White Shadows Read Online Free PDF

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    Seeing Eyes smiled as she floated around the child. The child shimmered and glowed before slowly losing shape. Once more the scene spun until Seeing Eyes felt slightly sick and dizzy. To her horror, the tiny white dots turned blood-red. She held her hands up to ward away the vision. But she couldn’t. She was a part of it. In her head she heard screams.
    Blood.
    Death.
    It choked her. There was so much of it. Too much. And the child? Where was the child? Frantically Seeing Eyes reached out, not with her physical body but with her spiritual self. She had to find the child.
    Without warning, the sensation of death changed. The red remained, a dark glow, but now it glittered in the sun, the sparks of color nearly blinding her. The frightening roar in her ears became giggles. Soft, sweet laughter. The child had returned.
    She relaxed and reached out to the child. The child reached out a hand, then abruptly turned and ran. Laughter turned to screams.
    “Stop,” Seeing Eyes called out.
    With a suddenness typical of her visions, it was gone. So was the child, but not the echoing screams. Seeing Eyes opened her eyes and rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to warm herself. No matter how fast she rubbed, she felt chilled to the bone. Her heart hammered as her gaze slid over her people. Why had the visions returned? Who was in danger?
    Scanning the camp, she found nothing wrong or out of place. Just the opposite. Excitement over her daughter’s marriage to Hoka Luta lent a festive gaiety to the camp. Women were either cooking or working on gifts to present to the soon-to-be-joined couple. Young children ran every which way, many holding food from one of numerous cook pots.
    Seeing Eyes stood. A pouch of dried cherries fell unheeded to the ground. Her family. She had to be sure they were safe. She spotted her son, Golden Eagle, kneeling beside his tipi. In his hands he held a knife. Squatting in front of him, his two young sons, Striking Thunder and White Wolf, chattered as they watched their father fashion a small bow.
    In front of the tipi, White Wind nursed White Dove, their youngest child. Star Dreamer, White Wolf’s twin sister, stepped out of the tipi. Instead of running to play with other girls her age, the youngster stared at her grandmother.
    Seeing Eyes felt her heart tug. At the age of seven, her granddaughter already showed signs of having inherited from her a gift that often seemed more of a curse. Two hands on her shoulders startled her. Seeing Eyes spun around and stared up into the beloved features of her husband.
    “What is wrong?”
    “It is nothing,” she began.
    “You are not truthful, wife.”
    “This is a day of celebration, not—”
    Hawk Eyes cradled her face in his hands and forced her to meet his gaze. “The visions have returned.”
    Everything in her cried out for her to deny his words, but he knew her well. “Yes, husband.”
    As she’d done, he scanned his tribe. Coming up the rolling hill from the stream, a trio of unmarried women the same age as their daughter laughed and giggled as they eyed the visiting warriors.
    Realization hit them both in the same moment.
    “Our daughters,” she whispered. Winona should have been back from bathing a long time ago. It had been barely light when she and Spotted Deer had left the tipi. The sun had now risen fully.
    She turned to stare out at the hills a short distance away. The flowing stream near their camp led to the base of those hills. The rolling prairie broke away to climb steeply, far above the prairie floor. Her gaze found and rested on the tip of massive gray flat-topped rock. It was a favored spot for warriors to seek vision quests, for praying and for giving thanks. It was also Winona’s favorite place to go when she needed or wanted to be alone.
    “She would not leave camp without asking permission,” Hawk Eyes said. But the frown between his eyes belied his words. They both knew Winona had on many occasions done just that.
    Icy fear