Way of the Heron

The Way Of The Heron

by C. T. Creekmur

Chapter Three

The Valley Of The Heron

Author's warning: This story depicts men performing sexual acts upon one another that immature people might find shocking. If graphic depictions of sex between men upsets you, or if you are under 21 years of age, then DO NOT READ THIS! - go read something else!

Please understand that this is a work of fantasy and fiction, set in a time when safe sex was unheard of. It is not intended to provoke or promote promiscuity or abandonment of common sense where sex is concerned. Especially in this day and age.

Though historical personages are mentioned, none of the principal characters are based on real individuals and any similarity to such is coincidental. This story is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author.

Historical Note: This episode happens in August of 1867. It is set in the homeland of the Elxa, the valley of the heron.

And now, on with the story!

THE VALLEY OF THE HERON

Zack Weir was not sure he believed the strange stories he had heard concerning the Elxa, about the mystic powers the secretive tribe of Indians were supposed to possess, but he journeyed to find them anyway, hoping the natives would know how to remove the horrific curse that had been laid upon him by an evil force, one beyond the ken of any white man...

But as Zack moved through the Elxa's beautiful valley, lost amid the shadows of rugged, snowclad mountains, meeting the gentle men there who shared his nature, using the love of their bodies to raise primal energies, work magic and commune with supernatural beings, he came to know himself and share the secrets of...

THE VALLEY OF THE HERON

A lone, pale blonde man in his early twenties strode determinedly towards the top of a rocky rise. It was an abrupt upthrust of lichen-covered volcanic rock that rose in rugged steps from the forest floor, the summit standing just above the treetops. As he gained altitude, the man sighed as he felt a cool breeze coming to caress his skin.

For some time, he had only heard the wind as he trekked through the still air of the forest floor. It seemed to sing to him from above as it moved through the lofty branches of the Douglas firs and the needles of the sugar pines. The refreshing fragrance of the ubiquitous evergreens was still cloyingly strong there, above the treetops, wrapping itself tenaciously around the traveler like a living, amorous thing.

As he came into the bright sunlight, patches of sweat showed darkly on his garments, a buckskin shirt and faded jeans. At last, he reached the summit of the rock and his scuffed boots crunched to a stop. At six foot five and around two hundred forty pounds, he was a massive, imposing bear of a man, strikingly tall and thickly muscled, with broad shoulders and a deep, rounded chest.

The traveler easily bore the weight of a pack of supplies he carried on his back. Hanging by a strap from his right shoulder, ready to drop into his hands if he should give a shrug, was a Winchester rifle, fully loaded and ready for use. Though Oregon had been a fully-fledged state of the union for the better part of a decade and had a new and growing system of railroads linking expanding and prosperous towns, some parts of the country still remained untouched wilderness and abounded with dangerous wildlife: wolves, carcajou, grizzlies and puma.

The man paused, leaning on his well-worn hiking staff, and took advantage of the break in his trek to wipe the sweat from his brow. He stretched slowly, appeasing the little aches that played in his back, shoulders and neck from walking all day. His shoulder-length hair had been tied back with a length of rawhide string. The short ponytail bobbed around as his head moved.

A full, pale beard fell in gentle waves from his lower face, while a pair of hazel, almost amber colored eyes, that sometimes flashed with odd golden glimmers, looked out from beneath wild, bushy eyebrows. The man took a deep breath of the pine and fir scented air as he scanned the green and pleasant landscape, across the undulating upland ridges spread out before him. As far as he could see, the world was alive with all the irresistible viridescent vigor of late summer. The vista called to his mind a poem in praise of the season:

Glowing scene! Nature's long holy-day! luxuriant - rich, In Her proud progeny, She smiling marks Their graces now mature, and wonder-fraught. Hail! Season exquisite!

He lifted one hand to his face and stroked his beard absently as he checked the landmarks that were guiding him towards his goal. His hands and fingers were covered with soft, fair hairs that curled all the way up to the second knuckles. They gave a hint of the thick, pale blonde pelt that graced the rest his body.

Only a few days before, he had left his home in the valley of the Willamette and followed that river and its southernmost tributaries inland as far as his canoe could carry him. Then, leaving his vessel at an isolated point along Staley Creek, he struck out overland, going southward across the watershed that separated the drainage of the Willamette from that of the Umpqua. Upon reaching the latter river, whose waters seemed to greet him gayly as they flashed and sparkled a liquid, limpid green in the sunlight, he began following the flow towards its source.

As the man progressed, he encountered and skirted a mountain lake, shining like a deep blue gem set amid the green and pleasant uplands. Along the way he saw signs that told him others had followed the same path before him. His route gradually became a more defined trail, marked at increasing intervals by standing stones. Despite many seasons of weathering and the mottled variety of lichens that grew across their uneven surfaces, he could still make out many of the odd, unintelligible symbols some artist had carved on the old stones.

From time to time, the traveler also noted lesser trails that left the track he was following. Most of them led away to the east, but he stayed his course southward, keeping alert for a prominent landmark he had been told to watch for. He had not left the small lake too far behind him when he came upon a deserted campsite set on the opposite bank of the Umpqua.

A weathered wickyup, its humped form resembling nothing less than a huge tortoise shell, crouched next to a blackened firepit. Not far away from those constructs, a small waterfall fell into a shining pool which sparkled invitingly at the traveler. It was not until later that the man found the water in that small pond to be delightfully warm, charged with the outflow from a hot spring that spewed from a steaming vent somewhere upstream.

The pool's overflow ran in a small stream to join the emerald waters of the Umpqua. Another trail coming from the west paralleled this rivulet and passed close to the campsite on its way to the river's edge before reappearing again on the other side, bisecting the one he was following and then disappeared into the thick woods to the east. But it was none of these things that caused the traveler to stop and stare in wonder.

The sight of the landmark he had been looking for halted him. Though it had been described to him, the object's reality astonished the traveler. A great, evenly rounded hump of dark volcanic rock was protruding from the earth, a stone's throw away from the empty camp. It was perhaps three times the traveler's height, overshadowing the young saplings that grew nearby, and nearly as much again across. Altogether, the enormous stone gave the impression of a giant child's marble half embedded in the ground.

This singular outcrop's entire exposed surface was covered with native carvings. The pictoglyph decorations appeared to be the collective work of generations of artists. From his vantage point on the opposite side of the river, the markings gave the stone the appearance of being engraved, as thickly and intricately as a moorish bracelet.

The traveler could not resist the desire to ford the river and camp beside the decorated stone. He wanted to give himself time to thoroughly look the curious landmark over, to climb its corrugated sides and later lie on top of it to dry off after a swim in the river or a soak in the pool of hot water. As the sun and wind caressed his nude form, he caressed himself, until his seed spurted onto the rock and soaked into the mysterious markings, adding a bit of himself to the monument.

As he did so, he imagined the other men who must have been there before him and done the same as he, communing with nature and the amorous ghosts of other visitors' passions. How he wished one or more of those fellow travelers might be near at hand then, as he longed to touch masculine flesh and be touched in return. He left his mark with theirs upon the stone, physically not as enduring as the carvings, but present nonetheless.

Streaks and spots of pearly passion evoked by the longings in a man-loving male's heart shone like nacre in the sunlight. As he looked upon them, he felt a kinship with those who had gone before. And with the unborn men who would lie where he lay and do as he had done in the unknowable future.

Yes, he would have comrades as long as there would be men like him, man-loving men, spiritual brothers. But oh, to find another, just one, now in the flesh whom he could love and be loved by. What would he not give for such a companion!

His dreams were disturbed that night. Strange, violent images haunted him and at daybreak he found disturbing proof of their reality, making him even more determined to find what he was seeking. As soon as he could, he struck out on the trail that led eastward, away from the site of the unusual landmark, as he had been instructed to. More glyph engraved stone markers lined his path, guiding him, until he had turned aside to climb the upthrust of rock he encountered.

Where he then stood and rested, a substantial part of the southern Cascade wilderness lay exposed to his view. He looked to the westward and saw a distant, silvery, sparkling shimmer that played like a mirage, appearing and disappearing through the intervening treetops. It was the light being reflected off a much larger lake whose name the man did not know. Perhaps it was the source of the Umpqua.

A weird, harsh cry echoed above him just then. He noted with interest the source of the sound, a pair of huge birds, great blue herons, gliding through the clear mountain air on enormous, dusty blue wings, heading towards the glistening waters. He idly wondered if the birds were an omen, a sign sent to encourage him on his way.

Turning, the traveler looked to the eastward, where, as far as one could see north and south, stood a majestic succession of carbon-blue mountains studded with snowy volcanic peaks. Their jagged tops reached dizzyingly high into the deep blue, almost turquoise, sky. He counted the most prominent spires off from north to south: Cowhorn Mountain, Windigo Butte, Mount Howlock.

Then his eyes rested on and studied the next imposing peak, by far the tallest in that section of the southern Cascade range, its sharp, icy summit glinting pastel sparks of pink and blue and purple in the sunlight. The native name for the mountain was Zoraxte. Somewhere in the supposedly trackless wilderness lying between the lofty mountain's base and the anonymous lake was his goal, a place that he had been told was called the valley of the heron.

The man sighed, taking in the damp, delicious smell of the upland forest, where fragrant ferns grew densely between the trees. He noted the sun's position, already lowering towards the west. It seemed the most prudent thing for him to do just then was to begin looking for a place to camp for the night. He took one last look around, ready to start searching for a serviceable clearing in the forest.

Then the man's strange amber eyes spotted something in the distance that made him hesitate. What he saw was a thin, barely discernible column of smoke, a pale bluish streamer rising, it seemed, from the far side of the next ridge to the east. Perhaps he had found another traveler.

Turning towards it, he hiked his way through the intervening forest, down to one of the many small streams he had been encountering with increasing frequency, across it and up, over the far ridge and then down again. At the bottom, he turned aside to parallel another stream he came to, the course of which was marked by a generous growth of dainty, gray-green ferns. Their feathery tips slapped his denim-clad thighs languidly as he passed with a faint rustling sound.

Though the afternoon sun still shed plenty of light, he found his route deeply shadowed by stands of sugar pine, incense cedar, white alder and lacey vine maple, their parti-colored trunks irregularly mottled with pale lichens and dark green, almost black, mosses. As he approached the spot where he had seen the smoke coming from, a thin, hollow sound came to his ears, a melodic emanation, echoing singly through the verdant woodlands. Someone was playing a flute!

It was the flickering light of a campfire that gave the man his first glimpse of his goal. It was a small, orange glimmer, flaring like some exotic flower amid a good-sized clearing. By its wavering light, he could see a single native sitting on a log drawn up next to the fire, playing his flute. It almost seemed as if the brave were piping to the smoke that rose up from the flames, as a snake charmer would before a swaying cobra.

The blonde man stopped at a prudent distance that was in full view of the Indian's camp. Propping his staff against a tree, he pulled a pouch of makings from his shirt pocket and proceeded to roll a cigarette. He deliberately took his time.

When he finally struck the match, he made sure his face was illuminated by the burst of flame as he lit the thin white stick. He inhaled and the tip glowed like a small orange star. His show of openness was rewarded as the brave stopped playing, stood up and moved to throw more fuel on the campfire, sending up a shower of sparks. The flames took the dry wood and blazed up, revealing more of the surrounding clearing, the camp and the man who dwelt there.

'Hmm,' the traveler thought as he studied the native. Fragrant blue smoke curled lazily through his bushy moustache as he waited. 'That Indian probably heard me comin' a mile off.'

"Hello," the brave greeted his visitor, coming closer.

"You speak English?"

"Yes. My name is Mayati."

"I'm Zack Weir."

As the traveler replied, he extended a big, hairy paw of a hand. Mayati squeezed the proffered hand firmly, examining it. He was obviously intrigued by the generous growth of hair the white man sported on his body, perhaps sparking his next words.

"If you are looking for a place to sleep tonight, you are welcome to share my camp."

"I am, and I'm much obliged."

Retrieving his staff, Zack clinched the cigarette in his teeth as he shrugged off his rifle and backpack. As he did so, he looked the handsome native over while the leather straps fell into his right hand and he lowered his equipment to the ground. He liked what he saw.

Mayati appeared to be in his early twenties, like Zack. His long, shiny black hair was unbound and fell loosely far past his tautly muscled shoulders. He was wearing only a deerskin breechclout with a strange design worked in colored beads across the front flap. It only partly obscured what looked to be a well-filled genital pouch.

Besides the simple skin garment, the only other things Mayati wore were moccasins and a stone pendant, suspended between the dark nipples of his smooth, tawny chest. The ornament appeared to be a flat, rounded pebble from a streambed, pierced so that it could hang from the rawhide string around Mayati's throat. Engraved on its surface was a strange, curling glyph, an idealized heron's head.

Zack's eyes widened a little as he recognized the symbol. A memory several days old flashed through his mind. He saw himself again sitting in a smoky lodge with a medicine man of the Wasnai, a tribe whose reservation bordered on his family's homestead lands.

The shaman was giving him directions so that Zack could find the valley of the heron, the home of a secretive tribe called the Elxa. The shaman had drawn that same sign in the dust at their feet. And he had told the white man that when he saw it, Zack would know he was getting close to the Elxa's lands.

Even as Zack relived that encounter, he continued eyeing Mayati, whose native garb left little to the imagination. It bared a desirable, lean and muscular, coppery-skinned body to any with eyes to admire. With a little start of surprise, Zack realized Mayati was sizing him up as well with sharp, inky black eyes. They reflected the firelight like polished bits of obsidian.

Zack knew the look well. It was the same unique way certain men had used to look at him with in the past, men who liked the same things Zack did. Evidently, what the Wasnai shaman had told Zack about the Elxa was true, that they were a tribe of man-loving men, sharing the same natures as Zack. The blonde man felt the sweet flame of desire ignite somewhere low in his belly and he enjoyed the familiar, pleasurable sensation, letting it build slowly as he smiled at Mayati.

"Come," the native smiled back.

As Mayati spoke, he turned and led the short way back to his camp. Zack followed, carrying his possessions, unable not to notice the supple flexing way Mayati's thighs and his taut, rounded buttocks moved as he walked. Zack tried to sound nonchalant as he set his gear down, plucked the cigarette from his mouth and flicked ash into the campfire. Smoke flowed out of his mouth along with his question.

"Are you travelin' too?"

"Yes. I am returning to my people."

"Oh? What tribe do you belong to?" Zack asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"The Elxa."

"Really? I'm seekin' them too."

"Why?" Mayati asked as he squatted beside the fire.

"That's... a long story."

Suddenly nervous, Zack took another pull on his cigarette and sat down on a convenient log. His mind was momentarily overwhelmed by the memories of the uncanny things that had recently happened to him, things inexplicable to the white culture he had been raised in, causing him to turn to his native friends among the Wasnai for help. They had suggested he visit the Elxa, a tribe reputedly wise in the ways of supernatural phenomena. With an effort, Zack shook off his troubled thoughts, afraid Mayati would notice and ask more questions.

Mayati however seemed intent on turning a pair of forked spits that angled out over the fire. Each transfixed the open carcasses of two fair-sized rabbits. The delicious aroma they exhaled reminded Zack that it had been awhile since he had last eaten. Mayati noticed the white man's hungry stare and nodded at the food.

"There is enough for two, I think."

"I have venison jerky and preserved salmon, too," Zack volunteered quickly, relieved that Mayati had not persisted in asking why he was searching for the Elxa. It was a dark and frightening subject, one he preferred not to think about too much.

"I would like to try some of the salmon."

Zack dug into his pack and handed Mayati one of the small, carefully wrapped cakes he carried, about the size of a bar of soap. Mayati peeled the covering of finely woven grass away from it and took a bite of the dense contents, air-dried salmon fillets that had been pounded into a hard paste and molded into easily-carried bricks. When prepared and wrapped correctly, this high-protein food would last for months without spoiling. Mayati chewed deliberately and nodded his head as he swallowed.

"It is very good. This was made by the Wasnai."

"Why, yes," Zack said, his eyes widening. "How'd you know?"

"The weave of the covering is unique. It could only be their work. Have you come from their lands?"

"Yes. My father's homestead borders on their reservation."

"Ah. Near the town of Oak Hill?"

"Yes. You know it?"

"I have gone up the Willamette to trade with and visit the Wasnai and the other tribes who dwell along that river many times, and I have seen Oak Hill. Did you happen to come through the town of False Pass on your way here?"

"No," Zack said, flicking ash again. He had taken care to avoid inhabited places on his journey, but did not want to have to explain why to Mayati. "I canoed as far as Staley Creek, hiked over the watershed to the Umpqua, and then followed it to a great carved rock below a small lake."

"The talking stone, yes."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Yes, because the carvings on it tell many stories."

Zack took a final puff on the cigarette and tossed the discolored butt into the fire.

"What do you call the lake I saw?" he asked, exhaling one last cloud of bluish smoke.

"It is called Lemolo. If you had gone further upstream, you would have encountered another, larger lake, which we call 'the great lake of diamond waters'," Mayati explained. Then he cocked his head and smiled wryly as he went on. "It is too bad you did not get a chance to visit False Pass. There are many heron men there."

Zack had taken off his hat and had been running his fingers through his damp hair as Mayati spoke. But the last sentence gave the white man pause and he stopped in mild surprise. He had heard the term 'heron men' before, from obscure native myths and whispered conversations.

As he learned more of those legendary tales, Zack came to sense he had much in common with the heron men, but doubted that they existed. Even less had he imagined that they and the Elxa might be one and the same. But Mayati's casual words had shed new illumination on the strange stories Zack had heard.

At that moment, with the peculiar irony of hindsight, the clues Zack had ignored were abruptly recognized. The Elxa's home was called the valley of the heron. The sign of their tribe was a stylized heron's head.

A part of Zack had always wondered if somehow, somewhere, other men like him had gathered together to live apart from the world that so despised and shunned them. It seemed as if the Elxa embodied that ideal, a tribe of man-loving men existing just as Zack had imagined in their wilderness refuge. Zack looked up suddenly at his companion.

"I... didn't know that," he blinked.

"That is not surprising. The men who live in that town like to... what is the English expression? Oh yes, 'keep a low profile'." Mayati chuckled to himself after saying that. Then he went on, after he noted Zack's questioning look. "I suppose I need not add that we who live in the valley of the heron value our privacy just as much."

"I can understand that. Especially if the stories I've hear about the heron men are true."

"Yes," Mayati said with sadness, "the white authorities in most places, and some of the remaining native tribes for that matter, whose ways have been influenced by contact with the whites are not... " his voice trailed off, but Mayati shook off his distraction and quickly went on "At any rate, I am sure you know how most of them feel about men like us."

Zack blinked.

"How'd you know I was like you?"

Zack fell silent as Mayati moved. He watched as Mayati reached out slowly to touch the back of Zack's hand. His fingertips stirred the pale hairs that grew there gently, deliberately and sensuously.

"Your eyes spoke to me, Zack," Mayati murmured.

"You... you said 'in most places'," breathed Zack, watching the dark fingers as they explored, moving across his wrist and the worn cuff of his shirt, and leaving a thrill of goosebumps in their wake. "Is False Pass different?"

"Yes. The men who run the town are all of our nature. Most of them are heron men, though they choose to live closer to the ways of their white brethren. Their sheriff is one of the elders of our tribe, a chief, if you will."

"Really?"

Mayati nodded affirmatively and Zack went on.

"I've heard of white men who've been allowed to join tribes and live like the Indians, but I didn't expect to find any in the Elxa tribe."

"The Elxa have had white members as long as white men have been coming into contact with us. Later, if you like, I could tell you the story of the first white man who joined our tribe."

"Was he one of Columbus' crew?" Zack chuckled jokingly.

"No, it was before that," Mayati said matter-of-factly.

"Before? Wasn't Columbus the first?"

"No. The stories of our predecessors tell us that long before Columbus 'discovered' us, we traded with white men who lived on islands far to the north, where, it is said, the snows and ice of winter never melt. Some of them were of our nature, and joined us."

Zack frowned to himself. He had a vague recollection of reading a book about an old seafaring race of barbarians from the north of Europe who went wherever their ships could take them in search of trade or plunder. But the memory was hazy. Mayati went on.

"The spirits who favor our tribe look for and guide men who share our nature to us, for there have always been such men, who yearn and seek for others who understand the desires men like us feel." Mayati paused for the space of a few heartbeats. "The way of men like us is old, very old, but there are few besides the Elxa who record our history. One of our brothers sang of it this way:"

Did not men's hands, in ancient times, caress their brothers gently?

Did not men's lips, long, long ago, salute their lovers on sight?

Yes, they touched! Yes, they kissed! Yes, they existed!

I see them: Men living in caves discarding scraps of fur,

Later men disrobing, tossing aside loincloths, tunics, togas,

All making themselves anciently naked when the man they loved drew near.

Making love man-to-man, lying together upon beds of all descriptions...

Bare skins touching, voices whispering, lips smiling...

Rediscovering the old ecstasy, the power, the joy in the joining of masculine to masculine...

O fleeting joy! That love which binds brother to brother...

Crying out, aloud or softly, their cocks ready, rigid and spurting...

In male lover's hand, or mouth, or ass...

From the dawn of time to today and on...

Tomorrow and tomorrow for all time for as long as men exist...

"Wow! Your friend wrote that?"

"The heart of our brother Big Otter is full of song, and it is our way to sing when our hearts are moved, my friend."

"I liked it," Zack affirmed, curious to learn more about the poet, but when Mayati spoke again, he changed the subject.

"It must have taken you several days to come this far."

"Yes, it did," Zack said, stretching his sore back. "Is the valley of the heron close?"

"You are in it now," Mayati chuckled as he turned away briefly to check on the rabbits again. "The lands of the Elxa extend from the mountains to the great lake of diamond waters, and south to the great caldera. To the north of here is a vast wilderness we leave to the animals whose meat and skins sustain us. Sometimes our brother tribesmen will go there to seek visions."

"I see," Zack replied, stretching again. "Would you mind if I asked how you learned English?"

"Not at all. When I was young, I was sent to a missionary school. They taught me the white language, but when they tried to teach me my spirit was bad for feeling desire for other men, I ran away. Eventually, I heard the stories about the heron men and sought for them. Good spirits spoke to me in medicine dreams, led me to the Elxa, and they welcomed me into their fellowship. Because the Elxa have white brothers, English is like a second language among us."

"So... you weren't born into the Elxa?"

Mayati's eyes grew large with surprise and mirth at that. "O innocent one!" he laughed. "The Elxa are a tribe of men who love men, my brother! All here have come from other tribes, seeking to live in freedom, to be true to their own special, inner natures, in companionship with their spirit brothers, men who have the same desires as they do!"

The men sat in silence for a bit, looking at each other. Mayati glanced aside again to attend to the rabbits. Then he turned back to Zack and spoke quietly.

"Do you find me handsome?"

"Yes, Mayati, I do," Zack confessed, lifting one shoulder to try and stretch the ache out of it.

"Are you alright, Zack?" asked Mayati. The concern in his voice was audible.

"It's just my back. I'm stiff from walkin' all day, that's all."

"If you would like, I could give you a massage."

Zack looked into Mayati's eyes. Something unspoken passed between them and they smiled at each other. Zack stood up.

"I'd like that, Mayati, a lot. But first I ought to go back to that stream and wash some of this sweat and traildust off of me."

"There is a deep spot over there," Mayati indicated.

Zack thanked the heron man and went to wash up. He soon found the hole in the stream Mayati had mentioned, deep enough for a tall man to dunk himself completely. Zack stripped and started to get in.

He had just seated himself on the edge of the hole, enjoying the sensation of cool water wrapping itself deliciously around his trail weary feet as he dipped them in, when the man became aware of an odd stiffness in his side. Zack reached to feel it, looking as well. His lips curled in disgust when he discovered a small patch of dried blood that matted the body hair growing there.

Unbidden, flashes of an alien memory played in Zack's mind, as though he were seeing through the eyes of something else. Of a being large and dangerous, moving silently through the forest, hunting with a mindless ferocity, a desperate fury, seeking something, anything, to kill. A beast that hungered, but not just for food. It was animated by a devilish desire to destroy life, any life it could find.

The nightmarish creature scented, stalked and caught a deer. It outran the hapless animal easily, and its claws and teeth rent the deer with an appalling, unnatural ease, a terrifying strength that no normal beast possessed. Then Zack recalled with his own memories how he had awakened in the camp beside the talking stone to find his nude body smeared with dried blood.

It was not his blood, but that of the deer. Zack had wept tears of rage and shame as he immediately went and jumped into the cold waters of the Umpqua. There, he had scrubbed the vile uncleanliness off himself furiously, wishing he could remove the source of his anxiety as easily.

He became alarmed and angry again as he saw the missed spot. It was a gory reminder of why he was seeking the Elxa, in the hope that they could help him. He tried to put the horrific curse he labored under out of his mind as he splashed and rubbed, eliminating the bloody spot.

The big man consoled himself with the thought that the curse would not come back to bother him again for awhile, for a month at least. So Zack did not have to worry about harming Mayati. Ah, Mayati...

Zack drove the curse from his thoughts by concentrating instead on mental images of Mayati's taut and tawny handsomeness as he washed. Despite the cold water, his cock swelled with anticipation as he touched himself, imagining Mayati's touches. And the gentle touches he could and would give the native in return...

When he returned to the clearing, wearing only his boots and pants, Zack saw that Mayati had been busy, rearranging his blankets by the fire so that they made a soft, inviting pad to lie upon. The heron man stared at the expanse of fair fur that grew on Zack's upper body in a sort of awed wonder. As Mayati did so, he murmured something the white man could not understand.

"What did you say? 'So ratty'?"

"No, no!" laughed Mayati.

"I hope not. I like to think I look pretty good!"

"You are as handsome as the sun at noontime, my friend!"

"Um... " blushed Zack, unprepared for the compliment. "What did you say before?"

