Lingering Haze (The Elusive Strain Book 1)

by James Berardinelli

  He approached me cautiously, almost as if he was as wary of me as I was of him. Then, with a shock of recognition, I knew who he was: the man from Camp Harmony. The one who had said, “Come with me, girl! Come with me or I’ll just have to find you again.” It made no sense. That had been three years ago!

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as he approached. The circumstances argued that those words might not be entirely truthful.

  I found my voice, “What do you want?” Like him, I was whispering. Perhaps I should have been screaming at the top of my lungs but his threat and the unnerving sense that he could make good on it kept me quiet. I would have backed up but the aluminum door was behind me.

  “To prepare you for what is to come. None of this will make sense to you now, nor should it. But in another time, another place…Only I can give you the tools you will need to endure your ordeal.”

  By now, he had approached within touching distance. He smelled…odd. I had been around many unclean old men before and their scent was the same: a cologne of dried sweat and urine spiced with a hint of mold or mildew. With this stranger, it was different, a little like a musty attic or basement mingled with singed hair. The closer he got, the stronger the odor of burnt flesh became.

  He was dressed in what appeared to be a sweatshirt and ill-fitting jeans. His feet, like mine, were bare. The hood was up, hiding his features. The light, affixed to the side of the house up and behind him, allowed his face to disappear into backlit shadows. A voice in my mind shouted for me to run but some power held me paralyzed, powerless to move. Strangely, however, the fear drained away. At the moment I should have been the most terrified, I was almost calm.

  Slowly, he reached out with both hands and gripped my head. His warm, supple fingers caressed my cheeks and temple almost lovingly. Then everything went blank. There was a moment of pain but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

  When I recovered, I was squatting at his feet. I had wet myself but it didn’t matter.

  “This memory will be hidden from you until the time when you need it. There are other things as well, things that must be. When you remember these words, seek out Alexander. He holds the key.”

  Then I forgot. Until now.

  I woke to find myself alone in the sleeping chamber. Alone except for Samell, that is. He was watching me the way he often did, with a serious, wistful expression.

  “That wasn’t a long sleep,” he said when my eyes opened. “How do you feel?”

  Not refreshed but not tired. But this nap hadn’t been about banishing fatigue; it had been about recovery this particular memory. A memory that changed everything. I wondered whether Bergeron had known. He had to be told.

  “Find the others and stay with them,” I told Samell. When he started to object, I cut him off. “I have to tell Bergeron what I just remembered. I don’t know if he can make sense of it but it changes my mission here.” There might be a way for me to go home. But I didn’t say that aloud. I didn’t want him to hear it because he might misinterpret it.

  The rest of the group was in the feeding chamber, consuming whatever foodstuffs Bergeron had set out for their morning meal. The Summoner was where I had left him, poring over maps. He glanced up when I entered. Seeing in my face that I had something to say, he put aside an atlas and gave me his undivided attention.

  I related the details of my new memory to him. Throughout my account, his features remained impassive. After I was done, a full minute of silence ensued before he made a remark. “It seems I have a lot to learn about the lore of Summoners. And here I thought I was a scholar.”

  His reaction angered me. I had just revealed a disconcerting snippet from my past and all he could think of was how it affected him.

  “If there was any doubt that you need to see Alexander, this removes it. I assume, although I can’t be certain, that your visitor was Lawrence. It’s too bad you can’t give a better description. Clothing isn’t helpful since he would have had to come across naked. And the scent is probably a result of the transition. I recall stinking like I had walked through an ash pit. This changes very little about our immediate goal, however, but it opens some intriguing long-term possibilities. And it indicates that, for whatever reason, Summoners were tinkering with you long before you were brought over. How and why are the obvious questions and I don’t think we’re going to be able to answer them until we get to Erenton.

  “Now,” he continued without pause. “It’s time to send your companions on their way back to West Fork. You, of course, will remain with me.”

  Bergeron’s declaration startled me but, on consideration, I decided that it made sense. As much as my companions’ presence would provide a sense of security, they weren’t needed. There was nothing here for them to do. I would be getting a crash course in magic from Bergeron then helping him with whatever he intended to do against the reavers. The best course of action for the others was to return to West Fork and add their voices to those of Gabriel and Stepan. At the very least, Willem and Ramila should have enough clout to get the elders’ attention. I would miss them all, of course, especially Samell. I was surprised to realize how much I had come to rely on him and how lonely things would be when he was gone.

  When I told the others about the decision, I received mixed reactions. Willem said nothing but nodded as if he had expected this. Ramila also thought it was sensible. The three from Aeris protested, however, with Samell being the most forceful.

  “Janelle, I came with you to be your guide, protector, and friend. I can’t be any of those things in West Fork if you’re still here,” he said. Esme and Alyssa voiced their agreement.

  “If there was any purpose to your staying, I’d welcome it, but Bergeron and I are going to be secluded and keeping you here doing nothing wouldn’t benefit anyone. When we left Aeris, you agreed to come with me to help me reach Bergeron. We’re here. Now we have to move forward with a new plan. Once I’m done here, I’ll come to West Fork and join you. But for now, there’s nothing you can do here and a great deal that might be accomplished if you return to West Fork. The town has to be made ready. I’m not sure what Bergeron and I can do against a force of reavers that large but I assume his goal will be to slow them down. They’ll come eventually and in greater numbers than West Fork is prepared for.”

