Part One
For a while after she awoke, Nacatoh lay in the bed holding the man she loved. Niles Verner had left the town of Gotham because it had been getting too busy for him. He rode far north to where he set up a trading post. Dealing with the nearby Atapoh indian village, he met the indian maiden who he fell in love with. Only weeks before, the chief of the village held a ceremony to bind them as mates, to forever be in each other's hearts and minds. But this morning worried Nacotah. Also known in her tribe as the Priestess, she knew that today was the time for the ceremony. She would do the ritual and speak to Dasaina, Goddess of the Elements. What would her diety think of the servant marrying a white man?
She went to the clearing, disrobed and stood only wearing the necklace of power. Beads of hammered silver that alternated with small, semi-precious stones on a thin chain, it was not merely decorative, but a mantle of the position of Priestess that channeled power directly from Dasaina to her servant. It was late in the fall, and the cold wind blew, but she felt no chill. Nacotah drew a pattern in the earth, placed a dish of clear water in the center, and struck steel on flint to send sparks into the pile of tinder that she had also gathered there. Flames and smoke joined earth and water. The four elements were there for the ceremony. The Priestess began to chant praises for the Goddess she adored. She knelt down and placed her forehead against the earth. As her chants went on, the air aound the area moved, forming a wall of wind around the clearing. The small fire in the center was not effected, and the smoke continued to slowly rise straight up to the celestial home of the Goddess. Nacotah spoke the final chant, and waited. Would the Goddess come? The Priestess knew that she had done this ritual every year and before that her mother, and her mother's mother had done so. The Goddess had always come, to accept the praise of her people. But this time, Nacotah worried. When she brought her head up, would Dasaina be there? The Priestess looked up, and was happy to see the large, semi-transparent glowing figure of a extremely beautiful nude woman in the air above the clearing. "Goddess, I praise you and thank you for once again honoring the Atapoh with your presence." Again the indian woman dropped her forehead to the ground. She listened for the powerful voice that thundered in her mind, but was never heard by any of those outside the clearing. "Hello, Nacotah. Get up. I value your worship and the love of all the Atopah who are the children I so dearly love. I see in your thoughts you worry about your recent actions. Do not do so. I can see you love this man and he also loves you dearly. Be he from another tribe or from the strange world of the whites, he is just a man. Love him and bear his children. Your first daughter will be a priestess. She will worship me and I will bestow my love on her, as I love you." Nacotah stood up as the Goddess raised her arms up and energy was channeled from the heavens through the Goddess and into the Priestess. The necklace glowed and pulsated on her as the indian priestess' feet left the ground, her body finally hovering in mid-air several feet off the ground. The winds around the clearing went faster and faster, starting to act like a tornado. Nacotah's arms went straight up, and long sheets of flame went skyward from her fingertips. The ground beneath her trembled and seemed to move up and down. Finally the Priestess brought her arms down to her sides, and she slowly descended to earth, as rain fell in the clearing, first lightly, but then in torrents. Despite all of this, the markings in the earth and the small fire were not disturbed. The rain stopped and within minutes, the area dried up. All was back to as it was when Nacotah started. She looked up and saw the figure of her Goddess slowly fade away. She bent down to put on her clothes when she saw Niles standing on the edge of the clearing. His mouth was agape, and he stood there until his wife moved over to him. She looked into his eyes. Niles spoke. "I... I told you I believed you when you spoke of this, but I guess I didn't think it could be as... amazing... as you described it. I was afraid for you when I saw all that, but I see you are safe. What did she say...?" The indian woman smiled in her husband's face and said. "The Goddess said that I love you and you love me and she is pleased about it."
Nacotah and Niles had nine children and the first-born, Inga, grew up to learn the ways and rituals of a priestess of Dasaina. But as the white settlers crowded into the Atopah land the indians suffered. Smallpox and cholera ran through the tribe and soon nearly all the tribe had been wiped out or assimilated by the white settlers. Inga's daughter sickened and died while giving birth to her daughter. And this priestess of Dasaina grew up knowing very little of her heritage and unaware of the rituals and duties. Years went by when the ceremony was not held. In the celestial firmament, a goddess shed a tear for what had been done to her people. But the line went on. Daughters had daughters. Each young woman was always blessed by a loving husband. No priestess of the Goddess ever failed to find her true love. For Dasaina held the power of the elements, but she was also the diety of true love and gave that to the women who did not even know her.