"Zoraxte," Mayati said clearly, smiling as Zack sat. "He is the totem of our sacred mountain." As the heron man said that, he pointed to the sharp peaked mountain Zack had noted earlier. "It is said that when Zoraxte manifests himself in human form, he is covered in black hair, like the gigantic bear he also appears as from time to time. You reminded me of the myth."

"Oh. Well, you're not the first person who's compared me to a bear," Zack muttered, forcing a smile as he fluffed up the fur on his chest distractedly. Mayati's reference to bears had made Zack uneasy and he tried hard not to show it as he went on. "So, Zoraxte is sacred to the Elxa tribe?"

"Yes," Mayati said after a few moments of hesitation. He seemed almost hypnotized by watching the motion of Zack's fingers moving through the thick mat of blonde chest hair, stirring it. "He is one of my people's protectors."

"So there are other gods the Elxa honor?"

"There are many spirits whom we believe live in the valley of the heron with us," Mayati began. "Besides Zoraxte, three others are considered to be of the first importance. There is the masculine spirit whom we believe now dwells in the great lake of diamond waters, the Heron Spirit, who appears as a great blue heron and is the lover of Zoraxte.

"He is the premier totem of our tribe, the one who has been with us since the beginning, so long ago none remember it. Though we have many legends about the Heron Spirit, none tell of the beginning, how he found our spiritual ancestors and guided them into the path of wisdom we call the Way of the Heron. When the Elxa made their home here, the Heron Spirit met and fell in love with Zoraxte.

"Their love created a strong son, a spirit of the deep forests, the Green God. There are some among the Elxa who say they have encountered the Green God, in reality as well as in medicine dreams, and have made love with him. Those who say they have received his divine seed are gifted with powerful visions."

"But, those spirits, Zoraxte and the Heron Spirit, you said they were males. How could they have children?"

"Spirits are not bound by the same laws that men are," Mayati smiled.

"Have you seen him? The Green God?"

"No, I have not been so fortunate. But I believe the tales that are told of him."

"Who is the third god?"

"The Spirit-Wolf. He appears as a wolf with red-brown fur, and eyes that burn and shine like red-hot coals. This powerful one wanders the valley of the heron. He thinks and reasons like a man. Though he cannot speak, he can write if he needs to communicate, by scratching his words on the ground.

"He is a new godling who appeared only recently, but our tribal elders tell us his heart is good for the Elxa and that he has come to protect us and our valley. For this reason you must not shoot at any wolves you see on our land. Though if you encounter the Spirit-Wolf, you will know at once that he is no ordinary animal."

"You've seen it?" Zack asked, scarcely able to believe what Mayati was telling him.

"Yes, many times. And many of my fellow tribesmen have also. Believe me, my new friend, the Spirit-Wolf is as real as you or I." Mayati concluded as he motioned casually towards the fully cooked rabbits. "Let us eat now."

Zack smiled as they pulled out their knives, the versatile utensils most men of that time carried everywhere at their sides, and began cutting up the steaming meat. The pair made short work of the rabbits, tossing the cleaned bones into the fire. Afterwards they went to the stream together to drink and rinse out their mouths. On the way back through the swiftly darkening forest, Mayati could not resist touching Zack's bare back lightly, stirring the hairs that grew there and remarking in a distracted-sounding murmur.

"You are almost as hairy in back as you are in the front!"

'Flattery will get you anywhere, my new friend,' Zack thought wryly as they reached their camp, his smile hidden by the evening gloom, but instead he said: "You probably haven't seen many men as hairy as me."

"Our brother, Big Otter, is nearly as hairy as you."

"The poet? Is he a white man?"

"Yes," nodded the heron man. "and there is another, Lone Wolf, whose pelt rivals that of the animal he is named for. No doubt you will meet him before too long, if he does not seek you out first. He is strongly attracted to blonde-haired men like yourself."

"How would he know I was here?" puzzled Zack. "This is a big valley, and I doubt you have telegraphs to spread the word!"

Mayati smiled. "You are right, Zack, but we do have a system that keeps our brotherhood informed of all that goes on here in the valley of the heron. I am sure, once your presence here in our homeland becomes known, that many tongues will spread the report of your beauty, until everyone knows of it."

As Mayati murmured those comments, Zack wondered briefly at the heron man's words. Then, realizing Mayati was waiting for him, he stretched out, belly-down, on the blankets next to the campfire. Mayati straddled Zack, kneeling with his full crotch pushing suggestively against the prone man's butt, and began to stoke the expanse of warm, hairy manflesh lying before him.

At first, Mayati's hands were gentle as he explored the contours of Zack's back, sending tingles of pure pleasure pulsing through the man's tired body. Soon, Zack's cock swelled and began to dig into the blankets beneath him. Zack was glad he'd had the foresight to arraign his basket beforehand, so that he did not have to squirm around to do it then and throw Mayati off his rhythm.

But then, gradually, the strokes became harder and penetrated deeper as they progressed from the neck to the shoulders and then down the back. Mayati's thumbs worked in tandem on the knotted spots they discovered, pressing in relentlessly. Zack moaned and yelped as the pain trapped in his fatigued muscles was released and his dick deflated, but Mayati did not ease up.

"Damn, Mayati, that really smarts!"

"But you need this badly, my tense friend, I can tell. You need to relax. Does it not feel good to release this tension?"

"Yeah," Zack admitted, gasping around the delicious agony as another spot of stiffness was crushed out of existence, "it does... "

Eventually, Mayati found and worked over all the sore spots. His touch lightened again, becoming more sensuous. And again, Zack's cock began to push at its restraints.

Abruptly, Zack felt his boots being tugged off, one after the other. Mayati's hands pushed around under Zack's waist and he raised up so Mayati could undo the belt that held up his jeans and pull them off. The cool air caressed his naked body, almost as sensuously as the heron man's hands had. When Mayati knelt back down to rub Zack's ass and legs, the feel of his naked knee planted between Zack's thighs and nudging his fuzzy ballsac was enough to elicit a deep sigh from Zack.

Mayati's touches were very relaxing as he slowly kneaded the muscles in Zack's arms and tired legs. Zack did not want to go to sleep, but he felt the effects of the relaxing massage and a full belly ganging up on him. He heard Mayati say something, so softly he did not catch it.

"What did you say?" yawned Zack.

"May I sleep with you?"

"Yes!" Zack perked up at once when he heard the request. "I'd like that, a lot. My blankets... "

"Do not move. I will get them."

The absence of Mayati's touch was an inner ache Zack felt keenly as the heron man rose and left to retrieve Zack's sleeping roll from his pack. Zack turned his head towards the fire when he felt his blankets floating down to cover him. Mayati's eyes locked with Zack's as the native undid the cord around his hips that held his simple garment on and let the scrap of tanned skin drop to the ground.

Mayati's cock hung pendulously, in that unique way a half-hard cock hangs. He touched himself in relief, relishing the feeling of the cool night breeze caressing his unbound genitals. Then he knelt and slid under the covers, into Zack's open, eager, furry arms. They hugged, feeling the thrilling, sensuous heat of their naked bodies being pressed against one another.

"You are beautiful... so beautiful... " Mayati murmured into Zack's ear, a hot whisper. Then, unexpectedly, he began to chant, softly.

Out of the west, out of the setting sun, you came to me like a dream of shining glory...

glowing with beauty, radiating with love...

hair like gold, eyes like amber...

like an old myth come true:

When the sun wished to visit the earth, he left his place in the sky and became a golden man!

"What was that?" whispered Zack.

"It was a song for you, my friend."

As he said that, Mayati smiled and snuggled closer. He stoked the thick fur growing on Zack's chest lovingly, his fingertips on a sensuous quest for the quarter-sized, rose-colored nipples hidden within the pale, silky pelt. Zack inhaled sharply as Mayati found one and tugged at it gently.

"You made that up for me?" he managed.

"Yes. You inspired me to sing. As I told you earlier, it is a special gift among the heron men, to speak from the heart when the heart is moved, as you have moved me. Perhaps you will sing to me, sometime... "

"I... I'm not sure I can... I've never tried to compose poetry."

"Shhhh my new brother, listen quietly to your soul and it will give you beautiful words... "

"But how do I do that?"

"Sleep now," Mayati breathed, kissing Zack's forehead.

Zack moved to meet the heron man's lips with his own. They were soft, warm and full. Their tongues touched for an instant, shocking new tastes racing to join the other sensations that prickled Zack's body.

"You sure?" asked Zack.

"You need rest, my brother. Later, when you are stronger, we can explore the feelings we inspire in each other."

Zack gave in to the fatigue, letting his sexual desires slip away. He expected doing that to feel uncomfortable, but as Mayati held him warmly, a sense of peace came to overarch his consciousness and he relaxed completely. Sleep claimed him quickly.

"Zack Weir," came a voice from the darkness.

"Yes?" Zack responded at once, wondering why he was awake.

"Why do you seek the Elxa? Why are you here?"

As Zack considered the questions, it dawned on him that he was no longer in the forest clearing, lying snug in Mayati's arms. He looked around himself in amazement, taking in his new, unfamiliar surroundings. He was sitting crosslegged on dry sand before a small fire, the light from which illuminated a fantastic view.

All around the nonplussed man were uneven walls of dark gray rock, riven here and there by jagged black openings, leading he knew not where. Zack looked up and saw he was in a roughly hemispherical chamber. The air was damp and rich with earthy smells, suggesting to him that he was probably deep underground.

The rock walls were covered with strange, multicolored drawings, daubed onto the rough stone. They were native pictoglyphs, stylistically like many Zack had seen among the Wasnai, carved into stones or painted on animal skins. The difference was that some of these symbols actually seemed to be moving before Zack's amazed eyes.

Across the uneven stone the animated images writhed, stretching and contracting against all reason and logic. One in particular caught Zack's attention at once: a bearlike image drawn in white against a yellow sun disk. It was running, moving its four legs in an ungainly, shuffling rhythm, but stayed where it was, surrounded and silhouetted by the bright, round sun image painted behind it.

"Where am I?" Zack spoke into the semidark of the painted chamber.

"Do not be afraid, my son," the voice responded, just before its owner, a man, stepped into the light of the fire.

"I'm not."

"That is good. A fearful man cannot be taught, and you are here to learn."

Zack studied the breechclout-clad figure. He was another native, older than Mayati, but he wore his years in an odd sort of timeless way. He might have been fifty or five hundred years old, it was hard to tell.

"Who are you?" Zack asked.

"I am the guardian of the cave of mysteries," intoned the elder as he moved to sit opposite Zack, with the fire between them. "Why are you here?" he repeated.

"That's a long story," sighed Zack. "But the short version is: I was told that there's a medicine man who lives with the Elxa, named Falling Star, who may be able to help me."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The medicine man of the Wasnai advised me to seek this wise one, who knows much about the unseen forces that most men do not even realize exist. I was told he lives in a sacred cave, somewhere in the foothills of the great mountain that the natives call Zoraxte."

"What he told you is true."

Zack paused as a sudden thought struck him. "Is the cave of mysteries the home of Falling Star? Is that where I am now?"

"Yes."

"Are you Falling Star?"

"No."

Zack felt strange as he tried to comprehend how he had gotten where he was. Was he dreaming? But everything around him seemed so real.

What was he doing there, he wondered, talking to this stranger about the unnatural problem that plagued him, the one that had driven him from his family and friends, and for which he sought a cure? The guardian seemed to sense Zack's discomfort. He lifted a hand gravely in the flickering firelight and spoke.

"Do not distress yourself by speaking further of that which troubles you, my son. I already know why you are here."

"How... " Zack exclaimed as startled thoughts spilled across his mental landscape like a sudden avalanche. Overriding that internal chaos was the fear of exposure, the horror of all the world learning his awful secret.

"If you will accept it," the guardian went on in a soothing voice that attempted to calm the white man, "there are many spirit helpers who are friendly to the Elxa, invisible beings who range throughout the valley of the heron and far beyond. They bring their mortal brethren news of any happenings that may affect the Elxa. So it was that they noticed you and spoke to my brother, Falling Star, of the burden you carry and your plan to journey here to find him. Look, he has drawn the vision the spirits gave him." The guardian indicated the animated image that had so fascinated Zack earlier, of the running bear. "The totems who protect and guide the man-loving men who live here in the valley of the heron have given you a new name: Sun Bear."

Zack stiffened at those words. "Why... why a bear?"

"As I said, I know why you are here. And here, among the heron men, you will find the peace you crave."

"But I didn't come to join you, I came to find a cure for the curse I live with... "

"You are not cursed, Sun Bear, you are what you are, a man whose heart and spirit are good, and your brothers among the Elxa will welcome you and celebrate your uniqueness."

"You don't understand. I can't control the curse, what it does to me... " Zack's voice faltered. "I'm... I'm dangerous... "

The gravely visaged guardian made an impatient gesture with his hand, silencing Zack.

"Go to Falling Star. He will ease your troubled mind. And, one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Mayati is not the only Elxa tribesman who will look upon you with desire, my son. It may be hard for you to comprehend our ways at first, Sun Bear, but you must believe me when I tell you that you will not hurt Mayati's feelings if you choose to make love with other heron men. Why that is, I cannot tell you now, but you will understand once you have lived with the Elxa for awhile and learned our tribe's ways."

"All... alright," Zack replied uncertainly. He had no plans to remain in the valley of the heron for as long as this mysterious native seemed to assume.

"I shall give you something which will help you in your quest."

As the guardian of the cave of mysteries spoke, Zack's eyes widened at the wondrous thing he saw next. A great pair of shimmering, iridescent wings - he could think of no other word to describe what he witnessed - unfurled gracefully from the back of the man who sat opposite him. The softly glittering pinions curled around and enveloped Zack, and he felt a curious, but pleasant warmth playing up and down his spine as the wings stroked his back.

As the warmth grew, Zack was soon aware that he was growing wings also, similar in appearance to the guardian's. In a short time, he was looking at his fully grown, faintly glowing appendages in astonishment. The native spoke again.

"These are your spirit wings. All men of our nature can have them, but only wise ones like the heron men know how to bring them forth. When you make love with another heron man, your spirit wings will mesh with his and you both shall have heightened pleasures as well as the ability to concentrate and direct the potent energies your lovemaking generates. After you see Falling Star and let him help you, he will teach you more about your spirit wings and how to use them."

Zack nodded, but said nothing as the guardian of the cave of mysteries reached for something lying on the floor of the cave and offered it to Zack. The white man took the object without looking at it and the elder smiled at him. It seemed almost like a blessing of some sort.

"Go in peace, my new brother," he murmured as the scene around Zack faded into inky blackness.

Zack opened his eyes. Above him, a billion stars flashed and sparkled in the ebony sky, looking as if one could just reach up and touch them. The Milky Way was a silvery river bisecting eternity. Mayati was pressed against Zack's side, breathing lightly and regularly in peaceful sleep.

The big man became aware of something clutched in his right hand. It was hard and smooth. Unable to see what it was in the darkness, Zack carefully placed the object on a corner of the blanket close to his head without thinking too much about it. The slight movement roused his bedmate.

Mayati ground his groin into Zack's hairy thigh. His cock was rapidly hardening and a warm wetness spread from the tip, lubing the spot it rubbed. Zack carefully reached down and, sliding back the foreskin deftly, ran a thumb and forefinger over the heron man's wet cockhead, eliciting a deep sigh from its owner.

His fingertips were covered at once with a gout of the same slick wetness. Zack brought them up to his lips and sucked the dickslime off. The salty-sweet tang of a man's precum smote his tastebuds, causing his own cock to lurch and rise. Mayati sensed it and ran his fingers over Zack's hot, hooded tool, marveling at its length.

"Roll over," he whispered.

Zack did as he was asked. Mayati knelt between his wide-spread legs and carefully traced the hairy buttcrack with slightly trembling fingers. He slowly moved one thumb deeper inside the cleft. Zack began to moan softly in anticipation.

Encouraged by what he heard, Mayati lowered his head. First, Zack felt his new friend's nose in the crack, then something else. Something soft, but strong, warm and wet.

He clawed at the blankets, gathering two fistfuls of woolen material in a passionate agony as the tip of Mayati's tongue circled his anus, then let the full width of the oral muscle lap across the pulsing pucker. Zack gasped as it happened again. Zack was not inexperienced when it came to sex with other men, but he had met few who were willing or able to do what Mayati was doing to him just then.

The determined tongue gave Zack's asshole a series of light, tantalizing strokes, before the tip planted itself in the center of Zack's rosebud and pushed. Zack pushed back and it slipped through the bull's-eye. Zack could feel the heron man's saliva falling like thick rain from his mouth into the ring of muscle, welling up and running down the fur-lined crack to the underside of his ballsac.

"Oh, yeah, buddy," he groaned in mounting passion, "get it good and wet... get me ready for that big ol' pecker of yours... Jeez, that feels good... I want you in me, heron man!"

"I want you in that way too, Zack," came the whispered reply. Zack could almost hear the rampant desire in Mayati's voice. "Wait a moment."

Mayati arose and quickly took something from his pack of supplies. When he returned, Zack felt the native's fingers probe his rear. They were coated with something wonderfully slick and slippery, that also caused Zack's tender flesh to tingle as Mayati deftly lubed his manhole and the inner parts beyond it.

"Ohhh... that feels... strange... " Zack moaned.

"This salve is good for wounds, my friend, but we also use it like this, to make the way easy between lovers," Mayati explained as he stroked more of the lube onto his stiff sex.

"Take me... take me now... " begged Zack. "Let me feel your strength inside me!"

Mayati was more than ready and moved as soon as he heard Zack's strangled request. Zack felt the native repositioning himself behind and above him. A blunt, heated hardness abruptly pressed into his wet behind and Zack pushed back, feeling once more the delicious sensation of being filled up with rampant masculinity as Mayati's ample cock slipped easily into the white man's ass.

His bedmate's balls came to rest against Zack's own and he grabbed ahold of Mayati's cock with his rectal muscles as hard as he could. The native gasped and struggled to withdraw, both loving every moment. As Mayati slid back in, Zack relaxed his ass and let his friend find a comfortable fuck rhythm.

"Oh, Zack," Mayati hissed over the man's hairy shoulder as he hunched, driving forcefully into his companion's ass. "You are beautiful... so beautiful... I cannot hold back my desire for you!"

"Then don't... take me... take me hard... with everything you've got, Mayati... " Zack responded, yielding himself completely to the handsome heron man's unbridled passion.

Zack could feel the heron man's prick swelling up even more as his strokes became shorter, more determined. The head of Mayati's cock nudged Zack's prostate with each thrust, rasping across the firespot with an almost unbearable sweetness, driving Zack over the edge. Zack managed to direct a hand to his own dick just before he might have lost it in the blankets as Mayati nibbled his ear. Through the sensory static that all but numbed his senses as he came, Zack felt his palm filling with a thick warmth, his own jism.

The convulsions wracking his body also squeezed the heron man's member mercilessly, triggering Mayati's climax as well. The poundings of the native's heart as it drove his blood were no less powerful than the pulses of the groin muscles that shot load after scalding load of his seed deep into the white man's bowels. Zack felt the liquid hotness exploding within him and gripped Mayati's manhood inside him as long as it pulsated and jerked in orgasmic fury.

But eventually the involuntary spasms died away and Mayati's softened cock slipped free of the tight, hairy orifice that had gripped it like a tiger holding onto its prey. Zack slurped down the palmful of his own spooge he held before turning to hug Mayati chest to chest, feeling their slimy dicks sticking together where they were sandwiched between the men's bellies. They kissed, sharing the musky taste of Zack's cum until their lips and tongues were raw, before cuddling up to sleep again.

The morning seemed to come sooner than Zack expected. He opened his eyes to find the clearing already lit up. Moving carefully, he tried not to disturb Mayati as he arose, but failed. Zack yelped in sudden pain as some of his belly fur ripped away from where it had been plastered to his bedmate by errant gouts of dried cum.

"Zack?! Are you alright?" asked the startled heron man.

"Yes," he winced, rubbing the stiff, hard hairs around his bellybutton, feeling them crackle and wondering how many he had left stuck to Mayati. "I just need to get cleaned up."

Mayati's dark eyes sparkled in the morning sunlight. "May I join you?"

Zack felt a pulse of blood rush suddenly to his cock, making it plump up. "Of course," he replied.

They rose from their blankets and looked upon one another's nakedness for the first time, illuminated by the bright morning sunlight. Both men liked what they saw. Reluctantly, Zack turned away and bent over to rummage in his pack for a bar of soap. The heron man could not resist the urge to lower his face and kiss his friend's upturned, beautiful, hairy ass.

"What was that for?" chuckled Zack as he rose with a pale, faintly fragrant brick in his hand, wrapped in a scrap of cloth.

"For being you," The native said simply, before they kissed again, mouth to mouth. As the intimate touch ended, Mayati murmured, "Thank you for last night."

"You're entirely welcome," Zack grinned. Somehow, the heron man's words reminded Zack of the strange dream he had experienced. When they separated, he went back to the blankets and knelt. Mayati watched as he felt around in the rumpled fabric.

"What are you looking for?"

"Something I found last night... Ah! Here it is!"

Mayati's mouth was a perfect 'O' of surprise when he saw what Zack held up. It was a flat, water smoothed pebble, pierced and engraved, a twin to the one that hung around the heron man's neck. Zack noted his companion's amazement.

"What is it?"

"It is an Elxa glyphstone! How did you find it?"

Quickly, Zack recounted his dream and the conversation he had held with the guardian of the cave of mysteries. Mayati's wondering look deepened. When Zack finished, the heron man replied in an impressed tone.

"You have had a medicine dream, Zack! You must remember it and tell it to Falling Star when you see him."

"Did you recognize anything of what I saw?"

"Yes, but it is better if Falling Star interprets your vision for you." As Mayati demurred, he carefully, almost reverently, laid the glyphstone on a rock beside the firepit.

"But who is the guardian of the cave of mysteries?"

"He is not a man, but a spirit, one of many who befriend the Elxa," the heron man explained. "He took the form of one of our brothers so he could communicate with you more easily. Come, my friend, I know an even better place to wash than the spot I told you about last night."

Zack followed Mayati through the trees to the water. He resigned himself to waiting for his meeting with Falling Star before his many questions would be answered. In the morning sunlight, the stream rippled like liquid crystal across stones that shone sienna, green-gray and brick-red.

They went a little ways upstream, to a point where the small creek tumbled from a rugged cliff of pink granite about twenty feet high. Limpid liquid fell frothing into a pool a dozen or so feet in diameter, surrounded by ferns, that seemed to beckon to the approaching pair. The water in the pool came up to the men's balls as they waded in.

"Huh! The water isn't as cold as I thought it would be."

"There is a small hot spring further upstream, my brother. Its waters mix with this stream, keeping it comfortable."

Squeezing together under the stream of falling water, the men lathered each other lovingly with Zack's soap, leaving no parts of their bodies unexplored. Predictably, their cocks were soon fully erect again and as they gently stroked and examined one another with frothy hands, Mayati whispered a request in Zack's ear. He nodded and the heron man smiled before turning to face the wall of granite that stood behind the waterfall.

Propping himself against the mossy stone with his hands, Mayati presented his ass to Zack's soapy fingers. They slipped into and worked in the crack, poking and slickening the softly moaning man's hole until it was ready. Zack brought his cock to the bull's-eye and pressed into it slowly.

Mayati cooed and moaned and keened like a lost soul as the stiff tool slid in. When his pubes pressed against the heron man's ass, Zack reached around and gripped Mayati's rigid manhood in his soapy paw. Then they began to move together.

Mayati's fingers clawed at the thick layer of moss that clung to the moist stone, sending shreds of soft green to fall and float on the cool waters that lapped at the men's thrusting hips. Zack's bearded chin perched on Mayati's shoulder, nuzzling his neck as he fucked the man's ass and watching as he beat the man's cock. Soon it was spitting ropes of semen onto the wet moss, gleaming silvery-white against the dark, living green.

Releasing the spasming pecker, Zack gripped Mayati's hips and drove home his own load. The heron man gasped in undeniable pleasure as Zack rough-fucked him, blasting his innards with white hot nutjuice. When the pair separated, weak in the knees from their climaxes, they lay in the water for awhile, recovering their breath.

"I can't remember when takin' a bath was so much fun," Zack grinned at last, reaching over to rub Mayati's shoulder.

The heron man smiled and stood up to let the small waterfall flow over his head, through his hair and down his back and chest. He turned to face Zack and spoke. The water running over his face splashed outwards from his mouth and lips rhythmically as they moved.

"Thank you for the soap. I have not used any for some time. I was afraid I might be too rank for you... "

"You smelled good to me!" Zack protested, moving to sit on a rock at the edge of the pool.

"And you are very sweet," Mayati proclaimed, coming over to kiss the blonde man lovingly. Then he turned and, stepping out of the pool, started to climb around the obstruction that the waterfall tumbled over.

"Hey! Where're you goin'?"

"To get our breakfast," he smiled over his shoulder.

Zack rose and followed the heron man in curiosity. Above the waterfall, a small pond rippled and sparkled merrily in the morning sunlight. As Zack watched, Mayati waded in and lifted a fish trap out of the water.

It was a curiously woven, basketlike affair. Elegantly simple in design, the fish entered through an opening that was difficult for the animal to find again once it was inside. A pair of trout flopped helplessly about within the loose mesh of green whips as Mayati turned and retraced his steps to the lower pool.

The heron man placed the trap in a shallow spot of the lower pool, where the fish could await their fate. Then he and Zack went to lie down upon a relatively flat slab of granite, embedded in the ground nearby. The great rock looked as if it had flaked off the cliff face at some point in the distant past. As the pair relaxed, Mayati spoke again.

"Our brother, Big Otter, taught me another song that I think you would like, my friend. It describes our life here in the valley of the heron."

"I'd like to hear it," answered Zack.

