by Forthright
The sun vanished behind a cloud.
The air filled with an ominous tension.
The doe took another step. And vanished.
Onto Something
“You’ve got to see this.”
Josheb followed, asking, “How far did you go?”
“Not far.” Caleb waved a hand. “Alongside the river.”
“Really? I was all through this area. Never saw a thing.”
Caleb offered a rambling description of the movement of figments, ending with the disappearance of the doe. To his own ears, it sounded implausible, but his brother’s eyes took on a shine.
“Didn’t you follow?” Josheb demanded.
“Isn’t that your job?”
“Every time. So how much farther?”
Caleb waved at the low column. “We’re here.”
“Where?”
Edging closer to the relic, he pointed, his finger mere inches from its surface. “This. Here. Is it invisible?”
“Not exactly.” Josheb narrowed his eyes. “I see a shrub.”
“Give me your hand.”
Switching Nessie’s leash to his other hand, Josheb grabbed hold. “Still shrubbery,” he reported.
Caleb was confused enough to reach for the plinth, which was reassuringly solid under his hand—cool, rough, and responsive. It thrummed, almost like a purring cat. Grabbing Josheb’s wrist, he pulled his brother into contact.
“Whoa. I see a shrub, but I’m touching stone. This is brain-breaking. Possibly also breaking news.” Josheb passed along the leash and explored the column, eyes shut. “Talk about effective camouflage. Is it the same as the one you took pictures of before?”
“Almost exactly. The color of the crystal is different, but it has the same glowing lines.”
“Is it just me, or is there a wall here?”
“Is there?” Caleb couldn’t see one, but when he reached for the area Josheb was pushing against, his hand passed through something odd. There was definitely some resistance. It clung strangely to his skin, so he quickly pulled back. But not before Josheb noticed the difference in their rate of success.
“Mystical barrier, confirmed. So who put it here?”
Caleb supposed that was the big question. “Can’t be the figments.”
“Maybe all those itty-bitty figments have bigger, badder buddies.” Josheb shot him a gleeful look. “Hey, maybe …!”
“Please, don’t say aliens.”
Josheb grinned. “I’m not saying it out loud, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t our technology.”
“What about magic?”
“And you’re a wizard?” teased Josheb.
“How else are we going to explain this?”
“For starters, we need more facts. Is there a way past this?”
“Haven’t tired.” Caleb was already cringing, because he knew what his brother was about to say.
Josheb met every expectation with one word. “Try!”
You First
“What do you think?” Caleb asked Nessie.
She had been snuffling and sneezing among the stones at the base of the pillar, as if intrigued by the scents she’d found there. With a tug of her leash, Caleb tried to guide her past the column, but she balked, sitting flat on her rump and refusing to budge.
“You’ll have to go in.” Josheb fished in his pockets, coming out with a ball of string.
“What are you, a boy scout?” It was a weak attempt at diversion. It didn’t work.
“This has come in handy for more things than you can imagine.” Pulling a length free, he tied the end around Caleb’s ankle.
“You know, they used to do this with priests before they entered the Holy of Holies.”
Josheb shot him an amused look.
“A rope and bells,” he clarified, setting aside his camera. “Because if the bells stopped, they’d know it was time to pull out the body.”
“The moral of the story: don’t mess with God on holy ground. You going in barefoot?”
Caleb muttered, “I’d rather not go in at all.”
“Easy does it, bro. The bush isn’t burning. It isn’t even a bush.” Patting the column, Josheb added, “Take a quick look, then peace on out of there.”
“Trade you?”
Josheb’s expression turned wry. “Any day of the week. But we’re working with what we’ve got.”
“Come with me?”
“We can try.” Josheb knotted Nessie’s leash around the column, stood, and they locked wrists. “You first. Pull me through if you can.”
Caleb brushed his fingers against the barrier, then pushed through. It was a little like water, but without any temperature difference. He turned sideways and eased his whole arm through, thinking he could poke his nose through for a quick peek. But the barrier didn’t cooperate with that plan. As if to prevent dawdling, it pushed out and engulfed him, although it stopped short at Josheb’s hand.
