Call It Magic

by Janet Chapman

  “Everyone clear on that?” Jake’s voice broke through the fog of Katy’s thoughts.

  She startled and glanced around her. Everyone nodded and prepared to head out. Great. She’d missed the instructions. She and her promise were off to a wonderful start.

  With a huff of exasperation, she turned and spotted Gunnar working his way through the crowd. Relief swept through her, made her realize why she’d felt so unsteady. His presence was exactly what she needed. Together, they could find the kids, she just knew it.

  “Gunnar,” she called out.

  He glanced up and caught her eye. He held his smile in check, she knew, but she felt it warm her nonetheless. In a few quick strides, he stood at her side. He reached out and squeezed her hand, then put on his business face. “Ready to move out?” he said.

  Katy nodded, finally feeling like all of her systems were set to go. “Glad you’re here.”

  Satisfaction warmed his features. “Couldn’t be anywhere else. Any ideas about where they might have gone?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been wracking my brain, but no. I say we pick a horse trail and head out. I don’t think I can see Shiloh venturing too far off the beaten path. He’s not exactly an adventurous kid.”

  “Makes sense. Though your cousins might be leading the charge, yes? Something tells me they’re a little more confident in the woods.”

  Katy’s heart sank. She hadn’t thought of that. The twins were not shy about exploring and taking risks. How could they be, given their lineage?

  “Good point,” she said. “Let’s start with the horse trail but be on the lookout for signs they went elsewhere.”

  Gunnar nodded and off they went, one of at least a dozen groups of searchers, all crunching through the brush and calling the boys’ names. Within minutes, however, Katy and Gunnar had isolated themselves, and the hushed, insulated feel of the woods kicked her nerves into high gear. Already the other searchers’ voices faded, the leaves and brush swallowing sounds as soon as they appeared.

  “You okay?” Gunnar’s feet fell into rhythm with hers.

  “Yep. Can’t be anything else.”

  “Agreed. And we’ll find them, Katy. You know these boys. You know how they think.”

  “I thought I did, but I sure didn’t see this coming. I mean, I arranged this little meeting of the boys’ club. You’d think it would occur to me that they might actually act like boys.”

  He clasped her shoulder with a warm hand. “Like you said, Shiloh’s not really an ‘outside the lines’ type of kid. I wouldn’t have expected this, either.”

  Katy reached up to lay her hand atop his. A tingle rolled across her skin, like a laser fusing their flesh together. She closed her eyes, enjoying for a few short seconds before pulling her hand back. More of that later, she promised herself as he put his own hand back in his pocket. For now, they had other things to focus on.

  Several yards ahead, she spotted a signpost at the trail fork, its carved yellow letters visible but not readable just yet. As she squinted into the distance, trying to figure in advance which way they should go, a memory burst like a flashbulb in her brain. She’s seen a sign like that not too long ago, when she and Gunnar and Shiloh had been trying to walk their way out of the woods. When they’d seen Telos.

  I wish I knew where to find him.

  Shiloh’s voice filled her mind, a pitch-perfect replica of how he’d sounded that day. They’d been a quarter of a mile from the fjord when Telos had appeared. Of course that’s where he’d go if he wanted to find the eagle.

  “I’ve got it.” She stopped and turned to Gunnar.

  “You know where they are?”

  Katy nodded. “Pretty sure Shiloh went in search of Telos.”

  His brows lowered, creasing the bridge of his nose. “Telos? The eagle?”

  “Yep. We talked about him the other day. Shiloh said he wished he could figure out how he could see him again.”

  “But where would he go to do that?”

  Certainty growing, Katy jogged toward the sign. One arrow pointed to the covered bridge, which led back toward town, and the other pointed to the fjord. “This way,” she called.

  Gunnar hurried to catch up. “How do you know?”

  “That’s where we last saw Telos, a quarter of a mile from the fjord.”

  He broke into a smile. “Well done, MacBain. I knew you’d figure it out.”

