Traitor's Son: The Raven Duet Book #2

by Hilari Bell

  “You’d think so,” said his mother wearily. “But when he first discovered he couldn’t rouse her, your grandfather tried some Native awakening ceremonies to . . . call her back, was how he put it. For some types of coma getting her into medical care quickly doesn’t matter much. But for some kinds,” she finished grimly, “it can make the difference between life and death.”

  “Carp,” Jase whispered. “Does Dad know about that?”

  “I got him out of the room just before he accused Gramps to his face of killing his own wife through ‘superstitious ignorance.’ And I shut him up, for the time being, by pointing out that waiting a few hours to call the medics might not have made any difference. We’d better hope that’s true,” she finished. “For all kinds of reasons.”

  There were tears in her eyes now, and a lump rose in Jase’s throat. If Gima died . . .

  He put his arm around his mother, not sure if he was trying to support her or clinging for comfort. It hardly mattered.

  They stepped out of the elevator together, and Jase saw his father and grandfather standing on either side of a man with a white coat over his suit.

  “ . . . so in a sense,” the doctor was saying, “this is encouraging news. The fact that there’s nothing wrong with her brain, no stroke, no tumors, no neural damage, that means that when she regains consciousness there’s an excellent chance she’ll be all right. We just need to find out why she’s not waking up.”

  “I keep telling you!” His grandfather’s voice was hoarse with worry and frustration. “She’s spirit walking!”

  The fine hairs on the back of Jase’s neck prickled at the words, and his grandfather went on, “I admit, I don’t understand why she’s not coming back. But unless you’ve got a medicine that can smooth a spirit’s path back to the body, you need to let me do some calling rituals!”

  Jase’s father drew in a breath to speak, but his wife wrapped both arms around him, murmuring urgently, and he subsided. His face was gray with fatigue and fear, and Jase almost went to hug him too. But his grandfather looked even worse, unshaven, in rumpled clothes. The lines on his face had deepened as if he’d aged ten years overnight.

  And Jase had a terrible sinking feeling that in this case his father might be wrong.

  The doctor considered the matter more thoughtfully than Jase had expected. “I can’t see that it would do any harm. If your calling ritual involves any stimulants, even if they’re in smoke form or absorbed through the skin, I’ll have to screen and OK them. The last thing we want is some herbal med reacting with whatever we decide to try. But if it’s just chanting and drums, that certainly wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “I need to paint the return path onto her body,” his grandfather said. “The paints are natural, no drugs in them. Nothing to be cleared.”

  “If you’re painting on her skin I want to analyze them first,” the doctor said firmly. “There might be physiological effects you don’t know about.”

  “There’s an entire world of knowledge he doesn’t know about,” Jase’s father said bitterly. “And I’m not about to stand by while he delays my mother’s real treatment with his idiocy! Doctor, what should we do next?”

  “Well,” said the doctor, “before I recommend any treatment we need to find the—”

  “I already know why she’s not waking up!” His grandfather’s pallor had vanished, but Jase wasn’t sure the angry flush that replaced it was an improvement. “I can sense the cord of light that binds her spirit to her body and will guide her back. I just don’t know why it’s taking so long this time.”

  This time? Had his grandmother gone spirit walking before? She’d said one of his ancestors was a spirit walker! Why hadn’t she told him she was talking about herself?

  “But as long as her spirit journeys, nothing you do will make any difference,” his grandfather continued. “You’re the ignorant ones!”

  He’d used the plural, but he was looking at Jase’s father.

  “Gramps. Michael.” His mother stepped between them. “It sounds like we’ve got some time. Why don’t you and I get a cup of coffee, Gramps, and you can tell me about these rituals. Jase, take your father for a walk.”

  Jase laid a hand on his father’s arm and found the muscles rigid with fury. Lawyerlike, he was masking most of what he felt, but he was about to erupt. And when Gima woke up, the quarrel she’d spent most of Jase’s life trying to mend might have become unmendable.

  “Come on, Dad, let’s get out of here. Fresh air.”

  For a moment he was afraid it wouldn’t work, but his mother had her own form of power. His father turned and walked away, so abruptly Jase had to scramble after him.

  There was a park beside the hospital, where Jase spent the better part of the next hour watching his father pace and rant about “Stone Age superstitions” and “traditions that strangle whole towns.”

  This wasn’t the moment to tell his father that Jase had been doing some spirit walking himself, lately. In fact, that day might never come.

  They talk about how hard it is for a Native, growing up in a white man’s world, his father had said to him once. Believe me, growing up a lawyer in a Native world is no easier.

  His father had fought his way out of that world, working furiously to get into law school, and after he graduated, too. And he’d tried to make it easier for other Native kids to follow his path.

  Jase couldn’t say he was wrong about that, no matter what his grandfather demanded.

  However, this time his grandfather was right. Almost right. Jase’s grandmother’s spirit wasn’t just out walking. She’d been kidnapped.

