by K Ryn
Blair's tone had dropped into the range that he used in his Guide mode, and Ellison found himself straining to listen to the faint words that carried through the line; hanging on every word that the younger man uttered. Despite their grim situation, he smiled when the anthropologist began describing what a sentinel was -- using the same explanation for the children that he'd used on a freaked-out cop so long ago.
The kids are probably more receptive to the concept than I was, Jim mused. He glanced at the still buzzing window worriedly, wishing that sentinel gifts included the ability to alter time, because the rest of them weren't doing him a damn bit of good at this moment.
While the Sentinel watched out for the tribe, his companion, or Guide, watched out for the Sentinel. In this tribe, the Sentinel's companion was a young man named Berran. He was not only Guide to the Sentinel, but he was also the tribe's Shaman. The old Shaman of the tribe had been wounded in an ambush and it had been Berran who had found him. Unable to heal the fatal injury, Berran had summoned his Sentinel and together they tended the old man until he died. With his last breath, the Medicine Man passed on his gifts and named the young man as his successor.
Berran was young to have so much responsibility, and often it weighed heavy on his shoulders, for he felt unready, unworthy of the bequest. However, he did the best he could and the villagers seemed content with his efforts.
One morning, Berran gathered up eight of the village children -- and one of the young maidens, Taela, who often helped him the teaching -- and led them up a narrow path that snaked its way up the side of the mountain. His goal was an ancient structure that had been built into the side of the cliff countless generations earlier. Within its earthen walls rested the greatest treasure of the tribe -- their history. Painted on the walls were symbols and pictures that told the story of their village. On narrow, hand-molded shelves rested urns and sculptures that were works of art in themselves, but more precious to the tribe for the connections to the past that they represented.
It was the duty of the tribe's Shaman to maintain and care for the structure and its priceless contents, and Berran had carefully tended to that responsibility. But he also recognized the value of the knowledge that the shelter contained and had begun to bring small groups of the village children to the site, using the artifacts and paintings as part of his teaching...
Blair paused and took a deep breath as he glanced first at Amanda and then at the clock. Minutes were ticking away... he had to hurry...
Everyone okay on the trail? he asked quietly, in his normal voice. All around the circle, the children nodded their heads, but no one opened their eyes, caught up in the spell that he was weaving. Blair shifted back into his 'Guide' voice and continued.
On this bright, sunny morning, Berran's mind was filled with the plans that he had made for what he would teach his students that day. He paused briefly at a point on the path not too far from the sanctuary, waiting for the children to catch up, and glanced down at the village below. The women were at their chores as were the men who were too old for hunting or fighting. The warriors were nowhere to be seen, having left earlier to scout and secure the perimeter of the encampment. The Sentinel had left the village before the sun had crested the peaks, seeking signs of a roaming band of raiders that had attacked several neighboring villages. Normally, the Guide would have been at the Watchman's side, but his duty to his students had taken precedence this day. As he always did, when he was unable to be with his Sentinel, Berran aimed a mental prayer in his partner's direction, wishing him safe hunting...
Crouched next to the restroom window, phone pressed to his ear, Jim's eyes widened in surprise at Blair's words.
Is that just a part of the story? Is that Berran 'talking' or Sandburg? Does Blair do that, when he can't be with me?
The sound of high-pitched laughter and the tapping, shussing noise of spirit rattles brought Berran's attention back to the children...
When his own kids picked up on the cue and began laughing and shaking their own rattles, Blair smiled, continuing the story without missing a beat.
Taela was shepherding the last of their lagging strays upward. Berran let his gaze drift beyond her, absently checking the path and stiffened. His sharp eyes had caught movement on the trail below them. Rising to his toes he strained to see what it might be, his right hand automatically seeking out the small knife that hung from his belt. He was not a warrior, but the children were in his charge, and therefore, under his protection.
Berran's eyes widened and fear gripped his heart when he saw a man move stealthily out from behind an outcropping of rock. The nearest village was many days travel on foot, and although they traded with their neighbors, their contact with others outside of their own tribe was minimal, so the appearance of strangers on the path below was alarming. The young Shaman held his breath, his gaze fixed on the spot and within seconds saw several more men creep through the open space and pass out of sight. Warriors, he thought, by the look of their war paint and the weapons he had glimpsed...
The rattling around Blair faltered. Keep shaking your rattles, remember, the children don't know what's going on, yet, he urged his own kids. The clacks and shusses of their instruments picking up the beat of the still playing drum music. With a quick glance at the clock -- 9:45 -- he shifted back into the tale.
Berran gripped his knife desperately, painfully aware that he was ill prepared to deal with a party of armed men. He glanced upward toward their destination and then back down the path. Realizing that there was no way to get the children past the raiders -- for he was certain that it was the men that his Sentinel was hunting who were on their trail -- he decided to push on and seek whatever safety he could find for his charges in the cliff shelter. He forced a merriment into his voice that he didn't feel and spoke to the children, urging them to hurry onward ahead of him. As the last of them charged past, Taela joined him. He ushered her forward as well, taking her arm and whispering their danger in her ear.
