White Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page A

sharpening a twig with his knife, a second warrior looked bored.
    Tears burned behind Winona’s eyes. “This is my fault,” she whispered hoarsely in Lakota. Glancing around wildly, Winona knew she had to do something to save them. She lunged forward and kicked her captor behind his right knee, then moved swiftly when he stumbled forward. With a hard yank she pulled free and ran for her horse.
    Curses and amused laughter followed her flight for freedom. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know her pursuer was close. She felt him—felt his heat and his fury. She heard the low rumble of his voice. There was nothing soft or soothing about that voice. Or the words spoken. When he caught her, she knew she’d pay.
    The scrape of his fingers on her shoulder made her cry out. She leaned to the right, eluding capture, and eyed her horse with desperation. She had no hope of outrunning the warrior. He’d overpower her in seconds. Frustrated that she wouldn’t have time to mount the animal and ride for help, she figured she’d do what she could.
    When she came within a foot of her mare, she threw her arms high and snapped the loose rope binding her hands toward the now-startled horse. The mare danced away, then stopped, unsure of her mistress’s behavior.
    “Go!” Winona screamed, waving her arms.
    When a hard hand clamped down on her shoulder, she screamed and twisted, moving closer to the wild-eyed animal. For the second time that morning she felt an arm snake around her waist. Winona refused to go quietly. She continued to scream at the top of her lungs and wave her hands. Each time the end of the rope brushed the mare, the animal backed away with a fearful snort.
    With one last desperate attempt to send her horse fleeing, Winona kicked out with her feet. One foot struck the mare’s hindquarters. The horse, already skittish from Winona’s screams and struggles, reared up, front hooves pawing the air.
    “Tigli! Tigli!” she commanded the horse. Another kick sent leaves and bits of loose dirt flying toward the animal’s face.
    Behind her, the Cheyenne warrior tried to grab her hands. Out of the corner of her eye Winona saw the second warrior racing toward the horse.
    “No!” Desperate, she leaned her head down and bit the warrior on his upper arm. He yelped. The slack in his grip was all she needed to twist free. Lunging at the horse, knowing she couldn’t mount fast enough, she slapped the animal.
    “Go! Go!”
    The mare whirled around and shot forward, racing through the trees, hooves thundering long after the animal faded from sight.
    A loud curse in her ear made Winona smile. This time when the Cheyenne warrior snagged her she didn’t struggle. She’d done what she could. Turning, she faced her enemy with her chin jutting forward, her eyes twin slits of fury.
    “I am Winona, daughter of Chief Hawk Eyes, sister of Golden Eagle. Prepare to die.”
     
    Seeing Eyes felt the first icy finger of dread slide down her spine. Darkness crept like a rolling bank of fog across her vision. Not again, she thought. Not again. It had been years since she’d experienced the frightening and paralyzing effect of a vision.
    She fought the sensations, opened her eyes wide and tried to focus on the activities going on around her, but reality faded. The darkness enveloped her; her heart raced and her chest tightened as though a giant invisible fist were squeezing the air from her lungs.
    So cold.
    Something was wrong.
    Terribly wrong.
    The sun. Where had it gone? She needed warmth; her head screamed for the darkness to lift. She no longer existed. Or felt. Or was. Her spirit floated through the darkness, became one with the darkness.
    Down below she saw a child standing high on a cliff with arms outstretched. Sky-blue hair flowed around her body and tiny dots of light danced and became her shadow. As the girl-child danced, the light mingled with the darkness and swirled until everything appeared blue, black and