I’ll watch over him, Martin told me, and in his voice I heard the sorrow that he hadn’t been able to do the same for Michael, that things had happened too fast even for an advanced multidimensional being. Light radiated from him, wrapping itself around Lance, who paid no mind, only slammed a fresh clip into his Ruger and kept firing.
And then I was running, feeling the whispering energies of the vortex tearing at me as my adversary twisted them in on themselves, seeking to use them, not to heal and uplift, but to murder and destroy.
But in doing so he had to open himself to them, and I sensed it then, felt just the smallest tremor in the power flux around me. That flicker told me he wasn’t invincible.
Even so, I heard him in my mind, invading my thoughts with an intimacy only Martin should have had. So she thinks she can fight me.
Yes, she does, I flung back at him.
You aren’t strong enough. You will fail, just like that fool who lies dead on the earth behind you.
Rage flared in me then that he would dare to call Michael — strong, caring, quiet Michael — a “fool.” For I knew he’d taken the brunt of the attack out of love for me, out of love for this world. And with that realization, I understood how I could prevail.
I loved Michael, loved the quiet laughter in his eyes as he watched our little group of UFO hunters tease one another, loved the awe in his face as he looked on this land he adored. And I loved Lance, and the way he watched over Grace, the child of another man, and the way he’d bend and kiss Kara softly on her cheek when he thought no one was looking. I loved Paul and Persephone, how their eyes always sought one another’s from across a room, and how they’d smile, as if acknowledging that all they needed to be happy was each other. And I loved my sister, her strength, her caring heart. I even loved the way Jeff would scrunch his nose when he was concentrating on something, or how the members of our local MUFON group would watch over the ones without family, would drive one another to doctor’s appointments or sit up with those bereaved, or even make sure single moms had a babysitter when they’d finally managed to get a date.
I loved them all.
And I loved this place, the red rocks and the green trees and the quiet creek that flowed through it all, bringing with it protection and life and strength. Sunlight on the edge of a leaf. Water sparkling under a full moon. Snow on the ridge lines, wildflowers in the spring.
All of it so wonderful, so perfect.
I had to save it.
Somewhere in that split-second between one heartbeat and the next, I felt the power blossoming in me, and I knew it wasn’t really me, but this world — my world — giving me its energy, letting me take those vortex energies in my hand, pulling them away from the alien leader and his hateful intentions, seeing those rivers of light turn pure white-gold again, just before all that power, all that strength, seemed to gather in me and then burst outward, bathing the top of Courthouse Butte in pale fire, surrounding him before he turned to ash and blew away on the wind, rushing outward to engulf those of his followers who still remained, sending them from this existence like a windstorm scattering autumn leaves.
Gone, all gone.
I sank to my knees, gasping for air as the energy swirled around me, warm and clean, seeming to caress my face, my hair, then dwindled, returning to the earth that had given it birth. Men’s voices in my ears as Martin and Lance ran to me across a hilltop now empty save for the three of us.
“Remind me never to get you angry,” Lance remarked, although something in his tone told me he wasn’t quite as flip as he tried to sound.
Martin bent and took my hands, lifting me up. Are you all right?
I’m fine. Well, at least I thought I was fine. I still couldn’t quite absorb what had happened. In time I might be able to wrap my head around it. Maybe. You could get us down off this butte, though. I’m freezing my ass off.
He grinned, teeth flashing in the moonlight. The smile abruptly faded, though, as he looked upward, at a white glow appearing somewhere above us. I sucked in a breath, wondering what was coming next. I was so very tired. I didn’t know if I could defend myself against yet another attack.
The glow resolved itself into the form of a man, one I recognized…and wasn’t all that happy to see.
“Otto,” Martin said in resigned tones.
Persephone’s spirit guide came to rest on the rocky red earth. Well, almost. I noticed he hovered a few inches above the ground rather than actually standing on it. Maybe he didn’t want to get those glowing opal-white robes of his dirty. Beside me, I felt rather than saw Lance’s eyes widen, and I guessed that somehow, despite everything, he hadn’t quite believed that Otto really existed.
Unfortunately, I was all too aware of his existence.
Otto shot Martin a disapproving glare. “You interfered.”
“You left me no choice.”
A purse of those perfect lips. “Nevertheless, you disobeyed a direct order, came here — ”
I broke in. “Wait a second. Is that where you were, Martin?”
Mouth unsmiling, he replied, “I was brought in for a little talking-to.”
“For what?” I demanded, and then sent an accusing stare in Otto’s direction. “Are you trying to tell me that you yanked him away when I needed him the most, just because he broke some stupid arbitrary rule?”
“It is not stupid, and it is not arbitrary. We do all things for a reason, a higher purpose, Kirsten Swenson, even if such things are beyond the limits of your admittedly narrow perception.”
“Now, just a minute,” Lance said. “You might want to watch what you’re saying.”
Otto raised an eyebrow, then continued as if Lance weren’t even there, “It is not for you to pass judgment on our actions.”
