Willing Sacrifice: Chapter 13, continued



Chapter 13 continued: Kian’s Vision


The woman came into the valley knowing what she would find–a home for herself and her adopted people.

As she stood surveying the valley, her brother Samus came and put his arm around her. “You have done well. The Sight has not abandoned us altogether, I see.”

They were the last two of their people to survive the journey from their sinking lands to the East. A dozen or so had made it to this wild shore. Now only Mageon and Samus were left. They would have to marry into the tribe that had taken them in. Otherwise their line, their heritage would not survive. Mageon could think of a couple of men she fancied. Samus had already taken a bride and had a son.

“We will put up stone shelters and cover them with earth. When the rock storms come from the sky, we will be safe there. The storms will not last forever, I think. One day the earth will find her balance again and there will be peace.”

The thunderbirds, taller than a man and with wingspans to match, had followed the people west, although they, too, had diminished in number. When the rock storms came, it was hard for a bird so big to escape.

Samus set about building shelters, showing the other men how it was done. Many of the stones were piled. They selected the most beautiful rocks they could find. In the firelight, they sparkled. When the stones were piled high, sometimes around dirt mounds to hold the corbeling in place, they used sails made of animal skins to lift the one large flat stone that would be the roof. This they learned by studying the aerodynamics of the thunderbirds. The winds of the shifting planet quickly caught the animal skins that were tied to the rock. It was not so much a matter of lifting the rock as it was of holding it down and guiding it in the strong winds.

Many shelters were made, one for each family. Then Samus’s medicine chamber was built into the side of an earthen mound. Samus fashioned a small window in the back so that the setting sun would form a light show as it sank down on the two equal days of the year, the Equinoxes. With this, generations to come would be able to track the seasons, knowing when it was time to plant the grains, to move out to hunt, but most of all when it was time for the festivals that would bring the earth back into balance.

Samus, now an old man, had one more task: to build a replica of his lost city so his sons and their sons would remember. Using fire and water, he shaped hard rock into semi-circles. Then he placed them in 3 rings. Each represented a ring on the isle that was once their home. There were 12 rocks in each ring, representing the 12 constellations. Spaces were left between each stone in each of the rings so that a straight channel was created from the center to the outside of the ring. In their homeland, these channels were waterways, used to travel.  

If he’d had the right metals at hand, Samus could have lined each ring with the proper ore, making a coil that would do… what? Samus’s memory was faltering. He could no longer remember.”



Kian recalled the vision perfectly. The details were so clear, she had seen it, not heard or imagined it. The people in the story had walked in front of her as she sat there, had talked and moved as if real. True, the different scenes faded in and out, but each had been tangible, as if she could reach out and touch the people. Even as she listened to Aidan reading, she could see and feel it all again. It was so real, it scared her.

“Kian, I want you to see something.” Aidan pointed to the bottom of the printout. “Whose writing is that, your dad’s or Jacob’s?”

“Dad’s, why?”

“Because it says, ‘Kian’s vision verified by translation #S516 (Samus history of Bucknun settlement) & N534 (Naesus ap Samus entry).’ You still think this is make believe?”

Kian, lost in a fog, picked at a loose thread on her recliner. She did not know what think.

“Do we need to find those entries, or shall we take your father’s word for it?” Aidan asked, a smug smile on his face.

“Okay, okay, stop gloating. If he said it, I believe it,” Kian replied.

“I am not gloating and I think we should go see those chambers.”

Kian’s heart seemed to stop. “Oh my god, the other side of the ridge where those thugs parked their van, there’s a dirt trail that goes to the chambers. You don’t suppose that’s where they are right now, do you?”

Aidan snatched his cell phone from the coffee table and punched the main button. “Text Jimbo,” he said.

When the screen came up, Aidan punched at the tiny letters. He hit send.

A minute later his phone pinged. Aidan read, “At stone ruins with perps.”

“Tell him not to let….”

“I got it,” replied Aidan. He punched in the text, “Do not let them destroy. 12,000 year old site. Going to Jacob’s.” He punched send.

When Jimbo’s message came back, he showed it to Kian. “Got it covered. Won’t let them move a pebble. Tell me more later.”

Aidan took Kian by the hand and led her to the door. “Come on, let’s go while Jimbo still has them under surveillance.”




Kian’s vision is based on the structures at a site called Gungywamp. I have transplanted the structures found there to Kian’s property in Putnam County.

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