Terror. In the sweat lodge. Drumming. Singing. Great Ones whispering.

Tooahyaysay. There are four Rounds. First is Giant.

Dah guh teh, says One Once Called Mangas. I knew your family.

You were our greatest strategist, but you were too trusting.

There’s balance in everything. You’re learning to strike it. Put this blue stone in your mouth. You’ll be visited by four ancestors. Each will present a bundle. Learn what he teaches. You’ll need it today. As the eldest, I come from the east. Open this Black Bundle.

A man forty feet tall brandishing an obsidian knife appears. Giant squares off with me on a barren rock slab under a blazing sun. Buzzards circle. You have something I’m going to eat, he says. Your land. Even if I have to kill you first.

“You can’t eat our land. It’s who we are. It’s where our people lived, died, and are buried.”

Try to stop me.

A knife appears in my hand. “With this, I will.”

Be ready, he says, then slashes from the east.

Lightning flashes. Thunder booms. His blade goes over my head.

Then he cuts from the south.

Lightning flashes. Thunder booms. His blade misses before me.

Then he stabs from the west.

Lightning flashes. Thunder booms. His blade flashes to my left.

Then he strikes from the north.

Lightning flashes. Thunder booms. His blade slips by my right side.

Unscathed, I remove my loincloth. “My turn.”

My first cut, a slash from the east, opens Giant’s abdomen. My second, a sweep from the south, slits Giant’s throat. My third, a hack from the west, slices away Giant’s genitals. My fourth cut, a poke from the north, punctures Giant’s heart.

Giant falls into four pieces and disappears, leaving only crimson splotches on hot rock.

Mangas relieves me of the knife. You have done me a great favor. Now you know what your ancestors know. You act like a man. Today, you will win great battles. But you still have the three worst to kill.

Tell me how to win, uncle.

You’ll figure it out. He heads south and disappears.

Round Two. Drumbeats. Blood scent. Heat. Tooahyaysay, the Second Round is Eagle.

One Once Called Cochise arrives from the south. Ha honda, Tooahyaysay. You’re an Oak, alright. And I’m the toughest Chiricahua who ever lived.

Everyone knows that.

Not so. You’ve supplanted me. Now listen: between Willow and Pine after you kill Giant—they’ll jump you from three directions. Cloak yourself. Open this Blue Bundle.

I’m slumped on pine needles, wrapped in a dead foe’s bloody intestines, feigning death. Female Rain falls, warm and gentle. Then Male Rain, cold, hard, angry.

Eagle soars over the Mesa, hunting me. I see you, Will. Now you’re going to die.

I say nothing. Eagle flies in closer.

Hot breath burns my cheek. His wings block the rain. Eagle pecks at the intestines, cutting me. I see you, Will. But you’re dead.

In a rush, before Eagle consumes me, I raise my war club. I, Tooahyaysay, see you, Eagle. Now you’re going to die. I bring the club down hard on Eagle’s head. Eagle’s beak crushes. His eyes pop out.

Eagle falls from the sky, dead. I pluck four feathers and offer them to the four directions.

One Once Named Cochise reappears. Tooahyaysay, I’ve never been prouder of anyone. But you still have the two worst to kill. Nan dus selth. He heads west and disappears.

Rumbling. Rattling. Snorting. Tooahyaysay, Third Round is Natzili—Buffalo Bull.

One Once Called Victorio comes from the west. Ha honda, shikisn. So you’re the great leader.

Hardly.

Speaking lies is not the Chiricahua way. Once it was my turn. Now it’s yours. You’re doing things properly.

So I made the right choice?

If you would keep the covenant with Yusen, there is no choice. But before you can use your Power, you must give something up. What did you relinquish?

Hope for a better past.

One Once Called Victorio holds out a Yellow Bundle. Open it.

An enormous Bull appears. I see you, Will, he huffs. And now it’s time to die. He runs from the west, horns aimed at my heart, eyes afire. The ground thunders.

“You’re too slow, Bull,” I razz him, then run zigzag patterns to confuse him, then at the last minute lay flat and cover myself with dirt. He flashes over me but inflicts no damage.

You duped me, he bellows, then turns and runs from the north.

“You’re too weak, Bull.” I run in waves to disorient him. The mountains tumble. At the last second I lay flat and cover myself with spider webs. He misses on my left side.

