by S. E. Akers
I sharpened my glare.
“But he won’t have to stay there that long. Just for the week.”
I clanged my fork down on my plate.
“All right, all right… Just for tonight,” Beatrix huffed. “I’ll release him on my way out of town in the morning. After your flight. We don’t need him showing up at the airport. I doubt TSA would take too kindly to supernatural fight in one of their terminals.”
“So the Onyx knows where I’m going,” I grumbled.
“It appears he does,” my mentor replied and then took a lengthy sip of her white wine.
“Aren’t you worried?”
“About the Onyx following you? No. About him sending some of his goons after you? Yes. That is concerning.”
“Why are you so sure he won’t follow me?” I asked.
“Follow you? While he thinks I’m still roaming the area? Not hardly, my dear. Your itinerary may be set, but mine isn’t. The Onyx has no idea where I’m going or where I’ll be. He won’t chance entrusting your friend’s body with some possessed idiot. It’s too valuable a bargaining chip for him. Dunamis is extremely shrewd. He won’t risk following you. He knows if he’s patient, you will come to him.” Beatrix took a quick sip of her wine and then set the goblet down on the table firmly like a chess piece making its final move. “That’s what I’d do.”
“So what am I supposed to do if I run into one of his possessed goons? You know…Mr. Webber’s son is still unaccounted for,” I reminded her.
Beatrix smiled as she stared out the window, rubbing her marquee-shaped ruby ring. “Leave that to me,” she assured with a sly grin. “Now, enough about that. I hope you left plenty of room for dessert.”
I let out a laugh and threw down my napkin. “I don’t think I should. I’m trying to watch my weight. A little birdie told me that I looked fat,” I scowled and leaned back in my chair.
“Good choice,” Beatrix grinned. “We want the plane to get off the ground.”
We arrived back at the Marriott around nine, ready to hit the hay. My flight left at 6:00 AM sharp, so with their two-hour early arrival requirement and the extra hour and a half for us to get ready and over to the airport, that put my wake-up time at around 2 o’clock in the morning. I was nervous to say the least. My appointment at the passport office tomorrow hinged upon both planes departing and arriving “as scheduled”. I set the alarm on the in-room clock, as well as the one on my iPod, and even called the front desk to ensure my back-up had a “back-up”. Despite all the extra precautions I took, my night was still restless. I dreamed I had a long delay in Atlanta that caused our plane bound for New Orleans to arrive late, leaving me to miss my appointment and ultimately stranded. That vision catapulted me right out of bed in a sweat a good hour early. Deep down, knowing the Onyx knew where I was going didn’t help. I used the extra time to properly de-tag all the clothes Beatrix had purchased and folded them pristinely in my new set of saddle-brown leather luggage.
By the time Beatrix woke to the sound of my iPod alarm going off, I was already showered, dressed, packed, and sitting on the edge of my bed. The wake-up call from the front desk never came, and the alarm on the bedside clock never buzzed. I called to check the departure times for both flights. They each claimed an “on-time” status and The Weather Channel forecasted clear skies along our intended path.
Maybe the dream was my gut ensuring I was up and ready?
We checked out of the hotel around 3:30 AM. There were hardly any cars on the streets so the drive to Chuck Yeager Airport didn’t take long at all. The mountaintop airport was relatively small, but it was still the largest one I’d ever seen in-person. One of its runways actually ended at the edge of a cliff. Though I hadn’t heard of any incidents, I started to wonder if any planes had ever stalled during take-off. Hopefully not. This was my first time flying on a plane, anywhere. A wave of anxiousness came over me, but in an exciting way. Flying commercial wasn’t Bea’s favorite thing, but she assured it was safe. It was just too stifling for her taste. She preferred to play “pilot”.
I checked my Charger in the long-term parking section. Bea was planning on taking “the scenic route” to her next destination. After a speedy scan to make sure I hadn’t left anything in my car, we were strolling across the brightly lit parking lot towards the main terminal.