Blair's eyes sought Amanda's as he continued to speak.
Berran could tell that she was frightened, but she, too, was more concerned for the children than her own safety. Her courage gave the young Shaman strength. He urged her to follow the children and get them settled within the sanctuary. Once she was out of sight on the next turning of the path, Berran turned and trotted back down the trail a few yards to his earlier vantage point.
Staring out into the endless jungle, the Guide spoke quietly, sending a message to his Sentinel on the wings of the wind that blew down from the mountain. He searched the sea of green looking for some sign that the Watchman had heard his cry for help. Finally, there was a glimmer of light at the top of one of the trees. Berran smiled in relief, knowing that his message had reached its target. Despite the fact that his partner was so far away, he felt a surge of hope.
Jogging up the path to the shelter, a plan began to form in his mind. His Sentinel would come, but it would be up to Berran to keep the children and Taela safe until he arrived.
The certainty in his partner's voice carried over the phone line, and Jim shuddered. Blair had so much faith in him. He could only hope that this was not the time that he would let the younger man down.
In the museum classroom, reality and fantasy converged.
Within one of the inner chambers of the cliff structure, Berran gathered the children close, his voice dropping to a bare whisper.
Blair's eight students crowed closer to their modern-day Shaman.
There are raiders coming up the path behind us, the Shaman explained urgently. We are safe here for the moment, but not for long. I fear it is the treasure in this sanctuary that draws them. There is no way to get safely past the men and return to the village on the trail, however there is another way out that they may not know about. We will use that, but there is still a danger -- we cannot travel together for the first steps of this journey. You must go one by one, and slip by them unseen. If the strangers guess our intent, they will try to sto
p us.
Claire shivered and reached out to pull a trembling Marisa to her side.
Berran looked around the circle of frightened young faces. I promise I will let no harm come to any of you. The Sentinel knows our plight. He is coming, and with him the tribe's warriors, but we must do what we can to keep ourselves safe until they arrive. I will call upon the spirits of this sacred place to aid us, but I need your help as well. I want each of you to summon your power animals for protection. When I call your name, you will leave this room and follow the corridor to the second room on the left. Enter there and you will find a small opening in the far wall. You will have to climb out, but Taela will be there to help you. Be silent and brave and all will be well. I will remain behind to safeguard your escape.
Blair took a deep breath and picked up the wolf's head rattle. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the soft drum music issuing from the tape recorder, willing his own pulse to match the even beat. He began to shake the gourd in time to the cadence, the children mimicking his actions perfectly.
In the silence between the beats, pulsed another vibration and the Shaman reached for it instinctively, his summons a whisper to the past. Gentle spirits, this young one and his charges seek your wisdom and strength. Our need is dire... the peril close... Send the guardians of the young so that they may be cloaked in protection... See these innocents safely from this place of danger and delivered into the arms of the tribe's human guardians...
Berran lowered his rattle to the ground, and the children followed suit. When the Shaman opened his eyes, he found the chamber lit with an eerie blue light. He saw to his relief that the spirits had indeed answered. Ghostly shapes flitted and crawled and hopped to the children's sides...
Blair blinked in surprise, for when he opened his eyes, the lights within the classroom seemed to have changed as well, and around the children --
What the --
Blair shot a startled glance toward Amanda who met his gaze questioningly, oblivious to the presence of the beautiful, tawny-colored doe that stood beside her. The anthropologist shifted his stunned gaze to the children, who were looking at him expectantly, all but one apparently unaware that they each had gained an ethereal companion.
Blair blinked again, but the apparitions didn't vanish. Clinging to a strand of Marisa's hair was a brilliant blue butterfly, its wings folding and unfolding gracefully; beating in time to the drum music. Tucked in next to the laces of Claire's right sneaker, a dark greenish-gray bullfrog puffed out the bottom of its throat and emitted a deep resounding croak that only Blair seemed able to hear. A dragonfly hovered next to Freddy's head, but the anthropologist didn't think that it was the creature's furiously buzzing wings that had prompted the suspicious expression on the boy's face. Talan didn't flinch as a foot-long spotted lizard slithered up the sleeve of his shirt, nor did Jenny seem to notice the grasshopper that was leaping from one knee to the other. Julia was equally immune to the small army of ants that scurried on the floor in front of her and the box turtle that sat in Ryan's lap wasn't prompting any reaction from its host either.
Only Kim, who held a delicate, long-legged preying mantis in her open palm seemed to have a clue to the magic that had enfolded them. She met Blair's confused stare with an enigmatic smile and then chirped at the insect encouragingly.
A gust of hot, moist breath bathed the left side of Blair's face and he turned his head abruptly. He found himself staring into the huge, pale yellowish eyes of a gray wolf. Startled, Blair blinked a third time. When he opened his eyes, the lighting in the room had returned to normal and there was no trace of the wolf, or -- his gaze swung back to the children -- any of the other creatures that he had thought he'd seen. He was more befuddled than he had been seconds earlier.
What the hell was that all about? Was it real? Or just wishful thinking?
Berran... Amanda's soft call brought Blair's stunned gaze back to her and to their grim reality. It's time... I can hear the raiders in the outer chamber, she prompted.
