Valley of the Broken (Sage of Sevens Book 1)

by K. F. Baugh

  Even though she’d swam in this pool so often she could have done it with her eyes closed, Sage opened them in the dark depths, relishing the water’s cold touch on every part of her body. Once she reached the edge, Sage pushed off the rocky bottom and swam toward the sunlight. Breaking the surface with a gasp, she erupted in an explosion of water droplets that scattered like diamonds through the air.

  Usually Gus followed her into the water, but this time Sage was thankful for the solitude as she stroked laps back and forth across the pool. So much had happened in the last few days: three murders of striking brutality, Tim thrown into her life, and now the police attempting to frame the two of them for at least one of the murders. She shoved details, feelings, conclusions, and similarities into different corners of her mind.

  Exhausted by her icy laps, she flipped onto her back and let herself float in the soft rippling currents. Sage silenced her thoughts, and when she had finally found the center of herself in the empty stillness, the Wind came. It skipped over the pond and whispered in her ear.

  “Where is your dog, Broken One? Usually he makes so much noise I cannot speak to you here.”

  “With the Priest. As if you didn’t know.”

  “Yes, the Priest,” the voice hummed. “He is part of this story now too, isn’t he?”

  “It looks that way,” Sage said, “although I don’t know if he’ll be strong enough to handle all this.”

  The Wind chuckled, “He is much stronger than you think. Do not confuse his emotion with weakness. He feels the suffering of others with every part of his being. He does not allow himself to ignore their stories. That is not weakness. It is a great pain that he does not hide from.”

  “You’re implying that I hide away from pain?” Sage kicked and the water churned.

  “I say only that you are different people. That he embraces pain, and you fight against it. Not everyone walks their path in the same way.”

  “That’s helpful,” Sage sighed and swam to the sandy beach. She climbed out and lay on a large granite rock, allowing the sun to dry her skin and hair.

  The breeze stroked her forehead and danced through her hair, helping it dry and lulling her almost to sleep. After a while it gently nudged her back to consciousness.

  “It’s time for you to go.”

  “And do what?” Sage asked. “We can’t go back into town because the police are looking for us. We’ve looked at all the pictures on Tim’s computer, and there’s no answers there. Plus the guy is seriously messed up. And I’m no babysitter.”

  “Continue to search for what is hidden. You have many gifts. I know you sense the source of this evil, even if your mind has not yet recognized it.” The breeze grew louder, and Sage lunged to grab her clothes before they blew away. A cloud passed over the sun. The temperature dropped. Goosebumps pricked her skin, and Sage dressed hurriedly.

  “But beware the creature that stalks you. For now its power is limited to the boundaries of Oriel Valley, but not for much longer.”

  “Wonderful,” Sage said. She pulled her shirt over her head and ran her fingers through dry but tangled hair.

  “I will be back,” the Wind spoke as it danced away in the trees. “But this evil is tangled into many threads. You must find more of what is hidden before we speak again.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cloudy skies moved in over the western peaks, and Sage shivered as she hiked back to the campsite. She scanned the area for Tim but didn’t see him anywhere. When she called his name, a whine sounded from inside the tent.

  Sage unzipped the rain fly and found Tim sound asleep on his side. Gus watched over him from where he lay curled at the back of Tim’s knees. The dog looked up and thumped his tail but didn’t move. Sage nodded then zipped the tent closed once more.

  Perched on a rotting log next to the tent, Sage tried to ignore the irritation that ricocheted through her. Waiting was not something she enjoyed. She picked at a hole in her cargo pants while the Wind’s words reverberated through her mind: continue to search for what is hidden.

  She let out an annoyed puff. Just once she’d love it if the Wind came out and told her exactly what to do. But if history was any guide, the Wind could not be forced to operate in any way other than its own ambiguous M.O.

  Nervous energy buzzed through her, and she pushed up from her perch on the log. It was time to go, but she would let Tim sleep. From what the Wind had hinted at, they’d need all the strength they could get, and Gus would do his best to keep nightmares and anything else at bay.