  Katy started jogging again. “Figuring it out and finding the kids are two different things. We have to hurry.”

  “Right behind you.”

  The woods echoed with their footfalls and, once again, they fell into rhythm, the pace much faster this time. Within fifteen or so minutes, they found the signpost they’d been looking for, and Katy pulled to a stop. Her heart pounded like crazy, and she knew it wasn’t because of the run.

  “Shiloh?” she called. “Ethan? Owen? Where are you guys?”

  Gunnar paused at the sign, eyes scanning the ground like a searchlight. “I don’t see any tracks leading off the path.”

  “Well with ground cover like this, it would be tough to see. Maybe we need to go closer to the fjord?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But tell me more about your conversation with Shiloh first.”

  Katy took a deep breath and tried to remember the details. “I was trying to get him to relax a little, to think about the fun of being a kid, and he wasn’t really having it. So, I tried to cheer him up by reminding him about our adventure in the woods, Telos included.”

  Gunnar sighed. “Anything else?”

  “Not really. I mean, we talked about Telos helping people, that he shows up when they’re in trouble, and Shiloh compared him to a superhero. That was pretty much it.” She walked up and down the path as she talked, peering into the distance.

  “A superhero, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Katy stopped and took a deep breath. “I told him that wasn’t quite right, that . . .” Her brain lit up again, this time with flashes of red and yellow; emergency colors. “Oh, man.”

  “What?”

  “Trouble. I said Telos helps people in trouble.” She started into the woods, aiming herself directly toward the fjord.

  “What does that mean? Where are you going?” Gunnar stomped a path through the leaves behind her.

  Katy turned to face him. “Think about it. Three young boys, eager to see a superhero-like bald eagle who shows up when something goes wrong.”

  Gunnar’s eyes lit up. “So they try to make something go wrong.”

  She nodded, her pulse sending a terrified beat through her body. “And then something goes wrong.”

  Their eyes met, and she let herself soak up his strength, his concern, his essence. They were stronger together, and if any two people could save these kids, Katy knew she and Gunnar were the two. They had to find them. Now.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Okay, if you were nine and wanted to attract the attention of magical bald eagle, what would you do?” Gunnar stared at Katy like the answer might write itself on her forehead. She was just so damn good at figuring things out.

  “Keep in mind that this particular nine-year-old really fears the unknown.” She restarted her trek through the brush, sweeping her head from side to side as she walked. “Ethan! Owen! Shiloh!” she called as she walked.

  “Shiloh?” Gunnar repeated. “Ethan? Owen? You guys okay?”

  They paused, listened. Not so much as a crackling leaf broke the silence. “Let’s just keep moving toward the fjord,” Katy said. “Ethan and Owen know that area well, so they might go there.”

  “Makes sense.” A little thrill rushed through him, a twinge of admiration for this woman who’d pretty much taken charge of his life in the past several weeks. He watched her stride ahead, voice strong and determined, and though he knew this was not the moment to indulge his
attraction, something inside said that moment sure as hell better come soon. Katy MacBain was the find of a lifetime—likely many lifetimes—and the sooner he made her his, the better his life would be.

  Desire acknowledged, he tucked it away and got back to business. These kids might have created a world of trouble for themselves, and the sooner they discovered that trouble, the better. Swinging his head from side to side, he scanned the area like Katy, taking in as many details of the landscape as his eyes would allow.

  Minutes passed, taking them farther and farther from the trail. Just as Gunnar was about to suggest they circle back and reorient themselves, something at the corner of his eye snatched his attention. He glanced back and saw the pattern, a swath of broken bush limbs, snapped on both sides like something, or someone, had charged right through. “Over here,” he called and darted toward the bushes.

  “You see something?” Katy’s two feet made the sound of ten as she scurried in his direction.

  “I think they went this way.”

