Who Shall Guard the Guardian Themselves

by K Ryn

  "I'm okay, man. Just cold and majorly tired," Blair said reassuringly.

  A tentative smile broke across the older man's face and despite the circumstances, Blair felt an answering grin filling his own. "What? What's so funny?"

  "I think you just set some kind of record, Chief. Those are the first words you've said in over 30 minutes."

  Blair raised an eyebrow in surprise. If that much time had passed -- he'd been further 'out of it' than he'd realized. Given his normal tendency to let his mouth run non-stop -- especially when he was nervous or frightened -- it was no wonder that Jim was worried. "Brevity, man, remember?" he said with forced lightness.

  The Sentinel's reply was a soft grunt and a shake of his head as he pushed his Guide gently backward into the support of the rocks, his hands carefully probing the younger man's injuries. Blair endured the scrutiny without objection, recognizing that his companion needed the tangible confirmation to ease his fears.

  "Nothing's broken, Chief," the older man murmured softly, finally satisfied with his examination. He settled on the ground next to Blair, digging the water bottle and some foodstuffs out of his own pack and handing them to the younger man.

  "Good to hear," Blair responded, taking the proffered items. "Your timing was excellent, by the way. As usual. Thanks."

  Jim's head snapped up, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with anger and guilt. "I should have been there earlier, but I had to deal with some of Anders' men. I didn't want to take the chance of leading them to you. And then I was almost too late. Bailey would have... I'm sorry Blair... about all of this. You're in danger because of me. I should have seen through this whole thing before it got this far."

  "Cut yourself some slack on the guilt front, man," Blair admonished his partner. "We were set up by experts. But we figured it out, right? We're still ahead of the game. All we have to do is find a way to get home free."

  "Might be easier said than done, Chief. Like you said, we were set up by someone with a lot of expertise. Whether it was Anders or his superior, doesn't matter. The fact is, they're good. And they've got the advantage in equipment and personnel. We've got minimal firepower and neither one of us is in any shape to handle a fast, cross-country escape. Not in this terrain."

  "We've been in tough spots before, Jim," Blair reminded him, hoping to dispel the older man's doubts and get him back on track. "They may have the numbers, but you're the Sentinel. They are way outclassed, man. They may think they know what you can do, but I've seen it first hand. So what's the plan?"

  Jim looked out into the forest, falling silent for a few moments. Blair could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. When the Sentinel looked back at him, he saw grim resolution in the older man's face.

  "First thing is to stay ahead of them and try to find some help, or at least get a message out that we need assistance," Jim said softly. "We're pretty deep into the park and from what I remember about the area, the closest ranger station is about fifteen miles to the west. Not an easy trek and it's a move Anders will undoubtedly anticipate. We're going to have to assume he has most of the logical escape routes covered. He's going to try to keep us contained in this area."

  The Sentinel's gaze shifted to the forest once more, his expression growing even grimmer.

  "They've found the bodies," he whispered. "Anders will assume we're together now. He'll concentrate the search efforts, probably spreading his men in a skirmish line in an attempt to surround us. That 'could' work in our favor. If we can get past them, we might be able to make it back to their camp... maybe steal a truck or at least get a signal out using their equipment."

  "But won't Anders be expecting us to try that? If you were in his place wouldn't you?" The silent nod from his partner confirmed Blair's query.

  "It's risky, but we don't have a whole lot of options, Chief."

  "I don't know... getting closer to those guys doesn't seem healthy..." Blair's voice trailed off as his gaze settled on his backpack. His eyes flashed wide open, his mind grasping at a possible solution.

  Without thinking, he made a quick move to grab the pack. The burst of pain which radiated from his injured ribs reminded him of how badly he was hurting and he let out a strangled gasp. Jim's hand was on his arm immediately, trying to shift him back toward the rocks, but Blair shrugged off the restraint, gritting his teeth as he leaned forward and grasped the straps, pulling the bag into his lap.

  "Sandburg..."

  Ignoring his partner's growling reprimand, Blair untied the pack and started digging through it.

