"Philip is not like your father."

"No," I agreed.

"This could not wait for tomorrow? Or the skies to clear?"

I shifted on the horseback.

"You came for a different reason," he assessed.

"Something bad is going to happen," I said vaguely. "I want to warn your chief."

"What?" The edge in his voice grew sharper.

Shit. I happened to be with a man who believed me to be dangerous rather than foolish. I sorted through his memories, realizing he still thought I was threatening his chief.

"I mean no harm," I said quickly. "The threat doesn't come from me, and it's not directed at your family."

Lightning cracked once more overhead. This time, it was accompanied by a gust of wind and a sudden sheet of cold rain. I closed my eyes to the onslaught, irked by how fast the raindrops soaked my thick dress.

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"What danger comes?" he asked.

Even with the wind wailing in my ears, I was able to determine just how serious he was about me answering the question. His thoughts weren't on taking me to his village but holding me hostage until I broke down and told him. And there was something else. Someone else …

A cave in a canyon, too dark to see into, one he was trying hard not to think about.

"No!" I cried. "You are not taking me to your brother!"

"Give me a reason not to, Talks to Spirits."

My heart was pounding louder than the grumbling thunder. "Okay. I'll tell you. You're going to think I'm crazy, though."

"We have passed that point."

I rolled my eyes. "When your chief passes in four days, you or your brother will begin to commit violence and raids. This leads to the eventual deaths of almost a million people over the next hundred years." My brow furrowed. The image was of him being there and then not. The technology in my head was once more unable to tell any difference between him and his brother.

He was silent and I sensed, shocked.

"Whatever happens that day, it is the beginning of a war, one that ends with all the Indian tribes being nearly destroyed."

"It is not possible for anyone to know this."

"But I do." I told him firmly. "So, I want to talk to your uncle and tell him. He is like my father and believes in peace. Maybe he will be able to stop this before it starts."

His memories were sorrowful and angry, on his murdered family once more. He had issues for sure, but I wasn't able to tell if they were enough to motivate him to act or if the threat really came from his brother. The images in my head were inconsistent once again.




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