Valley of the Broken (Sage of Sevens Book 1)

by K. F. Baugh

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sun approached the edge of the mountains, and Sage knew she only had a short time before complete darkness fell. If Gus and Tim were missing, she’d have almost no daylight to find them. After what seemed like an eternity, she stumbled into the campsite.

  “Tim, Gus!” she screamed. “Where are you?”

  Gus’s bark sounded, and the dog appeared from behind the tent. Tail wagging, he bounded toward her, and Sage flinched as she prepared for his painful welcoming leap. Instead, Gus halted and with a whine, began to lick her bloody knees and shins.

  Her jagged breath slowly returned to normal. With pain-stiffened awkwardness, she leaned down to scratch his neck. “Hey, buddy, did you miss me? Where’s Tim?”

  The dog ignored her question and continued to lick her injuries. “Tim?” Sage called. “Tim, where are you?”

  “I’m here,” Tim’s voice came from the woods behind her.

  Sage straightened painfully and saw Tim’s form appear from behind a dense thicket of trees.

  “What happened? Where were you?” The annoyance in his eyes transformed into shock as he came closer and registered her injuries. “Are you hurt? Again? You’re covered in blood!” Gus’s excited barks drowned out the rest of his words.

  Why hadn’t she taken a moment to clean herself up and investigate the campsite before bellowing her presence like a hysterical toddler? She wasn’t used to sharing her pain with anyone other than Gus; embarrassment and annoyance overwhelmed her. Tim had already tended her injuries once before, and she didn’t like the idea of him doing it again. She just wanted to curl up in her sleeping bag and heal alone like she usually did.

  “You should see the other guy.” Sage leaned against the nearest tree, attempting to appear casual. Her injured knee buckled, and she collapsed. This catapulted Tim into frantic action.

  Using himself as a crutch, he eased shoulder under Sage’s and walked her toward the tent.

  “I just ran a couple of miles, Tim. I’m fine.” Sage tried to pull away, but the arm around her waist tightened, and Tim held her fast to his side.

  “You shouldn’t have gone off on your own. It’s not safe,” he said angrily. “You’re probably in shock again.”

  “You’re obsessed with shock. I’m not in shock!”

  “You might be!”

  “Just leave me alone, Tim. I can take care of this myself.”

  He ignored her and held Sage against him all the way to the tent. “Wait here for a second.”

  Sage tried to limp away, but Tim quickly returned with a sleeping bag and first aid kit. He circled in front of her, throwing the bag to the ground at her side. When he reached out, she jerked away.

  “You’ve got to lay down, Sage! You look like you’re about to fall over. And what’s the matter with your arm? Your wrist is flopping all over the place.” He gestured to her useless hand while Gus paced nervously between them.

  Sage pulled the offending limb behind her. “You don’t have to play doctor, Tim. I told you, it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “For the love of …” Tim sank to his knees next to the bag. He jerked his hands through his hair until it stood wildly on end. “You’re completely delusional, Sage. Would you please, please, lay down and just let me splint your wrist?”

  “You’re the one freaking out, Tim. Stop ordering me around like some--”

  “Hey!” Tim barked but then took a deep breath and continued in a soft, almost hypnotic voice. “I’m sure you’re right. Everything’s fine. I’m overreacting. But to humor me, let me take a quick look at your wrist. It’s good practice for me. In case I ever meet someone who’s actually hurt.”

  Sage glared at him, but the energy it would have taken to continue the argument escaped her. The adrenaline from the encounter at Hank’s cabin had played out, and she found herself at an utter loss for words. She just wanted a few minutes of quiet to rest and figure out what to do next.

  Clumsily, Sage lowered herself to the sleeping bag and sighed as the silky fabric cocooned her battered and broken body. She closed her eyes and after a moment Tim began to probe the wounds on her arm.

  It took a while for Tim to set and splint her wrist, tend to her numerous gashes, and clean the scratches on her face, hands, and legs. All of Sage’s remaining energy was spent in fighting the unremitting pain of Tim’s aid. When she registered that he was finally done, Sage opened her eyes. Tim crouched next to her, studying her arm, his face unreadable.

