Treena threw an almond at her.
Brigid nimbly caught it and plopped it into her mouth. “Ummm good!”
“As good as your garden time?” said Symba, raising an eyebrow.
“Stop teasing us,” said Treena as she leaned back on her elbows and half closed her eyes. “You know you want to tell us.”
Brigid grinned at her friends. She told them that their words earlier had helped give her the courage to make a move. She flushed as she recalled her boldness, but they encouraged her.
“Listen to you go, girl. It’s about time,” Treena laughed.
“I’m happy you listened to your instincts,” said Symba. She looked at her empty glass and moaned. “Now we’d better listen to our instincts and get to bed! I’ll take this stuff to the kitchen. Thanks for sharing. See you in the morning.” She danced her way out of the room.
Treena and Brigid gathered up their clothing choices. After a warm hug, they went their separate ways. Brigid stumbled happily into her room. She dumped the clothes on a chair and quickly washed up. She tumbled into her comfy bed, wondering if Evander was going to join her. That was her last thought before sleep captured her.
***
A brisk rap on the door brought her to awareness. It was Treena’s signal that it was time to get up to help with breakfast. A heavy hand splayed across her stomach, and a delicious warmth exuded from her shoulders to her toes. Evander had indeed come to her bed at some point during the night. She must have been soundly asleep.
She tried to edge toward the side of the bed, but the hand clasped her firmly. She attempted to turn onto her back to see if she could ease out from that position, but the hand landed at the apex of her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat and her body immediately tightened. She had intended to let him sleep, but that hand felt so good. Her imagination kicked into gear. Then, she realized it wasn’t her imagination; fingers were teasing her labia and a hot tongue was exploring her ear. Her eyes flew open and she turned her head. Vivid blue eyes linked with hers before Evander’s head lowered to her breasts. They discovered the bed had a lot more give than the oak tree.
Brigid scrambled out of bed after one last lingering kiss. “I’ve got to get moving. I’m on breakfast detail.”
“I’ll be down shortly,” said Evander, who rolled over as Brigid dashed to the bathroom.
When she returned, dressed for the day, he was lightly snoring. She tiptoed to the door and let herself out with a smile.
The breath was knocked from her as she stumbled into Quillon who was striding by.
“Running behind?” he quipped as he grabbed her to keep her from falling.
“Just doing some early morning calisthenics,” she grinned. “You worked late last night?” she said, noting the tired lines around his eyes.
“Once we got started, it was difficult to stop,” Quillon admitted. “Cross-checking your list of contacts with my work felt like important information to have before meeting with Gerarda.”
“What did you find?”
“Much like we found with our initial searches. There wasn’t time to do comprehensive searches for every contact, so some of the disappearances may be people who’ve gone into hiding. Some changes may be a result of the map being out of date. Some individuals and businesses appear to be holding on, but indications are that the covert arm of the military has been extremely active over the last six weeks.”
Brigid was silent as they walked down the stairs. She could feel the anxiety in Quillon and in herself. Yet, there was also determination. She reached out to place a hand on his arm.
“We’ll need to be very careful out there, but we’re not going to let fear win. We need to press forward.”
Quillon turned to her and gave her a grateful hug. “I needed to hear that,” he said. “You and the others bring a new strength to what we’ve been doing. We need your support.” He gently slipped a strand of hair behind her ear and let his finger caress her cheek.
Brigid felt a small tug of attraction in response to the fondness she could sense Quillon was feeling. She could also read his integrity and knew she could trust he’d never overstep when she was involved with someone else.
“Speaking of strength, I’d better get down to help provide sustenance for us all,” said Brigid, hugging Quillon back before hurrying to the kitchen.
Symba was busily moving between the counter and stove. Treena was slicing bread. A tray of fruit was already prepared, and the scent of coffee was redolent on the air.
Treena looked up. “Trying to get out of breakfast duty?”
“Just got a little sidetracked.” Brigid accepted the apron Symba handed her. “What do you need me to do?”