“No, you apparently just want to do that to us.” I planted my hands on my hips, weirdly glad for this chance to be angry with him. That way, I wouldn’t have to think about Michael’s broken body lying on the other side of the hilltop. “Doesn’t it matter that we won, that the Reptilians were defeated? That we’re safe?”
“Of course it matters,” Otto replied, this time sounding distinctly waspish. “The order of the universe would have been disrupted if your foes had prevailed. However, there was a good chance you could have succeeded without Martin Jones’ interference. You didn’t need him.”
Didn’t need him? How could Otto even say that, when every moment Martin was gone had felt like agony, when we could never have gotten here in time without him? “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m afraid I do. You’re thinking that you required his assistance to get here in the small amount of time you had left before the solstice. That power also lay within you, if you had only attempted to tap into it.”
I didn’t believe that for a second. Channeling vortex energies was one thing. Folding the very fabric of reality so we could hopscotch across miles within the space of a single breath? I didn’t think so.
Beside me, Martin crossed his arms. His breath sent white puffs into the icy air as he said, “Get it over with, Otto.”
“Get what over with?” I demanded.
Without looking at me, Otto said, “Because you, Martin Jones, ignored our primary rule and interfered directly with the people of this world, thus possibly changing the course of their history forever, you have brought down your own people’s harshest judgment.”
Because he stood so close to me, I felt a tremor go through Martin. I reached out and took his hand in mine, wrapping gloved fingers in gloved fingers, wishing I could feel his flesh. Maybe that would have given him the reassurance he needed.
“From here on you are exiled, your powers stripped from you. This world will now be your only home, and you may not appeal to us for aid, or counsel, ever again.”
Martin stood straight as his sentence was handed down, eyes fixed on Otto, jaw set. He didn’t even blink. But I could sense how tense he was, tightly stretched as a bowstring. “Anything else?”
/> “I would think that would be sufficient.”
An awful silence descended. Lance held himself still, as if knowing he’d just been witness to something he rather would not have seen.
But the anger still swirled in me, and I held on to it, using its heat to give me the courage to speak, since it was clear Martin would say nothing else. “Well, that’s a pretty shitty thing to do after he helped save a world and everything.”
Otto’s dark eyes bored into me. “We have our laws for a reason.”
“Maybe so, but being so inflexible on those laws tells me you aren’t quite as advanced as you think you are.”
“Enough.” I could tell from Otto’s tone that he would have dearly loved to pitch me over the edge of Courthouse Butte. “Your foolish arguments will change nothing.”
“Okay, fine,” I said, and tightened my fingers around Martin’s. “But I still need to ask you a favor.”
This time both of Otto’s eyebrows went up. “You’re asking a favor of me?”
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “If Martin’s powers have been stripped from him, then someone’s going to have to get us off this butte.”
* * *
It was a sad procession that made its way up the front walk to Michael’s house, Martin and Lance carrying his body between them, with me following a pace or two behind. Somehow I’d managed not to cry on the way over, mostly because I was so exhausted I didn’t think I had the strength left for weeping. And something about the tight, closed expression on Martin’s face kept me from saying much of anything to him, either.
Otto had left us here, whisking us away from the windswept butte without a word, then disappearing. Just as well. We’d all had enough of him by that point, even if he did grudgingly rescue us from being trapped a thousand feet up in the air with no way to get down.
Kara must have been watching out the front window, because she opened the door as soon as Lance and Martin approached. The relief on her face died as she glanced down at Michael’s limp form. Slowly, Lance shook his head.
Her breath went in, and then she burst into tears, sobbing in a way I somehow couldn’t as Martin and Lance pushed past her so they could lay him down on his bed. Past them I heard Paul’s and Persephone’s worried voices, followed by a shocked silence as they took in the situation. And Jeff sat at the dropleaf table, hands finally stilled on the keyboard, as if he’d just realized there was nothing more he could do.
I looked down at Michael as they took off his boots, pulled the covers over him, and somehow it felt as if I couldn’t breathe.
I might have saved the world, but I knew it would never be the same again.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I went with Lance to retrieve our things from the suite at the Enchantment Resort, mostly because I knew if I had to sit around while Kara and Persephone called the ambulance for Michael, I’d go crazy. Martin had melted away, saying he would come to see me once things had settled down a bit. His leaving hurt and worried me, but I knew he had his own losses to deal with. I had to trust that this time his absence would be temporary. At least I knew it wasn’t coerced.
It didn’t take long to gather the meager items we’d left behind in the suite. I picked up Michael’s Bible from the table, and opened it at the little red ribbon he’d used to mark his place. “I will lift up mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help,” I read. Then I looked over at Lance. “I didn’t think Michael was religious.”
“He wasn’t,” Lance replied, zipping up his rucksack. “He was spiritual. That must have been what he needed to read before…well, before.”
I glanced back down at the closely printed words on the page. No wonder Michael had needed those reading glasses. …The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.
And then the tiny print blurred, and the tears welled up from nowhere, splashing down on the fine paper, sobs tearing through me, blinding me. I felt Lance take the Bible from my hands, very gently, and then he held me, rocking me back and forth, not saying anything, just being there, solid and strong and unwavering, and I knew he was glad I wept, glad I could do this when he couldn’t. After all, he’d loved Michael, too.
