Cooper poured the chunky stew into their bowls and screwed the lid back onto the thermos to keep it warm. “I’m as new at this as you are. Newer, even. You’re the one teaching me, remember?”
Ash settled onto a pillow and ate half the bowl before he saw it fit to respond. “I had been teaching you. Notice the past tense. From what I see, you’re doing quite well on your own. I’m the one who’s freaking out right now.”
Cooper set his spoon down, and gave him a careful once-over. “Really?” he said. “Why’s that? We both survived, right? We couldn’t have helped uncle Greg, but we’ll figure out where he is eventually. Uncle Owen is sure he isn’t fully dead.”
“Despite the body,” Ash said.
“Despite the body.”
Ash remained still, immersed in his own silent panic attack. Cooper set his food back on the tray and edged close enough for their arms to touch. “Hey. I’m here for you.”
The look Ash gave him was one of a wild animal. “Is there any chance we can skip that shindig tonight?”
Cooper frowned. “Maybe? Why?”
“I spoke with this man, Dave. He was explaining about the lodge and the fire pit and all. And from what he was saying, he was getting the place ready for one big orgy.”
Cooper nodded. “That’s not surprising.”
“But they’re your family, Cooper!” Ash had a wild look in his eyes now. “Isn’t that, uh, weird for you?”
Once again, Cooper nodded. “You bet. But it’s not, like, incest or anything. This is mostly how some of the relatives became family. They married in. They might have even met during a power-raising, and got swept up in it, and found that they clicked.” He paused, choosing his words with care. “We’ll be exposed to all that. There isn’t a place to hide within miles of here where we won’t hear the drums, and won’t be affected by the desire to contribute. I talked this over with Feather. He swears nobody’s looking at other people, and it’s supposed to be dark and steamy, with just the coals glowing. It’s just focus, you know? Focus on your partner, and on giving up power to benefit the group.”
Ash shook his head. “No.”
After a moment, Cooper leaned in and placed a kiss on his neck. “Okay. No is no. I can’t possibly blame you. But... remember the Battle of the Node? We did sort of... you know. Raised power. With other people around.”
A fierce blush rose up Ash’s neck at the memory. “We did, and it worked. I just got swept up in the moment and it was the right thing to do. The node would’ve destroyed a good chunk of Pittsburgh otherwise.” He bit his lip, thinking hard.
Cooper realized that they had never discussed that part. Maybe they should have. “Do you think we’ve been avoiding talking about it?” he blurted out.
Ash nodded. “Maybe. And then we all had a massive back-lash headache, and there was so much going on, that part seemed trivial in retrospect.”
Except it wasn’t, not to Ash. And not to Cooper either, now that he got to think about it. Maybe he had been too eager to jump into his family’s lifestyle, merely because he was now allowed to participate. “Remember that time my family came to visit for Summer Solstice? I kind of accepted that that’s what they do. I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to railroad you into something you didn’t want to be part of. I just though that the whole power-raising was sort of obvious.”
“There wasn’t one big tent. They camped in a bunch of little tents, and we got to use our bedroom.” Ash’s voice came out as a whine, and to Cooper’s amusement, his lower lip stuck out in a pout. Having his partner in a state over the reality of group sex magic was endearing especially because Ash was a “naturist.” He used to water-walk naked in the middle of Pittsburgh, wearing only his old sneakers to protect his feet from stray fishing hooks on the shore, until Cooper came along and brow-beat him into covering up.
Cooper merely didn’t want Ash to get arrested.
And now Ash was shy in a way Cooper didn’t think would ever go away.
“Okay. Multiple tents. That’s a good point. However, technically the big tent is a sweat lodge, and stuff happens in sweat lodges.” Cooper couldn’t resist to stray off topic.
“Stuff?” Ash raised his eyebrows.
