M. Terry Green - Shaman, Healer, Heretic: An Urban Fantasy Thriller

L IVVY FORCED HERSELF to exhale slowly but didnt dare open her eyes. If she did, whoever was in the bedroom might see and know she was awake. The fact that the room was silent now didnt matter. Someone was there. Of that she was certain .

But who was it and what were they doing ?

She felt an aching in her lungs that was steadily rising to a burn .

Breathe, she thought .

She tried to inhale without moving her sides despite the feeling she couldnt get enough air. Panic had started to win .

The pillowcase under the back of her neck was wet with sweat, as was the single sheet under her folded arm. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what had woken her. It hadnt been sirens from the street or noise from one of the neighbors. She knew those sounds, all too well in fact. It wouldnt be a burglar. She didnt have anything to stealnobody in the building did. The only thing they could possibly wantwas her .

A sudden chill threatened to shudder down the entire length of her body. Too terrified to move, she realized she would soon have no choice. Except for the rapid swishing of blood pounding in her ears, the silence in the room continued .

Okay, enough. You have to look .

At first her eyelid wouldnt cooperate, like it had somehow gotten stuck. She slowly raised an eyebrow to help but when it finally popped open, it was too much. Quickly, she narrowed the gap to a tiny crack. Despite her eyelashes and the dim light of early morning, she could definitely see something next to the bedsomething large .

A scream began to build in her throat but it was cut off by a loud snap and a stinging pain on her upper arm .

Ow! she yelled .

In one rush of movement, she sat up, flung herself across the small mattress and hit the wall with her back .

From the far edge of the bed, Livvy had to look up, way up, to see the intruder in his entirety. He seemed to be looking right at her but the mask made it impossible to tell. She sucked in a breath and blinked as recognition sank in. Even for a techno-shaman, a kachina in the bedroom wasnt exactly part of the drill. In fact, it was impossible .

Its enormous feather-fringed mask tilted toward her. Heart hammering, she couldnt help but stare at the top-feathers as they twitched a slow path across the ceilinguntil she realized the kachina was reaching for her. She flattened against the wall, pushed to her feet and slid up, unsteady on the mattress. The kachina jumped back, the pellets in his rattle bursting to life before rolling back into silence as he froze. At the bottom of his turquoise-painted mask, a wide upside-down triangle made it look like he was grinning but the body language was tense .

What was a kachina doing in the real world? How could it manifest here? She had never heard of such a thing and it shouldnt even be possible. That was it, she thought. It was not possible; therefore this was not a Hopi god. This was an impostor. It had to be .

On rare occasion, one of her clients might show up unannounced. It was to be expected in her line of work and she didnt necessarily mind, unless they were possessed. But nobody had a key, not even SK. He had told her to get a baseball bat and now she wished she had. Her eyes darted around the tiny bedroom to the plastic and cardboard boxes she used as furniture. There was nothing that even resembled a weapon. The pellets in the rattle started to roll and she snapped her eyes back to the kachina. He didnt look like he had moved .

How had he gotten in? More importantly, she thought, how do I get out? The kachina was between her and the door and, even though she was standing, he towered over her .

Look, she said, unable to keep her voice from trembling. I dont know what this is about

He started to reach for her again .

No dont! she screamed .

He stopped, his black rectangle eyes staring for several long moments. Then, he carefully tucked the rattle into the top of his kilt and raised the flute in his other hand up to the painted triangle .

Livvy stood there, in her t-shirt and pajama bottoms, still on the mattress, transfixed for a moment by the strange pantomime. While the kachina continued the parody, she again gauged the distance to the door. As she did, a small sound started to creep into her consciousness. It was so soft that she couldnt be sure if she was imagining it or not. The most delicate notes started to float out of the end of the flute, breathy, with a reedy edge to them. Confused, she stared at the painted triangle of the kachinas mask and watched his fingers work over the holes of the flute. He really did seem to be playing the instrument. There was no melody but the music seemed mournful somehow and peaceful .

The details of his outfit began to sink in as well: the cotton pom-poms that hung from the kilt, the small deer-hoof tinklers suspended from the garters on his calves. He looked infinitely better than any kachina doll or dancer she had ever seen .

As if comforted by his playing, the kachina seemed to loosen up. He bent forward at the waist slightly and started to accompany himself on percussion with a gentle stamping of his feet and tinkling of the deer-hooves. Despite herself, Livvy felt tension release from her shoulders .

Wait, thought Livvy with a start. Wheres Nacho? Her eyes quickly scanned the floor. The little orange cat was nowhere to be seen. Shed brought him in last night, as usual. Normally, hed be curled up on her feet in the morning, but this morning was anything but normal. She hoped hed found himself a safe place .

On the cardboard box behind the kachina, her cell phone vibrated and then blared its ridiculously shrill ring. When he stopped playing and looked back, Livvy saw her chance. Move, she thought. Now or never. She pushed herself away from the wall, and then took a step forward and to the right to get by him, but he must have heard her. The kachina whipped the flute through the air so fast it whistled by itself, ending up in a horizontal position that barred her path. Despite the fact that he seemed to have her trapped, the jarring phone and her attempt to escape had apparently caused a crisis. Even as she recoiled from the flute, she realized that he had started to fade. From the moccasins up, as though an invisible water level was rising to swallow him, he was disappearing. Unable to step toward her, he flailed his arms out, grasping for her .

As one hand grazed her arm, a small blue spark appeared between them with a popping sound. She flinched from the pain, realizing now what had woken her. In only moments, the rising invisibility covered his torso, enveloped his arms, and shot up his mask until only the feathers were left. Then, he was gone. Except for her pounding heart and rasping breath, the room was silent .

Oh no, no, no. This cannot be. As she inched toward the spot where hed been standing, she reached out a quaking hand to test the air. Nothingexcept for a faint flinty smell of ozone. As frightening as an intruder had been, the prospect of a real kachina was worse. She looked down at the spot where he had danced. He hadnt left a trace. She looked through the bedroom door to the front door, which still had the chain pulled across and the deadbolt locked. Her mind raced. What had just happened? She drew in a shaky breath as her phone rang again, making her jump .