Pulling didn’t change the barrier’s mind.
With a small squeeze Josheb loosened his hold.
Caleb didn’t let him slip free, though the barrier fizzed unhappily around the breech. His gaze darted around skittishly, half expecting to find himself face to face with a monster. But the forward view wasn’t much different from the forest that lay at his back. Same trees. Same river. Same hush. The only thing that stood out was another stone. It was different from the crystal-topped columns: larger, rounded, with holes pocking its mossy surface. But glowing lines traced patterns all over the thing. So it had to be special. Somehow.
Josheb’s hand shifted. He was checking Caleb’s pulse.
Nothing in this new clearing seemed dangerous, so Caleb scraped together the gumption to give a goodbye squeeze and slip free. With every step, he felt string tugging at his ankle. It was embarrassing to find it so reassuring.
He used his phone to snap a couple of pictures of the new rock.
The glowing lines didn’t pick up. If only he’d brought his field journal. He thought he could replicate the patterns on paper, given enough time.
A faint whirr of wings caught his attention, and an insect circled his head a few times. He ducked and tried to wave it away, and it dropped onto the stone. Against the rich green of the moss, the bug mostly looked like a shaggy white bee. Pollen clung to its paws, and its faceted eyes sparkled like gems that were the same starry blue as the stripes along its back.
Figment. Definitely a figment. It looked at him, feelers twitching, before scurrying into one of the nearest holes. A heartbeat later, a hum started somewhere inside the stone. Was it hollow?
All at once, they began streaming from every orifice. Bee thingies spiraled up, and a high-pitched chirping emanated from the swarm.
Caleb backed away, stepped on the string, and landed on his rump.
The din rose in pitch and urgency, and the figments dove. The first one struck his chest. Another hit his shoulder. Something landed in his hair. Scrambling onto his knees, Caleb found his feet and bolted. He burst through the barrier, narrowly avoiding Josheb, but they followed, funneling through the barrier as if his passage had left an opening. It was decreasing in size, but not quickly enough to stop the sparkling swarm from following.
“What happened?” called Josheb.
“Bugs!” Caleb ran for it, but he reached the end of his tether. The string at his ankle sent him sprawling.
“I can’t see anything!” complained Josheb, when he caught up. “How am I supposed to help if I can’t … dang.”
Caleb writhed miserably under the swarm’s onslaught. “Get them off,” he moaned.
Josheb swore. Hauling Caleb to his feet, he all but dragged him through the woods.
Feels Bad
Caleb wasn’t the kind of guy to jump from any height. Especially into strange waters that could be too shallow or hiding dangerous rocks. But when Josheb hustled him to the verge, Caleb grabbed his nose and stepped off.
Staying under, Caleb flicked his hands through his hair and a
long his limbs, urgent to rid himself of passengers. When he surfaced, Josheb was already there, swiping water from his face.
“Are you stung?” he asked urgently. “Bitten?”
“Don’t think so.” Caleb’s feet touched, but he stayed low in the water, one wary eye on the sky.
Grabbing him by the shoulders, Josheb made his own reconnoiter, then steered Caleb closer to the steep bank they’d plunged from. “Stay put until they’re gone. Then head to camp and get dry. I’ll go back for Nessie.”
They’d left her? What kind of person abandoned their pet in bear territory? “Sorry,” he said glumly. “Poor Nessie. Please, hurry?”
“As long as you’re good …?”
“Yeah. Fine. Really. Go.” Caleb sank to his chin in the water while his brother sloshed up the bank and disappeared from view. His heart still hammered, but good sense was returning. The figments hadn’t harmed him. None ever had, for all their oddness. Yet he’d panicked, and now there were consequences.
Josheb had to be unimpressed.
Their clothes and boots were soaked.
Nessie probably felt abandoned.