I eyed the illustrious name mounted on the building’s façade. “So have you ever broken the sound barrier on any of your flights?” I teased.
“I try not to,” Beatrix asserted earnestly. “Flying at that speed tends to drain too much energy. Plus, I hate that awful boom. It can scare the daylights out of you,” Beatrix insisted. “I’ve done it only once…but that was because I had to shake something ghastly off my tail.” She reflected for a moment and grinned. “The shock wave alone rattled him right off,” Beatrix laughed as she plopped down on a curbside bench. Now speechless, I threw my mentor a supportive nod as I set my bags down on the ground.
I checked the hands on my angelite watch. My other classmates were scheduled to arrive on a chartered bus around 4 o’clock, so for fifteen minutes we waited. Well, I waited. Beatrix lectured.
“I have a few rules for you, dear,” Beatrix began. “Ones that I genuinely hope you heed. First and foremost… Stay with your group. Pair up with someone at the very least. Don’t wander off. This is a group trip, not a personal exploration,” she stated with a stony look on her face. “Second… You are to drop me a line now and then, so I’ll know you’re safe. Tanner too, but again, don’t tell him where you are. I don’t even want to think about the sermon we would both have to suffer through if he were to catch wind of this.” I totally agreed and tossed her a nod. “Third,” she announced with a heightened glare, “Try to have a good time. I’m not so much concerned about you learning anything as I am about you experiencing new things with physical friends. I think you need that interaction most of all. I know you feel bad about Katie not going with you, but she’ll be fine. A little time away from one another will do you both some good.”
“I know,” I replied as I clutched my purse. Though Beatrix had never raised her voice to me directly, I wondered how pissed-off she would be if she uncovered my blatant deceit. In about a minute, we spotted the bus winding around one of the roads, headed straight for the main terminal.
“I think that’s them. I’d better be going,” Beatrix announced as she rose from the bench. We walked over to a more secluded location. “Remember, Shiloh, evil lurks everywhere.” She pointed her finger. “I may not be able to watch over you myself, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have my eye on you, so be warned. Trust your gut…and don’t be seduced by N’awlins charms today. It’s a dangerous place, full of dangerous people. So after your appointment at the passport office, please reconnect with your group. No wandering off to explore the sights on your own.”
“Bea, I still don’t have a birth certificate. What am I supposed—”
“I told you. You will have everything when you need it,” she interrupted. “And if not, then I’m sure you’ll be compelled to come up with something.”
“Brainwash and lie to a federal official?” I questioned.
Beatrix shook her head. “Honestly, the way that moral compass of yours sways. But I suppose it is easier to deceive for selfless reasons.” With her list of do’s and don’ts complete, Beatrix locked me in a warm, lingering embrace. “And I promise… I’ll keep up the search for Katie’s body while you’re gone. I’ll double my efforts. After all, that’s the least I can do…since you left her at home.”
I tightened my squeeze. Perfect… Leave me with some guilt before I head off.
“Thanks, Bea…for everything.” As soon as we pulled out of our hug, she threw me a tender wink and changed into the falcon I’d come to know and love. While I watched her soar off into the sky, high enough to where the darkness had gently claimed her form, I spotted one of her feathers floating down gracefully. It landed at my feet like a sweet parting gift. I swiftl
y picked it up and stroked its edge. I missed her already, but my excitement was growing with each passing second. A week of freedom — no lessons, no lectures, no training, and best of all finally, a chance to experience something new on my own without a supernatural chaperone.
A stress-free and relaxing week… Hopefully, I thought as I tucked the feathery souvenir in my purse, grabbed my suitcases, and strolled over to connect with my group.
I stepped around the corner of the building just as the massive, luxury coach pulled up. Ms. Fitzpatrick was the first to step off the bus.