  Sage quietly opened the Jeep, pulled a notepad from the glove compartment, and scribbled a message.

  Tim,

  Going to hike around for a bit and see if I find anything. Wait here and rest. I’ll be back in time for dinner. Stay with Gus.

  Sage

  Sage rolled up the note and shoved it through the zipper opening of the tent. The sun peeked around the clouds while she considered which direction to go. If she took the path to her swimming hole and continued on over the peaks in front of her, she’d eventually come to the Oriel Valley. The path cut through a forest and then into a clearing a few miles past the now notorious Coyote Mine as she’d come to think of it, a place she never wanted to go near again. However, with what the Wind had said, creepy places were exactly where she’d discover something.

  After nearly two hours of brisk hiking, Sage came to the last ridge that separated her from the Oriel Valley. Climbing cautiously onto a promontory, Sage surveyed the vista.

  Picture-perfect cabins lay scattered across the valley floor. What was it about this place that put her so on edge? The Orielites were fanatics about keeping their natural surrounding rustic and untouched, something Sage strove for herself. But instead of the harmony this shared philosophy should have inspired, she felt disturbed by whatever lurked beneath the beautiful surface.

  Her gaze traveled down the length of the lowland then back up the hillside. A few hundred yards away stood the last ramshackle evidence of the valley’s early mining history: Old Hank’s cabin.

  Feeling a tug toward the dilapidated building, Sage set off toward it, but made sure to stay well hidden behind the treeline. Although most of the buildings of the Oriel Biological Research Station lay far below her on the valley floor, she didn’t want to take any chance that she’d be spotted by the marmot-obsessed scientists.

  Sage had nearly forgotten that Hank lived in this valley. Back when she first arrived in Black Mills, the two regularly saw each other on the mountain trails in the surrounding area. These encounters had become rare in recent years. Sage searched her memory and realized the last time she’d seen Hank was at the opening day celebration for the ski resort last November. Normally she would have avoided such a gathering, but Liddy had begged Sage to accompany her to the party.

  The ski resort, in its never-ending quest for catchy advertising, had created a new logo with Hank as a grizzled mountain man on skis with the words Black Mills Original underneath.

  He was the oldest living resident of the Oriel/Black Mills area and at the unveiling of the logo, the announcer asked. “Maybe you’d like to let us in on how old you actually are, Hank?”

  “Not too old to enjoy all these pretty ski bunnies!” He yelled, squeezing the bikini clad girls next to him as the crowd cheered. Liquor flowed, and he’d become wilder and wilder. His behavior surprised Sage because he seemed so quiet and withdrawn when she met him in her mountain wanderings.

  His great-grandfather had been one of the original miners who’d discovered the first silver vein in Oriel Valley. Rumors of unbelievable riches circulated and lured thousands of hopeful adventurers to the surrounding area, but the vein was a small one and quickly dried up. A while later uranium had also been discovered, and despite the dangers of its extraction, this radioactive ore had been the true source of Hank’s wealth. For all his family’s prosperity and prestige, Hank had always seemed to prefer a reclusive life. At least until this ski party.

  Sa
ge shook away the memories and crept out from the trees that skirted the graying log cabin. A tingling burst of energy shot through her limbs, and Sage whirled around, sure that something was trailing her. The woods creaked eerily in the gentle breeze, but her sharp eyes detected no other movement than the sway of pine branches and ripple of grass.

  The jittery anxiety that flowed through her did not diminish as she navigated the overgrown weeds and underbrush covering the gravel driveway and path. A rusty green bike leaned against the cabin’s front wall.

  Sage tapped on the front door and called out. “Hank, are you in there? It’s Sage.”

  No answer. She knocked again and the door moved. Sage saw that the lock wasn’t engaged and nudged the door open a few more inches.

  “Hank?” Sage called into the dim, musty room. Her eyes took a minute to adjust to the darkness. The Wind rustled behind her then pushed the door wide open.

