Santo had killed the engine and told them they would make the rest of the journey on foot. He had been very quiet along the drive. The only piece of information he had given them was that the safe house in downtown Toronto had been compromised, and that he was taking them to another one. His reluctance to give them any more information made Kara uneasy.
Santo led the way along the winding gravel road. Kara and the others crunched along behind him. Blue Jays and Chickadees chirped happily as they swung from tree to tree, and Kara wondered if they were announcing the arrival of angels in their forest. A light rain slipped through the branches of thirty-foot high hemlock trees and wild raspberry bushes lined the road on either side. Kara loved raspberry pie, especially her grandmother’s. She’d give anything to taste the sweetness of it on her tongue just this one time.
The smell of earth and pine filled her nose as tall grasses swayed back and forth in the soft breeze. Kara was glad to be out of the city, with its rowdy noises and stuffy exhaust-filled air.
Mosquitoes buzzed around Jenny’s ears searching for blood. She cursed and smacked at her own face. Somehow the bugs enjoyed her essence, but not the others’.
Even Santo seemed immune to the bugs. He strode ahead of them purposely, his face pulled in a tight scowl. Kara watched him as he scouted the land, his hand clutched around the hilt of his sword at all times. His suit and fedora hat seemed out of place in the wilderness, but he carried himself easily, as though he had been here countless times before. She realized that she couldn’t even hear the sound of his boots scraping the stones in the path. His steps glided over the gravel, soundless, never touching. She wondered where he had been brought up. Santo was indeed a great mystery.
After they had walked for half an hour, the road veered to the right, but Santo continued straight through and crossed a wild field. David and Kara shared a look, and then followed quickly behind. Within moments the wall of trees ended, and a light grey sky peered down at them. It was as though giant doors had opened and let the sky in. The darkness of the forest lifted, and Kara felt her mood rise.
A single log cabin sat on a small rise. Hidden amongst the tall hemlock trees, it was the only manmade edifice for miles. It looked out of place in the middle of nowhere. Large logs formed a wraparound porch that was littered with handmade chairs and broken flowerpots. Red and blue striped curtains were drawn over the windows. The smell of onions and cabbage reminded her of her grandmother’s cottage. The eerie similarities made her tense.
Santo stepped up to the front porch. Strips of red paint peeled from the front door. Dried leaves slid around the porch in tiny whirlwinds. The floorboards creaked under his weight and sounded like the creepy music from an old organ.
Kara climbed up the steps two at a time. “Santo, what are we doing here? You haven’t said much since we got out of the car.” She kept her voice low and hid the anxiety in it. He had saved her and the others many times, but the fact that he was silent and keeping things from her now made her nervous.
“You’re here to meet Elder Otis,” said Santo casually.
Kara looked confused.
He elaborated further. “There are elders amongst the Sensitives, the wisest and eldest of our members. The elders are the leaders of our groups—they lay down the laws—and we abide by them. Our world is divided into seven districts, and each district is governed by an elder.”
Kara pondered this new information. Of course being somewhat new to the entire GA thing, she wasn’t as educated in terms of the supernatural as her comrades. Their calm expressions told her that they already knew. She felt a little annoyed.
“I had no idea.” Kara’s eyes followed Santo’s deep scar across his face. He caught her looking, and she looked away abashed. “So...what does he want with us?” she blurted out, hoping to make the uncomfortable situation disappear. She looked at a piece of peeling paint on the door.
“That’s all I can tell you for now. He asked to speak to you directly, Kara. I don’t know anything else.”
Kara frowned and looked at the others. David leaned on the front railing and crossed his arms over his chest. He raised his brows questioningly. Jenny and Peter only shrugged. What was going on? Why did this elder want to speak to her personally?
Santo knocked twice, then once, and after a beat, once again. The curtain in the front door window swayed and then went still. After a moment, there was a click, and the front door screeched open.
A man with a deep frown and large square jaw moved in to the threshold, his broad shoulders grazing the edges of the door. His dark tailored suit revealed his bulging muscles, and the hilt of his sword glimmered in the light. His eyes were hazel, as he surveyed the group for a moment. Kara felt he looked more like a wrestler than a Sensitive. He curled thick fingers into a fist and raised his right hand before Santo. A golden ring in the shape of a dagger shone from his finger. Santo did the same, and both men touched fists and then lowered their hands. Kara noticed that Santo wore exactly the same kind of ring on his right hand. She wondered why she had never noticed it before.
