in the short time he had sojourned at the cave of mysteries. The
white man whom he knew only by his Elxa name, Il-Xochitl, and his
companion, the native heron man Tolatil, were mounted on their horses,
ready for a long ride. Asa exchanged handshakes with the men, who had
already said their farewells to Red Hand. Then Falling Star stepped closer.

     "Be well and travel safely, my brothers," he murmured. His gaze
lingered on Il-Xochitl. "And remember, whenever you decide to come back to
us, you will be welcomed, my new brother."

     "Thank you, for that, and for everything else... "

     Falling Star nodded. He, Red Hand and Asa watched as the two men
turned their horses' heads and struck out on a trail that would lead to a
pass that only the Elxa knew about, one that would take them across the
highlands and into the semiarid lands that lay to the east. As their forms
receded, the shaman turned to Asa.

     "Sees Far, do you remember what we talked about yesterday?"

     "You mean my medicine dream?"

     "Yes. Last night, I sought a vision for myself concerning what the
great bear, our totem Zoraxte, revealed to you. And some of my spirit
helpers are troubled by it."

     "How so?" asked Red Hand.

     "No one has ever touched the Heart of Zoraxte before, my love,"
Falling Star responded, glancing at his partner. "The powers that guide us
are concerned that something unintended will happen, some disturbance on
the subtle planes where they dwell, that could open up the valley of the
heron to attack by evil forces."

     "I don't want to endanger anyone," avowed Asa, "especially not your
tribe. If you think what Zoraxte wanted me to do is too dangerous, then I
can live with my power as it is."

     "No, Sees Far," the shaman said, shaking his head. "I believe there
are precautions we can take. I will spend the rest of today preparing for
what we must do. I would like you to purify yourself in the hot spring."
Falling Star gestured towards the rock-lined pool of water that steamed
nearby. "Wash yourself and relax in the water as long as you feel able.
When Nizano returns, we will begin."

     "When will that be?" asked Asa. His companions could sense the longing
in Asa's voice, the apparent beginnings of tender feelings towards Falling
Star's handsome apprentice.

     "We expect him back here by this afternoon," Red Hand replied.

     Asa smiled at the news. "I'll go and do as you asked."

     "Red Hand will check on you later, my son. For now, I need his
assistance."

     Asa nodded and turned to go to the hot spring. Red Hand followed his
lover into the cave of mysteries. As they moved deeper into the unique home
he shared with Falling Star, he spoke.

     "What is it that the spirits fear, my love?"

     Falling Star responded quietly. His voice echoed oddly off the rough,
uneven walls of stone around them.

     "We have long sought to keep the existence of the Heart of Zoraxte a
secret, one known only to the elders of the Elxa. But if Sees Far touches
it, the power unleashed may act like a signal, revealing our fetish's
location to others sensitive enough to feel those eldritch emanations. And
not all of those adepts are friendly to us, as you know."

     Red Hand nodded, thinking of the two evil sorcerers who had been
responsible for the lycanthropic abilities possessed by his heron brothers,
Laughing Wolf and Sun Bear. They knew one was dead, but the other was still
at large. And they were not the only ones known who sought to increase
their magickal powers in order to achieve unworthy ambitions.

     "I will try my best to cast obscuring veils around our home," Falling
Star went on, "so that if what we fear happens, the effect will be so
diffused and muted that no one will be able to tell exactly what happened,
or more importantly, where the disturbance originated from, so the Heart
of Zoraxte will remain safely hidden."

* * *

     Using the knowledge of medicinal herbs that Falling Star had imparted
to him, Zeke Barnet, the heron man whose tribal name was Nizano, looked for
and chewed the leaves of a certain plant as he made his way back to the
shaman's home, following a trail along Heron Creek. Soon the fatigue of his
journey fell away and, newly invigorated, he forged on, confident now that
he would reach his goal before sundown. And it was so. The sun was still a
palm's width above the horizon when he climbed the last slope and stood
again before the cabin, the stony field, and the entrance to the cave of
mysteries.

     Seeing no one around, he went to the cabin and opened the door
quietly. As Nizano's eyes adjusted to the shadowy interior, he saw signs
of recent activity, but nothing else. The touch of something rough on his
bare shoulder caused him to jump and brought him about.

     "Oh!"

     "Sorry, Nizano," Asa began, withdrawing his gloved hand. "I didn't
mean to startle you."

     "It's alright, Sees Far," said Nizano, feeling his heart race. The
herb he had ingested earlier had that effect, like too much coffee. "Where
is everybody?"

     "Falling Star and Red Hand left to conduct a ritual somewhere in the
hills there," he said, indicating the woods to the north. "Tolatil and
Il-Xochitl left this morning."

     "I didn't pass them on my way here. Where did they go?"

     "Il-Xochitl said he was going to Maury City, to find work there during
the coming winter. That's where he was going when he first met up with
Tolatil. And Tolatil decided to go with him, to show him a pass through the
mountains. And maybe further, at least as far as the tribe's lands extend
to the northeast, that is."

     "I see." Nizano paused, trying to think of something more to say. "Oh,
about your last medicine dream, where were you when you had it?"

     "I'll show you."

     Asa led the way back to the circle of standing stones which stood on
the outcrop of pink granite. The rays of the setting sun flooded the
clearing, making the base flush deeper shades of salmon and fuchsia. The
other rocks there acquired their own tints of orange and red from the
dying day.

     Nizano looked the construct over as Asa told his companion about the
things he had seen. Pulling them from his pocket, Asa showed Nizano the
rough crystals he had found, Zoraxte's tears. Then he pointed out the rare
gray starflower.

     "I've seldom seen this color," the heron man commented as he knelt to
examine the blossom.

     "Red Hand said its scent can cause sleep and visions."

     "Yes," Nizano said, standing up. "It probably sparked your medicine
dream. Do you know about the other colors of starflowers?"

     "Red Hand spoke of them to me as we traveled here. I was surprised to
hear about the green ones. He said they're supposed to be magic."

     Nizano nodded. "Some say the green ones can grant wishes, but you have
to be very careful what you wish for. Few of us are prepared to get the
things we dream about."

     'Like love?' Asa thought, looking thoughtfully at Nizano as he
recalled the things Red Hand and Falling Star had spoken to him about. But
instead he asked: "Why was this built?"

     "It marks a sacred spot, Sees Far. Someone else must have had a vision
or medicine dream here and built this to mark the place."

     "My name, I mean my real name, is Asa Sykes. I just thought you ought
to know it. It's only fair, since I know your real name."

     "Yes," Nizano replied. "I've hardly used it since I received my tribal
name from the Elxa spirits and came to live in the valley of the heron.
Before I left to take Southwind to Roman Rock, Falling Star told me Zoraxte
revealed my white name to you, Sees Far... Asa."

     Asa felt something within him stir when he heard Nizano speak his
name, and he responded softly:

In the shade of the forest,
good spirits have shown me
where my destiny lies...

Behold, here I am,
ready to follow
the Way of the Heron,
the path of manlove,
its tender mysteries
and spiritual power,
with you,
my love,
always...

     "You sang to me... " Nizano blinked.

     Asa was surprised as well by what had happened, but it did not stop
him from responding ardently as Nizano stepped closer, hugged him and
kissed him. He felt their beards mesh and rub sensuously as their lips and
tongues touched. Asa also thought he felt the subtle sensations of his
spirit wings unfurling and stronger ones beginning as they reached to touch
and mesh with Nizano's aethereal pinions.

     Red Hand had guided Asa into this knowledge during their journey to
the valley of the heron together. In medicine dreams, Asa met and loved a
heron brave of the distant past, High Water, who had coaxed Asa's spirit
wings to sprout. From Red Hand, Asa had learned how the heron men believed
those extensions of the aura, an energy field surrounding all living
things, to be a way to channel and direct the amorous energy raised by
mansex. He assumed Nizano, as Falling Star's apprentice, had learned the
same lessons from the Elxa shaman.

     Between kisses and caresses, the men managed to shed their clothing on
the edge of the stone circle, in a patch of feathery ferns. Their clothes
made a nest of sorts, which they reclined upon as they explored each
other's bodies with their hands and lips and tongues. And after they had
brought one another to the pinnacle of pleasure, they dozed together in the
shadows of the old stone stelae.

     The men held each other and dreamed, but there were no grand
revelations, no apparitions speaking wise words. Only the calm certitude
that they were not alone in that sacred space, an awareness of beneficent
spirits circling, watching and protecting. The pair slept a sleep of sweet
exhaustion, knowing they were safe and secure... and loved as well.

     When the pair woke, it was darkening swiftly. They dressed and made
their way back to the cabin in the late twilight. Red Hand was waiting
there for them.

     "Come," he said, looking at them in a knowing way, one that told the
pair the heron elder did not need to ask where they had been or what they
had been doing. "Falling Star is ready if you are, Sees Far."

     "Alright," Asa answered.

     Red Hand turned to lead the men into the cave. Nizano's hand slipped
easily into Asa's and he squeezed the gloved hand. With that silent
reassurance, they passed through the lamp-lit gallery and into the
hemispherical chamber that was fantastically painted with scores of
medicine images.

     A fire burned in the central hearth, but no one was there, at first.
But then Falling Star appeared from a side tunnel. In each hand he bore two
curious objects.

     One appeared to be a short sword, wrought of an unusual, dark blue
metal. The other was a sort of wand, a length of wood that looked as
though it once had been half of a spear-shaft. At its end was a long,
sharp shard of colorless crystal that glittered quite strangely in the
firelight.