Part Two
Mary Stocks, a descendent of Priestess Nacotah, married a John Cabot and they saved up money to move out west and make a better life for themselves and their children. In 1877 when their oldest daughter, Evelynn, was ten years old, the family took their savings and set out west with a group of other settlers. When they reached the Dakota Territory, their group was attacked by a renegade band of thieves who masqueraded as indians to loot passing wagon trains. When the Cabot wagon was attacked, it tried to flee, but overturned. Young Lynn was thrown to the ground and knocked unconscious. When she woke later, she found her parents and siblings dead and the rest of the wagon train had been wiped out or scattered. She sat there crying when a Dakotah warrior named Little Ax rode by and found her. He bent down and comforted the little dark haired girl. He took the orphan back to his village where he presented her to the head of the tribe, Chief Tahama. The old indian looked into the eyes of the child and he sensed she was a young woman of great destiny. So the chief and his wife adopted the girl and raised her as their own. She grew to a fine young woman, and eventually wanted to avenge her parent's death. She said she wanted to train as a warrior, which was unheard of in the tribe. But the tribe's shaman, in a trance to communicate with the Great Spirit, said the girl had a powerful spirit guide who also wished this path for her. Lynn, called Found Girl by the tribe, learned the ways of the warrior and soon was a respected member of the tribe.
Lynn tracked down the men who had killed her family, all those years back, and went after them to avenge those deaths. When she got there, she attacked, but the men overpowered her. Held down, Found Girl's clothes were ripped off and the men prepared to have their way with her. She laid there naked, but on her throat was a simple chain with silver beads and small semi-precious stones. It was the one momento left to her by her murdered mother, and she'd worn it since that fateful day. As one of the thugs stuck his dick into the pussy of the prisoner, he reached to pull the necklace off her and she thought, "Great Spirit, will no one help me?" The necklace suddenly gave off a green glow. There was a rumble, and a huge translucent glowing figure of a woman appeared over the girl who was at the mercy of the killers. "You will not end her line! The priestesses of Dasaina will go on!" The Goddess' finger pointed, and a shaft of energy went to the captured young woman. Her body grew hot, and the men holding her down jumped back with burned fingers. Lynn got up and began striking out at the men, who went to the ground from her blows. Some of them pulled their guns and blasted at her, but the bullets stopped at her skin and dropped to the ground, little pools of molten lead. She kept lashing out at the gang and soon they had all succumbed to her attack. After it was over, she started to come to her senses, and found all the men were dead. She had no regrets about this, as every one of them had been a cold-blooded murderer many times over. As she got re-dressed, she found the hair at her crotch and on her head had turned a fiery red.
Returning to the tribe, she told them about what had happened and the shaman said he was not surprised. A powerful spirit was connected to Evelynn Cabot, now renamed in the tribe as Firehair. He told Lynn that Dasaina was not a Goddess worshipped by the Dakotah, but she was respected due to what they had heard from travelers from the east. There were a few things he taught Firehair about the Goddess, but regrettably the proper ritual was not one of them. Firehair continued to serve as a warrior with the tribe and to offer thanks at the Dakota rituals for her diety. The red-haired woman never again showed the power she had that day against the killers, but she was respected in the tribal councils nearly as much as the chief. She fought hard to keep the peace between the whites and her tribe, and several times negotiated peace between them. She fell in love with a rancher in the area, and they were married. They had several children, the oldest of which was a daughter, Katarina. When Lynn died years later, the necklace was passed down to this young woman, a Priestess of Dasaina who knew only a little about her legacy.