You tricked me, he says. This time, you’re mine. He turns and runs from the east.

“You’re too old, Bull.” I run a maze pattern, then at the last minute lay flat and cover myself with pine needles. The sky falls.

He comes up short nearby, breathing hard. You fooled me. This time, you’re mine. He bellows and changes directions. On his fourth run he comes from the south.

“You’re too stupid, Bull.” I run out the constellations to deceive him. Hell breaks loose. At the last instant, I hold out my hand.

He stops. You conned me. You win. Bull’s heart explodes, then he slowly vanishes.

One Once Named Victorio reappears. Well done, son of Child-of-Water. But you still have the worst to kill. Put on this white flint necklace. I’ll see you when you walk on. He heads north and disappears.

Rat-a-tat-tat. Tooahyaysay, Round Four is Antelope.

I’m on a prairie. One Once Known as Geronimo rides in from the north on a painted pony. I know your family, he says. Naiche was a shadow of his father. Are you a shadow of Ben Oak?

That’s not for me to say.

Nzhoo. Let your deeds speak instead of your words and numbers.

One Once Known as Geronimo, have you regrets?

Only that I turned myself in. I should have fought the White Eyes to the last drop of my blood. Never surrender, Tooahyaysay. Take this White Bundle. Open it for what it’s worth.

Rain. Lightning. Thunder. Antelope barrels from the north. Hot beams from his eyes sear my eyes. When I catch you, Will, I’ll tie you to a tree and burn you alive as a witch.

“You’ll never catch me, Antelope. You’re too lazy.” I shoot an arrow to the north. Where it lands, it burns. I run west while Antelope gallops to the snowy fumes, digs his horns in the ground, rends it in all four directions, and finds nada.

When I catch you, son of Ben, I’ll roast your brains over a fire. He gallops toward me from the east.

“You’ll never catch me, Antelope. You’re too headstrong.” I shoot an arrow to the east. Where it lands, black smoke. I run north while Antelope bounds to the ink-dark fumes, digs with his hooves, gouges the ground in all four directions, and finds zilch.

When I catch you, blood of Cochise, I’ll bake your guts like mescal and feed them to Javelina. He pivots and trots at me from the south.

“You’ll never catch me, Antelope. You’re too undisciplined.” I shoot an arrow to the south. Where it lands, blue smoke. I run east while Antelope leaps to the cerulean haze, furrows the ground with his nose in all four directions, and finds zero.

When I catch you, Tooahyaysay, I’ll hang you from an oak. He whirls and comes from the west.

“You’ll never catch me, Antelope. You’re too fatigued.” I shoot an arrow to the west. Where it lands, yellow smoke. I run south while Antelope crawls to the vermillion puff, licks a cross on the ground, and dies.I grab his horns, wrench off his head, and set it atop his beheaded body.

One Once Known as Geronimo reappears. So you had your say in things. Killed all four, hey. No one has since Child-of-Water. Shit, I’d ride with you in battle, shikisn. From what I seen, you’ll win yours today.

Thanks to you and the others.

We taught nothing. We only restored your connection to Power.

Will anyone survive today?

You can’t go into battle thinking about that. War to the knife, people die. Try to keep your soldiers from harm, you wind up killing em faster and losin’ the battle. Anything else?

What should I ask?

You’re humble. Arrogance undid me. Let me ask the fuckin questions. What’re you scared of now?

Failing. Not being brave enough to die unquestioning and uncomplaining.

You will. What do you want more than anythin’ and shit like that?

Justice, goddamnit. I want justice if it kills me!

Then fight for it. Long as one of us is alive, the Chiricahua have a future. Men will hunt. Women will gather. One last piece of advice. Never surrender. Travel in time and space. Fire. Beasts. Water.

BAM! LIGHTNING! THUNDER!

One Once Known as Geronimo spurs his pony east and disappears without a tracer.

Ancestors. Death coming. Horror.

April 1, 2024

About the writer

Tommy Cheis is a Chiricahua Apache writer and medicine leader. After traveling extensively through distant lands, meeting interesting people, and picking up a degree along the way, he now resides in southeastern Arizona with his horses. His short stories will appear in the Carpe Noctem anthology, Desert Exposure, Blue Mesa Review, The Rumen, and other publications. His first novel, RARE EARTH, is under submission. View his work at www.tommycheis.com