Shaman, Healer, Heretic (Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman)

by Green, M. Terry

  Wan-li let her go and tilted her head toward the ground. The other shamans parted and Livvy saw Joel lying there, tied up with duct tape.

  “What?” said Livvy. “What’s going on?”

  The sudden burst of happiness was dimming.

  “Joel?” asked Livvy, looking at him, and then Wan-li and SK.

  She started to go to him but Wan-li put a hand out to stop her.

  “He tried to kill me,” said Wan-li.

  Livvy felt her stomach plummet as she froze in place.

  “That’s why you disappeared,” said Alvina.

  “But…Joel would never kill anybody,” Livvy managed to get out. “He’s a paramedic.”

  “Yes, he tried to kill SK too,” said Wan-li.

  Livvy whirled to SK.

  “What? Is that true?”

  “I’m sorry, Livvy,” he said, nodding his head.

  “No, but…”

  “SK saved me,” said Wan-li. “He saved us all, yes? Joel was working with Carmen. He was her son.”

  Wan-li nodded toward the floor and they looked down at where Carmen lay, a sheet over the body.

  “What?” Livvy said again, even though realization was beginning to dawn–Joel’s impromptu visits, the accidental run-ins, the way he had seemed to care right from the start. It had seemed to good to be true–and it had been, of course.

  She forced herself to look at him, afraid of what she would see in his face.

  “Joel?”

  “Look at you,” he mocked. “All surprised.”

  Carmen’s son? Yes, she could see it now, the same mouth, and something about the eyes.

  “But why?” Livvy whispered.

  “The money,” he spat, his bloodshot eyes boring into her. “What do you think? She hated you, you know. Told me to get close to you. There was never enough money, never. You seriously thought I’d settle for someone like you?” His eyes began to dart around. “You ignorant bunch of–”

  “Right,” said SK, picking up the duct tape and heading toward Joel. “Guess what?” He ripped off a piece of tape. “I’m not your little guy and I’m not a midget,” he said, as he jammed it over Joel’s mouth, cutting off the string of curses that had begun to flow.

  “I’m a dwarf, you piece of garbage.”

  Livvy tried to process it. Joel had been working for Carmen. He was her son. They had meant to kill her, kill all of them.

  “Did he hurt you?” Livvy blurted out, looking between Wan-li and SK. “Are you all right?”

  “I slept for awhile,” said Wan-li, shrugging.

  “Never better,” SK said, tossing the tape aside.

  “Carmen was more capable than she seemed,” said Wan-li, picking up Carmen’s goggles. “Yes, she knew how to reverse her goggles and permit the residents of the multiverse into this world.”

  Wan-li set them down.

  “She was the last one with Sunny,” said Ursula, looking down at the body and shaking her head. “For the money.”

  “I’m tired of living in poverty,” said Livvy. “That’s what she said.”

  “Tiamat’s influence had been growing in the real world long before you tried to network the goggles together,” SK said. “With Tiamat’s help, Carmen was doing well for herself, for the first time in her life. Then you showed up.”

  The doorbell rang and Wan-li led the police in. Livvy sat down, still trying to absorb what she had heard. Eventually, Joel was taken by ambulance to the hospital with a police escort. According to one of the policemen, he’d probably be going to jail for attempted murder.

  It had taken the remaining officers a few hours to get everybody’s story–except for the Nahual. In the tumult of returning to the real world, nobody had seen her slip away.

  When Wan-li and Alvina weren’t being questioned, they had been talking quietly to each other and making phone calls. As the coroner took Carmen’s body away, Livvy and Ursula’s eyes met. In the multiverse they had seen souls rushing in every direction, finding their way at last. Without having to say it, Livvy knew that she and Ursula were thinking the same thing. Among those souls were Bruno and Indra, finally able to find their peace as well. Ursula nodded, lifted her shoulders and straightened her back, although she didn’t smile.