     "What are those?" asked Nizano, who had never seen the unusual weapons
before. His question voiced Asa's curiosity as well.

     "This," Falling Star explained, hefting the sword, "is Bluefang, the
weapon that was carried by Red Bear, the first white man who embraced the
Way of the Heron, many hundreds of years ago."

     "The Red Bear of Elxa legend?" asked Nizano, nonplussed. He had heard
the stories of Red Bear's exploits many times, but had never thought he
would see such tangible proof of the fabled chief's existence.

     "Yes. His sword is no ordinary weapon, however. It is a talisman of
great power, which we may have need of. No earthly sorcery can touch
whoever wields it."

     "And that?" Asa asked, pointing at the spear.

     "This is the Sky-Spear, taken in battle by Red Bear from an evil
sorcerer, long ago. It is far older than Bluefang, and far more powerful,
but we are not here to discuss the secrets of these ancient weapons."

     The shaman handed Bluefang to Red Hand. Then, pulling at the rawhide
cincture encircling his waist with his free hand, the cord fell away, and
Falling Star's scanty garb with it, leaving him suddenly nude. The
flickering firelight played across a body that many others besides his
current companions found desirable.

     "We are going on a journey, Sees Far. We do not go far, but we do go
over sacred ground, to see a mystery that most heron men do not even know
exists and which you and Nizano must agree to keep secret." Falling Star
paused to hear their promises of silence before going on. "Now we must
remove our clothing, to be open to the spirits and the power they will
bring to us during this trek."

     The others obeyed his request and stripped. Asa hesitated to remove
his gloves, but at a reassuring nod from Falling Star he took them off and
left them with his clothes. When they were ready, Red Hand held Bluefang
before him and led the way as the four men reentered the side tunnel
Falling Star had emerged from.

     Since they could not hold hands, Nizano rested one hand on Asa's
shoulder as they traveled. Occasionally he squeezed gently to reassure his
new friend as they navigated the dark tunnels, lit only intermittently by
stone lamps. Nizano wondered if the spirits the Elxa honored truly intended
for Asa to be his lover. Remembering the more-than-satisfying love they had
shared beside the stone circle, Nizano had to admit those powers had chosen
well for him where physical pleasure was concerned.

     The twisting passage sloped sharply upwards but, as the shaman had
promised, the party did not go far before Asa began to perceive a dim,
reddish glow from somewhere ahead as he climbed. It pulsed regularly,
brightening and dimming, like a visible heartbeat. Then, another light
became visible.

     Noting its source, Asa was surprised to see the sword that Red Hand
carried had begun to glow. The weapon was shedding a cold, blue
illumination that grew steadily stronger as they approached the source of
the pulsing red light. The shaman explained.

     "Bluefang has always glowed whenever it was brought close to the Heart
of Zoraxte, revealing its inner power. The Sky-Spear also."

     Nizano and Asa both turned to look behind them. Sure enough, the pair
saw that the colorless crystal tipping the shaft carried by Falling Star
had begun to emit a scintillating, clear, prismatic illumination, as
inexplicable as that provided by Bluefang. The steadily growing intensity
of the light from both mystic objects led the group onward towards the
Heart of Zoraxte.

     The tunnel came up abruptly into the bottom of a roughly spherical
chamber, a hundred feet or so in circumference. Its floor was covered with
fine sand and tiny bits of shattered rock crystal that glittered
surrealistically. Falling Star left the Sky-Spear behind at that point,
placing it carefully into the niche of a rock just outside.

     As the group entered, Falling Star took Bluefang from his lover while
Asa and Nizano both looked about themselves in wonder. The enormous hollow
within the mountain was nothing less than a gigantic geode. Its inner
surface was coated with a spiky array of colorless quartz crystals of all
sizes. Masses of tiny points crowded around their mammoth brethren, some
of the latter nearly a foot in diameter.

     All their facets acted like mirrors that multiplied both the color and
intensity of the pulsing emanations coming from an irregular mass of alien
metal imbedded deeply in one side of the geode. The object shone with a
rich, sparkling, crimson phosphorescence that was as inexplicable as it was
beautiful. Asa recognized it.

     He had seen it in his earlier vision, burning in the chest of the
god-bear Zoraxte. The waves of light coming off it were almost too bright
for one to look directly at, full of glittering sparks. Higher up, the men
could see the stars shining through a hole that the meteor had punched
through the mountainside when it had impacted there, unnumbered years ago.

     "The Heart of Zoraxte," murmured Red Hand.

     As Falling Star held Bluefang aloft, the light from the mystic object
caused the surrounding crystals to cease to glow like flaming rubies. New
colors glinted and refracted, seeming to produce patches of burning
sapphires nearest the glowing sword. In between Bluefang and the Heart of
Zoraxte, their light meshed and amethysts bloomed in blazing surges of
vibrant violet, advancing and retreating with the pulse of the meteor's
red glow.

     "Go, Sees Far!" Falling Star urged the man on as he brandished
Bluefang, which blazed like a incandescent blade of azure light. "Place
your hands on Zoraxte's mighty heart!"

     Asa warily approached the Elxa's great totem, aware of his bare feet
cratering the dry, sparkling sands on the floor. When he reached the Heart
of Zoraxte, the man spread his fingers and carefully placed his hands flat
on the strangely sculpted surface of the crimson meteor, which was covered
with wide, shallow indentations. Despite the amount of brilliant light and
odd sparks it emitted, the meteor's surface was cold, just as one might
expect a metallic object to be that was kept in a cave. After a few
moments, the meteor's pulsing slowed and became a steady glow that began
to increase in intensity. Falling Star called to Asa.

     "What do you feel?"

     "I don't know, something I think. My hands feel warm and... kind of
itchy. It's... "

     Just then, something like an electric shock, flashing bright
blue-white like a lightning bolt, pulsed between Asa's hands and the
meteor. The man was physically pushed away by the phenomenon, repelled by
some nameless force. He looked at his hands in surprise, thinking he might
have been burnt, but there was no pain and his skin did not seem to be
harmed.

     "Are you alright?" Nizano asked in concern. As Asa turned to answer,
the meteor behind him returned to its previous state. It resumed giving off
regular pulses of cold, crimson light as if the events of the last few
minutes had not occurred.

     "Yes... I was just a little startled."

     "Let us see if this has helped," Falling Star began. "Touch me, but
concentrate on not seeing my future."

     Under Bluefang's cold light, the men's skins were turned blue as Hindu
gods as Asa approached, reached out and took the shaman's free hand.

     "It worked!" he cried happily after almost a minute had gone by. "I
don't see anything!"

     "Wait. Now try to summon your power."

     Asa was not sure what to think of to make his foresight happen, but he
tried relaxing and waiting expectantly. Little by little, he began to
perceive new premonitions. There was a triangular image, in brown, white
and red, which was followed by the face of a green-eyed, brown-haired
stranger. When Asa wanted to see more, he did, and it was a very odd vision
indeed. He saw, as if through Falling Star's eyes, a thick tree trunk
opening as if by magic, forming a portal of some sort which the shaman
stepped through.

     "That was... very strange," he faltered, breaking contact and ending
the vision. He told the others what he had seen, but like most of his
premonitions, they were too maddeningly vague to be really helpful in
foreseeing the future.

     But Asa was not really concerned with that. He went and touched
Nizano, feeling the hard contours of the man's muscles under the dusting
of dark chest hair for the first time without gloves, reveling in the
pleasures a simple touch gives. Nizano kissed him and the Elxa elders
smiled as they watched the pair's cocks thicken and start to rise.
Falling Star cleared his throat, and waited until the two men were ready
to listen to him.

     "The Heart of Zoraxte has given you control of your foresight, Sees
Far. Go and stay in the cabin tonight and we will talk further in the
morning. I suspect you and Nizano have much you wish to discuss as well."

     "Yes," he answered, putting an arm around Nizano as he did so, "I
think we do."

* * *

     The moment Asa had touched the Heart of Zoraxte, the change in the
strange energies emitted by the exotic matter that composed the meteor had
indeed resonated throughout the subtle, spiritual planes of existence that
were so closely interwoven with the physical realities of the valley of the
heron. And Falling Star's precautions, his veiling spells and use of the
talismans Bluefang and the Sky-Spear, helped obscure the discordant effect.
But not totally.

     Somewhere in the southern Willamette River drainage, on the extreme
northern fringe of what the Elxa considered their territory, stood an
unusual looking native lodge, secreted in a small, isolated clearing amid
the vast wilderness all around. The skins that made up the teepee's outer
covering had been dyed black, as were the odd garments worn by the solitary
occupant of the ebon lodge. The dark buckskin suit the native sorcerer
wore had a dozen or more pockets sewn across the front of his shirt. They
contained many eldritch powders, upon which his powers were based. His
name was Blood Wind.

     Blood Wind's meditations, on less than sublime things, like power over
others and how it could be acquired, were abruptly interrupted. The black
shaman felt the vaguest of shimmers in the subtle energies he had gathered
around his refuge. Like aethereal spider webs, they waited to capture
disturbances of a certain magickal type and transmit those impulses to
their maker, Blood Wind. His eyes snapped open.

     "At last... " the black sorcerer breathed, recognizing at once what he
had felt. It was the echoes of Elxa magic, generated by a totem of immense
power. His dark spirit helpers had revealed its existence to him, and made
promises about it that fired Blood Wind's boundless ambitions. "Now I can
find it, the Heart of Zoraxte," he murmured to himself, "and the moment I
touch it, I will be invincible!"