“Welcome back, Santo,” said the big man, in a booming voice that matched his physique.
“Thank you, Tabbris. It’s been a while, my old friend.”
Tabbris smiled. “It’s been far too long. Come, Elder Otis has been expecting you.” He backed away from the door and cleared a path for the others.
“The big guy must be the body guard,” whispered David in Kara’s ear. She shifted her weight and rubbed her hands on her jeans. This new territory was making her edgy.
“Come.” Santo walked through the entrance, and Tabbris shut the door behind them. Like a redwood tree, he stood tall and proud with his arms crossed on his large chest and his back to the door. Kara shared a sidelong glance with David and then followed Santo.
She stepped into the large room. The air was hot and smelled of mold and damp carpets. The only light came from two small table lamps tucked away in the far corners. Pots and pans hung from a wooden beam above the small kitchen that occupied the right side of the cabin. A woman busied herself stirring a large pot over a hot stove. She wore a white apron over her black pantsuit. Her grey hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She looked up briefly as they entered, her green eyes sharp, and then returned to her pots.
A group of Sensitives sat in chairs around a large stone fireplace in the middle of the living room. The logs sat untouched. Their grim faces were hid under the rim of their fedora hats. Kara half expected to see her grandmother knitting by the fireplace. But the rocking chair sat alone.
An old man lay comfortably on a small couch positioned near the rear windows on the left side of the cabin. Covered in a red and black wool blanket, he looked more like a mummified corpse than a living man. Long wispy white hair edged his nearly bald head, and blue spidery veins laced his scalp.
Kara was still uneasy, but the strange scene was compelling.
Parchment-thin skin covered his sunken face, which almost disappeared into thousand of wrinkles. His long white beard grazed the floor. His skeletal arms were folded on his chest, which rose and fell in an imperceptibly slow rhythm. Kara had never seen anyone so old, so ancient and still breathing.
Century old intelligence reflected in his eyes as he watched Kara from across the room. She shifted uncomfortably on the spot and laced her fingers behind her back. With tremendous effort, the old man raised a bone-thin finger. Shaking, he motioned for Kara to come forward.
Santo pressed a hand on her back and pushed her forward gently. “Go, Kara. It’s all right; he doesn’t bite. And please address him as Elder Otis.”
Obediently, Kara stepped forward. She stole a look behind her and watched David, Jenny, and Peter take seats in a nearby couch. David’s worried expression made Kara feel worse. She crossed the room cautiously, afraid that any sudden loud noise would make him explode into a cloud of dust.
She stopped at the edge of the couch and looked into his blue eyes. She t
ried to smile, but her lips were numb. Feeling like an idiot, she tried not to stare.
Elder Otis smiled, exposing his pink gums. His eyes disappeared under a wave of wrinkles. “It’s nice to finally meet you, guardian angel, Kara Nightingale.”
His voice was rough and nearly a whisper. Kara had to lean forward to hear him better. With a shaking hand he patted an empty space beside him. A large golden ring with a lion’s head and emerald eyes wrapped his bony index finger. It probably fit him years ago, but now it rolled to the side and looked two sizes too big.
“Thank you.” Kara sat very gently, afraid that she might crush him under her weight. Elder Otis kept smiling and stared at her for a long moment before he spoke again.
“I’ve been waiting to meet with you, Kara.”
With her eyes wide, Kara raised her voice and articulated each word carefully. “Me, Elder Otis? But why?”
“It’s okay, child. I’m not deaf,” laughed the elder. He started to wheeze and then coughed. Kara sat frozen. Immediately, the woman from the kitchen came with a glass of water. She held it to his mouth and helped him take a few sips. He waved her off after a moment. The woman put the half-full glass on a side table, gave Kara a stern look, as if this had been her fault, and shuffled off. Kara shifted towards the edge of the couch. She rubbed her palms against her thighs.
“I’ve been waiting to meet you, because you are very special,” continued Elder Otis. He smiled again, and his pink gums reappeared. “You see, the prophecies speak of an extraordinary angel that will come in a time of great misery in the mortal world...” He raised his emaciated hands and laced his fingers as he continued, “...an angel with tainted powers, with a rare combination of dark and light energy, who will save the human race from total annihilation.
“And you, my dear...are the one.”
Chapter 8
A tiny Prophecy
Marked, Soul Guardians Book 1 Page 92