Part Three
Little six-year old Rebecca Hooper was getting ready to join her friends on a trip to the park. There was a fresh covering of snow outside, and her sliding saucer waited outside the door. Donna told her, "No, Becky, you can't go until I find your scarf! Where did you put it?" Becky pouted. "Mom, I thought I put it right here. Can't I go anyway? I don't feel that cold." Donna smiled. So her daughter also had that ability. From her youngest years, Donna Hooper had been able to endure very cold or very hot weather without much discomfort. It was only in her teens that she began to feel the ability to adjust the composition in her body that allowed her to become the famous super-heroine, The Shady Lady. Would Rebecca gain some kind of super-abilty when she grew up and follow in her mother's footsteps to fight crime? That would be exciting. But now, where was that scarf? The ability to withstand extreme temperatures had its limits, and if she spent too much time out in the snow and cold wind, Becky would eventually have it begin to effect her and she'd catch a nasty cold! "Well, I can't find your scarf, young lady, so you will have to use Great-Grandma Emily's shawl. Do you promise to take extra special care of it? If you lose it, I will be very mad at you, and Great-Grandma will probably cry." Becky grabbed the brightly colored woolen wrap her Mom had pulled out of the back of the closet and her eyes widened. The green shawl was covered in beads in a rainbow of geometric shapes and colors and Becky always thought it was so beautiful. The little girl wrapped it around her neck and held it tight. "I promise Mom, I will be extra careful. I would never want anything happen to this!"
The child went out the front door and joined several of her friends from school and, accompanied by a couple of the mothers, walked through the cold winter day towards the park. As they approached, Becky cried, "Last one there is a stick-in-the-mud!" and started to run. But there was one more street to cross, and in her enthusiasm, the future heroine failed to look before crossing. One of the escorting mothers, Mrs. Thompkins, suddenly shouted, "Becky, look out!" Rebecca looked to her right and saw a delivery truck barreling towards her! She tried to scamper back out of the street, but she was on an icy patch and her feet went out from under her. The truck's driver saw her, and slammed on his brakes, but the road was slippery. Becky's eyes widened with terror as she scambled helplessly on the icy pavement with the truck skiding right at her. The group of her friends and their escorts screamed as the truck reached the spot where Becky lay.
But an instant before Becky would have been hit, the old shawl began to give off a low green glow. Becky's legs suddenly found a grip on the pavement and she jumped away. All on the side of the street were stunned when the truck slid by and they saw Rebecca sitting in a snowbank on the other side of the street, unharmed. They crossed the street and Mrs. Palmer wrapped her hands around the little girl, chastising her. "Rebecca Emily Hooper, you should never run out in the steet like that! You could have been very, very badly hurt!" Becky was shaking, as she looked back in the street. Her saucer had been dropped there and the aluminum disc had been totalled mangled when the truck went over it.
The sledding party turned back, as the ladies insisted that Becky be taken home. "Your mother should know what happened and you can go sledding tomorrow." was Mrs. Palmer's decision. As they turned to go, Mrs. Thompkins stopped to pick up the damaged saucer and looked at the snow in the street. There were the tracks of vehicles there, but from the spot the truck nearly hit Rebecca to the spot in the snowbank where the group had found her, there were not any of Becky's bootprints. The woman puzzled. The little girl must have run out of the path of the truck, but why where there no prints? It almost appeared that the youngster had lept fifteen feet to save herself. But that was impossible...
