Way of the Heron

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