RainRiders by Austina Love

Chapter One
    “Hey, Draven, you should take a look at this.”
    Pike turned his head sharply. “Just get back to work. We’re not out here to piss around. If we don’t get the last of these seeds in before the next rain we may not have a crop to sell. Carter’s incompetence already set us back.” He studied the men in his crew for a second. They had all gathered in a tight circle and were openly fascinated by something.
    “I’m serious, man, this thing is cool. Looks like it’s been here a long time.”
    At that, Pike’s interest piqued. Dollar signs flashed before his eyes. Casually he strolled over to the group, not wanting to look overly interested in their find. So far the cultivating had gone slow. Clearing plots of ground in the thicket was much more difficult than plowing an open field. But they couldn’t plant their crops in plain view. No…cash crops of this nature needed a bit of camouflage.
    “What do ya have?” He nudged his way into the circle. “A stick? You stopped working to play with a damn stick? I swear all you lazy asses have done is piss around looking for useless Indian relics.”
    “No…listen…” Aiden, one of the workers, held the long stick up then slowly flipped it end over end. “Sounds like water. We found it while digging over there.” He pointed to a patch of mossy soil in the thicket. “It was buried under layers of rocks and practically molded to the ground. I can’t believe what awesome condition this piece is in.”
    Pike moved in for a closer look. The stick was about four feet long and resembled a tall thin cactus thick enough to wrap one hand around. Upon closer inspection he noticed many tiny holes where the cactus spines had been. Both ends were sealed with a carved handle on one end while the other end was blunt as if used for walking.
    “What the hell is it?” he asked, captivated by the sound it made when turned upside down and back again.
    “A rain stick,” Aiden replied. “Native Americans use them in dances to summon rain. But I’ve never seen one crafted like this. It looks ancient. Rain sticks made today are more polished and decorative. This one is extremely primitive, yet skillfully made.”
    “Really…let me see that thing.” Pike said with skepticism, taking the peculiar branch into his own hands. “I don’t buy into those Indian legends, nothing but tales of old men.” He scoffed while giving the stick a good going over. It definitely felt and looked like cactus tree and in spite of its age was still solid and carried a slight sheen. “Wonder what they used to preserve it and how they got it to sound like water’s inside.”
    “I have no idea what could’ve preserved it this long. But the way they create the unique sound is by pushing the cactus needles though the branch.” Aiden used one finger to direct his attention to the numerous pinholes. “The branches are hollow so before sealing them the craftsman would place pebbles inside, then seal it back up with a handle on top and a solid piece on the bottom. The cactus needles and pebbles rolling from end to end emulate the sound of rain. Typically, something like this wouldn’t have survived buried in soil all these years. It must carry powerful medicine to remain perfectly preserved for so long.”
    Pike shot Aiden a curious look. “How do you know so much?”
    “I’ve lived in the Black Hills all my life. Been to a lot of Native American gatherings. Have a lot of Indian friends. You didn’t tell us this land had been owned by them.”
    “Eh, just some Indian chick and her family. Not like a whole tribe lived here.”
    Aiden raised questioning brows. “You don’t find handmade instruments used in ceremony just anywhere. Pieces like this are usually crafted by a medicine man or tribal elder, then buried with them when they leave this world to join their ancestors.”
    “What are you saying? That we’ve stumbled upon a priceless artifact?”
    With a shake of his head,