by S. S. Segran
“Okay.”
“Hey, guys, I gotta put you on hold,” Jag said. “My granddad’s calling.”
The line went silent for a couple of minutes before his voice returned. Tegan picked up an icy edge in it when he said, “Hi again.”
“Everything alright?” Aari asked.
There was a long pause, then Jag said flatly, “Gran’s passed. She’s gone.”
Tegan covered her mouth and met Aari’s eyes as he whipped around in the front seat to stare at her in shock. They both struggled to find words for so long that Marshall had to step in. “I’m so sorry, Jag,” he said softly.
“You’re not the one who should be sorry. Tony and whoever the hell he works for—they’re the ones. They’re going to pay for this. I give you my word, they’re going to pay.”
Tegan realized that Tony and his men were locked up in the shipping container at the Sanchez farm and that Jag would reach them first. He’d successfully kept his temper at bay since returning from Dema-Ki—and surprised all who knew him—but there was nothing to keep him in check now.
“Don’t say that,” she mumbled nervously, biting her thumbnail. “Please. Don’t do anything you’ll regret later.”
His voice was bitter and cold. “I hardly think I’ll regret this.”
“Jag—” Marshall began.
“I’ll see you guys when you get back.” Jag ended the call.
Tegan broke the silence. “Marshall . . . ”
“I can’t do much,” the Sentry said grimly. “I’ll get ahold of Nageau; maybe he can talk to Jag and calm him down.”
Tegan curled up in the backseat, arms wrapped around her knees. Aari patted her foot as if to comfort her but in his blue eyes, she saw her own fear reflected. Jag’s powers had grown and, in the state of mind he was in, would be devastatingly lethal. Even if she reached out to him telepathically, she knew he would only shut her out. There was nothing they could do but pray that he wouldn’t act out of fury.
* * *
Nageau’s eyes snapped open. “The last team has reported in,” he announced. “Their mission was successful.”
There were indulgent cheers as the Elders felt the tension melt away almost instantly. They shared elated smiles, the glow from the flames in the pit of their assembly neyra radiating warmly on their tired but triumphant faces. Tayoka sighed. “Wonderful.”
“Except for the pod in Texas and one at another location, everything went smoothly and all the entities inside the pods were destroyed,” Nageau said.
Elder Nageau? a voice entered his mind.
“Ah, do excuse me. I think one of our Sentries is trying to reach me.”
The other Elders nodded as Nageau responded. I am here, Marshall.
I wanted to let you know that the inactivated pods are on their way to my contact’s lab.
Splendid!
What’s the update on the overall mission?
The incursion is a complete success! We have ended the scourge in North America. Well done, all of you.
The Sentry’s thanks sounded distracted. He didn’t speak for a moment, then hesitated before saying, Jag received bad news, Elder Nageau. His grandmother has passed and I’m worried he’ll do something reckless. There are four men confined at his grandparents’ farm and he said that he would make them pay. With his abilities, there’s no telling what he may unleash on them. Could you reach out to him? He’s shut us out.
Goodness . . . one moment, please, Marshall. Nageau returned his attention to the Elders and quickly informed them of the situation, then reconnected with the Sentry to get specific details about the men at the farm. We will do our best to take care of it. Once we set things in motion, I will reach out to Jag personally.
Marshall sounded relieved. I appreciate that. Thank you.
They severed their connection and Nageau nodded at the others, indicating he was with them once again. Tikina studiously patted down a wrinkle in her blouse with her thumb before heaving a quiet exhale. “My heart goes out to Jag.”
“Mine as well,” Tayoka said sorrowfully. Nageau felt a pang; Jag had, of course, been Tayoka’s pupil during the five’s training the previous summer and the flame-haired Elder loved the boy as if Jag was the son he’d never had.
“It will not be proper to pull him away from his family after such a loss,” Ashack said slowly, “but that is something that we will not have control of with the five in the near future. This is far from over.”
Saiyu looked miserable. “No. We are not pulling them away from their loved ones, especially not Jag. I will not accept it . . . I cannot accept it.”
Nageau pursed his lips tightly, brow furrowed, and stared into the fire. “Perhaps it is time their families learned the truth about their children’s true destiny. The Saplings of Aegis, our Bearers of Light, will soon become young trees with verdant branches. Their powers grow day by day, as will their responsibilities. We cannot keep this a secret any longer.”
His suggestion was met with silence. None of the Elders were stunned by his proposal. Each knew this day would come. They didn’t have answers regarding what was the right move, but if none of them were arguing against Nageau, it was a unanimous, though weary, agreement.
“If we are all in accord,” Nageau murmured, “then I will volunteer to resolve this.”
Saiyu tried to smile at him. “This will be unorthodox.”
“Our traditions are in place to maintain accord and to safeguard our community and humanity at large, not to blindly cling to in the face of an impending cataclysm,” Nageau said. “It is a means to an end and not an end in itself. However, we will continue to cherish them because to discard all time-tested customs is not only foolish, but dangerous.”
“This is no small task to undertake,” Ashack said. “The reactions of the five’s parents are not likely to be positive.”
