by Edward Shawn
James tried ignoring the commotion at the camp but found it impossible to do. Aside from his concern for the safety of his friends, he was also curious about the woman with the gun. Was this the person everyone was trying to protect him from? He found it hard to believe, but then again, what did he really know about any of it. Being a woman didn’t make her any less dangerous.
Micah nudged James with his staff. “Step closer to me.”
His resonant voice pushed all thoughts aside. Moving next to the shaman, he gazed up at the tall man. “Where are we going? How long will we be gone?”
“I’m taking you to my home. But as far as how long, that depends...”
“What do you mean? We will come back, right?” The idea of not seeing his family and friends shivered his soul. Already burdened with a sense of loss, Micah’s words just compounded the feeling.
“There will be time for questions. But for now, you must trust me,” Micah said.
James struggled with the choice being forced upon him. He was unsure if leaving was the right thing to do, but the woman with the gun assured him that staying meant placing his life at risk. Feeling control over his life slipping away, he was being pulled along the path to fulfilling his so-called destiny, whether he wanted it or not.
Placing an arm around James’s shoulder, Micah guided him towards an isolated tree centered within a grouping of firs. Uniform in shape and missing its branches, the top was crowned by a bird carving with wings extended. Further details hidden by the night, James touched it and concluded that it wasn’t a tree at all. It was, in fact, a totem pole.
Micah reached into the lining of his vest. Extracting two items, he unwrapped one, placed the contents into his mouth, then handed the other to James. “Eat it,” he said.
James examined the foil-like paper. “What is it?”
“Some dried fruit. It will help us see our escape route.”
Removing the wrap, he glanced at Micah chewing vigorously. Placing the fruit into his mouth, James bit down on it. The taste wasn’t bad at all. It was sweet but with tiny pockets of sour sprinkled within.
The sky started brightening as did the forest around him. Energy patterns emerged in a variety of shades and intensity. Flowing back and forth between the trees, the earth, down through the night sky and even infused with the falling rain, the patterns filled his sight with vibrant swathes of color.
James noticed a ribbon of violet energy sparking behind the pole. It wasn’t there before, he would swear by it. The vertical fissure of crackling power hung in the air, a rip through the fabric of space.
Micah stood before the shimmering slash of purple energy. Dipping the end of his staff into the vortex, the spatial tear expanded, the entry point growing larger.
James’s attention was drawn by a bright flash from the camp.
“It’s time,” Micah said. “We have to go.” Stepping halfway inside the widened gap of pulsating light, Micah reached out and waited for James to take his hand.
Whispering a silent prayer, James followed him in. The portal closed behind them, the totem pole continuing its lonely vigil within the vast wilds of nature.
Moments after the portal vanished, a black dog stepped away from the trees. Sniffing the ground and the air around the totem pole, the tracker turned and started back for the campfire.
22
“You didn’t have to shoot the dog,” Falconer screamed into Evelynn’s face. “You’ll pay for what you did!”
She wasn’t afraid of him or his anger. Having gazed into the eyes of killers before, his glare just didn’t have enough coldness behind it. Oxygen returning to her lungs, she stared at the partially hidden medallion beneath his shirt.
Evelynn wanted it. With the artifact in her possession, the mission would be over and she could leave these miserable woods. But before celebrating with a hot bath, she needed to get this man off of her, incapacitate him and then take the medallion from him.
“Get off me!” Evelynn squirmed beneath him. She could tell he didn’t know what to do with her. He wasn’t a killer; he probably wouldn’t even strike her again. His face hovering close to hers, she intended to make him pay for that mistake.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she begged. Inside her scheming mind, she was delighted by his reaction; his anger started to subside. “I didn’t mean to shoot your dog,” she said in a sorrowful tone to disarm him further. She saw him coming down from his adrenalin surge. His grip on her wrists easing a little, he looked weary and was surely getting uncomfortable from sitting on her for so long. Tired of this man, the weather and the mission, Evelynn knew it was time for her to end this.
She mumbled under her breath. As he leaned in closer to hear, she moved her head into position for a kiss. He hesitated and she smiled, then swiftly closed in and bit down on his lip.
Blood flowed freely down his chin. Releasing him from her bite, Evelynn slid her right hand free of his rain slicked grip, then grabbed and bent his thumb back before punching him solidly in the jaw. Rolling out from underneath him as he fell off her, his howls of pain and frustration filled her with glee. Kicking him away, she completed their disentanglement. Regaining her footing, she spat his blood from her mouth, then backed away and retrieved her handgun and headset.
“Keep the change,” she said as she pointed the gun at his chest. “I really want that medallion you have. Remove it now.”
Lightning split the sky as the tracker entered the camp. “And where have you been?” She watched the dog come up beside her and stare at the man sprawled in the dirt.
Falconer ignored the animal, his eyes never leaving Evelynn’s face as he snapped his dislocated thumb back into place. He screamed and she imagined he burned the image of her into his memory, not that it would do him much good; she didn’t plan on leaving him alive.
Booms of thunder trailing the lightning, a familiar cry pierced through the clatter of rain. From somewhere overhead, the cries of a crow chilled Evelynn’s blood.
