This may be my last letter to you.
Alas, knowing the titanic evil force we face, I fear the promises I made to you will be forfeit, and I’ll never return to claim your hand. But this is a battle that simply must be fought, for the sake of our world and our civilization. If the dragon sorcerer is not stopped, he will grow powerful enough to cross the Mississippi, to burn our American lands all the way to the Atlantic. I cannot leave you to face such a terrible fate, my dear Julia, without knowing I did everything in my power to stop it.
I cannot explain how I know these details, because you’d think me a lunatic. Realize that out here in the arcane territories, the powers of magic have a different sway and strength, built out of different ingredients from the myths and legends of all the native peoples. Let me just say that Captain Lewis has returned from a remarkable journey into a magical realm, and he brought us back news we cannot doubt.
Now, we are about to try a rather desperate stratagem. If we should fail, we will be destroyed by forces beyond our control. That growing, primal force is part native and part European, and wholly malevolent. In future, if you hear warnings about ravens or dragons, do not doubt them but make yourself safe.
But if you hear of such dangers, that will mean we are quite utterly lost, possibly dead or possibly worse. It may be that no one will survive on this continent isolated by magic. I can only hope you will find a place to hide and survive as long as possible.
Yours always, to the death,
William Clark
A Forlorn Hope
After the spirit dragon battle in the sky and the journey through the land of the dead, Meriwether told them everything he knew, everything he’d learned.
Sadly, it wasn’t enough to bring any confidence of victory.
After they recovered from the attack, put out all the fires, and finished the clean grave of Toussaint Charbonneau, Meriwether met with Clark and the members of the expedition, as well as Cameahwait, the tribe’s shaman, and other Shoshone warriors. It was a council of war.
The shaman Dosabite pressed many questions, asking for details about Meriwether’s encounters in the land of the dead, his conversations with the revenants. He expounded his entire story, all over again. He was still as puzzled by finding the mixed clusters of white men and native tribes in the same purgatory of their souls.
“Maybe the magic is mingled,” the shaman suggested.
Meriwether took it further. “Maybe our fates are mingled. And we have to fight together to defeat this force that means to destroy both of our races.”
As the large crowd gathered, LaBiche translated his entire story. The scruffy priest, Father Avenir, stood among the Snake People, curious and concerned. He seemed entirely unsurprised by Meriwether’s fantastic tale, and merely muttered in his thick accent that he had seen many strange things himself as he spread the Word among the peoples of the wilderness.
The priest also seemed worried to set off alone. He feared that the dragon sorcerer would snatch him from the sky and enslave him as a thrall. No one could dispute that was a real matter for concern.
The discussions, the discarded ideas, the arguments, the fears, droned on for so long and without resolution that Meriwether began to slump in his seat, exhausted from his spirit battle with the dragon, not to mention the lingering effects from his journey into the world of the dead. He found himself dozing off, but woke when he heard Sacagawea speaking. She stood by the council fire and spoke in her own language with the authority of someone much older…a leader. The crowded people listened to her, in utter silence.
Nudging Meriwether, LaBiche whispered, “She says that not everyone should go on this expedition against the dragon sorcerer. The enemy will kill women and children with no second thought, and he will use the bodies of those he kills to attack the rest. She says we must choose only the strongest warriors.”
Meriwether knew he would be included in that number, even if he still didn’t entirely understand the true capacity of his own magic. He heard Sacagawea’s voice and drew strength from it, although he couldn’t understand her words.
LaBiche listened, then translated, “She says that only a few should come with you and her, warriors from her tribe and from your expedition. The rest should hide where the dragon sorcerer cannot find them, so that he can’t turn them into his slaves to thwart us.” He scratched his chin, frowning. “If the dragon sorcerer seizes their spirits, then they will be as dead as the rest of you.”
Meriwether was surprised. “She sounds as if she has no confidence in our war party.”
The translator snorted. “I added a little of my own opinion, Captain. Even so, she says they should leave this area and head along the trail back toward St. Louis, to find someplace to hide in all that vast land.”
“And if we do win, how will we ever find them?” Meriwether asked.
LaBiche merely smiled. “She says she will send her spirit eagle, or you will send your spirit dragon. You can search for them from the air.”
“Can’t the dragon sorcerer do the same?”
“You will keep him busy by attacking him, Captain!” He punctuated his reply with a snort.
“I don’t like this plan,” Meriwether muttered as Sacagawea continued to make her case to the people. Captain Clark and the rest of the expedition sat hunched forward, listening intently and trying to understand.
Clark stood up, interjecting. “Yes, as many people as possible should evacuate to safer lands to the east, toward St. Louis. If we should fail in our war here, if they hear nothing from us within a month, they have no choice but to give us up for dead. They can send an emissary to the civilized lands, seek out the great wizard Benjamin Franklin and seek his help.” His voice dropped. “Maybe he can succeed where we fail.”
“Don’t assume we will fail, my friend,” Meriwether said, levering himself to his feet and swaying until he gathered his balance. Sacagawea looked at him with a warm, defiant smile, and nodded.
But Cameahwait muttered and shook his head, and the Shoshone people argued among themselves. Meriwether listened to the heated discussions as the expedition members looked on, confused. “Why are they arguing?” he asked the translator. “How can they not agree with Sacagawea’s very sensible plan?”
The translator shook his head. “Among the Snake People, the most important quality is bravery. The warriors are all vying to go with us. They don’t want to be sent back east with the women and children. She’s trying to make them understand the women and children need protection, and therefore strong warriors must accompany them, too. She is trying to convince them this is just as brave.”
In the end, the long discussions reached only an uneasy resolution, with Cameahwait grudgingly accepting that he must go back with the remnant of the tribe, while Sacagawea would go forth to attack the dragon sorcerer in his lair. Meriwether was shrewd enough to realize that her brother only agreed to his role because he knew the tribe would fall apart without a leader.
The men of the expedition were equally determined, all of them angry and wanting to join the battle rather than escort the larger band to safety downriver. In the end, twenty expedition men were selected for the war party, chosen on the basis of which ones had no wives or families that depended on their survival.
Clark insisted he would go along with his partner, since he had no real dependents except for his potential fiancée, whom he often wrote. In fact, he pointed out that Meriwether Lewis had far more to lose, a mother and siblings to look after, and a duty to return to the east.
But Sacagawea was adamant. “Captain Lewis must go. Both of us must go, if we are to have any hope of winning against the dragon. We learned that in the land of the dead.”