“And they have the right to react as such,” Nageau told him calmly. “Either way, it must be done. May the universe open the doors to their hearts and minds.”
* * *
Concordia welcomed Jag, Mariah and Kody with a spectacular sunrise but the mood in the truck might have been better complemented by a moonless, arctic night. Rage seeped from Jag’s pores throughout the ride back to his grandfather’s house. He’d long since shut out Mariah’s and Kody’s pleas for self-restraint; the hurt and rage that had started within his heart had spread through every inch of his body, leaving him almost begging in a twistedly gleeful way for the chance to seek retribution for his grandmother’s death.
Tony was the closest he could get to those who’d unleashed the nanomites upon the crops, pushing Julia Sanchez to the heart attack that ended her life. Her loss left Hugo without her sweet, loving presence and deprived the rest of the Sanchez family of a caring and uplifting soul. The pain of it all was unyielding. Jag kept hearing her voice singing softly somewhere in his mind.
He turned the wheel sharply and the truck skidded onto the gravel driveway to the farmhouse. He parked and, not bothering to remove the keys, stepped down from the vehicle. Feet hit the ground behind him, followed by two doors slamming shut. Kody and Mariah shouted at him to stop but he pointedly ignored them. A few jagged lengths of scrap metal rested beside the barn. He scooped one up and walked with long, steady strides to the back of the edifice. As the shipping container came into sight, heat rose up his body and his face darkened with hatred.
Before either Kody or Mariah could catch up to him, he was in front of the container, waving the metal piece above his head. With a roar, he brought it down on the latch, smashing it open. He threw open the container doors, wielding the piece of metal like an axe.
The snarl he wore evaporated and he lowered his weapon. Kody and Mariah quietly stepped up on either side of him and gaped. Weak-kneed, Jag walked into the empty container and looked around. “Where are they?”
His friends kept silent and watched as he paced in circles, his agitation mounting. “What’s going on? The door was still secured wh
en we got here—there’s no way they could have gotten out! Where are they?”
Using a two-handed grip, he dashed his weapon against the side of the container, gouging it and evoking a loud, piercing clang that stunned his eardrums. Mariah and Kody exited the container, wincing and covering their heads. Jag nailed the side of the container again and again. He didn’t care if his ears bled.
“How did they get out?” he bellowed. He spun around, the container a dark blur from the motion and frenzy. Before he was able to register his thoughts, he bellowed again. “I’ll find you, Tony! I’ll find you and if you don’t take me to your boss, I’ll just kill you! I’ll kill you, I swear it!”
In the midst of the storm in his head, a man’s voice entered his mind. Jag.
Clang! Jag hit the side panel again, trying to drown out the voice.
Jag, the man repeated.
Clang!
Jag, please.
Clang!
Respond to me, youngling, I implore you.
CLANG!
Jag! Please!
“What!” he exploded. “What do you want?” Then, remembering that he hadn’t been thinking the words, shot them out mentally to Nageau with just as much intensity.
The Elder sighed. I heard the news, youngling. I am so—
You’re sorry. Yeah, everyone’s sorry. Thanks. Jag swung at the container wall again but when he felt warmth trickle from his hands down to his elbows, he slowly walked over to the door and in the light, saw that the metal scrap he held was stained red. Still gripping the improvised weapon, he rolled his hands slightly so they were wrist-up. Streaks of blood trailed down his forearms. He dropped the metal and stared at the crimson on his skin.
The Elder remained quiet for a time, then said, We moved them.
Jag’s head shot up and he glared as if Nageau was standing in front of him. What?
The men you captured. We moved them. They are headed to a secure location for interrogation.
How—why? Why did you interfere?
Revenge is not what we are about, youngling.
Jag bristled. You had no right to move them!
What would you have done with them if they were still there?
He raged silently, refusing to respond.
Nageau’s voice was gentle. Tayoka speaks very highly of you, you know that? He watched you grow as he trained you last summer. There is so much goodness in you. He pleads for you to shine light in the darkness, not become the darkness. Stay true to yourself, Jag. Do not lose who you are.
Jag kicked the metal scrap a good distance out of the container and stumbled outside. It hurt to hear the Elder echo his grandmother’s last words to him. Shame followed quickly at the thought that his intentions for Tony would have let her down, shadowed by indignation and the need to justify what he’d wanted to do.
Do you believe your grandmother is gone, youngling?
She’s passed on, Elder Nageau, Jag answered bitingly. She’s no longer here with us.
But do you truly believe that she is gone?
If you’re going to tell me that she’s living on in my heart, I swear I’m gonna lose my—
No, that is not what I meant. Not entirely.
What did you mean, then?
Let me try to explain. This life here on Earth, this brief moment in time and space, is but a tiny piece of the entire fabric of our existence. Human language is bound by the limits of our physical experience. It is woefully inadequate to describe the next plane of existence that awaits us when we surrender this life. But there are signs here in the physical realm that gives us insights, a window if you will, to the next stage of our being, if we cared to look.
Meaning?