Part Four
Becky was not told that her parents, Patrick Hooper and Donna Hooper (nee Gilbert) had been famous costumed characters until she was twelve. They told her it was a very big secret and they had kept it from her until they felt she was old enough to realise how important it was. Rebecca was amazed to learn of this, as she had always been a huge fan of super-heroines, especially Wonder Woman. To find out her own mother had been a famous heroine... Wow! A few days later, when Dad brought Great-Grandma Emily from her nursing home for a visit, the very old woman came in the door shivering. She pulled the old multi-colored shawl from her neck. "My, it's cold out there. I never felt it when I was young. Hello, Rebecca Emily. How are you. So, I hear you finally know about your heritage of herodom. Do you think you will someday be a crime-fighter like your Mom and I were?" Becky was surprised by this and asked. "Great-Grandma, you mean you were a crimefighter too?" The woman sat on the couch and waved Rebecca to join her. "Yes, for a little while. Back then, it wasn't easy. Women were not encouraged to get into what was thought of as 'men's work' in those days. During World War One, I wore a blue costume and fought saboteurs and the Kaiser's spies as Aqua Woman. I had power over water and mist, and stopped a German sub from attacking a troopship full of our boys when it left Granite City harbor to go over there. Got a medal for that. After the war I gave it up, married your great-grandfather and spent time in the women's suffrage movement. And I raised your grandma, of course. Was really happy when her daughter decided to become a crime fighter. Made me proud. Oh, and why I'm here. She waved her arm at Becky's dad, who held a large flat package wrapped in brown paper. "Bring that here, Patrick, I want Becky to see them." The package was about two feet by three feet and several inches thick. Becky pulled away at the wrapping and found inside several large scrapbooks. When she flipped them open, she saw that on the pages were pasted newspaper clippings of stories about her family. The first book had articles about the exploits of Aqua Woman in the front, followed by clippings about the suffragette movement. The other books had the exploits of The Shady Lady, from her first adventures, which were mentioned in little back-page news stories, to huge front page banners that exclaimed when The Shady Lady had stopped a nefarious villain's plot and saved the city. Becky turned and gave her great-grandmother a big hug. Afterwards, Rebecca spent many a day leafing through the books to read about the past exploits of her famous family. Her dad also brought out a box that held old papers with stories about his work. Becky bought another scrapbook and pasted her Dad's clippings into it.
Years later, Rebecca Hooper had a busy time in high school. She competed in the girl's track team for a couple of years, and the long jump was her specialty. Then, with her body developing into a very lovely young woman, she participated in the cheerleading squad, making head cheerleader in her senior year. By that time, she had talked over her plans to become a costumed heroine and fight crime like her parents had done, years before. They agreed, and made her promise to train and get ready, but not to start until her nineteenth birthday. And after that birthday, she became a costumed hero. The famous Glory Girl!
Part Five
Becky sat at the kitchen table with her toast and yogurt, flipping though the paper. Suddenly, an article in the feartures section caught her eye. "Oh, wow! Mom, did you see this?" she cried. Donna came over to glance over her daughter's shoulder, and she looked over the article. Granite City Museum was opening an exhibit of artifacts of the old, nearly extinct Atapoh tribe that lived many years ago in the area. The Native American Institute of Tulsa was loaning material from its collections to allow the Museum to pay tribute to the original inhabitants of Granite City. Donna skimmed the article and then asked, "Very nice Becky, but why did you find it so..." "The picture, Mom, look at it!" Becky broke in. and jabbed furiously with her finger at the paper. Donna's eyes swung to the photo of a young woman, obviously of native amarican descent, holding a colorful beaded indian buckskin jacket. Then it was Donna's turn to react with surprise. She gasped. "Oh my! The design looks like Great-Grandma's old shawl!" Becky had lept up and went to the front hall closet. She reached up and pulled out a box, in which she found that old shawl that Great-Grandma had left to Becky in her will. Without any details why, the will had specified that it go to Becky, and then to Becky's first born daughter. This statement had been taken with shock by the young lady. She had been only fifteen when Great-Grandma Emily died. Donna's mother, who also was named Emily, could offer no explanation for why her mother would have phased her bequest so strangely.
Rebecca brought the shawl into the kitchen, and although the photo in the paper was not too sharp, it seemed the patterns were the same. The two women decided they would visit the Museum to see if they could find out more about the resemblance. That afternoon, they entered the Museum and walked back to the rotating exhibit area, where the Atapoh material was on display. Looking around, they spotted the case with the jacket as well as the young woman who had been in the photo in the paper. While Donna looked over the display, Rebecca approached the woman, who was looking over the exhibits one last time to see if everything was set up properly. "Excuse me, could we ask you something about the jacket?" Becky requested. The woman turned to respond, and introduced herself. "Oh, hello. I am Dr. Katara Meoquanee. You are interested in it? It's one of the best pieces we have here. A small jacket, it is said to have been the jacket worn at tribal celebrations by an Apotah maiden, Nacotah. She was a priestess who performed rituals to honor the Goddess Dasaina. She lived in this area when the first settlers moved in, and she married one of the first men who set up a trading post. He was one of the whites who treated the tribe fairly and was a friend to all of them. Not like the ones that followed! Exactly what did you want to..." The Doctor's word trailed off as she saw Donna pull the shawl from her bag. "Oh my," she continued. "Most native american artifacts were treated badly in the early 1800's. Priceless items were destroyed, which is why we value the jacket so highly. But in the early-to-mid 1900's the designs came into vogue and copies of the treasures were produced. You seem to have something like that which probably... Wait. Could I have a closer look at that?" She took a small magnifying glass from her purse and began looking very closely at the item. "That's very weird. The stitching, the thread, the beads are all unmistakenly mid-late 1800's Dakota. But the designs are the symbols of the priestess of Dasaina. That doesn't make sense. The goddess was never worshipped by the Dakota, only by the tribes along the north-eastern United States. Would you mind if we went back to the laboratory to allow me to take a closer look at it?"