  "What we need is something unexpected, right? What if instead of trying to get out of the park, we head further in? Say, up into the mountains?" Blair asked, still rummaging through the bag.

  "It's unexpected, but it's also not going to do us much good," Jim responded. "We'll be more isolated than we are now and we won't be any closer to finding help. Not unless you plan on using smoke signals."

  "It's an idea, but not quite what I had in mind," Blair murmured, pulling a small object out of his pack. "How about using this instead?"

  "You brought your cell phone?" asked Jim incredulously.

  "Hey, man, I never leave home without it. Not since I started working with you," Blair replied, grinning.

  "What else did you pack in that magic bag, Chief?"

  "Well I tried for your truck, but it didn't fit," Blair answered. "How about it? Think we can get through if we get enough altitude?"

  "It's worth a shot."

  "Great. You head out, I'll wait out the cavalry here."

  "No way, Sandburg. We go together."

  "Jim, listen to me," Blair pleaded, desperate to convince the Sentinel he was right. "You're the one they're after. I'm only going to slow you down. I won't risk that."

  "I think you're missing something, partner. Anders wanted both of us here, today. Not just me. He's not just looking to trap a Sentinel. He wants a Guide as well."

  Blair hoped that the darkness hid the terror he knew was evident on his face. "He wanted me only to get to you, man. To use me to control you. And that's what will happen if he catches up to us."

  "Whatever he wanted, he's not going to get it. That includes taking either one of us," Jim said firmly. "We're in this together, Chief. I'm not leaving you behind."

  The Sentinel kept them moving, herding his stumbling, exhausted Guide ahead of him as he watched for signs of pursuit. Darkness closed in with every step, cloaking them from their enemies, but also slowing their progress. With his vision adjusting automatically to the loss of light and his concentration focused behind them, Jim was unaware of just how black their world had become until Blair tripped and fell, sprawling to the rocky ground. He was at the younger man's side instantly. Jim started to lift his partner to his feet when he felt the tremors racking Blair's overtaxed body.

  "Stay put," he murmured, pressing his hand on a slim, trembling shoulder. "Take a minute to catch your breath."

  "No way, man... I'm... fine..." Blair's ragged gasps put the lie to his words, but he pushed against Jim's hold, struggling to get to his feet again.

  "Sandburg, I may cover your butt when you run out of grocery money at the end of the month, but I draw the line at carrying you up that mountain." The uncertainty in the eyes that stared up at him made Ellison soften his tone and drop the teasing banter. "It's okay, Blair. I don't hear anything. We've got a lead on them."

  "You sure?" There was an desperate edge to the whispered question.

  "Rest, Chief," Jim answered, putting all the reassurance he could into his voice. "Close your eyes for a few minutes if you can."

  Jim heard a soft sigh which was a mixture of relief and pain as Blair slumped to the cold ground, wrapping his arms around his body in an attempt to ward off the chill. Shrugging out of his jacket, the Sentinel draped it over the younger man's shivering form.

  "Thanks... just a few minutes... that'll... be... good..."

  Blair's voice faded as sleep took him. The Sentinel sat in guardianship a
t his Guide's side, scanning the night for danger. He knew the hunters were out there, searching for them even now. Extending his senses, he could hear soft, irregular sounds which were no natural part of the forest.

  A sudden low growl jerked his attention back to his immediate surroundings. A patch of inky blackness came to life, flowing toward them, taking a familiar shape before the Sentinel's sharp eyes.

  Another hunter stalked them by moonlight, yellow eyes glowing in the dark.

  The panther settled just beyond Blair, his tail slashing back and forth in agitation. As Jim watched, the lithe animal rose to its haunches and then continued to straighten, morphing into the ancient tribesman Jim had first encountered in Peru.

  Jim remained seated and silent as his Spirit Guide knelt beside his young friend, hands extended over the anthropologist's body, palms down. The old man's face creased into a scowl and he sat back on his heels, raising his head to fix Jim with an unreadable stare.

