by S. S. Segran
As his head cleared, he managed to catch part of the conversation between the men. “ . . . besides, you know how our client is. Once they’ve got what they want from these kids, they’ll be discarded quickly.”
“That’s not our problem,” rasped a deeper voice. “We get paid for delivery.”
Jag’s lethargy vanished at once. He tried to move his legs but could barely even lift his feet. While his mind was nearly functioning at full capacity, his physical self was still trying to catch up. He felt something to his right; presumably a body. He hoped it was one of the others.
A voice near him made him jump. “Hey, we got a wriggler here. What dosage did we use on them?”
One of the men whom Jag had heard earlier spoke up. “Enough to knock ’em out for a few hours. Even if they wake up, their hands are tied and they can’t see a thing. They’re a buncha kids, they’ll be too terrified to try anything.”
Wrong, Jag wanted to hiss, but instead told himself to calm down and think. He was sure now that there were two men at the front of the vehicle, with another somewhere in the back, closer to Jag. The van made a sharp turn and then straightened out onto a rough road, rattling the passengers and making a rumble in the cabin.
The three men got caught up in a conversation about a cohort who’d disappeared with money he’d borrowed from them. Over the noise inside the cabin they argued loudly on how to track him down and what they would do when they found him.
Seizing his chance, Jag whispered hopefully to the body on his right. “Tegan? Mariah?”
No sound.
“Kody?”
Still nothing.
“Aari?”
A groggy voice whispered back, “Jag?”
Relief flooded him. “Aari. You okay?”
He strained to hear his friend’s voice in the din. “Maybe. Feeling weak.”
“I know.”
“Shoot—we were nabbed.”
“Yeah. Need to figure out how to get out of here.”
“Are we . . . are we in the van?”
“Yeah.”
Jag strained to hear Aari murmur. “There’s something against my back. It hurts.”
“Your hands. They’re tied back.”
“No, it’s something hard. Feels like metal and—argh, it’s digging into my spine.”
The wheels in Jag’s head slowly started to turn as his body began to respond. He had a suspicion that if the two men at the wheel were to his right that would mean that the back of the van was, hopefully, to his other side. He stretched his left leg little by little until he felt his shoe hit something flat and solid.
Doors. He grinned to himself as a plan took shape in his mind. If they could force the abductors to stop the van, it just might give them a chance to rescue the others. “Try grabbing that metal thing under you,” he breathed to Aari.
“Why?”
Very quietly, Jag laid out his idea. In response, Aari told Jag that he was out of his mind but he would go along with it anyway.
Jag felt Aari’s shoulder butting into his as the other boy tried to grasp the object beneath him. “Got it.”
“Wait for my word.”
The vehicle stopped rattling as it made a turn onto a smoother road and accelerated, indicating that they were on a stretch of highway. Several minutes later, Jag felt the van slow down again. His weight shifted to one side and he realized they were turning onto an exit ramp. Here we go, he thought, preparing himself, then shouted, “Now!”
He quickly twisted around to position his feet toward the back doors. As he curled his legs toward his chest, he heard shouts as Aari lurched forward to stand up.
Jag uncoiled his legs and smashed the doors open. The sound of cars on the road and horns blaring filled the van. More shouts ensued, followed by a heavy clanking as Aari swung around and launched his prize—a wrench—toward the front of the vehicle. At least, Jag hoped it was the front of the vehicle. His answer came soon enough when he heard the windshield smash and felt the van swerve sharply as the driver wrestled for control.
“Damn!” someone bellowed. Horrified yells rang out before the vehicle leaned far over and crashed onto its side.
Jag was thrown brutally out of the open back doors. He hit the ground hard and tumbled a good distance. Two cries of pain, sounding as if they came several yards away from him, followed shortly after he rolled to a stop. He groaned as he turned over onto his stomach and pushed himself up to his knees. “Guys?”
“Oy!” Aari yelled. “That was the dumbest idea ever, you idiot! I won’t be surprised if I’ve cracked a rib!”
Following his friend’s voice, Jag unsteadily made his way over to Aari. “Where are you?”
“Jag? Aari? What happened?”
The feeble call came from Kody, who sounded like he was getting closer to the pair. The boys froze when they heard a screech of tires close by. A man shouted, “Hit the deck!” before the three were tackled to the ground. At that instant a volley of gunshots rang out.
The boys stayed down. Jag felt someone pull his blindfold off. When his eyes adjusted to the twilight, his gaze focused on the newcomer who was removing Aari’s and Kody’s blindfolds. His blood turned to ice and he scooted away, wrists still bound behind him. “You.”
The man glanced at him. When Aari and Kody at last got a chance to see who the stranger was, they stumbled on their knees toward Jag.
“You did follow us!” Aari snarled. “Mariah was right!”
Two more shots flew over them. They ducked, but kept their distance from the man. The man held his hands up where he lay on the grass. “Look, I’m not here to hurt you! You have to believe me!”
“You attacked us!”
Bullets hit the stranger’s red Mustang, which was positioned between them and the crashed van. “They’re shooting wide,” the man said. “They want the three of you alive.”
