Wanderers 3: Garden of The Gods (The Wanderers)

by Richard Bamberg

  “I’m glad he thinks so highly of me,” I said with more than a little sarcasm.

  “He said ‘hordes?’” Tess asked.

  I glanced at her and saw that she was frowning.

  “That was the description. Sounds bad, right?” Joe replied.

  “The only hordes I’ve ever read about were the Mongol hordes. Back in the day, they overran most of the known world,” Tess said.

  Joe nodded. “Yep, that sounds about right. Of course, there’s also hordes of locusts if your bible is to be believed.”

  “I don’t think that’s in doubt. They’ve had hordes of locusts in many parts of the world just in my lifetime,” I said, just to get in on the conversation. I wasn’t really concerned about hordes of locusts but didn’t like the idea of a horde of creatures entering our world any more than Tess did.

  “You make light of the problem?” Joe asked staring at me.

  I shook my head. “Not light, but there’s no point in wringing my hands and crying over things that might happen.”

  “Might?” Joe said. “The great bear spirit has never spoken falsely.”

  “Oh? And did he say who this help was? I don’t want to sound picky, but if I’m supposed to have help, it’d be nice to know who to ask,” I said.

  Joe shook his head. “He wasn’t specific. I’ll do what I can, but I’m no longer in my youth. I know a few tricks, but we shamans don’t usually participate in battles with demon hordes. We’re more like healers and prognosticators.”

  “Demon hordes? Prognosticators?” Tess asked.

  “Basically anything that isn’t natural in our world can be referred to as demons. I haven’t seen many demons myself, but Rafe has described some of them.”

  “Yeah, he’s shown me something called a shade that would fit my definition of demons. One killed someone I liked just recently.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that young apprentice. From everything Rafe has told me, a Wanderer’s life is not an easy one.”

  I avoided rolling my eyes.

  Tess nodded. “I got that part figured out. What about you being a prognosticator? What’s that about?”

  Joe smiled and winked at her. “That means we give people vague glimpses of what might be and then claim credit for being right, no matter what happens.”

  Tess stared at him for a moment and then a smile creased her face.

  “Joe used to make a living as a fortune teller at carnivals,” I commented.

  “That was in my youth. I haven’t told anyone’s fortune in decades. Too much record keeping by the government these days. They will notice if someone is too accurate.”

  “Too accurate?” Tess said. “I would think that would be a good thing, at least they’d know you’re not a charlatan.”

  Joe shook his head.

  “What Joe isn’t saying,” I explained. “Is that the government would have a use for a fortune teller who was too accurate. True magic users, be they like we are or just carnival psychics don’t want the government’s attention. Governments would want to control our magic. Walt warned me about it. He gave several examples from the Communist Scare days of McCarthyism of clairvoyants being drafted into the army and not in the good way. Others learned to keep away from any overt displays of talent in front of the wrong people.”

  “Sheesh, but that couldn’t happen today, could it?” Tess asked.

  I glanced at Joe who studied his bottle and remained silent. I turned back to Tess and shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “That’s wrong on multiple levels,” Tess growled.

  “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one,” Joe said with heavy solemnity.

  “Did you just quote Spock?” Tess asked.

  “I may be old, but I do go to movies. Leonard Nimoy’s performance as Spock was profound,” Joe replied.

  I grinned, and Tess just sat there with her mouth open.

  I gave her a few seconds to let Joe’s acquaintance with Star Trek sink in and then switched topics before she could ask him about Star Wars. “So, Joe, did your spirit totem happen to mention what this help was that I’d need to close the gates?”

  Joe set his beer down and looked directly at Tess.

  After a second, her eyes widened. “No way. You can’t be serious. I’m a newbie. I can’t be much help in this.”

  “She’s right, Joe. Tess is learning, but she hasn’t learned nearly enough to help in a pitched battle with Rowle and his allies. Your spirit totem must have meant someone else.”

