Sentinel - Progression Series 11 Pilgrimage Part 2

by Beth Manz

  Jim stood to his feet and extended a hand. “Lead on.”

  Jim listened as Blair moved around their small camp, tracking him with his hearing. Sandburg was busy setting up a place for them to sleep for the night. Jim could feel the heat of the fire that still burned nearby, the fire his guide had used to cook the fish he’d caught for them earlier in the evening. Jim still couldn’t see, but even without his sight he felt...satisfied.

  Since crossing the bridge, Blair seemed more confident than he had during this entire journey. And Jim couldn’t help but be pleased by it.

  “You know what I’m not going to miss about this place?” Blair asked suddenly.

  “What’s that?”

  Blair sat down across from Jim, their knees touching slightly. “The fish, man.”

  Jim chuckled. “The protein is good for you, Sandburg.”

  “Well, you know, as much as I might gripe about junk food, what I could really go for right now is a nice, greasy pizza.”

  “Don’t even say it,” Jim groaned.

  “Pizza,” Blair continued, ignoring Jim’s protest. “With mushrooms and green peppers.”

  “And pepperoni,” Jim added. “Pepperoni and ham.”

  “And pineapple.”

  “Pineapple? Sandburg, you are the only person who could take a perfectly good fantasy about junk food and ruin it.”

  “Pineapple is not ruining it. You said ham and I once had a ham and pineapple pizza and it was good. It’s Hawaiian style.”

  Jim laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a real man of the world, aren’t you, Chief?”

  “Yeah, that’s me. Though I can just imagine the look on my students' faces if I should ever decide to tell them about this particular journey!”

  The two men fell into congenial silence. Jim listened to the breeze as it moved through the trees around them, sighed with contentment as the cool evening air brushed over his skin. Even without his heightened senses, he could appreciate the beauty of this place, could sense its mystery.

  Somewhere nearby, the wolf howled. "I think he sounds better,” Jim commented absently.

  "Definitely better,” Blair agreed. “You think that's some sort of sign?"

  "In this place? Who knows?"

  “Jim,” Blair paused for a moment, as if unsure whether to share his next thought. Then, “Do you think if anyone else had been with you when Incacha died, that he would have passed the way of the shaman on to them instead?”

  “No, I don't,” Jim answered without hesitation. “I think whatever Incacha passed on to you was meant for you. If Simon or Joel or someone else had been with me, I don't believe it would have happened at all.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Blair muttered.

  Jim leaned forward and gripped his guide’s knee. “Blair, do you remember what I told Hannah that day I found you in her house--when she had that knife to your throat?”

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  “What did I tell her, Chief?”

  “Jim—“

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  Blair let out a weary breath. "You told her I was a part of you,” he whispered. “That if she destroyed me, she'd destroy you as well."

  “Did you think I was lying when I said that?”

  “I think you were trying to save my life,” Blair muttered.

  “So, you didn’t believe me?”

  “It’s not that, Jim. It’s just that…in extreme situations, we say extreme things. You said what you had to so she wouldn’t cut my throat.”

  “Blair, I said those words because they’re true. You are a part of me. Incacha knew that, sensed it before I could myself. I was too afraid of it. You told me that once--that I base my decisions and actions on fear, and you were right. But I’m not afraid of what this means anymore, Blair.” He released Sandburg's knee and sat back. “I’m glad we’re taking this journey together.”

  He heard Blair exhale a small laugh of pleasure. “Me too, man. Me too.”

  The two men fell silent again. Blair shifted slightly until his knees were no longer touching Jim’s. And as the seconds drifted into minutes, tension wound its way through the blinded sentinel.

  “Blair? Could you keep talking to me?”

  “About what?”

  “Anything. It’s just...I can’t see you and I still can’t detect your heartbeat and when you’re quiet.... I gotta tell you, Chief, that’s a little unnerving for me right now.”

  “My being quiet is unnerving for you?” Blair laughed lightly. “I’m going to remind you later that you said that.”