Jag ducked again, then a stinging realization hit him: The girls were not with them. He looked around frantically, then peeked past the side of the Mustang in time to see one kidnapper flagging down a car, then pulling a woman out of the dark blue vehicle. The other black-clad men were throwing two smaller bodies into the trunk.
Jag leapt up and ran toward them. “Tegan! Mariah!”
He couldn’t get close enough. Two strong arms wrapped around him and carried him back behind the red muscle car. “What are you doing?” Jag screamed.
The man held him down and shouted at Kody and Aari to remain on the ground.
Jag pulled away and pushed himself up in time to see the blue vehicle speeding off. The woman whose car had been hijacked lay still on the road. Jag hoped she hadn’t been shot.
Aari and Kody slowly went to stand beside Jag. They watched in subdued shock as the car grew smaller and smaller in the distance, taking with it the girls. Though the abductors’ bullets had completely missed them, two voids grew in the boys’ hearts, bleeding agony.
Jag, hands still tied behind him, rested against the Mustang. His voice, usually calm and even, was quiet and broken even to his ears. “We need to call the cops.”
“No.”
The boys slowly turned to glare at the tall stranger. “What do you mean?” Aari seethed. “Our friends have been taken. And you—you’ve been tailing us for days.”
“I have a good reason,” the man said quietly.
Kody bristled. “Who are you? What do you want?”
The man rolled his shoulders back. He raised his right fist over his heart and bowed his head. Then, he lifted his chin and his baby blue eyes bore through the trio’s. The boys stared back. That gesture—it felt like a memory inching its way out of the shadows.
“The reason you cannot go to the authorities,” the man said, “is because it is beyond their power. They are not equipped for the darkness that’s been cast. What was foretold in the prophecy can only be ended by those appointed by the prophecy. The five of you know that.”
Jag, Aari and Kody nearly collapsed to the ground. “You
’re a Sentry,” Kody gasped.
The man said nothing. He pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket and moved to cut the boys from their bindings. They rubbed their wrists, grateful to be free, but Jag was still antagonistic. “If you’re a Sentry, why didn’t you try to save Tegan and Mariah?” he demanded.
“There’s no time to explain right now. People must have already alerted the cops after witnessing your crazy stunt in the van.” The man inspected his car and groaned when he took in the bullet holes and one flat tire. “We need to get out of here. I’ll fill you in as we go, you have my word.”
When he saw the boys hesitating, he sighed impatiently. “I have someone following the girls, someone skilled and capable who will do everything possible to get your friends back. Just, please, we have to leave. Right now.”
The boys glanced at one another. Jag, tight-lipped, was the first to walk toward the car. He pointed at the busted tire. “You can’t drive on this!”
“We don’t have a choice. We’re going to go after your friends, but we need to get to a safe spot nearby first to replace the tire.”
Jag reluctantly got into the passenger seat as Aari and Kody piled into the back from the driver’s side. The man hopped behind the wheel and, as he started the engine, Jag looked over to where he’d last seen his friends being thrown into the trunk of the car.
We’ll find you, he promised silently.
PART TWO
17
Snowcapped peaks glowed with golden light as the sun began its slow ascent from behind the mountains. Sunrise occurred early during this time of the year in northern Canada, usually around four in the morning.
The mountains were adorned with a shawl of pine trees that thickened on the slopes toward a valley that lay snugly in between the rocky behemoths. Weaving through the length of the basin, a slim river divided the valley. To a casual observer in an aircraft flying over the valley, the landscape below would appear remote and uninhabited.
The valley, however, was home to a village that straddled both sides of the river. The secret sanctuary housed over seven hundred inhabitants, descendants of a hybrid community that had remained hidden from the rest of the world for centuries. All man-made structures were camouflaged to blend in with the surrounding foliage, and all access routes to the valley were well-protected by five mysterious and powerful creatures known as the Guardians.
The picturesque village was usually serene. But not today.
A group of villagers anxiously moved from one cluster of buildings to another, scouting the barn, stable, storehouse, and the temple while another group searched the greenhouse, community hall, school, and youth center.
On one of three wooden bridges that linked the north and south sides of the valley, a man in a long black-and-silver cloak—one of the five Elders of the village—directed the search; he was calm but his tone conveyed urgency. Most days, it would be impossible to tell that he was well into his late seventies. His blue eyes, an intriguing contrast to his brown skin, would shine brighter than a thousand suns. He was regal yet approachable, a shared trait that ran through the genes of the people of the valley. Lately, though, he’d started to notice deep lines carved around his eyes.
He quickly finished instructing the villagers he was speaking with and watched wearily as they sprinted away before turning to rest his elbows on the railing of the bridge. He stared at his reflection in the river’s beautiful emerald waters.
His ears, far sharper than any untrained listener’s, picked up the sound of hurried but delicate footsteps approaching well before the person arrived. He knew who it was without turning around—after all, he’d lived with and loved that woman for over forty years.
“Tikina,” he murmured.
“Is it true?” she spoke, hushed. “Hutar is . . . is gone?”
His shoulders slumped slightly. The woman, an Elder herself, let out a small breath. “Oh, Nageau.” She leaned against him, resting her head against his.