  Feathers and bird droppings littered the floor and kicked up into miniature whirlwinds. Water stains trailed down from beneath broken window panes. Sage’s gaze traveled to the ceiling, and she saw bird nests lining the rafters. Ramshackle furniture lay scattered around the room, torn and ravaged by burrowing rodents and other small animals. In the last stages of its lonely decomposition, the room reeked of the decay and waste, and Sage forced herself to breathe through her mouth.

  The floor groaned like an old man when Sage crept across the rotting floorboards, around a dusty table, and toward the small kitchen. Scattered cans and pots lay on the counter and stove, as if someone had left abruptly in the middle of preparing a meal. A thick layer of dust coated everything, and Sage shivered. Something terrible had happened here.

  “Find it and get out,” the Wind said. “You must hurry!”

  Suddenly, the air turned electric, and the space around her felt charged, like it did before a lightning strike during a thunderstorm. Sage froze, trying to sense the source of the sudden change in atmosphere. Her intuition screamed at her to flee but not through the front door. Something was approaching from that direction. Rapidly.

  She scanned the walls of the cabin, but couldn’t find any other exit besides the dilapidated windows. Then she spied the cabin’s loft, accessed by a sturdy ladder and a wave of relief surged through her. Sage climbed the slanted rungs two at a time and hid in the shadows of the cabin’s loft.

  Another gust of Wind shoved her from her hiding place and down the hall. Sage stumbled against a door and fell into a small bathroom. Heart pounding in her ears, she opened the drawers of the old vanity, but found nothing more interesting than a hair brush and Q-tips. She dropped to her knees and dug through the clutter under the sink. Underneath some wadded up towels lay hundreds of small vials. As she grabbed a glass tube, the sunlight beaming through the small bathroom window vanished, darkening the small space. Sage squinted, trying to read the tiny label, but couldn’t make it out.

  The front door creaked open then slammed shut with a violence that shook the entire cabin. Trembling, Sage shoved a handful of containers in her vest pocket and silently rose to her feet. A dark, grating laugh rose from the room below.

  “I am here, Broken One. Did you think you could come into my valley, and I would not sense your presence?”

  The floorboards creaked from below and a terrible stench, one that overwhelmed even the cabin’s decay, filled the air. Sage shuddered in recognition. It was the same vile odor that had filled the Coyote Mine.

  She crept from the bathroom and looked over the railing. A massive black figure weaved its way through the shadows, looking into a closet, and then peering under the couch. With horror, Sage realized it was following the exact path she had just walked through the downstairs. Suddenly it stilled, as if sensing her gaze and wheeled around.

  She gripped the railing as her mind struggled to classify the creature’s dimly-lit features. Covered in patchy, dark gray fur, it stood upright, taller than a man. A lupine muzzle contorted into an almost human-like smile. Red eyes flashed in the weak light, and with one movement it leapt with awful grace onto the loft’s ladder.

  Sage ran back to the bathroom and locked the door only a second before the creature’s weight battered against it. Her hands shook as she ripped the towel rack from the wall and wedged it between the handle and floor; it would not hold long. Snarls faded into laughter, which Sage found even more terrifying.

  “Do you imagine you can escape from me? I have stalked ones greater than you and never once failed to devour my prey.” Sage choked back a sob as singe marks in the shape of claws began to bleed through the wood.

  Panic rushed through Sage’s mind, but she forced it down into the pit of her stomach. Suddenly a ray of sunlight touched her cheek, and Sage pulled the moldy shower curtain aside. Above the bathtub, light streamed through an octagonal window. She grabbed the first object she spotted, a mug full of shaving gear, and sent it crashing through the glass. Sage climbed atop the tub edge and knocked out most of the broken glass with her elbow. Although the opening was tiny, she pulled herself up and wedged her shoulders through it. Jagged glass sliced her hands, torso, and shoulders.

  An angry roar thundered from behind her, and she swore as sharp claws ripped the length of her dangling leg. Sage forced herself the rest of the way through the opening and launched herself off the window frame onto whatever lay below.

  Crashing into the slanted granite hillside, Sage heard a pop from her knee. Her right arm was pinned beneath her, and she felt a searing pain in her wrist, but Sage forced herself to her feet. The slathering rage of the creature sounded from above, and she prayed it was too large to follow her through the window.