  Joe shifted his gaze to me. We studied each other for a minute. At last, Joe said, “I will do what I can, but I’m an old man and don’t have the stamina of a young warrior. Does not your Fate plan to help?”

  “I’ve told you how Verðandi is. She doesn’t really stoop to actually fixing. That’s the job of the Wanderers,” I said.

  “Then have her summon the other Wanderers. If there was ever a time for you to gather to fight a common foe, this is it,” Joe said.

  Tess coughed loudly to cover whatever outburst she’d been about to make. Joe watched her until she had composed herself again and then looked back at me. “Did I say something amusing?”

  “You’re looking at all of the Wanderers, Joe.”

  Joe’s eyes widened. “How can this be? You told me there were two handfuls of Wanderers at any given time. What happened?”

  “Rowle happened. Apparently, he made the rounds and looked up all of my compatriots. A couple of weeks back, he tried to take a spell that would open all of the gates and bring about Ragnarök. I managed to stop him, with help from a local coven, but in the aftermath, Verðandi informed me that I was it, the last Wanderer. Rowle killed the others. That’s the main reason I have Tess. We either stop Rowle or the Wanderers will cease to exist.”

  Joe stroked his hairless chin with thumb and forefinger from his left hand and gave my words full consideration before speaking. “Well, that puts everything in a different light. When the Great Bear Spirit came to visit me, I had assumed you would be able to call up the other Wanderers to assist in this battle.”

  “Well, you know what they say about making an assumption,” Tess said.

  I gave her a disapproving glare. This was no time to insult someone as old and important as Joe Leatherneck.

  “That you make an ass out of you and umption?” Joe asked with a sly smile.

  “Damn straight. Sam Jackson is the man,” Tess said.

  “What in hell are you talking about?” I queried.

  “It’s a quote from another movie, ‘Long Kiss Goodnight.’ One of Jackson’s favorite roles,” Joe said.

  I rolled my eyes, lowered my head, and contemplated the grain of the wooden boards between my boots.

  “Damn, Joe, you are awesome. I didn’t think anyone your age would appreciate Sam Jackson.”

  “How does the saying go…just because there’s snow on the roof, doesn’t mean there’s not fire in the hearth?” Joe asked.

  “Close enough,” Tess laughed.

  I got up and walked to one of the front windows while my apprentice and old best friend discussed the merits of some of Jackson’s movie roles.

  The long shadow of Pikes Peak was stretching out across the city. Sunset occurred in stages when there were mountains to the west. Although Joe’s cabin had seen the sun go down an hour or more ago, the east side of town looked to have another twenty minutes or more of bright sun before twilight began.

  The Springs had been my home for the first seventeen years of my life. I’d entered the Army shortly after graduation from high school, before I turned eighteen, and had a year to get used to the uniform and to get trained before I was shipped off to Vietnam as a ground radio operator. The draftees that had shipped with me had been in the Army less than three months. Back then, when the U.S. of A. still had a draft, young men would have to serve two years in the Army if they were drafted, volunteers signed up for four. But volunteers were considered too valuable to send in
to the jungles of Southeast Asia without extra training.

  It still seemed strange to me that volunteering for the Army was why I became a Wanderer. Maybe we are predestined to do some things in our life. Verðandi has always been a little vague about predestination. She can see how things are going to happen, at least among humans, and she can tell when someone is doomed to die if they take a right turn rather than a left, but she’s never explained whether the person has no alternative than to take the right. I think she’s just avoiding the issue and I don’t know why. It’s not like being predestined to choose the one thing in your life that will change everything is something you could do anything about unless someone told you which one of those turns would make the difference. Most of us humans–yes, I still consider myself a human–live our lives without knowing whether we have any choice or not. Even I, with my intimate knowledge of Fate, have no idea what will happen if I make a choice.

  I watched the shadow move past Powers Boulevard and thought of my decision to get off the Interstate in New Braunfels, Texas, two weeks ago. That decision led to the death of one of the very few women I had ever loved. If I had just gone on to San Marcos or Austin before finding a motel, Laura would still be alive. She’d still think I was the lover that she’d sent away before learning that she was pregnant with our son, Alex, but she’d still be happily alive.