With a groan of regret, he extracted his phone from his back pocket. Would he be able to retrieve the pictures he’d taken so far? With one last long look, he left the cool river water and squelched uphill. “Why me?” he sighed.
Staggering into camp, he dragged off sodden clothes.
Holy ground or no, he was barefoot now. And a complete tenderfoot.
Finger-combing his hair, he gave up on the day, crawled into the tent, and curled up under both sleeping bags to wait for Josheb’s return.
A hand gripped his shoulder. “Caleb. Hey. Wake up.”
He hadn’t expected to fall asleep. Was it dark already? “Why’d you let me sleep?” he mumbled.
“She’s gone.”
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry.” There was a rigidity to Josheb’s posture, a directness to his gaze. He’d always been the kind of guy who owned up to his mistakes. “I’m really sorry, and I need your help. She’s always liked you better. Maybe if she hears you calling …?”
“Nessie’s gone?”
“Yeah. I’ve been trying to track her, but it’s getting too dark.”
Caleb was thinking more clearly now, and he didn’t like their options. Nessie was important, but so was his brother. Josheb looked exhausted. Pressing his hand to clammy skin, Caleb snapped, “You’re freezing!”
Josheb only grunted.
“Get out of those wet clothes. I’ll get the fire going again.”
His younger brother quietly reminded, “I can’t find Nessie.”
As if Caleb didn’t know what that could mean. But they had to go about this the right way. “If you get sick, we’re sunk. What kind of survivalist wanders around in wet clothes? Even I know that’s bad news.”
“But …!”
“I want to find Nessie, too. But not without dry clothes. And you probably need to eat. We skipped lunch.”
“You’re right.” Josheb was shamefaced.
“Yes, I’m right.” Caleb fished in his own bag for something to wear. “It’s strange, though. Usually, Nessie finds me no matter where I am. I mean … she’s a bloodhound.”
Josheb tossed his wet shirt outside. “Your camera was gone, too.”
“What?” Caleb remembered putting it down. He’d been worried the barrier would mess with his film.
“Your camera was gone, and I think whoever took it took Nessie.” For once, Josheb looked troubled rather than tantalized. “We’re not alone out here.”
Stay Put
“Is it smart to try this at night?” asked Caleb.
“No.”
“Do you want to wait for daylight?”
Josheb twisted his hair into a knot atop his head before shoving a stocking cap over it. “No.”
Caleb pulled on a heavy hoodie. It might be summer, but the damp and their drenching had chilled them both. Which was all the more noticeable because the winds were whipping up. “Is it going to rain?”
Light flickered along the edges of clouds, and an ominous rumble echoed in the distance. Josheb’s jaw clenched. “It’s going to storm.”
“Got it.” Caleb moved to get the fire restarted. “I’m boiling water before it does.”
“I’ll add a tarp.”
Caleb fed kindling to the fire to hurry along the big kettle, which he refused to watch lest it never boil. Instead, he kept an eye on Josheb, who checked tent pegs and stretched a sloping tarp to divert the worst of the rainfall.
He was just topping off Josheb’s thermos when the first raindrops hissed into the embers of his fire. Focusing determinedly on his task, Caleb tipped in powdered orange drink before securing the cap. It was one of Josheb’s favorites—or used to be—and his brother needed the vitamin boost. And the sugar.
Back inside the tent, Caleb handed it over. “Drink it all.”
Josheb breathed in the steam, smiled ruefully, and took a careful sip. “How’s your phone?” he asked.
“Dead. Yours?”
“Fine. Mine’s waterproof. What about the field journal?”
For once, Caleb’s caution would be appreciated. “Left it under my pillow. I’ve been updating it from notecards. Seemed safer.”
“Turns out you’re right.” Josheb quietly added, “Sorry.”
“I thought you’d be more excited, given the things we’ve found.” Hugging his thermos, he asked, “Isn’t this what you were after?”
“No! Well, yes. But … aren’t you mad at me?”