  Chapter 9

  It was night before Jase managed to escape from the hospital. His father and grandfather had resolved their immediate dilemma by communicating through Jase’s mother. Since the doctor’s next set of tests was scheduled for tomorrow, his grandfather had gone home to collect his ritual paraphernalia for the lab to screen. Jase’s father had chosen to stay in Gima’s room, holding her hand and talking to her. A white man’s calling ritual, his mother had said. She was trying to placate both sides, and ended up irritating both of them—though Jase thought she was right.

  He’d almost asked to go with his grandfather. They needed to discuss this! But after Jase had sided with his father for so many years, would his grandfather even believe him?

  The old man was going to try to get her back, using every shaman technique he knew, anyway. But Jase didn’t think it would work. The Spirit World was Otter Woman’s territory, more than any human’s. It would take more than a calling ritual to beat her.

  His mother rode home with him to pack some overnight gear, and then she returned to the hospital to stay with her husband. Leaving Jase, finally, alone in the house.

  He was exhausted to his bones, but he’d never be able to sleep. His mother didn’t approve of them, but his father kept some mild sleeping pills that he sometimes used the night before critical, complex negotiations.

  Jase downed two of them, opened his closet door, and fell into bed.

  It didn’t take long.

  The old woman, Otter Woman, stepped out of the closet smiling. Jase suddenly realized he’d never really hated anyone before. He’d thought he had, but this deep, cold desire to annihilate was something he’d never experienced.

  “I thought direct interference was against the rules,” he said.

  “Interference with you, yes. Using the power of the leys in your world, yes. But I’ve done nothing to you, and this”—she gestured to his bedroom, where leafy twigs were beginning to sprout from the furniture—“I don’t need to use any ley power here.”

  “Do you have any idea how much you’re hurting my family?” His voice shook with sheer rage.

  “You know, I didn’t expect you to figure it out this quickly. You’re fairly bright, for a human.”

  “It wasn’t hard,” said Jase. “Most thugs aren’t as smart as they think they are. What do you want?”

  “You k
now what I want, boy. Give me the pouch. Give me that accursed effective catalyst, and we’ll let your grandmother go.”

  “Go back to her body?” Jase could think of several different places a detached spirit might go, and he didn’t want his grandmother’s spirit being given a push in the wrong direction.

  “Go wherever she chooses,” said Otter Woman. “She’s trying to get back to her body now. Her failure appears to be . . . painful.”

  Horror swamped Jase’s anger. “You’re hurting her! You think you’re so superior to humans, but no human would—”

  Her laughter was rich and cruel. “No, you can’t say a human would never do that. And we’re just holding her here. It’s her own struggle that causes the pain. If she’d stop fighting, she’d stop hurting.”

  Gima would never stop fighting.

  “So if I give you the dust, you’ll let her go? Your word, enforced by Bear and the neutrals, that you’ll let her go if I hand over that pouch.”

  “Of course,” said Otter Woman. “You have my word. The catalyst is all we want.”

  “Done,” said Jase. “When and where do we meet?”

  When Jase woke the next morning, the first thing he did was dive into his closet and drag out the Hawaiian shirt he’d picked up two vacations ago and never worn since. A few snips of the scissors and ripping tugs reduced it to long rags.

  Jase padded out to the deck, ignoring the cold wood under his bare feet, and tied three bright strips to the balcony rail.

  If that didn’t make the contact me immediately message clear, well, he’d given her a chance.

  He called the hospital, in case he was wrong, but there was “no change” in Mrs. Mintok’s condition. He called his mother, hoping she had more information. The only thing that had changed since he’d left was that his grandfather—who’d driven a rental car all night—had returned, and the techs were analyzing his paints right now.

  She’d had to drag his father out of the building, and could Jase bring . . .

  Jase wrote down the items, paying so little attention she had to repeat herself twice.

  If his grandfather succeeded, he wouldn’t have to do this! But unless he succeeded quickly, Jase didn’t dare risk waiting too long.

  If he made this trade with Otter Woman, and his grandmother returned in the middle of his grandfather’s ritual, would that make his father more tolerant? No, he’d call it sheer coincidence. And Jase’s grandfather would be even less inclined to admit that the old ways weren’t always best.

  Carp. He’d worry about that when his grandmother was back.

  Jase was downing a quick-heat sandwich and pulling clothing out of his father’s dresser when he heard the knock, not from the front door, but on the glass door that opened to the deck.

  Raven wore the familiar stretchie and jeans—did she store them somewhere near his house? Today she hadn’t bothered with the flannel shirt, and her feet were bare.

  “I know what happened to your grandmother.” She started talking before the door was fully open. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t the only spirit walker in your family?”

  “I didn’t know. And don’t tell me I should have paid more attention to my heritage. Is she all right? Is she . . . is she hurting?”

  Are they hurting her?

  “She’s all right,” said Raven. “And as far as hurting . . . She’s frightened, she’s frustrated, and she’s a prisoner. She seemed pretty calm, all things considered. I wasn’t allowed to talk to her. I barely managed to see her! But she’s fine for now. How long can a human’s spirit survive, separated from its body? And how long can your bodies survive when they’re empty?”

  “I don’t know. With the body . . . they can keep people’s bodies running for a long time.”

  The thought of his grandmother lying still and silent for years, with tubes pumping life into her, made Jase flinch.

