Tricked

It’s a big bird, whatever it is. But it doesn’t smell like a hawk or a raven. Not a crow either. ‹
    › Hmm. I see the bobcat prints here, the human prints too.… ‹ These were mostly smudges and scuffs in the sandy dirt; there was nothing like a perfect print in the mud waiting for us there. › Look for bird tracks. Careful where you step. ‹
    › Well, I think I found some. These aren’t bobcat claws. ‹
    › Let me see. ‹ I padded over to where Oberon had his nose to the ground and considered the outlines of two large talon marks. It was an incomplete print—impossible to tell the species without a clearer picture, but it was definitely a larger bird.
    › You think they flew out of here? ‹ Oberon asked.
    › Yep. They used this little knoll as their staging area. Fly in here with bobcat skins in their talons and land. Shift out of bird skins and leave them here. Shift into bobcats and attack us. After they killed Darren, they probably came back here and shifted out of their bobcat skins too, because they had to talk. So I stuck one, and that’s when they returned and shifted into birds again. Perfect way to prevent anyone tracking them home. But one was injured right at the shoulder, so his buddy probably had to carry him. I doubt he’d be able to fly in his condition. ‹
    › Is that physically possible, for a bird to carry another one? ‹
    › Sure, some of the bigger birds can carry their own weight or more. I can carry twice my weight when I’m in owl form. ‹
    › Ah, but a five-ounce bird cannot carry a one-pound coconut. Got it. ‹
    › Probably had to make two trips. He would have had to come back and get the bobcat skins too. ‹
    I looked up and around. There were any number of places to the north and west where the skinwalkers could be hiding, all kinds of little holes up in the mesa, lots of water-carved caves and the like. If Frank Chischilly had known precisely where they were, I’m sure he would have told me. Hell, if Coyote had known where they were, he wouldn’t have had to resort to tricking me like he did. So now we had two choices: We could spend all day searching for them, with the distinct possibility of finding nothing, or we could go back to the hogan and approach the problem from a different direction.
    › Damn. They’re craftier than I thought, Oberon. I prefer my mortal enemies to be stupid. ‹
    › Are we through here? Can I mark up the place? ‹
    › Sure. In fact, I think I’ll join you for the fun of it. Feels like it’s been ages since I allowed myself to be immature. ‹ Oberon and I went around lifting our legs on scrub cedar, boulders, and the javelin.
    Granuaile wrinkled her nose at us. » That’s really classy, sensei. «
    Oberon and I chuffed at her.

Chapter 10
    Plan B was to get the gold moved under the mountain and then get out of there so that the skinwalkers would pursue me—the cure for Famine’s curse—and leave the Navajos alone. The problem was, once I returned to the proposed site and broached the subject, Colorado didn’t feel like cooperating.
    //Reluctance / Discord / Hate mines// he told me. Well, fair enough. But I had to get him to agree, not only to fulfill my obligation to Coyote but to give myself a free hand to deal with the skinwalkers.
    //Necessity / Urgency// I replied.
    //Query: What necessity?//
    It took some time to explain why Coyote’s plan for solar and wind power was far superior to the current coal mining operation going on. To Colorado, a mine was nothing more than a giant hole with unconscionable water usage and a surefire way to destroy the habitat of anything living nearby. But he conceded that generating power from clean energy was better than generating it from coal—even if the government wanted to call it » clean coal, « an Orwellian oxymoron if ever there was one. Still, he flatly refused to provide material for a precious metals mine while the coal mine continued to operate.
    //Query: Coal mine ends, gold mine begins?// I asked.
    //Yes / Coal mine must remain closed//
    //Agreed / Harmony// I said.
    //Harmony// Colorado gave the equivalent of a mental nod.
    When I came out of it, the workers were breaking for lunch. They’d been working on the roof with a sense of purpose since Darren’s body had been taken away, and Sophie Betsuie had stayed down in the flat with the surveying crew, laying out whatever plans Coyote had cooked up. Coyote himself had yet to make an appearance. Granuaile was