Caleb had been afraid, was still afraid, at least for Nessie’s sake. Usually, his brother was the one to brazen through the scrapes they found themselves in. But for the first time, Josheb seemed afraid. Of Caleb.
“I’m not blaming you,” he said gruffly. “I’m worried. And embarrassed. All the work we did has been undone. But maybe that was the point.”
Josheb’s expression went blank, then sharpened. “You think it was intentional?”
Caleb doubted anyone could have planned for him blundering past a barrier. It wasn’t as if they’d sprung a trap. “I think someone could have seized an opportunity. And our evidence.”
“And Nessie.”
Thunder crashed, and rain rattled against the tent with every gust of wind. Caleb’s heart sank, but it was useless to search for their dog on such a night. He was the responsible brother. The one who used his head. He needed to give Josheb permission to give up. For now. “We’ll get her back tomorrow. Together.”
Small Comfort
Caleb couldn’t get to sleep. Partly because he could tell that Josheb wasn’t. And there was a distinct possibility that if Caleb dropped off, his brother would sneak out. So he had no choice but to keep watch. Not for bigfoot, or whatever threat awaited them. But over Josheb, who loved Nessie more than he liked to let on.
Rolling onto his other side, Caleb said, “You didn’t find anything bad.” He was comforting himself as much as his brother. “No blood? No signs of a scuffle?”
“Yeah. Nothing like that.” Josheb’s next words came slowly. “I’d fastened her leash around that column. Someone unclipped it and led her away.”
“Someone that the others mistook for bigfoot?”
Josheb snorted.
“If anything’s possible, and you do tend to believe in anything, then you have to admit that it’s possible that Nessie’s fine.”
“I thought you’d be frantic.”
“You’ve got it covered.”
Josheb punched his shoulder.
Caleb asked, “When will it be light enough?”
“Four, if the storm passes.”
“Two more hours. Let’s catch a nap, then do what we have to do.”
“Can’t sleep,” Josheb grumbled.
“It’s easy.” And because he knew it would help more than it would embarrass him, Caleb said, “Want to know my secret?”
“I know your secret.”
> “You know the big one. I have little ones.”
After a long beat, Josheb asked, “Yeah?”
He sounded so hopeful. He sounded gullible. But while Caleb often refrained from mentioning things to his brother, he’d never lied to Josheb. “There’s a reason I live in the highest loft I could find.”
“Distancing yourself from nature?”
“No.” Caleb could feel a blush coming on. “I was trying to close a distance. The higher I am, the better I can hear them.”
“Figments?”
“Nooo. At least, I don’t think so. Figments have tiny voices.”
Josheb fumbled in the dark, and Caleb reached back. His brother’s hand was too cold.
After a few moments, Josheb whispered, “I don’t hear anything but rain.”
“Listening with your ears doesn’t work.” This was so hard to explain. “They’re singing, and I can hear them.”
“But not with your ears.”
“It’s more like … umm ….” He trailed off, feeling vulnerable. The songs had always been his secret, too precious to share. “Look, I don’t know how it works.”
Scooting closer to lock arms, Josheb said, “Doesn’t matter, as long as it works.”
Talk about a childlike faith.
“Okay.” Caleb cleared his throat. “Sometimes, I think they know I’m listening. And then they sing for me. Maybe if I’m listening for you, it’ll carry over …?”
“Someone sings for you? Are we talking angel chorus, here?”
“That makes as much sense as anything.” He sheepishly added, “I guess I’ve always imagined it’s the stars.”
Caleb focused on the melodies he’d learned to love. The voices were closer than usual, which may have had something to do with the elevation. Or maybe the stars that shone more brightly away from city lights also sang more sweetly.
It wasn’t hearing so much as feeling. Like the song was aimed for his heart instead of his ears. Caleb found most figments to be pests, but this … this had always been his personal proof that humans must have a soul.
Just a little. Let me share this.
If that counted as a prayer, it was answered. He knew the moment his brother figured out how to listen.