Chapter 6: The Elder's Warning

The sneaker felt impossibly heavy in Kai's hands as he sat in Agent Rodriguez's makeshift command center, trying to explain how he'd found it without mentioning the thing that had worn Shadi's face. The FBI agent studied him with those sharp brown eyes, clearly sensing there was more to the story than he was telling.

"You found this just inside the cave entrance?" she asked for the third time.

"Partially buried under some loose rocks. I almost missed it." The lie came easier now, wrapped in enough truth to make it believable. "Emma must have lost it when she first entered the cave system."

Taza sat beside him, silent but tense. Kai could feel his cousin's disapproval radiating like heat from a fire. They'd grown up together, shared the same stories, the same warnings about the mountain's dangers. Taza knew exactly what finding that sneaker meant, and he knew Kai was lying about how he'd discovered it.

"This doesn't make sense," Agent Rodriguez said, turning the small pink shoe over in her gloved hands. "We searched that area thoroughly yesterday. Multiple teams, trained professionals with proper equipment. If this was there, we would have found it."

"Maybe it got uncovered by the wind," Kai suggested. "Or animals might have disturbed—"

"No." Rodriguez's voice was flat with certainty. "This shoe is clean. No dirt, no weathering, no sign of exposure to elements. It's like it was placed there recently."

The wooden doll in Kai's pocket seemed to pulse with warmth, and he fought the urge to touch it. Around them, the command center hummed with activity—radios crackling with search team updates, computers displaying topographical maps, federal agents coordinating with tribal police. All of it focused on finding a logical explanation for the impossible.

"I want to show this to someone," Kai said suddenly. "There's an Elder on the reservation who might be able to provide some... cultural context."

Agent Rodriguez looked skeptical. "Mr. Martinez, I appreciate your desire to involve local resources, but we need to focus on evidence-based investigation. Folklore and superstition aren't going to help us find Emma."

"With respect, Agent Rodriguez," Taza spoke for the first time since they'd arrived, "you've been here for three days and haven't found so much as a footprint. Maybe it's time to consider that your evidence-based approach isn't working."

The tension in the room ratcheted up several degrees. Rodriguez's jaw tightened, and Kai could see her struggling between professional courtesy and bureaucratic frustration. She was a competent investigator doing her job, but her job assumed a rational world where children couldn't simply vanish into mountains and wooden dolls didn't appear from thin air.

"One hour," she said finally. "You have one hour to talk to your Elder. But I want a full report on anything—and I mean anything—that might be relevant to this case."

The drive to Mary Begay's house took them through the heart of the reservation, past the school where Emma had been attending summer camp and the community center where her grandmother had reported her missing. Kai found himself studying the landscape with new eyes, noting the way shadows fell differently near the mountain, how even the animals seemed to avoid grazing in certain areas.

"You're not telling Rodriguez everything," Taza said as they pulled into the Elder's driveway.

"I'm telling her what she can handle."

"And what about what you can handle?" Taza's voice carried a note of genuine concern. "You look like you haven't slept in days. Your hands are shaking. Whatever you saw in that cave this morning, it's eating you alive."

Kai almost laughed at the accuracy of that assessment. The thing wearing Shadi's face had indeed been eating him alive, feeding on his guilt and grief and desperate need to believe his cousin was somehow still alive. But he couldn't explain that to Taza without sounding completely insane.

"I saw things," he said finally. "Things that don't make sense according to the rules I've been living by for fifteen years."

"Maybe it's time to start living by different rules."

Mary Begay's house was small and traditional, built by her husband's hands decades ago and maintained with the patient care of someone who understood that some things were meant to last. She met them at the door before they could knock, as if she'd been expecting them.

At ninety-one, Mary was one of the last speakers of the old language, one of the few who remembered the stories in their original form. Her face was a map of deep lines and patient wisdom, her silver hair braided with ribbons that caught the afternoon light. But it was her eyes that made Kai's breath catch—dark and knowing, holding depths that seemed to encompass centuries.

"Grandson," she said, though they weren't related by blood. "You've brought me something that troubles you."

It wasn't a question. Kai reached into his jacket and withdrew the wooden doll, placing it carefully in her weathered hands. Mary's reaction was immediate and visceral—she recoiled as if the carved figure had burned her, her eyes wide with something that might have been fear or recognition.

"Where did you find this?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"In my backpack, fifteen years ago. The day after Shadi disappeared." Kai glanced at Taza, who was staring at the doll with growing alarm. "And yesterday, they found another one near Emma's trail."

Mary carried the figure to her kitchen table, handling it with the careful reverence usually reserved for dangerous objects. In the stronger light, Kai could see details he'd missed before—tiny scratches along the figure's torso that might have been ritualistic scarring, and around its neck, symbols that looked disturbingly similar to the ones carved beside the cave entrance.

"This is Nimerigar work," Mary said, her voice heavy with ancient authority. "The Little People. They leave these as markers, as messages to those who understand the old ways."

"Messages saying what?" Taza asked.

"That they have taken something precious. That they are willing to trade." Mary's fingers traced the air above the doll without actually touching it. "But the price is always higher than what they offer in return."

Kai felt his chest tighten. "What kind of trade?"