As they walked through the corridors back to the workroom, Dr. Meoquanee asked them about the shawl. They told her it had been handed down, daughter to daughter, over many generations. She nodded at this. "That's interesting. The priestess-hood of Dasaina also was matriarcal. Passed down daughter to daughter." The Doctor moved to a table and laid the shawl out flat and took out a powerful examination unit that combined a large ground glass surrounded by a round flourescent light. "I was right," she said. "... Dakotah made this, and they must have known something about the goddess Dasaina to apply the proper symbols. They must have... Wait. This is in pretty good shape, but there is a little wear along the edge. Down here by the hem." As Katara ran her finger along the shawl, she paused. "It's almost like there is something in the hem here, to reinforce it or..." She gasped and reached across the table for a tweezers. She went to a spot on the hem where it was worn the most, and pushed the tweezers into the gap worn into the fabric where it was folded over. She probed, and caught ahold of... something. She tugged gently, and a small silver bead slid out. She was visibly shaken as she sat down at the table and proceeded to work further on the shawl. She lightly pulled at the bead, and then a chain of beads and small torquoise, agate and quartz stones slid out. The Doctor's hands shook as she picked up the delicate necklace and held it up to the light. Her voice also shook as she spoke. "I... I've read about this. It was described in several old texts and colonial letters. It's the actual necklace of Dasaina that was worn by the priestess in the annual ceremony of worship for the goddess. This artifact is the most culturally valuble item in the history of the Atapoh. It was thought lost many years ago." A man walked over to the table from another part of the room and looked at what had been found. He was a red-skinned, tall man in a deerskin jacket and he sneered at the women. "One more piece of our culture stolen by the white men and kept as a bauble in some drawer. Or as a trinket for some European woman to flaunt for her pleasure." The man glared with distaste at Rebecca. Katara Meoquanee glanced up and remarked. "Oh. Professor Liwok Sewati. These are Donna and Rebecca Hooper, who were kind enough to bring this item to my attention." He snorted. "They didn't even know what they had. Now they'll probably put it on eBay for some German collector to buy up." Becky turned to the man. "Sir, that has been passed down for many generations in my family and we would never sell it!" He snorted and walked away. Dr. Meoquanee spoke to the other two ladies. "I must apologize for his attitude. He takes personally everything that was ever done to the tribes and blames all whites for everything, even if they came from Europe last week. Ahh... can I take some photographs of this? I want to document it before you decide what to do with it." Becky glaced into her mother's eyes, then spoke. "Well, legally it was left to me by my great-grandmother, so it's mine. And I would like you to include it in your exhibit about the Atopah. You can mark it as on loan by the Hooper family." The indian woman gasped at this and wrapped her arms around Becky. "Oh, thank you. Call me Katara. We researchers of the native american past are always so happy to find something that had been thought lost over the years. Representatives of all the tribes will travel to see this fantastic artifact, and the handful of people who still trace their lineage back to the Atopah people will be very grateful for a chance to see it. It will be like a Christian having a chance to see the Holy Grail."