  Jim smiled at his friend’s teasing. But as the silence once again reached out and embraced him, he shivered. Before he even realized he was doing it, Jim strained to hear Blair’s heartbeat. Nothing.

  What if he never heard it again? What if, based on the decision Blair made in this place, that sound was lost to him forever?

  “You okay, man?” Blair asked. “You just got real tense.”

  “Blair,” Jim began softly, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you exactly how much I rely on the sound of your heart. It’s kind of like a beacon for me. I always know where you are based on that sound, and a lot of the time I even know what your mood is depending on how it’s beating. And now that I don’t have that...when it’s really quiet, like it was just now, I worry that you’ve been taken away from me.”

  “I’m right here, man.” Blair took Jim’s hand in his and held tightly. “And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  Part Four

  Blair awoke the next morning to find that Jim had moved away from him some time during the night. Opening his eyes and glancing to his left, he saw the sentinel a few inches away. Jim's body was curled into a tight, uncomfortable-looking ball, but it wasn't Jim's position that bothered Blair--it was the trembling he noticed across the broad back and shoulders and the tremulous inhalation of each breath that Jim drew into his lungs.

  "Jim?" He moved quickly to the sentinel, concern tightening his stomach. “Hey man.” He placed a hand on Jim's arm before leaning over so he could get a glimpse of his friend's face. Jim's eyes were squeezed shut, his forehead lined with pain. "You okay?”

  His only answer was a small groan.

  "C'mon, Jim. Tell me what's wrong."

  "I don't know what's wrong," Ellison answered after a few seconds. "I feel awful."

  "All right, let me check you out." Blair urged Jim onto his back then knelt over him and felt his forehead. It was warm--too warm. "Open your eyes, buddy." When Jim obeyed, Blair asked, "How's your vision? Can you see me?"

  There was a short pause as Jim stared upward in Blair's direction, then distress shadowed the strong features. "No," he whispered out. "I can't."

  Blair patted at his shoulder, hoping to reassure his friend. "That's all right. We know the loss of vision has to do with this test, so we can handle it. Right?"

  "Right," Jim answered in agreement, but the tone of his voice was laced with obvious frustration.

  "Okay, now, tell me how you're feeling."

  Jim reached up and rubbed at his eyes. "Miserable."

  "Miserable doesn't tell me anything, Jim. I need to know specifically what's going on with you."

  "My muscles ache, I get dizzy if I try to sit up, and I feel like I have no energy at all."

  "Sounds like the flu," he quipped.

  Jim dropped his hand away from his face and shot Blair a caustic look. "I don't think there's any such thing as the flu in the spirit world, Sandburg."

  "Yeah, I didn't think so, either" Blair mulled, ignoring Jim's peevishness. "So, that means it's a part of the test."

  "A part I could do without," Jim grumbled. "But I think you're probably right," he agreed after a few seconds, acceptance warming his voice. Slowly, reaching out blindly for Blair's assistance, the sentinel pushed himself up to a sitting position. His hand sought and found Blair's arm and he squeezed lightly. "Listen, Chief, I don't think I can travel in this condition. You need to go o
n without me."

  "What?" Blair spat out. "Oh, no! Absolutely no way, man! We are in this together or not at all."

  Jim shook his head. "You're not listening to me. I can't make it. I'll only slow you down. This is your journey." He patted affectionately at Blair's arm. "You can do this alone."

  Blair exhaled a long, audible sigh as he tried to decide what he should do. He just didn't feel right leaving Jim behind. It was his belief that Incacha had placed them together in this strange world for a reason….

  Still undecided, Blair's gaze traveled upward to a small rise above them. The panther and wolf sat side by side on the knoll, watching the two men in the clearing. When Blair's gaze met that of the wolf, the animal stood and moved forward a few feet. It appeared to be much stronger this morning; it was panting, wagging its tail, and its eyes were brighter and clearer than they had been the day before. As Blair continued to watch, the wolf turned and walked away several feet, stopped, then looked back at Blair. When Sandburg didn't move, it again turned and moved in Blair's direction, its body language radiating energy and impatience, as though it was waiting for the two men to get started. Beside the wolf, the panther stared down impassively at Blair, its tail twitching behind it. It sniffed the air for a long moment, then opened its mouth and growled loudly.