  The investigators had seemed to take most of it in stride, finishing the interviews, photographing the crime scene, and dismissing the witnesses. One by one, Wan-li, Alvina, and Ursula had taken their leave. There had been quiet hugs and whispered good-byes.

  As Livvy and SK watched the last patrol car reverse down the driveway, she turned to him.

  “There’s one last thing I need to do.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

  WEAK BUT AWAKE, Min’s smile could have lit up the underworld.

  “You did it,” she said, holding open the one arm that wasn’t hooked up to tubes.

  Livvy rushed over and gave her a hug, as a spark jumped from her waist to the bed rail. Min reached behind Livvy and grabbed SK’s hand.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Her family stood to one side, making room. Even Min’s mother was all smiles.

  Livvy and SK both told their tales and, as Sam translated certain snippets, there was the occasional exclamation of wonder from their audience–especially the part where SK had tossed the fire iron to Joel.

  “Nice one,” said Sam, nodding.

  Min had listened intently to the whole thing.

  “Oh my gods, Livvy,” was all she could say. “Oh my gods.”

  Finally, her mother came around the end of the bed and gave Livvy a hug and then also SK, saying something in Korean and crying.

  “She says she owes you her daughter’s life,” said Sam.

  The father sniffled as he looked on, nodding.

  Livvy didn’t know what to say and then SK said something in Korean.

  The father and Min laughed and mom smiled.

  “Since when do you speak Korean?” asked Livvy.

  “I never said I didn’t.”

  “Well, what did you say?”

  “He’s putting in an order for home-made kimchee,” said Sam.

  Despite being asleep the last few days, Min was easily tired so the visit was short. As they left the hospital lobby and stepped into the parking lot, SK said, “Guess I’ll drop you at your apartment.”

  “Oh,” Livvy said, nearly missing the curb.

  She hadn’t thought about the burned out dump for a while and it brought her up short. He was right. She couldn’t live at the Nahual’s house, if the house was even owned by her anymore. She couldn’t sleep on SK’s couch forever either.

  He must have seen her hesitate.

  “I think it’s going to be all right,” he said, as a corner of his mouth curled into a smile and he tilted his head toward the car. “Come on.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  “I JUST WANT to walk you to the door,” said SK, as they reached the gate to the building.

  Livvy opened it with her keys, barely noticing the spark. Although the multiverse crisis was over, it might be a while before word had spread through the non-shaman community. It made sense that SK would want to walk her up to the apartment–except for the fact that he was trying to hide a smile, and not doing too well.

  She half-smiled, half-frowned as they made their way into the building. What was that sly little grin about?

  Although the stairs and hallway looked the same, she realized immediately that her front door had been painted and all traces of the inverted pentagram that she had tried to wash off were gone.

  She opened the door and stepped into an apartment that she recognized and yet didn’t. It had been completely redone.

  Livvy took a step in, stopped, and then turned to check the number on the door.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “The Nahual,” said SK, smiling broadly. “She made all the arrangements and paid for everything as well. There was a whole team, as you can imagine, working since you left.” He
took a peek inside and whistled. “I guess their real estate investments must be doing well.”

  Livvy wandered through the place in a daze. Fresh paint, new carpet, and new furniture. She went into the bedroom. There was a new futon and matching dresser and when she opened the drawers, her clothes had all been cleaned and put away.

  “I don’t believe it,” she whispered.

  Then she noticed a carpeted cat pedestal mounted in the corner of the room and a pair of orange ears poking up from the top level.

  “Nacho?”

  He raised his head, his green eyes only half open, and yawned.

  “Nacho!” she exclaimed as she held his little head between her hands.

  “New apartment for everybody,” said SK.

  Livvy turned to say something to him and noticed the altar next to the dresser. As Nacho pulled away and leapt down to a lower perch, she slowly stepped closer. She recognized most of the objects there. Many of them were hers–small things that hadn’t broken in the vandalism, and a few things that been repaired–but there were new additions.