     Dipping his hand into one of the many pockets on his shirt, Blood Wind
pulled out a pinch of yellowish dust and cast it into the fire burning
before him. It poofed softly as it burned, producing an odd sort of smoke.
Odd because it did not dissipate, but seemed to take on a vaguely globular
shape as it twirled in the still air and rose to hover before his face.

     "Go forth, my spectral minion," the black clad sorcerer murmured. "Fly
and find the hiding place of the Elxa's mighty totem, the Heart of Zoraxte,
which I have just now sensed and sought for so long. Leave me a trail
through the aether I can follow to it."

     The rotating sphere of smoke floated up and out of the black lodge as
it moved to obey Blood Wind's command and vanished into the night. As it
did, the evil sorcerer reached into another pocket and fingered another
strange powder. He threw a bit of ochre dust on the fire, changing the
character of the flames in a way inexplicable to those not schooled in the
mystic arts.

     He stared intensely into the fire that was no longer merely the
visible combustion of wood and air, concentrating on looking for a certain
white man. Through the pyromantic magic Blood Wind evoked, he soon saw
through time and space. It was several hours earlier, and the sun shone
brightly on an isolated cabin, somewhere to the south of the Elxa
encampment called Roman Rock...

     "...bye, Xaculi," Eben was saying as he hugged the heron elder. Xaculi
looked from Eben to the big blonde man who stood behind Eben. He released
Eben and the white man stepped back, towards his new lover, who placed his
hands gently on Eben's shoulders.

     "Again, I feel I must apologize," Xaculi murmured softly. "I did not
mean to intrude on what must be a very happy time for you both."

     Xaculi had come seeking Eben to go on a short journey with him as the
Spirit-Wolf. But the heron elder discovered his friend had a new tribal
name and had bonded with a new heron man, freshly returned from his
initiation at the cave of mysteries. Eben's obvious happiness, as well as
Zack's, made the elder's heart rejoice.

     But Xaculi was even more surprised when the new couple had taken him
into their confidence. Eben and Zack had reached a mutual agreement
beforehand to let the heron elder, who knew everything about Eben, in on
Zack's secret. They told him Zack's story and revealed the powers he
possessed, so much like Eben's. Xaculi promised to keep the secret and
help spread the word that had already begun to go abroad, about the
Spirit-Wolf's new companion, another supernatural beast called the
Ghost-Bear, so none of Zack's brother tribesmen would try to harm Zack if
he was seen by them in his werebear form.

     Eben had accompanied the elder on his errand and now, after a few
days, had just returned to his home and the man who would share it with him
from then on. Standing there watching them, it was obvious to Xaculi that
Zack had missed his partner. Eben opened his mouth to protest against the
unnecessary apology, but Zack beat him to it.

     "Eben's told me everything you've done for him, Xaculi," he began,
"and I'm as ready as he is to do anything we can whenever you need our
help." Zack let his big, hairy hands fall from Eben's shoulders and reach
under his friend's arms to embrace his new lover from behind. "Because of
you, Eben's alive and safe, and... I... I can't say how grateful I am to
you for that... otherwise... well... "

     The big man shuddered, imagining what his life might be like if he had
never met Eben. Eben patted the thick arms that held him so gently in
wordless sympathy. Xaculi smiled as he responded.

     "I know, Sun Bear. You might not believe it, but I was once as young
as you, and as much in love. I am not sure how I would have reacted if, so
soon after finding my mate, someone had come to separate me from him, as I
did Laughing Wolf from you."

     "You needed help," Eben began simply, pleased by hearing his new name,
the one his lover had bestowed on him. "A man your age can't go travelin'
alone through the wilderness without protection. And I was glad to provide
it."

     "And we're together again," added Zack, leaning down to nuzzle Eben's
neck. Xaculi breathed.

My eyes are blessed
to see such love
between my brothers,
reminding me
of the beauty
and the depth of
the Way of the Heron...

     "I will leave you alone, my friends," the elder smiled after he
finished his impromptu song, "to renew your love."

     The men watched as Xaculi disappeared down the path that led to Roman
Rock. Zack's embrace tightened a little as he squeezed his lover to him. He
caught himself and enjoyed the newness of that feeling, that Eben was his
lover, HIS lover...

     "Are you ready to resume our 'honeymoon' big fella?" Eben whispered
through a smile. His eyes closed as he leaned back into Zack's warmth and
relaxed completely into his man's hug.

     "We'd hafta be married first, wouldn't we, little buddy?" Zack
returned playfully.

     "Xaculi said he would start organizin' our joinin' ceremony, that is,
if you still want me."

     "What do you think?" Zack chuckled as he ground his hard cock
pointedly against the seat of Eben's pants. "When will the ceremony be?"

     "A week from today."

     "Good. That'll give me a chance to go to the cave of mysteries and
invite Falling Star and Red Hand."

     "Between you and me," chuckled Eben, "I think, because it's us bein'
joined, every heron man in the valley will be there to witness it. If that
would make it harder for you to make love to me... "

     "I thought we'd already agreed that you'd be the one on top!" Zack
laughed. "But I'm willin' to consider any other ideas you might have."

     "Would you mind if I showed you what I have in mind? Inside our cabin,
in our bed?"

     "Our bed, our cabin," Zack repeated. "I like that word. Our. Ours."

     "Of course. We're pardners now, in everything... "

     "Oh, Eben, my little buddy," muttered Zack as he turned his lover to
face him, "I've missed you so... "

     Eben silenced Zack with a kiss and, as the lovers moved to go inside
their home, Blood Wind drew back from the images that had come to him with
a frown. He dissolved the scrying spell with another pinch of colored dust.
The sight of the smaller man, the one called Eben, brought back angry
memories. The black clad sorcerer's mind went back to a certain day in the
previous year.

     Blood Wind had spent much time and energy looking for the right spot
to construct a black medicine wheel, a doorway between this world and many
others, hoping to use it to contact a powerful spirit. It was nameless, but
the gifts it could bestow were great. He had been in the midst of summoning
that dark being when a lost hunter, none other than Eben, had inadvertently
intruded into his evil mandala, disrupting the ritual, and the power that
ought to have been his was given to an ignorant paleface!

     Blood Wind's purpose, then as it was now, was to acquire the power to
drive the white invaders from Oregon and establish himself as a supreme
chief over the remaining natives. His current ambition was to find the
Heart of Zoraxte, an object his dark spirit helpers had promised held the
secret of personal invulnerability. 'No living being will be able to kill
you, once you touch it' they had whispered in the visions they granted.
Now that the evil sorcerer knew where this mystical object could be found,
he would need help to get to it. Eben, or rather his werewolf persona,
would be the perfect accomplice to aid Blood Wind.

* * *

     Eben and Zack made love all that afternoon. Their exertions were
frenetic and energetic, ending in a sweaty, cum-drenched exhaustion.
Understandably, they dozed off afterwards, holding one another close, but
reawakened as the sun was setting amid a sky full of ragged, flame colored
clouds.

     Eben woke up first and he soon roused Zack as his hands wandered
freely across the bigger man's body, exploring and learning, before they
fell into a gentle bout of lovemaking. The previous few hours' sex had been
an expression of the happiness they shared at being reunited and the fierce
urgency of their desire for one another, but that want had, temporarily,
been appeased. Now they sought a deeper, more joyous union that only true
lovers could achieve.

     They worked together towards that far off goal, unconcerned by the
slowness of their journey and happy to make their joining last. As their
spirit wings joined and the men felt the energy racing through the unique
bond the Elxa had shown them how to make, Eben and Zack came to an
understanding of what the heron men believed were the real reasons for
making love. Their physical connection was no longer just about primal
pleasure, but using it as a means to bring about the merging of their
beings - bodies, minds, souls and spirits - and use that union to summon
a numinous power.

     Through that deeper sharing, they sought to achieve what all Elxa
desired. To become aware of the matchless power their lovemaking generated,
to unfurl their spirit wings, allow them to mesh and form subtle spheres,
to feel the eldritch forces flowing joyously between and through and around
them. An amorous energy that welled from the hearts of all man-loving men
when they coupled, but few were aware of. They also strove to consciously
direct this love-force, wishing for the good of themselves, their brothers
and all the life that flourished in the valley of the heron.

     The last vestiges of the twilight were fading in the west when the
pair finally emerged from their cabin and went to wash and swim in the warm
waters of the pond that was only a few steps from their front door. Later,
as they dried off together with some old flour sacks, they talked it over
and decided to go to Roman Rock and see what was happening there. As they
followed the trail, the uncanny night vision they shared made the way plain
to them both as they strolled easily along, hand in hand.

     As Eben had guessed, everyone they met at Roman Rock seemed to know
about the impending joining ceremony that would be held for Zack and
himself. The group of men who were at the settlement were a bit distracted
however by two new tribesmen, Will Dern and Silas Trent, whom Zack and Eben
met. They were preparing to return to their home near Lemolo Lake and
planned to leave the next morning.

     Because of their presence, Eben and Zack endured a little less joking
and ribbing from their fellow heron men than they had expected. But when
fun was poked at them, all either had to do was glance at his new partner
to know he would take any amount of abuse as long as at the end of the day
they would be in each other's arms. After dinner, Big Otter and Tavani
invited them to spend the night in the new bunkhouse and they gladly
accepted.