  After a moment his gaze travelled from her arm to Sage’s eyes. “You realize you need to see a real doctor don’t you? Your wrist was dislocated. And it’s probably broken.”

  “It’ll be fine.” Sage sat up and stretched. The sun had dipped below the mountain peaks, and the trees’ evening shadows stretched long and thin.

  “You see, normally I’d argue with that, but look at this,” he commanded and grazed his hand down the jagged remains of her pants and brushed her shins. Sage shivered away from his touch.

  “What?”

  “Gone. All the claw and teeth marks from yesterday? Completely gone.” His voice grew sharp, with fear or anger she couldn’t tell, but he abruptly moved away. “At first I thought I must be confused. That I was just missing the injuries from yesterday. That they were hidden by these new ones. But aside from the broken, dislocated wrist and torn up knees from today, the marks from yesterday are gone. Vanished.”

  He stood above her, his form backlit by the last rays of sunlight. “And there,” he gestured toward her shoulder, “where I pulled that bone thing out of you? That was a really serious injury. But there’s barely a mark. Just a small scab and some bruising.”

  “What can I say?” Sage struggled to stand and caught her breath against a nearby tree. “I heal fast,” she said, staring at him defiantly.

  “Right, like superhero fast.”

  “Come on, Tim. Superheroes are for kids,” Sage said and closed her eyes.

  “I’m serious.” He angled his neck to study her face more closely. “What’s going on here? Are you even …” She watched as he took several steps back. “Human?”

  Sage’s mind scrambled for an explanation. “Do I look like some kind of alien to you?”

  “Not an alien.” His voice came faintly after a minute. “But not human either.”

  “So, neither alien nor human.” She forced out a hollow laugh. “Maybe I’m a hybrid? Or a zombie? Just waiting for a chance to eat your brains?”

  Tim sighed and knelt to clean up the dirty gauze and discarded wrappers. “You could trust me, you know,” he finally said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sage turned away and forced the tremor from her hands. “Can you please drop this? We’ve got bigger things to worry about.” Her skin crawled as she remembered the creature from Hank’s cabin. What on earth did the Wind want her to do about that … thing?

  “Look, it’s part of my job description, my old job anyway, to have faith in the unseen, the unexplainable. That kind of thing doesn’t phase me like it would some people,” Tim said, his voice gentler now. “There’s something going on here that’s outside the realm of normal.” He paused then continued reluctantly, “That seems to include you as well, and I want to understand.”

  “So you’re scared of me now?” Sage snapped. “I’m not some monster.”

  “I didn’t say you were. But you’re more than what you’re pretending.”

  “Look, I’m not the thing you should be worrying about,” Sage snapped. “You have no idea what I encountered on the other side of that mountain, in Oriel Valley.” She shuddered.

  Tim was silent, obviously torn between his interrogation of Sage and this new piece of information. “We’re not done talking about this,” he insisted, “but fine. Tell me what you saw.”

  Sage moved to a stump at the edge of the trees and sank down. Tim and Gus followed her. Suddenly she realized how exhausted she was and wished for nothing more than the tattered but home
y warmth of her bedroom at Liddy’s. Instead, she closed her eyes and the details of her adventure in Oriel Valley and Old Hank’s cabin spilled out, like water from a broken dam.

  When she finished, by telling Tim of the creature’s transformation to a coyote, only Gus’s gentle snores broke the taunt silence. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. “So, what do you think? Should we look at those pictures on your computer and see if we can find some sort of a link between all this? Or do you want to just go to sleep and wait until morning?”

  Tim jumped up as if electrocuted. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you actually considering staying here another night?” He pulled the sleeping bag off the ground and rolled it into a ball. “After what happened today? No way, Sage. We can’t take that chance.” He ran to the tent. “As soon as we get packed up, we’re out of here. Give me a hand with these stakes.”

