The afternoon was hot; the kind of hot when even simple tasks of drawing a deep breath were uncomfortable. Sondra's parched lips felt swollen as she visualized a very tall glass of iced tea and a slice of shade under anything that would hide her from the blazing New Mexico sun. She absently licked her lips, receiving little moisture from an equally parched tongue. The iced tea image slowly became an obsession – one of several she’d have this hot summer day.

There were 180 miles, maybe more she estimated before she’d reach Albuquerque. Squinting upward into open air, the sun looked like it was edging into the afternoon part of the sky. Despite driving at nearly 80 miles per hour, the top down along with all the windows, it was still hot as Hell. She considered stopping and putting the top back up, but the black material would only serve as a death shroud, converting the interior of the jet-black, ‘68 Chrysler Imperial into a rolling convection oven. The pitiful excuse for an air conditioner labored to recycle moderately warm air into the even hotter interior, so Sondra decided to let it run.

Well over an hour had passed since she left Amarillo, as she approached road signs announcing proximity to Tucumcari, NM. Hopefully, she thought, there’d be a frosty glass of iced tea somewhere in this sweltering little desert town. Sondra recalled taking this trip as a child with her parents, remembering it being every bit as hot, yet in those days even more brutal since there were no air conditioners, no interstate highways, only the infamous two-lane trail of Route 66 leading to the west coast. She recalled the New Mexico desert seemed closer to the road on that trip, along with the armadillos, scorpions, rattlesnakes, and whatever other ghastly creatures the forbidden terrain could offer. Despite all that, Sondra found a sensual beauty hidden within the sandblasted, khaki landscape.

Within an hour’s drive the landscape started to change with increased density in vegetation as the altitude increased. Now there were scrub trees and bushes covering the rock-strewn sand, and the intense heat eased slightly. Sondra felt she had a history of sorts in the southwest. There had always been an attraction to this place she could not understand, an attraction that stirred something within her, making her heart race with whatever mystery it held. That strange attraction caused her decision to drive for two and a half days when four hours by air from Georgia would have been the easier option. Something forced the decision, something inside of her, something not a part of her, but then – it was a part – a part she did not understand, yet obeyed its calling.

Even her ex-college roommate, Patricia Peters, told her she was crazy after turning down half the airfare to instead drive from her home in Athens, GA to Albuquerque, NM for a visit. Sondra refused, saying she wanted to experience the country from ground level rather than from 36,000 feet. In retrospect, she wondered if recalling the sweltering heat from her childhood trip if she would have opted for the 36,000-foot, air-conditioned view of the countryside. Something inside her quickly and firmly confirmed her election to drive as the only choice. In heat hovering around 100 degrees, she shivered.

The green interstate sign she approached promised food at Exit 332 along with gas, phone, and lodging. Checking the gas gauge, she noted the car also needed a drink. At the bottom of the exit ramp, she turned right toward the closest service station. Another childhood memory popped into her head, as she pulled off the road under a sign with a green dinosaur on it. How long had it been since she’d last seen a Sinclair service station? It felt like she had driven into a crack in time and slipped into the early sixties. Surveying the service station, she guessed that by the early sixties this place already had a few years in its history.

When she pulled up to the pumps, a young Indian boy sauntered out of his seat in the shade to provide another distant memory, full-service.

"Fill 'er up, Miss?"

"Yes, please," she replied, "and please check the engine, it seems to be running hot."

He laughed quickly and shot back a reply, "Miss, everything runs hot ‘round here, but I'll look ‘er over for you."

Sondra thought she might have made a mistake requesting that he attempt to evaluate the condition of her engine; the boy could not be more than 14 years old.

"Thank you," she hesitated, considering her choice of words before sharing her lack of confidence in his abilities.  "Just don't do anything to my car okay?"

"Yes, Miss. I'll just check t’see if ‘er oil and coolant levels are okay.”

'Well,' she thought to herself, 'at least he knows there’s supposed to be coolant.'

After satisfying herself he had no plans to disassemble her car she asked, "Is there anyplace around here where I can get a glass of iced tea?"

"Yes Ma’am. You go on inside the diner and get you some. We’ve good iced tea here."

"Thank you," she replied and turned toward the main building, leaving her trust with the boy to ‘check ‘er  over good’.

***

A small, sun-bleached sign hung from the old building on rusted chains, swinging in the hot breeze that read, "Tumbleweed Diner". In the lower pane of the window adjacent to the door a faded sign promised, "Cold Drinks" and welcome relief from the heat. Without waiting another moment she strode toward the screen door in hopes of finding the object of her thirsty quest.

Sondra attempted to peer inside as she walked past the window. The panes were dirty, the corners of each filled with sand and dust from many years of exposure to the hot, dry climate. The screen door opened easily, and the long spring groaned the same song every tired old screen door had been pre-programmed to sing. Stepping into the darkened interior of the diner, her eyes strained to adjust in dim light. A swirl of air blew her hair across her face when she took a step forward. It startled her for a moment until she realized the source of the breeze; a big electric fan mounted on an upright floor-stand in the corner. In the opposite corner, located at the distant end of a long service counter, stood another fan also laboring to add welcome movement to the otherwise stagnant warm air. There were eight empty, swivel stools lined up along the counter offering the only seating.

"Hello," a raspy voice crackled from an old woman who stepped from the shadows. Sondra guessed she’d likely be the young lad’s grandmother. She stood behind the long counter, shoulders hunched forward and bent under the weight of many years. "Can I get you a cold drink?"