  Verðandi could have told me what would happen if I took that exit and ran into Laura, but she didn’t. At least I think she could have. It grated on my thoughts that the Fate I served could have saved the life of someone I loved so much, but didn’t. I tried to tell myself that if I thought Verðandi had known, I would have walked away, turned my back on Verðandi and the Wanderers, and maybe even joined Rowle in bringing about Ragnarök. I’d thought about it many times since I’d been forced to put my blade through Laura’s chest. Would I have? Perhaps, but only if I could be sure that Verðandi had let Laura die. Otherwise, I still had an obligation to Tess. She was my Apprentice, a future Wanderer in training.

  I realized their voices had gone quiet. I wiped my eyes with the back of my leather sleeves and took a moment before turning around.

  Tess and Joe were sitting still, quietly watching me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You are troubled,” Joe stated flatly.

  “Yeah, so what?” I asked with an edge to my voice that Joe didn’t deserve.

  Joe gave me a sad smile. “I’ve never seen you troubled, old friend. Is there anything I can do?”

  I took a deep breath and sighed. I shook my head. “No, Joe, I appreciate your concern, but it’s all in the past. There’s nothing to be done for it.”

  Joe stood and walked to me. The old shaman’s face was heavily wrinkled and tanned even darker than a normal Ute would be. He placed both his hands on my shoulders. “I am sorry for your loss, Rafe.”

  I stared into his brown eyes for a few seconds and then looked past him at my Apprentice. “You told him?”

  Tess shrugged. “He wondered why you were moody. I just told him you’d lost someone you loved.”

  “You should share your sorrow with your friends. It will lessen your burden,” Joe said.

  I met his gaze and frowned. “That’s not my way, Joe. I lost someone, and yes it hurts, but I’ve lost people before, and I’ll deal with it on my own, just like the other times.”

  Joe dropped his hands from my shoulders and studied my face for a long moment. “That is your right, old friend. A man doesn’t have to share his grief, even with those closest to him. However, if you change your mind, we are both here to talk.”

  “I appreciate the gesture,” I said.

  Joe watched me for another second and then gave a brief nod of his head. “Come; tell me more about Rowle and what you’ve been up to since I last saw you.”

  We talked long into the evening of events both amusing and deadly until I noticed Joe’s attention beginning to waver. I complained of being tired to give the old shaman a chance to turn in without him having to admit that he was tired.

  While Joe used the only bathroom to prepare for bed, Tess and I went outside. The night-lights of Colorado Springs glittered across the foothills and wide plains beneath us. The night was brisk, already below freezing at this altitude, and our breath fogged in the air.

  “It’s an even lovelier view at night,” Tess said.

  I grunted an acknowledgment.

  We walked down to where Beast and Maia stood beside Joe’s old pickup.

  “We can set them free for the night, can’t we?” Tess asked.

  “Certainly, we probably should have done so earlier. Beast, wake up. You’re free for the remainder of the night. Be back by sun up,” I said.

  As Beast began to shift forms, Tess said, “Maia, you’re free too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Beast, keep an eye on Maia until she’s familiar with the rules,” I said.

  “Rules?” Tess asked.

  “Always with rules,” Beast growled. “You don’t have any rules, why must we?”

  “Because I’m the Wanderer and you’re the familiar. Now don’t start an argument about something that we settled forty years ago.”

  Beast growled something unintelligent and shook himself as he assumed his true form. His great black mane fanned the cool night air before he unfurrowed his bat wings and beat the air as he leapt into the sky. A moment later, Maia’s own feathery wings beat the air as she leapt after him.

  We watched them climb into the sky until they disappeared over the top of Cheyenne Mountain.

  “They are so cool,” Tess said. “That’s one of the coolest things about being a Wanderer.”