Mayati spoke softly, his voice lilting above the gentle splashing of the nearby waterfall.

For us, the winds do blow, the earth doth rest, heaven move and fountains flow...

Nothing we see but means our good, as our delight, or as our treasure...

The whole is either our cupboard of food, or cabinet of pleasure at our desire...

"Huh!" Zack looked impressed as his breath escaped. "Did Big Otter write that too?"

"No. He knows the words of many white poets, some of whose verses describe the heron men, though they never knew of us, except perhaps in their hearts."

"He sounds highly educated."

"Before he followed his heart and found the Elxa, he studied much in the white men's great universities, far away in the country called England and later in the eastern United States."

"I hope I get to meet him. He sounds like an interestin' fellow."

Once the wind had dried them off somewhat, the men moved to return to their camp. But then something distracted Mayati. Zack watched as his companion went to a spot a few steps from where they had been resting and knelt.

The heron man was examining a clump of wildflowers that looked to Zack like a variety he had heard called 'ragged robin'. They were small blossoms with five sharp-pointed petals forming perfect stars, each perched on its own slender stalk. About half of them were white and half were purple. As Mayati rose, his investigation apparently over, Zack spoke.

"What is it?"

"Starflowers," he answered simply. Then Mayati paused and looked at Zack contritely. "Oh, but you would not know about them."

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

"The starflower is a plant sacred to the Elxa," he explained. "It can bloom in several different colors and, from the color, one can tell what sort of medicine its roots hold. These," Mayati said, indicating the clump he had just inspected, "the white and purple, are the most common kinds, and they hold no medicine. But they are often used as decorations in tribal ceremonies."

"So, you were hopin' to find one of the rarer ones?"

"Yes," the heron man responded as he went back to the pool.

Zack wondered what other colors of starflower there were, and what they were good for. But Mayati seemed inclined to let the matter drop as he retrieved the fish trap and led the way back to their camp. Once they got there, Zack looked around halfheartedly for his clothes, not really feeling like putting them on.

The heron man's nakedness was a gift freely given, an unusual treat for the white man's eyes. In his hometown, the occasional swimming hole frolics with his brothers and boyhood friends were the only times Zack got to see other naked males. And Zack was sure Mayati liked what he saw when he looked at Zack. So he was glad when he saw Mayati made no move to cover himself, and stopped worrying about it. Finding a flat rock to work on, Zack took it upon himself to begin cleaning the fish.

In the meantime, the heron man was busily rummaging about in his own pack of supplies. Pulling something out of it, he turned and picked up the glyphstone Zack had received through his dreams. Zack looked up from his filleting and saw the native was threading a rawhide cord through the hole in the stone.

"Here," Mayati smiled, knotting the cord and slipping the loop over Zack's head.

"Thanks," Zack acknowledged as he pushed his long beard aside so he could look down at the dark stone. It was nestled in the pale fur of his chest, between his dark pink nipples. The water-smoothed pebble was carved with the same curling glyph that Mayati's pendant bore. "Does this mean I'm part of the tribe now?"

Mayati cocked his head. "You are Elxa, my friend. You just did not know it until now. The spirits who guide and protect our tribe have judged you worthy and have spoken by giving you the sign of our brotherhood and a tribal name."

Zack looked back down at the stone and wondered. He thought about the curse again, and shuddered. He knew evil spirits existed and hoped the Elxa could produce some good ones to help him. But still, the rational, hardheaded American of New England extraction in him could not help but persist in thinking that he had merely had an odd dream, and quite coincidentally, come across an Elxa glyphstone some tribesman had lost.

"Well," began Mayati, looking up at the brightening sky, "if you like, I could guide you to Roman Rock."

"Where?"

"It is the main Elxa encampment."

"That's an odd name for an Indian town."

"I could tell you the legend of how it was named as we travel, if you wish."

"Oh. Yes. I'd like that. A lot."

Mayati sensed Zack's uncertainty and smiled, guessing its source.

"Shall we sit and have some breakfast first? There is no reason to hurry away. Or even to put on our clothes."

"You're not uncomfortable? Going naked, I mean."

"Of course not. The heron elders know many ways that men can make love together. We are making love now."

"We are?"

"Yes, with our eyes." Mayati paused, then he took a breath and began to chant softly.

I see the way You look at me And I feel good...

You touch me With your eyes Full of love...

Caressing without touching Letting the sunlight Carry our desire...

It is a beautiful And tender Communion of souls...

"I find you very pleasant to look upon, my brother," Mayati added, after his song ended.

"Yes... I mean, you are too," Zack blushed.

Mayati laughed easily and, turning to his pack, pulled a small iron griddle out of it. He sat beside the campfire and positioned the flat square of black metal carefully, resting it on the rocks that lined the firepit. Then he produced a small leather pouch of lard to oil the griddle.

Zack suddenly remembered the fish. He went back to work preparing them, handing the fillets to Mayati as he finished. As soon as they began to sizzle, the heron man looked sideways at Zack and chuckled again.

"It would seem to be a little late for blushing now, my new friend, especially after the way you rode my ass not so very long ago!"

Later that same day, the men were following a forest track that Mayati said would lead them to Roman Rock. The trail was wonderfully springy underfoot. It was moist and black and deeply cushioned by many seasons' worth of fallen evergreen needles.

Once, a yearling deer crossed their path, its coat clean and bright tan. The animal paused to look at the travelers without fear in its huge liquid eyes before slipping away into the surrounding woods to almost magically disappear. Zack imagined the Elxa's spirit helpers coming and going in much the same fashion.

"So," Zack asked Mayati, who had been telling him about the native town they were headed for, "you believe the heron men's main settlement, Roman Rock, was founded by a real Roman?"

"So our legends say. It was before my birth, of course, when the Elxa were led to this valley by their protector, an ancient white man, whose tribal name was Hunts-by-night... "

Zack's brow furrowed in thought at that. He was sure he had heard that name before. It occurred in some strange legends the Wasnai told, about a deathless demon in human form who was a fierce protector of men who loved men. Zack had remembered the stories because they made him glad to think that not everyone disapproved of the way he and the few others he knew who were like him expressed their love.

"...it was claimed that he was over a thousand years old," Mayati went on, not noticing Zack's distraction.

"When exactly was that? When the Elxa came here, that is."

"By the white man's calendar, it was in 1832."

"And what happened to the old Roman?"

"Ah. That is another story. Hunts-by-night was a lover of men, even as we and the rest of the Elxa are. He had lost his lover, another immortal, centuries ago, and in the course of his worldwide quest to find him again, encountered our tribe and stayed to become our protector. But about the time Hunts-by-night led the Elxa to the valley of the heron, he unexpectedly learned that his lover had been seen across the sea, in the far-off land of China. So he left to search for him, promising to return someday. The elders of our tribe swear he really existed, and that he will keep his word to us and eventually come back."

"What a story! Do you believe it?"

"I believe in many things I cannot see or explain," Mayati shrugged. "Don't you?"

Zack nodded solemnly, feeling a chill thrill down his spine as he involuntarily remembered how his curse had been laid on him. Again he saw the clearing in the darkened woods, where he had stumbled onto an evil site, a black medicine wheel, smelled the stink of the fresh blood that soaked and defiled the earth underfoot within that accursed mandala, and heard the mysterious words gasped by a dying Indian: "You belong to HIM now... " Mayati spoke again, changing the subject, and his calm words jolted Zac out of the forbidding reverie.

"We are near the home of two of our tribal elders. Some of us check on them often, for they are aged men, though they insist on continuing to live independently. Would you like to meet them?"

"Sure." Zack was happy for the potential distraction from his own problems. Another thought came to him then. "Um, do you mind if I asked you a personal question?"

"No, of course not."

"Is Mayati your real name or your tribal name?"

"It is the name I received after I saw Falling Star and went on a vision quest. Like you, the spirits gave me a new name."

"Does it have a meanin'?"

"In English, it means 'Sings-to-the-dawn'."

"That's beautiful," Zack murmured, reaching to caress the heron man's back.

During their conversation, Zack had already begun to notice signs that told him the trail they followed was more well traveled, as if they were approaching a settlement. Mayati turned off of it after awhile and followed an obviously less used, but nonetheless well marked path that paralleled a burbling stream. After climbing past a couple of gleaming waterfalls that tumbled merrily from fern-choked, craggy upthrusts of rock, they came to a good-sized pond fed by a notably large and sparkling cascade.

Zack paused, puzzled by something odd about the waterfall. The spray rising from it seemed to mingle with a smoky mist that hung heavily over the pool, like a sort of fog. Mayati stopped as Zack pointed out the phenomenon.

"Oh," the heron man smiled, leading Zack to the edge of the water. "Here, feel."

Zack did as the native had and placed his hands in the water. He got a pleasant surprise as the coolness he expected was not there. The pool was the temperature of a warm bath, comfortable and soothing.

"A large hot spring is located above the waterfall there," Mayati indicated. "The overflow from it joins this stream and heats the pond."

"Wow. No wonder your elders decided to make their home here."

"There are many thermal vents in the valley of the heron," explained Mayati. "Almost every stream in our land begins as a hot spring."

As Zack stood up, he happened to spot another clump of starflowers partly hidden by a nearby tree. The dozen or so flowers were all white, except for a single bloom in the midst of the spray. Its color was difficult to tell in the shade of the forest, though Zack could see it was darker than the others. Zack called Mayati's attention to the blossoms and the pair went to investigate.

"Zack!" the Elxa brave breathed in awe, after looking at the flowers. "Look what you have found!"

Studying it more closely, Zack saw that the odd starflower's color was a rich, deep green. Each of its five petals appeared as if a master craftsman had fashioned them from a fine grade of precious jade. Zack glanced at his companion.

"Is it a special one?"

"Oh yes! And more than that, my friend," Mayati began as he took a stone and placed it by the trail to mark the spot. "The green starflowers are the rarest of all. They are great medicine, magic. Some say they grant wishes, others say that those who find them are being warned that their life circumstances are about to dramatically change. Come, the home of the elders whom we seek is close."

Going another dozen or so yards, they came to a clearing and Zack spied an old log cabin standing near the pond. Its age was indicated by the extent to which its outer walls had been covered by slow-growing mosses and lichens. These living shingles dappled the ancient logs with irregular patches of green and gray and black, making Zack wonder. The growths made the cabin appear to be something that had sprouted from the earth itself.

Zack admired a spacious garden which had been laid out near the cabin. An obviously well thought out series of rock-walled terraces descended a south-facing slope. They were filled with a thriving variety of vegetables and herbs.

A large trellis set up on the highest terrace supported a billowy mass of hop vines that shaded the south side of the cabin from the summer sun, cooling it. The vines were covered with pale green hop flowers. The catkins, looking like miniature pine cones, filled the air with their pleasant, subtle scent. Mayati gave an odd sort of whistle as they approached. The signal had its effect and before they reached the cabin, the front door opened.

Zack was somewhat surprised. He had expected to see an elderly native, but it was an aged white man who stood in the doorway, gray haired and bearded, looking happily at his visitors. He greeted Mayati with an upraised hand, but pleased expression changed abruptly when he saw Zack, turning from an ordinary smile to a broad, gap-toothed grin - or was it a leer of raw lust?

"Holy... " he began, looking Zack up and down hungrily before calling over his shoulder to someone else inside. "Yves, get your wrinkled butt out here! We've got company!"

"How do you do, sir?" Zack asked respectfully, offering his hand.

"How do YOU do, young man?" he returned playfully, still ogling Zack as he gripped and pumped Zack's hand. "I'm Dan Epps."

"I'm Zack Weir. Mayati thought we ought to look in on you and your partner."

"I'm glad he did. Seein' a handsome young stud like yourself is as good a stimulant as a shot of whiskey!" Dan chortled. Then the elder's manner changed again when he spotted the glyphstone hanging from Zack's neck. He started to cuss. "Dagnabit, Mayati!" he began, turning to the native in chagrin, "Are Yves and I still tribal elders or not? Why didn't someone tell us the tribe had a new member?"

"Calm down, Dan," Mayati cooed. He gave the elder a short version of how he had met Zack the day before and the medicine dream that had come to Zack the following night. Dan looked at Zack with an impressed gleam in his eyes.

"Welcome to the Elxa, son," he smiled. "What's your tribal name?"

When Zack hesitated, Mayati answered for him.

"Sun Bear."

"Very apt."

Dan gave Zack a welcoming hug. Then the second elder, whom Dan introduced as Yves Rebours, appeared in the doorway. Like Dan, his hair and long beard were gray also. Dan's partner took one look at Zack and said something in awed-sounding French.

"He's impressed," Dan explained. "But then, it usually doesn't take much to impress him."

"Shut up, you snake in the bush!" Yves exclaimed, switching to English as he turned to Mayati and pointed to Zack's pendant in one motion. "Why weren't we told we had a new brother?" he demanded.

Dan and Mayati both lost their composure and laughed like fools. Yves glared at the pair murderously and cursed them both roundly in French. Zack for his part stood by quietly as his companions sorted themselves out and wondered how new members were usually inducted into the Elxa tribe.

His imagination was not slow in conjuring up a variety of things a group of randy man-lovers could do to prospective members. Zack's cock stirred in his pants as he thought about the possible situations he might yet find himself in. At any rate, he could not believe that all new heron men had their glyphstones delivered to them by the same supernatural means he had experienced!

Yves and Dan showed their guests around the cabin and the gardens they had worked on together for over thirty years. When Mayati told them about the green starflower growing nearby, they took a shovel and transplanted the entire small clump of blossoms to a prominent spot in the elders' garden. They were as awed by it as Mayati, though Zack was still skeptical about the supernatural powers the odd flower supposedly held.

"It reminds me of a poem I heard once," said Dan, gazing at the rare blossom.

There is to me a daintiness about these early flowers that touches me like poetry. They blow out with such a simple loveliness among the common herbs of pasture, and they breathe their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts whose beatings are too gentle for this world...

As Mayati had mentioned earlier, Yves and Dan were old enough to remember the time when the tribe had moved to the valley of the heron, over thirty years before, leaving an adobe city hidden in a lost canyon on the edge of the Blue Mountains, a place that had been the Elxa's refuge for centuries. The elders both backed up the story Mayati had told Zack as the pair had traveled. They swore that the immortal being known to native legend as Hunts-by-night had been no myth. In fact, they had both seen and known him well in their younger days.

"Hunts-by-night saved my life once," Dan was saying. "He stopped an enemy arrow that far from my heart!" He illustrated the brief distance and Zack looked sceptical as he responded.

"How did he do that?"

"He just reached out and grabbed the arrow! Plucked it right out of the air as it flew at me!"

"Hunts-by-night's medicine was very strong for his brothers." Mayati agreed and Zack refrained from asking more questions about the legendary heron man.

Yves and Dan went on to talk about themselves and their experiences in the Oregon country when they were younger. At that time, Oregon had been a trackless wilderness dominated by various native tribes. And only a handful of white men, mostly mountain men and fur trappers, had seen it firsthand.

Dan and Yves had been among those early explorers, working as agents for the Hudson Bay Company. They had met and bonded a couple of years before stumbling across the Elxa by happy accident. This had occurred about forty years previously, in the course of a search for new hunting grounds for beaver. They had been welcomed into the tribe, which they soon found was composed completely of men like themselves, men who loved men.

Amid all the reminiscing was a good deal of verbal sparring. But Zack noticed that for all the insulting banter the pair tended to trade, the old lovers would touch each other often, steadying each other as they moved around the uneven landscape. An odd sadness rose in Zack when he saw Yves move without thinking and take Dan's arm gently to guide him past a rough spot in the trail.

"What is it, Zack?" Mayati asked, noticing his friend's moist eyes.

"I couldn't help thinkin' how sad it will be for the one who's left behind when the other dies."

Mayati looked at the old couple and murmured softly.

"The survivor will have a lifetime of sweet, loving memories to keep him company, and more, for their are things you have yet to learn about the Elxa. For the time being, think instead of how much more sad it is for those like us who live their entire lives without knowing a love like Dan and Yves share, a deep, spiritual connection with another man that gives a soul strength and wisdom."

"I want to give them a treat," Zack said at once, before whispering his plan to Mayati. His companion smiled and agreed readily. Together they managed to steer the tour back to the small lake before the elders' cabin.

"That water sure looks invitin'," Zack said casually, making sure his hosts heard before he turned to them. "Can I take a dip in your pond?"

"Uh, sure!" Dan managed.

Before the elders' unblinking eyes, Zack stripped slowly, trying not to make too obvious a show out of it. Sitting down to pull off his boots, he looked up at the pair. They had hardly noticed that Mayati was already out of his scanty garb and was wading into the water.

"Would you like to join us?" Zack suggested as he stood up and undid his belt.

"Sure!" Dan answered for both of them.

"Magnifique!" muttered Yves as Zack dropped his pants and stood naked before the pair.

Zack rubbed the thick hair on his chest absently, while he watched the heron elders undress, Yves removing his clothing as quickly as Dan. Both were eager to accept Zack's invitation. Allowing them to hold on to him for support, Zack helped them into the warm water, though Zack doubted they really needed his help. The heron elders showed no inclination to let go as they reached waist deep water and Zack smiled encouragement to them as they began to explore his body with their hands, going where their eyes had gone before.

"Damn," Dan murmured, hefting Zack's half-hard member out of the water. "That's quite a pecker you got on you, son! It looks good on a big guy like yourself, balances everything out, sort of."

"It is yours to do with as you wish," whispered Zack. "And yours too," he invited Yves, who was fondling Zack's furry ballsac.

Yves muttered something softly in French. Zack looked expectantly to Dan. He gave Zack a crooked grin.

"You've called his bluff."

"What do you mean?"

"The younger men of the tribe respect us highly, but few of them think of us as potential bedmates, or indeed, as sexual beings at all. It's a way of lovin' that few of our Elxa brothers care to explore. Yves wants to know if you're serious, and, if you are, if you'd let us enjoy you in our bed tonight. I'm afraid the time is long past when we could cavort in the water as carelessly as you youngsters. And even if we could, I wouldn't want to do anything with a good lookin' man like you too quickly!"

Zack looked across the pond to where Mayati was floating on his back lazily in a patch of sunlit water. He wondered why he was suddenly worried about hurting his new friend's feelings, despite what he remembered having been told by the guardian of the cave of mysteries in his medicine dream. Dan followed Zack's gaze and guessed the younger man's thoughts.

"To the Elxa, love is something that's meant to be shared, Sun Bear. Mayati knows this and won't feel sad if you choose to be with us tonight," Dan said, speaking directly to Zack's doubts.

"Yes," declared Zack. "I'd like that... I want to share myself with you both. The love I've seen between you two moves me deeply, and I want to be a part of it, even if it is only for one night."

Yves moved his face to nuzzle the blonde fur on Zack's chest, meshing it with his snowy beard, speaking softly. His warm breath stirred the pale hairs and made the hidden nipples harden, turning to plump, rosy nubs. Zack felt his desire rising even as he listened to the heron elder breathing a song.

If only for one night, if only for one hour, if only for the briefest span of time...

When we touch it will forge a bond, a connection of souls...

Unbreakable, eternal, lasting a lifetime and into lives to come...

As Dan had predicted, Mayati was glad for them when he heard the men's plans and stayed the rest of the day. He kept busy, sharing little tasks around the cabin with Zack that had been building up, cutting and stacking firewood against the coming winter, and other tasks Dan and Yves were becoming too frail to attempt on their own. After the foursome shared supper, Mayati took his small pack of supplies as he and Zack stepped outside.

"I have decided to go on to Roman Rock," the heron man began. "I or another will return here in a day or so to guide you to the cave of mysteries, the home of Falling Star."

"I appreciate your help." Zack managed as he pulled out his makings, wondering how he was going to say farewell to this remarkable man.

"Perhaps you would care to share a smoke with me," Mayati said as he produced an odd little pipe carved from pink and white banded onyx from a small pouch at his side.

"Sure."

Zack watched as Mayati filled the bowl with shredded leaves from the same pouch. Zack sacrificed one of his matches to light it and saw the bowl fluctuate with an orange glow as the heron man inhaled. Mayati offered the pipe to his friend wordlessly, holding his breath.

Though he thought that was an odd way to smoke, Zack tried to imitate the Elxa brave. He quickly realized that the substance in the pipebowl was not tobacco. The heavy, sweet tang of the smoke it produced was not at all unpleasant however. By the time the pair finished the shared smoke, Zack was feeling oddly lightheaded.

"What was that?" he asked.

"The dried leaves and petals of the red starflower." Mayati answered, thick yellowish smoke flowing from his nostrils. His expression seemed slightly mischievous as he went on. "Our elders know that smoking it before making love heightens the experience. Consider it my parting gift to you. Oh, and this as well," he said, taking the pouch of special salve from his pack and handing it to Zack. "This will make your way easy with Dan and Yves when you give them your youthful strength, for your manhood is ample and will fill them well!" The native smiled.

"Mayati, I... I'm sorry you're goin'. I hope we meet again."

"We will, my friend, we will."

Call to me in the bright day, in the dark night, anytime, and I will come bringing love to mingle with your own, making more, much more, than simple addition might predict...

"Someday," Zack said as he caressed the heron man's smooth, muscular chest tenderly, "I promise I'll sing to you."

"And it will be beautiful, my brother," Mayati murmured back as he moved to kiss his friend. "Be well," he said simply before shouldering his pack and turning to walk away into the surrounding woods. Soon his form was lost to view and Zack sighed another heartfelt farewell before he went back inside the old cabin, to share the experienced touch of the two heron elders who waited for him.

Over the next two days, Zack assisted the old heron men with odd jobs around their home. Yves showed him his craft, which was making bows. There were several yew branches in his workshop, in various stages of being transformed into formidable weapons. Some were veritable mediaeval longbows, over five feet in length.

"Now that everyone carries guns and rifles, you probably think my makin' these are a waste of time, no? But I tell you, even today it's a mistake to rely only on firearms out here in this wilderness. These are quieter and you'll never run out of powder!"

Another time Zack had gone off with Dan to gather bark from incense cedars. The tough, stringy fibers in the bark were twisted together by hand to make a durable twine. Dan showed Zack how it was done, a job he had engaged in for many years.

"We may be old, but we're still useful." Dan grinned as his fingers moved, seemingly of their own accord, wedding lengths of the pale brown fibers together to make a stout string that could be used to weave thicker ropes, fishing nets or coarse mats.

The men showed Zack the hot spring that boiled above their home. The steaming pool was too hot to get into, but over the years they and others had built a series of rock walled ponds below the spring, that caught the runoff and allowed it to cool to the point where it was bearable. As they soaked in one of these artificial pools together, the elders told Zack of their lives, the time spent in the valley of the heron, the long and happy years of togetherness and camaraderie with their heron brothers, their loves safely hidden from the prejudiced eyes of the world.

At night, Zack came to learn the ways of slow, gentle love, cuddled warmly with the Elxa elders in their wide, comfortable bed. While he enjoyed the experience, he could not forget his curse, the reason why he had come to the valley of the heron in the first place. At one point when he was sitting in the garden alone, next to the green starflower, he rolled and lit a cigarette as he relaxed in the sunshine. With fragrant smoke curling lazily through the pale hairs that grew so thickly around his mouth, Zack glanced at the rare blossom and muttered distractedly to himself.

"If you really can grant wishes, then send me a man who can understand my problem and love me in spite of it. Oh, and while you're at it, you might as well make him handsome, fun to be with and good in bed to boot!"

A slight breeze blew through the garden as Zack voiced his idle wish. He could not help but note that, oddly, of all the starflowers that were growing in the transplanted clump, only the green one moved. It nodded as if it were agreeing to grant Zack's desires.

A rain shower during his second night there showed up a leak in the roof. The next morning a shirtless Zack was up on top of the old cabin, working on repairs. He ripped out a section of rotted cedar shingles and proceeded to bang in replacements, some sheets of pale pink, fragrant wood the elders had on hand.

Halfway through the patch job, he paused to wipe his brow and rose up a little to look around. He saw Yves and Dan still working in their garden, as they had begun doing when he first climbed up to the roof. Only now a third person had joined them.

The newcomer was another white man whom Zack judged to be about the same age as he. Zack felt an odd sensation ignite in his chest as he studied the stranger. He had long, light red-brown hair bound in a ponytail and a full beard that was slightly redder.

The man was also working shirtless in the warm August sunshine. Zack saw an upper torso that was every bit as hairy as his own. Zack recalled Mayati mentioning something about two of his Elxa brothers being extremely hairy, and it looked as if this had to be one of those tribesmen.

The color of his fur deepened to a richer, ruddier color as it swept down his chest and abdomen and across his back. Like Mayati, his body was lithe and tightly muscled. All in all, Zack thought he was quite a desirable man.

As Zack stared, entranced by the newcomer's svelte handsomeness, the man paused in his work. He looked around himself as if he could sense that he was being watched and was searching for the eyes that were upon him. Suddenly he looked directly up at where Zack crouched on the roof.

Their eyes locked and something like electricity tingled through Zack's body at the same moment. He wondered at the sensation as the stranger smiled and lifted a hand in greeting. Zack returned the salute.

For his part, the newcomer openly admired the rugged good looks of the big, burly man he had been sent to find, as well as feeling a randy desire to get him alone and naked in some secluded place. Blonde men turned him on. But besides that, he too had felt an odd burst of energy course through him when his eyes met Zack's and wondered at it. He would have wondered even more had he known the feeling had been a shared one between them.

But, not knowing that, he was left to draw his own conclusions. It occurred to him that perhaps his selection by Falling Star himself for the task of guiding the handsome stranger to the medicine man's home was not a coincidence. Long experience had taught him that in situations where the Elxa's chief shaman took an interest, nothing was ordinary or could be taken for granted.

Before Zack finished his task, the others went into the cabin and began preparing lunch. By the time he banged the last new shingle home and climbed down, there was a delicious meal waiting for him. And an equally appetizing stranger.

