Gihli and Waya led the procession down the hill towards the spirit circle. Waya took his steps straight and slow while Gihli seemed to bounce with excitement, bumping his shoulder every few steps. Finally they got to the bottom and Gihli sat while Waya circled her before sitting and licking her ears and face.

Nate paused some thirty feet back to stare at them, and then Marshall placed a hand on his shoulder. "Love is grand at any level in nature, what they share is the simple pleasure of companionship. Waya knows what's coming, Gihli does not."

"The wolf will remain after the man's spirit departs, she will still have her companion," Nate said.

"But Waya will not be the same, will he? Just as we shall not be the same, there will be changes in our lives," Marshall said. "I'm not afraid of changes; we evolve as a species every day."

Nate smiled. "You have no idea what's going to happen, do you?"

"Nope, and I'm not sure I want to think about it too hard either. The deck of cards is stacked in our favor; all that remains is to play the game. I've decided you're a very strong player, just inexperienced."

"Are we going to set up?" Ted said from behind them. "This stuff is getting heavy."

Nate moved on down the hill to the clearing and helped Ted with the camera cases. They stopped to look at the setting of the 'rocks' Evan had provided. Fiberglass and heavy wire, these camera enclosures had been made for capturing nature subjects out in the field. Two of them had been placed on the ground at the base of trees on opposite sides of the clearing, and they looked like nothing more than a couple of small boulders.

The sun would be down in an hour so Ted began the camera placement and then clipped the remote control units in place. Sound would come from a microphone Nate would wear and one fixed to the roof of the shelter. Once everything was in place Ted pocketed the control unit and joined them by the fire pit.

Marshall would hold a vigil most of the night and said that the doorway to the spirit world usually opened with the first rays of the sun. It would still be dark down here in the valley but the forest would come alive with life once the sun began to rise.

"There will be the noise of dawn surrounding us, and then that will suddenly cease as the doorway opens. I imagine several figures will appear at the door, but we will sit and allow them to approach us."

"What will they look like?" Ted asked.

"To you? If you're going to be looking in that little monitor screen up at the house it may seem like a video game. A ghost has both form and shape, he will look like a human…and yet not. Many of them have been dead a long time; the body was corrupted before the spirit was trapped inside. Nate and I will also smell them, the scent of earth and rot, the smell of death. But we will hear voices from the other side, the shrill quiet screams of those adrift in agony. Only the strong may pass the doorway. I believe many of them were driven to madness before death."

"Then Usti Waya was lucky," Nate said.

"Yes, he is strong, and yet his agony was just as real. When he returns he will slide away down river to the village of the Ani Tsaguhi, that most ancient of places where the Bear Clan first came into being."

"There's an actual village?" Ted asked.

"That was long ago in the past. Any trace of it has vanished, at least in this world. Usti Waya will find it, nothing disappears in the spirit world," Marshall said. He smiled at Ted. "I admire your curiosity; will you stay with us until I tell you to leave?"

Ted grinned. "You know it."

By six-thirty it was dark and Marshall lit the fire in front of his hut. The seven small fire pits had been laid and would be lit towards dawn as the ritual proceeded. Under the shelter was a whole stack of firewood, enough to last them through the night.

Nate was bundled up in his blanket coat and Marshall smiled. "I have made many of those. The wool on the outside may get wet but it doesn't allow the cold to seep through, might hit the forties out here tonight." Ted had his down parka while Marshall wore just a robe.

"Don't you feel the cold?" Ted asked.

"Sure, but I have the fire and warm company." Then Marshall laughed. "I also have my long-johns on as well."

"So…how do we kill ten hours," Ted asked.

"You may sleep if you wish, but I plan to think and tell Nate a few ghost stories to prepare him for the encounter. Our ghosts beyond that door are angry spirits. But as I explained before, they are afraid we will forsake their memory and that's the source of their anger. This is why the Atohuna is being performed this evening; they will feel the will of those at the ceremony."

"Evan will make sure everything goes just fine before he shows the film," Nate said. "I don't know the shaman Jacob Waters, but you must."

"Jacob is still a young man, but his knowledge of herbal medicine has no match in the Qualla. He is not a shaman who seeks out spiritual matters as I do, but I'm glad Joseph chose him as the replacement," Marshall said. "It's just sad that Timothy wasted his life over a petty feeling of jealousy."

