Hillerman, Tony - [Leaphorn & Chee 04] by jpg] People Of Darkness (v1) [html

falling," Chee said. "Monster Slayer gave him a haircut."
    The ancient lava flow made fairly easy walking. Eons of time had rubbed away its roughness and turned its blackness gray. It was coated with lichens, and grass grew wherever dust had accumulated in its cracks. Chee talked of Navajo mythology. Mary Landon listened. He was carrying a grocery sack which contained a thermos of coffee, two apples, and two king-sized Lottaburgers picked up in Grants. Chee hadn't been on a picnic since school days. He was happy. To their right, the morning sun reflected off the snow on the high slopes of Mount Taylor, making it glitter against the dark-blue sky.
    "We call it Turquoise Mountain," Chee said. "First Man built it out of earth he brought up from the Third World, and he pinned it to the world with a magic knife to keep it from flying away. He put Turquoise Girl on top of it, to keep the Navajos safe from monsters, and he assigned Big Snake to live on the mountain for eternity, to keep Turquoise Girl safe from whatever bothers Turquoise Girls."
    "Speaking of big snakes," Mary Landon said. "Am I right in remembering that they hibernate in the winter, and I therefore have absolutely nothing to worry about? Or is that hibernation business just another of your myths?"
    She was climbing a great hump of lava. Just beyond it were the tamarisks and the spring. "When are you going to tell me your war name?"
    "It's a good rule to stay off those humps when you're walking on lava," Chee said. "They're the tops of old bubbles, and about one in twenty thousand is thin enough so that you can fall through and…"
    Chee's voice trailed away. Mary had stopped atop the hump and stood frozen, looking down.
    "Jim," she said. "There's someone…"
    Chee scrambled up beside her.
    Just beyond the hump was a sinkhole, a circle of clear, dark water rimmed by cattails and a species of green reed. This was surrounded, in turn, by a small expanse of buffalo grass. The man wore a red-and-black mackinaw and his black hat lay beside his head. His hands were together behind his back, secured by what seemed to be an electric cord.
    "I think he's dead," Mary Landon said in a very small voice.
    "I'll see," Chee said. The left hand looked distorted, and coated with something dark. "I think you should wait in the truck."
    "All right," Mary said.
    The kneeling man was Tomas Charley. The black on his hand was blood, long dried. But when Chee placed his fingers on Charley's neck to confirm the certainty that he was dead, he found the flesh resilient and warm. He stepped quickly back from the body and studied the area around him. Tomas Charley had been dead only a matter of minutes. Chee became intensely aware that his pistol, inappropriate for a picnic with a girl, was locked in the glove box of the patrol car. Perhaps Tomas Charley had been left here hours ago and had been a long time dying. And perhaps he had been killed only moments ago, which would mean his killer must be nearby. Chee glanced at the body again. There was no sign of what had killed him. The only blood visible was from the hand. Chee grimaced. The hand had been methodically mutilated. He examined the mackinaw, looking in vain for a bullet hole. Then he noticed a place where the black hair on the back of Charley's head had been scorched. He knelt beside the body and gently parted the hair. Beneath it, the skin over the skull had been punctured, leaving a small round hole. A bullet hole, probably no larger than a .22. Turquoise Girl had not kept this half-Navajo safe from the monsters.
    The sound of the car starting was close. It came from beyond the tamarisks. Chee trotted around the pool toward it, conscious that the driver was probably armed. The car, he saw when he reached the screen of brush, was a green-and-white Plymouth—the one that had been parked beside Charley's car. It was moving away from him down the track. He couldn't see the driver. Chee turned and scrambled up the lava formation. When the