Smiling back at her Sondra replied, "Yes. Do you have any iced tea?"

"Yes, dear we do."

"Is it sweet tea?"

The old woman laughed, "Only if you put sugar in it."

Sondra smiled again remembering that the closest Georgia-sweet tea was a long way from the Texas-New Mexico border, "That's fine. It's so hot outside I believe I can drink it anyway you have it."

Settling onto one of the stools, a large glass filled with ice and a rich, dark amber tea appeared in front of her with a thick slice of lemon perched on the rim. Sondra did not bother to sweeten the beverage or squeeze the lemon. She picked up the cool glass and drank deeply. The ice-cold liquid spread around the parched insides of her mouth, over a thankful tongue, and then streamed its cool relief all the way down her throat. The tea tasted somewhat bitter compared to the sweet tea she favored, but in this heat it proved to be nothing short of perfection.

"Here," the old woman handed her a cool, damp cloth. "This will help cool down the outside while you drink your tea." Her dark eyes twinkled from their deep seats within a tanned face streaked with lines of character and time-tested wisdom.

"Oh my, thank you, said Sondra gratefully, "that’s sweet of you."

Holding the cool cloth to her face with both hands, she exhaled deeply, her skin soaking in the cool moisture from the cloth. Slowly dragging the cloth down over her face with both eyes closed tightly, she could feel moisture on her face drying almost immediately, as her skin once again embraced the warmth of the afternoon air. A cool sensation of a breeze swept past her as though someone had just walked by. Suddenly, a strange feeling filled her head; a sensation bordering on light-headedness. A very musky scent filled her nose, nearly choking her as she thought she heard strange words spoken softly, "Nokee yi watihn duwa Puye."

Sondra whirled around to see who spoke to her. The room appeared empty except for her and the old woman. She searched the gloom, convinced someone lurked in the shadows, but could see no one else. Turning back to look at the old woman, she saw a very warm, knowing smile cross the leathery face. A sparkle of recognition twinkled in the old woman's eye then vanished.

"Excuse me. Did you just say something to me?"

"No, my dear," the old woman replied. "It was the old one speaking to you. He said you would come to us today."

"What?" Sondra looked stunned. "The old one? Who? Did you hear that? Something about Nokee something-something Puye."

The old woman nodded as though waiting for her cue to deliver her message. "Two Bears, the old one, a powerful Spirit-Caller, foretold the coming of the spirit princess Nahe of the Pueblo. He foretold that she would return to the land of her people this day. He said that it would be my honor to serve you drink and refresh you for your journey."

"Journey? Me?" questioned Sondra incredulously, "No, my journey is to visit my friend in Albuquerque. Not some...some ancient...

The old woman interrupted her, "You dear, are Nokee, the person of this world honored to travel with the spirit of Nahe. Two Bears has spoken many times of the restless spirit who travels with you now.

"Nahe who? How do you know she...she travels with me?" Sondra asked, her voice wavering as she became increasingly uneasy.

The old woman ignored Sondra's second question and slowly started to speak the answer to her first. "Nahe was a beautiful Pueblo princess from many, many years ago. Ancient stories tell of her unfulfilled love for White Eagle, her husband-to-be, and the roaming of her restless spirit. As the story is told, an ambush surprised White Eagle and his hunting party early one morning. A great battle was fought with the blue-legs, soldiers from the north, and they took the life of White Eagle the morning of his greatest day, the day he planned to marry the beautiful princess Nahe.

"The legend is told that Nahe, after learning of White Eagle's death, climbed to the highest place in the Puye cliff dwellings. There she called to the spirit of her beloved White Eagle and jumped to her death to be with him. The Great Spirits were very angry over this. They forbid us from taking our own lives and so they remanded the spirit of Nahe to wander the Netherworld until she was permitted to find her way back to the Pueblo homeland and her beloved White Eagle.

"The legend also tells of White Eagle's spirit refusing to travel to the Great Beyond without his beloved Nahe. The Great Spirits were angered by this and condemned his spirit also to roam the Netherworld on the wing of the great eagle until he was permitted to find his way back to the homeland. Never would they be allowed to meet in the Netherworld. Only after the Great Spirits decided they had been punished enough would they be permitted to reunite once again.

"The Spirit-Caller, Two Bears, has spoken of seeing both spirit fires in the eye of his mind. He speaks of both fires coming, burning closer to the homeland, soon to burn as one. He foretold that you were coming here today, and his feeling is strong with White Eagle too. Nahe and White Eagle are wandering spirits burning as two flames coming together before the moon passes to darkness."

The old woman fell silent and cocked her head slightly. Her dark eyes studied Sondra as she sat there spellbound by what she’d just heard. On the surface, the romance of the story enthralled her, and her adventurous side nearly considered the concept of having the spirit of Nahe residing with her. Before that could sink in the more logical part of her decided the old woman had been smoking peyote, and now would be a really good time to make her exit.

Just as Sondra gave in to the logical side of her beliefs, a surging rush of arousal swelled in her center, streaking up her spine and taking her breath. She pitched backward, landing on her back on the tile floor. Tremors shook her body as she writhed, convulsing with wave after wave of intense gut-wrenching lust. An incredible aching desire for deep driving penetration overwhelmed her, drawing both hands into her crotch to quell the hollow feeling of emptiness. A shrill scream echoed in her head just as blackness closed from the edges of her field of vision.