“Everyone needs to pair up, starting now,” Ms. Fitz called out. The first of my classmates down the steps turned out to be Anna, followed by Ethan. Tammy and Heath staggered off next, joined at the hip. Ms. Fitz pulled them apart quickly. “Let’s not act like we’re on our honeymoon,” she scolded and then led Tammy over to stand beside Anna. After a minute, Ty and Mike descended the stairs, looking surprisingly chummy. Ms. Fitz called out, “Shiloh, the other part of your pair is coming,” and then stuck her head back inside. “If she would hurry,” she called out. Ms. Fitz handed me a navy jacket with an Xcavare crest on its left side and a brand new iPhone. “These are yours for the trip. You need to wear the jacket at all times and keep the phone on you, in case you get separated from the group. The jacket is yours to keep, but the cell must be returned at the end of the trip. Everyone’s individual numbers have already been punched into the phone, and it has international service. But it’s only to be used amongst our circle. No calling home on them.”
I tossed the flashy phone in my purse. “So I’m paired with Olivia?” I posed as I slipped on my jacket.
“I’m afraid not,” Ms. Fitz replied, a little too uneasily for my taste. “Um, Olivia had an accident yesterday afternoon.”
“What happened?”
“She fell off the pyramid during cheerleading practice and broke her ankle. We had to bring another girl along, to even things out. We were lucky to find someone who already had a passport,” she added through a set of clenched teeth.
“Who’s that?” I questioned fearfully as my gut sounded an alarm.
“Oh great!” Kara hissed as she stepped onto the curb. “My buddy actually made it. We’re just going to have loads of fun,” she asserted with a rolling glare as she strutted past me to collect her suitcases.
Shell-shocked, my eyes followed her as she walked through the doors of the terminal, bitching and complaining about why neither Ty, nor Mike had offered to help her with her five bags.
I let out a groan. Oh say it isn’t so…
Coach Hayes was the last to exit the bus. “What’s wrong, Wallace? We’re not even in the air yet and you already look nauseous,” he cracked with a grin.
Please let her drink the water… Please, please, please… Both of them, I prayed as I gathered my things and followed our group into the main terminal.
While checking-in, Ms. Fitz assured me not to worry about my bags when we arrived in New Orleans. She would see to it personally that they arrived at the hotel. That would give me more time to catch a cab and head to my appointment downtown.
“It’s important you obtain that passport, Shiloh. You can’t go the rest of the way without it,” Ms. Fitz warned.
“I understand. I have everything I need,” I lied as I patted my purse, hoping I had masked my anxiety about the missing birth certificate.
I started to pull Katie out of my purse until I realized I still needed to pass through security. I would just have to take her off again, so I left her right where she was. An alarming thought hit me as I was removing all of my jewelry.
What about my hilt? I can’t carry it in my back pocket. It’ll set off the metal detectors. A gruff pat down from a cranky TSA worker was the last thing I needed. I would have to keep it in my purse and compel them if they tried to take it.
I placed my shoes and purse into the blue plastic container and set it onto the conveyor belt, sending it on its way. I practically crept through the metal detector while I kept a close eye on my leather bag passing through the x-ray machine. I cleared the intimidating archway without the slightest hindrance, but the conveyor belt came to a sudden halt and then jerked back into reverse. I watched anxiously while several agents swarmed over to study the computer screen. As I’d predicted, they removed my purse and waved me over to the side. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I strode over to the table.
A portly officer scowled at me. “Is this your bag, Miss?”
“Yes,” I replied as I glanced at his nametag and added respectfully, “Agent Reynolds.”
“Dump the contents out now,” Agent Reynolds snapped. I reached into the bag only to be scolded with a deafening, “I said DUMP them out. Don’t put your hands in there. ARE YOU STUPID?”
Agent Ass, I thought as I shook everything out and onto the table. What an embarrassing mess! The last thing to land was my hilt. It smacked the table with an extra-loud “clank”. The agent picked it up with a befuddled look on his face. I read his mind quickly. He was definitely confused by something, but he assessed there wasn’t a threat.
“It’s my first time flying,” I remarked with a smile as I removed my hilt carefully out of his hand. “You can never be too sure,” I insisted as I held it up like a traditional cross.
