The water cooled her aching hands. As summer progressed, the clay became drier and more difficult to work. Here toward the end, Enonai found she was looking forward to firing and painting, more than shaping. This would complete only her second year of making, but the master potter had said her hands were magic. Enonai smiled at the memory as she held the new pot gently over the rushing stream and cupped water to it, rinsing away the silt and slurry, to make a smooth surface.

When she was satisfied that the pot was properly cleaned, she set it carefully on the large flat rock with the others. She looked up at the waning light. The days grew shorter and it would soon be time to move the camp south across the canyon again. Enonai and the parched earth would both be happy for the rains to come. Since childhood she'd thought how funny it was that the rains seemed to wash the People from the mesa to the valley.

Her eyes scanned the horizon a little longer. She was accustomed to seeing the hunters and warriors drift back into camp at this time of day. So far, she had seen only a few. It made her wonder as she leaned a bit further in her crouch by the stream. She took much time in rinsing the clay from her hands and arms, enjoying the cool freshness.

Enonai's peaceful moments by the stream were harshly broken by the sounds of angry yelling and screams of terror. It struck through her heart as she turned quickly to look back at the camp, some distance from her. It seemed to be exploding with people and dust and horses and the Coats. The Coats had come!

There had been some concern all summer that the Coats might find them. Scouts learned that many raids by one camp of People on the Flats had made the Coats and pale villagers angry. They didn't see differences among the People, so if one caused injury, then all must be punished... or so it seemed.

Finally Enonai broke from her fright and rose up. She gathered up her skirt and ran toward the horrific sounds. She wanted to run the other way, but most of the hunters and warriors were still out and there were children to protect. She had to see what she could do to get some of them away safely! At least, she had to try.

On approach, she saw Coats chasing down the women and children, dragging them to the ceremonial post in the center of the camp. They were hitching them all to the post, wrapping their necks and hands with leather strips. They harnessed the smaller children around the neck and waist, too tightly. She feared the Coats would snap them. As she pondered how to stop this, she was knocked aside by a Coat who had skirted around the outside of the camp.

He was surprised too but it was Enonai who had to scramble off the ground. She moved very slowly at first, watching as he gauged his quarry. His pale eyes glared at her from his colorless skin. His face and nearly white hair and beard were so stark against the dark uniform and cap. She felt as though the stare of some evil spirit was on her. Now she had a new challenge, keeping herself from ending up tied to the post.

Finally Enonai got to her feet and broke into a run again, back the way she had come. It took nothing for the Coat to pace her. He was much taller and he'd already been stirred up by the attack on the camp. She felt hands grab at her skirt but freed herself until the Coat was close enough to catch her hair, then she was whipped around in an anguished cry.

He yelled things at her then hissed other things. She had no notion what his strange utterings meant. He slapped her face, turning her head in tears, then pushed her to the ground, onto her back. She cried out further, but knew it would not be heard among the sounds of the battle continuing within the camp.

She let her voice go silent as she struck at him. Maybe she could find some opportunity to run from him again. The Coat dashed this hope as he sat over her hips, pinning her. He grabbed her fisted hands and tied her wrists together with a long strip of leather he'd slipped from inside his dark blue coat. He pushed her hands behind her head and tied the ends of the strap over her throat, just as the others had done to the women and children in camp. She would be taken to join them now, she assumed.

The Coat looked down from his perch over her. Her chest rose and fell in heavy breath. Her wide eyes glared at him. He slowly grinned and something more frightening appeared in his eyes. The words he said sounded different but still meant nothing to her. She saw him look over his shoulder a moment but when he turned back, his ghostly grin was still there. His hands spread over her chest and she called out while wriggling beneath him, but she had no leverage to move him. His fingers slipped to the neck of her blouse and abruptly ripped it open.

Enonai turned her face away as much as the leather at her neck would allow. She closed her eyes and began praying, chanting, asking the earth to swallow her up and remove her from these pale eyes burning her soul. She begged to be spared from these evil hands burning her skin with their touch. Her chanting became louder as the Coat curled over her. His shoulder crushed against her neck and shoulders as he shifted and worked his hands beneath her skirt, pushing upward. His knees forced hers apart as he bunched up her skirt around her waist.

The Coat's weight upon her was stifling, but still she chanted and begged for help. She choked against his crushing shoulder as he worked to unfasten his trousers. She could feel his hands brushing her bareness.

His weight shifted again and she breathed more easily but her face was still pressed against his midnight wool coat. The smell of it was horrid. It smelled like him, like she'd heard of all of them, like all the death they had carried to the People. Beneath that, something pungent was stinging her eyes, or perhaps it was her tears welling up.

His hot breath kept speaking things in her ear but she chanted louder not to hear it, then her voice screamed out against the wool as he pierced her. She suddenly felt forced open, filled as never before, for until this moment, she had not known such a thing. He rocked over her and each movement took her breath with his force.

In between, she prayed aloud to the earth again. Could it not return her to clay, as before she was born, as before this event reshaped her? When the Coat stopped his painful motion, Enonai thought for a moment that her prayer would be answered but he did not move. In fact, his weight grew heavier. She panted for air in her confusion. He was still within her though slipping away and yet his body crushed her. She began to sob quietly as she feared this was her end. There was only his weight and then... a tickle across her neck below the tight leather strap.

Suddenly the midnight wool no longer pressed against her cheek. The Coat's weight rolled away from her, letting her catch a deep breath of fresh air. She pressed her eyes closed more tightly for now she felt the air move between her legs too and over her exposed breasts. She was afraid to move or look at him or guess what he might do next.

She felt a shadow fall over her. Fingers worked at the leather strap around her neck. The cold blade of a knife slipped under it and Enonai cried out. She knew now that the Coat was going to kill her.

Instead she heard a gentle voice shushing as the leather strap was cut. She opened her eyes to see a bronze face and warm brown eyes looking down at her, though his brow was furrowed. So reassuring to see lengths of raven black hair framing a face she knew from her own camp. She blinked away the tears, trying to keep focusing on that face, as he reached past her neck to cut the strap at her wrists.

( Continued Page 2)