It’s the last thing I think before I fall asleep.
I wake to the smell of piñon burning and the sound of a crackling fire. I whip my head up, thinking I’m back in Black Jet Girl’s house with the creepy buzzard brothers, but I quickly realize I’m outside, in the shade of the great rock. The exact same place I fell asleep.
There’s a small campfire in a hole in the ground about ten feet in front of me, and it’s burning merrily, warming the chilly morning air.
Whoa! Morning air! I stifle a yawn, stretch my arms, and look around. Sure enough, the sun is barely coming up on the horizon. I slept through the entire night. So much for keeping watch…
Panic hits me and I scramble to my feet. Where’s Black Jet Girl? Is she in danger again? And if it’s already morning, that means I missed Łizhin!
“Hello?” I shout. “Black Jet Girl? Łizhin? Is anyone there?”
I tell myself to calm down. If there’s a campfire, chances are good that I haven’t been left all alone out here. But that logic doesn’t stop my stomach from bunching up with worry.
“We’re here, Nizhoni,” comes a musical voice from the wooded area beyond our sheltering rock. Black Jet Girl walks toward me, a small black bird perched on her shoulder.
“Łizhin?” I ask. I rush forward and give her a…uh…pat on the head. “Is that you?”
The bird flies to the ground. Within seconds, she has expanded back to riding size. “It’s much easier to take a walk through the forest when you aren’t as big as a tree,” she explains. “Black Jet Girl was just telling me about how you defeated the bináá’ yee aghání. I am very proud of you, Nizhoni.”
“Thanks,” I say, shuffling my feet through the dirt and feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. “Your feather came in handy.”
“You had the ingenuity to use it,” the bird says with sparkling eyes. “Are you ready to go to Spider Rock and be reunited with your friends? If we leave now, I can have you there before breakfast. Then I’ll return to help Black Jet Girl make sure the mountain is cleansed of monsters. For now.”
“For now?”
“The deaths of those two will discourage other attacks, but only temporarily. If you fail to stop Mr. Charles by sunrise the day after tomorrow, there will be more monsters on the sacred mountains than we can fight. The threat is still very real.”
“And my dad…Do you know where he is?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer. “How he is?”
“His fate depends on your success.”
“Then we better go!”
I rush to grab my backpack. I sling it over my shoulders and hurry to Łizhin. She lowers her head to allow me to climb onto her back, and I settle against the warm down of her neck.
“Wait!” Black Jet Girl says. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Backpack? Check. Hoodie? Check. Amazing heroic story to tell Davery and Mac? Check, check. “I think I’ve got everything.”
“The gift for Na’ashjéii Asdzáá,” she says.
Duh. I almost neglected the most important thing!
Black Jet Girl reaches up and touches the side of her head. I hadn’t noticed before, but she’s wearing long beaded loop earrings. She pulls one from her earlobe…or disconnects it, I should say, since her whole body, including her clothes and jewelry, is one big piece of animated rock. She winces when she does it.
I’m sorry for causing her more pain after all she’s been through lately. “Are you sure you’re strong enough to give me a part of yourself ?”
“I am now, because you allowed me time to rest.” The guardian holds out her earring on an open hand. “Take this to Spider Woman so she may refashion it as she wishes. It’s a part of the mountain, just as I am. A worthy gift for a Holy Person from a warrior.”
I get the Holy Person part, and at first I think she’s calling herself a warrior, but then I catch on—she means me. I gulp, feeling sort of undeserving but also really proud.
“It’s important to always give your best,” she explains to me with a soft smile. “Do not hold back, and do not be afraid to sacrifice. The things that mean the most to us often have the most power. If my part of the gift cost me nothing, then it would mean nothing.”
She shakes her palm, gesturing for me to take the earring. So I do, tucking it into the padded pocket in my backpack along with the white shell from Sisnaajiní. Two down and two to go. I can’t wait to see what Mac and Davery got from their mountains.
“Thank you,” I whisper to Black Jet Girl. “I mean, ahéhee’,” I add hastily. Got to remember to speak Navajo when I know the right words, and it never hurts to double up the thank-yous.
“Come back and visit.” She says it so sadly I’m not sure she really means it. Maybe she thinks I’ll never return, since my first visit wasn’t exactly a relaxing vacation. Or maybe she thinks I’m not going to live long enough to see her again. That’s not terrifying or anything.
Łizhin pumps her powerful wings and launches us into the sky. I dig my hands into her feathers and hold on tight. I watch Black Jet Girl waving at us until she becomes a tiny speck, and soon the entire mountain fades behind us.
“How long until we get to Spider Rock?” I shout loud enough to be heard over the wind.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Black Jet Girl, but I have some bad news, Nizhoni.”
My stomach dives. Mac! Davery! I knew we shouldn’t have split up!
“What is it?”
“I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”
Łizhin won’t say more about what happened, so I spend the entire journey to Spider Rock imagining the worst. What if Mac and Davery had walked right into a monster ambush?
Up until this point, the land below has been all high mesas—tall, flat-topped mountains sprinkled with sage shrubs, creosote bushes, and cedar trees. But now we’re flying over a lush valley. I can see cornstalks growing in tidy rows near a stream, and the smooth red-rock walls are decorated with drawings. They don’t look like much this high up, but I know they must be petroglyphs. We learned about them last year in Mr. Lee’s social studies class. I really want to get up close and take a better look.
“Where are we?” I ask Łizhin. “This isn’t the Grand Canyon, is it?”
“No. This is Canyon de Chelly. We are in Dinétah now, the heart of Navajo Nation.”
“I’ve only ever been to shimásání’s house,” I explain. “This is beautiful!”
We swoop down, skimming over the river that cuts through the canyon.
“Whoa, what is that?” I ask. In front of us is the tallest, skinniest rock I’ve ever seen. It’s standing all by itself in the middle of the canyon, looking like the Empire State Building but made from red rock.
“That is our destination—Spider Rock. It marks the home of Na’ashjéii Asdzáá.”
“Is she nice?” I ask tentatively. With a name like Spider Woman, it is highly possible that nice is not one of her qualities. I should have asked Mr. Yazzie earlier, but I was distracted by too many other things. Now, as we’re approaching Spider Rock, it seems very important.