The sound of trickling water was somewhere close by. Cool water bathed her face and neck; then she heard the trickling again. Sondra startled when the old woman pressed a cool rag to her temple. Her eyes opened to see a kind weathered face smiling down at her and wringing out a cloth to swab her forehead again. Her body ached, though not physical pain. She ached with an emotional emptiness; filled with an unexplained longing, a strange agony she’d never felt before in her life, and it brought tears to her eyes. Sondra fought the rush of emotion and sobbed uncontrollably, reaching to hold the woman’s hand and cool cloth to her face.

As her sobs began to subside, she heard the old woman speak softly. “The power of Nahe is strong with you.”

Sondra struggled to sit upright, and the old woman wrapped an arm behind her shoulders to help. “What if I don’t want to be with this...Nahe?” she protested.

That same shrieking scream exploded in her brain again, and the intense arousal returned, tearing at her with raging sensations of sexual anticipation. She went rigid again, this time lustful tremors pushed her over the edge, plunging her into the grips of shuddering orgasm just as the scream filled her head again. Blackness closed in on her before the echoes of the second cry died, wrapping her in the quiet comfort of darkness.

When she regained consciousness, Sondra found herself propped up and rocking gently back and forth, cradled in the old woman’s arms. She could not discern what her benefactor was saying but her repetitive sounds were comforting. The monotone rhythm of her chanting acted like a sedative on Sondra, pushing the panic of what just happened to her into the background. She recalled experiencing a powerful orgasm, but the question of why she had it seemed less and less of a concern. The ache of unknown longing remained with her, and confusion lingered as well. A strange sense of purpose replaced her angst. She felt the longing deeper than before, and a compulsion to see it resolved was more a part of her than she wanted to admit.

The old woman stopped her mumbling and looked down at Sondra. A smile of recognition crossed her lips, and she nodded as though in agreement with a conversation Sondra did not hear. As she got to her feet the woman took her firmly by the upper arms and looked directly into her eyes. “You are strong Nokee now.”

Sondra had no clue what that meant, but she did feel significantly better. “Yes, I feel much better. Thank you!”

Just then, the young Indian boy stepped through the doorway. "Ma'am your hoses are lookin' good and the oil is fine. It's just runnin' hotter than normal 'cause it's so hot outside. I’d just kinda keep 'er down a bit and not push 'er too hard. I think she'll run forever."

The boy's evaluation of her car was just the "out" she needed and turned quickly to leave. "How much do I owe you?"

"$65.15 on 23 gallons of high-test," he replied.

Handing him $75 she turned to the old woman and said, "Thank you for the iced tea and the delightful story. How much do I owe you for your hospitality?"

"My dear," the old woman spoke softly, "it is my pleasure to serve you refreshing drink. You owe nothing. Permit the spirit of Nahe to guide your journey to the homeland. Go as Nokee; go to where White Eagle waits for his Nahe. Return to the cliff dwellings, as the legend speaks of it."

Sondra grimaced and did not know what to say.  Something happened to her a few minutes earlier, but she still doubted her afternoon would be spent searching for spirits or large birds of prey or anything else for that matter. It was definitely time to get back on I-40 and point the big Chrysler toward Albuquerque. She smiled and said, "I have to go now. Thank you again for everything."

***

Sliding in behind the wheel, she barely felt the sting of the hot leather seats burning the backs of her thighs through the light cotton sundress she wore. Sondra had been spooked. Her only thoughts were to get out of there before things became weirder than they already were. The big Chrysler's engine sprang to life as she turned the key. Pulling out onto the deserted two-lane road she headed for the I-40 on-ramp, her mind still seeing the sincerity glimmering in the old woman's eyes. Turning onto the ramp, she shook her head to erase the image and the lingering thoughts of spirits other than her own traveling with her.

It was nearly 3:30PM when her thirst returned. The sun slid lower in the sky, racing ahead of her toward the western horizon. Squinting up into the cloudless afternoon, Sondra decided there was plenty of daylight left and about 80 miles or so between her and Albuquerque. As if on queue, a cluster of road signs came into view. Exit 218 provided access to a crossroads called Clines Corner, home to a lone Hardee's restaurant, and two service stations. Visions of a great big cup of Hardee's iced tea prompted an abrupt detour off the interstate. Just as she neared the bottom of the ramp, the tea from the Tumbleweed Diner confirmed the need to stop for another reason; time to find a bathroom.

Pulling up to the curb on the eastern side of the restaurant, Sondra took advantage of afternoon shade left there by the afternoon angle of the sun. She turned off the engine and pulled the door handle in one smooth motion. The need to find the ladies room rapidly approached urgent.

Evidence of a very busy air-conditioner greeted her with a refreshing blast of cool air when she pulled the door open to enter the restaurant. Spotting the sign for the restrooms in the rear corner, she walked quickly past gaudy orange and yellow covered booths and tables. Relief was only a few steps away.

Carrying a very large cup of tea with an extra long straw poking from the lid, Sondra hesitated inside, reluctant to step out of the air-conditioned comfort of Hardee's and back into the New Mexico oven. Turning the corner, she came to an abrupt halt. Standing next to her car was a very old Indian man. He did not appear threatening, but she stopped in her tracks, taken aback by his peculiar appearance. His face reminded her of the old woman she met back in Tucumcari a couple of hours earlier. He had the same leathery facial features and prominent furrowed lines surrounding deep-set eyes that twinkled with stories untold.

"Hello?" Sondra spoke haltingly, as she slowly took a tentative step forward. Upon stepping off the curb she realized he was very tall; standing well over six feet. He did not speak. She stood still and looked at him, studying his face. Neither of them spoke. Finally, she broke their gaze and took a long draught of tea through her straw.