  "Your young Guide is in danger, Sentinel."

  "I know," Jim murmured, his jaw clenching as Anders' image filled his mind.

  The Shaman shook his head almost imperceptibly. "The threat to the body is dire, the threat to the soul even graver."

  Jim's eyes widened in alarm at his words. "I don't understand."

  "The seed of fear has taken root and flourished. It grows stronger now, out of control because he will not accept what he must."

  "What is it that he needs to accept?" Jim asked softly, his gaze flickering to his young partner before meeting the old man's eyes again.

  "Who he is." The Shaman shifted his gaze to Blair and frowned again. "The Way was not prepared. Both spirits suffer."

  "I don't understand... both spirits... Blair... and Incacha?"

  The Spirit Guide's form shifted to the panther for just an instant before taking the old man's shape again. He responded with a slight inclination of his head. "The elder remains, the younger resists. The path grows more difficult."

  "You're saying that part of Incacha is still here, within him?"

  Disbelief warred with a deeply-buried sense of understanding. Vague memories of stories Jim had heard as a child rippled through his mind -- tales of spirits who stayed chained to this plane of existence, whether due to the violence of their deaths or because their business on earth was unfinished. Added to that was what he remembered of the Chopec death rituals. The Spirit-Shaman was right. Incacha's death had caught them all by surprise. He hadn't had the time to prepare either himself or Blair for the transfer of his powers, whatever they were.

  As if reading his thoughts, the tribesman murmured, "The rites were not performed. Your Guide was frightened and now he refuses to listen."

  "Can you help him?"

  In answer, the Shaman placed his hands over Blair's sleeping body again, lowering them until they hovered bare inches from the younger man's chest. He held them there for a few moments, murmuring in an ancient tongue the Sentinel could hear, but only dimly understood. Jim watched the intent, ancient face anxiously, nearly crying out in frustration when the tribesman removed his hands and shook his head.

  "I cannot. He made his choice in fear. Now he must find the courage to choose again."

  Blind rage roared through Jim and he surged to his feet. "How dare you speak of choices? Since when did either of us really have a choice in any of this?"

  "Do you regret your own decision, Sentinel?"

  The soft question abruptly drained away Jim's anger. He stared down at Blair's still form, and shook his head sadly.

  "Not for myself... no. Not once I realized that the real choice wasn't whether to keep my senses or lose them, but to accept or deny myself. Before he died, Incacha told me the same thing, 'a Sentinel will always be a Sentinel, if he chooses to be.' But this... whatever this is, was Incacha's decision, not Blair's. Even being my Guide wasn't really his choice. It was mine. I knew I needed his help. I was desperate for it and afraid that he would leave."

  "So you bound him to you."

  "At first with his own eagerness and later with those things I knew he longed for. Trust, stability, friendship..." Jim shook his head angrily. "I trapped him as surely as Anders sought to trap us."

  "Are you that strong, Sentinel?"

  The words caught Jim off-guard and he looked down into the Shaman's face in confusion.

  "Do you truly believe yourself powerful enough to hold a Guide's spirit against his will?" The older man rose from his crouch, transforming into the panther once more as it leaped across Blair's body, directly toward him.

  Jim took a startled step backward as the huge cat landed with only a whisper of sound at his feet. In the blink of an eye, the panther rose, morphing back into the ancient tribesman.

  "Do not underestimate your companion, young warrior. His spirit is stronger than you can imagine," the Shaman warned, his eyes fierce. "Sentinel and Guide are destined to be bound together. To protect the tribe. To complete each other in equal partnership. It can be no other way."

  The old man's expression softened and the look he turned on Jim was full of compassion. "Your Guide's path is difficult, but not impossible. You know his strengths and his fears. Use that which has held you together from the beginning --"

  The Shaman broke off suddenly, growing so still and silent that he seemed to become invisible for a moment. Then his eyes shifted to Jim again, filled with a glowing intensity.