"Hi, I'm Zack Weir," he introduced himself, going right up to the handsome man as soon as he entered the cabin. Like Zack, the newcomer had not bothered to put his shirt back on and faced the bigger man boldly as he answered.

"I'm Eben Hale."

Though Zack fairly towered over Eben's five foot ten inch frame, there was something about the shorter man that gave Zack, and most other men, for that matter, pause. Eben seemed to exude some kind of exotic energy, as if there were far more to him than met the eye. Zack was sure some men might find the effect intimidating, but he was genuinely intrigued by it.

The look in Eben's bright brown eyes made Zack guess Eben was having similar feelings concerning the man right in front of him. Eben's eyes glinted with vague hints of red and orange in a rather odd way. In fact, they sparkled exactly in the same way that Zack's amber eyes would sometimes manifest golden sparks. Both men noticed the effect as they shook hands, and it seemed to lead to more amorous thoughts in both of them.

"Glad to meet you," Zack muttered, feeling his cock grow.

"Likewise."

After Eben spoke, he showed no inclination to let go of Zack's hand. And Zack had no desire to draw away either. Then it occurred to Zack that he ought to hug Eben in greeting, as he had seen other heron men do.

He was prepared to do it. He was already imagining the feel of his arms around Eben's hairy shoulders, the act of pulling him close, the heady scent of Eben's sweat filling his nostrils, the sensation of their chest fur meshing, the click of their glyphstones touching. Zack wondered if the man would kiss him... Then his purpose was sabotaged by the sudden sound of Dan's wry voice.

"Come on and eat, you two lovebirds," called the heron elder, in a rather amused tone, "or you won't have the energy to do anything about those hard peckers later!"

At once, the men blushed and released their grips as they suddenly remembered their audience. Each covertly glanced at the other, confirming Dan's cutting comment. The crotches of their pants had indeed grown visibly fuller.

In addition, Zack noted how Eben's orange-tinted brown eyes lingered on him. When Eben realized Zack had noticed this, he blushed a little deeper just before he turned away and headed for the table. So he was interested! As Zack sat down to eat, he felt very optimistic about what the future might bring.

So far, his sojourn among the Elxa had been more than just enjoyable. The gentle men he had met had almost made him forget about... Again Zack remembered the awful reason why he had come looking for the mysterious tribe and shuddered inwardly.

"Zack?"

"What?" he started as he answered Dan.

"I was sayin' that Eben here has come to take you to see Falling Star. You ought to go as soon as you're done eatin'. It just wouldn't do to keep our shaman waitin'."

"I've enjoyed my stay here. Thank you, to both of you... "

"It was our pleasure."

"Oui," added Yves. "Come see us again, Zack, anytime."

Later that afternoon, Zack and Eben were following the trail that led to Roman Rock. Zack told Eben about his adventures in the valley of the heron up to that point. Eben spoke up when he finished.

"I saw the green starflower you found. Did you make a wish?"

"Yes... " Zack began, remembering his idle words. Then his eyes narrowed as he glanced wonderingly at the handsome heron man who had been sent to guide him. Could it possibly be...

"You don't have to tell me what it was," said Eben, interrupting Zack's thoughts, "but I hope you get what you want."

"So do I," Zack muttered as he continued to look thoughtfully at his companion.

Soon after, Zack and Eben encountered a group of heron men who passed them going in the opposite direction. They paused to greet Eben and Zack warmly, introducing themselves as Jack Onatov, Woody Quade, Tomas DeAmanto and Xioga as they hugged Zack in welcome. As they spoke, Zack learned the first three had been visiting friends at Roman Rock, but now were on their way back to their homes in False Pass. Xioga, who lived at Roman Rock, was accompanying them part of the way, so he could enjoy their company a little longer.

Woody, Jack and Tomas were some of those heron men Mayati had mentioned to Zack earlier, members of the group who chose to live in the little town of False Pass. Woody had a partner who lived there too, Zack gathered, where they had just begun to run a general store together. Jack was the son of the town blacksmith, Jakob Onatov, another elder of the Elxa tribe. Both father and son shared a taste for manflesh, it seemed. Tomas worked a small silver claim near the town with his partners. When addressing Eben, the travelers called him by his tribal name, Lone Wolf. It caused Zack to wonder and he asked Eben about it after the four left them.

"Why didn't those fellows use your real name?"

"Well," Eben began in a thoughtful manner, "it's sort of a tradition among the Elxa that only men who are pledged to each other... " Eben paused as he noted Zack's questioning glance and rephrased himself. "Um, lovers, that is, call each other by their real names, but that's not an absolute rule. Dan and Yves don't do it, and Woody doesn't either, but they know I prefer to be called Lone Wolf."

Zack pondered that piece of information for a few moments, wondering why Mayati had not mentioned it, before asking: "Then why did you introduce yourself to me with your real name?"

"I don't know," Eben said, looking oddly at Zack, as if he were trying to read his companion's inner being. "It seemed important somehow that you know my real name. Falling Star says we should always trust our feelin's and act on them. I suppose that was what I was doin'. Why did you use your real name with me?"

"I didn't know about the lover thing, and I guess I'm not used to usin' 'Sun Bear' as a name yet. But then, when I'm lookin' at a man as handsome as you, my brain doesn't work as well as it ought to!" They grinned foolishly at each other before Zack went on. "But I don't want to give other people wrong ideas. Would you mind if I called you Lone Wolf when there are others around?"

"That would probably be best," Eben blushed.

They took several steps in silence before Zack spoke again.

"Are you pledged to another?"

"No," Eben said softly.

"Why not?"

"Up until now... " Eben caught himself and glanced briefly at Zack with startled eyes before going on. "I mean, I've been waitin' to meet someone who really stirs me, deep inside. Can you understand that?"

"Yes, Eben. I can."

They continued in silence a little further along the trail before Zack reluctantly changed the subject. He was puzzled by how wrong it felt to him to stop probing into Eben's feelings. Or to let the heron man know how he had made Zack feel inside the first time they spotted each other.

"When will we get to Roman Rock?" he asked instead. "I understand it's not too far away from Dan and Yves's home."

"We'll cross Heron Creek soon. Roman Rock is just on the other side."

"Heron Creek?"

"It's the stream that drains most of the valley of the heron."

"And Falling Star's home?"

"Well, it's too late to start out for the cave of mysteries today," Eben began with a hint of nervousness in his voice that seemed odd to Zack. Odd that is until he heard the rest of what Eben had to say. "I thought, perhaps, we might, um, stay at my cabin tonight and then leave from there in the mornin'."

"Well, sure, I'd like that, a lot," Zack smiled in understanding as he answered. He added to his acknowledgement of Eben's invitation by reaching over to put a big hand on his companion's shoulder and squeeze it gently.

Without breaking his stride, Eben sighed and leaned into Zack a little, forcing the pressure from his companion's hand to become greater. When he felt that, Zack slipped his arm around the shorter man and drew him into a closer, more intimate embrace. Eben sighed louder, then he began to whisper softly.

Sun Bear, bear man, shining hair, shining spirit;

Your golden eyes have touched me like summer lightning, making me want to tell you how very much...

"Lone Wolf!"

Zack and Eben froze in their tracks as Eben's song ended prematurely. The two men separated clumsily as another person, a native heron man, emerged from the surrounding forest and trotted up to them. The first thing Zack noticed about the newcomer was the basket that hung from his arm, loaded with cut starflowers.

There were two separate masses of the tiny, starlike blossoms stacked at either end of the native's basket, white and purple, the ones Mayati had said were the most common. But Zack spotted three other varieties for the first time. One red, one brown and two yellow starflowers, complete, including their roots, were tucked carefully to one side of the basket.

"Hello, Heyoka," Eben said to the native. Though the man's tone was not unfriendly, Zack sensed that Eben was suddenly on edge and wondered why.

"Hello, Lone Wolf. I thought you should know that Tlaccotan wishes to see you."

"Okay. Thanks for tellin' me."

"My pleasure," the heron man smiled wryly, looking at the pair with oddly arched eyebrows. "And who is this?"

"He's Sun Bear," answered Eben as Zack extended his hand.

"Glad to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you," Heyoka quipped as he looked the big man up and down with hungry eyes while gripping his hand. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the native bid them farewell and disappeared back into the woods.

"Who's Tlaccotan?" Zack asked, turning back to Eben.

"He's the chief of the Elxa."

"But I thought Falling Star was in charge."

"Falling Star is our leader, but Tlaccotan is chief among the heron elders at Roman Rock. With their help, Tlaccotan sees to the day-to-day runnin' of the tribe, freein' Falling Star to concentrate on spiritual matters."

"I couldn't help but notice," began Zack as they started walking again, "that seein' Heyoka seemed to upset you."

"It's nothing important. At least I hope it isn't... "

"What?"

"Well, every community has its town gossip, and Heyoka is the Elxa's. Seein' us huggin' like that in the open, well, it'll probably be all over Roman Rock by evenin'."

"What harm is there in that?"

"None really, but we may be in for some ribbin' and pointed jokes later on."

"I don't mind," Zack said as he put his arm back around Eben's shoulders. "If the other heron men are fool enough to put their jealousy on display, let them!"

Eben gave his companion a searching look before leaning into Zack wordlessly and the pair enjoyed sharing a warm closeness until they came to Heron Creek. Reluctantly, Eben untangled himself from Zack before they splashed across. At that point, the stream flowed across a wide bar of gravel and was easily forded.

As they crossed, their boots crunching noisily as they sank into the rough stones of the ford, a glance to his right revealed to Zack how Heron Creek widened into a sparkling, crescent-shaped pool a little ways downstream. A small crowd of shining, tawny-skinned bodies could be seen cavorting in the water. The sounds of the bathers' voices and the splashing of water floated up to his ears as a pleasantly mingled babble.

Two young Indians in particular commanded Zack's attention. They stood close together in knee deep water, beneath a waterfall formed by a junction with another stream. As the falling water rippled across their bare skins, they washed one another with the tender, familiar gestures of lovers. Once one was done soaping and meticulously cleaning the genitals of the other, they reversed their roles. The physical closeness, the touches they bestowed on each other, showing a deep respect for one another, was lovely to behold.

They began to do each other's backs, their hands soaping and kneading their way down, down... Slowly, gradually, the soapy fingers slipped deftly into the gleaming bronzed flesh of their rounded buttocks, disappearing to probe tender, secret flesh... Then Eben cleared his throat, bringing Zack's attention to the fact that he had stopped in midstream.

Eben grinned as he watched his companion move to climb the bank and join him. Zack half expected a cutting remark, but Eben only looked from Zack to study the swimmers briefly before turning back again to Zack. Then he beckoned easily and led the way to the edge of Roman Rock.

"That pool is a popular meetin' place, probably because of the big hot spring yonder," he waved, indicating a location somewhere to the northwest. "The overflow from the spring keeps the pond warm year around," Eben observed offhandedly. "A little further downstream it falls into another pond, where the boys like to show off, divin' from the top of the falls."

"That sounds fun," Zack said.

As he spoke, the pair passed into the Elxa encampment and Zack looked around himself in curiosity. At first glance, the native settlement seemed to consist of nothing more than a scattering of teepees and rough tents. But Zack soon spotted a permanent structure, a sort of longhouse built from massive slabs of hand-hewn wood, gayly painted. Some distance opposite this building's front door stood a totem pole, just as colorful. Between them, they seemed to define an open, circular area that centered on a large firepit.

"Either you've got more nerve than me or you haven't seen how high the divin' cliff is. I get dizzy just watchin' them climb it," Eben admitted before noticing Zack's observations. "Oh, that's the tribal fane you're lookin' at, our ceremonial circle. The communal kitchen is set up there also and there's always a big pot of catchall cookin', so anyone who's hungry can come by and get food anytime."

"How many Elxa live here?" Zack asked as Eben was pointing out a large iron kettle set in the midst of the Elxa fane.

A horseshoe shaped construct of rocks had been built to support the heavy cauldron. The open side allowed fuel to be fed into a firepit underneath. A few men were seated around it eating and conversing. Zack noticed not a few suggestive ogles cast in his direction from the all male group as Eben and he passed by.

"There are six year-round residents."

"I see a lot more than six here."

"Except in the wintertime, we have many visitors here," Eben explained. "Some are Elxa brothers who make their homes elsewhere in the valley of the heron or at False Pass, like Woody and Jack. Most of the others are men of our nature from other tribes who've come to see how we live, perhaps to join us. And there are some like you, who've come seekin' our shaman, Falling Star, for advice or to hear his words of wisdom."

"Eben, what's that?"

The heron man looked to see what had attracted his companion's attention. Zack was pointing to a pair of aspen trees that had been joined by a ropelike garland of woven wildflowers, positioned a little higher than the height of a man. It seemed to suggest a gateway of some sort. Eben grinned before answering.

"That's the entrance to a shanshasha, a holy grove."

"So... the Elxa go there to pray?"

"I suppose some kneel there and give thanks," chuckled Eben.

"What do you mean?"

"When a man enters the shanshasha," Eben said, trying to choose his words carefully, "he's sayin' to everyone: 'My body's here for anyone to touch, to love'. Do you understand?"

"I think so," began Zack. "Anytime you want to have sex, you can go in there and find a partner?"

"It not quite that simple," Eben explained. "If you go in there, into the sacred space of the shanshasha, the elders say you are goin' into another world, where names and relationships and inhibitions don't exist. If you go in there and see someone you want, they can't refuse you, but conversely, you can't refuse anyone who wants you.

"The elders are always warnin' us never to enter the shanshasha lightly, just to satisfy our selfish desires or the odd sexual urge. We have to be open to whatever experiences we encounter there, just as we ought to be in the 'real world', in our lives. I suppose an outsider might consider it just an excuse to hold an outdoor orgy, but the Elxa believe that sex conducted within the shanshasha is sacred and raises beneficent energy."

"Is that the only one?"

"No, and it isn't permanent either. Other shanshasha are dedicated elsewhere for varyin' lengths of time or durin' tribal festivals. That one there is new. It'll last perhaps a week or so, before the elders close it, release the good energies raised by all the mansex that happened there and then create another one somewhere else near the camp."

Zack looked back at the entrance to the shanshasha and noticed for the first time a naked native standing a little ways inside the sacred grove. The shadows of the trees made his features impossible to see, but Zack found the effect arousing. Nameless, faceless, a man representing everyman waiting for him, for his caresses... Then Zack was aware of Eben's voice, pulling him back to reality.

"Ah, here's the lodge of Tlaccotan. Come in with me and meet him."

Ducking through the open flap of the teepee, Zack stood up and looked around. The lodge was little different from those he had seen among the Wasnai. Spears, shields and painted decorations adorned the inwardly sloping walls of animal skin while a small fire burned in a stone-lined hearth pit dug in the center of the floor.

The visitors sat on some folded buffalo robes that served as chairs and waited for the Elxa elder to acknowledge them. Tlaccotan was examining a sheet of tanned deerskin with writing on it and Zack studied him as well. He was in his mid-forty's, perhaps, light-skinned for a native, but with eyes and hair as black as coal. The latter was braided and snaked down his back in a single, long, glossy queue that looked as if it might hang down to the heron chief's knees when he stood up.

At last he looked up from the document and began to speak in a tongue that Zack guessed was the Elxa's common language. Eben replied in the same dialect and they conversed in this way for some time. Then the heron chief turned his attention to Zack, switching easily to English as he did so.

"I welcome you warmly to our camp, Sun Bear, especially since the spirits that protect and guide us here in the valley of the heron have so obviously favored you."

Zack's hand rose unconsciously to the glyphstone he wore. Eben must have told Tlaccotan the story of how he found it. Zack tried to think of an appropriate response to the elder's greeting, but all he could do was stutter lamely in reply.

"I... I'm glad to meet you... sir... "

Tlaccotan smiled and Zack relaxed. "I am glad you suffered no hardships on your way here, for our lands are rugged and hard to travel."

"From what I've observed so far," Zack began, recovering a bit of his eloquence, "I'd have to say your lands are the most beautiful I've ever seen."

Tlaccotan's smile widened. He was obviously pleased by Zack's words of praise for his tribe's valley. "Tomorrow, Lone Wolf will guide you to the home of our wise shaman, Falling Star. Tonight, you must come and feast with us. Our brother Tulun has felled the largest elk any of us have seen in quite some time and the animal will feed many."

"I would be honored."

"Go and prepare yourselves then. The feast begins at dusk and drums will sound to call the guests."

Thanking the chief again, Eben and Zack rose and exited the lodge. No sooner had they stepped outside than a crowd of waiting heron men commenced showering the pair with handfuls of small wildflowers and began shouting raucously, saying something that sounded to Zack like 'hoop-ne-ya'. Eben responded laughingly in the Elxa tongue to some of the more aggressive jokers before he turned to Zack.

"I warned you something like this might happen."

"What is it?"

"They want to know if I've claimed you for myself or if you're still... um... 'up for grabs' as it were. There are many here who find you quite handsome and desirable, and they'd probably approach you at the feast tonight with certain... ah... suggestions, if they thought you'd be free to entertain them."

Zack thought a moment. "Tell them they must learn to live with disappointment for the time bein', for I wish to learn the ways of the wolf."

Eben smiled broadly and translated his words. A chorus of hoots and laughter went up, and the pair were pummeled with more flowers, though Zack also noted approving looks from several of the onlookers. It appeared that Zack had scored some points among the Elxa and felt good about it as Eben led him away. They left Roman Rock and passed into the surrounding woods.

"Where are we goin'?"

"I built my cabin some distance away from the settlement. I... like my privacy."

"You like livin' alone?"

"I don't think anyone really likes bein' alone," Eben began, "but, sometimes, you don't have a choice. I know that must sound strange to you... "

Zack put his arm around Eben again and spoke quietly. "I understand what you mean. Better than you might guess."

Eben glanced at Zack questioningly. But a response seemed unnecessary and he leaned silently into Zack's warm side again, seeking the comfort of his companion's touch. Their arms came up across each other's backs and hands gripped shoulders as the men continued walking along a faint path. A half-hour's stroll through the dense and freshly fragrant forest brought them to their goal.

Though the site of Eben's cabin was separated from Roman Rock by only a couple of low ridges, it had a strong aura of isolation about it, as if it were the only human habitation around for miles. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Zack glanced longingly at the pool near Eben's home, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight, before following Eben into the cabin. By then, he was becoming used to seeing limpid ponds, as well as crystal waterfalls and clear-running streams, everywhere in the Elxa's apparently well-watered country.

"I think I'll take a quick dip, and then maybe a nap, before the feast," Zack announced as he put his pack down behind the door, and leaned his rifle and staff against the wall nearby.

"Sounds like a good idea," agreed Eben.

Going back outside, the two men began to strip, looking each other over as they did so with more than ordinary curiosity. As the clothes came off, Zack was amazed by how hairy Eben was. His silky, light brown-red pelt rivaled Zack's in thickness and total body coverage, inspiring Zack with a strong desire to stroke every delectable-looking square inch of it with his tongue.

Similar thoughts must have been running through Eben's mind as well, to judge by his turgid cock. Like Zack's, the unruly members signaled their readiness to fulfill the attraction each man felt for the other. But their self-control was impressive. When they finally touched, it was only to hold hands as they waded into the water together, Eben guiding Zack across hidden, algae-slick stones to the deepest part of the pond, near the cascade that spilled ebulliently into it.

The water was warm, warmer than Zack expected and he mentioned his observation to Eben. Zack's guide explained that, like the elders Dan and Yves, he had chosen to build his home near a hot spring. It was not quite as large as the one Zack had seen, but the overflow from it was enough to keep the pond warm enough to swim in almost year around.

Retrieving a bar of soap he kept stashed in the crack of a convenient rock, Eben began to wash. Zack watched him stroke the bar between his legs with hungry eyes. When he asked if he could wash Eben's body, his companion wordlessly handed him the soap.

Recalling what he had witnessed at the pond along Heron Creek earlier, Zack tried to imitate the native bathers' actions. Taking the soap, he lathered the smaller man's hairy flesh, massaging the suds into every contour and crevasse he could find as Eben sighed and relaxed. After dunking himself to rinse off, he returned the favor.

Eben slowly worked over the bigger man's body with a gentle touch that soon had Zack looking forward to anything but a quiet nap. The heron man stroked and massaged with an experience that came close to driving Zack to distraction. It was all he could do not to cry out a demand that Eben take him then and there, and put an end to the empty aching bellowing need his touch had kindled within Zack.

Eben coaxed Zack to move backward until he stood under the waterfall. The cascade of warm water not only rinsed away the suds but dampened Zack's ardor somewhat. Well-scrubbed and dripping, the men moved back to the shore and stretched out upon some flat rocks, pregnant with the day's warmth, and let the wind and sun dry them.

After a while, Zack reached over and started to tentatively touch his companion again, evoking a tactile echo of what had passed between them in the pool. Eben seemed pleased with what Zack was doing, as he lay still with his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips. Zack smiled back.

"You look happy, Eben," he murmured.

"I am happy," he sighed in contentment. "Because you're here beside me."

Remembering their walk to Roman Rock earlier that day, Zack felt the same desire to probe deeper into Eben's feelings towards him rise again. He gave in to them. He hoped his nervousness was not too apparent in his voice as he spoke.

"Eben?"

"Yes, Zack?"

"I might have been given this pendant," he began, touching the glyphstone he wore, "but I don't really understand how you heron men do things here. I'm still learnin' about it. So I have to ask you, are you, ah, attracted to me?"

Eben turned his head and looked at Zack with his brown-orange eyes wide with surprise and exclaimed. "Of course I am, Zack! Couldn't you tell?"

"Yes, yes... It just seems like I... I've been feelin' attraction for every man I've met here, so far... And they haven't been shy about showin' their desires for me, either... But you seem different, like you're feelin' something deeper and more personal... Towards me... Am I wrong?"

"No, you're not wrong, Zack," Eben confessed with a sigh, hesitating a bit before he went on. "Does that bother you?" he asked with only the barest trace of apprehension in his voice.

"No! No, Eben, not at all. I just... I think... " Zack shook himself and forced the words out. "Look, if I was feelin' the same way towards you, would you mind?"

Eben's eyes glinted with odd orange sparks again as he answered. Zack's words had fanned a few sparks of hope in his heart, igniting an anticipatory flame. His first impulse was to jump up, shout for joy, and cover Zack's nude body with kisses, but Eben was afraid of jumping the gun, so he forced himself to stay on his rock and respond with words in a low, earnest voice, heavy with suppressed emotion.

"No, Zack, I wouldn't mind. In fact, I'd gladly meet you more than halfway if that's where we thought our feelin's were leadin' us, to each other, towards something more than just friendship. No," he reaffirmed, "I wouldn't mind it at all. In fact I'd be so gla... "

"What?" Zack asked when Eben paused.

"Zack, I don't wanna force anything to happen between us that wouldn't happen naturally on its own. Just believe me, I'm happy right now, just bein' close to you... "

Zack opened his mouth to respond to his new friend, but stopped himself. Instead he went back to exploring Eben's body with his hands. He tried to stop analyzing his feelings and just let them go on to become whatever they wanted to be.

But at the same time, a small hope was kindled in Zack as well. A hope that those feelings would wax stronger where Eben was concerned. A hope that Eben just might be the one, the companion Zack had fantasized about finding ever since he had realized his true man-loving nature, the man who would share his love and his life, forever...

"Do you want to go inside, big fella?" Eben asked quietly, after awhile. "My bed's a whole lot more comfortable than these rocks."

"I'll bet it is, little buddy," was Zack's murmured answer, making Eben grin. The playful exchange of pet names had touched him deeply. "But look at what's happenin' to me, just thinkin' of goin' to bed with you."

Eben looked. Zack's impressive tool had risen to its full, rampant glory. A bead of pre-cum had appeared, clinging precariously to the rosy, swollen cockhead.

Thinking about what Eben had said a little while ago, about not wanting to force anything, Zack was about to ask if Eben wanted to make love to him. But when he saw Eben's reaction, saw his friend's manhood swell and stand, stretching itself out to equal Zack's not inconsiderable equipment, all Zack could do for a moment was stare hungrily, just as Eben was doing. The time for words was past and Zack let his lusty desires take control.

Those feelings multiplied as Zack arose with a chuckle and picked Eben up with an easy, surprising strength. Eben might not have been a large man, but he was no lightweight either. But at that particular moment Eben's curiosity was not aroused by the unexpected display of strength Zack was giving.

It was Zack who aroused him, the man who cradled his naked body in his furry arms like a child as he swiftly carried Eben into his own cabin and lowered him onto his bed, cuddling and kissing him urgently all the while. Eben moaned in low tones as Zack's kisses trailed down his neck to the dark nipples, almost hidden in his chest fur. Zack's tongue made dark, wet whorls of hair as he worked the sensitive flesh into hard, brown nubs with the help of his lips and teeth.

Eben's groans deepened as Zack's beard hairs raked his painfully erect cock, bypassing it to gently lap at the ballsac and the skin beneath it until they gleamed wetly. Zack felt as if his tongue was dipping into a bit of heaven as he worked. Eben tasted strongly of maleness, the heated flesh of his crotch aromatic with sweat and sex, a scent that Zack relished.

Lapping up all he could of that wondrous savor, Zack slowly worked his way back up. Just before he reached the hooded tip of Eben's hard cock, he looked up. Eben's brown, orange-flashing eyes locked with Zack's amber, gold-flashing orbs.

Just as had happened when they first laid eyes on each other, a jolt of strange energy shot through their bodies. However, neither man realized the effect was simultaneous, nor was either inclined to wonder about it just then. Zack opened his mouth deliberately and slowly took all of Eben into him.

"Oh, Zack, you're so beautiful... " Eben panted, feeling the unique masculine sweetness within him churn and swell and tremble on the verge of inevitable explosion as Zack's tongue and mouth suctioned around his aching cock. "Zack... my big fella... I want it... to last... but I can't... hold back... ah!... AH!!!"