"I imagine he's a spirit now, will we see him here?" Ted asked.

"No, he could not trespass on my land or enter the circle. His spirit will remain in that museum for at least the week, but probably longer. If there is anger on his part it will be directed at himself, he did a foolish thing. To believe something in the face of proof to the contrary is just absurd, it cost him his life."

"I told him he was of the Wolf Clan," Nate said. "He must have been delusional."

Marshall shook his head. "We may never know why his thoughts told him otherwise, but we now know the truth. In this world there is truth and there is faith, often they travel the same road. But Timothy put too much stock in faith even as he faced the truth, he lost…and our lives go on without him."

Marshall stirred the coals with a stick and the flames lit up the dark recesses of the clearing. The sound of animals and birds settling in for the evening drifted in from the darkness. A rustle of leaves and suddenly Waya and Gihli entered the firelight, dropping down beside Marshall.

From out of the darkness came the faint howl of a wolf. Waya's ears went up but his head didn't move. Marshall laughed at Waya's indifference and Gihli seemed to smile as well.

"The howls have become more frequent and yet remain up on the mountainside; Waya is king down here in the valley. But it might interest you to know I've seen several bears down by the lake in the past week. There are definitely more creatures moving in the forest this year."

"Would that have anything to do with what you're planning?" Ted asked.

"Could be, animals seem to understand us better than we do them," Nate said.

"Could be they're smarter than we are," Marshall said. "I think in most of our myths and legends that a great deal of credit goes to the animals for showing man the way to live. Tobacco, corn…even fire was brought to man by insects, birds and animals. We seem to come off like some big clumsy oafs wandering in the woods until they took pity on us."

"What time is it?" Nate asked.

Ted moved his arm so he could read his watch by the firelight. Marshall looked up at the sky. "About eight o'clock I imagine," He said. Ted nodded. "Seven fifty-five, how did you do that?"

"I have good eyesight, I saw your watch when you turned your wrist," Marshall laughed.

Nate shook his head. "I thought you were going to be praying all night long."

"You want me to sit here and mumble Cherokee words in some form of incantation? I can do that, but why bother. That goes over well in your film, and I'll do it some more just for you…but that's Hollywood. Words will have no affect on the outcome of what we have planned here."

"Damn, Marshall…you're blowing that shaman image," Ted said.

"Good, this is the modern age, it needs a little updating. All the smoke and mirrors, waving magic wands and such, it's just theatre. In simpler terms, what I do to effect the changes you see is mental, it happens between my ears.

"I know you've seen me move my lips in prayer, or heard me say things out loud; I might as well be reading my grocery shopping list. But a public performance requires a show, the audience expects it."

"Are you saying all shamans do is act?" Nate asked.

"No, some of them feel the need to say the prayers, it focuses those thoughts. If I was in the healing arts I could see giving a patient the medicines and performing a ritual. It instills confidence in the shaman, that's part of the healing process. But here I sit in the middle of the woods waiting for a spirit doorway to open, what can I possibly say?"

"What do you do to focus your thoughts?' Ted asked.

"See, I knew I could trust him to ask the right questions. I remember...well, there's an awful lot to remember at my age."

"When did you first know about your abilities?" Ted asked.

"I had the feelings even before I knew anything about being gay," Marshall said, and then he laughed. "Oh, you mean these mental abilities. I was born with them…do you really want me to go back that far?"

"We have all night," Ted said.

"How true," Marshall sighed. "It all took place in stages, but then I have the wisdom to look back and qualify the things that happened to me. I was a strange little boy, or so my family thought…"

Marshall smiled and looked across the fire. "I'm still a bit strange, but at least that's something. As I told you I grew up on a farm, not a big one, just everything my father and his two brothers could handle. But we had chickens and goats, even a couple of cows. But what I remember most were the dogs, four of them, wild as could be.

"I was about five when I first discovered that I understood them almost as well as the people in my life…maybe better. It happened right after one of them bit me in a moment of impatience, his not mine. I learned something from that, and I've gone on learning about animals ever since."

Ted nodded. "We have three dogs, not exactly what you would call wild animals."

"We've never had dogs at the campsite, Bill's afraid they'll aggravate the customers and cause problems," Nate said.

