by Jan McDonald
Jo’s walnut features creased into even more wrinkles as he smiled at Jude, “Jo” he said, “Call me Jo.”
“Well, Jo, I will do whatever you say. What about the other ceremony? Is it how it sounds, a Blessing?”
Jo nodded. “They are chants more than ceremonies, forming part of a larger picture. The Blessing Way chant forms the core of our beliefs and performed after the healing of the Enemy Way chant will bless your soul and prepare it to continue its earthly journey with the protection of the Holy People. Together they restore Hozho or balance to you. That is enough for now. You should rest. I can sense in you a strong cycle of transformation now it has begun. I can’t say how long before you transform again. You must have nothing to eat before we begin but you must drink water freely.” He looked at Lane, “Spring water is best, as it is free of contamination.” Lane nodded.
“There are preparations to make before we can begin, and you should all know that the chants can take many days and nights before they are complete. First we have to construct the Hogan. The chants must be only be sung in the Hogan. On the way here I talked of this to Darius and he made the necessary calls to order what we need. He is very resourceful. He told me the materials will be delivered to your home within the hour.”
“What can we do?” asked Beckett.
Jo smiled, “You can build the Hogan. I understand you have great strength and speed. This is good. This will ensure the Hogan is built in good time. But you must heed my directions.”
The door opened then and Sabine strode towards Jude.
Jo twinkled at her, “This is the one who prays constantly for your soul,” he said to Jude. “It is well with the Holy People that these prayers come from the heart.” He turned to her, “And you have a good heart Sabine. Your people have great spiritual courage and it may be that you will need it. You will play a major part in the healing of this man.”
Sabine stood in front of Jude. “I saw you in the woods. I wanted to speak to you but you ran.”
He nodded. “I remember. I didn’t want to hurt you. There was something in your eyes … I don’t know.”
“My brother was like you. He died and I did nothing to prevent it. I won’t make that mistake again. If you will allow it, I want to stay with you through this.”
Jude looked grim. “It isn’t going to be pretty.”
“I know,” she said, “I have already seen.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE HOGAN
Outside in the hallway, Jo put his hand on Beckett’s arm. “Lane speaks very highly of you, Father.”
Beckett was immediately irritated. “It’s just Beckett, Jo. Just Beckett.”
Jo raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. “Great Spirit is still strong in you. You may have built the wall, but he waits behind it. Maybe this journey with the Holy People will help you take it down, my friend.”
Beckett felt cold, “Well, when Great Spirit stands in front of me and tells me why he didn’t answer my prayers for my sister when I’d given my life to him, and tells me why he allowed what I am become, then maybe we’ll have something to say to each other. Until then, it’s just Beckett, Jo.”
Beckett turned abruptly and returned to Jude.
“We’re going back to the Cedars. So, if you’re ready for this we need to get going. Apparently there’s something to build.” His voice was steady but he knew his words were frosty.
Sabine frowned at him. “We’re ready. Just say the word.”
Jude nodded at him. “I need to know that if something goes wrong there’s some way of … containing me … this thing in me.”
Beckett tried to make amends for his attitude. “I’m sure that we can handle it. I believe in Jo Timberwolf and Lane, so I believe they can help you. I’ll do whatever it takes, that’s a promise.”
Jude held out a hand to him. “Thanks, Beckett. I trust you, man.”
“Jude has agreed for me to go with you, to be part of whatever happens,” said Sabine.
“Let’s go then. You two can come with me and Jo will go with Lane. Darius will make his own way. I’ll be honest with you Jude. I have no idea what will happen, this is all new to me too, but whatever happens, I’ll keep my promise to you.” He looked at Jude directly and the meaning was understood.
“That is not an option,” snapped Sabine, on track with their unspoken agreement.
Beckett shrugged and led the way out of The Sanctuary to his old Jeep and as Sabine tried to climb in beside Jude he put a restraining hand on her arm. “Just humour me; I want you to sit in the front.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
“Well maybe you should be”, he replied tersely.