His thick, musky seed burst across Zack's tongue, overloading the man's sex-heightened senses with a taste and a smell that became the only savory sensation in Zack's universe for a time, the only reality he wanted to experience and exist in. Taste and movement, pearly musk being consumed by a grateful, hungry blackness. When Eben's orgasmic shocks had subsided, Zack carefully licked Eben's cock clean of the last of his spunk and left the still stiff and sticky tool lying on Eben's belly as the big man moved his head down, back between Eben's legs.

Eben spread them wider, silently agreeing as Zack began to massage his asshole with a cum-slick tongue. Soon the oral muscle was moving in and out the spit-sloppy gateway as Eben's deepening moans told Zack he was more than ready for him. Zack got up to retrieve the small sack of Elxa salve Mayati had given him. He took a gob of the fulvous gel and deftly coated the insides of Eben's manhole with it, making the man shiver as the special grease tingled. Eben reached out and handled Zack's rigid manhood, stroking it.

"I want to taste you, please... " he managed. Zack moved at once, carefully straddling Eben's chest and guiding his throbbing cock to Eben's lips.

"Anything you want, little buddy," Zack rasped, his desire audible in his voice as he gazed into his bedpartner's flashing eyes. "You're a good-lookin', good-tastin', good-feelin' man, Eben, and I've got to have you, be inside you!"

Eben gulped the proffered meat down greedily, sucking hungrily on the heated wand of flesh that was ready to enter him and evoke the wondrous masculine magic that the Elxa believed in. Zack groaned and gasped that he could not hold his desire back if Eben kept on the way he was going. Eben responded by pushing on Zack's hips, urging him back between his wide-spread legs, urging him to fill the void between them. Zack planted his dripping prick at the edge of the grease slickened hole and looked deep into Eben's pleading eyes.

"You ready, little buddy?"

"I've been ready, big fella," Eben said, his voice gravelly and hoarse with lust, his brown-orange eyes burning with a fierce spirit that seemed to be attempting to reach out and seize Zack's soul as he spoke, "ever since I first saw you up on that roof, your fur shinin' like spun gold in the August sunlight... "

Zack was unable to hold himself back any longer. He sank into Eben's gut in one, irresistible lunge. Eben's head flew back into the pillows as he saw stars spinning and crashing in cosmic crescendos of sensation. And he babbled distractedly as Zack drove himself into Eben's ass with pounding thrusts.

"I'm lost to you, Zack... utterly lost... never before... better than anything I ever... lost, lost to you... didn't think it was possible... my only big fella... love you... I... you... "

Eben's manhood rose again. The hard meat was trapped, sandwiched and rubbed mercilessly between the two men's pelts. With that and Zack's pecker nudging the sweet firespot within him with each inward thrust, Eben was soon cumming again, his confined cock pulsing wetly, gluing their hairy bellies together with his spunk. The contractions in Eben's body triggered Zack's climax at the same time and the two men struggled together, kissing, shooting, clutching and gasping half-words of passion.

Zack collapsed on top of Eben, pressing the smaller man's body deeper into the bed. Eben reached up and around to hug and stroke Zack's sweaty back as they kissed in the distraction of love's ebullient afterglow. Rolling over onto their sides, Zack pulled himself out of Eben, but remained in a close embrace with him as they relaxed. Just before Zack's consciousness faded into sleep he heard Eben's voice, as if from very far away, whispering in exhausted resignation.

"I can't help myself, Zack... I'm yours now, body and soul... I've loved you from the first moment I saw you and I will love you for the rest of my life... "

The few atoms of Zack's mind that were still aware struggled valiantly to respond to Eben's loving declaration, to acknowledge and confirm that Eben stirred him equally as deeply. But the black abyss of sleep was too close. Zack slipped into its unplumbed depths, calling out silently for Eben as he fell...

It did not seem at all odd to Zack when he found himself outside, seated at his ease on a sunwashed, grassy, wildflower-strewn knoll, with Eben's head cradled in his lap. Both men were naked and Eben was sleeping peacefully, so Zack moved carefully. He did not want to wake his new friend as he reached to gather some of the blue lupines that grew so thickly and beautifully around them. Patiently weaving them into a lacey azure crown, he placed it gently on Eben's head.

"My little buddy... " he sighed softly, looking down at Eben's handsome, heavily bearded face, relaxed in sleep. "I've been lookin' for a man like you for a long, long time... too damn long... "

Zack smiled then, glad he had spoken his heart, and lifted his gaze. He leisurely looked around himself, taking in his new surroundings. The man had seen much natural beauty since he had arrived in the valley of the heron, but now it seemed as if some deity of aesthetics had put it all on special display, just for him.

As he focused on objects and people he knew were far away from Eben's home, Zack found his eyes had been gifted with telescopic abilities. Without wondering why or how his sight had been so improved, he witnessed the bustling activity in Roman Rock as the heron men prepared for their feast. Looking further, he saw the home of Dan and Yves, empty.

Zack worried for a moment or two as he scanned for his friends. Finally he located them. He saw the Elxa elders being escorted to the settlement by a pair of native heron men. When Zack realized they would be at the feast he smiled to himself, glad to know that he would soon be able to enjoy their company again.

He looked towards the east and focused on a cave in the distant foothills of the mountain the Elxa tribesmen called Zoraxte. A heron elder of imposing mien emerged from the cavern's dark, jagged opening and looked gravely in Zack's direction, as if he were studying the white man across the many miles that separated them. Zack blinked in consternation.

The Indian looked like the guardian of the cave of mysteries, the spirit being Zack had encountered in his medicine dream, the vision he had experienced in Mayati's camp a few nights before. But this man was different somehow, in a way Zack found hard to define. The cave he stood before seemed important somehow and Zack noted the place so he would recognize it if and when he saw it again.

Then a sound came, distracting him. Heavy, harsh and cadent it was, growing louder as its source came closer. A cold fear arose and seized ahold of Zack's body as he recognized it.

"Eben, wake up," Zack whispered, shaking his companion urgently. Zack had heard that sound before and knew what it meant: HE was coming.

Despite Zack's best efforts to rouse him, Eben slept on. It was almost as if the man had been drugged. Zack stood up to face the as yet unseen source of the unearthly noise and planted himself between it and Eben's unconscious form.

"You can't have him!" Zack roared in HIS direction. "You might have stolen my body and soul already, but you can't have Eben! I'll fight you for him!"

An alien tittering, like daemonic laughter, floated lightly across the green land. As the sound grew, the grass and flowers growing at Zack's feet were blighted. The man watched in shock as the lush plantlife all around him withered and crumbled away, leaving him stranded in a wasteland of blackened dirt and ashes.

The shockingly familiar sound continued, sending cold chills of terror down Zack's spine. The devilish jibbering failed to rise above the noise of the heavy treading, as if something unstoppable, a diabolical juggernaut of some sort, were approaching. It seemed to Zack that HE was speaking without words through the awful keening.

"I take what I please. I took you. I will take him too... "

"No!!" screamed Zack.

Half-crazed with fear and loathing, the man leapt from the knoll, kicking up the ashy dust with his bare feet as he rushed to grapple with the terrible thing that at last emerged from the dead and blasted forest. The area all around was instantly suffused with a cold crimson light, generated by HIS body in no natural or explicable way. HE writhed bonelessly, tramping the dead ground without feet or legs, gibbering obscenely with a voice that was no voice, coming from no mouth...

"I love him! I'll die before I let you take Eben!" Zack screamed with the fury of a berserker as he charged. He was almost touching HIS ghastly form, the quivering, dead-gray colored non-flesh of the thing that bedeviled him, the vile entity that had blighted his life, the demon that had laid the bestial curse he labored under on him, when a familiar voice, Eben's voice, came to cut through the horrific nightmare.

"Zack! Wake up! You're dreamin'!"

Zack jolted up from the bed he shared with Eben, tense and soaked with sweat. He looked around himself frantically, his panic sustained by the rhythmic sounds he was still hearing, the ones that drifted through the open windows. With infinite relief, Zack realized they were the sounds of native drums being beaten. Drums. Not HIM.

"Oh my God!" he groaned, falling back into the bed.

"Are you alright, Zack?"

"Hold me, Eben, please... " Zack pleaded. Eben bearhugged Zack at once, pressing to touch themselves together at all possible points, striving to generate a protective warmth against the unknown. "It was awful... I thought... I thought I was goin' to lose you... "

"Never," Eben hissed fiercely, "never, my love... "

"I dreamt... "

"Shhh. It was just a nightmare. You're safe here with me, Zack. I won't let anything hurt you, ever."

"Eben, you don't know... "

"Shhh."

They held each other in silence, until Zack's body stopped trembling. The daylight was fading and somehow with its decline, the noise of the drums seemed to grow louder, as if sound were replacing light, keeping the air saturated with sensation. Eben nuzzled Zack's ear.

"The feast's about to begin," he murmured, "but we don't have to go if you don't feel up to it."

"No," Zack shook his head, shaking off the last remnants of his horrific dream. "No, I promised Tlaccotan I'd be there." He sat up and looked at himself. His chest and belly fur were matted with dried cum and he forced himself to smile. "But first I guess I'd better wash again."

"Me too," grinned Eben, who presented a similar sight. "You sure made a mess, big fella!"

"You complainin', little buddy?" he grinned back, looking into Eben's laughing eyes. The flashing orbs seemed to hold the power to banish a thousand nightmares.

"Hell, no!" Eben snorted.

The men kissed again before rolling out of the rumpled bed. After a quick dip in the warm pond, they dried off with some old flour sacks Eben used for towels and donned their clothes. A faint, but sharp sound came to Zack's ears. As he turned towards it, towards the west, it sounded again and Eben noticed.

"Oh, those are the old mission's bells. They sound at sunrise, noon and sunset."

"The old mission?"

"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't know. You've heard of the missions in California that were founded when the Spanish ruled there, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there was one mission in northern California where the monks were all men like us, members of an ancient secret organization within the church called the order of the sacred rod." Eben paused and smiled. "I suppose you can guess which kind of rod they adored!"

Both men chuckled and Eben went on.

"They were discovered by a member of the Elxa soon after the tribe moved to the valley of the heron, and he told the monks about the Elxa. Some visited us, and after a few years, the order asked if they could come and live with us here. They built a mission like the one they had left and live communally in it on the eastern shore of the great lake of diamond waters. They farm and fish, as well as study and preserve old writin's about men like us, gleaned from the vast archives in Rome. A wise Pope named Sylvester who lived a long time ago created the order to be a haven for men like us in the church."

"They're still part of the church?"

"Yes, it's where they draw their membership from, men from monasteries all over the world. Men like us." Eben added.

"And they haven't tried to convert the Elxa?"

"If anything, the Elxa have influenced them more that they have us!" chuckled Eben. "They don't leave the mission very often, but they like visitors. I've had some very pleasant times there. I'll take you over sometime, if you'd like."

"It sounds very interestin'," Zack replied as they returned to the cabin.

Soon afterwards, the pair were following the trail back to Roman Rock. The evening star appeared, shining dully through a wide gap in an otherwise wildly-clouded, purpled sky. The men passed a few tents and lodges as they reached the outskirts of the Elxa settlement.

Eben was leading the way to the ceremonial fane in the center of Roman Rock, where most of the tribal gatherings took place. But he stopped abruptly in mild surprise when the circular site came into view, a look of dismay crossing his face. Then he quickly pulled Zack into the shadows of a nearby lodge.

"Eben, what're you... "

"Shhh. Look there," the heron man whispered, pointing towards the fane. "Do you see what they've set up in the clearin'?"

A couple of Eben's fellow tribesmen were moving about within the fane, lighting torches planted in the ground. As the light grew, Zack saw an odd, arching construct placed in the midst of the sacred space and admired the workmanship that had obviously gone into it. He figured it must have taken someone many hours of patient work to gather and weave together so many different wildflowers into the curved wickerwork frame of thin green saplings that stood there.

"Yeah," Zack responded. "What is it?"

"It's more fun they mean to poke at us, I'm sure," Eben blushed fiercely. "When two men pledge themselves to one another, they publicly announce their joinin' by steppin' through an arch like that together, before their brother tribesmen. It's... quite a serious ceremony to the Elxa... "

"Like marriage?"

"Yes," Eben answered distractedly as he continued to study the arch and the area around it. "Actually, I'm surprised Tlaccotan would let them carry the joke this far. Like I said, it's a serious matter."

"Eben," Zack said as he turned the shorter man so that they could look into one another's eyes, "I can't deny I already feel something more than just friendship for you, and I think you have similar feelin's... "

"Zack, I... "

"Hush." Zack began, putting a big hand over Eben's mouth, feeling his fingers sinking into the soft beard that grew around the full lips. "In time, our feelin's may grow. But right now I think I can safely say that if I had to choose a mate on short notice, I'm not sure I could find a better man than you in the whole Elxa tribe, and I'd go through that arch feelin' proud and lucky and blessed if you'd agree to be there by my side."

Eben blinked. "You... you must have heard what I said... before we went to sleep earlier, in my cabin... "

"Yes. I heard what you said."

"And you think... I mean, we might... " Eben shook himself and turned away. "I'm babblin'. Sorry... "

"No, no," Zack murmured, urging his friend to face him again as he stroked Eben's beard gently. "Don't be."

"You've shattered me, Zack!" Eben began, the same strange orange gleam Zack had seen before showing in his eyes again, as the man looked up into Zack's face and confessed his inner feelings in a fierce whisper. "I know it's hard to believe, since I only met you a few hours ago, but now I can't imagine livin' without your touch!"

"No, it's not so hard for me to believe, Eben. Listen, you said you felt something for me the first time you saw me. Well, I had a similar feelin'. When I saw you the first time, lookin' up at me from Dan and Yves' garden, it felt like... well, like lightning strikin'!"

Eben was momentarily speechless, knowing he had felt something exactly similar. He was not sure how it had happened, or why, but he hoped he knew what it meant. He took ahold of himself and whispered.

"I hope... I hope you'll stay with me awhile, Zack, so we can let those feelin's grow. I... "

Zack stifled Eben's wish with a sudden, urgent kiss that said more than all their clumsy words ever could. A soul-kiss. A touching of spirits as well as of lips and tongues that the men became lost in, uncaring of anything else in the whole world...

"Ahem!"

The men fell apart in confusion at the unexpected interruption. Heyoka was standing nearby, looking at the pair in the same questioning way Zack remembered from their previous encounter. His eyebrows arched in amusement as he observed the men's disconcertion.

"Yes?" demanded Eben in a slightly more than annoyed voice.

"The feast is ready, Lone Wolf. Come." Heyoka paused momentarily to ogle Zack suggestively before going on. "That is, of course, unless you have found something better to eat!"

Zack's eyes widened and Eben growled, "Go on, you mangy coyote! Play your tricks somewhere else!"

"I was only trying to be helpful... " the heron man sniffed before he started to leave.

"Wait!" Eben ordered. As Heyoka turned back his fellow tribesman jabbed a finger at the arch. "Whose idea was that?"

"What? Oh!" Heyoka's jaw fell when he understood the reason for Eben's question. "You think we did that for you and Sun Bear?!" he exclaimed mirthfully.

The heron man began to laugh uproariously. Eben's eyes blazed and he trembled with suppressed anger, but Zack calmed him by placing a big hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently and reassuringly. When Heyoka recovered, he explained.

"It is not a joke on you and your friend, Lone Wolf. Katchikoa and Ho'va have finally decided to make their relationship official."

"Oh," Eben said sheepishly.

"Come and eat with us now, my brothers. There is elk meat for everyone." Heyoka grinned mischievously, unable to resist the opportunity for nettling Eben further by adding: "And perhaps for Lone Wolf there will be bear meat for dessert!"

"Why you... !" growled Eben as a snickering Heyoka turned to lead the way into the torchlit clearing. Its edges were beginning to be filled in by Elxa tribesmen, forming a large circle.

Zack and Eben were shown to a place that had been reserved for them. On one side was Tlaccotan and his partner, a handsome red-headed white man who introduced himself as Tavani. Zack could not help but notice Tavani's right hand was maimed. The index finger was missing and a red, circular scar marked the stump of the digit just above the knuckle.

On Eben and Zack's other side were the white elders, Dan and Yves. The pair greeted Zack warmly before gently thrusting at him and his companion by inquiring after Eben's health. They suggested a special salve that they believed would be an excellent medicine for any ass that had met up with Zack's ample manhood.

Some servers came around to offer the men drink. It was a light crimson fluid with a mild scent. Zack was surprised when he tasted the sweet, wine-like beverage.

"Some of our brothers have been brewin' beer and makin' wine here for many years," Eben explained. "Do you like it?"

"It's as good as any homebrew I've had before," Zack began, licking his lips. "Definitely better than most of the popskull grog they brew in some of the white settlements I've passed through."

Soon after, the promised elkmeat was brought on, roasted to a turn and served on wooden platters. Zack pulled out his knife and attacked his share when he observed the others doing likewise. He soon found there was a veritable ocean of vegetable-elk stew to go with the main course, as well as plenty of the native wine.

Once everyone's hunger had been appeased, Tlaccotan raised his hand and signaled the drummers. Again, the instruments' rolling beat filled the night-dark air, quieting the gathering. The chieftain stood to address the crowd, his ceremonial garb making him look resplendent in the flickering torchlight.

Zack felt Eben's hand slip into his and squeeze gently. He squeezed back and smiled, but continued to look at the heron leader. Tlaccotan began to recite in the Elxa tongue. Eben leaned closer and whispered a translation, his red-brown whiskers and hot breath tickling the insides of Zack's ear sensuously.

In the beginning, when all was new, the mountain god Zoraxte fell in love with the Heron Spirit who came to dwell in the lake of diamond waters...

Their love made the earth shake and its hidden springs erupt, creating this well-watered land, the refuge we call home, the valley of the heron, a home for all men who love men...

Their love was not barren, it made a strong son, the Green God, the spirit of the forests, patron of the deep, green places; a deity who shares our nature and protects all men who love men...

Like the gods who created, blessed and sustain this land, with the love of their male bodies, the Elxa also create whenever we love...

Our passions summon energies from the earth, we channel them through our conjoined bodies, transmuting them with our love, then send them back into our land...

Behold! The power returns to us again as life of all sorts: deer and alder, lupine and otter, eagle and starflower, cedar and carcajou, and so many more...

So it is with joy, my brothers, when I tell you this: two have decided to become one and make the arch-pledge! May their love continue to feed our land and deepen into wisdom, a knowing of their place in the world and the joy they bring to all whom they touch!

A pleased murmuring arose from the crowd as the heron chieftain finished his song. Tlaccotan nodded towards a quarter of the circle and Zack felt his heart quicken when he saw Mayati again. He was sitting among the musicians. He was one of several who lifted their flutes to their lips and begin to play a haunting tune, its power amplified by the number of instruments.

"It's the song of the heron," Eben whispered. "A sacred song, that's said to summon the spirits who guide the Elxa: the Heron Spirit, his lover, Zoraxte, their son, the Green God, and many others... "

"The Spirit-Wolf too?" Zack whispered back, his eyes still lingering on Mayati, so that he did not notice the sudden surprise and apprehension that crossed Eben's face fleetingly. "I'd like to see that one."

As the magical music filled the clearing, inviting forces unseen to join in the Elxa's ritual, Zack saw Heyoka rise and begin to circle the quietly murmuring gathering. He was carrying two exquisite chaplets, apparently woven from the bunches of purple and white starflowers Zack had seen Heyoka gathering earlier. Zack guessed they were for the men who were about to be joined.

Soon Heyoka had moved out of Zack's line of sight and passed behind him and Eben. A sudden collective gasp went up from the group as Heyoka paused ever so briefly to hold the flowery crowns out over Zack and Eben's heads. Eben at once twisted around to look daggers at the snickering busybody as he moved away and Zack attempted to calm his friend again with a hug, eliciting more whispers from the onlooking crowd of man-lovers.

"Lone Wolf must change his name now!" cried a bold voice from the opposite side of the circle.

"Yes!" came an answer from another tribesman. "Perhaps he should now be called 'Wolf-who-eats-Bear'!"

Raucous laughter convulsed the crowd as Eben turned to Zack. "Looks like we're not goin' to hear the end of this anytime soon, big fella," Eben whispered through a grin. An odd feeling came over Zack then and he whispered back.

Let them mutter, Let them cry out, Let them voice their jealousy In any tone they please; It doesn't effect The way I feel (So good!) when you are by my side...

"Zack!" Eben exclaimed. "You sang to me!"

"I don't know how... it just sort of happened when I heard your voice... "

"Sun Bear!" began Tlaccotan, who had heard him also. "You have made the soul-music for the first time! We believe it is a blessing upon those who heard you."

On their other side, Yves and Dan also whispered their congratulations and thanks for Zack's unintended blessing. At the same time, Heyoka reached the pledged couple and placed the crowns on their heads. Zack could see that the pair of natives were clad only in loincloths as they arose and approached the arch.

One was wiry and darkly, broodingly handsome. The uneven white line of an old and lengthy scar marred the coppery skin of his left shoulder. His companion was broadly muscular, with intense eyes, black and shining, like chips of polished obsidian. When they got close to the arch, they paused before it, looking expectantly at Tlaccotan.

"You both come before us of your own free will?" the chieftain asked.

"Yes," they replied together.

"Is there anyone here who opposes this union?"

Silence reigned for several tense moments.

"Go though the arch, my brothers," the Elxa chief smiled. "Enter as two, exit as one."

Cheers went up from the crowd as the pair stepped through, hand in hand, and kissed openly and deeply. More flowers flew to pelt the men, as Zack and Eben had been pelted earlier. But this time Zack could tell it was not a joking affair.

Then Zack's brow wrinkled questioningly. He watched as Katchikoa and Ho'va carefully laid aside their crowns and knelt on a colorful blanket that had been spread out in the midst of the clearing. Then they reached and began to loosen one another's loincloths.

"Are they gettin' ready to do what I think they're goin' to do?" Zack whispered to Eben.

"Yes. It is seldom done, but sometimes a couple makes a public declaration of their love."

"Oh," Zack returned, sounding relieved. "So it isn't mandatory."

"No. Why?"

"Er... " Zack blushed. Eben chuckled, spurring him to go on. "I'm just askin'. I'm not plannin' a wedding or anything, mind you. Not yet, anyway... " He looked at Eben and finally smiled. "But I know I'd have to love someone an awful, powerful lot to do something like that in front of so many people." Zack nodded at the newly-pledged couple who were lying on their sides in a 69 position, sucking one another's rigid cocks before the eyes of the now-quiet crowd.

"There are so many things you, a stranger among us, might have said about this sacred ritual that would have been wrong, Sun Bear," Tlaccotan began, sounding impressed. "But your wise words show you to be worthy of the glyphstone you wear, and of our brotherhood."

It was almost midnight by the time Eben and Zack left Roman Rock to begin the return trip to Eben's cabin. Despite the inky darkness of the mountain forests, broken only by occasional sightings of starlight through the overhanging boughs, Eben led the way confidently. Zack figured Eben knew the route by heart. But Zack could have found his way on his own. The uncanny night vision he possessed showed him every detail of the darkened woods around them clearly.

It was yet another manifestation of the curse HE had lain on Zack. Zack had to admit that the ability to see in the dark was useful, on occasion. But at that particular moment it only served to remind him why he had sought out the Elxa in the first place.

"How far is it to the cave of mysteries?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence that lay between them. The hurt look that marred Eben's face briefly sobered Zack a bit.

"Are you in a hurry to leave?"

Zack felt sure Eben had forced himself not to add 'me' to the end of his question.

"No, of course not. Why?"

"Well, once I deliver you to Falling Star, I'll probably have to leave. He'll send you on a vision quest, and traditionally, that's something just between you and the shaman. I'd just be in the way. Most likely I... I wouldn't be seein' you again for awhile... "

"I understand. But I came here for a reason Eben. You've almost made me forget about it, but it's something I must deal with."

"Why are you here?"

"Please don't ask me that, Eben. It's a... a terrible thing, almost more than I can bear to think about."

Eben noted the pained expression on his friend's face and said nothing. Instead, he took Zack's hand in his as they continued walking along in the darkness. It was a silent pledge of support.

"Do you remember my nightmare?" Zack asked at length, quietly.

"Yes."

"I saw... " he involuntarily paused, shuddering at the memory.

"You don't have to explain it to me, Zack." Eben's eyes glittered orange in the dim light, like an animal's, as he spoke. "Tell your story to Falling Star when you see him. He's a very wise man. He helped me, and whatever your problems are, I seriously doubt that they are worse than mine were."

Zack wondered at Eben's words. "What do you mean?"

"There are... things... I've done and experienced in the past that I'm not particularly proud of. I suppose that's why I've lived alone for so long. If I had a partner, I'd have to tell him about my past, but I'm not sure anyone would really understand and accept what I've gone through, what it's done to me... " Eben's voice became smaller in the darkness, as he spoke his inner fear. "The truth about me might frighten you away from me."

Nonplussed, Zack looked wonderingly at the gentle man he had come to cherish, unable to imagine what he could have done that would be so horrible. "But, all that's in the past, right? So why would it be important now?"

"Because my past is always with me."

The only thing Zack could think of that would be so awful was that Eben must have killed someone, but he shook his head and murmured, "I don't understand."

"I'll make you a deal," began Eben, sighing. "When you've seen Falling Star and let him put your mind at ease, I'll tell you my story. If it doesn't scare you off, then maybe we... "

"Okay, it's a deal, little buddy," Zack sighed back, as he spotted Eben's home ahead in the darkness. "We're here," he added.

Eben glanced in the direction of his cabin and then back at Zack in mild surprise. "You must have the eyes of a cat!" he remarked.

With that the heron man went the last dozen yards or so up to the door and pushed it open. He went to the table and, striking a match, lit a candle. As the light grew Zack excused himself to take a piss and stepped back outside the cabin, inwardly kicking himself for his slip of the tongue.