Slowly a soft smile crossed his lips as he broke the silence. "You are Nokee."

Sondra choked on her tea, coughing and sputtering, as his words caused her throat to seize on what breath she had left.

"Who are you?" She finally managed to speak. "What do you want?"

In a voice she immediately recognized from hearing back in Tucumcari, he spoke, "Nokee yi watihn duwa Puye. You are Nokee coming home to the Puye."

Sondra stood frozen in her tracks, staring at the old Indian. Logic suggested she stood before another chronic peyote user, but something else caused her to weigh the prospects that this old man may actually be a part of her immediate future.

"Don't tell me..." she finally said with a nervous laugh, "...you must be Two Bears."

The old Indian smiled and bowed his head slightly. "Yes, I am Two Bears."

"So...I suppose you already know who I am, right?

"No," the old Indian replied slowly, "I know nothing of you. I know only of the spirit who travels with you. I know only that you have been honored to be Nokee, the traveling companion from this world who walks with the spirit of Nahe, princess of the Puye. I have known you were coming and to be here to meet you at this place."

"Oh," Sondra replied, playing along. She rapidly began to tire of this mysterious connection with some ancient Indian spirit, princess royalty or not. Evidence of her impatience reflected in sharp sarcasm, "And I suppose you have some words of inspiration, or some ancient, desert wisdom you’re supposed to share too, right?"

The old Indian shook his head. "No, I am to be your guide. I am to help you in your journey to meet..."

Sondra cut the old man off in mid-sentence, "Oh no, I don’t need a guide. I know exactly where I’m going, and I know exactly with whom I’m supposed to meet. In fact, you can take your Nokee job and shove…"

Her rude reply was stifled abruptly, as a flood of sensation exploded in the pit of her stomach. Sondra sucked in her breath sharply, and stumbled forward as her knees weakened, reaching out for the fender of her car for support. She took another step to maintain her balance before she started to collapse. Two Bears gathered her into his arms as she fell toward the asphalt next to her car. Sharp waves of near orgasmic contractions erupted in her center repeating what happened to her back at the Tumbleweed Diner. She convulsed and gasped for breath, swimming in sexual sensation, struggling to stay conscious, and valiantly fighting back the black edges that threatened to close in on her again.

She whimpered weakly in his arms. “Make it stop. Please.” Then everything went dark.

Sondra had no idea how long she had been unconscious, but when she awoke both hands gripped the steering wheel. She whirled around and found Two Bears sitting in the back seat with an expressionless face. Acute sensations of arousal had disappeared, but the ache of longing had returned, this time stronger than she felt it back at the diner.

Something told her that everything she wanted to tell the old man would not be very convincing nor would it be relevant to her immediate future. The logical part of her had just spoken freely and with conviction, yet had no visible effect except to trigger another episode of intense arousal when no earthly reason existed for there to be one. She looked long and hard at Two Bears in the rearview mirror. Sondra felt more than knew that her original travel plans to Albuquerque no longer held the same level of priority.

Sondra did not consider herself one to give in easily to external influences changing her plans, but then something inside of her felt markedly different – something that lay sleeping deep inside had been awakened. Whatever the source, it remained shrouded in mystery, though a powerful lust and a sense of longing stirred, too overwhelming to ignore. Her soul had been touched by something – or by someone. Sondra fought within her mind to understand, and then, to control what was happening to her. The intensity of what she experienced at the diner and then again in the arms of this old Indian man filled her with uncharacteristic boldness and a fierce curiosity that forced her consider the implications of what the role of Nokee implied.

Looking into the eyes of the old Indian, her hands tightened on the wheel, and she searched his weathered face for clues of what the future held. She searched for clues, for permission to move, searched for some indication of what she needed to do next. She certainly required some instruction describing what one expected of a Nokee.

Sondra continued to study the old man in the rear view mirror, noting deep lines on his weathered face and long gray hair that spoke of considerable age. Even sitting down, he looked impressive despite a sturdy body hidden within long folds of his dark blue coat. His appearance fit the role of medicine man, maybe wise man, or shaman. Thoughts returned from her earlier conversation where he had been described as a spirit-walker, or spirit-caller, or something like that. Whatever the case, he at least looked the part. Silently, she wondered what his role could be beyond that of her guide. He shifted in his seat and pulled his worn leather satchel off his shoulder. Returning her gaze, his face remained emotionless. His eyes sparkled with energy that belied his tired, haggard exterior.

Finally he spoke to her, "We must go now."

"Go?" Sondra replied, hesitating. "Go where?"

"We must leave here and go to the ruins to the north."

Sondra formulated her best refusal just as another wave of sensation crept into her private spaces. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back onto the headrest, shuddering as a softer smooth wave of arousal washed through her. This time the violent urgency did not accompany the sensation. Instead, a heady flush of anticipation refocused her attention on the old man, coaxing her to reconsider what this old Indian told her. Sitting ramrod straight in the seat, he repeated with pronounced hint of finality, "We must go now."

Knowing she had no choice, Sondra complied. With a turn of the key the seasoned V8 sprang to life. She shifted into reverse and glanced in the rearview mirror again. The old Indian sat stoically, focusing his gaze straight ahead. Sondra exhaled heavily, resigned to the fact that Patricia would have to wait on her arrival in Albuquerque. This Nokee-thing had to be played out.

Sondra drove around the building and headed for the exit. She stopped at the edge of the parking lot and asked, "Where are we going?"