“Yep. For instance, the Inuit traditional story of Sun and Moon is a story of a brother and sister who lived alone in their own igloo despite the wishes of the rest of the village. When they got older, the brother tried to rape her in the sweat lodge. According to the story, she ran out, he chased her.” The dark tale became even darker in the light of their modern sensitivities. “And she ran so fast, she ran off the edge of the Earth and into the sky, and became the Sun. Her brother ran after her and became the Moon. And he’s forever trying to catch up to her. Which is why a solar eclipse is a bad omen.”
Ash gave a deep sigh, and straightened up. “If you meant to reassure me, you suck at it.”
“It’s a dark tale, and it’s a teaching tale about what can happen in small, isolated communities. Human history is littered with unacceptable behavior. And we’re not recreating anything like that. We’re just... we’re doing our thing, just you and me, and we’ll adapt that thing in any way that makes you comfortable. Which includes getting in the car right now and driving back to Pittsburgh.”
Silence followed. “Really?” Ash said after what seemed like forever. “You and I need to learn stuff from these rituals. Your father said they’re necessary to balance our energies out. It’s just, ugh. So public.”
“Your call, beloved.” Cooper pressed his lips together, resolved to wait it out and have Ash make the decision.
“What do you care about in all this?” Ash finally asked. “There has got to be a compromise.”
That was easy. Cooper knew exactly what he wanted. “I want to see it, or at least the beginning of it, before people pair off. I’ve always been excluded as a kid. Homeschooled, but no friends, really. Nobody except for Jared, at least until he got to go to these things. Now I finally get to find out where everyone would go several times a year. But that doesn’t mean I have to take part in a wild orgy. There’s supposed to be drumming and chanting first, and a good bit of meditation.” He thought some more. “How about we sit by the door? We can just hang out and try it, and when things get uncomfortable, we’ll leave.”
A small smile bloomed on Ash’s face, replacing the nervous tension he had struggled with ever since this situation became clear. “We can stay.”
“You’re okay with that?” Cooper pressed, making sure. “We can pack up and leave. Hell, I’ve been apart from my clan for so long, not much will change if we decide to head out.” He pulled Ash into a close hug. “I have you. That’s all I care about.”
The way Ash melted against him spoke volumes. “Thank you.”
“No thanks are needed,” Cooper said with a smile. “We should have candles and stuff ready to cast our own circle, though. We want to be sure we won’t cause any damage if we do decide to retreat here and have some fun of our own. If that’s okay with you.”
Ash lifted his face and presented his lips in a silent request.
Cooper obliged.
Once their kiss cooled off and they gently detached, Ash said in all seriousness, “Having privacy and making love is better than merely okay. It’s inspired and fabulous, just like you are.”
FOR THE NEXT hour, Ash helped Cooper ready their gher so they had both comfort and space.
“Four candles will let us call on the four elements,” Cooper suggested. “And with the two of us, I can call Fire and Earth, and you can call Water and Wind.”
“Five,” Ash said with conviction with which surprised even himself. “No matter what happens tonight, we’ll need the Spirit, and we can light that candle together.”
Pulling the wooden beds away from the walls to make space for the circle drawn with salt water had Ash break enough sweat, he was soon stripping his sweater and his first layer of pants. He glanced at Cooper, who just passed him a water bottle.
“W
e can’t move the fire bowl because of the chimney hole,” Cooper said, surveying the floor areas available between the beds and the fire. “I suggest we just make a nest on the floor. That way we’ll be comfortable till morning and we won’t break out of the circle by accident.”
“What about our gher mates?” Ash had seen the two women only once.
“They’ll be in the big tent, or with their boyfriends,” Cooper said. Wasn’t there a tradition of hanging a sock on the door knob to indicate a need for privacy? “How much do you care if they walk in on us?”
“A lot less than if we’re in the big lodge,” Ash admitted. “I don’t think they’d be horribly scarred for life, and... well, I’m more worried about them breaking our circle than anything else. I... uh...” he struggled for words as Cooper stopped what he was doing and gave him his full attention. “Do you ever have a strong feeling about something?”