  “And if they attack here when there’s no one to defend you?” Samell wasn’t giving up easily.

  “As much as it pains for me to admit it, I don’t think a small group of armed guardians is going to make much of a difference if the reavers come in force. And if only a small number comes, I’m sure Bergeron can take care of them.”

  Samell wasn’t happy but he conceded the logic of my arguments and, when he agreed to go, Esme and Alyssa capitulated as well. I felt bad because I knew how I would feel in their circumstances. I would fight tooth-and-nail to stay.

  Bergeron didn’t emerge to say goodbye but I accompanied them outside. It was a nice autumnal day - cool, crisp, and sunny. So much different from the heat and humidity that had dogged us when we left Aeris. How long ago had that been? Only a few weeks but it seemed like so much longer. The more days I spent in this world, the more remote my old life seemed. Given a chance, would I really want to go back?

  I had never been good at farewells and this was the first time I had been faced by one of significance in this land. Leaving Aeris had been different since Samell and Esme had remained by my side. Now, however, I was sending my two closest friends away. Necessity demanded this. It was the right thing to do. But that didn’t make it any easier.

  “Be careful, Janelle,” said Esme. “You don’t know him. I know he’s a Summoner and you need what he can give you but don’t trust him too much. There’s something about him…it’s hard to put into words.” She shrugged helplessly.

  “I know. I’ve felt it as well. I think it comes from using magic.” Specifically, from losing emotion as a result of using magic. “I’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”

 
Willem shook my hand without a word. He nodded, as if confirming something to himself, then stepped back.

  Alyssa said only, “We’ll miss you. Join us as soon as you can.”

  Ramila was equally brief, “When you get to West Fork, seek out my father and you’ll find us. Until then, try to stay alive. We’re going to need you.”

  That left Samell. He stepped close to me, closer than any of the others had. “I don’t feel good about leaving you. I promised…but you’re right. You have to stay with Bergeron and it’s pointless for me to loiter here waiting to get killed by an army of reavers. Whatever happens, know that I’ll be waiting for you.” He paused but instead of saying more, leaned into me until his lips brushed my cheek.

  “Goodbye,” I whispered, my voice husky. “We’ll meet again. I’ll find you in West Fork...or wherever. Look for me before the hour grows dark.”

  That was all there was to say. I stood outside and watched them leave – kept watching until they vanished behind a boulder that blocked my view to the south. I kept the tears at bay but one or two slipped out, especially when Samell turned back and our eyes connected across a great distance. I wondered if any of us would be able to keep the promises we had made at the parting. Suddenly, this world seemed to be an inhospitable place.

  Bergeron was waiting inside for me, continuing to study his maps. He pointed out several salient geographical features and I realized this was the first time I had seen a representation of this world on paper. “This map was drawn by Matthias, the most reputable map-maker in recent years. His travels took him all over the land, from sea to mountain, from the icy wastes in the north to the steaming jungles in the south.”

  He pointed to a spot deep in The Southern Peaks. “That’s where they are. Use your mind. Tell me what you see.”

  I concentrated and was shocked by how much stronger the host had gotten since the last time I had checked. It hardly required any concentration to pinpoint their location. Equally importantly, they were no longer concentrated in a single, tight area as before. They had begun to spread out, infesting an ever-increasing range of the mountains.

  “There are so many…” I was hardly aware of speaking aloud.

  “Tens of thousands, drawn to that location by the power of the daemon. The force is nearly complete. It will sweep out from there and overrun the west. They are assembling faster than I would have thought possible. Instead of having weeks, we have a day or two at most. Your companions won’t have reached West Fork by the time the reavers begin their march.”

  “Then the town is doomed.” I felt sick to my stomach.

  Bergeron nodded. “The reavers move quickly and don’t tire. They will crush West Fork and kill anyone trying to escape. Within two weeks, every living creature in the west will have been eradicated. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it…except perhaps you and me.”

  The statement was audacious. He thought there was something the two of us could do against such a hoard? Was he mad? I again cast my mind into the mountains to see if I had missed something but nothing there gave me reason to hope.

  “There is a way, or at least something we can do to make a difference. There’s much danger in it, though. I can’t guarantee either of us will survive. In fact, the odds are against it.”

  I digested his pronouncement and realized that the possibility of death didn’t frighten me the way it once had. “If we do nothing, are we more likely to survive?”

  “No. But you might live a little longer. You might be able to steal a few more days or weeks with your friends.”

  There wasn’t really a choice but I hadn’t expected there to be. “What do you need me to do?” And, just like that, my future - and possibly my death - was set.