“The sausages are cooking in the oven, but I haven’t gotten to the potatoes yet. Can you prepare them?” asked Symba.
Brigid nodded and grabbed the peeler from the shelf. She briskly peeled, chopped, and placed them in a pot of water. Within minutes they were boiling. While they cooked, she turned to setting the table. Then, she drained the potatoes and tossed them with oil and herbs. Next, she dumped them into a large skillet to brown them up.
Treena handed her a milky cup of coffee, just the way she liked it. “Relax, Brigid, it’s not a race.”
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m letting you both down or shirking my responsibilities,” said Brigid as she turned the potatoes.
“Adding moments of joy to the world around us is all of our duty,” Symba said. “It’s important. Don’t worry. We’ll let you know if you’re not pulling your weight.”
“Thanks,” Brigid sighed. “It was pretty wonderful.”
“Stop bragging,” said Treena, rolling her eyes. “We’ve created a monster!”
Symba opened the oven to check the sausages. “These look done. Treena, time to get the toast ready. I’m going to lightly grill some tomato slices with cheese. Can you gather up the guys, Brigid?”
Brigid went to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Breakfast is ready. Come and get it.”
Quillon sauntered out from his office.
Evander poked his head out of the bedroom door and said, “I’ll be right down.”
Breakfast was delicious and the chefs received many compliments. Quillon brought them up to date on the searches of the night before. Everyone helped clear the table and dishes as they planned the morning’s agenda. It was cool outside, so they agreed to have Brigid lead a meditation in the exercise room. Afterward, they paired up to practice hand-to-hand fighting. Symba and Brigid did strength training to build their upper body strength. Everyone did a short run and then followed Treena in a cooldown routine to ease their aching muscles which were not used to such exertion.
After brief showers, they returned to the kitchen where they picked through the sandwich supplies Quillon had arrayed on the table.
“You’ll need your knapsacks for jackets, extra socks, or other items. We may encounter damp or cooler weather up in the hills,” Quillon stated. “Symba and I will use our disguises when we meet Gerarda. She knows us as Quin and Sheila. We try to use names that have a similar sound to our own.”
“I recommend for now we use the profiles you developed for us at Cephas’ place, which are in our own names,” said Treena. “My sword brought me into this prophecy; it should travel with me. I feel we should also take the knives Finn gave us.”
“I’ll carry part of my healing kit,” said Brigid. “You’ll bring the scroll?” she asked Evander.
“I won’t risk leaving it behind.”
They dispersed to gather their things. By twelve-thirty p.m. they were pulling onto the road in a sturdy jeep from Quillon’s multi-vehicle garage. It was best suited to travelling the gravel road leading into the reserve.
Symba’s dark hair was covered by a blonde wig and contacts made her brown eyes blue. A mouth plate gave her the appearance of an overbite and moles appeared on the edge of one eyebrow and above her lip on the opposite side. A padded bra provided the illusion t
hat she was well endowed. All the fairies donned their ear prosthetics.
Quillon wore grease-stained jeans with a long-sleeved shirt to cover what appeared to be a significant beer belly. His hair was well hidden under a knit cap. Prosthetic makeup added weight to his face.
Symba took the opportunity to nap during the thirty-minute journey out of town. The others eagerly observed the landscape. They’d seen little of it when they’d arrived in the dark two nights previously. The highway, which they’d been told was the word for the road they were on, wound through gently rolling hills. Cattle grazed in fenced fields. Barns and collections of buildings could be observed down long driveways. They swept by occasional acres of forest containing unknown creatures. Birds flitted through the cloudy sky. It felt almost peaceful, Brigid thought, if you didn’t know the undercurrent of danger for those not of human origin.
Gradually, the road began to climb, and the hills became steeper. Quillon made a right turn onto a gravel road that led through an arch bearing a name which read White Mountain Nature Reserve. In the distance they could see a white-capped mountain. Quillon made a few more turns, following directions to a parking area for hikers. Two trucks were in the lot, but no other people were around. Tire marks led from the trucks to a pathway.