Cooper nodded.
“It’s kind of weird and flaky of me, but I have a strong feeling about keeping a good circle up tonight. Maybe I’m still freaked out by what happened in the lake, or...”
“Or you’re having a premonition,” Cooper said softly. “Either way, it doesn’t hurt to work with an abundance of caution. I’m careful when I design a house. This is similar. You plan for the unexpected, and this trip has been, well.” Cooper gave an embarrassed smile.
“Traumatic?” Ash gave a weak laugh. “Honey, you technically died.”
“I’ve always been afraid of water because on some level I have always known that I would. Die in it, I mean.” Cooper brightened. “But now that it had happened, maybe that milestone is over, right? Maybe I can check drowning and dying off my bucket list and move on with my life!”
“Maybe.” Ash stripped their blankets and fluffed them up on a clear patch of the floor. He was conscious of their new bed not being in the exact center of an imaginary pentagram, but according to Hank, who knew these things, they didn’t really need a pentagram. They needed just good salt water infused with the light of the last full moon (check,) a spirit blade (Cooper’s sword would do,) and a securely marked-out circular area. The circular gher footprint was ideal for that.
Cooper surveyed their work. “I’ll build up a fire and heat up some stones now, so we don’t go from a steamy sweat lodge into a cold tent, okay?”
“Good idea.” Ash gave their area a good once-over. “This will work well, I think. And I have a strong feeling that it’s essential that we stay and see what happens.”
CHAPTER 12
JARED
The landscape outside the Japanese guest house didn’t change back to Cooper’s arid climate, nor to the disturbing watery realm they had seen before. The spirit that was favorably inclined toward Cooper was still with him as evidenced by their environment.
“I don’t know what to think of all this,” Ameru-san said over her cup of tea. She was wearing a turquoise kimono embroidered with peacocks today, but to the displeasure of the other Wielders, her feet remained bare. She ignored the cold stares of two older men, and focused on Jared and Greg. “I have been inside here for a considerable amount of time, and never had I seen this much activity. And neither had the others.”
“How do you know?” Greg asked. He sipped his tea with the firm resolve of a sweets lover in a house devoid of sugar.
“We discussed it last night,” she said. “They don’t speak English. Well, one of them is making an effort to learn.”
“But wait,” Greg said and straightened up. “Sorry, but you don’t need to speak any language at all. If you speak mind to mind, the language barrier disappears. We do that underwater. In fact,” he said with a sly smile, “my late wife and I had spent a lot of time water-walking together, just so we could talk. She’s French, and English wasn’t widely taught when her family moved to Canada. Plus in Quebec, the pressure to learn quickly lessened somewhat. And my French has always been just very basic.”
Jared was amused to see Ameru-san think so hard about so many new things. Elements, water-walking, wind-whispering, spirits... she had always been a rational woman, as she liked to remind them. Very scientific, very fact-based. Nothing less was required of a pilot. And when she taught aeronautics at Brandeis University, she had required nothing less of her students.
Now, the perfect poise she put on in Greg’s presence began to wilt a little under the onslaught of the irrational, the unfamiliar, the esoteric.
“So if what you say is true,” she said, “when we had been merged into one spirit, I needn’t have bothered to speak Japanese at all! I could’ve spoken English, and they still would’ve understood me.”
The sound of a shakahachi flute drifted toward them from the outside.
“You look vexed,” Greg said, grinning. “They put you through your paces, forcing you to speak a language you had learned as an adult – am I right? Yes? And now, after all these decades, you finally realized it was all for nothing.”
Were they flirting? Uncle Greg’s wife had passed on a few years back. He remembered her only vaguely, blonde hair and an accent, and a superior attitude toward the making of a proper egg omelete. He averted his eyes, giving them privacy.