Part Six
Becky and her parents were invited to be guests of honor when the Atopah exhibit was to be re-dedicated to include the necklace. The event was scheduled for a date a few days away in order to allow several native americans of note to attend. Becky spent those days online. With the help of Arnie, her boyfriend, she had done genealogical research to try to trace back her ancestry. She found, on her Mom's side she could go back to a Evelynn Cabot, who married a Thomas Grant in 1889 out in South Dakota. A book about the history of the region said she was raised by the Dakota after being orphaned while traveling west with her family, who came from the north-east. Rebecca thought that she would have to pass this information on to Katara as it might give a clue about the mystery. This Lynn Cabot might be the one who made the shawl and hid the necklace in it. And she might have come from the Apotah lands! That would mean... Becky and Donna might be part indian! With what she had learned in the past few days about the tribes from Katara and from her own reading, she would be really proud to have a little of that in her heritage. Only, now she kept thinking back to all those cowboys-and-injuns movies she watched and felt a little ashamed for the side she rooted for.
The night before the big event at the museum, Rebecca was too hyper to sleep and decided to make a run around the city as Glory Girl. Excited as she was, she could not help but swing over to the part of town where the museum was located. She rode her bike past the building, thinking about the event coming up. She slammed the brakes on and skidded to a halt as she heard the unmistakable sound of a woman's scream come out of the museum! She went to the back entrance, but it was locked. She pulled out her picks and opened the door. She thought that the alarm system would kick in and bring the police roaring up. That would probably be a good idea if there was something going on here. But as she opened the door, she heard nothing. The alarms had been silenced! She moved through the darkened rooms and corridors of the museum (a very scary experience!) and again heard a scream. She headed toward the side of the museum from which the sound had come, and entered a large room that held a mixture of displays devoted to varied indian cultures. In the center was a large stone disc, labeled a copy of a sacrificial platform used by the Aztecs. Tied down on the stone was the naked figure of Katara Meoquanee! The young woman's eyes were closed and she was sobbing. She looked like she had been raped, and Rebecca ran over to her and reached down to loosen her bindings. "Dr. Meoquanee, who did this to you?" The indian woman opened her eyes and sobbed. "Oh... help me, please, before he comes back... Look out!" The prisoner's eyes had been staring into Glory Girl's, but they shifted to spot something to her right. Rebecca tried to turn to see what it was, but an arm holding an aztec war club swung down and the weapon smacked into her skull.
Glory Girl didn't know how long she was out, but she realized at once that she was in great danger. Now she was the one who was tied spread out on the stone disc, naked and vulnerable. And she groaned as she realized he had taken her mask off! To the side, she saw Katara laying on the floor. She was bound, gagged and her eyes were wide with fear. A man approached her. It was Liwok Sewati, the other artifacts expert. The man wore an eagle head formed of feathers over his own, and sleeves of long feathers swept out from his arms. His tunic and loincloth.were trimmed in mulricolored beaded designs. He looked at her with disdain and spoke. "I see you have awakened. Good. You will be another woman I will take on the altar of sacrifice. First I will rape you, pulling the power from your body. But Meoquanee was not a virgin and neither are you. That is a disappointment. Every woman who I take on this altar builds my power, and if they are a virgin it will greatly multiply the energy I receive. Each victim I sacrifice on the ceremonial stone will be a source of energy to me twice. First when I rape her, and then when her blood flows over the stone as she dies. It is proper that the first two victims are a native american traitor who befriends and works with the whites and a descendant of a white who stole this from the native people." He held up Dasaina's necklace, and wrapped it around his wrist. "Everyone thinks this disc is a copy, but it is the actual ceremonial stone I had smuggled up here to start my holy war against the invaders. I will take their women to build my power and use sex and sacrifice to destroy the rest of them. I have the help of Huitzilopochtli, lost diety of the Aztecs, who will stand above me, drinking the blood I offer him. Three billion colonials will be erased from this continent as the true people regain it. I am a pipiltin, a noble of the Aztec world who will become emperor of the new American nation that will rise from the bloddy ashes of what I destroy." Becky strained against her bonds, trying to pull loose. "You won't succeed!" Becky cried out at him. "American superheroes willl battle you and overpower you."