     Tavani suggested a game of cards and though Eben played as skillfully
as he could, luck was not with him that evening. Zack warned him to stop,
but Eben refused, confident that his luck would change. It did. From bad
to worse.

     "Twenty one dollars, Laughing Wolf!" Tavani crowed, showing three
queens. "Pay up!"

     "One more hand, Tavani, okay?" Eben begged. "Double or nothing."

     "Okay!" Tavani agreed, reaching for the deck. Zack's big hand came
down on the cards first.

     "I don't think so!" he said looking disgustedly at Eben. "It's time
for you to stop before you dig your grave any deeper!"

     "Be a sport, Sun Bear!" Tavani urged, before Big Otter weighed in.

     "If I didn't know better, Tavani, I'd think you were trying to take
advantage of Laughing Wolf!"

     "Hey!" exclaimed Tavani, as if he were cut to the quick, "It's just a
game, guys!"

     "Then you'll forgive Eben's debt? Great!" Zack said quickly as he got
up from the table and pulled his lover into the bunk they had staked out
earlier for the night. "Well, it's time for some shuteye," he went on, not
allowing Tavani to protest, as he shucked his clothes and gave Eben a look
that told him to do the same... or else.

     Eben bit his tongue. He wanted to point out to Zack how he was already
acting like an old married man. But Eben was afraid Tavani and Big Otter
would repeat his comments all over gossip-hungry Roman Rock. He could
already hear the tsk-tsking of his fellow tribesmen and their whisperings
of 'trouble in paradise', before he and Zack were even joined!

     Big Otter laughed and started removing his clothing as well, giving
Tavani a pointed look of his own, one that told the card sharp he had been
outmaneuvered. Tavani looked mildly annoyed at first, but when he saw three
handsome men stripping in front of him, he found he could not concentrate
on a lost cardgame. Turning the lantern flame down to a dim flicker, he
joined Big Otter in the adjoining bunk. As the sounds of Big Otter's
further efforts to distract and appease Tavani rose from their bed, Zack
and Eben turned to each other.

     "Thanks... " Eben whispered sheepishly.

     "Don't be so quick to thank me. As far as I'm concerned, you owe me
now, little buddy!"

     "You want twenty one dollars from me, big fella?"

     "What I want from you can't be valued, my love," breathed Zack,
lowering his lips to Eben's. They met eagerly, and the men lost themselves
in their love.

* * *

     During the same afternoon, on the western fringes of the Elxa's lands,
a lone hunter was looking for a spot where he could make camp for the
night. Goodland Ormonde - Goody to his friends - had not meant to get
caught at nightfall so far from his family's encampment, but he experienced
no luck sighting game and went further than he intended in search of it.
Now he was following a faint trail he had stumbled onto, one that
paralleled a small stream.

     Goody stopped in mild surprise when he saw clouds of steam rising from
the vent of a hot spring, a cleft in the earth that yawned not far from the
stream. He stroked his light brown beard in thought as he saw how the
outflow from the spring gushed and ran to mix with the stream, forming a
small pool at their confluence. But when he tested the waters cautiously he
found them too hot to get into. Perhaps, he thought, further downstream he
would find a cooler spot to bathe and relax in.

     The wayworn hunter heard the sound of a waterfall before he saw it.
His green eyes spied another small pool swirling behind a mass of pink
granite, before it spilled over beyond where he could see. Goody set his
rifle down and began to strip, baring a tautly muscled body, covered with
a pelt of hair that was slightly darker in color than that of his hair and
beard.

     When he got in, he found the water was still very warm, but bearable.
As Goody gingerly lowered himself into the steaming water that stung his
bare flesh, he positioned himself so that he could look over the granite
shelf and see what lay beyond it once he was comfortable. Sighing
plaintively when he was fully immersed, Goody relaxed a few moments before
casually glancing over the edge. The sight that met his eyes when Goody
looked gave him an unexpected shock.

     Not far away was another stone outcrop, looking like a huge sphere of
rock half buried in the ground. The surface of this singular stone was
thickly covered with native carvings, so many that it appeared as if the
rock were a solid mass of engravings. The lost hunter gazed open mouthed
at the incredible sight for several moments in sheer surprise.

     Once he got control of himself again, Goody noted something else that
held far more importance, as far as his personal safety was concerned. An
odd sort of humped structure covered with shingles of bark sat a little
ways away from the base of the waterfall and a campfire blazed merrily in
the firepit dug before it. Something was roasting on a spit set up over
the flames. Goody's green eyes darted swiftly around the immediate area,
but he could not see who had lit the fire. It was then that the man heard
a low, breathy moan, not of pain, but of raw pleasure.

     Moving cautiously, Goody peered over the edge of the rough granite
shelf to see what was directly below him. The hot water fell steaming and
smoking into another, larger and deeper, pool. In it he spied two naked
native men, their tawny bodies mostly submerged, long black hair floating
loosely in the warm water as they held each other close and kissed
passionately. A pale brick of soap lay glistening wetly on a nearby stone
and Goody surmised that the pair had just finished washing each other, and
had moved on to more erotic touches.

     One of the men was tautly muscular and darkly, broodingly handsome. A
long, twisting white line, an old scar, marred the coppery skin of his left
shoulder. The other native was muscular as well, but broadly so. Their
black, shining eyes, like chips of polished obsidian, were turned on each
other. It was obvious they were deeply into each other, to the point of
being unaware of anything else around them.

     Through the clear water, Goody could plainly see that the handsome
pair were fully aroused. Their dark cocks stood long and hard as they
kissed and touched one another lovingly. The watcher felt his own pecker
respond to the visual stimulus and he reached to stroke himself. This was
just the sort of fun Goody was used to engaging in with his brother and
father.

     His thoughts returned to that morning, waking up in the temporary
campsite, wrapped in the blankets he shared with the two other members of
his family. His father George's thickly furred back was to him, moving in
a way that told Goody his younger brother, Gabe, was impaled on their
father's morning hardon. Feeling ready for some fun himself, Goody spat
on his fingers and lubed his father's hole, while stroking his sex with
his other hand.

     "Morning, Goody," George puffed over his shoulder as he kept on
fucking away at Gabe. "You gonna make a 'dad sandwich' for breakfast?"

     "Sure am, pop," he answered as he eased himself into his father's
asscrack and pierced the bull's-eye.

     "I love you, Goody," the older man breathed as he felt his eldest son
fill him and start to pump. "And you too, Gabe," he acknowledged his
younger son with a tight hug and a kiss. "My good, handsome boys!" George
panted, almost overwhelmed by the sensations of taking and being taken at
the same time. "What would I do without you?"

     "Don't worry, dad," Gabe managed as he beat his cock, "we ain't never
gonna leave you. Right, Goody?"

     "Hell, no, Gabe! We got the best pop in the world, and we ain't gonna
give him up!"

     Goody stoked himself to full erection, thinking of the fun he had that
morning and the sex he was now witnessing below his perch. The braves
shifted positions and the scarred man began sucking his companion's hard
rod, who moved to sit on a rock at the edge of the pool. Lost in his
pleasure, the Indian being fellated abruptly let his head fall back, and
his eyes locked with Goody's. The black eyes widened in surprise.

     Not knowing what else to do, Goody showed his open hands over the edge
of the waterfall, hoping the native would understand he meant him and his
friend no harm. Apparently the man did. The brave slowly caressed the
gently bobbing head of his lover and murmured a few words in their own
tongue.

     The man stopped what he was doing and stood up. He looked at Goody,
but did not seem upset by the interruption of his pleasure. Goody studied
the long scar that marred the native's body, starkly pale against the dark
skinned upper chest, snaking along his left shoulder, and wondered how he
had gotten it.

     Goody also noticed the head of the man's hard penis, which bobbed just
above the surface of the hip-deep water as if it too wanted to get a better
look at the intruder. Standing beside him, his shorter companion's organ
presented a similar sight, looking like a turtle's nose when it takes a
breath. The shorter man beckoned and Goody stood up.

     The pair smiled when they saw the hairy white man's erection. Goody
found a way to climb down and slipped into the bigger pool below the
waterfall. He touched his chest and spoke hesitantly to the pair,
uncertain if they could understand English.

     "My name is Goody. I was lookin' for a place to camp. I'm sorry if I
bothered you... "

     "It is no bother, handsome one," the shorter man said, smiling warmly.
"I am Ho'va. This is my brother, Katchikoa. We would be happy to share our
camp with you."

     "Thank you. I thought I'd have to sleep out in the open tonight,"
sighed Goody as he sat down on a convenient rock, situated under the
falling water and relaxed, allowing the waterfall to thoroughly soak his
shoulder length hair and run down into his shaggy beard. "I've been
trampin' through these woods all day and this warm water feels so
good... " The two natives grinned at each other.

     "We can make you feel even better, if you wish it," Katchikoa
suggested, stepping closer and running a dark hand over Goody's wet
shoulder.

     "I'd like that," Goody answered, enjoying the caress. He was
unsurprised by the offer after what he had witnessed from above. "But are
you sure I'm not intrudin'?"

     As Goody asked that question, he lifted his hand, stroking Katchikoa's
dark thigh as he reached for and gently cupped his ballsac. Rolling the
full pouch of flesh in his palm, the lost hunter hungrily studied the
native's stiff manhood. It was pointed directly at his face, a shining
drop of precum quivering on the tip where the heavy foreskin had retracted
slightly.

     Goody could not stop himself. He leaned forward slowly and let his
tongue snake out of his mouth to touch and lap up the drop of man-dew. He
shuddered at the taste of the sticky savor, just as Katchikoa shuddered at
the intimate touch.