For example, an unborn child carried by its mother is comfortable and snug in its own world and does not have the capability to imagine, let alone understand, the world that awaits it. Though in reality, that world is right here and right now. All that separates the child from this beautiful place where it must eventually arrive is a layer of skin. Likewise, all that separates us from the next reality is our very bodies. When we lay ourselves down to rest one last time, we experience wonders of the next world just as a child experiences the wonders of this one when it is finally born. Your grandmother has stepped into an infinitely extraordinary plane of existence, not limited by the shackles of the physical world. Her love for you will never diminish and you will feel the evidence of this in a myriad of mysterious ways whenever the universe opens its portals. You must honor her by being the best you can be and continuing to walk the path you have been destined for.
And what path is that? It was a rhetorical question that really meant to say: I’ve had enough of this destiny.
The five of you have been chosen by the hand of fate to—
No, I know all that.
Ah, my dear boy, I know that you know, but there is a difference between knowledge and wisdom. Wisdom gives us lucidity so that we may use our best judgment, completely detached from impulse, and distinguish the right path to tread.
Jag slid down so he was sitting on the dirt. You’re not just talking about our destiny.
It is all intertwined. I am not saying that this will be free from pain and challenges. Revenge can . . . can in some ways be an easier path to take than holding back. However, we cannot use the enemy’s means to change the world. We can only change it with light.
And if the darkness swallows the light whole?
That is impossible, because darkness is but the absence of light.
May be so. But if it weren’t for the people who created the nanomites, my grandmother would still be here. My grandfather wouldn’t be alone and my dad wouldn’t have lost his mom.
I am not saying darkness is incapable of inflicting pain, only that it grows when light dims. There is only so much consolation words can provide, youngling. Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do to bring our loved ones back to this realm once they have moved on. If you truly wish to honor her, the best way is to put a stop to the root of this evil that is spreading throughout the world. You have done a great deal and the Elders will never be able to sufficiently express how proud we are of the five of you. For now, though, Jag, you need to stay strong and take care of your family, especially your grandfather.
That’s another thing. Elder Nageau, how long will we have to keep this part of our lives a secret from our families?
You will not have to hide it for much longer, I promise.
Uh . . .
Tend to your family for now. The five of you will be needed again soon as the dark clouds gather in strength and the world descends into turmoil. As Bearers of Light appointed by the prophecy, you, Tegan, Mariah, Kody and Aari have roles that will become more significant in the coming months. The Elder paused, then added ruefully, Especially now that we know who is the catalyst behind the storm.
Jag, startled, looked up from his bloodied hands. Who is it?
Nageau took a few moments before replying. Someone I banished from Dema-Ki many years ago.
Jag’s mind reeled. Some things were falling into place while more fell out. You—what . . . what are you . . . You have to tell me more!
I will, Jag, I will. Soon.
71
The five sat with Marshall on the steps of the Sanchez farmhouse, facing the stalks that remained in the wheat field. The sun had nearly disappeared from the horizon but the sky was a canvas of color that the hand of no man could replicate.
It had been relatively quiet since Tegan, Aari and Marshall returned to Concordia that afternoon. As they waited for Jag’s family to arrive at the farm, the friends stuck as close to Jag as they could. Though he showed little emotion, they knew he was grieving. Through persistence, Kody and Mariah had gone with him to fetch his grandfather earlier in the day; Hugo was now resting in his room.
The Jeep they’d used for the trip had made a sudden reappearance that afternoon as well. The friends had found the vehicle parked outside the farmhouse. Knowing that they could onl
y credit this return to one source, they had all turned to Marshall probingly. He’d simply winked at them and said, “Connections. Don’t want Jag’s family coming here and wondering where their car is, do we?”
Tegan watched a crow soar over the field, its wings narrowly missing the headless stalks. She was tempted to jump into the feathered creature and fly into the sunset, to enjoy the feeling of freedom and briefly leave her memories of recent events behind. When she looked over at Jag, though, the sadness in his eyes persuaded her to remain where she was.
Marshall folded his arms on his knees. “You five surprised me beyond words. In a good way, of course. And you’ve also helped deepen my faith in the prophecy.”
“You had doubts?” Mariah asked, somewhat in jest.
“Not doubts, per se. It’s just that you’re all so young. Having juggled the responsibilities of a Sentry and a Marine myself was a humbling burden, but then, I’ve had years to learn to cope with both tasks. When we first met, I was troubled because . . . because I’ve had a taste of what would be expected of you and I didn’t want to see any of you losing your youth to this.”
The five turned to him, and warmth blossomed in Tegan’s chest. Marshall continued looking ahead at the field as he went on. “It worried me to the point that I felt almost . . . well, ill. But I’ve seen how you handle yourselves, how resourceful you are. You look out for one another and don’t go down without a fight. You handled all these situations better than I could imagine. There’s something special about you individually and as a group that seems especially rare in today’s world, where selfish pursuits and the coarsening of culture is quickly becoming a norm.”
“That’s a lot of faith you’re putting in us,” Aari said. Tegan caught a hitch of meekness in his voice.
“As I said, I’ve seen what you can do. That gives me reason to have faith in you.”
Jag extended his hand over the laps of Tegan and Kody toward the Sentry. “Thanks, Marshall.”
The Sentry took his hand and shook it firmly, then after a few moments, stood up. “I think it’s about time for me to get going.”