The notes of the flute, hollow and smoky, drifted across the creek. Jared had to squint into the sun before he discerned a figure of a man sitting on a rock, almost hidden by the curtain of cherry branches heavy with blossoms.
The notes lilted, clumsily, and the musician switched to a lower register and a long, smooth combination of melancholy half-tones.
Intrigued, Jared wondered if it would be rude to go and see. Uncle Greg and Ameru-san were embroiled in a political discussion of some kind, which was strange, considering their lifespans didn’t overlap at all. “Excuse me,” Jared said, and stood. He dismissed his cup with a gesture, making it disappear.
Slowly, casually, as though his destination was just an afterthought, Jared made his way off the wooden porch.
Between the daffodils, down the flagstone path.
From stone to stone, stepping over the generously swollen creek.
Then backtracking, as though he was just admiring the flowers, he approached the cherry tree from the other side.
The man’s back was turned to him. His black hair was in a samurai topknot, and his slender shoulders suggested he was one of the younger Wielders in the group. Something about the bend of his neck made him look vulnerable, sitting here with his back turned to the countryside, focused on making the first music Jared had heard in months.
Slowly, gently, he stepped from stone to stone until he reached the big boulder where the man sat with his legs neatly criss-crossed under him. Equally slowly, Ash lowered himself into a similar pose.
The music stopped.
Their eyes met, and with a sudden certainty Jared knew they had met before.
“Hi, I am Jared.”
“I know,” the musician said seriously. “My name is Shimazu Shichiro,” he said in a low, deliberate voice.”
Jared tried to repeat the unfamiliar name, and mangled it. “I’m sorry,” he said as embarrassment ripped through him.
“My friends used to call me Shika,” he said with a small smile. “It means Deer.”
“Deer. Dear. Shika. I like it.” There was something about Shika that called to Jared, something tragic and in dire need of fixing. “Are you the one who’s learning to speak English?”
Shika shook his head. “I can speak several languages, but of those, people here only understand Japanese. Mind-to-mind is easier.”
“It is.” Jared looked down at Shika’s flute with appreciation. He was about to pay him a compliment when the sun faded from the sky. The kitchen and bath building to their left was but a shadow now, and only the shoji screens reflected what light was left in the spirit world.
Jared felt a jostle within his soul. “Cooper’s up to something,” he said as he turned his full attention to the link between them. “He’ll need our help tonight. I can feel it.”
ASH AND C
OOPER
Ash settled on his meditation pillow, which in turn rested on a fur cover, which was set on a carpet, and the carpet had the same soft squish underfoot as the carpet inside their gher. It was hard to believe, but the hastily erected lodge tent was fully insulated from the cold, packed snow by several inches of straw under it all.
The interior was dark as promised, and so warm he ended up stripping his numerous layers. Both his and Cooper’s clothes were carefully folded on top of their boots right by the door, within reach. The double door flap was laced shut now, and a blanket hung in the way to keep out the draft.
A channel of fiery embers and hot stones ran down the center of the long tent, lighting the way through the darkness. Ash peeked, curious to see if other participants of the ritual were visible.
Outlines of folded legs, of hands resting on knees, of bare chests were clearly discernible in the dim glow of the embers. If he could see them, then they could see him, he knew, and was doubly glad that he and Cooper have worked out a Plan B.
A single drum started with a deep-pitched beat, and was soon joined by another, and yet another. The drummers fell into what sounded like a well-worn and familiar pattern, and Ash found that the darkness, the warmth, and the rhythm helped him breathe more openly.
With breath came a loosening of his mind. He could finally relax, sinking into his center with his back straight and his eyes downcast toward the hypnotic, primal draw of the fire.
This wasn’t so bad. This was, in fact, very good.
Soon, several people doused the hot rocks with small cups of water. The dark interior filled with fog and wood smoke, lending the night yet another layer of mystery. And this fog was warm, and pleasant, and Ash was tempted to let go some more and let his guard down.
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