"Well our dogs used to follow me out to the woods and fields and I learned to hunt while watching them," Marshall said. "You know a pack works together to bring down prey; I'd follow along and see them stalk a wild pig or a deer. But they killed for food, I had no such need.

"I was about five the first time we came upon a doe out in the woods with a fawn hidden in the brush. The mother ran away, trying to lead the dogs away from her baby, but that didn't work. The dogs surrounded the bushes and were ready to go in for the kill when I stepped in and stopped them.

"My father was astounded when I came home with a small deer laid out across my shoulders; he was even more surprised that it was alive. I was bleeding from a dog bite on my arm, but I carried that fawn into our barn and kept it in a pen for two days. But then my father made me take it back to the woods and release it before it starved to death. That was my first animal adventure."

"You saved its life," Nate said.

"Might have, at least I wanted to. But there were a whole string of foxes, raccoons, snakes and squirrels that followed. My parents were tolerant, the dogs were not. The dog that bit me was called Di-la, which is Cherokee for skunk. He smelled pretty bad most of the time and was the leader of the pack until I took over.

"He killed one of my foxes and I stopped feeding him for a week to show my displeasure. I know he understood my anger because he then started killing our chickens and left the carcasses on the porch. My father said the only thing to do was shoot him, but I talked him out of it. Di-la probably thought I was crazy when I staked him out in front of the hen house, but his chain wasn't long enough to reach them.

"I fed him and kept him chained up just out of reach of the hens. I sat in the dirt and talked to him just as I would a person until I felt he understood that chickens were off limits, and then I cut him loose. The story of Di-la ended two days later when he killed another chicken and my father shot him dead.

"What I understood from all this is that behavior is learned, and once an animal learns a bad habit it's almost impossible to change. But my father had me dig a deep hole right outside the hen house and bury Di-la there; the other dogs never went near the chickens again."

"So you didn't change the dog's mind about chickens, did you really think you could?" Ted asked.

"Yes, but I was too young to have an affect on Di-la, he was already set in his ways. That's why when I heard about Nathaniel and his bears I understood the significance, he has a gift. I grew up trying to work my influence on farm animals, it never happened. Goats are only motivated by food, cows are just plain dumb. It's just at that age I never had the chance to try it on people until I was in school."

"You think we can influence the thoughts of people?" Nate asked.

"Of course we can, just not always like you think. The greatest way most people are influenced is through religion. It's sad to say that the Christians came along and thought the Cherokee were godless people with no coherent image of the divine…how wrong they were. But because of that belief we were called pagans and a lot worse.

"If anything the Cherokee belief system is very complex. The rituals of prayer are more complicated than what you'll find in a church, and to my mind a lot closer to the divine creature we call The Creator. The divide between the spirit world and our own is negligible; we live in both at the same time."

"How is that possible?" Ted asked.

"Think about those things the Cherokee value most. Prayers are given for health and success in planting, for hunting, fishing and years ago for war. These are not divine things, just the tangible needs in our world. The Creator has a direct effect on our everyday lives…and also on death. There is no Cherokee heaven or hell…no 'happy hunting ground' awaits us. No, the prayers at death are a celebration of the life that was lived, we don't fear death, it's an inevitable part of life."

"Then what of this spirit world you see on the other side of that doorway?" Ted asked.

"Ahh, the best question yet. Spirits are a part of our world, not some distant place. Death does not destroy the spirit that exists inside of us, it becomes free of our bodies…or it should. The spirits that have become the ghosts I see cannot free themselves of the body; they have no place to rest.

"Usti Waya will never appear to you in his true form, he knows the horror in that image. He draws substance from Waya as he makes a change to human form, only I know the truth. He will resume that decaying form only after he passes through the doorway, you will never see it.

"But his body is irrelevant, because this time when he goes back it will have a resting place and his spirit will know peace. Just remember, the spirits are always with us in this world because they are a part of it. I may not be a man of prayer but my mind will never lose touch with him.

"And so I go back to Nate's question about influence. People tend to believe what they see and your film will prove my point. That viewing will create all kinds of reactions, not all of them positive. But the controversy will open some minds to new thought, that's influence."