"The stories say different things. Sometimes they want offerings—food, tobacco, items of personal significance. Sometimes they want services—someone to carry messages, to perform tasks in the world above." Mary's expression grew grave. "But when they take children, they usually want only one thing in return."

"What?"

"A replacement. Someone to take the child's place in the deep places beneath the mountain. Someone who will serve as their voice in the world above, their hands in the realm of the living."

The wooden doll seemed to pulse with malevolent warmth, and Kai found himself remembering the thing that had worn Shadi's face. Your Queen of Bones, ruler of the deep places. Had his cousin become something like that? A bridge between the human world and whatever darkness lived in the mountain's depths?

"But this doll is different," Mary continued, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "The markings, the symbols around its neck—these indicate something more specific. More personal."

"What do you mean?"

"This is not just a marker or a message. This is a lure." Mary's eyes met his across the table. "The Nimerigar have marked you, grandson. They have chosen you for something specific, something that requires your willing participation."

"That's impossible. I left the reservation fifteen years ago. I built a new life, far from all this."

"Distance means nothing to the Little People. Time means nothing. They are patient as stone, persistent as water. If they have marked you, they will call you back when they are ready." Mary gestured to the doll. "And they are ready now."

Taza leaned forward, his face pale. "What do they want with him?"

"The stories speak of a king and queen who rule the deep places. Ancient powers that require living vessels to maintain their connection to the world above." Mary's voice grew heavy with reluctant knowledge. "If the Little People have taken two children from the same family, fifteen years apart, and left these markers both times..."

She didn't need to finish. Kai could see the terrible logic unfolding like a flower made of nightmares. Shadi hadn't simply been taken—she'd been transformed, changed into something that could serve as a bridge between worlds. And now that bridge was calling for its counterpart.

"They want me to go back," he said quietly. "To the cave."

"They want you to take your place," Mary corrected. "To accept the role they prepared for you when you spoke the words of power fifteen years ago."

Here lies the Queen of Bones. The phrase echoed in Kai's memory, carrying weight he was only beginning to understand. He'd thought it was just something from his grandmother's stories, meaningless words spoken in the heat of childhood competition. But words had power, especially when spoken in places where the barriers between worlds grew thin.

"What happens if I refuse?"

Mary's expression grew infinitely sad. "Then the children they have taken will remain in the deep places forever. They will become like the Little People themselves—neither fully alive nor fully dead, serving as guardians and gatherers for the powers that dwell beneath the mountain."

"And if I accept?"

"Then you might have a chance to bring them home. But the price..." She shook her head. "The price is always higher than what they offer in return."

Kai stared at the wooden doll, feeling the weight of fifteen years of guilt and grief pressing down on him like stone. In his mind, he could hear Emma's voice crying for help in the darkness, could see the thing that had worn Shadi's face promising a reunion that would last forever.

"How do I prepare?" he asked.

"Kai, no." Taza's voice was sharp with alarm. "You can't seriously be considering this."

"Emma is alive down there. I heard her voice, saw her shoe. If there's any chance of bringing her home—"

"At what cost? Your life? Your soul? You think Shadi would want you to throw yourself into that darkness for her sake?"

But Kai was already turning back to Mary, desperate for answers that made sense of the impossible. "You said they want willing participation. What does that mean exactly?"

Mary studied him with those ancient eyes, and he could see her weighing his determination against the dangers he faced. "The Little People cannot simply take what they want from the living world. They need someone who chooses to serve them, who accepts their gifts and obligations freely." She paused. "But once you enter their realm willingly, once you accept their mark, you become subject to their laws. And their laws are not kind to those who change their minds."

"Then I'll have to make sure I don't change my mind."

"Grandson." Mary's voice was infinitely gentle. "Some doors, once opened, can never be closed. Some prices, once paid, can never be refunded. Are you certain this is the path you want to walk?"

Kai thought of Emma's sneaker, still warm from her foot. He thought of the thing that had worn Shadi's face, promising a reunion fifteen years in the making. Most of all, he thought of the words he'd spoken as a twelve-year-old boy, creating obligations that transcended death itself.

"I'm certain I have to try."

Mary nodded slowly, as if she'd expected no other answer. "Then we must prepare you properly. The Little People respect strength, but they fear the old protections. If you are going to enter their realm and hope to return, you will need every advantage our ancestors can provide."

She disappeared into the back room, returning with a canvas bag that clinked softly with each step. Inside were objects that seemed to pulse with their own inner light—silver amulets carved with protective symbols, bundles of sage and sweetgrass, small cloth pouches that smelled of cedar and something else, something wild and ancient.

"These were made by my grandmother, and her grandmother before her," Mary said, placing each item carefully on the table. "They are keys to the old ways, bridges between the world of the living and the world of spirits. But they are also warnings—reminders that some powers are too dangerous to approach without proper preparation."

As she spoke, the wooden doll on the table began to grow warm, its crude features seeming to shift in the changing light. Kai found himself staring at it with a mixture of fascination and dread, knowing that it represented both his greatest fear and his only hope.

The Little People were waiting. They had been waiting for fifteen years, patient as stone, persistent as water. And now it was time for the King of Bones to claim his throne.

Even if it meant discovering that some crowns were made of nothing but shadows and regret.