(First Prologue. )

Two hundred years ago...

The chief priest sat in the canoe as the boy rowed to the sacred island. The Calusa had constructed the island themselves, amidst the many natural islands that trailed off the home peninsula. Like their homes and their tools, the island was built from the shell's that the water gave them. The water also gave them food and transportation. Now the sacred island was one of the few refuges left. Once, it had been a place where warriors gathered and where their efforts were planned and blessed by the Three Gods.

There were times that the chief priest wondered if the Three Gods had forsaken them. He did not hold such blasphemy for long. But as he watched the leader, his only son, wither away, covered in the pockmarks that the outsiders had brought to them, it was hard not to at least consider that the Three Gods had forsaken them, that the Calusa were no longer worthy of the gods gifts. His son would be dead soon. Even if the outsider's disease's did not take him, as they had the war chief, then the Creek or the Yamasee would. Once, such lesser tribes feared the mighty Calusa. Then the outsiders came. They too, feared the Calusa, who rejected their trinkets and their single god. But the Creek and the Yamasee were weak, so they accepted the outsiders gifts- including their weapons.

The Calusa were once feared in part because of their weapons made with the shell's provided by the water, but the metal shells of the outsider's were mightier than the shell's of the sea. Between the raids and the sickness, the Calusa were ravaged. They could no longer protect their friends, such as the Seminoles and the Tequesta, and they could no longer defeat their enemies. The chief priest knew that soon they would all be dead. Perhaps within two seasons. So he needed to prepare, as he and the other priests had decided.

We are here, the boy said. The chief priest looked up, having fallen into a reverie and not realized that they had arrived.

Come, the chief priest said, slowly rising to his feet on old bones that creaked and cracked. The boy helped the chief priest steady himself as they disembarked, then he retrieved the large gourds containing the items that the chief priest had requested he bring with him. When they were on the hard land of the sacred island, the boy said, Tell me what I must do.

The shadow soul and the reflection soul are of no use to us, the chief priest said. They are given to the animals of the land and sea to live new lives. But the eye soul remains, and it is that what we must harness. The chief priest put a hand on the boy's chest. We give our lives today so that one day the Calusa may have their revenge.

Standing proud, the boy said, I would rather die in the service of the Calusa than wither away from the outsider's sickness.

With a smile, the chief priest added, Or be bloodied by the outsider's weapons? Before the boy could protest, the chief priest reassured him. It does not matter. Your courage is already well- known to us all. It is why the Three Gods chose you. And it is why, when our people are gone, you and I shall remain behind to bind the eye souls of our people together.

Nodding, the boy said, I am ready.

First, the boy took out the masks. Calusa masks covered the entire face with painted wood, with holes only for the eyes, to keep that soul unfettered.

For the priest, the mask was blue, white, and red, with an open mouth rendered to symbolize his conversations with the Three Gods. As for the boy, his mask was red, black, and white, and portrayed the fierceness of a warrior born. The chief priest removed the three daggers from the gourd, handing one to the boy and holding the other two in his hands. Then he began the dance and the chant to the gods. The boy followed along, mirroring the chief priest's movements. After they had completed the three circles, the chief priest sliced open his left wrist with the dagger in his right hand, then reached out and did the same to the boy's left hand. At a nod from the priest, he and the boy then lunged for each other.

The dagger in the priest's right hand plunged into the boy's chest even as the boy's dagger plunged into the priest's. The chief priest felt the life blood drain from him, and he knew that the Three Gods had not forsaken him, for if they had, they would not have provided him with the means of avenging the Calusa upon the world.

When the time was right...