  Livvy picked up a small doll from near the back. With its white hair, jeans, and army surplus jacket, she recognized it as herself–a voodoo doll version of herself. She grinned as she realized that Ursula must have made it. A small pair of goggles were on its head and a tiny amethyst crystal had been strapped over the chest. Livvy gently set it down.

  She lifted a sage bundle that was next to the doll. It had been carefully wrapped with a thin leather cord, which also served to hold several glittering amethyst crystals of various sizes against the sage. As she lifted the bundle to her nose and inhaled, she remembered the bundle that Alvina had used at her home.

  Carefully replacing it, she picked up the coiled Buddhist mala next to it. She let the long circle unfurl and watched as the tiger eye beads gleamed and swiveled. At the center, a golden tassel emerged from an amethyst guru bead. It must have come from Wan-li.

  It was the item furthest in the back though, leaning against the wall, that really caught her attention–a small sun kachina, his circular face staring at her. His one leg was lifted in dance and he held a rattle as well. Had the Nahual left it?

  Finally, as she backed away, something small at the front of the altar glinted. Not quite able to believe what she was seeing, she picked it up and turned back to SK, who was leaning against the doorframe, smiling.

  She held it in front of her, in the palm of her hand.

  “You got my mother’s ring back?”

  “The ticket was in your bag,” he said, hands in pockets, grinning.

  “But how did you…”

  She remembered the nightmare she’d had on his couch. He’d said that she had been screaming.

  “SK, I…”

  As her eyes teared up, she rushed over, bent down, and hugged him, nearly lifting him off the floor.

  “Don’t pick me up,” he said. “I hate that.”

  She laughed and sniffed and kept hugging him, but was careful not to pick him up. Finally, she let him go.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t thank me,” he said, adjusting his shirt. “You’ll be working that off.”

  She gazed down at the ring, unable to stop smiling.

  “In fact,” he said, taking his phone out of his pocket and tapping it. “Seems you’re in demand.”

  She carefully set the ring back on the altar.

  “But, first things first,” he said, putting the phone back in his pocket. “What sounds good for–”

  “Steak,” she said.

  He nodded, smiling.

  “You know, for some reason, I was thinking the very same thing.”

  Then, a worried look came over his face.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You have to promise,” he said, suddenly serious.

  “What?” she said again. “Promise what?”

  “No syrup,” he said. “Please. For my sake.”

  His face erupted into an irresistible grin and she couldn’t help but laugh. When he burst out laughing too, she realized they’d never done this before–laugh together. It felt good.

  “Come on,” she said, pushing him toward the door.

  Just before they left, she paused and stole one last look around.

  “Now, about your wardrobe,” SK was saying, behind her.

  Livvy smiled as she shut the door. He might be right. Maybe it was time to dress like a shaman.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  M. Terry Green is a full-time writer, former archaeologist, and budding minimalist. For more information about her and Livvy’s techno-shaman universe, please visit mterrygreen.com.

  As a special bonus, the first chapter of Shaman, Friend, Enemy starts on the next page!

  SHAMAN, FRIEND, ENEMY

  Chapter 1 (FREE SAMPLE)

  SK scowled as the pulse at Livvy’s jugular vein jumped to life. He leaned forward, staring at it, and furrowed his dark eyebrows. Lately, all of her healings were like this.

  He leaned back far enough so he could look up at the client, who was lying in an ornate four-poster bed. As usual, he hadn’t stirred. SK looked back down at Livvy, who hadn’t moved since she’d lain down on her mat and put on the goggles.

  Her diaphragm began to rise and fall at a faster rate. He slowly shook his head and pressed his lips into a tight line.

  Get in, get done, get out. It was one of the first things that shamans learned. What was she doing?

  Despite the fact that he knew she wouldn’t hear him, he urged her on.

  “Come on, Liv,” he whispered.

