Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3

by Green, M. Terry

  “Saved Nicole,” murmured Dominique.

  She put the goggles back on the table and looked over at her sister, who was painting furiously on a huge canvas. Dominique slowly walked over to try talking again. Nicole had seemed so lucid, so at ease in the Multiverse.

  For once, she had dared to hope.

  “Nicole,” she said. “Please try. Please–”

  She stopped as she came around the canvas and could see it.

  It wasn’t the symbols of the Multiverse. In all her life, she’d never seen Nicole paint anything but the abstract icons.

  And now this?

  Dominique stared with her mouth open. It was a portrait of Livvy.

  The plaza of Livvy’s Underworld, the surrounding tall buildings, the sky full of clouds lit from within. It was the Multiverse in extraordinary detail, almost lifelike.

  And there stood Livvy, looking right at them, her feet apart, one hand on her hip, one hand held out as though waiting for someone to take it. Her green eyes smiled and it was as though you knew you could take her hand and everything was going to be all right. Her white hair was swept to the side in a breeze and the effect was so realistic that Dominique almost felt her own hair moving.

  Without knowing it, Dominique began to reach out her hand to the sparkling water, but something stopped her. She stared down and saw Nicole’s hand on hers. She jerked her head up to see Nicole staring steadily into her eyes. There was no disapproval there, nor the frantic expression she was used to, only a calm gaze that seemed to be waiting. Dominique looked back at the painting and abruptly felt a sudden wave of cold realization.

  She dropped her hand.

  Nicole returned to painting.

  Dominique hugged herself as the reality of what Livvy had done flooded over her. She stood silently as Nicole deftly added minute detail to the stonework of the fountain. She felt the tightness in her chest lessen the more she watched Nicole work but something wasn’t quite right.

  “The water,” said Dominique, so quietly she almost couldn’t hear herself. “It’s more blue than that.”

  Nicole stopped and cocked her head, looking at the fountain.

  She went to her palette and mixed two different blue dabs with a bit of white. She began to touch up the water, adding highlights here and there and then she stood back. Dominique cocked her head to the right and Nicole to the left and then, together, they nodded.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  LIVVY STOOD OUTSIDE the door, leaning on the cane, and tried to look through the dark glass. Although the sky was barely light, she knew Mamacita would be there. She reached a hand toward the knob but stopped.

  What would she say?

  Thanks for everything, Mamacita. Sorry I doubted you. Sorry I acted so terribly, and then lied, and also tried necromancy.

  Gods.

  She shook her head.

  Mamacita would have every right to tell her to get out. Stay away. Never come back. After what she’d said? Mamacita ought to–

  Suddenly the door opened, the little bell tinkled on its spring, and Mamacita appeared.

  She stood there, hands on hips.

  “Now how are we supposed to hug if you just stand out here all day?” She opened her arms and smiled.

  Livvy dropped the cane and wrapped her arms around Mamacita so fast and so fiercely that she thought she’d break her. To her surprise, Mamacita did exactly the same thing–squeezed her hard, like she wasn’t ever going to let her go.

  After several moments, Livvy realized that’s precisely what she was doing. Mamacita knew. Livvy smiled a little and hugged her even tighter.

  Time passed, though Livvy had no idea how much, and Mamacita finally let go. They looked at each other and Livvy felt understanding pass between them.

  Mamacita bent over, picked up the cane, and handed it to her.

  “Mmm hmm,” she intoned lightly, reaching for the door. She paused in the opening and looked over her glasses.

  “Don’t you be a stranger,” she said and waited with a smile.

  Livvy nodded and then watched as Mamacita quietly closed the door.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  LIVVY SLOWLY LOWERED herself into one of the high-backed cushioned chairs in the lobby of her condo. Leaning heavily on the cane and keeping her left leg straight, she still dropped that last little inch.

  Ouch.

  “I wish you’d wait for all the test results,” said SK. He pushed her rolling luggage in front of him and then out of the way as he stood in front of her. “What would it be, another couple of days?” he asked.

  It had been like this since she’d said she was leaving.

  He took her hand and held it. He’d done a lot of that too. She smiled down at their hands and then at him. The sun was to her back and the very first rays of morning were streaming in, lighting his naturally brown eyes to almost hazel. He was wearing blue today; his hair was perfect, his beard flawlessly trimmed at the jaw line.

  This was how she wanted to remember him.

  “Seriously,” he said. “What difference would a couple of days make?”

  “None,” she said.

  “Well then?”

  “The test results won’t make a difference either.”

  The puncture wounds from the wolf attack had vanished. The deep purple and black bruises on her left side remained though. Despite the fact that x-rays had confirmed her left hip, thigh, and two ribs had been broken, the bones were almost completely knit back together. No cast necessary. It was the rigidity and weakness of the leg that had everybody puzzled. There seemed to be no cause.

  “This,” she said glancing at her leg. “I have a feeling this is going to take a while, and I’m not sure conventional medicine is going to help.”

  “All the more reason to stay. Where else are you going to find as many shamans as here?”

  “I can’t stay,” she said quietly.

