The Prophecy

by Karen MacLeod-Wilkie

  Once they arrived at their destination, she got to work while the others set the scene. Carefully, she administered a drop under each one’s tongue and wove her way through their memories. She felt disgust ooze through her at the actual memories she encountered. She shuddered as she finally disengaged from the fourth man’s mind. She sent sufficient delta waves into each one to keep them asleep for another hour. That would give the group time to get well away. She didn’t dare make it any longer; they hadn’t drunk enough to have passed out for too long.

  Gerarda guided them along a short cut back to the caves. It wasn’t an identifiable trail and Gerarda instructed Rebel to cover their tracks as he took up the rear. Rebel did as he was told, although soft muttering about the unfairness of life could be heard as he worked.

  Within twenty minutes, they were back at the previous picnic area. From there, they hiked up the final leg to the caves. Tiny openings for birds or small animals interspersed most of the cliff face. A few larger cuts into the rock were so narrow as to be impassable. A tumble of rocks covered most of a larger cave’s entrance, making it look uninviting. Rebel scooted ahead and clambered up the rocks. Crouching and turning sideways, he crab-walked his way inside and disappeared from their view.

  Brigid and Treena looked at each other’s tall frames and Quillon’s extra girth, thanks to his disguise as Quin, and wondered how they were going to successfully navigate the entrance.

  Gerarda intercepted their looks and smiled. “Just follow me. It’s deceptively small, but as soon as you step a foot in and make a dogleg to the left, you’ll be able to stand to your full height in a good-sized cavern. It’ll hold all of us. Keep alert. I have two sentries inside. I wouldn’t want them to startle you. Rebel will have warned them we’re coming in.”

  Treena offered to guard the rear as the others followed Gerarda. All was quiet as they made their way inside. The entrance was as Gerarda had described. However, she hadn’t told them how beautiful the cavern would be. Soft light filtered from glowing rocks placed at intervals along the cave’s walls and was reflected in stalagmites and stalactites. The sentries nodded as Treena finally stepped in. They silently slid into darkened fissures to resume their guard.

  Brigid slowly turned around in amazement.

  Evander said, “This place is incredible.” He stepped over to one of the lights. “How do they work?”

  “Some of our people are gifted in bringing out stored light in stones such as fluorite,” Gerarda said. “We use them to illuminate our cave dwellings rather than bringing in electricity that could be traced.”

  “We’d best get on with our meeting as we’ll need to hike out of here before dark,” said Quillon.

  As Treena turned to follow him, the sword on her back brushed against one of the lights. A distinct sharp chime sounded through the air and the red jasper in the hilt of her sword glowed briefly.

  She gasped, “What’s going on?”

  A fanciful look crossed Gerarda’s stern face. “There’s a prophecy the dwarf elders have passed on to each generation. We were taught to memorize it when we were children:

  When the stone and metal we wield turn against us, retreat.

  When a connector reaches across the barrier, unite.

  When the stones fly and confusion comes, remain strong.

  When the sword sounds and the stone burns bright,

  the time for action has arrived.”

  “I wonder if our knives will chime as well?” said Brigid.

  Treena, Brigid, and Evander drew out their knives which were also set in red jasper. They held them to the lights and the same sharp sound echoed through the chamber as the jasper glowed.

  “Cool!” Rebel blurted out.

  Evander cleared his throat and said, “Signs are coalescing that seem to indicate we have work to do together. We have a different prophecy which has led us here. Perhaps we can move to a more comfortable location to share it with you?”

  “I’m eager to hear it,” Gerarda said. “However, before we lead you deeper into our caves, you’ll be blindfolded for the safety of our people. Once blindfolded, I will pass a length of rope between you. Hold onto the rope and listen for my guidance. If any of you go astray, Rebel will nudge you back on the path. There’s no danger, but we ask for your trust.”

  Symba stepped forward first. “You have it, Gerarda. Let’s begin.”

  Bands of dark cloth were used to quickly cover their eyes and the rope was stretched between them. They moved forward along various passageways which gradually led downward. After ten minutes of walking, Gerarda called a halt and invited them to remove their blindfolds.

  They were in a spacious room with walls covered in quilted tapestries. A large round stone table was in the center of the room, surrounded by woven rope chairs with brightly colored cushions. Refreshments were on the table and Gerarda invited them to be seated. Treena noted discreet guards standing in niches around the room.

  Rebel leaned into the table to grab a bunch of grapes and Gerarda swiped his hand away. “Let our guests select their food first.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I’m starving.”

  Brigid smiled; he sounded so much like her brother at a similar age. She turned to Gerarda. “He reminds me of my brother, Asa. Perhaps we could all dig in. I suspect we’re all hungry after our adventures together.” She immediately began to fill a plate.

  Rebel looked at his mother who gave a long-suffering sigh and nodded her head.

  “Now that your plate is full, off you go. We have things to discuss,” said Gerarda, waving him away.

  “I want to stay and hear what they have to say,” Rebel insisted. “I helped back there. It’s only fair.”

  “This is not about being fair,” said Gerarda. “This is about security and matters beyond you.”