“There is no sign of him,” Nageau said grimly. “He would have fled before dawn.”
He heard another set of footsteps hurrying in their direction. He looked up and saw a youth of nineteen summers running toward them. He straightened, as did Tikina, as the youth slowed to a halt in front of them.
“What is it, Akol?” Nageau asked.
The youth wiped his brow and smoothed down his moose-hide shirt before answering, breathlessly, “Aesròn is gone as well, Grandfather.”
Though disappointed, Nageau had suspected as much. “I suppose it would make sense for Hutar to take his only trusted comrade with him.”
Akol pursed his lips, hand curling into a tight fist around the staff he held. “They must have been planning this for some time.” He turned away so his grandparents could only see the side of his face. “By no means do I intend to be disrespectful, but . . . why did you not consider my words, Grandfather?” He was clearly doing all he could to keep his emotions in check. “They were trouble if put together and yet they were still allowed to interact. Hutar was not going to change, that was clear to see after only a few sessions.”
Nageau looked up at the sky for a while, then slid his hand under Akol’s chin and gently turned the youth’s face toward himself. “You were right, Akol. Your intuition about Hutar is something I should have taken note of. I am sorry.” The Elder slowly lowered his hand. “I had only hoped that the boy would change, that he would be rehabilitated and become as responsible and, above all, as nurturing as his father was.”
“He is no longer a boy,” Akol said quietly, dark eyes boring into the Nageau’s.
Nageau tilted his head. “Neither, it seems, are you.”
Akol flushed. “Would you have me lead a patrol outside the valley to search for the escapees?”
“I would. Thank you, Akol.”
Dipping his head at the Elders, Akol left them at a brisk pace to gather a few villagers. Nageau returned his attention to his reflection in the river. “I would appreciate it if you could search the forest yourself,” he told Tikina softly. “Create a mind-link with one of the animals. Perhaps the lynx, Tyse.”
“Of course. She cannot travel as far and as swiftly as Akira, though.”
“Akira? That old eagle is still around?”
“Yes. She has just decided to make herself scarce since the siege at Ayen’et.” Tikina rested against the wooden railing and took a proper look at Nageau. “Are you alright, my love? Has news changed regarding the boys and the Sentry?”
Nageau smiled only slightly. There was never a time when his mate could not see through him. “Nothing has changed. He is telling Jag, Kody and Aari as much as he is permitted even as we speak. The other Sentry is still following the girls. But . . . how did I not see this coming?”
Tikina looked puzzled. “No one could have, Nageau. But the one consolation we have lies in the Sentries. We know they will not let us down.”
Nageau remained gloomy. Tikina prodded, “There is something else that is bothering you.”
He turned around, cloak sweeping, and strode off the bridge toward the south side of the village. Tikina kept pace with him.
“I do not expect the five to take kindly to the knowledge that we had suppressed their memories,” he said, “especially considering that the memories concerned are very delicate and an important part of their lives.”
“They will understand the necessity of our actions, Nageau, I am sure of it. It may take some time, but they will recognize that we did what was needed to protect them. They are too important to be exposed when the time was not yet right.” Tikina lightly squeezed his forearm.
Nageau glanced at her, meeting her tender green-eyed gaze. “And still they were abducted.”
“But you know that the Sentries will do all they can to get Tegan and Mariah back,” Tikina reminded him.
Nageau massaged one of his hands with the other before murmuring, “I do wonder if . . . ”
“If?”
“If this has somet
hing to do with . . . the expulsion.”
Tikina stopped in her tracks and folded her arms. “You are still dwelling on it, Nageau. I have been trying to tell you, the past must remain in the past.”
“And yet it seems that it may have clawed its way into the present. Not a day has gone by that I don’t question my actions all those years ago; question if the decision that was made was the right one. It is difficult, knowing . . . ” Nageau trailed off with a sigh and pulled out a silver coin from inside the folds of his cloak. Engraved into the center was a symbol that vaguely resembled the letter Z with a short horizontal line crossing midway.
He stared at it for a few moments, throat constricting. “It is difficult,” he repeated, “knowing that the prophecy may be unfolding through a decision that was made in this very place.”
Tikina took the coin from him and slipped it into one of her moccasin boots. “We cannot know that for certain. A coin like this could mean anything. That . . . that individual’s presence, have you felt it at any time?”
“No. I have been trying for the better part of the last two decades but I am unable to sense it. I did in the beginning, right after the event, but there has been nothing since.”
“It seems likely, then, that this person is . . . ” Tikina slowed down, choosing her words carefully. “ . . . no longer in existence. From what we know, the five were subjected to all kinds of scrutiny when they returned to their homes. Their abduction could be the work of some devious minds from the world outside.”
Nageau was unconvinced. “Possible, I suppose.” He turned to gently push back his mate’s chestnut hair. Tikina smiled comfortingly at him. He said nothing more, but he needn’t have. Their relationship was one where words were seldom necessary to express their true and deepest thoughts.
As they made their way through the trees toward the western end of the valley where the temple was located, Nageau hoped the five would forgive the Elders for their actions and understand why they had to do what they did.
18