* * *
The memorial service was two days later. We’d put out the story that Michael had died of a heart attack in his sleep, and because he was sixty-two no one commented on it too much, except to say it was a shame he’d been taken away so soon, and that he’d always seemed so healthy, and how these things were always a surprise.
Because it was Sedona, and because it was Michael, the people gathered to celebrate his life — not to mourn, Kara had told me fiercely, because Michael wouldn’t have wanted that — were an eclectic crew, to say the least. Michael’s older brother, in from Payson, boots shined and a look of pure sorrow on his face. I knew Michael had no other family; his wife Anna had died more than a quarter-century earlier, and they’d had no children. Well, he was with her now.
Shamans and psychics and palm readers, UFO chasers and bookstore owners. Everyone knew Michael. No one wore black, and the crowd had a gaudy cheerfulness, what with the bright jewelry and spangled skirts and multi-hued scarves. Paul was the only one wearing a sport jacket.
Well, strike that about no one wearing black. Martin stood off in a corner of the Creative Life Center facility where the service was being held, his black suit marking him as something different, something other. I saw a few glances cast his way, but no one made a move to approach him, wrapped in their grief as they were.
After the service ended, I made my way back to him. “You could have sat with me.”
“You were with your family,” he replied, with a brief nod toward where Kara and Lance stood talking with Michael’s brother. Grace slept on Kara’s shoulder, pink fleece onesie an incongruous note against the dark blue dress Kara wore.
I wanted to ask, Don’t you want to be with my family? but was too nervous to be that bold. Ever since Otto had laid down his sentence, Martin had been quiet and withdrawn. He’d returned to the cabin at Forest Houses, while I was staying with Kara until I could get my apartment sorted out.
“Still,” I said, and paused. I hated this feeling of not knowing what to say to him, not knowing how to make things right.
He was silent for a moment, then asked, “Will you come with me somewhere tomorrow?”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” I said stupidly.
An almost smile. “Just to Flagstaff. You’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“And will you come to dinner?” I hadn’t dared to ask him before this. “We’re all going to squeeze in at Kara’s — Paul and Persephone are, I mean.”
Jeff had left for Los Angeles the day before. I’d tried to get him to stay, at least for Michael’s service, but he’d just mumbled that he didn’t want to be here anymore, wanted to get back to L.A. I supposed I couldn’t really blame him. It was pretty clear that the standoff between Martin and me wasn’t going to result in my suddenly transferring my affections to Jeff. And besides that, everything had gotten a little too real for him. Better to go back home and hole up in his house and bury himself in code. Return to ignoring the real world the way he always had. I wondered what conspiracy theories he’d immerse himself in this time, now that the Reptilians had been routed.
“We’ll see,” Martin told me, which could have meant anything. “Let’s go to Flagstaff first.”
I didn’t know what was in Flagstaff that could be so important we’d have to go see it on Christmas Eve day, but as long as he had me back in time for dinner, I couldn’t see the harm. My skills in the kitchen were limited at best, so Kara wasn’t expecting me to help out much beyond polishing the silverware and making sure she had all of Grandma’s china platters and serving pieces ready to hand.
“All right,” I said.
“I’ll pick you up at noon.” And he reached out and touched my hand briefly befor
e turning away and heading out the door, leaving me to endure the rest of the memorial gathering without him by my side.
* * *
I’d worried that the weather might not cooperate with our planned drive to Flagstaff, but the sky was clear and serenely blue, dotted with clouds, though not enough to threaten any kind of precipitation. Martin pulled up to Kara’s house precisely at noon. She hadn’t been thrilled by the outing, but since I swore I’d be back by five at the latest, she hadn’t protested too much.
“So they let you keep the car?” I asked, as I slid into the Taurus and buckled my seatbelt.
He pulled away from the curb before answering, “Yes. And my job, if I want it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. As far as I knew, in his “Man in Black” capacity, Martin had been based in Phoenix. So did that mean he wouldn’t be hanging around much longer?
Suddenly I found it difficult to swallow.
Neither of us said anything as he drove through town, traffic light because of the impending holiday. Not many people were heading up 89A into Flagstaff, probably because the interstate was faster. Somehow I was glad we were going this way, though, glad I could watch the trees pass by, could catch glimpses of Oak Creek rushing over its boulders and feel the sparkling beauty of its energy even from inside the car. I didn’t know if Martin could sense it or not. Otto had said Martin would be stripped of his powers, but did that mean everything, or just the ones he could use to play with time and space? He hadn’t attempted to communicate with me mentally since then, but whether that was from reticence or simple inability, I couldn’t be sure.
When we passed the turnoff to Forest Houses, I drew in a little breath, wishing we were going there. Maybe if we could be alone together in that place where we’d first come to explore our love, we could make things better.
But we whizzed past the scattered collection of cabins, and up the switchbacks that climbed the thousand-plus feet to take us out of the canyon, and then we were driving through ponderosa forests with snow thick among the trees. Up here in the winter, when it snowed, it generally stayed.
sedona files - books one to three Page 80