Bigodii’s gaze on him.
“Thunder,” Hastiin Bigodii said at last, “you’re named for Yellow Thunder, who had the power to find things. You, too, have that gift, though you still haven’t accepted it and learned how to use your ability.”
Max started to argue, then clamped his mouth shut. He was a man who relied on facts. Logic was the only foundation he trusted. That’s why he’d become a police officer, and later a detective, for an Anglo department outside the Rez.
Then the unimaginable had happened.
After that, Max had been forced to carve out a new life for himself. The land between the sacred mountains, the Rez, was his home now, and the men around him were his brothers in every way that counted. He wouldn’t fail them.
“I am the man for this job,” Max said. “John Harris, the ex-detective from the Farmington Police, betrayed us. Though my partner paid with her life, she also made sure Harris didn’t find what he tried to steal—the tribe’s platinum. I know the way my partner thinks—thought—and can figure out where she hid it.” He released a deep breath. “She and I worked together as police officers for many years. That makes me the logical choice for this assignment. I ask the Brotherhood to give me a chance to complete what we started. Let me restore the harmony and balance, the hózhg.”
“Pride—and revenge—that’s what’s really driving you, isn’t it?” The challenge came from a warrior known as Wind. Although Max and he were also first cousins, here, they were bound by something deeper than kinship—an unqualified allegiance to the Brotherhood of Warriors.
“It’s more than that,” Max replied firmly. “My partner died defending that platinum, but now her reputation’s in question. Too many are convinced that she was involved in the theft, even though she forfeited her life protecting that shipment. Her sacrifice cries out for justice.”
“You’re too personally involved. That’ll decrease your effectiveness. She was a well-paid courier who was hired to deliver the platinum our tribe purchased. That’s all,” another warrior he knew only as Smoke said, his voice a mere whisper. “She knew the risks.”
Max looked at Hastiin Bigodii. In Navajo, the words simply meant “man with the bad knee.” But his real name had power and would never be used lightly.
“I can fix this—I can right what went wrong,” Max said in an even stronger voice.
“It’s your gift—what brought you back here to us, Stargazer. That may, in the end, prove invaluable,” Hastiin Bigodii said quietly, adjusting a piece of pine at the edge of the fire.
Max didn’t answer. Gift? He had many words for it, but that had sure never been one of them.
“But you haven’t developed your abilities, and without that…” Hastiin Bigodii added, leaving the sentence hanging.
“As you yourself have admitted on many occasions,” Smoke pressed, “your abilities as a stargazer are questionable. Under the circumstances it’s not much of an advantage. You’re also saddled with personal baggage that could interfere with what you have to do. Someone with no ties to this case may be a better choice.”
Smoke was lean and built for speed. Once during training, Max had seen him take down three of the Brotherhood’s top fighters in a move so quick no one had even seen it coming. Max knew Smoke wanted the case, but this one was his.
“My connection to my partner’s family will open doors that’ll remain closed to anyone else,” Max insisted.
“I’ll be seeing my partner’s sister soon. She may not know me personally, but she’s heard about me from her sister for years. That’ll help foster trust between us. She’s an asset I can use to help me do what needs to be done.”
Silence settled over all the ones gathered there. At long last Hastiin Bigodii spoke. “Thunder, you are my choice. The insurance companies will take their time responding to the Tribal claim, and without the jewelry sales that platinum represents, our craftsmen will go hungry this winter. The tribe can’t afford to wait.” Though his voice dropped to a whisper, his words reverberated with conviction. “It’s time for us to get to work. You’ll have the full support of the Brotherhood behind you.”
As the warriors left the chamber, Max hung back, knowing Hastiin Bigodii would have some final words for him.
Hastiin Bigodii remained seated next to the fire and across from Max. He didn’t speak again until they were alone.
“Your jish,” Hastiin Bigodii said, pointing Navajo-style with his lips to the medicine bundle at Max’s waist. “Is the crystal there along with the other items I gave you?”
“Yes. I’ve also made sure the crystal is well coated in the pollen you gathered for me.”
Hastiin Bigodii nodded in approval. “Keep the jish with you at all times and under all circumstances. During the time of the beginning, a crystal was placed in the mouths of our people so that their spoken words would come true. Pollen represents safety and well-being. Together, they become a prayer that’ll draw those blessings to you.”
“It’s a powerful gift. Thank you,” Max said with a nod.
Hastiin Bigodii said nothing for several long moments, then at long last spoke again. “Remember one thing. Your greatest strength is inside you. Honor who and what you are, and everything else will fall into place.”
Max knew what he was referring to and felt obliged to point out a hard truth. “I’ve tried crystal gazing several times to find the answers we need, but nothing’s come to me. Maybe I don’t have the ability anymore…if I ever really did, that is.”
“The missing child you found owes his life to your gift. What you did back then was not a product of logic and you know it,” Hastiin Bigodii answered. “Let go—trust that there’s more to life than what the eyes can see. In your heart you already know this.”
Max didn’t meet his gaze. To do so would have been seen as a sign of great disrespect. “The mind works better when the heart is kept out of the equation.”
Hastiin Bigodii smiled, but said nothing as he stood and left.
Though Max had found the elder’s reaction unsettling, he refused to dwell on it now. He had a job to finish.
Max smothered the burning embers with a bucket of sand left for that purpose, and departed the cave shortly thereafter. With the fading glow of the moon to show him the way, he climbed down the ladder to the piñon juniper forest below.
Clouds covered the blue-black sky and, as he reached the ground, thunder shook the earth beneath his feet. Max glanced at the growing storm clouds above him. Their anger mirrored his own. Sound and fury would be his soul’s dark companions as he searched for answers in the days ahead.
Chapter One
Kris Reynolds adjusted her baseball cap, protecting her light brown eyes with the bill, and continued repotting a Great Basin Sage into a larger decorative pot.
She loved working with growing things—plants that would add character to any garden or household and give their new owners pleasure for years to come. It was part of the reason she’d opened Smiling Cactus Nursery, a place where she’d be sharing gardener’s