  His decision made, Blair stood and reached down for Jim. "C'mon, buddy," he encouraged as he took Jim's hand and guided the sentinel's arm up around his neck. Bracing himself, he pulled Jim to his feet, waited until the larger man had gained his balance, then slipped his arm around Jim's waist. "Our traveling companions seem to be anxious for us to get started."

  "Sandburg--”

  "We can do this, Jim."

  Jim swayed against him and the taller man grasped Blair's shoulder more tightly in order to steady himself. "This is not a good idea," he stated evenly.

  "We have to do this. I don’t think we have a choice." Sandburg placed his palm flat against Jim's midsection, leaned into him and spoke insistently: "Listen to me--all you have to worry about is putting one foot in front of the other. I'll do the rest. You with me?"

  Jim frowned down at him for a long moment, then an indulgent smile softened his features. "Yeah, I'm with you, Chief."

  Together, the two men started up the slight incline toward the rise where the animal guides were waiting. As Blair glanced up at the wolf, the animal wagged its tail, turned, and disappeared across the top of the small hill. The panther sat somberly, gazing with seeming disinterest at the struggling men. Then it stood slowly, stretched, and nonchalantly followed the wolf, its long tail swishing lazily behind it.

  "Cats," Blair muttered to himself as the imperturbable animal disappeared from view. "No matter what you do, they're never impressed."

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just think your animal guide has an attitude.”

  Blair's thoughts turned longingly back to the small incline that had been the starting point of their journey this morning. He hadn't realized at the time that the gently rising path up to the knoll would be the easiest part of their travels. Beyond the rise the terrain had wound steadily upward over increasingly steep hills and the forest floor had become rocky and difficult to navigate.

  The traveling had been especially tedious and frustrating for Jim. Blind, sick, completely dependent upon Sandburg, he had set his jaw and remained silent as Blair led him around or across obstacles in their path or urged him up another incline. But the sentinel hadn't complained, had only taken a few moments to rest when necessary and then had encouraged Blair on with a pat on the shoulder or a succinct, "Let's go, Chief."

  Now, three hours away from the clearing where they had spent the night, both men were physically exhausted.

  "I hear water," Blair said, the idea of a cool drink sending a surge of excitement through him. He turned in a slow circle until he could decide which direction the sound was coming from. “This way, man.”

  He led Jim to the edge of the small stream, where they knelt down side by side. Before drinking, Blair splashed some of the cold, clear water across his perspiring face and up over his arms. He chuckled to himself as he noticed Jim doing the same thing. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

  "Tastes even better," Jim amended after swallowing a handful of the clear, cold liquid.

  The two men drank until they were satisfied, then Blair stood. Reaching down, he took Jim's hand and helped him to his feet. "Let's rest a bit, okay? There's a log over here where we can sit down."

  Both men dropped down on the moss-covered log and exhaled simultaneous sighs of thankful relief. There were several minutes of quiet as they caught their breaths and rested their weary muscles.

  Finally, Blair broke the silence. "How are you feeling?"

  The sentinel shook his head. "A bit better. I'm not as dizzy. I just wish I'd get my sight back."

  "I know you do," Blair agreed softly. "Me, too." And as he continued to look at Jim, he realized that in spite of being ill, tired and blind, the sentinel sat erect, at full alert. Blair smiled. Always watching, always protecting. "Jim?" he asked at length, "what did you have to do when you finally made your decision to accept your sentinel abilities?”

  The question brought a smile to Jim's lips and a twinkle of mischief danced in the unseeing eyes. He looked in Blair's direction. "Well, I was led to a cliff--"

  "You were led to a what?" Blair cut-in, his voice edged with panic.

  Jim couldn’t help but laugh at Sandburg's reaction. "That's right. There was a cliff and I knew I had no choice but to go forward if I wanted to accept my abilities."