  Gunnar sprinted past the bushes, then slammed on the brakes. Just on the other side lay a yellow nylon rope, one end tied to the base of one of the bushes. The other end disappeared over the side of a steep slope. “Oh, no,” he said, before he caught himself.

  “What? What? Tell me what you see,” Katy yelled from several feet back.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “They’ve definitely been this way.”

  She skidded up behind him and peered over his shoulder. “Does that rope go over the ravine? Oh my God.”

  Gunnar held up a cautioning hand and inched toward the edge of the slope. “It’s not a ravine. It’s not that steep.” Holding on to the rope, he stepped as close as he could and looked over, then let loose a huge breath, panic mixed with relief. “There they are,” he said.

  “You see them? They’re okay?” Katy rushed up behind him, eager to see for herself.

  “Whoa, easy,” he said quietly. Down below, he counted three small heads, all alert and looking up at him. “You guys okay?” he called, but their mix of nods and waves didn’t quite offer confirmation.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Katy breathed. She leaned against him, just the tiniest bit, and he steadied his feet to let her stay that way for a second. “How are we going to get down there?”

  Gunnar took his own deep breath. Time to be the fire chief, the head rescuer, the example-setter. He took a couple of steps back from the edge, inching her back as he went, then turned to face her. The relief in her gray eyes washed over him, and he flashed her a quick smile.

  “Let me call this in first and get some help on the way. Then let’s see if there’s a way to traverse our way down.”

  Katy nodded and started walking the edge, surveying the terrain below. He watched her as he grabbed his radio and described their location to the searchers with as much detail as possible. By the time he finished, she’d identified a path with more dirt than brush, accented by small boulders here and there that would make excellent footholds.

  “Nice work,” he said, coming up behind her. “We should be down to them in no time.”

  She nodded and peered down at the boys. “I wish we could see them a little better. I need to know they’re okay.”

  Gunnar spun her to face him and planted his hands on her shoulders. “They’re alive and they’re responsive. That’s all we really need to know. Whatever else is going on down there can be addressed.”

  Katy’s mouth bent into a tiny smile. “Yes, Chief,” she said with purpose. “Shall I get that rope?”

  He nodded, happy to see her shift back into pro mode. “Let’s take it down with us. I think we can climb down without it, but I’d hate to need it at some point and not have it at hand.”

  With a small salute, Katy went to retrieve it while he planned their route. Working together, they moved down the slope in a series of partnered movements, each making sure to be steady, and steady the other, before tackling the next section. As they neared, the boys yelled and cheered, and Gunnar enjoyed watching Katy’s smile widen and her eyes grow brighter each time they hooted and hollered.

  Finally, nearly a half-hour later, they reached the cluster of kids.

  “Katy!” they all screamed, and Gunnar watched the two raven-haired twins, Ethan indistinguishable from Owen to his eye, rush to hug their cousin. He grinned, thrilled to see them jumping and moving, then glanced over to Shiloh, who remained on the ground, eyes full of tears.

  His pulse stuttered. Something wasn’t right. He peered closer, noticed the odd way the boy’s leg bent beneath him. “Katy?” he said carefully, trying to keep his voice even and casual.

  She finished her hug and glanced up at him, eyes immediately soaking up what he didn’t say. Her gaze darted to Shiloh, and she hurried over, remembering to smile at the last minute. “Shiloh! There you are. Boy, you had us worried.”

  “Hi, Katy,” he murmured, the tears starting to spill over the rims of his eyes.

  “You okay, buddy?” She squatted down by his side. “What’s up with your leg? Does it hurt?”

  He nodded, and his eyes widened to what seemed like twice their size. “It hurts a lot. And my insides, too. I’ve been trying to stay real still, but it’s hard.”

  Gunnar moved closer, and he and Katy shared an alarmed look. “I’ll radio again,” he told her. “Help should be here soon.” He sent a call out to the group, but no answer came back. Slightly concerned, he waved the twins over and settled them nearby, then posted himself near Katy and Shiloh.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked the boy.