     "We Elxa believe that love is meant to be shared, Goody," Ho'va
murmured as he also came closer and sat beside the white man, slipping a
coppery arm around his waist.

     "Elxa... is that your tribe?"

     "Yes. You have come into our lands."

     "Oh. I didn't mean to trespass... "

     "It is alright. Are you alone?"

     "No, my father and brother, George and Gabe, are at a temporary camp
we set up over on the Clearwater River, near a stream the map called Horn
Creek."

     "Ah," Katchikoa began as he sat on Goody's other side. "We know of it.
It is about halfway between here and the town of False Pass. We came
through there recently. We are carrying messages from other tribal leaders
to our shaman, Falling Star."

     "We stopped there too, to pick up supplies a couple of days ago. The
folks there were real friendly." Goody was becoming distracted by the way
his new friends' hands were wandering freely across his body. "My father's
a prospector... "

     "And you and your brother... work with him?"

     "And play with him, too," sighed Goody as he leaned his head on
Katchikoa's shoulder, "I never thought I'd meet anyone else out here who
liked stuff like that."

     "Well, we like that 'stuff' too, Goody... "

     Ho'va and Katchikoa began to work on Goody in tandem and the white man
relaxed into their hands. Their ministrations echoed the feelings evoked by
Goody's father and brother when they would play with him in that way, all
three giving and receiving at once. Goody did what he could to pleasure the
two lovers in return as they urged him to stand up.

     Picking up the bar of soap Goody had noted earlier, Katchikoa washed
Goody from the front, apparently delighted as he ran his fingers through
the dark tangle of Goody's chest hair and tantalized his hard nipples.
Meanwhile, Ho'va lathered Goody's back. He worked his way down, lower and
lower, his fingers slipping at last into the hairy crack of Goody's
backside, finding and slickening up the man's asshole before he eased his
hardon into Goody.

     Ho'va was bigger than either Goody's father or brother, and Goody felt
an echo of the pain he had experienced when he had willingly given his
cherry to his father, long ago. But only an echo. The pleasure soon
overrode everything else and in short order Goody found himself bent over,
sucking on Katchikoa's cock enthusiastically as Ho'va energetically road
his ass. At length, Goody felt the small explosion of warmth within him
as Ho'va went past the point of no return and filled his new friend's
innards with hot blasts of thick native juices.

     "You are well named, Goody... " Ho'va panted.

     He had been stroking Goody's stiff cock as they fucked and Ho'va moved
quickly around to kneel in the pool and take the man's rigid organ into his
eager mouth. Ho'va licked and slurped, caressing determinedly with his
tongue, until he felt Goody's rod jerking as it began to spew thick pulses
of slimy hot goop down his gullet. As he swallowed the savory gouts of
nutjuice, Ho'va heard Katchikoa growl and groan as he too went over the
edge, feeding Goody a man-sized mouthful of native seed. Soon after that,
all three were laying in the warm water together, exhausted, satisfied and
feeling close.

     Eventually, Ho'va got up to go check on the fire, and soon, Katchikoa
and Goody followed. The heron men had snared several grouse earlier and the
birds that were spitted over the flames were done to a turn. The men shared
a filling dinner. Goody retrieved his belongings and added his blanket to
those of his two new friends in the odd shelter, which he learned was
called a wickyup.

     From dinner onward, the natives told Goody about their tribe, how it
was composed of men of their nature, the same nature they sensed in Goody
and his family. Goody listened in growing wonder, eager to know more. When
they turned in for the night and snuggled together inside the wickyup, he
asked how new members were inducted into the tribe.

     "We do not seek new brothers, Goody, they are led to us by the powers
we honor, the ones who guard and guide us," explained Ho'va. "Perhaps you
were led to us for this reason. We will talk with our shaman, Falling Star,
and he will commune with our spirit protectors in medicine dreams to see
what they recommend."

     "No matter what they say," Katchikoa added, "we will still be your
friends. You are welcome to visit us whenever you can."

     "I'd like that, a lot. I'd go with you tomorrow when you leave here to
see Roman Rock if I could, but I'm sure my family's wonderin' where I've
gotten to. I don't wanna worry them."

     "We understand, Goody. The trail is easy to follow and you can come
whenever you are ready."

     "A fellow could take that two different ways," Goody smiled. "I'm
ready to come now, if you are... "

     As the men fell slowly and determinedly into another bout of three-way
sex, none noticed a slight breeze that blew through their camp. The wind
caught at the flap of the pouch containing the letters Ho'va and Katchikoa
were carrying and had left outside, flipping it open. Then a man clad in
black buckskin suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere. He slipped another
roll of painted leather into the pouch before he closed it and vanished
into the night as silently as he had come.

* * *

     At breakfast the next morning, Zack readied himself to go to the cave
of mysteries. Eben had decided to wait at Roman Rock for his return. They
found an isolated spot shaded by a copse of alders in which to say their
goodbyes. A few of the leaves were already a golden yellow, warning of the
turning of the seasons.

     After they made love again, Eben helped Zack pack his clothes into a
sack and, after he transformed into his werebear form, which the other
heron men were learning about under the name 'Ghost-Bear', Eben hung the
sack around the great beast's neck. Zack licked Eben's face affectionately,
stood to gently hug his lover in his powerful arms to his shaggy breast,
then set out through the forest, paralleling the trail that led to the
eastward, towards the brooding presence of Zoraxte, the great mountain
that overshadowed everything in the valley of the heron.

     The Ghost-Bear traveled unhurriedly. He knew somewhere, not too far
ahead, his new brothers Will and Silas were following the same trail to the
east, and Zack had no intention of alarming them or spooking their mules. A
few hours before nightfall, he knew they would reach a campsite where they
would turn north to go to the cabin they shared.

     As the afternoon shadows lengthened, Zack skirted the far side of the
warm pool of water that lay beside the campsite, but was unable to escape
being seen. He paused to wink at the handsome pair as they stood open
mouthed, staring at his massive, pale furred form. Then the Ghost-Bear
moved into the forest beyond, continuing on his way at a faster pace. He
would reach Falling Star's home long before sundown.

* * *

     "Laughing Wolf!"

     Eben looked as he heard his tribal name called. He grinned as he saw
his handsome fellow tribesman, Ho'va, coming towards him. He turned from
what he had been doing for most of that day since Zack had left, helping
his friend Tavani put the finishing touches on the exterior of the new
bunkhouse.

     "Hello, Ho'va."

     "I have a message for you," the native said, offering a roll of
deerskin to Eben. "It is odd, but I did not remember seeing it before,
among the others I had. It is a good thing I double checked the messages
I was carrying," he added as Eben read the letter.

     "Xaculi needs me," he murmured, turning to Tavani. "I'm sorry, but I
have to go."

     "That's okay, Laughing Wolf. You go on. And thanks for your help," the
redheaded man smiled.

     "Okay. And thanks, Ho'va, for bringin' me this."

     Ho'va nodded and Eben began walking to the place Xaculi had written
of, where the elder said he wanted to meet. Once he was away from Roman
Rock, Eben drew on the strength of his werewolf persona and began to run,
much faster than was humanly possible. In the meantime, Ho'va went back to
where he had left his lover, Katchikoa. He was quite surprised to see his
partner chatting easily with three of his fellow tribesmen, especially
because one of them was Xaculi!

     Ho'va told them about the message he had just delivered and Xaculi was
very disturbed by the news. The Elxa elder had sent no such message. One of
the other tribesmen there, Wiscoup'a, who was the fastest runner in the
camp, volunteered to go after Eben and try to bring him back. The other
native, Xioga, would accompany Wiscoup'a as best he could while the others
organized a larger party to follow them as soon as possible.

     Using his skill as a tracker, Wiscoup'a followed Eben's trail and
Xioga kept up. The boot prints led west. As the natives were talking to one
another, speculating on where their white brother had been summoned to, a
harsh voice suddenly challenged them.

     "Halt!"

     The Elxa braves paused as they saw a stranger, clad entirely in black,
step from behind a boulder near at hand. They tensed and drew their knives
in preparation for a fight, but the newcomer moved first. Dipping a hand
into one of the many pockets that were sewn across the front of his black
shirt, he grasped a handful of black powder and made to throw it at the
braves.

     Xioga saw the way the dust smoked and fumed unnaturally in the man's
clinched fist and suspected danger. He suddenly pushed Wiscoup'a away. He
cried out as he did so.

     "Beware, my brother! It is... "

     That was all Xioga was able to say before Blood Wind cast his deadly
powder at them. The effects were ghastly. Xioga was struck full in the face
and his head literally dissolved. His lifeless and headless body fell
heavily to the ground.

     Thanks to Xioga's push, Wiscoup'a received only a small portion of the
deadly dust. It grazed the left side of his face, but that was enough. It
felt as if hot coals were being pressed against the man's skin. Wiscoup'a
screamed in agony and collapsed, writhing and clutching at his head.

     Soon Wiscoup'a ceased moving and lay very still. Blood Wind came
closer to look over his handiwork, making sure the Elxa brave was no longer
a threat. Then he vanished into the surrounding woods, following Eben's
trail.

* * *

     A ways to the west of Roman Rock was a large medicine wheel, another
sacred site of the Elxa. A half-hour after he had started out, Eben was
there, thanks to the abilities granted him by his lycanthropic condition.
He looked around, expecting to see his old friend Xaculi, but spotted only
something that looked out of place, lying inside the circle of stones.