The explanation was simple, and yet the way Marshall spoke was something Ted found compelling. It made him glad he'd started one of the cameras some time ago, the one aimed at the fire pit. With the tiny remote in his pocket he could start and stop the filming at will, that way he didn't have to be around when things began to happen.

"I'm sorry you'll lose Usti Waya," Ted said.

Marshall nodded. "He's been a delight, I've learned so much from him. Life gave me a wonderful companion in Ben; I'll always have that memory. But my friendship with you both has served to inspire me. Maybe someday my path will cross that of another, but it will never be the same as it was."

"I think relationships begin with a positive thought," Nate said.

"How right you are," Marshall said. "I'm sure by now you don't believe what you've forged with Ted was by accident. A gifted mind senses the possible and reaches out to touch the thought which then becomes a reality."

"My parents dragged me out to Boone, I didn't want to go," Ted said. "But life was pretty empty, I had no real objectives. You think Nate's mind reached out to me?"

Marshall sighed. "I think you were open to the possibilities of finding a relationship with another boy. Only you can say what the feelings were when you first met."

Nate grinned. "I saw him naked in the shower room when we first met, that was…um, inspiring."

Ted laughed. "Yeah, all I could see were his eyes…those beautiful eyes." And then his face became soft, his eyes shown in the firelight. "I'd never met someone so…so compelling. The other boys in my life were so ordinary, but Nate…I was stunned for a while until…"

Marshall smiled. "I believe in love at first sight for a very good reason. By the time you first met I imagine there had been years of doubt. Discovering you're gay at any age is filled with unreasonable fears. But then you take that chance, the one your mind tells you is right.

"I don't think it's just luck, there are forces at play we can't always understand. Nate has no idea of the effect his thoughts can create, he's still learning. But the events will speak for themselves when we're done here and we have time to look back in wonder. Nothing like this has ever been done before."

There was silence for some time after that statement, each of them caught up in their own thoughts. The later it became the more of a chill settled in around them, and yet they didn't find it uncomfortable. The moon rose as a pale sliver of light which allowed the stars to dominate the heavens. Marshall fed the fire with small twigs to radiate heat, but the clearing was bathed in star light.

"Ten thousand years ago man must have felt insignificant when he looked up at the stars," Marshall said. "Without knowledge it must have been difficult to grasp the concept of what a tiny point of light in the sky was, much less thousands of them. But they were a constant even as they moved; there was no feeling of the earth rotating to give them a clue.

"So every ancient culture around the world developed their own explanation of what those tiny lights were. The Cherokee identified the star formations with nature and the shapes of animals. The white man saw other shapes and were the first to discover planets, but everyone felt awe when they looked up…we still do. When I was a boy I wanted to be an astronaut."

"You did? Wow, I didn't know you had any interest in science?" Nate said.

Marshall chuckled. "Well that was the issue, I didn't. Not that I could have learned that much in the schools I attended. I just wanted to be the first Cherokee in space. The word Cherokee means 'real people,' Ani-yun-wiya, but there was nothing real about my thinking in those days. I just wanted out of here any way I could."

"But you left…you travelled," Ted said.

"Oh yeah, I've been around the world a few times, Ben and I went lots of places. His father was a general in the Army; they travelled a lot when Ben was growing up after the war. That would be the Second World War, it ended just a few weeks before I was born. Ben and I met at the university, he was a grad student, and I was a freshman.

"He taught there for several years after we met, said he was waiting for me to grow up. He was in literature and his knowledge of life gave me a vision of the world so he felt like he had to show it to me. And in return he became immersed in my culture and history. But I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that it was Ben who opened my eyes and made me see myself as a Cherokee."

"I can't imagine how you felt when he died," Nate said.

"His life stood for so much, his death still has meaning to me. I became the gatekeeper because of him, his body is laid to rest but his spirit endures. We had this land for almost thirty years together, long enough to learn of the wonders surrounding us. The moment was sad; I had grief until his spirit entered me and gave me joy once again."

Marshall smiled. "I know that sounds strange, but I still see him in my mind, and sometimes at night I come here and wait to see if he will talk to me. He is not one of the ghosts, his spirit is in the land, the trees…and the wind that gently blows."

As if on cue a breeze blew in off the waters of the lake and it felt unseasonably warm. Marshall looked at the trees as they stirred and then down at the fire which burned brighter. "He talks to me like this, I feel his presence."