  He hung his head. “We wanted to see Telos. Ethan and Owen knew about him, too, but they had never seen him. I thought if we all hung on the rope, close to where we saw him last time, and yelled for help, he would come to us.”

  Katy reached out and squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Shiloh. It’s a pretty logical plan, just not very practical.”

  Shiloh nodded, slow and sad. “I figured that out when I lost my grip on the rope. I was on the bottom, and I fell really far. Ethan and Owen climbed down so I wouldn’t be alone.”

  She smiled. “Sounds like you found yourself some good friends.”

  He swatted at his tears and nodded again. “Yeah, but Telos never came. Not even when I fell.”

  “Well, maybe he knew you tried to trick him. Gods don’t like that so much.”

  Gunnar nodded, then stopped himself. What was he doing? He still wasn’t sure he bought this god stuff of Katy’s.

  Shiloh’s tears intensified. “But then I really needed help. And he still didn’t come.”

  “I’m sure he had his reasons. Remember, from up there, Telos can see everything. He sees the big picture in ways you can’t.” Katy leaned forward and laid her hands on Shiloh’s leg. She glanced back at Gunnar and sent another message with her eyes. “I’m going to need to check you out, okay? I need to see how badly you’re hurt.”

  “Okay,” the boy said, his voice now a whisper. “I don’t feel so good, Katy. Can you get my mom now? I know she misses me.” He leaned back against the ridge, eyes fluttering.

  Katy’s body stiffened. “Anything from the team?” she asked.

  Gunnar shook his head, wishing he had another answer.

  She pursed her lips and studied him. “I’m going to have to do something, and I don’t have time to explain it all to you.”

  “What’s to explain?” Her tone made the hairs on his arms stand at attention.

  “I’m just going to say this: Remember Tux?”

  “The cat?”

  “Yes.”

  He peered at her. Had the stress softened her brain? Why were they talking about cats?

  “Do you remember the day he was hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then he wasn’t hurt?”

  “Yes . . .”

 
; She pursed her lips again. “That’s all you get for now. No questions and no interruptions, got it?”

  He nodded slowly, though he had no idea what he’d just agreed to. He watched as Katy turned back to Shiloh, then bent down and placed her cheek against his. “I’ve got you, buddy,” she whispered. “I can help.”

  Gunnar felt his mouth open, but he pressed it closed. No questions, he told himself. Just give her what she asks for. He stared as her eyes closed, then moved rapidly beneath her lids like she was dreaming. Awe enveloped him and suddenly, in a way he could not have explained if the future of the world depended on it, he knew—just knew—that all things were indeed possible.

  After a moment, Katy’s eyes flashed open, the gray like molten silver. “I need your help,” she said.

  “Anything.”

  She smiled at him then, her face so full of love she almost seemed to shimmer. “Come closer,” she said. “Put your hands on my waist.”

  His mind felt like one big question mark, but he shook it off and nodded. “I can do that.”

  “No matter what you feel or hear, don’t let go,” she said.

  “Never,” he promised and reached for her waist.

  Together, they leaned forward again, Katy’s cheek against Shiloh’s, and Gunnar’s cheek resting on her back. A slow beat pulsed out from her body, syncing his heart with hers and blending the lines between them. He closed his eyes, and a rainbow of light appeared behind them, its colors so brilliant he had to lift his lids and disengage. His hands never moved, however, never left the firm base of her body, never broke the contact between the two of them and the earth below.

  In that moment, Gunnar understood her every cell, her every belief, her every yearning. As she worked frantically to alleviate Shiloh’s pain, he glimpsed the shadows of her pain floating beneath. He felt her struggles and traumas, felt how hard she’d worked to handle what Brandon Fontanne had forced upon her and how she’d made peace with the boundaries of her obligation. In that moment, he understood that she’d saved herself by allowing justice to unfold in its own way. Not only did the fight not belong to him, it had, in fact, already been valiantly won.