Quillon nudged Symba awake. He gestured to the tire marks and grunted, “Utility task vehicles—UTVs—out there somewhere. Keep alert.”
They piled out of the jeep and hitched their packs onto their backs. They didn’t bother with jackets because they knew they’d get warm during the hike. The breeze was gentle, so they didn’t need wind protection. Quillon led the way.
Treena stepped up beside him. “One of my gifts is discerning a safe pathway. I’ll stay close to you and keep tuned in as you lead us.”
Symba walked next to Brigid, who was enjoying observing the plant life along the path. She noted some plants were new to her; others were similar to what grew back home. The occasional warble of birds and the hum of insects were soothing to the spirit. It felt good to be in the fresh air with her friends, despite the seriousness of their journey.
Evander brought up the rear of the group. His ears were alert and his eyes watchful for signs of danger. A rabbit darting across his path jolted his nerves briefly, and he grinned at his overactive imagination. For fifty minutes, they trooped along without incident.
Suddenly, Treena grabbed Quillon’s arm and pulled him to a halt. “Something’s not right up ahead. It doesn’t feel safe.”
Brigid and Symba came up beside them and Evander joined the huddle. Treena quietly repeated her words. The path wound around the hillside ahead of them so they couldn’t see or hear anything amiss.
“What should we do?” said Symba as she peered anxiously around.
“I could try to open a window,” Evander said.
“A what?” asked Treena.
“It’s an ability I was working on at the Conclave; rather than opening to another dimension, I was working on opening a window to a geographical space within the same dimension,” said Evander.
“Were you successful?” asked Quillon.
“The more precise the location, the better I was able to access a window to view it.”
“By location, do you mean physical description or longitude and latitude?” asked Quillon.
“It’s a bit like using a telescope. Treena, if you can sense how far ahead the danger lies and, Quillon, if you can describe what’s on the path ahead, I’ll know where to focus my view,” explained Evander.
Treena relaxed into a meditative state. A minute passed.
“The danger seems to be about half a mile ahead of us,” she said.
Quillon opened his trail map and pointed. “That’d be about here,” he said. “It’s a picnic area below the last leg up to the caves. A couple of trails intersect there.”
Evander chose a comfortable stance. “We’ll need to maintain silence. If I’m successful in opening this window, we’ll be able to see and hear what’s happening up there. However, the window works both ways, and sound from us can travel through. I’ll keep it small enough that whoever is ahead doesn’t see us.”
His breath deepened and energy began to coalesce between his hands. Gradually, he pulled his hands apart and a window about eight inches by twenty appeared between them. Carefully peering through, they could see a picnic table and two parked vehicles. Sounds began to drift through. Evander shifted the window to follow the sounds.
Suddenly, they could see a group of four men circling around a red-haired woman. They were taunting her.
“What do we have here boys?”
One of the men took a drink from a dark bottle.
“A bit of entertainment for the afternoon?” he laughed meanly.
“Perhaps, we’ve got ourselves an investment,” said another as he grabbed the woman by the hair and peered into her eyes. “I hear the military will pay big bucks to anyone who brings in a dwarf. Are you a dwarf, little lady?” he guffawed.
The woman remained silent, refusing to play their game.
Suddenly, a stone flew through the air, catching one of the men on the side of the head. He looked up angrily.
“Leave my mother alone!” a young voice yelled out.
Evander clapped his hands together, snapping the window shut.
“We’ve got to get moving! Brigid, can you use your mind-soothing technique to put them to sleep?”
“Once we’re closer. Let’s go before those men get vicious.”
The group began a brisk trot up the path, moving quietly but urgently. Brigid kept reaching out. Five minutes later, they heard shouting and cursing and the distinct sound of a gunshot. Brigid sent wave after wave of energy to the angry and violent minds she had linked into. Finally, there was quiet.