  “You mean like the surveillance plans you have from Fort Walsh? Or piles of our people moving deeper into the cave networks, leaving their jobs and homes outside?” said Rebel, his hands in fists on his hips. “If this has to do with us being hunted, then this matters to me too.”

  “Rebel!”

  “They took Dad when he went up north on that business trip last month. I don’t want to lose you too! I need to know what’s going on.”

  Evander and Quillon looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

  “Gerarda, we realize this is difficult and very personal for you. What Rebel is stating is very true. As things are ramping up, not just adults but all ages need to know what’s happening and learn precautions,” said Quillon.

  He turned to Rebel. “That doesn’t mean you’ll get to carelessly put yourself into risky situations like today, young man. However, we do need you to be informed and prepared for events that are unfolding, so you can support the work your mother is doing and follow her command.”

  Gerarda’s jaw and hands were clenched.

  Brigid reached out to place her hand over Gerarda’s hands. “I can feel how much you each want to protect one another. I sense the power of fear like a deep well inside you. Fear can be helpful to guide us, but it can also overwhelm and disempower us if we let it take charge. I’m a healer. As you saw with the men in the picnic area, I have gifts I can share. Do I have your permission to ease your fear?”

  Gerarda remained tense. She looked to Quillon. “I don’t know these people you’ve brought with you, although I’m grateful for the assistance they’ve offered so far. You and I have worked together over a year. We’ve built trust. Can I trust this woman?”

  Quillon looked directly into Gerarda’s eyes. “Yes. You saw some of what Brigid can do. She works with integrity and care. She won’t do anything to harm you.”

  Gerarda nodded stiffly and said, “Okay. Proceed.”

  Brigid explained, “I’m going to work within your spirit on that well of fear. You’ll sense my presence and see the images I offer. If you want to stop at any point, just squeeze my hand. You’re in charge of this experience. I’ll respond to your wish
es.”

  Gerarda gave Brigid a hard stare and then offered her hand. Brigid gently took it and began to ease into a spiritual connection with her. Brigid imagined emptying buckets of peace and trust into the well of fear inside Gerarda. She let the peace flow over the earlier experience Gerarda had survived and the fear Gerarda felt that her husband might be lost to her. Brigid pictured the well becoming shallower. She could see Gerarda’s jaw and muscles gradually relaxing.

  Gerarda drew in and released a deep shuddering breath. “I feel easier. I’m okay,” she said, squeezing Brigid’s hand. “You can stop now.”

  Brigid inquired if she could offer a similar treatment for Rebel and Gerarda agreed.

  Brigid asked Rebel, “Do I have your permission to help you release your fear?”

  He looked curious and nodded.

  “Think about the things you’re most afraid of right now. Let all those thoughts and feelings flow through you and into me,” Brigid instructed as she placed her hand over his.

  Gently, she began to siphon off the torrent of Rebel’s fears—those based on real memories and imagined threats to his family and life as he knew it. Gradually, the tension in the room dissipated.

  “Any time either of you feel that fear rising up and overwhelming you, picture what we did today. Choose to move toward trust and courage to keep going, as you let the power of the fear drain away.”

  “Thank you, Brigid,” said Gerarda. “We needed you today. Quin didn’t share much in his contact, only that a meeting was urgent. Perhaps we’re ready to hear what you have to share now. And yes, Rebel, you can stay.” Gerarda patted a seat next to her.

  “There have been new developments and we needed to meet face to face to share them with you,” Quillon started. “As you know, the majority of fairies left the Human Earth and moved to another realm a few centuries ago. They established a portal between the worlds, through which a priest travelled once every decade to maintain contact between the fairies in the two realms. Three months ago, the priest for this decade was captured as he passed through the portal. Two months ago, another priest and a guard came to our world. They too were taken. Four nights ago, Brigid, Evander, and Treena successfully evaded the military unit at the portal.”

  “You’re from the Fairy Realm?” said Rebel who squirmed in his seat with excitement.

  “Yes, we are,” Evander replied. “We were specially chosen because of a prophecy we have in our land. It was shared only with our priests, our Elite Guard, and the monarch.”

  “Can you tell it to us?”

  Evander looked at the others, who nodded their agreement. He recited from memory:

  “When the Healer rises and the Priest falls,

  the time of prophecy arrives.

  When the Sword gleams to protect the Scroll-Bearer,

  the prophecy will strengthen.

  When the Rock trips the Dancer,

  the prophecy moves forward.

  When the Player seeks the Mind,

  the prophecy will be empowered.

  Together strong. Apart broken.

  Cross and mend. Begin again.”

  When he finished, Gerarda said, “The sword is mentioned in both our prophecies.”

  “I noticed that too,” said Evander. “When our priests didn’t return, I was chosen as the Scroll-Bearer. I travelled to meet a special healer, Brigid, and on the way met Treena, whose sword shone as she raised it to protect me. Through the years, there has been much debate about the meaning of the prophecy. It came to a head when everything pointed to its being enacted. It was our hope that it represented a healing of the rift between fairies and humans. When we arrived, we discovered the situation is much more complex than we’d anticipated.”