The drive to The Cedars was tense and nobody spoke. In contrast to Lane and Jo who were both relaxed and chatting constantly; old friends catching up rather than two people about to embark on a deadly endeavour. As they neared Lane’s home the mood became more serious.
“Your friend is troubled,” said Jo.
“He’s having trouble with what he’s become. Mainly because I gave him false hope that it could be cured. Now it looks as though that’s not possible.”
“No. I think it’s something different. His soul has accepted his new form. I believe he has another journey ahead of him.”
Lane understood his meaning. “Good luck with that Jo. He shut his God out of his life ten years ago and the wall he built is added to daily brick by brick. It’s going to take C4 to pull the bloody thing down.”
Jo chuckled and let the subject drop.
As they pulled into the drive of Lane’s place, a lorry was already unloading the materials to build the Hogan. Darius had done well. Lane made a mental note to tell him so.
Jo was instantly out of the car and inspecting the building materials and Lane was pleased to see that he seemed happy with everything. Beckett appeared from the house and strode purposefully towards them. “Is there some sort of plan to follow?” he asked.
“The Dine were taught by The Holy People how to construct the first Hogan for the purpose of the Blessing Way. It has five sides and built around a forked pole and another main straight pole resting on its fork, representing first man and first woman. Once all the secondary poles are in place the whole thing is covered in mud or wood. We don’t have time for mud to dry and so my young friend has obtained enough timber to clad the outside. The entrance must face east to catch the first rays of the dawn and those two stone slabs are buried to support the opening to the structure.”
Lane and Beckett moved with their vampire speed and strength and in just over an hour, the Hogan stood complete. Jo shook his head.
“Fastest time I’ve seen a Hogan built. Now I must bless the structure and invite the Holy People to come. The four oak boughs over there will be placed in the four directions to let the Holy People know that a ceremony is about to take place. No rushing that. You can stay if you wish, or you can go prepare the man for what is to come. He needs to take a bath in clear water; no soap and he can drink water. And from now on until the end of the ceremonies no-one but me should touch him.”
“I’m on it,” said Beckett disappearing into the house.
“I’d like to watch, if that’s okay?” said Lane.
Jo nodded his agreement and returned to Lane’s car to retrieve his bag fashioned from a Navajo blanket. On his return he tied his old bandana around his forehead and began to chant as he took a bag of white corn meal from his pocket. This he used to anoint the timbers. “White corn meal if the one to be sung over is male,” he said, “Yellow corn meal for a female.”
Eventually the chanting and prayers were done and Jo took the rest of the contents of his bag inside the Hogan. Lane watched as he unpacked his rattle and several Hessian bags. He saw Lane’s quizzical look. “For the sandpaintings in Blessing Way. Now I must place the oak boughs to tell the Holy People what we are about to do.”
“How much does he need to participate, Jo? I mean, what if …?”
“What if he begins trans
formation? I was going to talk to you about that. I think maybe if we can keep him subdued it would be advantageous.”
“How subdued?”
“I have the necessary herbs with me, though Peyote will not be used on this man, the visions may induce the transformation.”
Jo’s preparations were lengthy and intense and he finally said, “So shall we begin?”
They walked to the house together in time to meet Beckett in the hallway.
“Where the hell is Darius? He said he was following us. There’s no answer from his cell phone or Angel. Where the bloody hell is everyone?”
His feathers were well and truly ruffled and there were heavy creases around his eyes. Beckett was clearly agitated.
“What’s up, Handsome?”
“Oh, nothing much. We’ve got a werewolf in the consulting room, a Hogan in the garden for a ceremony that I have no idea about, and Darius is missing. Nothing’s up.”
“And?”