Ted shivered, this felt a little spooky. His eyes met Nate's and they shared the feeling. He could understand how close two people could become, the shared spirit experience that Marshall spoke about. There were moments when he knew Nate was putting thoughts in his head, he embraced the concept. Love meant that two could finally become one, and nothing seemed impossible.

Marshall finally looked up at the sky and spoke. "Go on, Ted, the dawn is fast approaching…clear out of here. And whatever you do stay on the patio, don't come back down here until I call your name. Go…now."

It was so sudden, but Ted gave Nate a quick hug and ran up the path towards the house. Marshall stood and took his stick from the fire, the end still in flames as he thrust it into the small fires around them that represented each clan.

"One for the Long Hair, one for the Deer….one for the Bird and one for the Blue Holly. Then we have the Red Paint Clan, the Wolf…and if I'm not mistaken the remaining one is yours, Nathaniel."

Nate took the stick from Marshall's hand and applied the small flame to the fire pit. Now there were seven small fires surrounding them. "Come and sit beside me," Marshall said and Nate sat down by the central fire.

"The doorway is beginning to open, I can feel it." Marshall said. "Just remember, listen if they speak. Think before you answer."

"Answer? Why would they talk to me?" Nate asked.

"They will think of you as the weaker spirit because of your age, but I think you'll surprise them. They will do nothing to harm you, but they will offer a threat if they think it will turn things their way."

"What exactly are we doing, Marshall?"

"We're here to humble the exalted. In the modern vernacular that means they think their shit doesn't stink, but we're going to prove them wrong."

Nate almost laughed, but Marshall signed for silence. Nate wondered if Ted got that recorded, but then he was sure the cameras were rolling and the microphone attached to his lapel was on.

The thin wisps of fog that had lain on the surface of the lake most of the night moved up and begun to flow into the forest, filling the spaces between the trees and clinging to the ground. It surrounded them with a mist and Nate hoped the camera's view wasn't obstructed. But the fog did not enter the clearing; instead it built a wall around them.

"I don't see anything," Nate said.

"Don't look directly between those two trees, look further west. You will notice a darkness that grows, like a black hole that absorbs everything. Soon it will spread and fill the space between the trees."

Nate could see the darkness spreading just as Marshall had said it would. If he shifted his eyes back to look at the center it was as if his vision was being sucked into the black vortex beyond.

"I'm sure we're under observation by now…time for a little show," Marshall said. With that he lifted a pinch of powder from the pouch in his lap and tossed it in the fire. A burst of yellow and blue flame leapt ten feet in the air. "Leftover from the Fourth," Marshall said with a chuckle.

In reply there was a red flash from inside the doorway, which had now spread from tree to tree. "Ah, the door is about to open…it's impressive and…"

A ripping sound filled the clearing and a red seam appeared up the middle of the blackness. Then with a thunderclap the blackness seemed to shatter and fall away.

"…and I was going to say loud. You will soon see that the ghosts are all about noise and bluster, it's only an attempt to get attention. Never be in a hurry with them. Watch how I deal with them."

There was movement beside him and Nate looked to see Gihli and Waya drop to the ground and stare at the doorway.

"When will Usti Waya return?" Nate asked.

"Later, after the negotiations are done," Marshall said.

"Negotiations…for what?"

"It's their world, they control access…we will have to barter."

The space beyond the door seemed gray and lifeless, but Nate could see shapes moving, something was in there. A deep groaning sound emanated from the void, and the sound slowly rose to a high pitched keening before the groaning returned. Nate's eyes shifted towards Marshall to watch his reactions and when he looked back they were no longer alone in the clearing.

There were four apparitions…creatures…standing just inside Marshall's spirit circle. The smell filled the air around them…there was no doubt these things were dead. Three seemed inconsequential compared to the one who stood right in front of the fire ring, Nate had no doubt that this was White Bear. Marshall had said the ghost was his adversary...and he looked every bit of that.

Marshall looked up and smiled. "Ahh, there you are," He said in the Cherokee language.

White Bear remained standing; his figure was more imposing that way. His clothing was old and tattered, except for the bear skin he wore like a cape around his shoulders. The bear's skull rested on top of the ghosts' head and fur extended down the arms until the bear paws were tied around White Bear's wrists.