  Sage bristled. “First off, that’s my car and my gear. You don’t tell me what to--.”

  “I understand but—”

  “Second, we’re not in danger here. I promise.”

  “How on Earth can you promise that?” He demanded, his voice rising. “Look at you!” He pulled a backpack from the tent. Sage bolted after him, wincing as every muscle in her body screamed in protest.

  “We are NOT leaving!” she said as he flung the backpack into the back of the Jeep. Her voice echoed around the empty space. A breeze rustled through the trees, scattering moonlit aspen leaves between them.

  “There’s no way we’re spending the night here with that thing running around in the dark,” Tim said, trudging back past her. “You’re already hurt.” He called over his shoulder. “I don’t care how fast you heal. You can’t handle another attack.”

  Tim went into the tent again. After a few moments he reappeared with the two sleeping bags. He dropped them on the ground and began to break down the tent.

  “It’s ... complicated, but I promise you I know. We’re safer here than anywhere else. For tonight, anyway.” Her hair whipped across her face.

  “No, it’s too risky.” Tim wadded her tent, the sleeping bags, and the last of the camping supplies into a makeshift bag and dragged them back to the Jeep. “I don’t care if you kick and scream the whole way. I’m not letting you risk your life out here when you can barely stand to defend yourself.” He started pulling the branches off the Jeep’s hood.

  “Stop it!” Sage demanded, but he ignored her. Sage knew, deep in her bones, they should not leave this place. Not tonight. Desperately, she jogged to where Tim was tossing the last of the brush off the Jeep and shoved him away. He tripped over a root and fell to the ground.

  “What is the matter with you?” Tim eyed her with disbelief from the forest floor. He stumbled toward Sage, grabbed her shoulders, and shook her. “Do you want to die like Shaun and Tabitha did? Like Ron Davis?”

  Sage swore and jerked away. “I told you, we’re fine,” she shouted, but another gust blew the words from her mouth. Tim glanced at the whipping trees before turning back to Sage. He reached for her arm and tried to guide her to the Jeep’s door, but Sage punched him in the gut with her good arm.

  He let out an oof of pain but gritted his teeth and reached for her again. Sage smacked at his hands, her colorfully worded protests drowned out by wind tearing at the branches above them. Gus ran circles around the protesting pair and howled frantically.

  “SILENCE.” Like a clap of thunder, the Wind’s demand exploded into the clearing; the gusts immediately ceased, causing cascades of leaves to flutter to the ground around them. The two froze mid-struggle as an electrical current permeated the air around them. Sage felt like her limbs were on fire.

  “What … who was that?” Tim whispered.

  “You heard it too?” Sage asked, shocked.

  “Of course I heard it. I’m not deaf!” Tim jerked his head toward her, the emotions of the last minutes still playing across his face.

  “Must you turn upon each other like quarreling children?” The voice boomed. “Will you tear each other apart before the true enemy even arrives?”

  Sage and Tim clapped their hands over their ears, Sage flinching at the pain in her wrist. “Your bickering must cease,” it continued, now gentle enough for the two to lower their hands. Gus leapt and frisked in front of them, as if he was playing a game of tug with an invisible master.

  “Who—?” Tim croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Who are you?”

  “We are not strangers.” The breeze rippled his hair. “The other Holy Ones and I have watched you wander in the lonely places of these hills and valleys.”

  “You have?” Sage gasped. The Wind moved to her and looped around her body.

  “Surely you did not think you were my only charge, Broken One?”

  Curiosity bubbled within Sage as she looked at Tim. “I guess I did.” So far she’d considered him a liability, or at best, someone good at first aid. Maybe there was more to Tim than met the eye.

  “There are many who struggle to see beyond the illusions of this world. Some, like you, Broken One, have suffered much, but been given much. Others would leave it a better place before they depart, no matter how small their gift. If not for them …” the Wind left the thought unfinished.

  “Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy,” Tim whispered in a trembling voice.

