Assault on Atlantis

CHAPTER THRITY SIX

There was firing to the south, where Reno and Benteen’s troops were dug in on top of a knoll. They didn’t have access to water, and Sitting Bull knew it would only be a matter of a couple days before they became dehydrated and desperate.

They were not his immediate concern. He looked over the battlefield strewn with the dead blue coats and crowded with his people. All had gathered round. Staring up at him. The two ghosts had just disappeared into the black with the glowing skulls. Such a thing none here had ever seen, and all knew they had witnessed powerful medicine.

For the first time in his life, Sitting Bull was at a loss for words. He could see Crazy Horse and the strange half-breed who had brought the skulls whispering together.

“My people” Sitting Bull began, but he still could not summon the words that had always flowed so easily. Thus, he gave way when Crazy Horse, the one who never spoke in front of groups, who let his actions speak, surprisingly came forward.

Crazy Horse stood next to Sitting Bull. Looking around at the thousand faces looking back. Warriors, squaws, children. Many covered in white man’s blood. He, too, heard the shooting to the south where warriors kept the other blue coats trapped. This was a great victory indeed, but yes, even Crazy Horse could finally accept that they had only destroyed half of the Seventh Cavalry, and there was another column of blue coats coming from the north with even more men than Custer had, an ocean of soldiers to the east ready to sweep west.

“What happened today,” Crazy Horse said, his powerful voice easily carrying over the crowd, “the magic you have witnessed, must never be spoken of. Even among us. And you would be wise not to speak of this battle at all to the whites. For they will come thirsting for vengeance for the Son of the Morning Star and the others who lie here.” He swallowed, looked at his “brother,” who met his gaze steadily, then continued. ·’We must leave. Separate and go our own ways. And make peace with the whites when they offer it” There were no cries of dissent. The magic all had witnessed had been too powerful, too full of portent. “If we continue to fight we will all die. We will become as extinct as the great buffalo. We used to see the plaids covered with them as far as the eye could reach. They would pass by our encampments for days on end. Now we must search long and hard for a small group. If we continue to fight we, too, will come to an end.”

He waved toward the west. “Go. Separate. Hide from the whites. And when they offer peace, take it. It is not a good thing. It is not what I or you would want. But it is what will happen.”

Crazy Horse walked down, past the horse against which Custer lay dead, up to his “brother.” “Go in peace. Talk to the white chiefs. Tell them it is over.”

Earhart floated into the power chamber, which was lit only by · a dim gold glow from the portal map. She saw Dane lying at me base of the portal pedestal.

“Eric?”

Dane slowly opened his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

Dane nodded, grimacing with pain. “We must take the fight to the Shadow.”

“How do we do that?”

“First, we find the Ones Before.” Before Earhart could ask the same question, Dane continued. “I sensed something in the portal. I think I can get us to them.”

“And then?”

“We find out the truth about this war. And we end it.”