  “When it comes to your involvement, we have to keep in mind your limitations. Much as I’d like you to be able to engage fully, the headaches and your blockage will limit the amount of magic you can wield. We have to husband your resources, using them sparingly and only when absolutely necessary. So your function will be to watch and be ready. If I need you, I’ll call for you. If you see something happening that I’m not aware of, like a physical attack when I’m otherwise occupied, you may have to handle that. I don’t have a script for how this is going to progress. Our goal is less to defeat the army than it is to delay and disorient them. Once we make our presence known, they’ll come for us and, because they’re creatures of magic and earth, our location under a mountain isn’t going to provide protection.”

  “What exactly are you going to do?”

  “Element-based magic has its strengths and weaknesses. There are synergies and counters. Earth is vulnerable to water, which can wear it down and disperse it. I propose to use my abilities to divert a mountain tributary into the area where the reavers are massing. If we’re lucky, it will kill a few but it will sow discord and chaos and force them to regroup. It will also make the daemon aware that it’s being watched and hunted.”

  “Do we want to confront the daemon?”

  “Want?? The last thing I can imagine is wanting to confront a daemon. This is a matter of necessity. Stopping the reavers, or at least severely retarding their progress, requires that we negate their leader.”

  “How do you kill a daemon?”

  “How indeed… Most physical attacks will be countered and magic won’t be effective against a creature of eldritch puissance. There are a few things I can try but, in the end, it may come down to a last act of desperation. If I fall, Janelle, you mustn’t attempt to fight the creature on your own. You lack the knowledge and skill to be able to overcome it and your internal inhibitions will prevent you from being able to stand against its full might. If the worst happens, flee to the east. Find the other Summoners and tell them of my fate. Don’t stop at West Fork. Don’t stop for anything.”

  Those were the words of a man who didn’t expect to survive this day. Out there in the mountains was a tsunami of earth and magic preparing to crash down on the west. And if Bergeron was the only thing standing between that wave of disaster and its victims, I could understand his fatalism. As for me…never before had I felt so inadequate to the task set before me.

  “When?” I asked, hoping we could at least wait long enough to give my companions a few more hours, not that such a meager amount of time was likely to make a difference.

  “Waiting gains us nothing and gives them everything. The sooner we strike, the better our slim chances will be.” He gripped my hand in what was intended to be a gesture of solidarity. Then it was time to begin.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Summoner’s Gambit

  “Concentrate, Janelle. Try to align your mind’s vision with mine. Sense what I sense. Experience what I experience. That link will be critical once we begin. You need to understand what I’m doing when I’m doing it, not just rely on seeing the results.”

  We had moved to a different chamber of Bergeron’s home, a cylindrical room with a concave floor. It was empty and nearly dark, with only a lantern hanging in a nearby hallway to provide scant illumination. We sat barefoot and cross-legged on the cold stone. “We’ll be facing creatures of the earth. The more intimate contact we have with their element, the better we’ll be able to sense their actions.” I was grateful that he didn’t suggest I strip naked and lie on the ground.

  “When you use magic, you have to learn to rely less on your natural senses, which aren’t attuned to your abilities, and more on your mind. Many lesser Summoners fashion self-imposed constraints based on what they can see, hear, feel, taste, and smell. Greatness and access to power comes through overcoming those limitations. If you can think of something, magic can make it real. Your imagination should be your only barrier. Now, pay attention.”

  I did my best to follow the mental trail he blazed but it was difficult. I wasn’t used to abandoning my physical body and relying on my mind-sense as my sole means of connection. Although being disembodied was a strange sensation, there was something freeing about the experience. I was a presen
ce, soaring unconstrained through the ether, able to go anywhere on a whim without being concerned about physical impediments or time constraints. There was so much more to the mind-sense than I had previously realized. It wasn’t merely a means to “see” beyond the range of my eyes’ vision. It opened a window on an entirely different plane of existence.

  Could I accomplish this unchaperoned? That was a dubious proposition. I felt inadequate to the task - transforming my understanding of magic from concrete to abstract wasn’t something I could do on the spot. I wasn’t sure whether I would ever be able to change my thinking to accommodate it.

  You will be able to. It will take practice but it will come. The voice was as clear in my head as if I had originated the thought.

  Bergeron acknowledged my surprise. The link between us will remain anchored for as long as both of us are alive. It will allow us to communicate without the encumbrance of words. It will allow you to “see” what I do.

  He seemed to take it for granted that I would meekly accept this…link…without question or objection. But the idea that he was again inside my head, reading my thoughts, didn’t sit well with me. I was by nature a private person and to have lost even the most basic privacy was anathema. And if he could read my thoughts, why couldn’t I read his?

  I can understand your qualms and, if we survive what is to come, we can argue about the ethics of this later. As for reading my thoughts, they’re available to you. You only have to learn how to find them. The gateway to my mind is open; you only need step through. That also takes practice. You need to understand the workings of magic if you intend to replicate or adapt them. Some instruction can only come through action and we don’t have time to start with small things.

  “You set this up while you were in my mind?” I spoke the words out loud, an act that restored my awareness of my body. The sense of dissociation was profound – a part of me was with Bergeron’s consciousness, deep in The Southern Peaks launching an attack, while another piece sat placidly beside him in his underground manse. The impression was a little like how it felt when memories were re-integrated.