It had all started that way back home. A wrong word here, an unintended display of strength there, and soon the people around Zack realized he had changed, become different: stronger, faster, able to see in the dark, hear things from far away, and more. Leery of him, even his own family had begun to fear and shun him.

Zack then had gone to the Wasnai, who owed him a debt. But even they feared what he had become. Their shaman had suggested he seek the Elxa, who were reputed to understand supernatural phenomena, as well as sharing Zack's man-loving nature.

After only a few days in the valley of the heron, Zack was convinced there was some kind of powerful, invisible force there that the Elxa communed with. He prayed that Falling Star could use it to cure or exorcise him, not for his sake alone now, but for Eben's as well. Zack knew he and Eben could have no real chance of a future together as long as he continued to be haunted by the amorphous spirit he knew only as HIM.

Zack had already acknowledged to himself how deeply Eben moved him. He had never been in love before, and he was not really sure yet if he was falling in love now. But he was sure of one thing: whatever these feelings were that Eben was evoking within him, they felt very good, very right, almost sacred...

The sound of the door of the cabin opening behind Zack broke his reverie and he fumbled with the buttons of his fly. Zack had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he had forgotten why he had gone outside. Suddenly Eben was standing next to him in the darkness, holding out the pale length of his cock.

"Ahh... " Eben sighed as a second stream of piss leapt into the cool night air. Wisps of vapor rose from the arcs.

"Hey! Watch where you're pointin' that thing! You got my boots wet!"

"Sorry."

Eben apologized in a way that sounded insincere to Zack, as if he had meant to do it. With a twitch of his fingers, Zack paid him back with a portion of his own stream. It splattered with a hollow sound on Eben's boots. To Zack's surprise, Eben did not object. In fact, he grinned mischievously, his eyes flashing a feral orange again in the darkness.

"You know, some animals mark their territory that way. You stakin' a claim on me?"

Zack leaned down to nuzzle the shorter man's ear wordlessly, before giving it a quick lick. Eben chuckled softly. The sound of his amusement floated on the cool night air.

"You're a horny bear. I like that."

Zack tensed up again when he heard Eben say 'bear', but recovered quickly.

"I like you, little buddy," he responded simply and sincerely as they finished pissing. Zack noticed when Eben did not bother to put his rapidly hardening cock away.

"Come on, big fella," Eben growled. He grabbed Zack by his belt and pulled the unresisting man into the cabin with more strength than Zack would have expected from a man Eben's size. It was just as well that Eben had no near neighbors, for the noises the two rutting men made for the next couple of hours might have been objected to.

It was the glitter of morning sunlight slanting in through a window that coaxed Zack to awaken. His emerging consciousness sleepily considered the state he found himself in: with another man's nude body pressed deliciously against his. It was something he felt he could easily get used to experiencing every morning, especially if the body in question belonged to Eben.

Holding still, Zack relished the different sensations that came to him. He felt the warm length of Eben's half-hard cock wedged between his buttcheeks and the man's furry arms gripping his midsection loosely. Eben's chest fur was smashed and meshed scratchily with the hair on Zack's back and the heron man's warm, regular breathing stirred the hairs on the back of Zack's neck gently.

Eben's scent filled Zack's nostrils, intoxicatingly manly. There was something of the musk of an animal of the deep woods in it, rich and damp, fresh like the waters of the pond before his home. Even given his heightened senses, Zack wondered that he could smell so much in it, especially when the spicy scent of their mingled sweat and dried semen was equally as strong. Eventually nature began to call and Zack reluctantly began to wiggle free of his friend's more-than-comfortable grasp.

Still half-asleep, Eben groaned plaintively and rolled into the warm hollow Zack's body had left in the bed. As Zack headed for the door he spotted a calendar hanging on the wall. Its humorous illustration, showing a man and a horse in bed together, advertised a patent medicine that evidently was a panacea for both man and beast. 1867 was emblazoned across the top in large, ornate block lettering.

Zack noticed that Eben had circled one day out of every week in the current month of August on the sheet. Curious, he lifted the paper and saw the following months had been similarly marked. Zack wondered idly what it meant as he reached for the latch of the door.

Zack peered suspiciously out as he slowly opened the front door of Eben's cabin, half-expecting to be pelted with wildflowers again. But there were no humans in sight. Instead what he saw was unexpected, eerie even, a surprising change in the atmosphere all around.

A thick, white fog writhed above the pond, sending out pale tendrils of mist that trailed across the surrounding land, through the tree branches, and right up to the doorway of the cabin. The dull light from the shrouded sun transformed everything into flat gray shadows. The dew was icy beneath Zack's bare feet as he stepped outside.

As he relieved himself, steam curled upward from the liquid arc to merge with the morning fog. The man marvelled at how different everything looked mantled in the shifting shroud of white as he finished up. Zack strode to the edge of the nearby pool and waded into it, roiling the mists as his nude form moved through them.

His movements disturbed something standing in the rippling waters, a vague form that, when he saw it, was only a darker shade of gray than the cloying vapors that curled around it. In an instant, it seemed to triple in size as huge wings unfurled and beat the foggy air. A great blue heron rose before the man and disappeared into the mists, leaving its eerie cry to echo across the pond.

"Forgive me," Zack whispered in an effort to make amends to the avatar of the Heron Spirit.

Finding a deep enough spot, Zack laid himself in the warm waters to soak himself. It was not long before Eben came out to join him, yawning hugely and stretching. Zack watched his friend with interest as he stood on the shore and moved, reaching upward into the mists, clutching at shadows. The heron man's muscles rippled under hairy flesh.

"Are you showin' off for me?" he called.

"Maybe," came the happy-sounding reply as Eben waded towards him. Zack watched the way his friend's plump cock swung as he moved and felt a sudden dryness in his throat.

"After last night, you don't need to," Zack murmured before rising to kiss Eben.

As the sun climbed higher it burned off the early morning fog and its rays shone down upon the men while they washed the sweat and dried cum off each other's bodies. However, the memories of the previous night could not be so easily rinsed away, as evidenced by the gentle ways the men touched and talked. Their actions showed plainly that a deeper connection had been forged between them.

When they were clean the men went back inside the cabin and dried off with some old flour sacks Eben used as towels. After they were dressed, Eben produced some jerked deermeat for breakfast and the pair ate together before setting out for the cave of mysteries. Soon they were following a different trail from the one they had taken to and from Roman Rock. This one led away from the Elxa settlement, to the east, toward the lofty ridges of the permanently snowclad mountains that loomed in that direction.

Eventually the trail reached Heron Creek and joined another that paralleled the stream. Eben explained as they went that the creek drained a major portion of the Elxa's lands, before it finally flowed into the Umpqua, somewhere upstream from the site of the talking stone. As they followed the creek's torturously twisting course, the land began to rise.

The gravelly trail crossed and recrossed the creek, following the least rugged contours of the country. Red clover, azure lupines and the tiny yellow wildflowers called Johnny jump-ups grew in aromatic clusters along the path's edge and between the trees and rocks. Zack also saw more of the white and purple varieties of starflowers, like those he had seen Heyoka collecting for the joining ceremony. The sight reminded him of questions he still had about them.

"Eben, what do you know about starflowers? Mayati told me a little about them, and the green one I found was supposed to be, well, magic, but not much more."

"Well," the heron man began, "their uses depend upon the color of the flower. The white and purple kinds are used in rituals, the yellow and blue are used as medicines."

"What about the red and brown ones? I saw those colors in Heyoka's basket yesterday. And Mayati and I smoked some dried leaves of the red one once."

Eben grinned. "The red ones 'put lead in your pencil'," he chuckled. "I've heard a man can 'go all night' after drinkin' a tea made from those flowers. If you smoke them the effect isn't as intense."

"Huh!"

"May I ask if the smoke worked?"

"Yeah, it did," Zack muttered, recalling his first night making love to Dan and Yves. Eben smiled and went on.

"The brown ones are used in cleansing rituals. Other colors have, well, rather curious properties."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like the green kind, I guess you might think their effects were magical, if I described them."

"Really?"

"Once I drank a tea made from an orange starflower as part of a tribal ritual. I was told it would evoke a medicine vision for me, and it did."

"What did you see?"

"The most powerful protective totems of the Elxa, the Heron Spirit, Zoraxte and the Green God, all came to me together and asked me to... " Eben suddenly paused.

"What did they ask you?"

"I'm sorry Zack, I can't tell you, not now anyway. After you see Falling Star, then, maybe... "

Assuming Eben's vision was too personal for him to share, Zack let his curiosity about it go, along with his inquiries about the starflowers. He turned his attention back to the lush natural beauty that surrounded them both. He noted then how the many plants provided fodder for the myriad insects of the air.

Colorful butterflies, large and small, lilted at random along the miry banks of the creek, like broken bits of rainbows borne along on the breeze. Dragonflies, cuirassed in metallic green and bold orange armor, darted like insect daredevils as close as they dared above the water's surface, leaving tiny wakes. Lazily droning bumblebees and their industrious honey making cousins methodically explored every fragrant blossom, seeking their stores of pollen and nectar.

Several times, Zack spotted the Elxa's curling glyph carved into stones that seemed to rise from the earth along the path as naturally as the wildflowers that surrounded them. Unconsciously he would finger the pendant he wore, tracing the design on it and wondering if he would ever truly understand the mystery it represented, the Way of the Heron, as the Elxa called it. Then Zack would glance at Eben and feel as if he did know, in a way beyond articulation.

As the men traveled deeper into the valley of the heron, they came to the first of a series of waterfalls. Each dropoff marked a spot where an ancient seismic event had thrust great sections of basalt or granite to the surface of the earth. The elements were still patiently working on smoothing out these obstructions. Behind each cascade the men found, as they climbed, a shining pool.

In each one they were sure to find herons fishing or preening their dusty blue plumage. Families of otters could be seen frisking at the water's edge, as intent on playing as they were on seeking food. Those and the other animals living nearby seemed unconcerned by the presence of the humans who traveled past their watery sanctuaries.

Each pond was surrounded by a wide variety of trees shimmering various shades of green in the daylight. The rugged branches of the sugar pines were weighed down with their huge cones, some as large as loaves of bread. The needles of the white pines gathered in starlike bunches at their twig tips, glinting a unique silvery-green in the sunshine.

Young cedars held out fanlike branches that rivaled the most delicate lacework. Their elders looked more down-at-heel, ragged with strips of sagging bark. At their bases, blue clematis and coral honeysuckle climbed haphazardly over thorn and other bushes to get their fragrant blossoms up into the clean mountain air. Elsewhere, wild tiger lilies nodded their glamorous heads above homely clumps of coarse bracken ferns.

Zack counted five of these small, forest-bound lakes before he stopped, influenced by the solemn beauty of a country that was beyond man's power to quantify. The pair were moving through the landscape not just in a physical sense, it seemed. A feeling of peaceful contemplation grew in Zack as he walked along at an easy gait beside Eben, often hand in hand.

Time seemed to have little meaning in the valley of the heron. The shadows of the trees moved, that was all. And Zack came to sense a living force running all through his new surroundings, shining invisibly from the rocks, sky, and water. It teasingly played at the edges of his human consciousness, letting itself be perceived, but not revealing itself either. Perhaps it only let fully fledged members of the Elxa tribe see it in all the green and vital glory Zack was sure it possessed.

"It is a beautiful country, isn't it?" Eben asked quietly, breaking the silence after a long time.

Zack stopped. "How'd you know what I was thinkin'?"

Eben turned to smile at him. "If you weren't the sort of man I believe you to be, you wouldn't have been moved by all this." Eben gestured easily, indicating their surroundings. "Would you like to hear another song? It's part of a longer one I was taught by an tribal elder, a close friend of mine named Xaculi, about the Elxa's land. I'm still tryin' to translate it into a form of English that does it full justice."

"Okay."

...far from the homes of men, lost between icy mountaintops and hidden lakes, the Elxa dwell:

In ancient forests flush with game, lush with healing plants, the home of friendly spirits who wish their human kindred well;

Beside rushing streams and crystal waterfalls full of fish and fishermen, heron, otter, human...

We take with thanks what we need from the bounty of this sacred land, to feed and clothe our bodies and build our shelters;

But above all we feed our souls on the beauty of our homeland and know in our hearts a thankfulness beyond words...

"Yes," Zack began when Eben finished, taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air, looking again at the landscape Eben had praised. "Yes."

"Yes," Eben echoed. He smiled and took his friend's hand as they started walking again, not needing any more words.

Once, a brief, but heavy, shower interrupted their journey. As the rain slackened, the men stepped out from beneath a great hemlock they had taken shelter under. The sunlight returned, pushing violently past the receding edge of a slate-colored bank of clouds which flew towards the mountains to the eastward. Thunder muttered and lightning flashed over the distant, lofty ridges, gleaming with ice and snow that never melted.

"Zoraxte is constantly bein' struck by lightning," Eben said, pointing towards the Elxa's sacred mountain as another livid bolt lit up the sky. "The storytellers say it's because the spirits of wind, rain and thunder are jealous. They don't like havin' to share the sky with him."

With the return of the bright golden sunlight every dripping leaf and blade of grass sparkled surrealistically. The wet stones in the path they had been following shone like the stream that flowed past them, showing unexpected subtleties of jewel-like color. Eben had said nothing about the sudden storm, so Zack supposed that such weather was not unusual in the valley of the heron.

Not long after, as the sun was lowering into the west, Eben led the way across Heron Creek. As the heron man was saying he knew a good place to stop and spend the night, a bit of color in the water caught Zack's eye. He knelt to pick it up.

"Eben, what's this?"

He turned to look and see what Zack had found. It was a short stick, its ends cleanly cut off, with purple-stained notches carved along its length. Human hands had obviously made the colorful object. Eben smiled as he recognized it.

"It's a talking-stick. There are many kinds, each carryin' a different message. This one says that someone's on a play-journey." Seeing puzzlement in Zack's amber eyes, Eben went on. "The heron men use these sticks to communicate with others along the river."

"I can understand that," Zack began, "but what's a 'play-journey'?"

"Oh," grinned Eben. "It's when an Elxa travels through the valley of the heron lookin' for other tribesmen to, er, play with... "

"Sort of like what we've been doin', huh?"

Zack was surprised by the effect his offhand comment had. Eben's brown eyes narrowed for a split second in what he had come to recognize was anger - or was it pain? - before the heron man recovered himself. However, those orbs continued to glint with the same strange sparks of orange light Zack had seen before as Eben replied evenly.

"Perhaps. But I'm not sure I'm just playin' games when it comes to you, big fella."

Zack was already kicking himself for his thoughtless remark as he started following Eben again. Eben had already made his feelings clear and Zack should not have joked about them, even if Zack was not yet completely sure about how he felt himself. But as Zack watched his guide move surely along the gravelly trail, he felt an inward warmth, something more than mere desire, and wondered at it.

He thought he should say something, to try and repair the damage he had caused, but what? Then Zack remembered the first part of his recent nightmare. In it, he had said something to the dream image of Eben and he tried to recall it.

"Eben, oh, Eben, my little buddy, you handsome, strong, gentle man," he spoke under his breath, practicing for the time when Zack would say it aloud, "I'm sorry. I want you to know I've been lookin' for a man like you for a long, long time. Too damn long... "

Up ahead, Eben suddenly stiffened and hesitated, as if he had been distracted by something. He turned and looked at Zack, his strange eyes continuing to glint shards of orange light, and it seemed as if he wanted to say something. But with a visible effort, he stopped himself and instead just gestured for Zack to follow.

Even as Zack wondered if Eben could possibly have heard his softly spoken words, sudden sunlight dazzled his eyes and distracted Zack. The forest thinned and ended abruptly, and Zack paused as he came out of the shadows of the trees. He saw that this clearing along a widening of Heron Creek was only one corner of a roughly triangular mountain meadow that seemed to go on for as far as the eye could see as it spread northward, rising gently away from the creek.

A great expanse of knee-high grass waved in the breeze, growing thickly and lushly across the meadow. A small stream meandered through this great field, joining Heron Creek above yet another waterfall. The pool that swirled and sparkled at that point was deep and inviting, beckoning to the travelers without words.

They put down their packs in the campsite there, one of many Zack learned the Elxa maintained throughout their lands. An ample lean-to stood nearby in the shade of a huge fir, a covering of skins stretched over the north side of its prism-shaped frame. Spreading out a blanket before the simple shelter, they gathered wood to build a fire for later and then went to swim in the nearby pool. The water was warm and Zack soon spotted a steaming rivulet flowing into the pool, the overflow from another of the valley's ubiquitous hot springs.

One thing led to another, and soon the men were splashing each other and horsing around with all the joy of carefree children. When Zack finally caught Eben (or did Eben let Zack catch him?), he threw the smaller man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried him out of the water. Zack held Eben in place firmly by one buttcheek, his middle finger digging sensuously into Eben's tender hole.

The sweet stimulation elicited heartfelt groans of passion from Zack's more-than-willing captive. Lowering Eben gently onto their blankets, Zack initiated an intense bout of love-making that left both men panting and spent. Snuggling their still-damp bodies together, they dozed under the warm rays of afternoon sunlight.

Zack did not know how long he had been awake when he noticed he and Eben were not alone in their camp. He became aware of a presence and looked to see a tall man who was watching them from the edge of the nearby forest. In the deep shade between the trees, it was hard to make out his features. Zack could tell he was naked and aroused though, his hard penis swaying gently outward from his loins like the bough of a tree in the breeze.

Zack rose from the blankets slowly, not wanting to disturb Eben. His own cock was rapidly hardening again as he approached and studied the stranger. His high cheekbones and smooth chin and body led Zack to conclude he was a native. That he was friendly was confirmed when Zack saw the Elxa glyphstone he wore.

Silently, the man beckoned, then turned and stepped deeper into the woods. Zack followed, feeling his passions rising as he did so. It was difficult to tell under the heavy shade of the trees, but the man's skin seemed odd. It was dark, but not in the same way that Mayati's or the other natives Zack had met were. The man stopped beneath an enormous myrtle tree and smiled at Zack. His teeth were brilliant, like fresh water pearls.

His dark hands reached out to touch Zack's hairy chest, stroking the pale fur in obvious delight. Looking into Zack's gold flecked amber eyes, the man moved his hands to Zack's shoulders and ever so gently pushed the white man to his knees. His dark member swayed suggestively before Zack's lips. Zack opened his mouth and took the man's rigid penis into himself slowly.

It was always new, this tactile delight that Zack reveled in. The hot, hard, smooth, flavorfulness, moving determinedly against his tongue and lips, seeking its liquid release. It still felt good and right, just like when his uncle had fed Zack his first cock.

Zack saw that seminal event in his life again in his mind: the dim interior of the family barn, shot through with stray shafts of afternoon sunlight, the sound of his uncle's overall snaps being undone, the revelation of a naked, hairy, masculine body as the garment fell, his uncle's hard cock pointing at him, the voice that spoke as hands reached and guided Zack closer. 'C'mon, boy... ' The incredible smell and taste and feel of hard, warm manflesh, moving determinedly in his mouth, and the tangy, intoxicating, spurting finish that Zack instantly knew he would have to have again as he swallowed and swallowed, a fulfilling sensation he never would be able to live without from that moment on...

Stroking himself, sucking off the handsome stranger, Zack relived that distant first time in all its lost, bittersweet innocence, and came. His jism sprayed across the bare feet of the man before him. Then, for the first time, the stranger made a sound: a groan that sounded like the falling of a great tree in the forest, and came as well.

His essence blasted across Zack's tongue, burning with a strange savor unlike any the man had ever before experienced. He swallowed the gouts of sweetness, redolent of tree sap and the fresh waters of Heron Creek. As the pulses driving the man's orgasm slowed and stopped, Zack looked up.

The man seemed transfigured. He was looking down at Zack with intensely green eyes that glowed with a lambent radiance. A new light shone from somewhere beyond Zack's understanding and he saw that the being had green skin. His hair was grass and fine vines with tiny ivy leaves trailing thickly across his shoulders and down his mossy back. His legs and feet, still stained with Zack's cum, were dotted with small clumps of rich, black earth, veined with tiny, white rootlets.

"The Green God... " Zack managed, recognizing the Elxa spirit.

The conscious embodiment of all life in the valley of the heron solemnly lifted an arm and pointed to the east. Zack turned to look at what the godling wanted to show him. Zoraxte loomed, too close to be real, above the pool that Zack and Eben had so recently cavorted in.

A great blue heron arose from the swirling waters, too big to be an ordinary bird, and its eyes confirmed that for Zack: they were great, shining orbs of rolling lavender flames, the light from which Zack somehow knew was sustained by the love of the entire Elxa tribe. Then the god-bird unfurled its wings. Shockingly huge, they seemed to reach across miles and miles, sheltering the lands of the Elxa. It spoke to him, and Zack knew then what it was.

"Welcome, my new brother!" The Heron Spirit spoke in a voice that made Zack think of the sound of the native flute he had heard Mayati playing when they first met.

Without further comment, the Heron Spirit ascended into the sky, swinging towards the sacred mountain. But the mass of rock and ice Zack had seen only a few moments before had been replaced by a great black bear which stood erect on its hind legs. The god Zoraxte, his fiery eyes dripping tears of smoking, molten lava, roared, causing the earth underfoot to tremble.

"Welcome!" the god's voice thundered.

Whether the greeting was meant for Zack or as a joyous salute to Zoraxte's lover, the Heron Spirit who flew towards him, Zack was not sure. The man turned back to their child, the Green God. The godling gestured again, to the north, and again, Zack looked.

He saw a man he did not know, a white man in his mid twenties, perhaps, leading a laden pack mule away from a cabin. From the equipment Zack could see being carried by the mule, he guessed the man was a prospector. He wore an old, broad-brimmed gray hat and his long red hair and beard fell down in brilliant waves from beneath it.

Zack looked back at the Elxa divinity questioningly, but he only continued to point. When Zack looked again, he saw a different man. This one's long hair and beard were dark brown and he was about the same age as the first man. He too was leading a pack mule, but towards the cabin Zack had noted. He seemed to be perhaps a couple of days away from it.

Further away, two men, a middle-aged Indian and a white man who looked to be about the same age as Zack and Eben, were traveling as well. As Zack watched, the native, who was wearing an Elxa glyphstone, paused and glanced in his direction. It took a moment or two before Zack realized he was actually looking at the Green God.

Something unspoken passed between the nature spirit and the heron elder, who nodded. With a few words to his white companion, the native began walking in a new direction. The pair now also seemed to be heading towards the cabin that was the hub of some sort of activity.

Zack turned back to the Green God, hoping for an explanation. He did not know what to make of the things the deity was showing him. But what Zack saw was only a last fading glimpse of the apparition as the woodland spirit vanished like a mist, dissolving and being absorbed into the large myrtle tree that stood behind him.

"Wait! Tell me... "

"...tell you what?" asked Eben.

Zack opened his eyes at those words, blinking at the change in scenery. Darkness had fallen and it had become a fine, clear, starry night. He looked up. Orion seemed to dominate the entire sky.

Eben was kneeling beside the firepit, his face lit by the flames. He had donned his pants and boots, but left his shirt on the blanket the pair had shared. He came over and placed a hand on Zack's chest, feeling the racing heart within. When the initial confusion passed and Zack realized what had happened, he told his friend about his dream.

"The Green God!" Eben exclaimed with obvious awe. "He gave you his seed and it sparked a vision. It's something else you must tell to Falling Star when you see him." Eben kissed Zack reassuringly and then went back to tend the food he was cooking, adding over his shoulder: "Dinner's almost ready, come and eat."

"Eben," Zack began as he came over and sat next to his friend, caressing Eben's hairy back gently, "I want to apologize for what I said earlier. When I found the talking-stick."

"It's okay... "

"No, it's not. I hurt your feelin's back there, and I'm sorry. I want you to know I think you're a very special guy. And I keep wonderin' if you might be the man I've been lookin' for, the one man that I could share my life with... "

"Zack," Eben started, moving quickly to place his hand over Zack's mouth, stilling the hairy lips. "My heart is so full of you I can't trust myself to put it into words. For now, let's just be together, okay?"

"Okay, little buddy."

They shared a lingering kiss, a silent promise of more to come later that night, before turning their attention to dinner.

The next morning the men began another day of walking. Zoraxte's imposing bulk loomed ever closer as they moved eastward. As the sun passed its zenith, the trail branched and the pair left off following the north side of Heron Creek to take a steep slant up a rocky path that clung to the side of an uplift of dark, corrugated rock.

As the men climbed, Zack looked up and saw another human being in the distance. He was standing on a rocky outcrop that must have commanded a splendid view of the surrounding country. His long black hair flew in the wind and he was wrapped in a brilliant violet blanket, knotted in place at one shoulder like an odd sort of serape.

Zack raised his hand. The remote figure did likewise, acknowledging his salute. Eben noticed and looked at the man also.

"It's Falling Star," he began. "I'll have to leave you soon, Zack, and I don't know how to say goodbye to you."

"Don't say anything, Eben, just listen. No matter what happens here, I promise I'll come back to you. Then we can share our secrets and figure out where we can go from there."

Eben nodded his agreement to the bargain. Zack thought he saw another orange glint in the man's brown eyes flare briefly, making him wonder. But then the trail suddenly leveled off and Zack looked away, taking in as much as he could of the spacious plateau they had arrived at.

A cabin built partly of stone and partly of logs stood nearby, with a stable attached to its back. A clearing of sorts, a rough meadow of hardy mountain grass with odd, knee-high stones protruding from the earth here and there to peek over the waving green, spread away to the north. It encompassed several acres and was bounded on the west and north by a dense forest, mostly composed of evergreens. Two animals were grazing in the rocky field, a scar-faced sorrel horse and a droop-eared mule.

