The Prophecy

by Karen MacLeod-Wilkie

  “And how do you know this?” Gerarda looked sternly at her son.

  “I listened in when you met with your source,” admitted Rebel, dipping his head toward his chest.

  “We met in a secure room! It was sealed and guards were posted outside.”

  “I might have created a small crawl space in a corner where the wall meets the ceiling.”

  Gerarda looked stunned. “How did you get up there?”

  Rebel looked distinctly uncomfortable by this point. “There are small vents that connect with the circulation shafts to bring fresh air to each cave. I crawled up the shaft until I reached the vent. Then, I dug out the vent, so it was large enough for me to crawl into. When you sealed the space, the vent closed at the point of connection with the shaft, but I had enough room on this side to be able to hear everything that was said.”

  “We’ll talk about this more later. It looks like I’m going to need to review our security.”

  The others had been quietly talking together while Gerarda dealt with her son.

  As they finished, Quillon spoke up. “We’d like to help. I know I’ve been more behind the scenes, doing computer work or travelling to make contacts, but knowing what we now know, we’d like to add our support to the rescue mission. Let’s act together.”

  Gerarda looked around the table at each of them. “Your support is gratefully accepted. If Brigid can do more of what she did earlier, we can significantly reduce the risk of casualties.”

  Brigid nodded her willingness to help.

  “Rebel, go and fetch Conrad,” said Gerarda before turning to address the others. “Conrad is our tactical team leader. He can give us an update and we can let him know to include you in the rescue team. Then, you’ll need to head out before it gets dark.”

  A few minutes later, Conrad arrived with Rebel trailing closely behind him. Conrad was closer to human than dwarf height at about five feet ten and dark-haired. He didn’t display any of the reddish coloring of other dwarfs they’d seen. He was introduced and they told him of Brigid’s ability. Intrigued, Conrad discussed with them strategies for the rescue.

  They gathered around the map. Conrad indicated a sheltered section of road north of Greenberg, which passed through a copse of woods. It was the best spot to initiate an ambush. First, they’d have to create a situation in which the convoy would come to a stop, so Brigid could put the drivers to sleep without creating an accident. They’d have to develop alternative strategies in case there were more guards than expected or if the numbers were more than Brigid could manage all at once.

  Conrad offered to be in contact once more details had been worked out. Quillon suggested he use the guise of being a pizza delivery man to an address Quillon would provide.

  Gerarda and Rebel blindfolded the team and led them along different pathways, releasing them through an exit just above the parking area. Quillon was surprised because he had never known of an entrance to the caves from that location. He had always met with Gerarda after making the hour-long hike. It seemed they had passed into a new level of trust.

  Silently, they returned to the jeep. The other trucks were gone, although broken bottles and a bag of garbage were scattered in the area where they had been parked. Everyone was relieved they wouldn’t have to deal with the men from earlier. Symba took out gloves and collected up the garbage, stuffing it into a receptacle at the end of the lot. Treena used a chunk of cardboard to sweep the broken glass together and scoop it into the trash as well. Feeling they had offered some good to the environment they had enjoyed, they climbed into the jeep and eagerly returned home to enjoy a stew which Symba had previously prepared and left in a crockpot.

  While the others were changing out of their hiking clothes, Brigid decided to turn on the stove, as Symba had shown her, to make cheese biscuits. Evander returned as she was shaping the biscuits. Since they were alone and Brigid’s hands were occupied, he decided to take advantage of the situation and began to nibble on her neck. His arms warmly smoothed up her sides and caressed her breasts. Brigid’s heartrate accelerated. She felt a surge of energy that wove between them whenever they were in contact.

  A voice broke through their intimate moment.

  “Getting hungry for more than supper, Evander?” Treena teased. “Enough appetizer for you! Let Brigid get those in the oven, so we can eat.”

  Evander grinned as Brigid blushed. He stepped back after a last kiss by her ear and a quietly uttered, “Later.”