  "Great!" Blair groused, pushing his hands through his tangled hair. "That's just great. A cliff, and me with my fear of heights. Like that bridge yesterday wasn't test enough!" He gestured wildly, though he knew Jim couldn't see it. "What are these spirit people, anyway," he asked, lowering his voice and looking around for any signs of Incacha, "a bunch of sadists?"

  Again, Jim laughed. But as Blair watched, the grin slowly faded and the sentinel became serious. "Your test might be different, Sandburg," he told him softly. "But what if it isn't? Are you telling me that if your test involves facing a cliff, you won't be able to make your decision?"

  Blair caught the undercurrent of worry in the comment. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all, man." He was silent for a moment, then he said with conviction, "It'll be hard. But even if it is a cliff, I feel I'm ready to make my decision."

  A soft, hopeful smile lit Jim's features. Blair's voice conveyed peace, acceptance. "You're ready to take-on your role as shaman? Are you sure?"

  "Yes, Jim. I'm sure…."

  And with those words, the forest surrounding the two men suddenly changed. No longer were they seated near the small stream. Instead, they stood in a clearing that edged another deep ravine. Instinctively, Blair backed away from the ledge, drawing Jim with him.

  "What happened, Chief? We aren't at the stream anymore. Where are we?”

  Blair tore his gaze away from the cliff’s sharp drop-off and looked up at Jim. His partner’s unseeing eyes darted from side to side, his body was rigid, tense.

  "We’re at a cliff," Blair explained, struggling to keep his voice from wavering, the sudden change in scenery, the cliff before him putting him off his game. Movement to his left caught his eye and he turned. A vaguely uneasy feeling washed through him. "I think this is the end of our journey," he said, tightening the hold he had on Jim's arm. "Incacha's here…and he has the wolf and the panther with him."

  "Young one," the Chopec greeted Blair as he stepped out of the forest and walked up to the two men, "you have completed your journey. It is now time to make your decision."

  Blair’s brow creased in confusion. "I don't understand--”

  "You will," the warrior interrupted. "But first, are you ready to accept your destiny?"

  Blair looked over at the cliff, up at Jim, then back at Incacha. Drawing in a deep breath and straightening his shoulders, he nodded. "I am."

  "
Very well. It is time."

  Incacha moved to the cliff and motioned for Blair to join him. The young man dropped his hand from Jim's arm and reluctantly went to stand beside the Chopec warrior. He closed his eyes, swallowed deeply, then opened his eyes again and stared over the edge of the ravine into the mist below. "I have to go forward, don't I?"

  "Only if you choose to accept what you are, young one," Incacha replied simply.

  Again, Blair took a deep breath. "All right," he said, turning to face Incacha, "if that's what it takes." He shifted his gaze away from the Chopec, back to the spot where he had left Jim standing. "Jim…."

  But the sentinel was nowhere to be seen. A wave of apprehension wound through Blair as he scanned the tree line looking for his partner. His gaze cut across the small clearing to where the two animal spirits had been sitting side by side. Only the wolf remained.

  "I don't understand.” He jerked toward Incacha, his pulse pounding in his ears. "Where's Jim?"

  Incacha shook his head. "Your sentinel cannot help you, young one. You must make your decision alone."

  Jim reached up and placed his hands across his ears in a dazed attempt to shut out the cacophony that assaulted him. Slowly, eyes closed, he allowed awareness to overtake him. Harried voices calling for tests, stat; concerned voices asking about the condition of family members; the steady beeping of medical equipment; the soft squish of rubber soles against vinyl…

  His eyes snapped open and he squinted against the painfully bright light. Blinking past the unpleasantness, he surveyed his surroundings. He was no longer in the jungle--that much was apparent. Instead, he was lying on an examination table in a small, curtained cubicle--a fact that registered in his confused mind several seconds before he realized that he was no longer blind.

  "Mr. Ellison?" A middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform leaned over him, looked into his eyes with professional scrutiny, then studied the monitors mounted at the head of the table. "We've been worried about you. How are you feeling?"