     He stepped carefully within the circle and picked it up. It was
another roll of deerhide with a message painted on it. The writing was
unfamiliar and Eben read the words in puzzlement.

     'I have you now!'

     Eben frowned to himself. He turned to retrace his steps, wondering
what the odd message meant. An unfamiliar voice stopped him.

     "You're not leaving already, are you?"

     Eben was startled by the appearance of a man clad entirely in black.
Normally, his heightened senses would have told him someone was nearby long
before, but now they belatedly warned him of danger. At the same time, Eben
caught a scent on the air that seemed familiar, one that disturbed him.

     Moving cautiously towards the apparently unarmed black figure, Eben
prepared himself for a fight. He kept a hunting knife in a sheath inside
his right boot and was ready to draw and use it. His opponent made no move
to defend himself. Then Eben encountered something totally unexpected that
blocked his forward progress.

     "What the... " the nonplussed man ejaculated, putting out his hands.
Eben quickly realized that a smooth, invisible barrier had gone up around
the outer edge of the medicine wheel, trapping him inside.

     "Don't worry, I'll free you when I'm ready," the stranger informed
him.

     "You'll free me now if you know what's good for you!"

     "Save your threats. We have unfinished business, you and I."

     Eben fumed helplessly as he eyed his captor. He opened his mouth to
protest again, but stopped as he thought he saw something familiar in the
man's face. The stranger nodded and chuckled evilly.

     "The last time we met, there was too much confusion to allow for
polite introductions," he began. "My name is Blood Wind."

     "You... " Eben finally found his tongue. "You're the one... the one
who was in the black medicine wheel... it's your fault I am what I am... "

     "Yes, and your accidental intrusion there ruined months of magickal
preparations on my part! But no matter. You may now have the power I
sought, but I can still make use of it. Eben Hale, or Spirit-Wolf as some
call you, you will serve me from now on."

     "I'd like to see you try and make me!" Eben growled, as he started to
strip off his clothing in preparation for the transformation into his
werewolf form.

     Blood Wind watched with a confident smile as Eben became the
Spirit-Wolf and tried to attack the evil sorcerer, but the invisible
barrier was just as capable of containing Eben as a werewolf as it had
when he was a man. Since he could not go through it, Eben tried to jump
over it, leaping astonishing high in the air. But the barrier's top, if
it had one, was beyond his reach.

     Blood Wind reached into two of the pockets on his unique shirt and
each of his clinched fists seemed to smoke purple and gray separately. The
barrier did not impede him as he cast his eldritch powders into the
Spirit-Wolf's eyes. The werewolf staggered backward as if he had been
struck a powerful blow.

     The mystic beast whined and shook his head, as if trying to shake off
an attack of some sort. Soon he lay down and his chest heaved, as if he
were fighting to catch his breath. Then he stopped moving altogether.

     "Come to me," Blood Wind ordered after a few moments.

     Stiffly, the werewolf got to his feet and tried to walk to where the
sorcerer stood. He bumped into the barrier, but continued to move against
it uselessly, like a windup toy that has hit a wall. Blood Wind grinned
when he saw how Eben's eyes had lost their brilliance and now glowed
dully, reflecting the mindless state he had reduced the werewolf to. With
a few muttered words, he banished the barrier.

     "Ah, my mighty slave," Blood Wind cooed as he stroked the subservient
werewolf's head. "What shall I call you? What name to strike terror into my
enemies? Ah! I have it! Hell-Hound!"

     The enslaved werewolf growled as if in agreement.

     "Yes, my faithful Hell-Hound," Blood Wind continued. "Let us go now
and visit your friend Falling Star. When we have killed him, I will touch
the Elxa's hidden fetish, the Heart of Zoraxte, and receive what I was
promised by all the dark forces I serve. No living being will be able to
kill me! Once I am invulnerable, my power will have no limits!"

* * *

     "Ah," Zack murmured, feeling utterly content. "This water feels so
damn good!"

     He and Falling Star were soaking in the pool of hot water near the
cave of mysteries in the light of late afternoon. They were currently
alone at the shaman's home. Asa and Zeke were gone on a play-journey, the
new lovers getting to know each other better. Red Hand was absent too,
off hunting somewhere to the south.

     "These hot springs may be the greatest of our lands' treasures," the
shaman agreed. He was sitting up and smoking his wandlike pipe. Zack
watched the fragrant smoke curl and make arabesques in the still air as
his friend went on. "Your news gladdens my heat, Sun Bear. Red Hand and I
will be most happy to attend your joining with Laughing Wolf."

     "Will you lead the ceremony?"

     "Of course, if you wish it."

     "We both do. You're the main reason we're together, Falling Star.
I... "

     Zack trailed off, looking puzzled. He turned his head away and looked
across the grassy field pocked with odd rocks. His eyes scanned the edges
of the nearby forest intently.

     "What is it, Sun Bear?"

     "I can smell Eben's scent." Zack continued to gaze at the forest as he
spoke, a bit if a frown marring his face. "He's in his wolf form, and he's
nearby."

     "Perhaps he was lonely and followed you here."

     "Maybe," Zack muttered, still looking speculatively at the woods. "But
there's something about his scent doesn't smell right... " Zack sniffed the
air again.

     "Now that you mention it, I too feel something odd, Sun Bear." Falling
Star followed Zack's gaze and scanned the trees at the edge of the rocky
field.

     "Someone is with Eben."

     "Who?"

     "I'm not sure," Zack began. "Someone whose scent I've never caught
before. A stranger to me."

     At that, Falling Star got up and stepped out of the pool. As he did
so, he puffed vigorously on his ornate medicine pipe. The shaman blew a
stream of bluish smoke out towards the forest, punctuating that gust with
a few chanted words in the Elxa tongue. After a few seconds, he stiffened
in alarm.

     "Get up, Sun Bear and guard yourself!" the naked shaman warned. "A
dangerous enemy is quite close!"

     "Who?" the big man asked, making the steaming waters of the pool slosh
noisily as he arose and clambered over its rocky edge to stand beside
Falling Star.

     "My name is Blood Wind!" a new voice came suddenly. "You might as well
know it before you die!"

     Zack stared at the black clad stranger who strolled out of the woods
as if he were on a pleasure jaunt. His hands were busy in two of the many
pockets sewn across the front of his shirt, but those actions were quickly
rendered secondary by the sight of the creature that followed subserviently
at Blood Wind's heels.

     "Eben!" Zack exclaimed. The werewolf did not react.

     "What have you done to the Spirit-Wolf?!" demanded Falling Star.

     "He is no longer your Spirit-Wolf, Falling Star! Now he is my faithful
Hell-Hound, and he kills at my command!" Blood Wind gloated.

     "Eben!" Zack called again. "What are you doing?"

     "That is your lover?" asked Blood Wind.

     The Hell-Hound nodded, growling low in its throat.

     "Kill him!" the dark sorcerer ordered casually. "I can take care of
Falling Star."

     "Eben, no!"

     If Zack had not possessed the supernaturally enhanced reflexes he did,
he never would have been able to dodge the Hell-Hound's vicious lunge. As
it was, the possessed werewolf's powerful jaws and deadly teeth snapped
shut on the air where Zack's throat had been only a moment before. The
blonde man summoned the eldritch power within him, transforming as he
jumped and rolled away, and within that short time, the awesome, thousand
pound plus bulk of the Ghost-Bear appeared to rise and face the Hell-Hound.

     The Hell-Hound hesitated. It's mind was limited, making it easier for
Blood Wind to dominate. Thus it ignored the newcomer and looked about
itself in vain for the blonde human it had been ordered to kill.

     Blood Wind frowned in vexation. He knew about the Ghost-Bear, but had
not expected Eben's lover to be the human form of that entity. Despite this
momentary setback however, the black sorcerer was not about to allow
himself to be deflected from his purpose, not now, not when he was so close
to his goal, the matchless power of the Heart of Zoraxte, which promised to
make him invincible.

     "Hell-Hound! I order to you to kill that creature! Fight it to the
death!" Blood Wind exclaimed, "And death to you, too!" he cried, throwing
another handful of the deadly black powder at the naked heron shaman as he
spoke.

     Falling Star exhaled a burst of smoke from his pipe, followed by a
string of chanted words. The black mist burned as it struck the misty blue
shield that formed between it and the Elxa shaman. It looked like a burst
of tiny pinpoint novas as the menacing dust was neutralized by the power
in the smoke of Falling Star's pipe.

     Meanwhile, Zack had been trying in vain to talk to Eben. The telepathy
they used to communicate with in their werebeast forms seemed strangely
clouded. At first, all Zack could feel was waves of hatred and bloodlust
directed at him by the Hell-Hound's enslaved mind.

     But underneath that bestial layer, Zack came to feel something
familiar, another mind, his lover's mind. Eben was still there, struggling
to get free, to stop the Hell-Hound's rampage. Zack used the little his
lover and Falling Star had taught him so far about the powers of the mind,
sharpening his focus, imagining his thoughts flying like a swift arrow,
piercing through the fog of the Hell-Hound's unnatural psyche. To Zack's
relief it worked.

     "Zack!" he heard Eben cry. "I can't stop the Hell-Hound!"

     "Concentrate, little buddy!" Zack pleaded. "Take control!"

     "I'm trying... But you have to stop me before I hurt someone... The
only way may be to kill me... "

     "No!" Zack exclaimed. The shock from what he had heard caused him to
lose his composure, breaking off his tenuous contact with Eben.

