The Magic Hour

Chapter 29: The Beginning of the End, or Is It?

 JINSAIH FELT HERSELF within the circle again, the spinning ended, the chanting and drumming of one accord surrounding her. Once more she raised her arms to the east and the others joined her and in that second the sun rose, a brilliant gold-red covering them and the stones in first light. They watched in silence and awe, as they felt every time, until the full sun was above the horizon.

    Then everyone dispersed, moving back along the avenue in small groups, talking and planning the rest of the day.

     She went toward Rimal’s cave, where she knew a good meal would be waiting. As she walked up the path, past the hill where she had stood only hours before, Jinsaih saw Rimal’s sister Malife heading toward the woodland. She was fearless as she carried her bag to gather herbs, with not much more than a small spear for protection, despite the dangerous creatures that lived in the forests. It made Jinsaih smile. She watched as Malife stayed close to the edge of the trees, but still entered them if she saw something she coveted for her medicine table.

    Rimal had the food ready, and five men were there with her, most of them known to the shaman. Jinsaih greeted them.

    “Malife is late again,” Rimal said.

    “I saw her on my way here. She’s very intent on her work.”

    “She is. Sometimes I think she is too involved with it. She forgets everything else. If it weren’t for her son, Daniel, I don’t think she would remember to eat or sleep,” Rimal said.

    “You would tell her,” Jinsaih said, and then she gestured out into the land, “or someone else. She wouldn’t be left alone.”

    “Yes, it’s true.” Rimal continued setting out the meal. “Daniel and Iela are the best of friends,” she added.

    “Ah,” the shaman said, “that could be a good thing.”

    The men were strangely silent. Jinsaih wondered why they were there without their families. She knew Rimal wondered as well, for she had prepared enough food to receive many more.

    Then one of them, Rimal’s brother Hamige stood up and apologized for his bluntness. “We have to know. You’re the shaman. Why are you here?”

    “To lead us in the unification,” Rimal said. “What else have you just seen her do?”

    “I don’t mean that. I mean, why are you here now with us? You haven’t been here in a long time. Are you staying here? Or do you intend to continue in this work, this search of yours?”

    “What do you know about that?” Jinsaih asked, surprised.

    Rimal stared at Hamige. “What are you saying?”

    “Do you only go forward, Jinsaih?” another man said, someone she had never met before.

    “And you are?” she said in a soft voice.

    “He’s Torige, Hernot’s nephew,” Rimal said, her eyes studying both men. “He has just come to our valley.”

    “Well, I can answer your first question. I return to the old ones, especially when I am unsure of what to do. They know more than I do, somehow.”

    “That doesn’t make sense,” Torige muttered.

    “Ah, but it does. You see, they are not confused about anything—their world is not changing the way ours is—they know what it means to be One together. That’s what we are losing, and I don’t understand why. So I go and ask them. They are the ones who told me to go forward.”