The buckskin shirt he wore was much like Nate's and the ghost also wore a necklace, one that was large and obscenely ornate. Nate had on his blanket coat; White Bear could not see what was being worn underneath. He could not see the shirt and the tooth, which Nate figured was a good thing for the moment.

"Why have you brought this boy to our meeting?" White Bear asked. His voice was hallow and sounded quite breathless.

"Why don't you ask him?" Marshall said. "He has no reason to fear you."

White Bear stared down at the boy with a fierce expression in his eyes and found no fear looking back; Nate could see this caused him concern. The spirit world was part of the ancient past and Nate lived in the modern world, the ghost didn't know what to make of him.

"Why are you here?" White Bear asked.

"I came to light the fire of my clan," Nate said, his arm sweeping in an ark at the seven small fires before them. "Do you know which one it is?"

A riddle…a challenge to White Bear's knowledge. There were only seven clans in the Qualla; he would have to guess because the boy was giving him no clues.

"I know every clan and all the people in them," White Bear said. He nodded at Marshall. "The Wise One belongs in the Wolf Clan, so I should guess that is yours as well…but it is not, I cannot be fooled."

He looked at the small fires closely and dropped something in one of them. Whatever the substance was it produced little smoke and instead the fire was extinguished. "That was the one you made for the Wolf Clan….am I right?"

Nate had no idea; he only knew which one had been made to represent the Bear Clan. Marshall had laid the other fires. "You chose well, Hay…White Bear." Marshall nodded to the ghost and received a huge smile in return.

It was a lie, and Nate knew it. Marshall was stroking the ego of this creature and had almost revealed his true name aloud. White Bear would be upset if Marshall said his name, but only if he believed that Nate had some magical powers that could be used against him. It didn't matter; Nate already knew the name from his research.

White Bear threw some powder on another fire and it went out. "I say that was the Deer Clan, what do you say?" He asked, looking right at Nate this time.

Nate smiled at the leer on White Bear's face. "I have no idea, the fires were laid before I came here…all except one."

"Oh, the young one has skills in the making of sacred fire. Maybe this one was yours…or this…or this…" White Bear had extinguished five of the seven. Nate considered that the ghost knew which one belonged to the Bear Clan, but how could he know?

"Two remain, only one will serve…and if I guess right then you will tell me why you are here," White Bear said. His hand hovered in air, a small amount of the mysterious powder in his boney palm, and he tossed it on the little fire to his left. Only the Bear Clan fire remained.

"Ahh, I am right, your face says I chose correctly." And then White Bear quickly tossed an amount of powder on the remaining fire and it sputtered. Nate held out his hand, his palm over the hot coals and the fire leapt back to life, the flames engulfing his fingers. But Nate looked up into White Bear's eyes and smiled before slowly removing his hand.

"I don't wish my clan's fire to go out," Nate said.

Now he had White Bear's attention and the ghost slowly lowered his body to the ground. They were eye to eye and Nate could see the ravages of time on the old warrior chief. The face was little more than a skull covered in paper thin skin, the clothing hid boney arms and legs, but the hands were skeletal.

"The Wise One has chosen his companion well, I have been amused. But you may leave now, boy," White Bear said.

"I may leave? You're sitting on my ground in front of my fire and you tell me to leave?" Nate said. "I'm sorry the years have brought you to such a state of weakness."

White Bear's face flashed with anger and he leaned forward over the fire. The threat was met by growling from the throats of Waya and Gihli, the warning quite clear. Nate held up his hand and the animals relaxed.

"You dare to call me weak?" White Bear said.

"You are…an old warrior, an old chief. You should be resting amongst the people of your clan in Ani Tsaguhi, why do you still wander the spirit world?" Nate asked.

"I am leader of the Bear Clan, it's my legacy to watch over The People and see that they do not stray from the path. The Wise One knows and yet they do not listen to him."

"This path you speak of is in my world," Nate said. "Here it not only goes over the mountains it goes through them, something you could never understand. The ways of The People have changed. Last night they celebrated the Atohuna even though they have forgotten what it means.

"I know you…Hayuya'haniwä…you are my mother's ancestor, you're a part of my past," Nate said. And now he stood, undoing the belt of his coat and allowing it to fall open. White Bear could see the shirt and the necklace hanging around Nate's neck.