  “That is my hope,” the Wind agreed.

  The moment radiated a stillness so beautiful, so peaceful, Sage felt she could touch it. But then Gus licked one of her wounds and snapped Sage’s mind back to the problems at hand. “Hey, we need to move past introduction time and figure out what to do next.”

  Tim gasped and stared at her with a look of disbelief. The Wind shook the campsite once more, so hard that the ground beneath them seemed to move. Sage tensed until she realized it was laughing.

  “Oh, Broken One,” it finally sighed in her ear, its voice tinged with sadness. “You have been a warrior-heart since birth. It is woven into your very soul.”

  “Warrior-heart?” Sage grew still when the Wind caressed her and found her wounds. Flinching as It probed them, she tried to hold still. Even though it hurt, she knew the Wind’s touch would help them heal faster.

  “We must do battle together against this dark creature before he destroys any more lives.” The Wind, finished with Sage’s injuries, cooled her sweat-dampened forehead with a soft breeze. “The evil he perpetrates grows greater by the day.”

  “Is it … it can’t be. Can it?” Sage stuttered.

  “Yes,” the Wind agreed, its voice mournful.

  “But a yee naaldlooshii, here?” She remembered the creature changing into a coyote on the mountain ridge and shuddered. “I’ve never heard of the ’Ánt’įįhnii or their ways here.” Witchery was one of the few things she hadn’t missed when social services relocated her from New Mexico to the middle of nowhere, Colorado.

  “Evil disguises itself in many forms, but they are all facades of destruction. If allowed to continue, it will cripple countless lives.”

  “Tell me what to do.” Sage sighed. “I’ll need your help; it’s tried to kill me twice now, and I don’t see how I’ll be able to destroy it. The thing shot me with an ’adagąsh in the cave.”

  “Help is already here.” The Wind pushed her now mostly healed body toward Tim.

  “Him?” She glanced at Tim. He looked as surprised as she felt. “How can he help? He’s not like me, is he?”

  “Not at all, and that is why he can help you. His heart longs ever after peace and reconciliation.”

  “Peace.” Sage spat out the word. “How can you talk about peace when that creature and other ones like it are on the loose?”

  “Others?” Tim asked. “Are there more?”

  “Evil, destruction,” the Wind said, “they tear at the fabric of our earth and ever have since the beginning of this world and all its many ages.”

  “But why?” Sage asked the question that always rattled in the broken places of her heart. “Why can’t
you just destroy it? You’re obviously powerful enough to.”

  “Can you begin to image the battles I have fought? And am already fighting?” The voice boomed, loud and harsh once more. “Do you not believe I and the others are doing all within our power to overcome?” The voice dropped to a whisper. “You were saved for this very moment.” The Wind cupped her cheek. “You have spent your whole life preparing for this battle, even though you did not know it. And you two have been chosen to destroy this evil that poisons all it touches. For long years it has slept in these valleys and lulled many into thinking it was gone.”

  The Wind laced its way between their two hunched forms. “Broken One, a warrior must be tried and tested. Must prove to both herself and those around her that she is ready to be strong. Trust the priest will see some things more clearly than you. He has spent his life trying to listen, trying to understand how the vices of your kind weave themselves into the ordinary, becoming monsters most fail to recognize. He can see weakness and not despise it. You must fight the yee naaldlooshii together; otherwise, it will prevail and many will suffer as you have both suffered.”

  Sage considered the words.

  Tim’s voice broke the thick silence. “I … I still don’t understand exactly what’s happening. Or what you want from me or Sage.” He raised his hands in supplication.

  “Listen and you will,” the Wind soothed as it began to retreat. “You know that answer better than anyone, priest. Listen.” It disappeared, and the trembling aspen leaves fell silent.

  Sage let out a deep sigh and rubbed her eyes. She felt Tim shift next to her and turned to look his way. He was already walking toward the perimeter of the clearing.

  “Where are you going?” She demanded.

  “Gotta be alone for a bit,” he shot back without turning around.