  “Really? All the power and magic, living an incredibly long, youthful life, full of adventure and danger and you think the familiars are the cool part.”

  “One of the cool parts. I said one of the cool parts.”

  I chuckled. I may still have the hormones of a man in his early twenties, but my youthful enthusiasm died away decades ago. I had to admit it; I enjoyed seeing Tess’s unbridled joy at everything we did. For a moment, I forgot about Laura and Alex, Rowle and Ragnarök and it was just Tess and me beneath a starry sky, high above a glittering city.

  “How are you really doing, Rafe?” Tess asked.

  And then the memories came rushing back.

  I shrugged, knowing that she wouldn’t notice the shrug in the dim light. “I’ll be all right. I’ve lost people before, and I’ll lose people again. It’s another reason Wanderers don’t have many friends. People dear to us come into danger just by being around us. It’s better to keep moving, never getting too attached, never allowing anyone close.”

  “Like you did with Laura.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. I allowed her closer to me more than anyone, and it got her killed. Hopefully, it won’t take the loss of a loved one for you to learn that lesson.”

  Tess was silent for a moment, but then she came close enough to take my hand. Her smaller hand was warm in mine, and as soon as we touched, I felt her emotions just as I knew she could feel mine. Surprisingly, she wasn’t pitying me; rather she was empathizing with me, understanding my loss, and sharing in my grief.

  “It’s okay, Raphael. You have me now. We’ll get through this together, no matter what Rowle throws at us.”

  It would have been nice to relax and enjoy her certainty. I knew more of what Rowle was capable of than she. But I also didn’t need to worry her any more than necessary. It wouldn’t help us to defeat him.

  Instead, I pulled her into me and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight as her own arms encircled me and joined in the embrace. We stood that way for several minutes, our emotions merging, and it did make me feel better. So much better.

  Eventually, I felt her grip slackening. I eased my own grip. Her hands went around my head and she pulled my face down to hers. She kissed me, softly at first, but then with passion.

  Breaking off the kiss, Tess said, “Is Joe a heavy sleep
er?”

  “If he’s snoring, it would take an earthquake to wake him.”

  “Then let’s hope he’s snoring,” Tess said. Turning toward the cabin, she pulled me along behind her.

  Chapter 14

  THERESE

  I awoke to the sound of male voices. Rafe’s side of the bed was empty. I stretched and then gripped Rafe’s pillow with my left hand. I pulled it to me and buried my face in it. It smelled of Raphael, a woody aroma of a male in his prime. Sure there were more subtle aromas in there and smelling them made me smile. In the two weeks I’d known him, I’d grown closer to Rafe than any man, ever. I wouldn’t call it love. God, no! Falling in love with Rafe would be catastrophic. He was my mentor, and I was his apprentice. From everything he’d told me so far, I knew we’d be together for a couple of decades. Eventually, assuming we both lived long enough, I’d be trained well enough that I could go out on my own, fight my own battles, alone, and eventually find my own apprentice. Falling in love with a man who was guaranteed to eventually leave me would be foolish. I mean, sure, a lot of people fall into and out of love. Witness the divorce rate, but when they married, none of them knew they would have to part ways, even if it was twenty or so years further down that road.

  None of that kept me from enjoying Rafe in the here and now. Our sexual escapades were better than anything I could have imagined with my limited experience. Even the few times I’d had sex with Alex hadn’t compared to the skill Rafe brought to a bout. Of course, I hadn’t told either of my two men about the other’s abilities. I hadn’t been raised to be a slut, and I didn’t consider myself one in any way. I had enjoyed Alex in the limited time we’d had together. It wasn’t like I knew he was Rafe’s son when I dragged him into bed, not that knowing would have stopped me.

  I mean, for crying out loud, two weeks ago I was laid up after losing most of my right leg and my left hand in the explosion that killed three of my squad mates. Rafe gave me a reprieve from prosthetics. He gave me a mission in life. He gave me the world again. And I was going to live my second chance as if it was just that, a second chance at life.