The shock struck not only White Bear but the three apparitions who had stood quietly in the background. They each took a step backwards but at the same time reached for the knives and hatchets in their belts. White Bear rose to one knee, his face covered in an evil leer.

"I have been looking for that necklace, it will be easy to remove from your scrawny little neck with this," He said, a knife appearing in his right hand.

Nate closed his eyes and felt the air around him crackle with tension. Maybe this would be a good time to call upon Granny Huhu for a little help…maybe, Nate thought. And then beside him Waya growled and Nate turned to find the wolf changing into his human form.

White Bear recoiled and at that very moment the ground beneath them shook. A sound built slowly around them and seemed to come from the very earth itself. The deep throated growl of many throats, there was no mistaking the sound.

Nate watched White Bear freeze in place, the knife slowly dropping from his fingers. The growling continued and Nate looked around in wonder at the huge bears which had appeared in the fog around them. He didn't have to count; he knew there would be seven.

White Bear collapsed back on his rear in the dirt, he had lost the advantage. For the boy to be able to call forth bears like this spoke of great magic, the necklace had brought him power. The ghost stared at Nate as if seeing him for the first time, there was new respect in his eyes.

Nate raised his head to the east where he knew the spirit of Granny Huhu remained with her family. His mind offered her a prayer of thanks and the growling stopped, the bears turned away and vanished in the mist.

"Ûlë-`nû' asëhï' tadeya'statakûnï' gûnnage astû'tsïkï' (*)," Marshall said. "You have allowed yourself the error of poor judgment, Hayuya'haniwä. As a warrior you may not covet the life of another without the acceptance of the spirits. But you have also threatened the life of a living chief, and one in your own clan…that is inexcusable." (*) Translation: 'And now surely we and the good black things, the best of all, shall see each other.' (Refers to the bears (black thing) who witness transgressions against the spirit world. Animals and man then 'see each other.'

White Bear stared at Nate and the anger slowly left his face. "Yes, you are a chief…a most worthy chief." He stood and held out his hands, palms up in a sign of peace.

Nate stood and grasped those boney hands. White Bear looked down as Nate's hands met his. "You are not afraid to touch me?" He asked.

"Here I am known as Little Bear, Usti Yonv. As a child I sat down with bears to share a meal and I speak to them in my dreams." Nate undid the clasp on his necklace and held it out in his hand. "I don't need this to accomplish what must be done in my life, but if you are to safely travel the river to a place of rest you will need it," He said.

White Bear looked down. "I cannot take this from you, it brings you great power."

"Then trade with me, this one for the one around your neck…and a promise," Nate said.

White Bear looked at the necklace he coveted so much. "What promise do you wish?

"Take my brother with you to Ani Tsaguhi," Nate said.

"This I can promise," White Bear said. He slid his hands up to the back of his neck and unfastened his necklace, and then he smiled. "You get the better part of this bargain, there are four bears who gave up life for this little bit of foolishness."

They traded necklaces and White Bear seemed to grow another foot taller. He stood proud as he fastened it in place, his vanity had returned.

"It's not the necklace; it's the meaning behind it," Nate said. "In this world it's only a symbol of the ancient past, in the spirit world it speaks of the life you once had. I cannot mourn the loss of your life when I see such a display of strength and power around your neck. Return to your world and have peace, Hayuya'haniwä."

White Bear nodded. "You have my name, what may I call you?"

"I'm Nathaniel Smiling Sky, Chief of the Qualla Bear Clan."

Nate smiled as White Bear turned to go. Little Wolf hugged Nate and Marshall, three of them together one last time. Nate looked for the sadness in this parting but found only joy, the young warrior had finally been given a way home.

White Bear turned to look at Nate and fingered the necklace with a smile before he approached the doorway. Nate nodded in return, and then quickly fastened the necklace White Bear had traded him around Little Wolf's neck. He looked confused and Nate hugged him again, whispering in his ear.

"I'm not sure I trust White Bear, in this world or yours…this will keep him honest. Go and find the peace you seek, my blessings go with you."

Little Wolf smiled as he turned and walked to the doorway. The three warriors stepped through followed by White Bear. Little Wolf raised a hand in farewell, and vanished through the opening.

