“Actually I was lucky enough to know both of my grandfathers. My paternal grandfather was Lakota, a great shaman, a great man. He could do things I’ve never seen anyone do. He used to say each thing has a spirit, a breath of life, and he could talk to the spirits. Once I saw a small boy who had fallen from a cliff and lay broken, so many bones crushed he screamed in agony. While we waited for the rescue helicopter to come, my grandfather began to chant to the spirits, the sixteen who are one. He laid his hands over the boy, and I could feel the heat he generated. By the time the helicopter arrived, the boy was no longer screaming and his bones were perfectly fine. My grandfather was taken in the helicopter instead as his heart nearly failed.”
“That’s incredible. No wonder you wanted to be able to heal people. I’ve read about such things, but certainly never witnessed it. What was his name?”
Nicolas smiled. “Just Grandfather to me. Nicolas was one name he went by, but he had many.”
“You really loved him, didn’t you? You must love having his name.”
Nicolas watched her fingers, the strange little rhythm she tapped in the air. She seemed unaware of it. He remembered feeling the rhythm as she tapped her fingers against the mattress in the cabin in the bayou. It obviously was a habit. “Yes I did, Dahlia. Growing up with him was a humbling experience. You can’t imagine how perfect a childhood it was for a young boy. My grandfather taught me to track and to survive in any kind of condition, but most of all he taught me to respect life and nature.” Her fingers fascinated him. There was something hypnotic about the way she spun her fingers in the air. “What are you doing?”
She looked startled. Her mouth formed a question, but she followed his gaze to her fingers. Faint color crept under her skin and she closed her hand into a fist. “I do exercises with small balls. It helps to alleviate the constant bombardment of energy. I had a collection of balls made out of mineral stones, mostly crystals. The different properties help with various types of energy.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter. Nicolas could see it clearly did.
“I may have saved a few of your favorites. I tossed the ones I saw in your bedroom into the pillowcase right before I noticed the explosives.”
Her entire face lit up. Nicolas felt as if he’d just been handed a Christmas present. She nearly jumped at him, and he braced himself for her touch. At the last moment she changed her mind and simply brushed her soft lips over his face.
Heat seared his cheek. That brief, wisp of gesture seemed shockingly intimate. He reached up and touched the spot with his fingertips.
Dahlia’s color deepened even more. “I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me. I know you don’t like to be touched anymore than I do. I’m acting out of character around you. I honestly don’t throw myself at people on a regular basis.”
“I think we’ve established I don’t mind your touch, Dahlia,” he said. He drew the pillowcase from his pack and fished around for the peculiar balls made of varying crystal and stones. They were cool to the touch, smooth and hard. His fingers brushed hers as he handed them to her. At once he felt the warmth, as if the spheres took on life when transferred to Dahlia. He looked down to see their hands together, his large, hers small, and something immediately tugged at his brain. The memory of his spirit vision came rushing over him.
“Thank you, Nicolas.” She took the small spheres from him. One set was amethyst. Her fingers caressed them immediately, rubbing and rolling them together. Another set was made of rose quartz and still another was made of aquamarine.
It was a small thing, but it brought her pleasure, and that was all that mattered to him. “Do you believe crystals aid in healing?” he asked curiously.
“I don’t know about healing, although they’re reputed to be able to focus the energy and help. I do know they help me tremendously. When I need to be calm, any of these three sets really work, some of the others to a lesser degree.”