***
The Meeting
Treena led them into the clearing, assuring them it was safe. The four men had collapsed on the ground. A rifle lay next to one man. The woman was bound and gagged on the ground. A rustle sounded in the trees above them, but no one emerged. Quillon immediately went for the rifle, careful to pull his sleeve down to handle it so none of his fingerprints would transfer to it.
“Gerarda, you’re safe. These are the friends I mentioned in my email,” he said as Treena stepped over to release her from the gag and ties.
He introduced each by name and Gerarda jerked her chin in acknowledgement.
She spat on the ground when the gag was pulled off. Brigid offered her a drink of water. Rubbing her freed hands, the woman accepted the water and expressed her thanks.
Then, she looked up into the trees.
“Rebel, get down here now,” she yelled. “I mean it. Right now, or you’re grounded for two weeks more than the two you’re already going to get!”
A slight form clambered down the beech tree in front of them.
“Chill out, I’m here.”
“But you’re not supposed to be here, are you?” snapped Gerarda. “You followed me, when I told you to stay back in the cave.” She stood with her hands on her hips, her face furious. “You were in serious danger.”
“Naw, I wasn’t,” said Rebel. “Those guys were so drunk, they couldn’t even hit the trunk of the tree, let alone me. I came as extra protection.”
“One stray bullet. That’s all it’d take,” Gerarda spat.
She turned to Quillon. “Quin, it’s good to see you. I don’t know what you did, but thanks for the rescue. Things were getting a little uncomfortable here.”
She gestured toward the boy. “This is my son, Rebel.”
Quillon extended a hand to Rebel, who looked and sounded as if he was around eleven years old. “Good to meet you, Rebel.”
“Are you here to put my mom in more danger?” asked Rebel.
“Rebel!” Gerarda placed her hand on his shoulder.
“No, I’m not,” said Quillon, kneeling to look the boy in the eye. “I’m here to ask her help to keep you, your friends, and hundreds of other people
out of danger.”
“How’re you going to do that?”
Evander stepped forward. “I suggest we get to the safety of the caves to continue our conversation.”
“If those men go to the military with what they know, Gerarda could be hunted and the caves in this region would no longer be safe,” said Symba.
Brigid cleared her throat and said, “I have a suggestion.” She clasped her hands tightly in front of her as she shared her idea. “I’m not sure about the ethics of what I’m proposing, and this isn’t something I normally do, but I have an herb that helps to erase memories.”
Brigid looked anxiously at the others as she continued. “I’ve only used it when someone has had significant trauma in their life and couldn’t heal past it. In those rare cases, I administered the drug, then traveled back with them to soothe and shift the memory that was affecting them.”
“Would they have to be awake for this?” Treena asked.
“No. I can place a drop of the liquid herb under their tongue and it’ll enter their systems immediately. Because the memory is so close to the present, I’ll be able to access it easily.”
“Rather than erasing it completely, could you alter the details of what they’re remembering?” Quillon asked.
“I could. Why?”
“If they all suffer a gap in their memories, it’ll be suspicious. But if they all have hazy mixed-up memories of a similar encounter, they’ll each think they’re right, and that the others were too drunk to remember correctly.”
“That’s brilliant Quin!” said Treena. She tapped her chin as she paced, her mind racing with ideas. “Is there another picnic area like this, not too far away? The rifle’s obviously been used. Can we set it up as if they had a target practice with their beer bottles? From an ethical standpoint, Brigid, you’ll be sticking pretty close to what they experienced but ensuring protection for these people.”
Gerarda offered directions to an alternate location that would work. They lugged the bodies to the UTVs and loaded them in. Fortunately, they were four-seater vehicles, so there was room for everyone to squish in. Quillon and Gerarda drove. Brigid dug out her supplies and began to plan how to make each man’s memories slightly different. One would recall a tall, dark-skinned woman. Another would remember a plump blonde. A third would have hazy memories of talking with a man. The fourth would be able to bring to mind shooting at the bottles.
The Prophecy Page 14
