by C. T. Phipps
“I want you to do it now.”
I closed my eyes. “You’re killing me, Yolanda.”
“No, which is part of the reason why we’re here now,” Yolanda said, looking up at me. “It’s taken a long time for me to look at shapechangers and see the person rather than the animal. I’m sorry for that, but I need to face my son and tell him what I wasn’t able to in life.”
“Your son was a shapechanger,” I reminded her, though it’s not like she could have forgotten. “That may influence how he reacts.”
“I don’t care. What would you do to talk with the person you most loved but can never talk to again?”
I could only think of my parents, whom I had just talked to. “So if you’ll do this, you’ll help with the Dryad?”
“I would anyway but I need you to do this for me so I’m going to lie and say I won’t if you don’t help,” Yolanda said, blinking. “Okay, why did I say that aloud?”
I made the horns with my hands. “The power of weredeer charisma. We’re disarmingly cuddly.”
“You sound a lot like Alex,” Yolanda said, frowning. “Which means you make a lot of references I don’t get and are perpetually sarcastic. Except I don’t think he’s ever sarcastic, he’s just weird.”
“Weird is better than normal,” I said, smiling. “It’s just another way of saying exceptional.”
“I could do with a whole lot less exceptional in my life,” Yolanda said, looking over at the windows. “Do you need to get anything before the séance?”
“Please don’t call it a séance,” I said, taking a deep breath. I walked over to my staff, picked it up, plopped myself in the bed near the pillows and placed my staff over my legs before moving them into a lotus position. “I don’t even know if this is going to work, but I have everything I need.”
Yolanda took a deep breath. “Is there a Heaven?”
“I’m equipped to talk to your son for you, not to answer those kinds of questions,” I said, pausing. “But yes. Hell too. Also, Valhalla. Happy Hunting Grounds. Elysium. Arcadia. There’s also places that defy description. Abysses, places of eternal torment, places where there’s just an endless series of doors that open up back to themselves. Places that do not allow you to leave but have the two most annoying people in the world trapped with you who hate you every bit as much as you hate them.”
“That’s not very comforting,” Yolanda said.
“It’s not meant to be,” I said, taking a deep breath. “My mother used to say any miracle that doesn’t leave you quivering on the ground questioning your sanity is insufficiently miraculous.”
“My dad was a Baptist preacher, he said life was a miracle,” Yolanda said.
“Then he knew what I was talking about,” I said, thinking about all the times life had reduced me to a fetal ball. If I had a nickel for every time, I’d have a whole twenty cents. Shaking my head, I muttered, “I really need to start studying how to be a priestess as well as a magician if I want to be the shaman of the clans.”
“So I guess religion is wrong then,” Yolanda said.
“It depends on what questions you’re asking. It’s like Yoda’s cave. The only thing you’ll find is what you take with you.” Which wasn’t true but, again, I didn’t want to blast her mind like I had Robyn. I didn’t want to leave the bathroom a mess for some poor cleaning lady to clean up. What was with everyone wanting to turn to me for all the answers? Oh yeah, I was the one claiming to be the shaman.
Raguel, some help here? I asked. You know this stuff.
I can’t advise mortals on religion, Raguel said. For the exact reason you’re now experiencing.
Yeah, well, remind me to follow Michael’s advice next time, I said.
I will.
“Is everything a Star Wars quote to you?” Yolanda asked, clearly not happy with what I was saying.
“Would you prefer I communicate in nineties fighting-games lingo?” I asked. “I know those too. Dad used to have a half-dozen in the Deerlightful and he regularly upgraded them despite the fact he could only—”
Yolanda raised her left palm. “Stick with Star Wars.”
“Thank you,” I said, sighing. “Now give me your cell phone.”
Yolanda blinked. “Why do you need my cell phone?”
“Because this is going to ruin a cell phone and I don’t want to use mine,” I said, holding out my hand.
“Oh,” Yolanda said, pulling an incredibly cheap-looking piece of plastic from her jacket.