Without moving his gaze he said, "Take this road to the north. Just before you reach a great village called Santa Fe you will turn to the west; there you will follow a road to Puye Ruins. The spirit of White Eagle waits there for his beloved Nahe. He waits in the highest place, the place where his beloved Nahe took her life to join him in eternity."

All of the reasons Sondra should not be listening to this crazy old man passed away, forgotten, buried by the strange presence of a simmering arousal that stirred a strange desire and drew her onward. All of the reasons why she should boot him out of her car and proceed to Albuquerque to meet Patricia as planned evaporated as a sensation for completion grew relentlessly and steadily in her soul. The sensation did not feel as if it were part of her, yet in some ways it filled all of her.

Distant attractions she felt for this part of the country were closer now, somehow not so distant. The attraction changed from idle curiosity to something more intriguing. It changed to something much more personal, to something that stirred the woman inside of her. Nothing could explain why she felt the early stages of arousal building when there were no real reasons for those feelings to exist. Confusion over this new experience did not cause fear or apprehension; rather it generated a confirming flow of adrenaline gently urging her to pursue the journey ahead.

Sondra pulled out of the parking lot and turned left on State Route 285. Santa Fe was nearly two hours to the north. She drove steadily without attempting conversation. Occasionally, she would sneak a glance in the mirror only to find the old man staring straight ahead, his face frozen and emotionless; his gaze seemingly focused on something unseen. Hundreds of questions ran through her head, but two loomed larger than the rest. She pondered the implications to her immediate future, 'What was her role as Nokee?' and most importantly, 'Why her?'

As she headed down the deserted four-lane highway, the sun slowly retired to her left, slipping toward a new day in another part of the world. Sondra drove steadily in silence. Sensations of low-level arousal curiously remained with her. Reconfirming what she felt on the inside, she softly stroked her left breast, finding her nipple swollen with anticipation that matched the internal fire she felt building.

The broken white line splitting the lanes of State Route 285 became a hypnotic metronome drawing her away from herself and where she planned to go. A new journey had supplanted itself without her permission, and strangely, she had not protested. Logic had been derailed, replaced by a new priority, a priority imposing a power over her driven by a passion-fire she’d never known before.

***

A green road sign loomed in the distance with a promise that it was only 22 miles to Santa Fe. She’d driven for well over an hour and a half, but it seemed as though they’d just left Hardee's. The mystery of her destination seemed to diminish, and a sense of calm slowly spread through her. Lingering warnings of her logical mind had been pushed into the background. She unconsciously drew a deep breath, immediately coughing as the smell of smoke choked her. Her mind raced to explain the source. It was definitely smoke – wood smoke.

The car filled with the scent of a smoky wood fire. Quickly she scanned the gauges on the dashboard, confirming the Imperial had not overheated. Water temperature appeared within limits, and oil pressure likewise showed normal. She could smell it distinctly. A wood fire burned in close proximity. Glancing in the rearview mirror at the old Indian, she gasped in dismay. The back seat was empty. Jamming her left foot on the brake pedal, the Imperial protested with a shriek of its own, nosing into a hard stop. Sondra whirled around, not believing what the mirror revealed to her. Searching the backseat and the floorboards she validated what she saw in the mirror. He had disappeared.

"What the..." she started to speak. Turning back around in total disbelief, she gazed out across the wide, black hood of the car. Her eyes focused on the shimmering vapors rising into the air, radiating heat from the engine. Looking up, her eyes fell upon an old weathered sign not fifty feet in front of her that read, "Puye Ruins - 9 miles" with an arrow pointing to the left. Drawing a deep breath once more, she weighed her options.

"You must go now." His voice then spoke the haunting words, "Wahnit Nokee duwa yi Puye.”

An incredible surge of sensation gushed through her once again causing her to arch her back, rolling her hips downward, aching inside with acute, uncontrollable desire for deep, thrusting penetration. A more than generous wetness slickened between her thighs, and deep vibrations radiated upward toward her already erect nipples. A tingling sensation engulfed her breasts, continuing upward to her neck, and finally to her lips. Then, as quickly as the rush came upon her, the sensations subsided.

Sondra could not think, unable to discern what just happened to her. She fought to keep herself in the present, to keep her mind focused and sharp. Sensations of arousal she’d experienced were beyond anything she had ever felt before. It seemed like she’d been given a small taste of something very rare, something very precious, and she felt drawn to it with a single-mindedness that would not be denied. Without thinking and without hesitating, her left hand pulled the turn signal stick down. Steering to the left, she crossed the oncoming lanes and onto a worn strip of asphalt headed west and toward a rapidly retreating sun.

Looking at the dashboard clock Sondra noted it was almost five o'clock. Gripping the wheel with both hands, she contemplated what her next move should be. Despite driving onward, she hesitated in her conviction. The reasons for her misgivings were as unexplainable as they were undeniable. Her eyes squinted into the sun, hanging like a beacon just below the edge of her sun visor. It seemed to burn with an extraordinary orange glow, different than the sun she knew.

Suddenly, her nose filled with the unmistakable scent of a wood fire once more. The road began to blur before her, as she shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly shut for a brief second in an attempt to clear her vision. Upon reopening her eyes, she found herself standing on a high ledge, a very high ledge, looking down toward a rocky surface far below. Screaming, she jammed the brakes once again in panic. As the big car ground to a halt, she quickly closed her eyes again. Her breath held captive in her throat as she tensed at the horror of her vision. Gripping the wheel for support she reopened her eyes once more. There before her a late afternoon sun hovered harmlessly above a western horizon, slowly coaxing retirement of another regular day. The vision she witnessed had vanished.