“Move along,” Agent Reynolds bellowed with a gruff point of his finger.
I flashed him a flat, toothless grin. Yeah, I’ve got one of those piggies I’d like to show you myself.
We boarded within an hour. I spotted my mail sticking out of my purse when I went to stow it under my seat.
Junk, junk, junk, I noted as I thumbed through the envelopes. The last one hit me like a slap in the face. I hadn’t paid too much attention to it when I’d stuck it in my bag the other night (Tanner’s impromptu call had a lot to do with that). The return address was stamped, “West Virginia University”, and underneath it was “Biological Sciences Department.” I tore it open. I scanned through it feverishly, desperate for clues about the mystery plant. It was mostly a lot of confusing technical jargon regarding the tests they had conducted, but my eyes focused in on one particular paragraph. It read,
“Though we were unable to identify the exact species of the sample, it bares a strong resemblance to the Ptiolta plumosa in regard to its structural composition. We would like to keep the specimen for further analysis, with your permission, in hopes that we may eventually identify the correct variety of seaweed you have sent us.”
I stretched back in my seat and turned towards the window in a complete daze.
Seaweed?
Chapter 12 — N.O. - It Ain’t So “Easy”
With my appointment in fifty-five minutes and the clock ticking, I bolted through the congested main terminal, weaving through the slow-moving crowd and dodging hordes of clueless folks chatting on their cell phones. Being late was never a fashionable option. My personal credo held true — the earlier, the better — especially right now. I slowed to brisk walk when I spotted the automatic exit doors. The sun’s warm rays were heating the pavement and fueling the heavy stagnant air. For it to be March, there wasn’t even the hint of a breeze. My eyes panned a bank of taxis that lined the curb, all grouped by their color and company. I gazed at them pensively, almost like I was looking for something in my closet to wear. A classic, checkered cab was parked directly in front of me with a friendly-looking driver standing idly by and his light turned on. That, I took as a good omen.
The cabbie waved me over and then hopped behind the wheel. I pulled on the shiny chrome handle, and just as I swung open the door, a statuesque raven-haired woman in a sleek red suit stuck her leg in my cab.
“Thanks,” the brash woman said casually.
Taken aback by her rudeness, I cocked my head. “Excuse me. This is my cab,” I contended.
“Well, I don’t see your name on it.” The woman glanced at the letters on the outside of the door and laughed. “Unless it’s Yellow?” she taunted with a haughty s
mirk.
I shrugged off her crack. “I have an appointment I need to get to,” I stated and tightened my grip on the handle.
The woman tossed her briefcase into the taxi. “So do I. I suggest you hurry and find another,” she replied and then shoved the door straight into me. The bump knocked me straight onto the curb, ass first. All of my precious papers flew out of my grasp and were now scattered all around me. While I tried to collect them, the woman slammed the door and rolled down the window.
“You didn’t put up much of a fuss. Maybe you are yellow?” the rude woman posed with a blasé shrug.
My mouth fell open.
“You’ll catch more than flies around here with that attitude, darling. I suggest you toughen up,” the woman called out as the cab pulled away from the curb.
I stared at the rear bumper of the taxi, fuming, while I gathered up my documents. I definitely wasn’t in laid-back, good ’ole boy country anymore. I shoved my stack of papers in my purse.
They need to take a lesson in southern hospitality…’cause theirs sucks! Another taxi pulled into the vacant slot immediately. The driver hopped out and extended his hand.
“Can I take you somewhere, Miss?” the stocky driver offered in an eager and boisterous tone.
“Yes,” I answered through squinty eyes as I stared at his sunglasses, calling the ones tucked in my purse to mind. “The Passport Office. On Canal Street?”
The driver opened the cab door with a gracious swing. “I know just where it is, Miss.”
“Thank you,” I replied with an appreciative smile and hopped inside.
I pulled my new loaner phone out of my purse. “How long will it take to get there?” I asked as I noted the time on its screen.