The Aztec warrior laughed at her. "Their power will just be more energy for me to take. After you two have been sacrificed, my power will call the blonde-haired woman called Supergirl to me. I will rape her and pull untold resources of great power from her body. I have a sacrifial blade formed of the glowing stone, kryptonite, that I had made. It will carve out her heart as her blood is sacrificed to Huitzilopochtli. The heroines will be my source of power to destroy the heroes. I have many native amarican artifacts which will give me power. Soon I will learn the secret of Dasaina's necklace and that power will be added to mine. With Huitzilopochtli I will triumph!"
Becky's mind reeled at the prospect of what Sewai said. Was there any chance that the horrors could come to happen? Not just one city, but this warrior threatened the entire North American continent! Millions... no, BILLIONS would die in his holy war! Rebecca struggled and pulled as hard as she could against her bindings. She had to get free so that she could at least try to do something to stop this madman's plans. She felt the slightest bit of play in the bindings on her left wrist, and she used all the energy she could muster to pull at that area. Her left wrist felt like it was about to tear off, but she could not get that hand loose. Sewati dropped his loincloth to the floor and stepped up onto the disc. He laid down on top of Rebecca, his erect penis rubbing against her lower lips. He reached down and put his cock into her and thrust into her canal. She gasped at his swift, rough entry and screamed as he drove himself deep into her. He pumped his cock back and forth, and Becky felt an energy pusing through the stone she lay on. The energy grew in her body and she arched her body as an orgasm surged through her. The man's cock plunged deep into her and her cum poured into her. The warrior roared in triumph, and in the air above the stone a tanslucent, mystical being came into sight. The figure was dressed like Sewati, for the warrior's garb had been designed to copy that of his diety. A spectral voice boomed out. "Warrior, I am pleased at your activities. You offer me blood and souls and human sacrifice and I shall give you the limitless power you need to deliver more to me. Let the rivers of blood flow!" Becky shed tears for herself and for all the people who would die on the altar of this monster who served a god of death. The warrior straightened up while still over his victim, pulled a black obsidian blade from a sheath strapped to his arm and knelt over her, blade held high. "The rape of this heroine provided the power to let you come to me, Huitzilopochtli. Let her death mark the start of the holy war to destroy all our enemies!" As he began to swing the blade down, Becky strained even harder, and while the bindings tore away at some of the skin, her left hand pulled free! She swung it up and grabbed the wrist of Sewati's right hand, stopping the blade that was going for her throat. Around that wrist, under Becky's grasp, she felt the necklace and it seemed to pulse against her hand. A prayer formed in her mind. "Goddess Dasaina, please help me!"
A second spectal figure emerged in the air above the figures struggling on the altar disc. This was a glowing translucent figure of a beautiful nude woman, and her face shown with rage. Wind swirled in the room, and ceremonial torches mounted on the walls burst into flames. The entire building seemed to shake and if Becky were not still securely tied at her ankles and right wrist, she would have been thrown to the floor. "Aztec warrior, you go too far!" The words boomed out, and Becky's ears hurt from the sound of it. The goddess continued. "You bring your hand up to harm a Priestess of my people and you would sacrifice her! THIS WILL NOT BE!!!" A green glowing shaft of energy shot from the Goddess towards Sewati, and it struck his right hand. A bright light burst there and Rebecca blinked her eyes to avoid being blinded. She heard the obsidian blade shatter, and some of the fragments struck her face and body. She opened her eyes and saw the warrior's right arm ended in a skeletal hand -- the flesh had been burned away! She felt heat growing in the wrist she still held, and pulled her fingers back. Her fingers caught onto the necklace, and pulled it free of Sewati. As she lay on the stone disc, the figure of Sewati, kneeling over her, spasmed and twitched as the green fire coursed down his right arm to consume his entire body. Becky felt her restraints vanish, and she scrambled out from under the ash and bones of her attacker and rolled to the floor.
