Seta's Fall

Chapter 8

Seta raced behind Atsidi, past the field of sheep and into the clearing between the mountains where the majority of hogans were. As they neared she saw white men battling with the Navajo. They used firearms and long daggers to attack the Navajo, sneaking upon them in the middle of the night, giving themselves the advantage.

Atsidi immediately went into action, charging toward the closest group of enemies he saw, spear raised high, his battle cry deafening. Seta remained behind, assessing the situation. The invaders seemed to be targeting the women and children, pulling them from hogans. A trio of men pulled two children from a hogan Taazbaa had been defending. The woman turned and lunged for her children but a man knocked her backward and pointed his firearm at her head. Atsidi turned, saw the white man raising his blade in the air, ready to behead his young son. He would never make it. He had no choice but to watch his family's slaughter.

"Not tonight," Seta growled as Atsidi's young son's face turned into Rialto's and flashbacks of the night her own child had been ripped from her arms fueled her rage. Her body flooded with fiery hot anger and two green flaming balls formed in her hands. She flung them at the men attacking Taazbaa and her children, setting the murderers ablaze. Instantly, two more fireballs formed in her hands. She flung them at the closest targets she saw, repeating the process over and over.

She walked through the center of the clearing, her body burning as one giant flame, as though her very blood boiled, her vision clouded with red. She heard the battle cries and screams of fear around her but focused only on the white men who dared invade the Navajo's land. She had only spent one night with these people, but they had given her back something precious and sheltered her from the sun. They were her people now and they would not die.

Fire continued erupting from her hands, turning its targets into ash.

"Witch! Witch!" she heard the white men scream as her body jerked multiple times and her legs gave out. She fell to her knees, realizing she'd been taken down somehow. Through the haze of her fury she never saw it coming. White men surrounded her in a circle, firearms and blades pointed, ready to finish her off, to keep her from her son for eternity. In that moment they all looked like Count Roberto Garibaldi. Seta looked through their skin, watched their blood pumping through their black hearts and her rage intensified, becoming too much to bear. She threw her head back and let loose her own battle cry. As it echoed off the rock walls, she could just barely hear the men's screams over it before a deafening pop drowned out all sound.

She saw that she kneeled in a circle of blood and eviscerated bodies. Looking down at her own body she saw wounds. So many wounds...

"Seta!" Atsidi ran toward her, dropped to his knees and slid through the bloody remains of their enemies to embrace her before she fell back, her life almost gone. He bellowed for the medicine man and pulled his hair away from his neck, exposing the long, thick column.

"Drink!" He commanded.

Seta shook her head. Her rage spent, she now drifted toward death peacefully, realizing how easy it would be to just let go and rest forever.

"Drink!" Atsidi pulled her into him, placing her mouth against his neck. "You saved my family. It is my duty to save you. Drink!"

Family. His wife. His children. A son. She had a son.

Rialto.

She had to stay for Rialto.

Instinct took over and Seta's fangs descended. She clamped down on Atsidi's thick neck and drank greedily to replenish the blood she'd lost in battle and give her the necessary strength to heal her wounds.