  To Treena he said, “How about you give me a hand while Brigid goes up to get changed. I thought I’d make an apple and peach cobbler for dessert.”

  He playfully tugged on the blond braid Treena wore to keep her hair out of the way.

  “My hands are yours to command,” she quipped.

  Quillon entered the kitchen carrying a variety pack of locally crafted beer. Symba arrived and a debate ensued about which was the best brew. Treena suggested they have small samplers before choosing a full mug. Quillon brought down shot glasses that were perfect for sampling a couple of mouthfuls of each beer to test which suited each person’s taste.

  While the biscuits and cobbler were baking and the stew warming, they had fun exchanging opinions about the strengths of a stronger malt flavor versus hops, a beer with a citrus finish compared with a rich coffee finish, or a bitter versus smooth ale. In the end, Treena chose a brown porter that had a slightly nutty aroma. Brigid preferred the Bavarian dark lager which had very little hoppy bitterness. She loved the creamy malt with its smooth vanilla finish. Evander chose an amber ale that balanced the hops and malt flavors, and which boasted a rich red hue. Symba’s favorite was the blonde ale which was slightly sweet with a hint of fruit. Quillon’s choice was the oatmeal stout, a full-bodied dark brew with elements of coffee coming through it. The camaraderie of the shared meal helped offset the serious matters that they had dealt with during the day.

  As evening descended, Quillon suggested it might be helpful for Evander, Brigid, and Treena to receive lessons in computer use. The more they could learn about the Human Earth, the better they’d be able to manage whatever circumstances might arise. They groaned in agreement as they rose from the table. Most dishes were stacked in the dishwasher. Evander offered to wash up the extras because he had already had an initial lesson with Quillon the night before.

  Quillon worked with Brigid, while Symba assisted Treena. They explained the basic principles of how computers rely on electricity or a battery. They demonstrated how to boot one up and what the different symbols or icons on the screen represented. Evander arrived, and the next two hours were spent learning about the Internet, cell towers, and how to access information. Quillon described how he had certain security precautions set up on his computers, but that some computers might not be secure, especially in public places such as a library or coffee shop. It was a lot to absorb, but they were beginning to feel some level of comfort using the machines by the end of the evening. They agreed to continue their sessions as part of the next day’s schedule.

  The exhaustion of the day’s activities began to weigh upon Brigid. “I can see the circles growing under your eyes, people. It’s time for bed!”

  “You’re just eager for a bedtime snack,” Treena winked.

  Symba elbowed Treena. “Be nice. Brigid’s right. We need rest so we can train again in the morning.”

  Treena laughed, “Okay, let’s shut it down.”

  Everyone said their goodnights and sought their beds.

  Brigid tried to stifle a huge yawn as she walked into her room with Evander. He pulled her into his arms for a hug.

  “I think we both need to sleep tonight,” he said.

  Brigid smiled her assent as she cupped his face in her hands and reached up for a gentle kiss. Within minutes, they were washed up and snuggled in. A tender joy flowed through Brigid to be with someone who understood her needs and who respected his own. Sleep claimed them.

  ***

  The Rescue

  Quillon
had offered to prepare omelettes for breakfast. Evander was awake early and joined him to arrange a fruit tray and to slice bread for toast.

  “We’ve been here, on the Human Earth, for five days,” Evander stated. “I was instructed to report back to the Fairy Realm before the end of two weeks. With the portal guarded as it is, and with the guards likely on high alert after we got through, I don’t know how I’ll be able to do that.”

  Quillon looked up as he tossed eggshells into the compost bin.

  “Are you concerned your Queen will send more forces through?”

  “I don’t believe she will, as no one else matched the prophecy. Finn, the head of the Elite Guard, would likely advise her to allow things to unfold. Tristan, High Priest of the Realm, is known for counselling people to practice trust and patience. I just pray they hold to that and are generous with the time they allow us.”