  They’d been over this too.

  He regarded her silently for a moment before he looked down at her hand, running his thumb gently over her fingers.

  “I know,” he finally said.

  He was right. There was no place with more shamans than L.A. but it was all the more reason for her to leave. He needed to work with them, be in the middle, and regain balance. Even more so after Mayet had decided to leave. She knew her clients would be in good hands, not only with SK but also Min and Ursula.

  The civil suit with Matthew had ground to a standstill. Lawyers on all sides were still trying to come up with legal codes that addressed anything in the Multiverse. With a bit of luck, SK had said, Tamara might be convinced to give a statement that would corroborate Min’s. They would likely settle out of court.

  He looked up at her. “If not a couple days, how about a couple hours?” he asked.

  She smiled at him. “What would a couple of hours do?”

  “I could pack a few things, make a few calls–”

  “This is something I need to figure out on my own,” she said gently.

  The meeting with Alvina, the revelations from her mother–Livvy couldn’t shake a persistent feeling that it was time to understand her place in the Multiverse. It was past time.

  Too much had happened. So much had been said. Some bridges had been crossed. They were silent for a time, content just to hold hands.

  The sound of a car door behind her said that Min was there. She’d brought up the silver sedan from the garage below. Livvy heard the door to the lobby open but neither she nor SK took their eyes off one another.

  Min cleared her throat.

  Livvy looked up at her and smiled.

  Min had already started to cry.

  Livvy put both hands on her cane and pulled herself up as SK put a hand on her good hip to steady her.

  She wrapped Min up in a big hug. “Minnie Mouse. Come on, now. I’m counting on you.”

  Min nodded.

  “Not so many treats for Nacho,” Livvy said, rubbing Min’s back. “I think he’s putting on we
ight.”

  Min nodded again, hugging her tightly, and sniffed.

  “Okay,” said Livvy, pulling back. She reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out the amethyst pendant, and looped the long chain over Min’s head.

  Min stared down at it.

  “Thank you, Min,” Livvy whispered. “For everything.”

  Min sobbed now and held her hands to her mouth.

  Livvy hugged her briefly this time and then turned, took hold of the suitcase and headed to the front door of the lobby. Even though she leaned on the cane, she still had to limp. SK held the door and then stowed the suitcase in the trunk.

  With some difficulty, she lowered herself into the car and SK shut the door. She lowered the window.

  “Still no idea where you’re headed?” he said.

  Livvy shrugged. “East, I think. Maybe there’ll be more sun.”

  SK looked in that direction for a few moments and then nodded.

  “About us,” he said, turning back to her.

  She waited for his eyes to find hers.

  “I haven’t given up,” he said, smiling a bit.

  She grinned in return and even laughed a little. “I think I knew that.”

  They paused and looked at one another, their smiles slowly fading.

  “I may not know where I’m going,” she said. “But I know I’ll be back.” She paused and held out something. “This is yours.”

  He held out his hand and Livvy laid the amethyst heart in the center of it. “You’ll wait?” she asked.

  He leaned forward and, as she closed her eyes, he softly kissed her forehead.

  “I can do that,” he whispered.

  After several long moments, she opened her eyes for one last look at him but found her tears had made him blurry. She turned the key in the ignition and the engine started. Before she could think twice, she checked the mirrors, eased down on the gas, and pulled onto the street.

  She knew better than to look back. The road ahead was open, and the sky was crystal clear.

  BOOK THREE

  SHAMAN

  SISTER

  SORCERESS

  OLIVIA LAWSON TECHNO-SHAMAN BOOK THREE

  M. TERRY GREEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  “SHE’S HERE!”

  DALE heard Leon's scream a second before the front door crashed into the wall. The bowl of stew leapt out of his hands, seemed to hover next to the kitchen counter, then fell to the tile floor where it shattered. Dark blue shards, swollen kernels of white corn, and chunks of lamb spread at his feet.

  “She’s here!” Leon screamed from just behind him, making Dale jump for a second time.

  His hands flew to his chest, one still holding a spoon, as he whirled around.

  “By all the gods!” Dale finally managed to get out. “Leon!”

  Leon was breathing hard, his plump cheeks sucking in and out with the effort, but his dark eyes stared into Dale’s.

  Dale stood very still.

  “Who’s here?” he said, daring to hope.

  Leon's eyes twinkled as he crooked up one corner of his mouth.

  “The woman of your dreams.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “WHAT?” CELESTINO DEMANDED from the phone. “Where?”

  He shot his hand up to quiet the chanters. Silence fell on the men seated around him in the semi-dark, at the edge of the kiva.

  He listened intently.

  “Don’t let her out of your sight,” he said, jabbing his finger into the air. “Understand me?”

  He snapped the phone closed and glared at the men around him. This was the last thing he needed. He took a deep breath. He felt Franklin’s eyes on him but pointedly didn’t meet them.

  “All right,” he said, putting the phone in his pocket. “I’ll be back.”

  Franklin rose, easy to pick out, even in the dimness.