  Except for her, the client, and himself, the well-appointed bedroom had been vacated. Electricity was almost guaranteed now. Her shamanic power had grown quickly. He glanced around the molded baseboards although he knew nothing was plugged into the outlets. When she called down her spirit helper in the multiverse, he’d know in the real world. In all of his career as a shaman’s intercessor, he’d never seen anything like it. Then again, he’d never met anybody like Livvy.

  He looked down from where he sat cross-legged on the floor next to her. Again, he leaned forward. Above the silver goggles that she wore, he lightly brushed a lock of gleaming white hair from her forehead. Tiny beads of sweat had started to form.

  What was taking so long in the multiverse?

  ***

  In the underworld, Livvy watched the clouds streaming by overhead.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said. “I know.”

  Her spirit helper was trying to guide her to the client. The only trouble was she didn’t want to see the client. Not just yet.

  She stood in the central plaza of the underworld, a downtown district that appeared much like her real-world home of Los Angeles. In the distance stood the pyramid-shaped roof of city hall. The high-rise buildings that surrounded the plaza towered above it, the clouds seeming to skim their roofs. The water of the fountain that had conveyed her there gurgled gently behind her.

  A rumble of thunder slowly rippled through the mass of boiling clouds and internal flashes of lightning reflected off the myriad windows nearby. Livvy ignored them and crouched down to examine the small group of objects on the ground in front of her.

  Something was wrong with the setup: a clear crystal pyramid, the engagement ring hanging from the tip, the ankh, a heptagram carved from amber, an amethyst heart, a soul catcher amulet, a kila dagger plunged into the ground, and a small polished garnet in the shape of a human skull.

  “Why doesn’t this work?” she muttered. “It has to.”

  A different arrangement maybe?

  She bit her lower lip.

  The descriptions had been so vague.

  Again, thunder rumbled overhead. She glanced skyward and then glared at the objects, trying to think. Maybe it was something about the process, not the artifacts. What else needed to be done?

  A quick burst of lightning arced across the sky, from one end of downtown to the other, and sent harsh shadows skittering alo
ng the ground.

  Damnit, just a few more minutes!

  The following peal of thunder reverberated through the underworld, echoing endlessly and vibrating nearby windows.

  “Fine!” she yelled.

  She frowned at the objects on the ground before she scooped them up and put them back into the inner pockets of her jacket.

  If it didn’t work, it didn’t work–again. She wasn’t going to be able to figure it out here.

  She stood, hands on hips, and looked up at the clouds.

  “All right,” she grumbled. “Let’s do this.”

  The clouds streamed away, the entire sky moving in one direction–the direction of her client. She took off at a jog that quickly turned into a run. The longer you stayed in the multiverse, the harder it was to return to the real world. It was a fundamental rule of shamanism. You delay, you stay. It was time to find the client and get out.

  It was past time.

  Spirit traffic appeared normal. Various animal guides roamed to and fro–a number of birds perched on the surrounding ledges, a lion that could have been from the plains of Africa sprawled on the sidewalk. A large elk stalked slowly past it. There were also the occasional ancestor spirits, though not many. Two men crossed the plaza together, small but wiry with jet-black hair cut in bowl shapes, wearing only thongs. Each carried a large staff and each had a white bone labret through their lower lip. Neither they nor the animal spirit guides took any notice of Livvy. Their business wasn’t with her. Only her own spirit helper had anything to do with her, and her spirit helper was impatient.

  At the end of the block, the clouds took a new direction. She turned right to follow them, keeping up the sprint. She passed buildings and streets, spirits and ancestors, running as fast as she could–which was fast. Her power as a shaman was directly reflected in her abilities in the spiritual realm and, the way that power had grown in recent months, it seemed as though it had no upper limit. She nearly flew down the middle of the street, her speed only hampered by the need to change direction. At first, it had taken her by surprise but now she found she liked it.