I took Yolanda’s phone and looked at it sideways. “I take being a hunter doesn’t pay very well.”
“It doesn’t but it’s a burner,” Yolanda said, frowning. “Hunting is illegal after all.”
“What with it being murder, yes,” I said.
Yolanda stared at me. “The third monster I killed was something I don’t have a name for. It stored the bodies of people it picked off the street in its apartment basement no one ever entered until I did. They were all grown together on a fungus and it fed off the things that grew inside them. I pulled the fire alarm and burned the entire place to the ground to make sure it stayed dead and didn’t spread further. They found a hundred bodies inside, some having been alive since 1913. What do you call that?”
I stared at her. “The universe being a scary nasty place. There was probably a man behind it, though.”
“You think that thing was a man?” Yolanda asked.
“I think there’s no atrocity that can be done which man hasn’t done,” I said, looking at her. “I think if you give a normal person claws, magic, glowing eyes, or just a tail then he’s going to immediately try and figure out how that justifies him killing everyone without them. I believe, generally, people suck and the supernatural is just another kind of power. That makes them suck more.”
“That thing wasn’t human,” Yolanda said, shaking her head. “Not even close.”
“Maybe it was a thinking animal,” I said, shrugging. “Which humans are. I believe the good outnumbers the evil in this world despite whoever designed everything intending to be brutal, painful, and harsh. The Earthmother is my goddess and nature is cruel as well as beautiful. It’s why I’m not looking forward to facing her.”
Yolanda turned around and sat cross-legged across from me. “I never got to tell my son a lot of things. I can’t help but think when he was taken that he was brainwashed by the people who did it. By his father. But the thing is, he didn’t die in Bright Falls. He escaped from his captors and lived his life elsewhere. I always have wondered. deep in my heart, if he tried to find me again. If he didn’t find me or if he found out—”
“You were now killing supernaturals?” I asked.
“Yes.” Yolanda frowned. “Alex managed to clear up our past with the authorities but we’re still on a couple of terrorist watch lists. I blame the vampires.”
“You are really making me wonder if I should be helping you,” I said, shaking my head.
“Larry is the charming one,” Yolanda said. There was a brief flash of pain on her face and I realized his feelings toward her were requited.
Or had been, once.
“Are you two together?” I asked, clutching her phone and taking a deep breath. It didn’t take much to consecrate it. It was weird, but you’d think I’d need a special ceremony or something to “bless” things but no, actually, that apparently just came with my status as a self-proclaimed shaman.
“No.” Yolanda blinked then looked away. “We were for a while. A couple of times, actually. However, every time we ended up breaking it off but continuing our partnership.”
“Why’s that?”
“What’s this got to do with my son’s séance?”
I gritted my teeth at that word. “Maybe I need to know who you are to work the magic.”
Yolanda closed her eyes. “I can’t focus on things other than the Hunt. Love isn’t something that’s going to make us better warriors or help us protect the world. It weakens you, makes you less sharp, and I don’
t think I could survive losing someone else like I did my son.”
“Would you still be able to continue if Larry died now?”
Yolanda didn’t respond.
“I didn’t think so,” I said, holding her phone. “This may come as a great shock to you, but I think it’s better to go with love and enjoying life than dedicating yourself to becoming a bigger, better killer.”
“We’ve saved a lot of lives,” Yolanda said.
“You’ve also taken five innocent ones,” I said, looking at her. “I think the world improves in a lot of ways. Ways better than killing things.”
I disagree.
“Shut up, Raguel,” I said, over to my gun.
Yolanda looked between us.
“The gun talks,” I said, shrugging. “You don’t want to know more.”
“Okay. Are we ready?”
“Yep! As ready as we’ll ever be.” I paused. “Except, you know, I need to know your son’s name. His true name.”
“Jefferson Jones,” Yolanda said. “It’s my last name, not his father’s. That’s—”
“Gotcha,” I said, feeling like her last name was the right one.