With slumping shoulders, she leaned her head slowly forward to rest on the hub of the steering wheel. Her mind begged for explanation. First, there had been sensations of arousal, blinding orgasm, unconsciousness, and now this bizarre vision that scared hell out of her. All these events combined to create a burden she could not carry. A single tear formed at the edge of her right eye marking her inability to cope with the weight of the situation. She did not want the role of Nokee. Quiet sobs of frustration forced more tears out onto her young face leaving wet streaks to mark their passage.

Above her sobs she heard him comforting her. "Do not be afraid. No harm will come to you."

Sondra lifted her head to look in the rearview mirror. The backseat remained unoccupied, but the words she just heard were as though the old man sat right behind her. Continuing to look into the mirror she spoke to him, to no one, and asked, "What am I to do? I'm not sure I can be the Nokee. I'm so afraid."

Again his words came to her softly, "Do not be afraid my child. You are the Nokee. You were chosen to be Nokee because of your purity and your strength of truth. You are one of a very few who embody many of the same traits as the Princess of the Puye."

"But I..." Sondra started to protest, "I'm not sure if I can do this."

The warmth of his voice comforted her. "You must continue to the Ruins. There the spirit of White Eagle waits for your arrival. You have been chosen, dear child. Go and complete the journey for the spirit of Nahe. Do not be afraid. Go now!"

Wiping remnants of her tears away, Sondra removed her foot from the brake pedal and allowed the car to roll onward toward the setting sun. Indecision remained her only companion, as she began to think of a way out. Instantaneous with her thoughts of escape, another surge of arousal flooded through her causing her breath to catch short. This arousal was flavored with a more acute anticipation than before. This time something extra presented itself. An image began to form in her mind's eye; an image of a man. Again, Sondra’s foot came down on the brakes. The vision grew in intensity as she pulled to the side of the worn asphalt. She sat entranced as the image mystically continued to form growing in clarity. Her feelings of desire and longing increased as well.

The image was definitely that of a man. His shoulders were broad and muscular. Long black hair bundled in a ponytail hung between his shoulder blades and thick muscular arms hung at his sides framing a narrow waist. When the image became clearer it became apparent she looked at him from behind. Slowly the image started to turn toward her. His head turned offering a profile of his face. As his head turned toward her, the image turned to mist, and the vision evaporated. The longing that swirled within her surged to a new level. Although she had no proof, she was certain the image she saw had to be him; he had to be White Eagle.

The terrain became quite rugged, and the road snaked between gigantic rocks, as it angled upward, altitude increasing with every mile she drove. Scrub pines and gnarled mesquite bushes were scattered about standing like silent bodyguards among massive boulders. Topping a sharp rise, Sondra saw the land fall away in front of her and slope downward dramatically, disappearing between sheer cliffs rising abruptly from either side of a narrow valley. The pines were taller here, each jutting upward toward the sky offering a stark silhouette against the fading afternoon.

The road fell away, twisting and turning before it eventually disappeared into a dense forest of tall pines. After rounding a series of tight curves she saw the floor of the canyon spread out before her beyond the tightly packed trees. The scene reminded her of a trip to Yosemite when she was a child; sheer rock faces jutting vertically out of the valley floor amidst huge pine trees, each stretching for the sky. Sheer rock walls showed wear and deep hollowed-out pockets where eons ago raging torrents of water swirled endlessly in giant eddies, carving out huge concave indentations.

Rounding another sharp turn in the narrow road she saw it. Deep in an elbow of the canyon, ancient waters sculpted one of their greatest masterpieces; a huge cave-like nook. Tucked inside the expanse of the hollow were the Puye Ruins. The massive indention towered nearly six stories high, and spread several hundred feet in breadth. A honeycomb of apartments had been constructed within the nook, many with small square windows overlooking the valley below. Living quarters were stacked one atop the other and a network of primitive-looking wooden ladders linked tiny courtyards between clusters of apartments. Her eyes remained glued to the magnificent architecture, as she drove closer.

Sondra pulled into an adjacent parking area cordoned off with a split-rail fence. She parked facing the Ruins, and sat in silent awe. Shifting into park and setting the brake, she switched off the engine. Cool dry air of the high country greeted her with majestic stillness, and the early evening chill proved to be incentive enough to switch on the ignition and raise the convertible top. Sondra leaned toward the open window and her eyes roamed upward toward the top of the complex structure. Tucked under the uppermost edge of the rock indention she saw a grouping of three larger apartments. Adrenaline shot through her when she realized what she saw - the highest place. Her stomach flipped in anticipation, as she recalled the old Indian's instructions for her to go to the highest place.

As if on cue, her attention turned to the absolute serenity of this secluded part of the valley. Sitting in calm reverence, she marveled at the pureness of the silence. A high-pitched scream of an eagle echoed off the walls, piercing the solitude. Before sound of the great bird's cry died, the arousal returned. Radiating outward from her center were slow even contractions, each one increasing in intensity, each one rendering her unable to draw a complete breath. Never had she experienced anything so intense. Something had taken over her body. Never had she felt such powerful longing. Never had she experienced anticipation as powerful as this. Fear came to her in a rush, as the prospects of the unknown welled up inside of her. She was alone in uncharted territory, frightened by extraordinary arousal coursing through her body. She had no point of control, no point of reference she could grasp as a viable source for what she felt.