The Aztec god who hovered in the air suddenly spoke. "Goddess! You have destroyed my priest! This is an affront!" Dasaina turned, her face still burning with anger. "Huitzilopochtli, restrain yourself. It is eons past the time when gods battled gods, and you may think you have a chance against me. DO NOT FORGET THAT THE POWER OF LOVE IS SO MUCH GREATER THAN THE POWER OF DEATH!" Becky stared up at this confrontation, and was greatly priviledged. In all eternity, few mortals before her had ever seen a god back down in fear. Huitzilopochtli did so now, as he bowed his head in submission and slowly faded away. The spectral figure of the goddess slowly floated down to the ground and stood next to Becky. "Priestess Rebecca, your bravery and the love you have in your heart makes me proud of you. I have been too long away from the land of womankind. I set you a task." The hand of the goddess touched Becky's forehead, and her mind reeled as images formed there. She saw an indian maiden enter a small clearing and watched the ritual as it unfolded. The movements of the priestess and her words were burned into Becky's memory. "The task will be for your mother and for you. For your daughter and her daughter. Once again I shall receive the prayers of followers. Do not take this lightly. Do not expect me to come any time you beckon or to fight your battles. You must live your life, even if you are my Priestess. I will see you again. I will be pleased as I return to the firmament of the gods. Long has Aphrodite sung the praises of the mortal woman who serves as her champion. Now I too, will have champions on this world." Becky stood up and bowed, and the form of her diety slowly faded away. Becky tried to accept in her mind what she had just heard. The champion of Aphrodite? Oh, wow, That had to refer to Wonder Woman. Which meant she was going to be the champion of a Goddess, just like her favorite heroine. Her legs gave out and she sat down on the edge of the stone disc as this sank in. Awesome!
A muffled murmur came from the bound and gagged figure on the floor. Becky started, as she had so much flooding over her mind that she'd forgotten that Dr. Meoquanee lay there. She went over and untied her and helped her up. The woman gazed wide-eyed at Becky and at the charred remains of her attacker on the stone disc. Katara's voice came out, but could not manage to say much. "You... You... the Goddess.. and the god Huitzilopochtli... here in this very room... oh my God... er, Goddess.. Good heavens!" Rebecca put her arm around Katara's shoulders as the woman fainted.
The next day, Rebecca came to the museum and met Dr. Meoquanee in the workroom. Becky spoke "I wanted the necklace in the exhibit, but after I got home last night, when I took a shower I found it won't come off my neck." The historian had a puzzled look, as she did not see the necklace. Then Becky brought her hand to her throat. Suddenly the faint outline of the item began to appear followed by its appearance on Becky's throat. The doctor asked, "You mean it is an invisible part of your neck?." The blonde heroine spoke further. "Yes, I can feel it there but it is unseen unless I think about it being visible. This morning, my mother woke to find a duplicate of the necklace on her throat, also invisible and un-removeable. It makes sense. She preceeded me a generation as the oldest daughter in the line, so she too is a priestess of Dasaina. By the way, you know that Rebecca Hopper is the secret identity of Glory Girl. Can I ask you to keep this secret?" The woman looked up into Becky's eyes and smiled. "After what happened last night... being in the presence of Dasaina and seeing her power, I have to offer to be one of the first of her new followers. She saved my life. You saved my life. I would gladly do anything for the Goddess... or for her Priestess. In the exhibit I will have to be satisfied with photos of the necklace. I may send a set of photos to a Zuni silversmith I know out in New Mexico. He can make a copy for the museum. " Becky was pleased at Katara's response. "You realise, my friend, that my Mother and I will, on October 17th, be performing the ritual of homage to Dasaina. You are welcome to attend. " Dr. Meoquanee dropped to a knee on the floor and knelt at Rebecca's feet. "It will be my priviledge to be there, Priestess." Becky looked down at the woman paying homage to her, the Priestess of the Goddess Dasaina. Wow, she thought. This was going to take some getting used to!
Author's Notes:
Most of this story just popped into my head and flowed out of my mind, writing itself. I have a deep love of fictional characters who build huge histories for themselves. I love taking Glory Girl and suddenly building her story to where she is not just a heroine, but the culmination of generations of heroines. Her powers, and the powers of her mother, are not just happen-stance accidents, but the gifts of a powerful goddess. And I may expand those powers in future stories. What will Dasaina do for her? You shall see. Becky idolized Wonder Woman as she grew up. I'm shown you that. With this story she is becoming a even bigger heroine with interesting parallels to the Amazon.
What's coming up? I'm not really sure. I just had her save the lives of nearly every person on the continent of North America, and become the priestess of a goddess. How do I top that?