     The Hell-Hound lunged again. Again, the Ghost-Bear spun and dodged its
attack. Blood Wind noticed and laughed.

     "You cannot win fighting like that!"

     The vile sorcerer made that comment as he tried another, greenish dust
on his adversary. The powder penetrated the bubble of spirit-smoke that
surrounded Falling Star, and it caused the Elxa shaman's hands to burst
into green flame. A few chanted words put out the fire. There were no signs
of burns or other injuries on the shaman's skin, but it was obvious that
Falling Star was in great pain.

     Blood Wind's words caused Zack's golden eyes to blaze with sudden
inspiration. He knew if he guessed wrong, the Hell-Hound could and would
inflict crippling wounds on him. But he had to try.

     Maneuvering himself carefully into position, Zack let his guard drop.
As he had hoped, the Hell-Hound lunged again. Zack felt its claws rake
through his pale fur harmlessly as it came closer than ever to wounding
him. But the possessed werewolf landed right where Zack wanted.

     With a great KER-PLUNK! the Hell-Hound landed squarely in the center
of the steaming pool Zack had recently been enjoying with Falling Star.
Knowing he had only a few seconds to act before Blood Wind's puppet
recovered from the surprise, Zack spun and leapt at the evil medicine man
with an agility surprising for a beast of his size. It certainly took
Blood Wind unawares. One great paw swiped and made contact. Blood Wind's
back was raked by the Ghost-Bear's sharp, massive claws.

     The dark sorcerer screamed in agony as his flesh was flayed by Zack's
blow. He collapsed instantly to the ground as his blood gushed forth from
the ghastly wounds. It was obvious that Blood Wind's back was broken.

     Zack spun around quickly, placing himself between Falling Star and the
Hell-Hound as the murderous beast clambered out of the hot spring. As steam
rose from its soaked fur, the Hell-Hound advanced slowly towards the
Ghost-Bear, growling menacingly. He tried to contact Eben again, but the
same psychic static still fogged the werewolf's mind. Frantically, Zack
thought at the shaman.

     'What do I do? Eben's still possessed!'

     "Now that Blood Wind is incapacitated, his spell will wear off soon,"
Falling Star responded, puffing on his unique pipe, which Zack now realized
was as powerful as any magic wand. "I will try to restrain the Hell-Hound
until Laughing Wolf can regain control."

     'Will that get rid of the Hell-Hound persona?'

     "Yes. Don't worry, Sun Bear, Laughing Wolf will soon be his old self
again," soothed the heron shaman. "Keep trying to contact him."

     As he said that, Falling Star blew smoke rings that seemed as
insubstantial as the air they floated on. But they gravitated towards the
Hell-Hound as if drawn by a magnet. The faint wisps wrapped themselves
around the possessed werewolf, binding it securely as if with the
strongest rope. The beast fell on its side, struggling uselessly against
the magickal restraints.

     Zack concentrated again, burrowing through the layers of bestial
bloodlust and mindless violence that made up the Hell-Hound's psyche, down
to where Eben was trapped. He was still fighting, harder now that he felt
Blood Wind's spell weakening, struggling to throw off the vile magician's
control. He greeted Zack happily.

     'Keep fightin' little buddy. Falling Star says the spell will soon
wear off.'

     'How'd you do it?'

     'I killed Blood Wind.'

     'Oh, Zack... ' Eben's thought carried an emotion of regret at the
killing, even if it was justified.

     'Hey, it was either you or him.'

     'Well, thanks for choosing him.'

     'It ain't for the reasons you think,' Zack chuckled.

     'You didn't save me because you love me?'

     'No! You owe me money!' he chuckled again.

     'Why you... ' fumed Eben. 'Are you gonna ever lemme forget about that
danged card game?'

     'Not until you pay up!'

     'I'll 'pay' you, you... you just wait until I... '

     As Eben threatened Zack playfully, he felt something give, a strange
feeling as if a psychic balloon had popped somewhere nearby. Zack and
Falling Star felt it too. It was Blood Wind's spell dissipating at last.
Eben realized he was in control of his body again and willed the
transformation back to his human form. He was still held however by the
shaman's magic.

     "You can 'untie' me now, Falling Star. The Hell-Hound is gone. For
good, I hope."

     "It is, Laughing Wolf. You need not worry about it coming back," the
shaman answered as he prepared to neutralize the binding spell.

     "Wait," Zack began. He had resumed his human form as well and moved
closer to Eben. His companions both noted the way his cock was rising, "I
wanna do something while he's trussed up... "

     "Hey! Don't! No fair!" Eben sputtered, struggling against his
invisible bonds.

     "This'll just take a minute," promised Zack as he ran a randy hand
over Eben's bare ass, and fondled his hard dick with the other.

     "Damn!" Eben exclaimed. "I can remember a time when you'd blush
something fierce if someone caught us kissin'! Now you don't care who sees
when you wanna have sex with me!"

     "You're the one who wanted us to have public sex at our joining
ceremony, my love!" Zack reminded his partner with a grin.

     "If I'd have known it was gonna make you like this, I wouldn't have
insisted on it!"

     "Sun Bear!" scolded the shaman. "This is no time for... "

     Falling Star suddenly stiffened. His friends saw his distress. Both
men cried out at the same time.

     "What? What is it?"

     The shaman turned. They all saw at once what was wrong. Blood Wind was
gone. Only a trail of blood remained. And that trail led into the cave of
mysteries.

     Pausing only long enough to unbind Eben, the three men began at once
followed the gory trace. Using one of his eldritch powders to strengthen
himself, Blood Wind had dragged himself away while the others were
occupied with freeing Eben from the influence of the Hell-Hound. The evil
sorcerer was close enough now to allow his magickal senses to track the
arcane emanations of the Elxa's mighty fetish to their source. And he had
gone far. What Falling Star had felt, he told his companions, was a call
from the Heart of Zoraxte.

     "That's what Blood Wind said he wanted to steal!" Eben informed his
companions as they followed the bloody path. It led the trio through the
painted chamber and beyond, penetrating deeper into the hidden recesses
of the cave of mysteries, which few heron men besides their shamen had
ever seen.

     "The Heart of Zoraxte? What's that?"

     "You'll soon see, Sun Bear," Falling Star replied grimly as he led the
way through passages in the rock, deeper into the earth.

     Within a short time, they came to the opening of a roughly spherical
chamber, a huge geode, lined with crystals that shone blood-red in the
light given off by something that amazed both Eben and Zack. The fading
daylight poured in through a hole above, and below was the object, a
meteor, that had made that hole. The Heart of Zoraxte.

     The irregularly shaped metal object was imbedded in the wall of the
geode. It was giving off a steady, visible pulse of brilliant red light.
The inexplicable phenomenon was as regular as a heartbeat.

     Blood Wind was there too. Though broken and bloody, he still clung to
his dreams of power. His hands were dusted with more of his strange, magic
powders and he was about to touch the fetish.

     "Stop!" Falling Star ordered.

     The dark sorcerer's head swung around to look at his pursuers. Then he
grinned evilly in triumph.

     "I've won!" he gasped as his hands made contact with the heart. "The
ultimate power is mine!"

     "No! You can't... "

     Zack and Eben had to restrain Falling Star, who seemed intent on
pulling Blood Wind away from the meteor. Their heightened senses were
warning them of an imminent danger, which soon presented itself. The
pulsing glow from the Heart of Zoraxte seemed to migrate to Blood Wind,
rising from his hands, up his arms, suffusing his body with a bright
crimson light that began to shine from within the evil sorcerer's broken
form.

     The wounds Zack had inflicted on Blood Wind miraculously healed and
the dark sorcerer stood on his own feet again. His rising was somewhat
ungainly, for he did not remove his hands from the glowing meteor as he
did so. It was soon apparent why. His hands were stuck fast to the Heart
of Zoraxte.

     Then, another odd thing began to happen. As the others watched, the
varicolored powders Blood Wind carried in his unique garment gushed forth
from the many pockets, as if drawn and carried by a aethereal wind. The
eldritch dusts were mixed and swirled around the evil sorcerer, merging
with the aura of crimson light that encompassed the man.

     Whatever was happening, it apparently was not what Blood Wind had
expected. He looked puzzled, then worried. That soon progressed to his
being absolutely terrified.

     "No!" he cried, twisting and trying in vain to pull away from the
pulsing fetish. It seemed Blood Wind could do nothing to break his contact
with the Heart of Zoraxte. "No!!" he cried out again.

     His voice sounded odd, fuzzy and distant. Then the three heron men who
watched saw why. Blood Wind's body was slowly beginning to sublime, the
solid flesh and bone melding in a bizarre fashion with the mixture of
sorcerous powders that swirled around him. All merged and became a fine
reddish mist that rose gradually upward.

     With a final, soft, 'Nooo... ' the last of the evil magician's body
became a formless mass of crimson smoke that drifted upward and wafted
away, out through the hole at the top of the geode. Despite the dramatic
events of the previous few minutes, the Heart of Zoraxte seemed to be
unchanged. It continued its regular pulsations as if nothing at all had
happened.

     "Well, I guess we won't be seein' him again!" Eben muttered.

     "Good riddance!" was Zack's comment.

     "Come, my brothers," Falling Star began, urging them away and leading
the way back into the warm sunlight.

     "Falling Star," began Eben as the trio moved towards the hot spring
in a shared desire to wash their weary bodies and relax, "is the Heart of
Zoraxte the source of your power?"