A small stream, a tributary of Heron Creek, wound lazily through the field. Zack's eyes followed the rivulet easily to its source. To the east, an almost sheer cliff of stone rose from the earth some twenty feet or so in the air before arcing away in a succession of cliffs that melded into one of the flanking ridges of Zoraxte.

The face of this rock wall was broken by two gaps. From one gushed a steaming stream of water, a thermal vent, which fell into a large, stone-lined pool that had been dug out and improved. Zack imagined it would be quite relaxing to soak in those hot waters. The overflow from that pool fed the rivulet that flowed through the rocky field.

The other gap was a black, jagged opening. Zack recognized it at once as the entrance to the cave he had glimpsed in his earlier nightmare. The outcrop Zack had seen from below projected out for some distance from the cave's maw and the Elxa shaman advanced to meet the travelers from his vantage point.

Zack gasped when he got a good look at the man. He seemed to be the same man Zack had spoken with in the medicine dream he had experienced in Mayati's camp, and had seen again briefly in his nightmare. Eben started to introduce him.

"Falling Star, this is... "

" ...Sun Bear, I know. Welcome. I have been told of your coming by many, my son."

Falling Star ignored the hand Zack proffered. Instead he stepped closer and placed his right hand inside Zack's open shirt, over his heart. The shaman's hand seemed to exude something more than body heat as it nestled in Zack's thick chest fur.

"Your spirit is strong, but troubled," he murmured. "Come, and we will speak."

Zack meant to turn and give Eben a farewell hug, but Falling Star's next words stopped him.

"Lone Wolf, you will take Sun Bear's belongings to the cabin and wait for us there."

"Uh, sure... okay... " Eben was surprised by the unexpected order, but was glad to obey.

"Follow me, Sun Bear."

Handing his pack, walking staff and rifle to Eben, Zack gave his friend a warm hug and a quick, fierce kiss as well before turning and following the Elxa shaman into the cave of mysteries. The passageway sloped gently downward and the men passed several niches gouged in the rock which held small stone lamps fueled by pungent animal fats. A quavering bubble of pale yellowish light surrounded each smoky tongue of flame. Falling Star spoke to Zack from somewhere ahead in the semidarkness, his voice echoing weirdly off the uneven walls.

"Lone Wolf was surprised by my request and so are you," the shaman remarked as they moved through alternating patches of inky darkness and dull light, casting fantastic shadows on the rough walls as they progressed deeper into the cave.

"I... er, yes," Zack managed. "Eben... er, Lone Wolf, told me you would want to be alone with me here."

Falling Star affected not to notice Zack's use of Eben's real name and the emotional bond it represented to the Elxa. "Ordinarily, that would be true, but my spirit guides have told me odd things about you, Sun Bear, and I may need Lone Wolf's help to guide you on your path to wisdom."

At last, the narrow passageway opened into a roughly hemispherical chamber and Zack looked around himself, amazed at how accurate his medicine dreams had been. The multicolored images he had seen were daubed there on the rugged walls, including the prominent one from his first medicine dream: the image of a white bear against a yellow sun disk. Falling Star sat at a firepit in the midst of the enormous, natural rock hollow and indicated that Zack should sit beside him, which he did.

Taking his time, the shaman picked up a pipe. It was a curious, long-stemmed affair, decorated with strange carvings and colors, as well as a single blue heron feather that dangled beneath the bowl. The elder filled the pipe, lit it with a burning twig from the fire and reverently placed it to his lips.

"Now, my son," Falling Star murmured, exhaling fragrant smoke, "tell me what has happened to you that has so sickened your soul."

Zack took a breath and began his story. "It all started four months ago. I'd gotten permission to hunt on the lands of the Wasnai, but I strayed into a part of their country I'd never been in before. I got lost. The sun was close to settin' and I was lookin' for a place to camp when I came upon a strange clearing in the forest.

"It was obvious someone tended to the place regularly, for there was a complex arraignment of rocks spread out across the ground. It was circular in plan and centered upon an old oak tree, a lofty giant. It was only much later that I learned what it was: a black medicine wheel, created by a native sorcerer, a worker of black magic, to mark a spot devoted to dark forces.

"But, ignorant of what the construct meant, I walked around it in curiosity, studyin' the odd figures outlined in stone. I'd already decided to sleep perched in a tree and considered the oak in the center of the mandala for a moment. But something warned me away from it and I chose another tree that grew at the edge of the clearing. I settled my body down into the vee formed by two large branches some twelve feet from the ground, wedgin' myself so I wouldn't fall out once I was asleep.

"A few hours must have passed, for it was pitch black when I was awakened by a sound. I opened my eyes and saw an Indian, the sorcerer who had built the black medicine wheel, bearin' a torch, standin' at the edge of the clearing. I was instantly alert, afraid to even breathe lest he hear me.

"But I needn't have worried, for the man was too intent on the task he'd come there to accomplish. He planted his torch in the ground at the perimeter of the strange circle and then stripped off his clothing. I watched in secret pleasure, for this was just the kind of thing I liked to see. I'd always, as long as I could remember, preferred the company of men, and I'd not been slow to learn the pleasures they could give, and that I could return, despite the disapproval of those desires by the society I'd grown up in.

"My eyes lustily drank in the sight of the sorcerer's dark, lithe body as he carefully began to walk towards the oak. His path was erratic as he stepped on some signs and avoided others. But the sum total of these movements led him to move in a counterclockwise spiral that led him ever inward, and eventually to reach the massive oak standin' at the center of the sacred circle.

"The brave had been carryin' something in his hand and he laid it on a rock altar that stood at the base of the tree. Then he knelt and raised his arms before beginnin' to speak in a singsong manner, apparently addressin' the oak. I couldn't understand his language, but as he spoke something odd began to happen.

"I began to feel oppressed, as if the air were becomin' too thick to breathe. The light from the torch dimmed. At first I thought it was burnin' out, but soon I realized that the light itself had been affected, as if it were strugglin' against something inimical to it buildin' up in the atmosphere.

"As the black of the night deepened in some unnatural manner, I heard a sound: the tramp of heavy footsteps and a low moanin' from something approachin' the medicine wheel. I looked in the direction of the noise, expectin' to see another man, or at least something with feet. But when the newcomer appeared, I was astonished, mystified and completely gripped by a cold terror.

"An animated column some eight feet tall and one foot wide came out of the forest. It appeared to consist of some lumpy, dead-gray substance, but was otherwise featureless. Nevertheless, I had the most peculiar feelin' of revulsion as I looked at it, as if I were watchin' the approach of a deadly reptile.

"Like the sorcerer, it spiraled its way in towards the oak, stretchin' and twistin' bonelessly as it moved, still moanin' weirdly, though I could see nothing like a mouth on the thing's body for the sound to be comin' from. It also phosphoresced coldly like some poisonous toadstool, givin' off a harsh, bloody, crimson light that had no trouble piercin' the preternatural darkness that had fallen over the immediate area. At last it stopped above the altar.

"Towerin' over the man, who continued to pray or sing to it, the column merely undulated and jibbered and glowed, bathin' him in its livid red light. But from the intense expression which possessed the sorcerer's face, I could tell that he was seein' something else before him, something awesome. Or awful.

"At last the sorcerer's incantation came to an end. He moved, reachin' into the base of the column that gyred and pulsed and glowed so unbelievably before him, over the stone altar. Its substance seemed to be as fine as air since he did not encounter any resistance that I could see.

"His hand fell to the stone altar and he picked up the object he'd laid there earlier. As he lifted it, I could see it was a necklace of bear claws separated by cowrie shells, glowin' with the same blood-red light that suffused the column. Its pendant parts made a hollow soundin' clackin' noise as the sorcerer slipped it on over his head.

"With a suddenness that shocked me, the scene before me was altered utterly in the blink of an eye. The animated column had vanished, also the oppressive atmosphere that made it hard to breathe and daunted natural light. The torch now lit up the whole area clearly, but what I saw by its glow made no sense.

"The sorcerer was gone. In the place where he'd been kneelin' there now sat a bear of prodigious size and strange coloration: its brown pelt was streaked down its back with a line or mane of black. I stared in astonishment as the beast, a werebear, rose to its feet.

"I wasn't afraid though. I thought I was safe so high up, though later I learned the werebear's strength was such that it could have pushed the tree I was hidin' in over easily, had it known I was there. No, what shocked me was the object I saw hangin' from the werebear's furry neck, an object that clacked hollowly as the unnatural beast moved. It was the necklace I had seen the sorcerer don only moments before.

"With a shufflin', rollin' gait, the werebear left the mandala and vanished into the surroundin' forest. At first I didn't know what to think, but I knew I had no choice but to remain where I was and wait until morning before I dared to leave the area. Eventually I fell asleep again.

"When I awoke again it was still dark, though I could tell from the grayish shadows that dawn was approachin'. I looked at the black medicine wheel and saw that the werebear had returned. It lay before the stone altar, feebly pawin' at its side and whimperin' piteously.

"I immediately saw the reason for its weakness. A dark stain had spread across its side and onto the ground beside it: a pool of blood. I assumed the creature had been shot.

"As I watched from my perch, and as dawn came, increasin' the light by slow degrees, the transformation I half expected to see began. By the time the sun finally peeped over the horizon, the beast had become a man, the same one I had seen earlier that night, the sorcerer. He saw me then and beckoned. Fool that I was, I climbed down from the tree and went to him.

"There were two bullet wounds in his side. I'd seen enough of guns and shootin's to know that he wouldn't survive. He must have realized that too, for he took the necklace off and held it to his side, besmearin' it thoroughly with his blood. Then he put it in my hand, closin' my fingers around it and grippin' my arm tightly.

"'Take it... ' he gasped through his pain, 'for HIM... '

"'Who are your people?' I asked, 'I can try and take you to them.'

"'We have no people... '

"'What do you mean... '

"With what proved to be his last ounce of strength, the sorcerer pulled my arm to his mouth and bit me. I yelled and cursed as I pushed him off, cradlin' the wound. His eyes were already glazin' over as his death approached, but he looked at me with his blind orbs and spoke his last words.

"'You belong to HIM now... '

"I looked at the dead man and uttered another curse. As if in answer to my profanity, a sudden breeze swept the clearing and again I heard the heavy tramp of approachin' feet and a low, eerie moanin'. I tried to get up, to flee, but some force I couldn't resist held me riveted to the spot.

"Again the ungodly gray-red column burst into the clearing, undulatin', chitterin' and glowin'. Regainin' its spot above the altar, the uncanny thing somehow took up the body of the sorcerer. The still-bleedin' corpse floated towards it and vanished before my eyes, as if it had been absorbed into the unnatural substance of this demonic creature the native had called 'HIM'.

"As HE towered over me, I felt a presence, something reachin' into my deepest being, changin' me. HE communicated without words, showin' me ghastly visions of creatures that haunted the night, huntin' with a vicious bloodlust, killin' for the pleasure of it and with a terrible ease, offerin' me the power to be like them. I passed out then, I'm sure, because the next thing I remember was wakin' up in the clearing with the sun high overhead.

"The first thing I did was look at my arm. To my intense relief there was no mark of any kind of a wound, convincin' me that I'd had an unusually vivid nightmare, nothing more. But as I got up, I saw the wide pool of coagulated blood that had bled from the sorcerer and, lyin' in its midst, the bloody bear claw necklace.

"Soon afterwards, I began to notice changes in myself. I grew a couple of inches taller and my muscles became more prominent. And it wasn't just show. I got stronger, as strong as four or five men put together, as well as faster and more agile.

"My body hair grew thicker and covered more of my skin. I could see in the dark, hear faint noises clearly, and my nose was as keen as a hound's. If that had been all there was to it, I'd have thought myself quite lucky, but then one morning I woke up in the woods, miles from home, naked and covered in blood.

"I learned later that a strange bear with pale blonde fur and glowin' golden eyes had attacked our neighbor's herd of cows, killin' a couple of them. I guessed at once what had happened. I went away by myself into the woods and found that by concentratin' I could become a werebear like the sorcerer had, but with all my human faculties intact. I tested myself, learnin' the limits of what that body could do, but I couldn't understand why the transformation had happened by itself, or why I had no memory of the experience.

"But when it happened again, I realized that about once a month I was unintentionally turnin' into a werebear and terrorizin' my community. And then the nightmares began. Again and again I saw HIM, comin' for me. It seemed that somehow HE was influencin' me from wherever it was HE dwelled, and I knew I needed help.

"But by that time, my friends and family had noticed the changes in me, and were becomin' afraid. I turned to the Wasnai, among whom I had friends, but they too were intimidated by what I had become. When I told this same story to their shaman, he said he knew the man I had seen.

"'He was an evil sorcerer,' he told me, 'trafficking in bad medicine. The curse of the demon he summoned is upon you. I believe you should seek out the Elxa. The members of that tribe are said to have a special understanding of supernatural phenomena and their natures are the same as yours as well. Perhaps they can cure you.'

"So I agreed to his advice and he gave me directions to find you. But as I traveled, just before I met Mayati, I transformed without meanin' to again. That time I only killed a deer, but what if next time it's a human, or worse, one of my friends?" Zack asked, feeling a sick pain inside at the mere thought of harming Eben. He went on in a pleading voice. "If you can help me, Falling Star, I'd be willin' to do anything to repay you... "

The Elxa shaman held up his hand and took his pipe from his mouth, blowing smoke as he spoke. "What else have you seen, Sun Bear?"

Zack then recounted all he had seen and heard in the medicine dream he had experienced in Mayati's camp.

"Ah," Falling Star began. "You spoke with my spirit-friend, the one who guards this cavern. He has spoken to me of you, in my dreams, often."

"Why did he appear to me lookin' like you?"

"Some spirits have no fixed form and appear in whatever shape they please," the shaman explained. "I'm sure he took my form so he could talk with you more easily."

"He said you would tell me more about the spirit wings. He said I should use them while makin' love, but bein' with Eben has been so intense, I didn't think about them again until now."

"You should not need to. Your desire, and Eben's, will draw each other's spirit wings together without your needing to think of it. I have no doubt you both have already generated a great deal of beneficial energy that will nourish all who dwell in the valley of the heron," the shaman smiled. "I promise I will explain further, my son, but later, after we have dealt with your problems. Have you seen anything else?"

Zack described his discovery of the green starflower and the casual wish he had later made before it. Falling Star's eyes narrowed. Zack felt as if he had done something wrong, and the elder's next words confirmed it.

"It is foolish to toy with forces one does not understand, Sun Bear. In your ignorance, you may have done unintentional harm, but I will speak more of this later. What else have you seen?"

Zack described the horrific nightmare that had come to him a couple of days later, in Eben's cabin. Falling Star continued to smoke, listening without giving any sign that he was. Then Zack went on to tell him of his odd dream in the camp along Heron Creek, describing the places and people he had seen, after his sexual encounter with a being he had been told was an Elxa deity.

"The Green God!" Falling Star nodded. "You have had a powerful vision, Sun Bear. I know only one of the men you saw for certain, my life-partner, Red Hand."

"I was wonderin' if you lived alone here."

"No," Falling Star smiled. "Besides Red Hand, we have another brother whose home is nearby. His name is Nizano, and he is my apprentice. I sent him on an errand to Roman Rock before you arrived. I knew you would want to keep the knowledge of your abilities restricted to as few persons as possible."

Zack looked grateful, but did not reply.

"Red Hand was bringing a man to the Elxa who, like yourself, shares our nature and has a problem of an uncommon nature."

"A problem like mine?"

"No," the shaman murmured. "Do not concern yourself with that. The man you saw with long brown hair and beard, I think I know, if he is the one I remember. I met him briefly last summer. It seems our tribe's spirits want Red Hand to visit these men. The reason why may be unclear for the present, but if it were not important, you would not have been shown these things, Sun Bear, so that you might tell me of them."

Falling Star took another pull on his pipe before speaking again.

"Is there nothing else?" he asked, expelling a cloud of fragrant smoke. Zack shook his head and the shaman went on. "It is obvious to me that you have developed feelings for Lone Wolf."

"Yes, I have," Zack answered.

"Does he have feelings for you?"

"Yes, he does. He's told me he loves me."

"Remember the wish you made?"

"Yes."

"It could be that Lone Wolf's feelings are being influenced by the power of your wish. The green starflower is not a medicine to be lightly invoked."

"You mean he might only think he's in love with me?" asked Zack, shocked.

"It is possible. If you are not sure how you feel about him, it would be cruel to leave him in love with you. He deserves a man who really cares for him."

"But I do care for him... "

"I care for all my Elxa brothers, Sun Bear," Falling Star replied gently. "But I love Red Hand."

"I think I see," Zack managed weakly as the shaman drew again on his odd pipe. Fragrant smoke flowed from his mouth and nostrils as he went on.

"I shall invoke the beneficent spirits that protect and guide the Elxa and have them undo what you did. Then I will tell Lone Wolf about your wish. That way Lone Wolf will be free to choose and follow his own path, so he can discover if his feelings for you are genuine or not."

"Alright," Zack agreed, looking miserable.

Falling Star placed his hand gently on Zack's shoulder.

"Do not be sad, my son. I suspect Lone Wolf will still play a large part in your future."

"I don't understand," Zack said, plainly puzzled by the shaman's words. "What does he have to do with why I'm here?"

"Perhaps a great deal," Falling Star responded mysteriously. "Tell me, how did you feel when you first met Lone Wolf?"

Zack proceeded to describe the odd sensations he had felt when he and Eben had first looked at each other. Falling Star listened closely. He nodded to himself knowingly as Zack finished speaking.

"It is as I thought," he began. "Listen, I know something of this nameless demon of whom you speak. HE is indeed evil, but the power HE gives does not need to be used for evil, nor does HE have any power over you, Sun Bear, unless you allow it."

"But the one who bit me said... "

"Forget that one. I know of him too. He built the black medicine wheel to summon this demon and served it willingly because he delighted in doing evil with the power HE granted. Believe me, the world is better off without him. He passed his powers on to you, why, I know not, but I do know that you are not evil, Sun Bear, nor are you a slave to this nameless demon."

Falling Star turned and picked up a leather pouch. Reaching inside he pulled out a piece of deerskin with writing painted on its smooth side for Zack to see. "The shaman of the Wasnai, one of the few men not of our nature whom we trust, sent word to me of the evil one's death, your misfortune, and how you were on your way to find the Elxa, hoping for our help."

Zack wondered how the letter could possibly have arrived before he had as the Elxa shaman reached into the pouch again and pulled out an object that sent fresh chills down Zack's spine. "Here," Falling Star said as he offered Zack the dead sorcerer's bear claw necklace. "Put this on."

"No!" Zack yelped, recoiling from Falling Star as if the shaman had offered him a poisonous snake. "I might transform and hurt you!"

"It is only a necklace, Sun Bear. Despite the wizardry you witnessed in the black medicine wheel, it has no power."

Gingerly, Zack took it in his hand. When nothing untoward happened, he slipped the rawhide loop over his head. With a soft clatter the necklace of claws and shells spread itself across the front of his buckskin shirt.

"It looks good on you," the shaman smiled. "Now, as to your unintended transformations, tell me, how often do you choose to become a werebear?"

"How often? Never, after the first time I tried it. Why would I want to be a werebear?"

"Ah," the shaman exclaimed, pointing his pipestem at Zack for emphasis. "You must understand, Sun Bear, that you cannot deny the power you now possess. If you do not use it, it will come out on its own, uncontrollably, as a mindless, killing thing, the very embodiment of the legends that are told about men who transform into animals. You must become a werebear at least once a week, or else, once in every month, you will be unable to prevent becoming the very thing you fear most: a mindless, slavering beast that will hunt and kill anything it can catch, animal or human."

"How do you know this?"

Falling Star stood and lit a torch from the fire. Then he beckoned to Zack. Following him through one of the several fissures that scarred the walls of the hemispherical chamber, Zack passed into another roomy cavern.

Most of the objects that were kept in that place lay beneath a remarkably thick layer of dust, as if they had not been touched in a very long time. Falling Star went to a wooden chest of antique form, bound with wide, wrought iron bands. It looked to Zack to be precisely the sort of thing the pirates of old might have used to bury their stolen gold in.

A cloud of dust arose as the Elxa shaman opened the chest. Then he stood aside in order to let Zack see what it contained. The chest held a number of books, but they were like no books Zack had ever seen before. These were massive, ponderous things, bound at the corners and along their spines in tarnished metal, with heavy catches that kept them closed and locked.

Zack looked at a few of the titles, stamped into leather or metal with gilded and decorative type. The words made no sense to him though and Zack assumed they must be in some foreign language. Falling Star cleared his throat to regain Zack's attention and pointed to one of the books. Zack read the single word on the cover, embossed in old gothic lettering with gold leaf.

"Lycanthropy?"

"I see you are surprised that I have books, Sun Bear. Though there are many books among the whites, few hold wisdom the Elxa would find useful. This is one of those few books."

"Where did you... "

"...get these? They are the property of Hunts-by-night. He left them here when he went off to seek his lost immortal lover in distant China, long ago. As chief shaman of the Elxa, it is my duty to keep them safe until he returns to us, as he promised."

"I've heard some of the stories that are told about him," Zack acknowledged as he looked again at the book the shaman had indicated. "What is lycanthropy?"

"It is the name of a condition like the one you suffer."

As Falling Star spoke, he reached to open the book. Zack saw that a page had been marked with a slip of blue paper. The shaman pointed to a portion of the page and Zack read.

Even a man who's good And says his prayers at night May still become a werewolf And kill in the full moon's light

"The old rhyme is not entirely accurate," the Elxa elder began. "Those like yourself have the ability to take their animal forms at will, anytime, though the full moon may trigger a transformation, if their power has been repressed."

Zack looked up at Falling Star and nodded in understanding. The Elxa elder closed the book and the chest before leading the way back to the fire. Once the men had sat back down, he continued.

"You see, Sun Bear, I have helped another man who had a problem similar to yours in the past."

"Who?"

"That is not important now. What is important is that you understand that it is your fear, and the fear of others, that has convinced you that you are accursed and gives you nightmares. What you must be cured of is your fear of this power, Sun Bear."

"What must I do then?"

"You must go on a spirit quest to make peace with this gift you possess."

"I don't want to make peace with it, I want to get rid of it! Can't you cure me or exorcise me or something?"

"There is no cure," Falling Star said flatly. "You can either accept this power as part of who you are and learn how to use it, or you can deny it and let it slowly kill you from the inside out."

"But even if I did accept it, I still wouldn't be able to go home. I'd still be a freak to my family and friends."

"Is there no way you could see yourself building a new life elsewhere? Is there nothing here in the valley of the heron that might tempt you to stay with us?"

"Are the Elxa any different from the Wasnai? Or my white family and friends?" Zack asked with a touch of bitterness. "Won't they fear me too, once they know I'm different?"

"Only if you fear yourself, Sun Bear."

"My greatest fear is that Lone Wolf would be afraid of me and shun me if he learns my secret," Zack admitted in a pained voice.

Falling Star smiled mysteriously. "I believe Lone Wolf is one of the few men in the Elxa tribe who would completely understand your troubles, Sun Bear."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"He must speak to you of this in his own way and time. But before that can happen, you must go on your vision quest. Remove your clothing, so that nothing can come between you and the spirits who will guide you, then follow me outside."

Soon Zack was standing in the warm afternoon sun at the mouth of the cave of mysteries, naked except for his Elxa glyphstone and the bear claw necklace. A cool breeze came to rustle his long, unbound, pale blonde hair. Falling Star pointed off toward the north.

"My spirit guides have told me that you will find your answers in that direction, Sun Bear. But you must seek them in the form you have denied. Transform."

Zack looked nervously at the nearby cabin. "What if Lone Wolf sees me change?"

"He will not. He is sleeping."

"How do you know?"

"I do. Trust me, Sun Bear. Transform."

Resigning himself, Zack closed his eyes and summoned the alien power that lived within him. He felt his body grow, gaining in bulk and weight. His hands roughened and touched the ground, raking the long grass with massive claws.

Zack opened his eyes again. He saw Falling Star gazing calmly back at him, into eyes that no other animal possessed. They were great shining orbs that sparkled and glowed like troubled pools of molten amber, shot through with gold dust. The shaman seemed undaunted by the dangerous-looking creature that now crouched before him.

Zack had become an enormous, pale blonde-furred bear, perhaps a thousand pounds or more of powerful muscles and deadly claws and teeth. Falling Star reached up to gently stroke the soft, short hairs on Zack's muzzle and touch the moist, cold, rose pink nose. The shaman's fingers dropped to brush against the necklace of bear claws, hanging along with the glyphstone Zack had found, both now snugly but not uncomfortably fitting around the werebear's massive neck.

'You are almost as handsome a bear as you are a man,' said a voice that sounded suddenly in Zack's mind.

'What's happenin'?'

'This is a gift I possess, to speak with animals through the touching of minds. In your bear form you can hear my thoughts. Go now, my son, to the north, and remain a werebear until you find what you need to be at peace with yourself.'

'But how long will that take?'

'I cannot say. But the spirits of the Elxa, good spirits, will guide your steps. Trust your heart, Sun Bear, and go.'

Falling Star watched as the huge, pale-furred bear shuffled slowly away, past the steaming pool of the hot spring and into the woods beyond. The shaman's horse and mule continued to graze peacefully though, calmed by Falling Star's ability to speak to them and let them know they were in no danger from Zack. The medicine man then went to the nearby cabin. He found Eben there clad only in his pants, stretched out on one of the bunks, taking a nap.

Drawing on his pipe, the shaman expelled a cloud of smoke as he murmured a few words in the Elxa tongue over Eben. He called upon his spirit brothers to banish the power of the casual wish Zack had made, empowered by the green starflower. The smoke seemed to coalesce in an eerie manner, forming a vague, wraithlike shape that reached out with a long, spidery limb to touch Eben. A subtle energy shimmered in the room for a moment, then it and the smoky form were gone. Falling Star came closer, leaned over the sleeping man and woke him with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Falling Star!" Eben blinked, sitting up. "Why are you here? Is Zack alright?"