Blair glanced back at the children. Their expectant expressions were quickly shifting to confusion. Act now, dissect this little mystical episode later, he berated himself, turning to the tiny figure to his left. Marisa...
Wide blue eyes looked up at him confidently.
Leave your rattle and go with Taela to open the way...
The youngster scrambled to her feet. She took one step toward Amanda, then turned and launched herself into Blair's arms, wrapping him in a desperate hug. She pulled back just far enough to look searchingly into his eyes. Will Berran... will you be safe? she whispered.
Blair's tight, dry throat and the tears that sprang to his eyes made his voice rough, but he managed a reassuring smile. Yes. My -- his Sentinel will see to that. He always does. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and then gently pushed her away.
Now go... be careful...
She nodded and scurried to join Amanda at the door. Together, they slipped out into the corridor.
Amanda found herself holding her breath as she ushered Marisa down the hallway. Placing the little girl to her left side, both to shield her from the robbers' view and to keep Marisa from getting a good look at the men, she laid one arm over the narrow shoulders and kept her eyes firmly fixed on the restroom door.
This should work, Amanda told herself firmly. Kid's this age are always having to make a run to the restroom. Even if the thieves see us, they shouldn't get suspicious...
Yet the three seconds that it took to pass by the open arched doorway that led to the display chamber, and the eight that it took to reach the restroom door, were the longest she'd ever lived. She let out a long noisy sigh of relief the moment she and Marisa were out of sight behind the wooden door. Ignoring the little girl's curious stare, she hurried to the last stall.
As the door closed behind Amanda and Marisa, Blair turned to the remaining children.
While your guardian spirits protect you, the spirits of the past will keep the raiders confused, Berran explained.
Blair reached over to the second tape recorder and pushed the play button. The pleased shrieks and noisy rattling that he had recorded earlier filled the room. The children's eyes lit with mischief and they smiled gleefully at the trick.
The anthropologist nodded to Claire. Your turn, kiddo.
I'll be content with your spirit guide's song until we meet again, the young Shaman assured his student. She graced him with a smile, and quick hug, and then she was gone.
// Yes. My -- his Sentinel will see to that. He always does. //
The Sentinel's finger's tightened around the cell phone when he heard his Guide's confident answer to the little girl's question. He stood up and checked the window again -- the buzz of the still active security system made his skin crawl and his jaw muscles clench even tighter. He swung the mike from the headset into place, ready to verbally tear whoever wasn't holding up their end of the plan to shreds, and froze as the irritating noise and vibration suddenly ceased.
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Jim quickly reported in to Simon. System's down. Remind Pike that his people can't move toward the emergency exit until the lights go off. We can't risk alarming Hennesey and his men.
// Rafe just checked in. He's in position. How long to get the kids out? //
Sandburg's planning to send one every 30 seconds or so. If things go without a hitch, about four minutes.
// We might have to douse the lights before that, Simon warned. Rafe said he thought he picked out one of Hennesey's men in the main lobby area -- //
Probably waiting for that tour group to start assembling.
// Rafe said the guy seemed pretty tense, Jim. //
I'll keep an ear on things from here, the Sentinel replied. Tell him to be ready to go dark on my signal.
Jim barely heard his captain's acknowledgment as he stood on his toes and peered into the window, impatiently watching for the first arrivals. He heard the scrape of metal hinges grinding against one another, and then the door
to the end stall was abruptly pulled open. He found himself staring down into Amanda's anxious face. Ellison tapped the window and gave the grad student a 'thumbs up' signal. The young woman nodded and pulled Marisa into the stall with her.
A second later Amanda and Jim were face to face, her muffled curse carrying easily to the Sentinel's ears as she struggled with the latch. For a heart- pounding moment, it refused to budge. Frowning, the grad student gave the frame a sharp tap with the heel of her hand and the glass panel abruptly swung outward. Jim grabbed the edge of the frame and forced the window wide open.
I heard you might need a hand pulling off Sandburg's version of the Great Escape, he said softly.
And they say there's never a cop around when you need one, Amanda whispered back, grinning in obvious relief. Hold on a second and I'll give Marisa a boost.
She immediately disappeared from Jim's line of sight. He heard a dull thud and guessed that the grad student had opened the wall-mounted baby changing station to give the children a platform to stand on. There was the scuff of rubber against something smooth, the thunk of bony knees contacting plastic, and suddenly Jim found himself staring into a pair of cornflower blue eyes.
Hello, Marisa, The Sentinel whispered. I'm Detective Jim. I'm a friend of Blair's. He asked me to stop by and help out with the story. Can I give you a lift?
The little girl nodded, her eyes wide. Jim took the hands she offered and eased her through the small opening. Wrapping her in a hug, which she shyly returned, Ellison was about to lower her to the ground when he heard Amanda gasp and the restroom door creak again. Tightening his grip on Marisa, Jim peered through the open window trying to see what had alarmed the grad student.
Amanda?
She glanced up at him, her expression strained as she hugged another little girl to her side. It's okay, Jim. It's just our next escapee. This is Claire...
