Nightrise

shaman kicking at the horse, but not very hard and with little effect. At last the figure drew close and he was able to see the man in whom Joe had such faith. He wasn't impressed.
    The shaman was one of the oldest men Daniel had ever seen. He had the sort of face one would have expected to see on a corpse, the skin withered and yet at the same time stretched light over the skull.
    What few teeth he had left seemed to be on the edge of falling out. His arms were emaciated and there was a hollow in his throat you could have put your fist into. His hair was silver. It was long, hanging down to his shoulders in the back, tied with a piece of black ribbon. Only the shaman's eyes were truly alive. They were gray in Color but they seemed to shine with an inner strength.
    Very slowly, he climbed down from the horse. Joe was still standing there, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes turned down.
    "Goddamn horse!" The shaman turned and spat. "I've only been on it a couple of hours and I swear I've been sitting on a cactus." He turned to Joe. "Don't just stand there, Joe Feather. Make me a cup of tea!
    And I wouldn't say no to a piece of pie if you happen to have one."
    It was only now that he heard the voice that Daniel realized that the shaman was not a man but a woman.
    Her body had reached such a stage of decay that it was hard to tell the difference. Suddenly he felt her eyes on him.
    ''You Danny?"
    ''Yes, ma'am." Danny wasn't sure what to call her.
    "How long they keep you in that prison of theirs?"
    "I was there for thirty weeks and three days."
    "And I bet you counted every one of them." She shook her head. "There's evil people in this world.
    There are people who don't deserve to walk the land and that's the truth. Now, let's take a look at this boy."
    Her manner changed as she approached the silent figure of Jamie. She knelt down beside him and rested a gnarled hand against his forehead. Joe was busying himself with a kettle but she called out to him.
    "Forget that, Joe. Come and help me turn him."
    Joe hurried over and the two of them turned Jamie onto his side. The back of his T-shirt was saturated with blood. Daniel could see the hole where the bullet had gone in. The shaman examined the entrance wound, touching it gently with the tip of her finger.
    "Is it bad?" Joe asked.
    "It's bad. It couldn't be much worse. The first thing we're going to have to do is get that bullet out. Lucky you've got a fire burning. We're going to need that."
    "Is he going to live?"
    The shaman shook her head as if dismissing the question.
    She turned to Daniel. "I want you to go back into the tepee," she said. "I know you want to stay and help but there's nothing you can do and this is something no young child should have to see."
    "Please…" Daniel wanted to argue, but one look at the old woman's eyes told him not to waste his time.
    He did as he was told.
    The shaman nodded at Joe. "Take off his shirt."
    Joe knelt down beside Jamie. He didn't try to pull the shirt over Jamie's head. Instead, he used a knife to cut the material, then ripped it apart, exposing the wound. The skin was bright red and puffed up around the bullet hole. Meanwhile, the shaman had gone back to the horse and untied a leather bag that had been strapped to the saddle. As she returned to the unconscious boy, she opened it and took out some muslin packets tied with strips of sinew, some bowls, two glass bottles, and a wooden wand, about four inches long, with an eagle carved at the top. Finally she produced a knife. Joe looked at it and winced.
    There was nothing ancient about the knife. It was a straightforward surgical scalpel.
    She caught his eye. "The spirits will only do so much," she said. "To start with, we have to cut the bullet out."
    Joe nodded.
    "Tell me when my tea is ready," the shaman said.
    She leaned over Jamie and made the first cut.

    ***
    Daniel waited for as long as he could. He tried to sleep but now that the sun was up, it was too hot, even in the shade of the tepee. He wished he could talk to his mother but he doubted that the shaman carried a cell phone — and anyway it was the wrong time to ask. Perhaps in the end he did manage to doze off, because the next thing he knew, there were long shadows falling across the tepee, and the heat seemed to have lessened. Once again, he crawled out through the flap, not sure what he was expecting to find.
    Joe was sitting next to Jamie, who looked no better than he had the last time Daniel had