  “Are you dependent on that portal or would you be able to open a new one?”

  Quillon added a few herbs as he whipped the eggs into a frothy blend with milk.

  Evander leaned against the counter with a reflective look on his face.

  At that moment, Treena strode into the room and beelined for the coffee maker. “I heard that. It’s a good question. What do you think Evander?”

  “I’m not sure,” replied Evander. “We were only taught access to the portal that Azran had established.”

  “Yesterday, you did more than that, by opening a geographic portal. Were all priests taught that skill?” asked Quillon as he poured the egg mixture onto a warm griddle.

  “No. That was something I was experimenting with on my own. I don’t know if it will be enough to use my visual memory of the Conclave or if I would need something more to anchor me to the other side. I could end up connecting to another realm entirely.”

  Brigid and Symba came through the doorway.

  Symba grabbed an apple slice from the tray. “Your faces look serious. Did we miss something?”

  The others enlightened them as they gathered around the table.

  Brigid filled coffee mugs as she spoke. “We have items from the Realm that could act as anchors: our amethysts, knives, my herbs, and the prophecy.”

  “What about the energetic resonance from working on something that powerful?” asked Symba as she reached for more fruit.

  “What do you mean?” Treena asked.

  “Didn’t you feel it?”

  Symba looked at the others, who seemed confused by her question. “Maybe it’s because I have enhanced senses. You really didn’t experience anything when Evander opened the portal yesterday?”

  The others shook their heads.

  “Well, yesterday, and each time Brigid used her gift, I felt the echo of their energy wash over me.”

  “If that’s the case, that could be another way fairies and shapeshifters are being tracked,” said Quillon. “I bet the military tech people have developed scanners and are using them to track those energy echoes.”

  Treena wanted to know more.

  “Do you feel the echo all the time or only when gifts are expressed?”

  “All races, all creatures, plants, stones… everything gives off energy. I can see it emanating around you. But when Brigid used her healing gift on Marla, I not only saw the energy, I felt a gentle wave of it echo back to me—like a sound echo, except with energy. Yesterday, because what Evander did was much more intense, the echo was stronger. The same happened with Brigid as she worked on the men.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?” Quillon turned intently toward Symba.

  “I thought everyone felt it, so I didn’t think it was significant.” Symba hunched her shoulders defensively.

  “It’s okay,” said Brigid. “Now we know, so we can be more aware of the choices we make in using our gifts.” She looked around the table. “I wonder if there’s a way of dampening the echo?”

  Quillon’s fingers were flying over a small pad beside him on the table. He looked up. “We can verify with Gerarda, but my computer search mentions black tourmaline. It’s a strong spiritual grounding stone able to absorb large amounts of energy.”

  “Of course!” Evander slapped his hand on the table. “The portal cave in our Realm is lined with black tourmaline. I wonder if our ancestors realized its significance? If we could obtain some here, we’d be able to contain our energetic echo and protect ourselves.”

  “I wonder if this is known by other fairies and shapeshifters?” said Treena.

  “This is important information. Well done Symba.” Quillon reached over to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We need to pass this on to our contacts. I can send an email to Gerarda immediately, to see if she has any access to tourmaline. Perhaps Conrad could bring us some tonight when he delivers the pizza and we finalize our rescue plans.”

  “Excellent!” said Treena. “But hold on. If the dwarfs don’t use electricity, how can they use their computers and link to the Internet as you taught us?”

  “Gerarda or one of her team goes to different locations that have electricity and an Internet connection: a friend’s home or business, or they sit in a car close to a business where they can link into their signals. There are ways to do it so you’re not traced—if you’re careful.”

  “There’s so much to learn,” said Brigid.

  “Where will we be meeting Conrad?” asked Evander.

  “I have an apartment two blocks from here. We use it as part of our disguise for Quin and Sheila. We’ll go there tonight for supper and our meeting.” Quillon’s gaze focused downward as he began to compose the email for Gerarda on his iPad.