"He is fine for now. But it will be up to you to see that he stays that way."

"What do you mean?"

Falling Star proceeded to explain everything to Eben, describing Zack's encounter with the nameless, malevolent spirit and the eldritch power it had infused him with. Eben listened with growing amazement. He had not expected Zack's problems to be anything like that, but just as Falling Star had predicted, he understood what Zack was going through, completely and even better than Zack did.

"I can hardly believe it," Eben muttered.

"Wait, there is more you must know."

Falling Star then told Eben about the careless wish Zack had made. Eben's face registered conflicting emotions as he listened with growing wonder. The possibility that everything he felt for Zack was false revolted him.

"No, it can't be," he insisted. "I feel something for Zack, I really do!"

"I do not doubt it, my brother. But you must take some time to think about your feelings, examine them. And you can do that while you are helping Sun Bear."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Follow him at a distance," Falling Star instructed Eben. "Watch over him during his vision quest, but do not reveal yourself. He must find his answers on his own."

"I understand."

"Good. Now go, before you lose Sun Bear's trail."

"He'll never get away from me!" Eben vowed, rising from the bed and stripping off his pants as he prepared to go.

Falling Star moved to return to the cave of mysteries, planning to make prayers to the Elxa spirits on behalf of Zack and Eben. Again he had to calm his animals as odd, scuffling sounds, like that of clawed footfalls in the long grass, came from behind him. Soon the noises died away as they moved towards the forest and out of human earshot.

When the shaman reached the painted chamber deep underground, he sat before the image he had seen in his medicine dreams that related to Sun Bear. He studied the painting a moment or two, thinking of the new dreams that had come to him, just before Zack's arrival. Then he picked up a brush and dipped it in a cup of black pigment.

With two swift strokes, the yellow sun that hovered behind the white bear was transformed into the crosshairs of a gunsight, centered on the bear image. With reddish brown he drew another, smaller animal to the right. In bright orange, he added two theroid shapes to the left.

He frowned as he painted the last two, for they represented evil spirits, enemies to both the Elxa and those totems who chose to help the tribe. As he worked, he chanted softly in a singsong manner. The sound of Falling Star's voice echoed weirdly in the hidden recesses of the cavern.

Heron Spirit, listen! Zoraxte, listen! Green God, listen!

Call your minions, all those spirits who protect and guide the Elxa!

Protect Sun Bear! Protect Lone Wolf! Protect them from the evil that lurks in the north...

the evil you have shown me, the evil that waits there, hunting for them...

Two days passed. A pair of hunters who were having no luck in their usual favorite spots had wandered beyond them, crossing into the northern reaches of the Elxa tribe's lands, though they had no way of knowing that. Still, they had sighted no game worth the bother of shooting and had taken a break to share a nip from a bottle of homebrewed popskull whiskey they carried in their pack of supplies.

"Jeezus H. Christ on a stick!" hissed a man dressed in ragged buckskin as he peered through a spyglass. "C'mere an' lookit this, Billy Bob!"

"What is it, Cletus?" his companion replied, taking another pull from the bottle of rotgut and belching.

"Keep your voice down!" Cletus whispered harshly as he handed the old telescope to Billy Bob. "Look down yonder, by them rocks!"

Billy Bob took the tarnished brass instrument and looked through it. He whistled softly through a set of bad teeth as he focused on what had so excited his companion. "Sonofabitch!" he exclaimed as he focused on the large animal below their vantage point. "I ain't never seen a pelt like that on no bear before! He must be an albino or somethin'!"

"Huh? What's that? Is it valuable?"

"Hell, yeah!" Billy Bob whispered.

He gave Cletus back the glass and picked up his rifle, sighting down the blue steel barrel at the unsuspecting, freakishly colored bear. It certainly was not acting like a normal bear, the hunter realized, as he watched it sniffing at a clump of purple flowers. The big animal's actions reminded Billy Bob of a tale he had heard long ago, a children's story about a sissy bull.

"Damn!" Billy Bob cussed softly, "He's too far away. We gotta git closer. Stay behind me, Cletus, an' keep quiet!"

'Two days now, and still nothing.'

As Zack was thinking that, he rested beside an odd rock formation surrounded by a masses of sweet-smelling purple starflowers. He raised his sparkling golden eyes and looked into the forest. A small part of his mind was considering which way he ought to go next while the rest was lost in contemplating what had passed so far.

'Got to admit it though, I am feelin' a lot more comfortable as a bear now than I was before. Of course I haven't ever stayed in bear form for so long. Maybe Falling Star was right. If I had friends who could see past my 'curse', I could live with it... '

Zack thought of Eben and prayed he would be one of those who could understand, sparking a sweet reverie. If Eben could accept Zack the way he was, Zack thought he might be able to do anything. With a partner who loved him in spite of his flaws, Zack imagined he could make the new life Falling Star had suggested, if not with the Elxa, then anywhere Eben wanted to be, as long as they could be together...

Well downwind from Zack's very sensitive nose, a pair of flaming eyes, orbs that looked as if they were made of brilliant red-orange flame, full of cunning and intelligence, watched the blonde bear's every move, as they had for the past two days. And again, as he often had for the past two days, the owner of those eyes examined how he felt. Once again, he found nothing but love in his heart for Zack. How he longed to go to him, hold him, make love to him...

The watcher was so intent on Zack that he was almost surprised by the approach of two men. Though the pair thought they were moving with extreme stealth, the one who had been shadowing Zack heard the humans soon enough to be able to slip unnoticed into the cover of the surrounding forest. The ruddy hair on the creature's back bristled in anger as the flame-eyed beast listened to the hunters' whispered conversation.

"Kin ya shoot 'em now?"

Billy Bob took another sighting down the barrel of his gun as he steadied himself against a tree.

"Nope. Not yet."

"How much you think his hide's worth?"

"Two, mebbe three hundred. He'll make a helluva rug for some rich man's parlor!"

"Three hundred dollars!"

"Shut up, ya blamed idjit! Iffin' ya spook him, he'll run like a deer!"

As Billy Bob hissed the warning, he started moving again. Drawing carefully closer to the oddly colored bear. But now the hunters were themselves being hunted, by one who had sworn not to allow any harm to come to the werebear he was shadowing.

'Well, I guess I better get movin' again,' Zack thought, getting to his feet.

"He's movin' off!" whined Cletus. "Shoot 'em!"

"Shut up!" Billy Bob hissed. "I almost got his range! C'mon, big fella, just a little closer... "

The ruddy furred thing that followed the hunters laid his ears back in a thoroughly bestial rage. How dare the one with the gun say what he just had! The bear was his big fella, and always would be if he had anything to do with it!

As Billy Bob's index finger gently squeezed the Winchester's trigger, he never clearly saw what hit him an instant later, only a reddish-brown blur with fiery eyes, blazing like the live, livid coals of a campfire, flying at him. He saw that much out of the corner of his own eye, just before whatever it was knocked him for a loop. The gun went off, but the bullet flew wide of its mark, ricocheting harmlessly off the stones above Zack's position.

Cletus pulled a big bowie knife from its sheath at his side as he watched his dazed companion reacting out of sheer instinct, swinging his rifle like a club at his attacker just before he blacked out. Billy Bob's aim was true though and the heavy wooden stock connected with the beast's skull, laying a strange-looking, light brown-red pelted wolf out cold at Cletus' feet. Without hesitation he moved, intending to cut the wolf's throat, only to have his long blade slapped painfully from his hand just as it began to arc downwards.

He cursed and gripped his sprained hand before looking up. Then Cletus froze as his gaze locked with the uncanny eyes of the pale-furred bear he and his friend had been stalking. The brilliant golden orbs shone like no natural eyes, constantly shifting, shimmering and sparkling, inexplicably lit from within.

The bear opened its mouth, displaying a bone-crushing array of teeth and roared in Cletus' face, a roar that went on and on, flecks of the bear's thick saliva flying to stick to the terrified man's face. He shook with fear, pissing and shitting in his pants. In fact, Cletus never heard the end of the roar as he finally fainted dead away from sheer terror.

After that, the bear's massive head pivoted as he looked the confusing scene over. He sniffed curiously at the oddly-pelted wolf that had apparently saved his life by spoiling the hunter's aim. To his vast and utter dismay, Zack found its scent to be very familiar.

'It can't be... '

Carefully, Zack lifted the unconscious wolf by the scruff of its neck with his powerful jaws and carried it away, not wanting either of them to be in that place when the two hunters woke up. As he left, Zack deliberately stepped on the rifle. His great weight bent the barrel and rendered the gun useless. Soon the strange pair were far away, and approaching a hot spring Zack had come across during his previous day's wanderings.

Putting the animal down, Zack dipped one huge paw into the warm water and splashed the wolf. He was ready to back off quickly if the wolf was wild, but its scent told him otherwise. The wolf opened its burning eyes and whined in pain, pawing weakly at its head.

Slowly, carefully, Zack lowered his blunt muzzle and began to lick the sore spot on the wolf's skull. As his long, pink tongue stroked the reddish-brown fur, plastering it down, the wolf stopped whimpering and relaxed, closing its flaming orange eyes as it enjoyed the pleasant sensation of Zack's tongue moving rhythmically against its skin. A familiar voice began to speak to Zack, soundlessly in his mind, just as Falling Star's had.

'Are you alright, Zack?'

'Shouldn't I be askin' you that, Eben? Or should I call you Spirit-Wolf?'

'Aren't you surprised?'

'Yeah, Eben, I am. I thought I was the only one around here who was... ' Zack almost thought 'cursed' from force of habit, but stopped himself. He realized he did not believe that anymore.

'Damn, my head hurts,' Eben telepathed. 'Don't stop lickin' me, Zack. It feels real good.'

'Try and stop me, little buddy,' he chortled as he put his long tongue back to work. 'I plan to be lickin' on you as much as I can for a long time to come, if you'll let me!'

'Oh!'

'What?'

'Where are those hunters?'

'Don't worry, I busted their gun. They can't hurt us now.'

'Where are we?'

'At a hot spring I found. Relax and rest until you feel better.'

'Falling Star isn't goin' to like this,' Eben sighed.

'What? That you saved my life?'

'No, because I ruined your vision quest. He ordered me to follow you, but in secret, so you wouldn't be distracted.'

'Well, you do distract me, you know!'

'Flatterer!'

'But seriously, Eben, thank you for savin' my life.'

'Well, I couldn't stand by and let them kill you... I... I love you, Zack.'

Zack touched his muzzle to Eben's and licked it tenderly, as close to a kiss as they could get in their animal forms.

'And I love you, Eben. Truly, utterly and completely.'

'Zack... ' sighed Eben.

Zack laid down next to Eben and they cuddled as best they could. They licked one another's pink noses, each memorizing the other's animal scent. Their joy at being together again was evidenced when the tips of their pointed, slick, pink animal members began to emerge from furry sheaths. Eben broke their quiet nuzzling.

'Er, you know, I've never had sex in this form, except for jerkin' off a couple of times.'

'Same here.'

Eben looked longingly at the hot spring.

'If we weren't still so close to those hunters, I'd suggest we become human again and get in that pool.' His eyes came back to Zack's. 'I want to feel your arms holdin' me, your hard cock inside me, fillin' me with your love.'

'Yes,' Zack agreed, 'I had a similar idea. But I imagined you doin' all that, and more, to me!'

They laughed silently.

'I'm sure we can make love the way you want later, tonight perhaps,' Zack went on. 'Without their gun, those hunters are no threat to us. But what I'd like right now is to hear how you got your gift.'

'So you don't think it's a curse anymore?'

'I've had time to think about what Falling Star told me and he was right. It's only a curse if I believe others when they tell me it's a curse.'

'Falling Star gave me some things to think about too, while I was followin' you.'

'You mean, about the wish I made?'

'Yes,' Eben said, 'and I'm sure I'm not under some spell, Zack. Well,' he reconsidered, 'maybe I am, but it's you who cast it, not some flower. I'm honestly in love with you, and I want to tell you everything about me, so we can start this relationship off on the right foot.'

Eben began to tell Zack a story remarkably like his own. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Eben had been out hunting when he encountered a different shaman invoking the same weird spirit in the midst of another black medicine wheel. Eben's unexpected appearance had disrupted the black-clad sorcerer's rite, and in the ensuing confusion, HE had touched Eben with an eldritch power before the man could get away from there. But in his case, Eben had become a werewolf.

But Eben had not known that until he transformed without meaning to, terrorizing the small town in which he lived. Unlike Zack, Eben had never heard of the heron men. But one member of that tribe, an elder named Xaculi, followed directions given him by the tribe's guardian spirits in medicine dreams. He found Eben, gained his trust and guided the tormented white man to Falling Star.

'I was hidin' in an abandoned mine when Xaculi found me. He coaxed me out, gave me some hope... Xaculi is my closest friend,' Eben told Zack. 'He saved my life... '

'Well, I'm grateful to him as well,' Zack returned, meaning every word. 'But go on with your story.'

Eben told how he was taken to Falling Star, who had given him the same advice Zack had received. If he allowed himself to transform at least once a week into a werewolf, then he would retain control over the alien power that had infused his body. And prevent anyone else from being harmed by it.

Zack remembered the calendar he had seen in Eben's cabin and the days circled on it. Eben nodded and confirmed those were the days he went on what he called his 'runs', patrolling a set route through the settled areas of the valley of the heron, making sure everything was as it should be. Then he returned to his story.

Because he could not go home, Eben remained with the Elxa and stayed close to Xaculi. But as time went on and he came to know and respect the gentle men who lived in the valley of the heron, Eben found more to keep him there than just gratitude for the control over his power that he had acquired. Among the Elxa, Eben found an ideal of masculine love he had only dreamed of before, as he became part of a tribe of man-lovers like himself who gladly welcomed him into their brotherhood.

'Falling Star told me the nameless spirit could give different animal forms,' Eben went on, 'but you're the only other werebeing I've ever met.'

'So there are other kinds besides werewolves and werebears?'

'So Falling Star told me,' Eben yawned, showing off some frightfully large fangs.

'My, what big teeth you have,' chuckled Zack.

'All the better to eat you with, my dear!' Eben returned, yawning again.

'You can eat me later, little buddy,' said Zack, nuzzling his friend lovingly. 'Try to sleep now. I'll guard you.'

'Thank you, my love... '

Eben and Zack stayed together beside the thermal vent as the day ended and night fell. After Eben had rested and recovered from his slight injury, the pair took their human forms again. Slipping into the hot spring together, they consummated their declarations of love and baptized their newborn partnership in the warm waters.

But even warmer were the embraces, kisses and touches they shared. Their lovemaking was rendered all the more sweet by the knowledge that their future would hold more of the same, much more... As well as the certainty that they would always have someone to turn to from then on, the special partner each had sought for a lifetime.

Wearied by their lovemaking, they left the pool and resumed their werebeast forms. Finding a niche beneath a rock ledge, Zack dug it out deeper with his massive claws, so they would both have room to sleep there. Squeezing himself into the den he had made, Zack invited Eben to burrow in between his legs and cuddle with him. The werewolf was more than happy to comply.

The next day, the pair decided to return to the cave of mysteries. Talking it over, it seemed to them that Zack's vision quest had been undone by Eben's forced intrusion into it. So the only thing they could think of to do was return to Falling Star.

Practical considerations kept them in their animal forms during the journey back. Not least among which was the fact that they would have been two defenseless, nude humans trekking through a dangerous mountain wilderness. One prowled by any number of wild beasts that would have made short work of them.

But as werebeasts, they were perfectly safe. As they traveled back, they shared what they knew about the powers they possessed, learning from each other. At one point they were crossing a mountain meadow when something bright growing in the tall grass caught Zack's eye.

'What is it?' asked Eben when he noticed Zack turn aside.

'Look.'

Eben watched as Zack swept aside the grass with a huge paw. His action revealed a clump of white starflowers. They were blooming beside a rock, almost hidden by the surrounding growth.

A single scarlet blossom stood in their midst, like a drop of blood against snow. Eben was surprised to see the rare color. Zack's reaction was less enthusiastic.

'Darn,' Zack said after looking the natural bouquet over.

'What?' asked Eben.

'It figures I'd find a starflower I don't need,' he telepathed wryly, looking at his lover. 'You're all the aphrodisiac I'll ever require!'

'Flatterer!' returned Eben as he wolf-kissed his lover's nose with a quick stroke of his tongue. 'What did you hope to find?'

'I thought maybe if I could find one of those orange ones, like you mentioned, I could eat it and have a medicine vision and find the answers Falling Star sent me out here to find.'

'I don't think it works quite that way, big fella.'

'That reminds me, you never told me what you saw when you had your vision. Can you tell me now?'

'Yes, there's nothing to hide now. I told you the Elxa gods appeared to me... '

'Yes.'

'Well, they told me that since Hunts-by-night had left the Elxa, there hadn't been anyone strong like him to physically protect the tribe and the valley of the heron, and they asked me to take his place.'

'And you accepted.'

'Yes. I became the Spirit-Wolf. Falling Star, Red Hand and Xaculi know what I do for the Elxa, and honor me for it, and the other heron men have become my family, but I still felt... '

' ...alone,' Zack finished.

They looked at each other.

'But not anymore,' Eben said.

'No, little buddy, not anymore,' answered Zack, lowering his massive head in order to gently nuzzle his friend.

The werebeasts slept cuddled together at night under whatever shelter they could find. Desiring each other, they experimented, learning how to have sex in their animal forms. They used their tongues to lick each other's pink, slick members, protruding from furry-skinned sheaths, to orgasm, eliciting howls or roars, depending on who was cumming. Then they would clean one another's spooge-splattered fur, each lapping up the sticky savor of the other's nutjuices.

During the days, they would have been a strange sight to anyone who happened to see them. A ghostly pale bear and a red-brown wolf chasing each other by turns through the wilderness, seemingly playing tag. At one point, when Zack had lost Eben's scent in a patch of bear grass, he paused to test the air with his nose. But the sensation he perceived was of a liquid warmth, abruptly spreading itself across one of his shaggy rear legs.

'Hey!' He spun around to catch Eben with his leg hiked, urinating on him. 'What's the big idea?!'

'Don't you know that wolves always mark their territory?' Eben laughed telepathically, frisking about in the tall grass, just beyond the reach of Zack's sharp claws.

'Okay, you perverted furball, if that's how you want it... '

Zack reared up on his hind legs to his full height of over ten feet and let fly a dark amber stream of bear piss in the snickering wolf's direction. To Zack's dismay, Eben did not try to get away. In fact, he moved closer, into the steaming shower, allowing his fur to get thoroughly soaked.

'Thanks,' Eben said gratefully when Zack finished.

'You should change your name,' Zack shook his head, 'to Sick Puppy! I didn't know you were into that!'

'I'm not! I thought we were bondin' here!'

'Oh. Our own version of the arch, eh?'

'Yeah!'

'Well, it sure doesn't smell as nice as all those flowers!'

'Okay, big fella, we'll do the arch thing too.'

'One thing though.'

'What?'

'I'm not fuckin' you in front of the whole tribe!' Zack telepathed firmly.

'Okay,' Eben began, snickering. 'How about if I fuck you in front of our brothers instead?'

'Why you little... ' Eben gave a sudden yelp of mock-terror as Zack swatted at his lover with a big paw. Eben ran off at once, beginning another chase.

Falling Star sensed the thoughts of the werebeasts long before they arrived at the cave of mysteries. By the time they emerged from the forest's edge, they saw the shaman waiting for them, sitting outside the cavern next to the hot spring, smoking his long pipe. The pair ambled up to the man and sat, waiting for his words.

'Tell me what happened,' he asked, using his telepathic gift.

First Zack, and then Eben described their adventures. The shaman puffed away on his pipe as he listened, nodding occasionally. Zack apologized when Eben finished.

'I'm sorry I wasn't able to follow your instructions, Falling Star. I could try again... '

'Why?' the shaman asked gently.

'I didn't learn anything.'

'Ah, but you did,' Falling Star smiled as Zack began to sputter. The shaman turned to Eben. 'You understand, don't you?'

'Yes, I think I do,' Eben brightened.

'Well, would you both mind lettin' me in on the big secret?' demanded Zack.

Falling Star took another pull on his pipe, in no hurry to appease the dangerous-looking beast that looked expectantly at him with blazing golden eyes. The bowl of his pipe glowed almost exactly the same shade of red-orange that lived in the Spirit-Wolf's eyes for a brief instant. Then the Elxa elder spoke, smoke flowing from his mouth and nose as he did so, pointing his pipestem at Zack for emphasis.

'When you left here four days ago, you were terrified of your werebear form. Now you sit here in it before me at ease, hardly aware of it as you converse with us. It certainly looks to me as if you learned something, Sun Bear!'

Despite his outward form, Zack's face managed to register the surprise he felt as Falling Star's words sank in. He realized he was no longer afraid of his power, or of accidentally hurting anyone with it. Nor what others might think of it, though he had no intention of letting his abilities become generally known, even among the Elxa.

Eben had told him earlier that only Falling Star, his partner Red Hand and Xaculi knew of his ability to become a werewolf and had kept the secret. They in turn had warned the rest of the tribe not to harm the strange, red-brown furred Spirit-Wolf that had come to live in the valley of the heron. It seemed the Elxa would soon learn that the Spirit-Wolf had a companion, who was likewise not to be molested.

On top of that, Zack had survived an attempt on his life. And he and Eben had acknowledged the love they shared. If anyone had good cause to count their blessings, it was him.

'Yes,' he said, looking from Falling Star to Eben and back again to the Elxa shaman. 'I do understand. And I'll always be grateful to you for helpin' me find that understandin', and peace of mind.'

Falling Star reached up to touch the soft, short fur on Zack's blunt muzzle once again and breathed. "You are indeed our brother now, Sun Bear. The Elxa will be blessed to have you join us. But if you choose another path, know that you will always have friends here."

For a wolf, Eben looked decidedly uncomfortable as waited for Zack's decision. Zack answered with a movement. He lifted a big forepaw and put it on Eben's far side, pulling the werewolf over tightly against his warm, shaggy hide.

'I want to stay here. The country is beautiful and the men aren't too bad to look at either. Especially this one.'

Falling Star smiled. "Go in peace then, my brothers, and walk in the Way of the Heron, the path of the power of man-love, together, always."

Zack and Eben took their time as they traveled the trail that led back to Roman Rock, once again in their human forms. When the pair reached the campsite beside Heron Creek where Zack had met the Green God, they decided to stay there overnight. Even in their human forms they possessed great stamina and would have been able to race all the way back to Eben's cabin that day without becoming tired had they wished to.

But Eben and Zack were in no hurry, enjoying each other's company and the beginning of what both sensed was a sort of honeymoon. Zack remembered what Eben had told him about the 'play-journeys' some Elxa took and was thinking about asking Eben to wander with him awhile in the valley of the heron, to explore it and the feelings they shared. Leaving their belongings inside the lean-to, Eben followed Zack as he went into the nearby woods, wondering what his new lover was up to.

"Where're you goin'?"

"I wanted to see if... Ah! There it is!" Zack said, going up to a large myrtle tree and touching it, as if to make sure of its reality.

"What?"

"You remember the medicine dream I had here?"

"Of course."

"This is the tree I saw the Green God disappear into."

Murmuring something in the Elxa tongue, Eben gathered a few of the myrtle leaves.

"What'd you say, Eben?"

"I asked for the spirits' blessin' when I picked the leaves. I want to use them to brew us some tea. If we drink some tonight, before we sleep, perhaps we'll have medicine dreams."

"I know what I'll dream about," Zack whispered as he kissed Eben. "You."

"You know," Eben said as they returned to the lean-to, "I still might have to change my name."

"Well, I don't vote for 'Wolf-who-eats-Bear'!"

Both the men laughed, recalling the joke at the feast. Zack stopped laughing first. Eben did too, when he saw the look on Zack's face.

"What?"

"I've got it!"

"What?"

"The perfect name for you: Laughing Wolf!"

"Laughing Wolf," Eben repeated. "I like it!"

"But if you don't want to change your name, that's okay too. You might no longer literally be a 'Lone Wolf', but from now on you certainly are my only wolf!"

"I don't mind bein' called any kind of a wolf, as long as I'm your man."

Zack replied softly.

Like a rose you're sweet no matter by what name you're called...

It doesn't matter to our souls; they call wordlessly to one another and answer with love...

When Zack's song was over, Eben asked: "Do you still want to go through the arch with me to make it official?"

"Sure, but what about the public sex?"

"Well, like I told you before, it isn't mandatory. If you don't want to do it, no one will... "

Eben paused, his words trailing off as he wondered at his lover. Zack had begun to take off his clothes. Soon he was ready, reclining naked on a blanket spread out in the shade of the lean-to, surrounded by tall grass interspersed with blossoms of blue lupine, pink columbine, sunshine-bright buttercups and ruddy devil's paintbrushes. Zack spread his golden-furred thighs, exposing his dark pink puckered bull's-eye as he offered his lover the small leather sack of Elxa lube they had often used of late.

"Show me how you're goin' to make love to me in front of all our heron brothers, little buddy," Zack invited softly.

Eben responded by stripping quickly, and then falling into Zack's arms with a sudden, hungry passion. The uninhibited sounds the two men made as they rutted broke the calm of the wilderness for a time, startling a pair of large waterbirds fishing in the nearby stream. The herons spread their great, dusty blue wings and took flight, just like the spirits of all the gentle hearted men who had found love's fulfillment in the valley of the heron.

THE END

of The Valley Of The Heron

the 3rd chapter in the series

'The Way Of The Heron'

by C. T. Creekmur

comments or suggestions are welcome at tcreekmur@hotmail.com

Copyright (c) 2009 by Charles T. Creekmur

"All Rights Reserved"

submitted to www.nifty.org 1/18/2009