I leaned back against the headboard, closed my eyes, and began picturing all of the various symbols as well as images I needed to work the ritual. None of it was strictly necessary. The trick to magic wasn’t in words or gestures but the mind of the bearer. Getting to the right place where you could, literally, reorder reality was something that I’d struggled with for many years. In the end, though, I saw the Spirit World. I then dialed 555-SPOOK then hit Send.
Sparks filled the room as every light bulb inside the room exploded, one after the other. The air temperature dropped to the point I could see my breath. The burner phone displayed a series of nonsensical characters and I knew I’d overdone the ritual. Still, I could feel a presence inside the room.
I just hoped it was her son’s. “Here ya go.”
Yolanda grabbed the phone and held it to her ear, starting to talk in an animated fearful voice. “Jefferson, Jefferson!”
I tried not to listen in on her conversation but was it was necessary for me to stay due to the fact I was the “battery” for the connection between the Spirit World and this one to stay in place. What I did hear, despite my best efforts, was pretty much what one would expect of a good mother trying to see if her son was okay. There was much apologizing, much crying, and ultimately Yolanda didn’t want to say goodbye when her son did. Instead, the phone just died in her hands.
Yolanda was a mess, her face puffy and snot running from her nose. She didn’t wear much makeup, if any, so it wasn’t running, but she had the look of someone devastated by emotion she’d kept bottled up for years. I didn’t blame her, but it was sad. I briefly considered trying to comfort her before remembering she was likely to go for her gun if I did.
Yolanda stood up and went to the bathroom, cleaning off her face before returning. “Was any of that true or just shapechanger illusions?”
It was so insulting I almost snapped at her. “Lady, if I was going to lie to you, I wouldn’t do it this way.”
“How do I know that?” Yolanda asked.
“Would you believe me if I told you it was definitely your son or would you doubt anyway?” I asked. “Because I have a cousin named Jerry who refused to believe in magic or weredeer even when he turned into one.”
Yolanda blew into a pile of toilet paper. “How did that work out for him?”
“He eventually shot himself in the head,” I said, remembering the funeral. “He didn’t use silver bullets so he survived as a vegetable until his mother asked for him to be taken off life support. We can starve to death.”
Jerry had been an organ donor, too, but they hadn’t wanted them because they were afraid they were tainted with whatever horrible disease made shapeshifters into monsters. I hadn’t known the guy very well; he wasn’t like my cousin Jill, but it had devastated Aunt Jenna.
Yolanda looked down at the useless cell phone. “I guess there are some things we have to take on faith.”
“Do or do not, there is no try,” I said, shrugging and getting up. I stopped before I exited out the door, though. “I will say, though, I hope your son was in a happy place.”
“He is,” Yolanda said. “Though it didn’t sound like any kind of Heaven I’d ever heard of.”
“What was it?” I asked.
“A shopping mall,” Yolanda said. “He runs the arcade.”
“Sounds nice,” I said. “One man’s Heaven is another man’s…also Heaven.”
“I’m ready to go,” Yolanda said. “Thank you.”
“Just do your job.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I got to exchange a few words with Alex on our way out, but it was clear he didn’t want to talk given those conversation points were a grunt of agreement and, “We should get going.” I was glad Yolanda had gotten to speak with her son, but I wasn’t sure that was going to help us with our current problem of getting to the Dryad. Still, we all got together in my Hummer and Alex’s SUV to head out to Shadow Pine Park.
I half expected a manticore or the Flying Spaghetti Monster to attack us on the way, but we managed to get to the crowded park fine. It was surrounded by people who had come to investigate the crime scene and I was briefly worried we would end up going right back into the heart of the media when Yolanda handed over her dowsing rod to Alex. With a similar adjusting of the glyphs, the six of us found ourselves heading in the opposite direction of the murder pit.
Which turned into a long, long hike.
“Are we there yet?” Robyn asked, carrying a heavy backpack as she drank from a quart of bottled water.