Without ever making a conscious decision to move, she bolted from the car driven by a sense of urgency she could not explain – only obey. Facing the Ruins she stood tall, feeling every inch of her 5'6" frame reaching for the sky. Lifting her arms slowly, palms up, she arched her back, offering herself to the Ruins. Drawing a deep breath she spoke with a strong voice. What came from her lips were not words, not song, but an answering cry to the eagle. Her voice filled the small corner of the valley, quickly building to a shrill scream, fueled by animal lust, and driven by passion she could not understand.

As the sound of her scream echoed and died away, a tingling sensation of weightlessness enveloped her. It felt like she would fall, and she struggled to regain her balance. Something prevented her from moving her arms and her legs. Looking down she discovered she had been elevated nearly twenty feet above the ground and she continued to rise. Drawing a breath to scream in terror, the voice returned once more, "Do not be afraid my child. No harm will come to you."

The progress of her ascent increased, as her eyes turned upward, looking in the direction of her travel. The top edge of the Ruins, the highest place, drew nearer and appeared to be her ultimate destination. Feelings of uncontrolled fear slowly diminished and were replaced with the thrilling rush of anticipation. As she neared the pinnacle of the Ruins, she started to rotate, turning to face the valley. Still frozen and unable to move her arms or legs, her movement slowed. Finally, she came to a stop, suspended in mid air about six inches from the roof of the top-most apartment.

A shadow whisked across her face causing her to look upward. Again, the eagle’s shrill scream filled her ears. Twisting her head, she could see the huge bird floating on the warm updrafts rising along the face of the cliff. The great bird's cry died with the remnants of a cacophony of echoes off the opposite valley wall. Sondra still hung frozen, suspended off the ground, arms outstretched, watching the great bird soar high above. Turning and dipping its wing, the eagle dropped toward her. As it fell from the sky, it gained speed, heading straight for her. Just before reaching her, it opened its great wings wide and flared its broad tail feathers to brake gracefully. Large taloned-claws reached for the edge of the rooftop, as the big bird folded its wings upon landing. Warily, it stepped toward her, stopping short, cocking its head to investigate her closely.

Sondra's breath had long since left her, as she watched the bird streak toward her, and now, only three feet away, staring at her while she hung helplessly suspended in midair. The great bird stood motionless, staring at her intently. Sondra fearlessly returned its gaze. Slowly, the bird began to radiate a soft blue light, forming an aura about its form. The blue light flickered in intensity and turned a rich, cobalt-blue tinged with gold. Shards of bright, blue-white light sparkled around the outermost fringes of the blue-gold aura. Sondra squinted at the brightness, hypnotized with wonder, fear long forgotten. The bird's glow increased to the point of nearly blinding Sondra. Pinching her eyes tighter against the intense light, she saw the bird's form begin to change shape. Even before the transformation was complete, she knew she had to be looking at White Eagle.

The change from bird to man only took about thirty seconds. Within Sondra's body another transformation took place. She experienced a heightened arousal unmatched by anything thus far in her life. Intense longing engulfed her, swirling through her brain with flashing images of him touching her, holding her, lifting her in his powerful arms. She ached for him and wanted nothing more than to be taken body and soul. Her womanhood was swollen and soaking with more lubricating juices than she thought possible. An undercurrent of tremors began to reverberate deep inside of her, the walls of her vagina tensed and contracted, begging for a deep penetrating presence. Her breasts felt heavy, longing for touch, and her neck and lips tingled, burning for attention. Her eyes were closed, as she leaned her head back, swimming in the fountain of lust that gushed within her body.

Sondra’s eyes popped open wide and wild, as she felt two strong hands about her waist. Staring into her face were coal-black eyes deeper than the deepest well. She searched his face for some trace of recognition, some clue of the ancient past that brought them together. There were no such clues, and yet she sensed a certainty that this moment was meant to be. His forehead was strong with perfect, thin eyebrows bordering coal-black eyes. He had a strong broad nose poised over luscious lips and a beardless, bold jaw-line framed a face of absolute perfection. His powerful neck met the tops of his shoulders with well-defined muscles. He wore a pendant Sondra recognized as a dream-catcher; a small leather circle interwoven with thin sinew threads strung with colorful beads. Beneath the beads hung two small tufts of eagle down wafting in the early evening breeze.

Her eyes continued to drink in his beauty, lapping up details of every inch of his flawless skin. His broad chest, smooth and hairless; muscles of his abdomen stacked evenly above a waist seemingly chiseled out of pure stone. Gasping, she lost her breath for the last time, as her eyes fell upon on what she could only describe as the ultimate erection. His penis stood upright, bobbing with every beat of his heart. His manhood, his magnificent nakedness projected raw power and a clear statement of absolute ownership.

Sondra knew at that instant she belonged to him. She knew the penis she looked at was intended for her, and desire exploded inside her screaming with every ounce of conviction for the ultimate penetrating fuck. More than anything in the world she wanted him to take her and fuck her with that glorious cock. As she continued to look mesmerized at his body, a sudden realization that she too was completely naked. That instant of discovery turned into the final spark that set her body on fire. Passion streaked beyond describable limits, desperation and unbridled wantonness flooded her being. She could not speak and still could not move her arms. She had to tell him of her desire. She had to tell him who badly she wanted him. He had to know of her unconditional submission. Her eyes searched his face for words, expression, anything to verify he knew her need for him.