  “No,” Celestino barked. “Not you. Not yet.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  ALTHOUGH SOMEONE ELSE in the tour group had said it was like stepping back in time, Livvy had the distinct feeling she had stepped onto a different planet. To think it had only been a couple days drive from Los Angeles was almost unbelievable.

  SK has to see this.

  She reached for her phone but stopped.

  No photos. That’s what the tour guide had said.

  Instead, she swept her gaze slowly across the subtle, changing hues of the Painted Desert. The drive up to Second Mesa on the Hopi reservation had been dramatic but the view from the First Mesa village of Walpi was breathtaking. Stretching as far as the eye could see, the stark landscape to the south moved into vast swatches of gently changing buff and orange, intercut with sharp peaks and plateaus of red. To the southwest, the snow-capped tips of the San Francisco Peaks jutted upward. She had passed them yesterday on her way out of Flagstaff.

  I have to remember every detail, so I can tell him.

  It was something she’d thought at least twenty times a day, ever since she’d left.

  “SK,” she whispered.

  She’d chosen to leave L.A.–without a plan, without a single idea about where she would go or what she would do. Everything in her had said it was the right thing to do but now…

  “Stay together please,” she heard from behind her in the distance.

  I’m trying. Gods, am I trying.

  She hung her cane on one arm and flipped up the collar of her peacoat against the icy wind before turning back to the village.

  Why here?

  The sign on Interstate 40 had said “Payson / Second Mesa” and before she realized what she was doing she had taken the exit. She watched as the tour party began to meander away–mostly older couples and one small family. She was the only single person in the group.

  Although she’d wanted to be on her own, to try to figure things out after all that had happened, she thought of nothing except the people she’d left behind. She pictured Mamacita in the doorway of her shop. Then she saw SK’s face when she’d said she needed to leave.

  “This is where Walpi begins,” the guide said, as she turned back toward the group. She’d only taken a few paces away from the railing. She pointed to their left at a small, cinder block building they’d just passed. “That’s the showers.” She gestured to their right, toward the jutting tip of the mesa with its collection of adobe, brick, and block buildings. “Walpi doesn’t have electricity or water. The artists we’ll meet there only come up here during the day. Nobody lives there anymore.”

  “Why not?” asked a particularly inquisitive man who’d been peppering her with questions from the start.

  The Hopi guide was a middle-aged woman whose long hair was still jet black. She arched her eyebrows and turned to him.

  “There’s no electricity or water,” she said.

  And it’s cold, thought Livvy, as she pushed her hands further into her coat pockets.

  “Did you live here?” he asked the guide.

  “When I was a kid,” she replied, wrapping her coat a bit tighter.

  “When did you leave?”

  “When they took me away for boarding school,” she said. “I’ve lived down below ever since.”

  She turned and resumed her slow walk as the group mimicked her pace. Livvy took the cane from where it hung on her arm and started after them. Careful not to move too quickly, she leaned on it heavily. When she walked, the pain in her left hip and thigh was almost constant. Even so, she had no regrets. Saving someone had been the right thing to do. But, if she could have managed it without being hit by lightning in the Multiverse, that would have been good.

  “Did you have a choice about boarding school?” asked the teenage girl who was with her parents.

  “Yeah,” said the guide, turning slightly. “Reno, Riverside or Phoenix.” She softened her tone. “They took us from our homes against our parents’ wishes.”

  The girl looked shocked and glanced at her mom and dad.

  The guide said something else but her words were whipped
away in the wind. Livvy limped forward with the group but suddenly stopped. There was that strange sensation, same as when she’d gotten out of her car–the distinct feeling she was being watched. Quickly, she swiveled her head. There was no one on the street behind them. Well, unless you counted the dog.

  At the visitor center, the first dog that she had run across had made a beeline to her jacket pocket–the one with the little package of peanut butter cookies. Moments later, another dog had shown up so she snapped the peanut-shaped cookie in half and gave a part to each.

  Now, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled one out but, as if in answer, the dog down the street took a seat, never taking its eyes off her. As she watched it, she cocked her head. It did the same. Whether from the cold or the strangely human movement, Livvy shivered. This dog wasn’t like the others. She peered at it. It was smaller, had a pointier snout, and its bushy tail was tipped with black.

  Is that a coyote?

  Livvy straightened up.

  So did the coyote.

  “Okay,” Livvy said. “Time for me to move along.”

  As she turned, she felt the cookie get tugged from her hand and nearly screamed. It was just another village dog. In fact, it was the same one from the beginning of the tour, a big, friendly mutt with a fluffy, beige coat.

  “Gods,” she said, regaining her balance after nearly toppling over it.

  “Sorry,” said a little voice from behind her.

  Livvy turned as a small Hopi girl, about four or five, moved past her and hugged the big dog around the neck.

  “Jo Jo,” she said, shaking it as much as she could–which wasn’t much. “You know you’re supposed to wait.”

  The big dog crunched lazily on the cookie in reply.

  Livvy quickly checked on the coyote. It was gone. When she looked back down at the little girl, both she and Jo Jo were staring at her.