  "You world is filled with many dangers, Sentinel. Do not fear for your Guide. What holds him will help him to survive the darkness, if he allows it. You will not be unprotected, nor will he." The Shaman's form began to soften, merging into the darkness even as Jim opened his mouth to object.

  "Trust to the Guardians who come with the morning..."

  And he was gone, only the faintest echo of the panther's low, warning growl giving evidence that he had ever been there.

  The silence was suddenly broken by the sounds of other hunters. They had drawn close -- too close. Jim reached forward and shook Blair awake.

  "Blair, listen to me, we don't have much time. Do you trust me?"

  "Jim... what?" Confused, exhaustion-dulled eyes stared up at him, shifting slightly as the younger man sought to focus on Jim in the darkness.

  "Do you trust me?" the Sentinel demanded.

  "With my life, man," came the ragged whisper of affirmation.

  "Then trust Incacha. Let him help you."

  With a groan of anguish, Blair tried to pull away, shaking his head, his blue eyes widening even further in desperate fear.

  "Blair, stop it!" Jim hissed, grabbing the younger man's jacket, pinning him in place. Staring down into the grad student's terrified face, the Sentinel immediately softened his tone. "You've got to stop running from this. You've got to stop fighting him."

  "No! You're wrong. He's dead!"

  The raw terror in his friend's voice tore at Jim's soul. He let loose a string of silent invective against the men who were hunting them and at Anders in particular. He gulped down his own panic -- he could hear them now, a dozen men, rushing in to corner them from at least three sides. There was no time for this conversation, yet they had to have it, if the panther's promise that Blair would survive the darkness was to come true. Just as Incacha's legacy had been forced upon him without warning, without choice, now Jim was going to have to bludgeon his young Guide into acknowledging at least a portion of the truth.

  "I don't understand it, Blair, but I know that it's true. Some part of Incacha's spirit remained with you when he died. You've known it, too, deep inside, since the day he named you my Shaman."

  "How can you know that? How can you be so sure?" Blair's voice was a bare whisper, tinged with horror.

  "I saw the panther."

  Blair froze in his grasp. The stricken expression on his Guide's face made Jim shudder, but he forced himself to continue.

  "It shouldn't have happened. When Incacha gave my keeping over to you, his spirit should have gone free. But things went down too fast and
neither of you were ready. He knew he was dying and that all his knowledge and power would die with him unless he could pass it on to you. He was so desperate that he used force instead of compassion. And you were so afraid you slammed up a shield to keep what you didn't understand at bay. But you didn't shut it out. You trapped yourself on one side and Incacha on the other --"

  "Jim, stop --"

  "You've kept that wall of fear in place, building it higher and higher. But Incacha's spirit is still there, trying to make you listen, trying to help you understand, trying to undo the damage he's done."

  "Please... I can't..."

  The younger man's agonized plea was almost unbearable, but the Sentinel ignored it, driven by need and his own desperation.

  "You have to. Your life depends on it. When your head wouldn't listen, he somehow found a way to touch your heart, using your compassion and love of life to try to break down that shield and reach you. It bared your emotions. Left you vulnerable. That's what caused the attacks. Every death you saw during Haight's murder spree put another crack in the dam you'd built. Every drop of blood that was spilled today brought your spirit and Incacha's closer together."

  "And what happens then?" Blair's voice was hoarse, the words wrenched out of him, revealing the true cause of his fear. "What happens if... when I acknowledge him? Who do I become?"

  For a moment, time seemed suspended. The tortured questions of his Guide were so like those Jim had asked himself, when he'd made his choice to accept the return of his Sentinel abilities in Peru.

  ~Accept the truth.~

  "You become who you were meant to be."

  The repetitive 'whump' of heavy rotor blades and the whine of an overtaxed engine on low-level approach reached the Sentinel's ears, mixing with the furtive sounds of the searching men. He gripped the slender shoulders of his Guide even tighter, staring down into the terrified eyes, feeling every shudder that racked the younger man's body.

  "Blair, I know you're scared. I know you'd like nothing better than to have a few weeks to process all this in that multi-tasking head of yours, but there's no time."