Reacting without thinking, she repositioned her gun, then realized her critical mistake. Falconer floated up, the light from the medallion exploding in her eyes once again. Cursing, she fired wildly in hopes of bringing him down.
Standing in the camp, her gun trained on shadows, she heard noises coming from the surrounding forest. Hoots and tweets came from one tree, then the next and the one next to that until the clamor of countless birds disoriented her. Gazing up through the rain, Evelynn saw dozens more circling the treetops.
Several descended from the skies. Flying directly at her, they veered off at the last moment, their wings fluttering at the edge of her hazy vision. An owl emerged from the dark and attempted to knock the gun from her hand. Crossing in front of her from many directions, the ceaseless squawking and screeches disintegrated Evelynn’s logic and training. Her reasons for being there temporarily forgotten, she ran from the campsite. Fighting the undercurrent of fear threatening to overwhelm her, she forced herself to stop and re-establish her connection with the W.A.R. room. “Darrell, are you there? Mr. Darrell, come in!”
His hollow sounding voice came through the headset. “I’m here, Miss Bone.”
“Get me back to the truck! I can’t find my way back!”
“Okay, just a moment.”
Evelynn started off again. She didn’t see any birds but that hardly meant a thing. They could be watching her from any of the surrounding trees.
“I’ve activated Sandra’s transponder,” Mr. Darrell informed her. “Follow the arrow back to her. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”
The tracker appeared a few yards ahead, its familiar red light blinking repeatedly. Finding her night-vision glasses, Evelynn put them on. Activating a display screen overlaid onto the lenses, an arrow icon indicated the direction to proceed. “Much better. Thanks, Darrell.”
“You’re welcome. Always glad to help.”
Periodically scanning the skies for signs of winged pursuers, she cautiously followed the arrow icon po
inting the way back to Sandra and safety. The tracker, in front by twenty feet or so, led the way forward. Evelynn realized she probably didn’t need Mr. Darrell’s help; following the tracker was all she really needed to do. If he could track energy, returning to the SUV should be quite easy for him. She thought about giving the dog a name. It would give her something to think about other than birds and medallions and men that could fly.
Mr. Darrell came back on the headset. “Miss Bone? Jeremiah wants to speak with you.”
She would have to settle on a name later on. For now, it was back to business. Jeremiah wouldn’t be pleased by what she had to say. It was painfully clear she was ill-prepared to deal with the forces working against them.
“Evey, were you able to secure the medallion?”
Evelynn smirked. His main concern was rather expected. “No, I wasn’t. This assignment’s more complicated than you thought it would be. You’d best consider this a reconnaissance mission.” Pushing aside some low branches, she found a path and followed it up an incline towards the top of a small hill.
“What happened?”
“I’ll explain everything later. If you really want this medallion, you’ll need much more than–” Evelynn froze as twin lights approached the crest of the hill from the opposite side. Resembling the headlights of a car, the greenish hue of the nearing lights told her otherwise. Her instincts screaming to get off the path, Evelynn disconnected the line to her grandfather before concealing herself behind a large tree lining the trail.
The lights leaped over the top of the hill, then charged down the path. Evelynn stared, bewildered by the sight of two pale green horses racing by. One of the ethereal creatures carried a rider, but they passed by so quickly she couldn’t see anything other than his attire. His shirt was red and he wore what appeared to be a shabby, pointed hat. Riding in the direction she was in a hurry to leave, she waited until the apparitions disappeared from view.
The forest quiet once again, Evelynn hurried towards Sandra and the waiting SUV. The tracker had vanished but she felt confident she would run into it again somewhere on the way back.
She failed to complete her mission. She almost had the medallion, but with all the magical interference and the enemy now aware of her, she wouldn’t get another chance, not tonight at least. They needed a new strategy and Jeremiah needed to be more upfront with her. Evelynn found it hard to believe he didn’t know what she might encounter in the deep woods of British Columbia. When she returned to the estate, she would have plenty to say to him.
***
Crouching amongst the trees, Falconer watched the woman escape his swarm of birds. His bottom lip throbbed and he probably needed stitches. Blood covered his chin and was smeared along his right cheek. His jaw ached as did his left thumb and his shirt was splattered with crimson drops. He doubted he had the stamina left to attempt a flight to the nearest hospital even if he knew where it was, which he didn’t.
Taking the medallion out from under his shirt, it began emitting a soft white light, then flashed brightly several times before returning to its dormant state. “Thank you, my friends,” Falconer whispered.
The birds flying around the camp and gathered on the surrounding branches dispersed into the night. He had to let them go. There were too many to maintain influence over and he would eventually fail from the exertion it took just to try. He needed his strength to find his way out of here alive.
His decision to forgo his trip to the Amazon in order to assist his former mentor turned out to be the correct one. James was safe and his medallion secure from the clutches of the enemy whose face he had now seen. And when he saw her again, he would extract his revenge for what she did here tonight.
The fire was going out, the rain trying to extinguish his source of warmth. Cold settling into his bones from his wet clothes, he moved closer to the fire to make use of what little heat there still was. Approaching the sputtering flames, he saw the large body of Castle lying on the other side.