“And I’m hungry.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE ENEMY WAY
Jo had lit a fire in the centre of the Hogan and its sacred smoke drifted from the central hole in the roof structure as he prepared a juniper branch as a sacred staff, adorning it with coloured threads and eagle feathers during which time he had asked for Sabine to pray for Jude’s healing.
“It is time,” he said. “The Holy People are present and are looking favourably on this man. I must ask you to be his friends and act as his family to witness the healing.”
“Does that mean that we can’t leave once you’ve begun?” asked Beckett. Lane knew what he was thinking. He needed to feed and unless he did so within a short timeframe the consequences were unpredictable for him. Jo understood without explanation. He shook his head. “As long as one of you remains, the others may come and go.”
“I need to find Angel,” he said quietly to Lane. She nodded her understanding. “Be safe, Handsome, and don’t be long.” She allowed her eyes to linger on his face longer than intended and abruptly turned back to Jo.
Jo began the ancient songs and chanting. Jude had swallowed the herbal medicine willingly and now slept naked on the dirt floor covered with pine branches and flower heads. He tossed fitfully as the chants drew the Holy People to him.
He was aware that he was out of his body and was surrounded by darkness. One by one his ancestors came to him, each with a blessing but not one of them spoke to him. Until a shadowy figure approached him and he was able to ‘see’ the figure of his grandfather Makani, whose name meant ‘the wind’. He looked as he had in life when Jude had last seen him at his home on the Hawaiian island of Kauai, an older version of Jude himself. He bent over him and placed a Lei around his neck. “For protection Grandson,” he said, “And for Blessing. The Goddess Pel protect you and guide you on your journey.” He then sprinkled some of the red earth of the island onto his chest. “So you will always find your way home,” he said.
Jude was still in darkness but he could see the rough terrain of the White Mountains again, and as if by thought alone he found himself in the entrance to the cave complex in Tora Bora.
The tunnel was in darkness but he could see as though it were daylight. Images flashed by him, images of wolves and men, then men wearing the skins of wolves. They were performing a ritual that had no meaning for him but the darkness that surrounded them made him fearful. One by one the skin wearing men began transforming into wolves. They were down on all fours and the wolf skins now covered their entire body. In the distance the darkness became denser, heavy and almost solid. From out of it rushed a legion of demons and one by one they possessed the bodies of the men. Their fate was sealed and they were doomed to walk the earth as Loup Garoux – the werewolves.
Jude was sweating profusely and Jo bathed his body with tepid water. Lane put an arm around Sabine as she became restless, wanting to go to him but knowing she must not. Jo continued with the sacred songs and Jude’s restlessness intensified.
“What’s happening to him?” she asked Jo.
“He is with The Holy People. They are showing him the darkness that has attached itself to his soul. Soon he will come face to face with Wolf and they will do battle with the evil. If The Holy Ones will it they will help him to survive.”
“And if not?”
“Then we must pray that we can find a more earthly solution for him. I have not yet found such a solution.”
“When will you know?”
Maybe tomorrow around dawn, maybe another day or even two. Only the Holy People know. When he has rested after the Enemy Way he will need to stay strong for Blessing Way which will take three days and nights.”
Lane looked concerned and Jo understood her worries. “He will wake from time to time and I will give him water and bathe his body. He will be fine.”
She relaxed as Jo began another cycle of chanting over Jude. After half an hour he stopped and took out a woven Navajo shawl from his voluminous blanket bag and gently put it around Sabine’s shoulders. “The Ancient Ones have asked me to give this to you.”
Sabine drew the shawl around her looking for comfort and finding it. Lane took the opportunity to leave and try and contact Beckett. She dialled his cell phone and it went straight to voice mail and so she dialled the main number at the Sanctuary. It was picked up by one of the volunteers. No, Beckett wasn’t there. Neither was Darius nor Angel. Seriously worried she dialled Darius’s number and when that went unanswered she tried Angel with the same result. Where in God’s name were they? She hoped with everything she had that Beckett had found Angel before the hunger got too much.