  The Wind urged her forward with gale-force strength into the forest above Hank’s cabin. Pine trees tore at her face, hair, and clothes as she sprinted, hindering her escape as if in league with her pursuer. Her torn legs were clumsy, and she stumbled as she ran. There was no way she’d be able to outpace the creature.

  A loud crash resounded from only a few feet behind, and Sage knew the thing was gaining on her. Her lungs burned as she sprinted to the pinnacle of the valley, and her heart hammered in her ears.

  The Wind surged, its pressure on her back almost like a hand. “You are almost there,” It urged. “Make it over the hilltop.”

  As the ridge’s rocky crest appeared in front of her, she heard the creature’s roar and felt its claws tear at the back of her shirt. In a desperate burst of strength, Sage vaulted over the top of the jagged rocks. Their craggy edges tore through her pants and her shins before she tumbled to the ground. Curling her battered body into a tensed cocoon, she waited for the thing to pounce, but nothing happened.

  Cautiously, she sat up and took stock of her injuries. Her right wrist flopped uselessly, and her scalp and face stung with hundreds of cuts from the vindictive branches. Tattered clothes hid numerous painful gashes from the rocks and creature’s claws. Her fingers traced the bulge at the side of her knee. This at least she could fix. Sage shoved the dislocated kneecap back into place, and it settled into its groove with a pop.

  Trembling, Sage struggled to stand but stumbled backwards with a sharp cry. Less than two feet away, the beast crouched behind the rocks that separated them. When its eyes met Sage’s, the creature leapt. Sage stumbled back, with a shuddering sob, tensing herself against its attack. But nothing happened. The creature jerked and contorted against the space above the boulders as if an invisible barrier held it back.

  A relieved, shuddering breath escaped her. “The boundary of Oriel Valley,” the Wind whispered in her ear.

  The creature snarled and despite her terror, Sage couldn’t help but admire it with a horrified awe. She’d thought the thing large in Hank’s cabin, but with it only feet away, she saw it was at least seven feet tall. Even though it was slightly hunched over, the creature appeared to be equally agile on either two feet or four as it threw itself against the invisible barrier with increasing rage. Massive shoulders tapered down into sharp, jagged claws that w
ould have killed Sage in an instant if they’d had a chance to truly connect with her body on the chase. She shuddered at the revelation of its awful power.

  The creature suddenly paused, something like a smile appearing on its massive snarled maw. Its cruel, red eyes, too human in their perception for a true wolf, narrowed in calculation. Almost as if it could hear her thoughts.

  Shock rippled through her; the thing was actually relishing her fear. Rage overrode all other emotions, and Sage took a small step toward it, forcing out a defiant chuckle. “Guess I outran you,” she said. Momentarily overcoming the pain of her trembling, damaged limbs, she offered the creature a mock bow.

  It slathered a guttural stream of grunts and unintelligible words so hideous, Sage wished she could cover her ears. Instead she stood up straighter, ignoring the spasms of pain from nearly every inch of her body.

  “Maybe I’ll see you later,” she said and made herself walk away without looking over her shoulder. When she reached a thick patch of trees, Sage fell against them and pulled her body into their shadows.

  Concealed behind a boxy spruce, she watched as the creature paced the invisible border, its snarls and wails reverberating through the woods. Suddenly it stopped and cocked its head as if hearing a signal. The creature dropped to all fours, writhing and shuddering in obvious pain. Sage gasped as its cries transformed into a howl and the form shifted from the wolf-like creature to a large, but common coyote. Metamorphosis complete, the animal stopped its contortions and sniffed the air. After a moment it let out another howl which was quickly returned by others from around the surrounding hills. The coyote sniffed the air once more before disappearing back down into the valley.

  Tim! Gus! The peaceful image of the tent flitted into her adrenaline flooded brain. In a limping jog, Sage raced back in the direction of the campsite where she prayed the dog and the ex-priest still slept peacefully. Although her body screamed with pain, her mind reeled. What if Tim and Gus had followed her into the Oriel Valley?