"Waya," Marshall called, and a moment later the wolf leapt back out of the spirit world. Gihli sprang forward and they chased one another around before dashing off into the trees.

The doorway collapsed in seconds….gone, as if it had never been there. Marshall looked at the forest around them. "So, that went well. You were very clever with that necklace. White Bear has no choice but to lead Usti Waya now."

"I thought you were supposed to do all this…this stuff…you left me hanging," Nate laughed.

"I deferred to you for one very good reason. Your youth makes you invincible. In your mind everything is possible if you believe hard enough."

"It was like…like a dream," Nate said.

Marshall smiled, and then looked down at the ground beside the fire. He pointed at the knife. "That was no dream. You traded that necklace for a strong bit of steel; the power of White Bear is in that blade. But he learned something here, you are the stronger warrior."

Nate bent over and picked up the knife, feeling it's warmth in his hand. "This was his weapon, what will he do without it?"

"It's yours now; he won't need it where he's going. Hold on to it, I imagine it will prove to be quite valuable," Marshall said.

"Ted…" Nate said. They turned towards the path and Nate called out. "Ted…you can come down now."

A few seconds later they heard the boy running down the hill and his steps carried him right into Nate's arms. Marshall watched them kiss and then step back.

"Oh wow, I saw everything…the bears, those huge bears," Ted babbled.

"A gift from Granny Huhu, that turned the trick," Nate said. "So the cameras worked well?"

"Amazing…wait until you see it," Ted said.

"See it…I lived it," Nate laughed.

"What's that in your hand?" Ted asked.

"My souvenir of the spirit world…White Bear's knife."

"I didn't know you were going to take him on like that," Ted said. He turned to Marshall with a frown. "All you did was sit there, Nate could have been hurt."

Marshall shook his head slowly. "He was never in danger, White Bear couldn't touch him…and then there were the bears. Pretty dramatic don't you think?"

"I prayed to Granny for help…"

"And that gave you courage, you didn't need my help. The bears just played into White Bear's fears. He had killed so many in his life, I'm sure he thought they were here for revenge. The film will show you that look on his face…priceless."

"I'm just astonished…she sent the bears," Nate said.

"No, Nathaniel, they came at your request, they are yours to command. Granny Huhu was a dear old woman whose only power in life was to inspire you. She will always bring you strength. But before I forget…sit, we have some things to discuss."

Nate and Ted joined Marshall by the fire just as the sun peeked above the horizon and lit up the clearing. "Ahh, a glorious day arrives," Marshall said.

"I need breakfast," Nate said. "Battling ghosts makes me hungry."

"In a few minutes…but I need to speak of what we have done here. You told White Bear that he was sitting on your ground in front of your fire and he believed you," Marshall said. "In not so many years I will go to my final resting place and my spirit will return to the waters of life. I have no one to protect this place, this refuge where kind spirits dwell…I would leave it all to you and Ted."

Nate gasped at the words. "No, Marshall…this is too much…I can't be responsible for all this…"

Marshall smiled. "You already owned it with your words. It won't be tomorrow, you will have time to grow into the idea. But I want this land to remain in Cherokee hands, your hands. Just think about it, we have time to work out the details."

"Is that possible?" Ted asked. "I'm not even Cherokee."

"You didn't tell him?" Marshall asked, and Nate shook his head.

"I was saving it for his birthday."

"Oops…sorry," Marshall said.

Nate laughed and then looked at Ted who was more than a little confused. "What didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Before we entered the council hall the other day Joseph met with John, the chairman. I had asked him to have the documents signed for Usti Waya…and you. Denise Crowe agreed to sponsor you; Joseph thought she was a good choice since she has all the power in the family.

"So that afternoon, and without your knowledge, Theodore Lawson became Lawson-Crowe. You were accepted as a member of our family and my brother. Legally, you are now Cherokee."

Ted was stunned and tears formed in his eyes. "You mean…"

"We are as close as I can bring us in a spiritual way," Nate said. "The rest is up to you, my brother…my love."

Ted swept his arms around Nate and pulled him close. "My love...there is nothing I would rather hear you say."

"Pancakes?"

"OK, that works too," Ted said with a laugh.

The sun rose in the sky to light their day, and Marshall was right…it was a glorious day.