A low howl came from the Hogan and she hurried back inside in time to see Jude crouching on all fours with a snarl on his lips. She went for her back pocket ready to pull out her small pistol but Jo raised his hand. “We are in no danger, he doesn’t see us. He is with the Wolf spirit and now they will battle the evil one. We must not interfere. Whatever happens now will depend on the strength of his spirit. Wolf is strong in him and he may choose to allow him to do battle alone, but then Wolf will be dominant in him and we may lose him.”
Sabine was sobbing quietly and had retreated under the shawl. It was getting dark and although the fire still burned in the Hogan, fed by Jo with branches and logs from the far corner, a chill had settled over them. Jo picked up his rattle and began circling the interior. His eyes were glazed and he looked suddenly ancient.
Lane knew better than to speak to him but tried to read him instead. He was deep in contact with the other world and seemed to trying to drag something away from Jude. In a moment she saw the face of the demon that had attached itself to him, turning him into Skinwalker. There was no light in its eyes, only inky blackness in the void and the intense cold that emanated from it, accompanied by the stench of a charnel house, made her recoil. Jo remained steadfast; a battle of wills between him protected by his Holy People and The Ancient Ones, and the demon protected by a host of nameless evil and the hierarchy of hell. Lane drew in her breath, for once not knowing what to do. The wrong move could finish it for Jude in an instant.
The atmosphere in the Hogan grew heavy and the chill seemed to settle over Jude. Two things happened simultaneously. Jude threw back his head and howled the torment of his soul into the falling night and Jo collapsed onto the floor in front of him.
Lane was on her feet in an instant and Sabine was right behind her. Jo regained consciousness in the next moment and Jude, covered in sweat and flecks of foam at his mouth, fell like a stone.
Jo jumped to his feet, aided by Lane and was leaning over Jude before Sabine had fully comprehended what had occurred.
“He is breathing more easily now. The first part of Enemy Way has removed the evil one from him. Now it is just him and Wolf. He will rest now for many hours, safe with the Holy People. Now we can eat and drink. No alcohol. I will smoke the pipe with The Ancient Ones. Perhaps you should take this opportunity to refresh yourself child,” he said to Sabine.
It had been a long
day in cramped surroundings and whilst it had little effect on Lane, Sabine was in need of air and a visit to the bathroom.
“I’ll be right back,” she said hoarsely.
“I’ll get some food and drink for you”, said Lane. “Shall I bring it here?”
Jo nodded at her but his eyes were closed as he prayed over Jude.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: GENETICS
Beckett’s phone rang seconds after he had anticipated the call. The screen told him it was Helena Bancroft and as he was about to enter the Sanctuary he simply walked to the other end of the block and swiped his entry card to her lab.
She looked up as he entered and immediately left her work to greet him.
“I just called you,” she said. She appeared excited, even though Beckett had realised early that such signs of emotion were rare in her.
“I know. I was right outside. Thought I’d swing by and see you in person. I’m not great on phones. What’s up? Last time you called me it was bad news.”
“It’s not good news. Well, not exactly. I’ve been approaching this from a different angle. One I’m more familiar with. This vampire thing is genetic as I suspected. Somehow your actual DNA has mutated and is still mutating. I have been trying to ‘turn off’ the vampire genes, it’s called epi-genetics and we refer to it as gene silencing. The research has been done mainly in cancer therapies but it can apply to any disease that is gene based. It’s in it’s infancy but I think it may be the way to cure the vampirism. But it’s gone too far in you, Beckett. I’m so sorry. I really am, but if I try and switch those genes off in you, I’m afraid it could be fatal. The mutation is too severe and now there are more vampire cells than human. It does mean though that if I can manage to isolate the ‘mother’ gene, the original vampire gene soon after it has entered the DNA then it may work, which means that newly infected or turned vampires should respond to the treatment. We’ve been working on this for several diseases with varying success for a few years now. I may have a handle on this, although it’s early days.”