     "I couldn't believe some of the things I saw you do!" Zack added as he
stepped into the steaming water. "Even after what's happened to me, I was
surprised to see you use real magic."

     "My magickal skills were learned over many years, secrets handed down
from Elxa shamen of the past. As for the Heart of Zoraxte, it is indeed a
mighty fetish, and one you must promise to keep a secret," the shaman said
as he sat between his two friends, all three automatically moving to touch
each other as Eben and Zack agreed to Falling Star's request. "But it is
nothing compared to the energy raised when one man touches another with
love," Falling Star went on. "This is where all the wonders of the Elxa
truly originate. The spirits that protect and guide us help us because
they are attracted to our love, to the power generated by our man-loving
male hearts when we touch our brothers with tender desire... "

     The shaman's voice trailed off, distracted by what Eben's hands were
busy doing beneath the surface of the water. Zack saw what his lover was
doing to Falling Star and exchanged a smile with Eben as they silently
reached an agreement. He leaned over to kiss Falling Star, hoping he and
Eben could repay the shaman a little for all the help he had given them
with a bout of shared sex. And if their fun attracted a few more good
spirits to the valley of the heron in the process, well, that was just
fine with Zack.

* * *

EPILOGUE

* * *

     "Jeff. Jeff Symms."

     "Huh... wha... "

     Jeff opened his eyes. He felt bewilderment wash over himself almost at
once. He looked around, but could see nothing of the hunting camp he had
helped set up and later fall asleep in. The cowboy was lying naked in cool,
lush grass under a starry sky. Then he noticed who had spoken.

     Two Indians, as naked as he, squatted nearby. Jeff studied their faces
and was soon sure he had never seen either of them before. One of the pair,
apparently the one who had spoken earlier, spoke again.

     "Do not be afraid, Jeff."

     "You know me?"

     "Yes. I am Coq'wima. This is Xioga. We are here to protect you."

     "Protect me?" he repeated. "From what?"

     As if in answer to Jeff's question, a gust of wind came and the cowboy
raised his hand to shield his eyes. Suddenly he could see the hunting camp
again. Jeff saw his three companions wrapped in their blankets, sleeping
around the firepit, a mass of crimson coals from which an occasional flame
rose, flickered and retreated. And, most confusingly, he saw himself
sleeping there as well.

     "What is this?! How... "

     "Calm yourself, Jeff," Coq'wima cooed. "You are dreaming in a sacred
way. Watch and remember."

     As Jeff looked again, he perceived a darkness, a shadow among the
other shadows of the night, stealing over the camp. Somehow Jeff could
feel menace emanating from the shade, a palpable sense of its evil intent
that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Slowly it flowed over the
sleeping men, hovering above each as if studying them. Jeff held his
breath as the shade covered his sleeping form, but the evil force moved
on, apparently uninterested in him.

     The next man it encountered however was not so lucky. Jeff was sure he
felt an emotion coming from the shade, an impression of intense relief. The
animated darkness seemed to begin to shrink and Jeff realized with a start
that the evil thing was entering his companion's body. He turned at once to
the natives.

     "Can't you see what's happenin'? Help him!"

     "We cannot protect him." Coq'wima answered.

     "Why?"

     "He does not share our nature, Jeff."

     As Jeff wondered what Coq'wima meant, Xioga spoke up at last.

     "That one," he said, pointing at the man whom the shade had chosen,
"has a bad heart. Evil is attracted to evil."

     No sooner had Xioga ceased speaking than all three felt the shade's
attention shift to them, as if it had noticed the men for the first time.
Jeff felt waves of raw hate coming from the evil thing and recoiled from
it. The native pair faced the shade down unflinchingly.

     "You... " a cracked voice, seething with anger hissed. "You will not
stop me... I will have this man... "

     "Take him, evil one," Coq'wima returned. "It will avail you nothing."

     "None of our tribe will rest until you are destroyed," added Xioga.
All the while, the shade continued to contract and withdraw into the
sleeping man.

     "Your tribe... " the thing spat. "An unnatural gathering of weak men
and weaker spirits! I will crush it all utterly... someday... "

     The shade's voice trailed off as the last of it disappeared inside its
chosen victim. The natives watched awhile longer before turning their eyes
back to Jeff. The cowboy was vainly trying to make sense of what he had
seen.

     "Jeff," Xioga began, "the time will come when you will remember well
everything you have seen here. When you find your brothers, you will tell
them of this vision. It shall be a warning and allow them to prepare to
fight against the evil you felt."

     "Until that time," Coq'wima went on, "know you are protected by forces
ancient and powerful, spirits who are drawn to men like us."

     "'Like us'?"

     "Men who long for the company of other men. Men who rejoice in the
touch of another man. Men who possess gentle man-loving hearts. Men like
you, Jeff."

     "How... how did you know that?"

     "Because we are your brothers," Xioga whispered as he and Coq'wima
both reached out and touched Jeff. The cowboy gasped as he felt so much
more than just the pressure of fingers brushing gently across his bare
chest. He felt his companions' love for him, their need for him... Jeff
reached to touch them in return and the three sank into the tall grass,
seeking the pleasures that a man can only find with another man...

* * *

     Jeff opened his eyes. A moment before, it seemed, he had been lying
between Xioga and Coq'wima, all three men sweaty and spent by the vigorous
sharing of their bodies. As the sweet sensations of those masculine
pleasures still sparkled through his body, Jeff blinked.

     The cowboy was hard pressed to tell which felt more real, the weird
dream he had experienced or his presence in the hunting camp. He sat up and
looked at his companions. All were asleep, even Jeff's boss, Horace Gibbe,
the owner of the Wildcat Ranch.

     Horace had taken his foreman, Dick Horst, and two hands, Shep Williams
and Jeff, into the foothills of the southern Cascades to hunt. He also
wanted to explore what he considered to be the western boundary of his
property, as well as see if there were any passes through the mountains
into the lands that lay further to the west.

     Jeff frowned and scanned the area around the camp. Nothing seemed
amiss. The quiet, regular breathing of the man on his left faltered.

     "Jeff?" a sleepy voice managed. "What's up?"

     "Nothing, Shep," he answered. "A dream woke me up."

     "That fire needs fuel," Shep murmured, rising from his blankets.

     Jeff drank in the sight of his naked co-worker as Shep moved to the
firepit and laid some more wood on it, picking pieces from a nearby pile.
As the light grew, the third man groaned and turned over in his blankets.
He blinked at Shep and Jeff.

     "What're you up to?" he mumbled.

     "Just buildin' up the fire, Dick." Shep answered. Dick reached for his
pants and fumbled in the pocket for his watch.

     "Shit. Three A.M. I'm goin' back to sleep."

     Shep nodded. He was about to agree when the last member of the hunting
party woke up. The peace of the night was shattered as Jeff's boss jerked
up from his blankets, bathed in sweat, his face a mask of terror.

     "No!! Keep him away from me!" he screamed.

     "Mr. Gibbe! Horace!" Dick called as he scrambled from his blankets to
grab his employer by the shoulders. "Calm down! You're dreamin'!"

     "Are you sure?" Horace gasped, looking around at his stunned
companions. "Didn't you see that Injun?"

     "Huh? Injun? What Injun? Ain't no Injuns around here, boss."

     "But I saw him... " Horace pressed his hands against his face. "He
stood over me, said something like 'you'll do' and then... then... "

     "What, boss?"

     "Somehow he turned into a mist or something and went inside me! It
felt so real!"

     "It was a dream, boss. Just a bad dream. Things like that don't happen
in real life."

     "Yes... yes, you're right... " Horace agreed, calming down. He shook
his head. "Damn! What a nightmare!"

     As the others settled down and prepared to go back to sleep, Jeff
tried to do the same. But the memory of his own dream haunted him. Try as
he would, Jeff couldn't shake off the feeling that it was not a coincidence
that his dream and Horace's were linked. Jeff was sure he had seen
something similar to what his boss had. Whatever it was, both had felt its
evil intent.

     Drifting back into sleep, Jeff reviewed his dream, fixing its details
in his memory. He was supposed to tell someone about it, but who? His
brothers, or so Xioga had said. Who were they?

     Then an aspect of the dream came forcefully to Jeff. He saw Xioga and
Coq'wima again, handsome and aroused and naked... no, not naked, the cowboy
realized. They had worn something around their necks, pendants, small flat
stones engraved with an odd, curling glyph... Jeff's eyes snapped open then
and he could almost see that sign again in the starry sky over the camp.

     Jeff knew that symbol, had heard the stories connected to it. He liked
those native myths, but had never thought them anything but amusing
stories. Now he felt wonder as the possibility of them being real washed
over him. Did he have such brothers? Men like him who lived free, loving
as their natures bid them to, beyond the reach of a society hostile to
such love? Jeff thought of the spirits who were supposed to protect those
men and breathed a faint prayer to the stars above.

     "Help me find them... my brothers... the heron men... "

     Perhaps it was another dream, Jeff was not sure. But the stars
overhead seemed to shimmer in response. A nod from heaven. He closed his
eyes, feeling sure he would find his heron brothers someday.

* * *

THE END

* * *

of Heart Of The Heron

the fifth story in the series

'The Way Of The Heron'

by C. T. Creekmur

comments or suggestions are welcome at tcreekmur@hotmail.com

Copyright (c) 2009 by Charles T. Creekmur

"All Rights Reserved"

submitted to www.nifty.org 1/21/2009