The blackness of his eyes spoke nothing back to her, but words resonated in her head, "My Nahe. I have missed you for many years. I have wanted you in my arms as many times as the sun has crossed the sky. I have burned for you as many times as the fires in every camp were kindled. And now...this day...the Great Spirits have allowed us to be together. In this moment I promise you will be mine for as long as I will be yours."

Sondra opened her mouth to speak, but again no words came out, though in her head she heard words of her reply, "White Eagle, my beloved, my longing has been equally as strong for you. My patience has been as broad as the night sky and my thoughts have lingered with you for as many stars that shine in the night. Take me, my lover, and make me your woman, your wife. Hold me to you, and give yourself to me as I wrap my gift around you. In each other’s arms is where we are destined to stay.”

His hands tightened around Sondra’s waist, as the force suspending her dissipated. Instinctively, her arms reached out and wrapped around his neck and her legs rose up to embrace his waist. Massive hands shifted to cradle her bottom, as he lowered her toward their ultimate reunion. Sondra's breath quickened, taking short shallow gulps of air, waiting for the sensation of his magnificent cock to spread her open. With a single thrust he filled her, stretching her, splitting her, pushing deep, deep enough to cleave her soul. She felt him touch her where no man had ever touched her, and her full weight rode down hard upon his presence. He held her to him, not moving, clutching her bottom in his hands, and pulling her down to limits only their bodies could define.

His head leaned back as coal-black eyes rolled up into eyelids yielding to ecstasy, moaning and staggering under intense pleasure of feeling his Nahe accepting him. Sondra tried to cry out, her own ecstasy streaked higher than any peak before. White Eagle opened his mouth and screamed her name, lifting her slightly before dropping her onto his manhood, driving another mighty thrust into her. Sondra clutched his neck and ground herself onto him, fucking him, fucking him back as though rightful passions had been denied for lonely generations. Ankles crossed and heels dug into his back, as she strained to force him deeper, vibrating in passion's fiery embrace. Again and again he thrust into her, each time staggering, stepping backward. He heaved into her and gasped as Sondra met his final thrust, exploding into the throes of violent orgasm, sending surging white-hot lust into her. Vibrations from his climax overwhelmed her, and she bucked in his arms, legs spreading wider and toes pointing outward. She hung from him, impaled on his cock just as her own orgasm exploded inside, ripping through her, mixing with his hot seed of completion. Both wanted to scream their satisfaction of sweet loving denied, though neither could utter a word.

He thrust again, stumbling, taking another step backward. The edge of the highest place did not afford him another step, and he fell out into space, clutching her tightly to his body. Together they plummeted toward the rocky floor below. Reality and disbelief endured time enough for Sondra to scream. Clutching each other tightly, they fell. Apartments below the highest place rushed past them in a blur. Jagged rocks on the ground below became magnified, as sudden death waited with open arms to claim them.

***

A sharp tapping sound came from a distant place. First there were only a couple of sounds; then a series of rapid taps followed. Sondra opened her eyes staring into light brighter than the sun, blinding her, and she struggled to block it with her hands. She fought to make sense of it. She felt no pain. Could this be death? Could this be the white light of heaven? Then in the distance she heard a voice calling to her.

"Ma'am! Ma'am! Are you okay?"

As her senses returned to her, Sondra realized she sat buckled in behind the steering wheel of her car. Coming fully coherent, she jerked backward realizing the tapping sound came from outside the car, and the light shone from a large flashlight wielded by a Park Ranger. He’d been tapping on the edge of her door trying to rouse her. It was pitch black outside. Night had fallen. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious.

"Ma'am, you can't camp here. It's against park rules," the Ranger explained.

"I...I'm not camping. I just came here to..." Sondra's voice fell away, lost in the ability to explain what happened to her – or had it?

"I'm sorry ma'am, but you’ll have to move along. I don't want to write you up," the Ranger continued.

"Yes, okay. I'll leave right now. I'm sorry, I must’ve dozed off," Sondra explained weakly, figuring the real story surrounding her visit may be worth at least a written citation for being certifiably crazy.

She turned the key in the ignition, and the Imperial's engine growled to life. Switching on headlights, she backed away from the Ruins and turned back up the twisting road toward State Route 285. This time she would head south, back to the Interstate, and back to the plans of her original journey.

Her head buzzed, still filled with vivid memories of what just transpired. She tingled with excitement and a luxurious sense of satisfaction. Her body still hummed from her experience with vibrations of a not-so-distant orgasm. Running her hand up her thigh she encountered soaking wetness on the insides of her thighs. Sliding her hand up to her chest, she reached for her breasts, but her hand touched something foreign. At first she pulled away, not knowing what it could be, and the darkness inside the car made it difficult to see. Cautiously, she reached back to investigate.

Her fingers lightly touched what felt like a small circle. Grasping it lightly, she realized it hung suspended from a string around her neck. In the darkness, her fingers felt the shape. There were several beads just below the circle and something soft and fluffy hung beneath them. Her breath stopped short, as she recognized it as the dream-catcher White Eagle wore around his neck. She clutched it tightly in her hand, and tears began to well up in her eyes. The soft voice of a woman filled her head. "Thank you."

Sondra gasped with shock and stomped the brake pedal to the floor. The two right-side tires skidded off the narrow pavement kicking up dust that rolled and swirled in front of the headlights. She sat there behind the wheel, struggling to breathe, her chest heaving with strangling disbelief. Reaching for the door handle, she shouldered the heavy door open and stumbled out onto the blacktop. With one hand clutching the dream-catcher, she looked up into the blanket of stars speckling the heavens and drew a deep breath, unleashing the scream of the eagle into the night.