  Symba stood up. “Okay troops, it’s time for more training.”

  The others groaned in response.

  “Relax. I have an idea. To give breakfast time to settle, Brigid why don’t you train us in basic first aid and how to use some of your herbs?”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” replied Brigid. “You should all know how to respond to emergencies in case anything ever happened to me.” Brigid’s mind started to race as she considered what she wanted to teach them and what was most crucial to pass on.

  Treena stood up. “Come on. I’ll give you a hand setting up your stuff.”

  Symba suggested they convene in Quillon’s office for Brigid’s session and then follow that with physical training.

  “Okay, Miss Organizer,” teased Quillon.

  Symba swatted him with her hand as she collected up the dishes. She nudged them to move along so she could clean up.

  The day passed swiftly and, before they knew it, they were converging in the apartment in time to meet with Conrad. Quillon and Symba were in their disguises. They all took light bags into the apartment as if they were planning to stay for a few nights. At the front entrance, an elderly woman was collecting her mail. A letter drifted from her grip and Quillon reached down to pick it up for her.

  “Thank you, dear.” The woman’s voice was husky. She slipped the letter into the pile in her hands. She glanced at him as she went to go past and stopped. “Is that you Quin? I haven’t seen you in a while. I see you have some friends with you.”

  “Hi, Mrs. McGinty. It’s good to see you. I was away on a business trip. Sheila and I are glad to be back. We’ve invited some friends to join us for pizza. I hope you’re keeping well.”

  Quillon opened the inner door to the apartment hallway and held it open for her.

  “You’re so kind. Other than a few little spells with my heart, Rosamund and I have been getting along quite well.” She patted his arm and looked up at him inquiringly. “Did those gentlemen ever find you?”

  “What gentlemen would those be?” said Quillon, offering Mrs. McGinty a fond smile.

  “Let me see, what day was it?” Mrs. McGinty paused, and the others waited patiently. “I know. It was last Wednesday. I brought Rosamund to the vet for her appointment, and they were here in the entrance when I returned. They claimed they knew you and wanted me to let them up to your
apartment.”

  She pulled her shoulders back and stretched to her full height of five feet. “Now, I may look somewhat feeble, but I have all my faculties. I told them that if you weren’t home, they’d have to come back another time. Rosamund hissed at them, and one fellow started sneezing.” A slightly wicked smile crossed Mrs. McGinty’s face. “They didn’t look too pleased with me; thankfully, the superintendent was in the hallway, so they didn’t press the issue. I wonder if they tried again. You can’t be too careful these days, you know.”

  “Thank you for letting us know, Mrs. McGinty,” said Symba. “I’ll see if they left any phone messages. You take care of yourself.” She placed a cautionary hand on the woman’s arm.

  “Don’t worry. I always have a little can of mace in my pocket.” Mrs. McGinty proudly drew it out to show to Symba. “Enjoy your pizza.” She moved away and walked briskly down the hall to her apartment.

  “What a feisty lady,” Brigid said. “I hope I’m like that when I get to be her age.”

  “Any idea who the men were?” Evander asked Quillon.

  “No, so be on guard, everyone.” Quillon was subtly reminding them to say nothing revealing until they checked the security of the apartment.

  They hiked up two floors to an apartment with an attractive wreath on the door. Quillon checked the lock as he used his key. There didn’t appear to be any sign of forced entry. Inside, he had installed a keypad for an alarm. He quickly entered his security code and moved to check the windows. He had placed thin strands of thread on the windows which would break if they were opened. All was fine.

  He went back to the door and opened a secret compartment that housed a camera, camouflaged by the wreath outside. He played it back and, sure enough, the men had made it as far as the hallway. Someone must have let them in. Before they could accomplish anything, the recording showed another neighbor showing up and escorting them out.

  “I don’t recognize them, do you?” Symba asked.

  “No. We have ten minutes before the pizza’s due. Would you like to take a look around?”