Falconer established a connection with the dog just a few hours ago. Mastering the abilities of his medallion allowed for communication with most animals on a rudimentary level, even those outside the medallion’s specific domain. It was especially easy if the animal happened to be domesticated since its interaction with human beings was already established. The dog had sought him out after sensing Falconer’s presence through his exposure to James’s medallion. He considered it fortunate to have met the dog of the boy he was sent to find. It made his task much easier to complete with Castle appreciating the stakes involved. Without his help, convincing James to come with him would have taken longer to accomplish and they may have lost the fight before they even began. The leather-clad woman could have intercepted them before they reached Micah. Who knows what might have transpired if she had.
Seeing Castle lying there brought to mind his own loss this night. Riff, his partner and friend, never returned from her reconnaissance. Rubbing the leather glove covering his lower right arm, he felt the empty recess in his mind where the essence of his friend used to be. The connection they shared was broken; the only reason for it was death. He wished he was wrong but his guts ached knowing that he wasn’t. He suspected the woman or an associate of hers had something to do with it.
Falconer stared through the sputtering flames at the corpse of the German shepherd. He was unsure whether he should take the time to bury him or leave him as is. The woman in pursuit of James’s medallion was now aware of his and lingering here gave her a chance to regroup and return with others in order to take it from him. She had witnessed his power and would be better prepared the next time they crossed paths.
The rainfall lessened, the canopy of leaves sheltering him from what was left of the showers. Falconer knew he couldn’t afford the time it would take to bury Castle. The threat remained, his medallion still at risk. He would have to depart immediately and return to the jeep.
Getting up to start the journey back, he heard a sound that froze him in place. He stared at Castle, the dog continuing to whimper in pain. With events unfolding as fast as they did, he neglected to check the dog’s condition assuming he died from the assassin’s bullet. He hadn’t exhibited any signs of life until now.
“Castle! You’re alive!” Overjoyed by the prospect, he forced aside the rush of guilt tainting the moment due to his incorrect assumption. His energy renewed, Falconer levitated over the campfire and landed by the injured dog’s side. Castle raised his head but his wound prevented him from doing much else.
Falconer ran his hand along the dog. “Hang in there, fella.” Offering more words of encouragement, he searched for the bullet’s entry point. Castle had been struck in the right shoulder, the bullet rending flesh and shattering bone. The ground where he lay was dark, the blood still oozing from the gunshot wound.
His initial joy at finding Castle alive faded quickly as he was confronted by the fact he hadn’t the tools or the knowhow to save the dog. All he could really do was provide some comfort while the animal’s life drained out into the dirt. Choosing to stay put his life on the line, but he couldn’t leave Castle to die alone in the middle of nowhere. If the woman returned, so be it, but he wouldn’t leave the dog’s side. He could, however, take some precautions.
Standing up, Falconer touched his medallion’s silver core. Castle reacted to his movements by attempting to get up but promptly ceased his struggles. He stared up at Falconer, his breath coming in short, rattling wheezes.
“Stay still, Castle.” Though the flames had diminished, it was bright enough to see the fear etched into the injured dog’s eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Falconer closed his eyes. “I am in need of some help,” he said to the night. The medallion glowed as light streamed through the charred cracks. His request was soon answered by the call of an owl from a nearby tree. An owl’s image formed over the medallion’s core, the likeness fading, then reappearing within the uppermost circle on the face of the medallion.
&nb
sp; “Thank you, friend. I need eyes in the sky to warn of anyone approaching who would do us harm, particularly one who is a female of my kind,” Falconer said. Letting out a series of hoots, the owl went off to keep watch.
Falconer sat down beside the wounded dog. The plan Micah laid out had worked for the most part. James was safe with the shaman and away from those seeking his medallion. However, the woman did know of this spot and Falconer was sure she would return at some point. Her quarry disappeared somewhere around here, and if he were her, wouldn’t he come back to search the area by daylight?
He gazed at Castle. Touching the canine’s head, he could tell he had slipped back into unconsciousness by the shallow breathing. Spending the next minutes dismantling the camp, Falconer tore down the tent, tossed the excess firewood onto the flames and gathered up any trash left behind during Micah’s brief stay within the clearing. Throwing everything onto the fire, he watched the blaze surge upwards.
A pair of greenish-white lights came towards the camp from deep within the woods. Above him, the owl called out. Falconer extended his right arm, and soon after, the owl he commissioned to watch over him landed on his glove.
Having just met, Falconer didn’t have a rapport with his new friend and had trouble deciphering what it tried relaying to him. Eventually, he got the gist of the message the Great Grey Owl attempted to communicate. “Horse spirits, huh?” He had heard of such things appearing in times of need. His grandfather mentioned them in stories when he sat on the old man’s knee as a child. Perhaps there was some truth to those tales his ancestors recited.
The owl flew off as Falconer watched the approaching pale green shimmers. Placing a hand on Castle, he ran his fingers along the matted fur.
“No!” His attention shifted to the dog on the ground. Castle was no longer breathing. “You poor, poor fella.” Fatigue suddenly took a hold of him. “You’ll pay for what you did, you witch,” Falconer said quietly. “I swear you will.”