  “But Gima doesn’t need that. She’s breathing on her own. I think she’s even swallowing. Her body should be OK, as long as we get her back quickly.”

  He was looking right at her as he spoke, so he didn’t miss the moment Raven’s eyes flicked aside.

  “Damn it, you have to get her back! What about all those rules against interfering with me? What about Bear and the neutrals? What about your allies, Frog guy and Goose Woman?”

  “Frog People and Goose Woman can’t help with this. The problem is, what they’ve done isn’t against the rules,” said Raven. “Not quite. They haven’t simply killed you, or taken the pouch. They aren’t using ley power from this world—in fact, they’re not using any ley’s power. They are using a tool of this world, but that’s still within our original agreement. If I can use a human as my healer, they can use humans too. Though I’ll argue that this wasn’t the kind of use anyone had in mind when the agreement was made.”

  “So how long will it take you to get her free? One day? Two?”

  “There was a reason I asked how long her body and spirit could survive apart,” Raven admitted. “This is a delicate negotiation. It’s going to take time.”

  Jase’s dad worked on delicate negotiations, so he knew more about them than he wanted to.

  “What if we went out and healed the ley right now? They’d have no reason to hold her. Would they let her go? Or would they kill her?”

  Raven shook her head slowly. “Humans don’t usually mean much to them either way. But you’ve managed to annoy them sufficiently that I think they’re looking for revenge. Yes, if we just go out and heal the ley, they’ll kill her.”

  Another thing Jase knew from watching his father deal with delicate negotiations was that the reason they were so delicate was because you might lose.

  “Thanks for telling me the truth,” he said. “I know it would be easier to lie.”

  Raven grimaced. “I thought about it. But if we healed the sea, and then you got a call from your mother saying your grandmother had just died, would you go on and heal the air?”

  “I’d flush that dust down the nearest toilet,” Jase said. “I’d burn it. I’d do everything I could to make sure no one could use it, ever again.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Raven said. “In fact, in your shoes, that’s what I’d do. That’s why I’ll go back home, and talk and keep on talking till I convince the neutrals that with humans this is direct interference!”

  “Are you sure you can convince them?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes met his in that too-direct, too-steady look that practiced liars used. “I’ll get her freed. I promise. Because I know you won’t go on with the healing if I don’t.”

  She would try. He knew she’d try. But she shouldn’t have met his gaze just then, for in the depths of her dark eyes he saw despair.

  And she wasn’t the only one who could lie.

  “All right,” said Jase. “I’ll make sure they don’t do anything rash at the hospital. But get her back as quick as you can. I think my father and grandfather are about to start swinging.”

  ***

  He drove to the hospital and delivered his father’s clothes. His mother had persuaded her husband to go to the office, and take care of everything that needed to be dealt with so he could spend some time away.

  In his father’s absence, she and Jase helped Gramps with his rituals, bringing him a few things he still needed, like water fresh from a living stream. When there was nothing else they could do, they kept the nurses out of the room.

  His grandfather held on to a shaman’s calm, but Jase could see his fear, his grief, growing as the first ritual failed, and then the next.

  After several hours had passed, Jase slipped away and left them to it.

  His grandfather was doing everything he could, and it wasn’t working. Jase had one more thing to do before going to meet with Otter Woman.

  ***

  They’d agreed on Potter Marsh as a place both of them could locate. It was also, Jase thought, a place he might be able to see the football players coming—though he didn’t nee
d to. He was going to give them what they wanted.

  This should be easy.

  Clouds and sun fought for control of the sky, with a brisk wind assisting. It ruffled the water’s surface and forced the swallows into wild acrobatics. It also cut down on the tourists. Only a handful of people were out on the boardwalks today, huddled into their jackets and wishing they’d worn something warmer.

  Jase went to the end of the longest boardwalk and stood, ignoring the fact that his ears were freezing. She didn’t keep him waiting long.

  The old woman wore modern pants and boots, and a rain jacket that was too big for her, though it probably cut the wind. He’d thought she might bring the football players as bodyguards, though he was pretty sure Otter Woman was the boss. And she didn’t need bodyguards. Seeing his dream come to life, walking casually over the wooden planks in the daylight world, was almost as frightening as being chased by the Olmaat. At least the monster had the decency to stay in the nightmare world, where it belonged.

  The world in which his grandmother was trapped. Was she being stalked by the Olmaat now? At least no injuries had appeared on the body that lay in that hospital bed. Because she hadn’t “manifested” any of her physical being in the Spirit World? Or because they hadn’t started tormenting her yet?

  Jase had to make sure they never did.

  “You’ll let her go?” he demanded as Otter Woman approached. “She’ll wake up, and be all right?”

  “If you give me the catalyst I have no reason to keep her,” the old woman said. “Do you have it?”

  “That’s not a promise.”

  “I already promised. If you like, I’ll do it again. Do you have the medicine bag?”

  Jase had no way to enforce a promise, even if she repeated it. He pulled the pouch out of his pocket, the soft leather still warm from the heat of his body. Holding it out to her wasn’t easy—it felt worse than anything he’d ever done in his life.