  “We met Quin and Sheila,” said Brigid, struggling to make sure she used their code names, “and they became part of our team. They shared what they’ve been facing here, so in a sense we’re part of their team also. In our Realm, we weren’t aware of the existence of other races like yours.”

  “You didn’t know about dwarfs?” Rebel’s face expressed his incredulousness.

  “Nope. Nor shapeshifters nor anyone else,” said Treena. “Only fairies live in our land. The stories we heard were about humans and how they’d persecuted our people in the past. Our ancestors neglected to pass on information about other races and how you’ve been suffering too.”

  “Is red jasper part of all your swords and knives?” Gerarda asked.

  “Is what?” Treena looked puzzled. “They’re made of steel.”

  “The deep red stone in the hilts—that’s jasper.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know its name. Yes, all the Protector’s Forces’ weapons have this stone in the hilt. It has been the custom since the first Force was founded. The first Protector had one in his sword which came from this world. It was a gift from a friend before he crossed over. It helped us feel connected to the past and to the fairies on this side of the portal.”

  “I wonder if that friend was a dwarf and not a fairy. Jasper is a stone used to bring courage to face unpleasant tasks and to rectify unjust situations. It also stimulates stamina and endurance. The gift may have been offered to support the fairies who chose to leave,” said Gerarda.

  “If the three of them crossed the barrier, does that mean we’re supposed to unite with them?” Rebel asked his mother.

  “That seems to be the message, but we’ll see how matters unfold.”

  Evander interjected, “We believe at least one of those who crossed before us may still be alive. Quin told us about your surveillance of military posts and some of the rescue attempts that have been carried out.”

  “Last night, Evander shared with me that each priest who crossed would have carried a map naming fairy contacts or their businesses. Evander showed me his map and we started cross-checking with my lists,” said Quillon. “The news is not good. The military must have confiscated a map when they captured the priests earlier. Many have gone missing. Businesses have closed. We felt it urgent to check in with you to find out what you know and see if we can work together.”

  Rebel squirmed in his seat as his mother replied.

  “More of our people have been identified through their work with stone and metal; thus, many have sought refuge here. But we’ve also noticed fairy disappearances increasing over the past six weeks. Quin, you’ve been working as a connector between all of our races. Now, perhaps you three are part of the dwarf prophecy also.”

  Gerarda stood and walked to one of the tapestries on the wall. She drew it aside. Behind was a large map. She showed them the location of Fort Walsh, a few hours east of Greenberg. Then, she pointed to an area between Queensville and Greenberg.

  “This is a large military research hospital where the Wheadon Ranch lands used to be. Old Man Wheadon didn’t have any close relatives who wanted to follow in his footsteps, so when the military offered to buy up his ranch last year, he was eager to sell. The renovations and construction were completed two months ago. I had an informant on the work crew, and he told me they built a fifty-bed research center with barracks for over a hundred personnel to live on site. The security installed was top of the line and only military experts were allowed near it.

  “I have another operative who took over once construction work was completed. She operates a food delivery vehicle which, for the last two weeks, has provided fresh vegetables to the facility every two days. They’re now fully operational.”

  “Is it the only such facility in this area?” asked Treena as she walked over to look more closely at the map.

  “No. There used to be modest sized health centers in villages and small towns, like Morristown. As the research initiative grew and the military got more involved, those centers were easily adapted. Supposedly, emergency health care is still being offered to the populations in each area, but research is definitely being conducted. You have to be sure of your heritage when you go in, because if anything shows up, you’ll become a test subject.”

/>   “Rescues from those centers were the easiest to carry out,” said Quillon.

  “Do you have any idea where our people may have been detained?” Evander asked.

  “Initially, they would have been assessed in a secure wing of the center in Morristown, because it was closest to the portal. Now, if they’ve survived whatever testing they’ve undergone, I suspect they’ll have been installed at the Wheadon Ranch facility,” said Gerarda.

  “What are your current plans?” asked Treena, leaning against the wall.

  “We need to find my dad,” said Rebel as he jumped up from his seat.

  “He’s one of many we’re trying to trace.” Gerarda placed a calming hand on Rebel’s shoulder.

  “We’re continuing to gather intel on who’s located in each facility in this region. This morning, I received a message from a source who informed us a transfer is to take place in two days.”

  Gerarda pointed to another spot on the map, north of Greenberg.

  “Test subjects from High River are going to be moved to the Wheadon Ranch. My tactical team is beginning to plan a rescue effort. It’s time to take action.”

  “Do you know how many or who the subjects are?” asked Treena, pacing back to her chair.

  “My source indicated two dwarfs, three fairies, and one shapeshifter are listed for transfer. No names were given; the military depersonalizes them by assigning them numbers with only a D, F, or S in front of the number to identify which race they represent—or M for mixed race.”

  “How large a convoy would they typically send?” Treena’s fingers tapped the table as she worked to visualize the scene.

  “At least three trucks. They’ll mix them up and put two per truck with at least one driver, one guard with the captives, and an additional gunner beside the driver,” said Rebel, standing tall and proud to share the information.