“Yes,” I said, waving around the dowsing rod. I was standing in front of Larry and Yolanda, who were carrying their own heavy packs. Strangely, Larry was holding a frigging war hammer while wearing a pair of metal gauntlets as well as a medieval-looking belt. Alex was walking behind the group. He leaned heavily on a wooden staff similar to mine. He’d put on a pair of boots but was still wearing his FBI uniform. Emma was in dire wolf form, looking like a combination of wolf and pony as she walked beside me.
“Really?” Robyn asked.
“No,” I said, sighing. “Also, that’s like your sixth bottle. We’re not stopping so you can pee again.”
“I’m a plant, I need water and sunlight,” Robyn said, putting on a pair of sunglasses and raising her hoodie.
I rolled my eyes. “We need to get your situation resolved. You’re way too snarky for this group and stealing my thunder.”
Larry laughed at that.
No one else did.
“Where did you even get that hammer, anyway?” I asked, looking over at Larry’s weapon. “It looks halfway between a sledge and a maul.”
“It’s a giant’s hammer,” Larry said. “Supposedly belonged to a god.”
Robyn muttered. “Gods, gods, gods.”
Larry said, “Supposedly a Norse one. I think he only existed in comic books, though. Magni or something.”
“Magni is a real Norse god,” I said, remembering what I read. “His brother is Modi and they’re Thor’s sons with the giant Járnsaxa.”
“I thought Sif was Thor’s wife,” Larry said.
“In real mythology, human relationships are actually like real-people relationships. Full of ugliness and adultery,” I said, pausing. “Of course, real people note that this kind of thing is forgivable and doesn’t apply to relationships before people start dating.”
Alex grumbled. “I’m not mad at you anymore, Jane. I’m focused on the immediate danger we’re facing in the Dryad’s defenses. Whoever attacked you in the parking lot and hired Anne O’Henry to kill Lucien is going to be formidable. That doesn’t include whatever defenses the original Brotherhood of Trees and the fairies living here have set up to defend their home.”
“Oh,” I said, huffing. “Well, you could have told me about that versus leaving me stewing this time entire time.�
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Alex didn’t respond, looking troubled.
“Am I missing something?” Larry asked.
“Teen drama,” Yolanda said, chuckling under her breathe. “Apparently, mons…supernaturals get it too.”
“I am not a teenager.” I looked up between the great Douglas firs around us. “I am nineteen. In some parts of the world, that’s the age where I’d be taking over the family business.”
“Just not America,” Larry said.
“Shut up, Hammertime,” I muttered. I hated that everyone knew my business in this group and wasn’t sure how it could get worse.
“I should probably mention I’ve told Lucien to meet up with us here. I sense his presence nearby,” Alex said.
I spun my head around and stared at him. “Excuse moi? You must be speaking French, because I know you didn’t just speak English.”
Alex’s voice was dry. “I am going to have it out with my brother after this is over in the traditional manner. Before that, though, we need all hands on deck.”
“What’s the traditional manner?” Robin asked.
“We punch and kick each other until we feel better,” Alex said without missing a beat. “The way brothers trained in the martial arts do.”
“Your brother is a dragon,” Larry said.
Alex nodded. “It almost makes it a fair fight.”
I tried to hide my explosive anger but failed, gritting my teeth. “You are not going to beat up your brother because of me. I thought you were above this kind of macho crap and my gods, are you really going to—”
Everyone was looking past my shoulders.
“Is there a monster or Lucien behind me?” I asked. “Because I’m really hoping it’s the monster.”
“Hey!” Lucien said.
“Dammit,” I muttered, turning around. “How did you sneak up on us despite my awesome weredeer hearing?”
Lucien was standing there, wearing a red-and-black flannel shirt over jeans that somehow still looked good on him. Like he was a cologne ad in Backwoods Adventurer. He was standing by Deana, wearing similar attire, and Gerald who was simply wearing a hoodie as well as pair of sunglasses.
