Smoke and Mirrors

by K Ryn

  "No... but you might want me to."

  Jim took a mental step backward, reminding himself that this was the convoluted territory of Sandburg's psyche that he was trying to navigate. Even with a roadmap crafted by nearly three years of friendship, it was a difficult path to follow. The emotional pitfalls could easily swallow you alive if you weren't careful.

  "And why would I want that?" the Sentinel asked quietly.

  "It's kind of hard to explain." His Guide's voice was a bare whisper. Hesitant. Filled with longing and regret at the same time.

  Jim decided to test the theory about a straight line being the shortest distance between two points. "Does this have something to do with why my Spirit Guide showed up and camped himself outside your door the first night you were out of the loft?"

  Blair's bare feet thumped to the deck. "Your Spirit Guide did what?"

  "The panther was definitely displeased with your absence. He made that quite clear."

  "Nice to know I was missed." An awkward attempt at levity that fell flat and toneless.

  The Sentinel reached forward, touching his Guide lightly on the sleeve, needing the physical connection. "Blair... talk to me. Tell me what happened. Tell me what's still troubling you."

  A hard swallow. A resigned sigh.

  "I forgot who I was."

  The simple answer's myriad implications took Jim's breath away. Blair's hand reached up to grasp Jim's in reassurance.

  "It's okay. I found myself again. Most of me, anyway."

  The genuine smile that creased the younger man's face was a light to rival even that of the awakening city or the stars.

  Still, the sadness remained, damping the radiance.

  "Then what's the problem?" Jim pressed.

  Silence, underlaid with the whisper of Blair's fingers sliding through his hair in a familiar gesture of uncertainty. The Sentinel caught the rasp of another deep breath and its slow exhalation. He could almost hear the spinning wheels of his Guide's mind slow their frentetic pace as the younger man came to a decision...

  And gave his answer.

  "I always thought that I would do anything for you. For our partnership. I realized during this case, that there's something I can't do. Not if I want to remain true to who I am. What I am. That limitation scares me, because it could endanger you."

  "Chief, you're risked your own life to save mine. More times than I want to remember," Jim murmured. "What more could you do?"

  "I could do whatever it took to protect my partner... even if that meant taking a life..."

  "No, you couldn't," Jim objected. "Not and be who you are."

  "Exactly. That's the problem."

  The Sentinel prodded the investigation in a slightly different direction with another question. "When we were trapped... you said something. You said 'one trip through the fire wasn't enough.' What did that mean?"

  "The night I met Jankowski, I had a vision. Of a wall of fire. That's what kept me from chasing after him."

  "You never told me."

  "I didn't know what it meant... and then we were caught up in all the subterfuge. I didn't know if it was connected with the case. I didn't want to distract you. I didn't dare. It was my problem. I needed to deal with it."

  The random pieces of the puzzle that Jim had been holding -- that had, up until that point, failed to form any recognizable pattern -- suddenly locked together -- Simon's reluctance to discuss just what had led them to the apartment building after having lost him at the factory; Blair's reaction to the Internal Affairs officer's questions on the same topic; his Spirit Guide's appearance; the sense of danger that he'd been unable to pinpoint...

  "A premonition. That's how you knew where I was," the Sentinel murmured, his voice tinged with wonder.

  "Partly," his Guide admitted. "I should have realized what it was earlier. Maybe if I had... but I didn't. I didn't let myself." A disparaging laugh. "I think I broke the Shaman's code of ethics."

  "Because you forgot who you were."

  "Yeah. A Shaman seeks truth, Jim. He's supposed to see beyond the illusions. I didn't. I let myself get sucked into believing all the crap that we were broadcasting for Jenson. I gave life to the lies. That almost cost me. And you."

  Blair took a deep breath and plowed on.

  "The vision took on a life of its own. Scared the shit out of me. I couldn't face it. Not until you were missing and confronting it was the only thing I could think of to find you."

  "That was the battle..."

  "What?"

  "When you showed up out of the blue to rescue Andrew and me... I could tell something had happened. I remember thinking that you looked like you'd fought some kind of battle."

  "Hey, you're the one that was bleeding all over the floor, man," Blair responded. "I stage my fights on the metaphysical plane. Less blood loss that way."

  "But not appreciably less pain," Jim countered.

  "No... probably not," Blair admitted. He paused, turned to stare out into the night, and then lowered his gaze. He picked at the label on the bottle nervously. "I did finally manage to confront the damn thing. Screwed up my courage and walked through it. Burned off a layer or two of filth in the process. When I came out the other side, I knew where you were. Then it was just a matter of convincing Simon that I wasn't a candidate for the funny farm."

  Jim raised an eyebrow at that. He knew Blair couldn't see his expression in the darkness, but the younger man chuckled anyway as if he'd been expecting the reaction.

  "He was ready to bring in the guys in the white coats, Jim. Trust me. Ultimately, Simon did -- trust me, I mean." The Shaman's voice grew pensive again. "Passing the barrier of the vision not only told me where to find you, but it also revealed a hell of a lot about me. If I'm going to honor Incacha's legacy, then I need to be true to his teachings. And my own conscience. That's why I couldn't... I couldn't light that fire. I couldn't take those lives, even though I knew that they meant to kill us."

  "And you think I'd hold that against you? Well I don't. You're supposed to be an observer, Chief. Not an active participant." Blair shook his head and looked away, but Jim didn't give up. "I still don't understand what the problem is, Blair. By your own admission you walked through fire to save my life. Why would think I would want you to leave?"

  "Because I risked your life, man." There was stark terror in the gaze that the Guide turned toward his Sentinel. "First by not facing who I am, and then by accepting it. And I can't promise you that it won't happen again -- that at some point in the future I'll won't have to make a choice and you'll end up dying just to save my principles. Even if you don't want me to leave, I'm not sure I can stay, knowing that."

  "Chief, what you call principles are what men like Andrew and Incacha would call honor and duty. There's no disgrace or weakness in following that code. It's what separates you and them from men like Jenson or those that joined him."

  Jim could see that the younger man was unconvinced, so he shifted his attack.

  "You didn't fail me, Blair. You've never failed me. And you never will."

  "But..."

  "You never will. Not as long as you remain true to yourself. That's what I value, Chief. That's who I trust. You. I knew what this insanity that we were playing at was doing to you. I could see how much you were hurting. I'm sorry that it happened. And that you had to go through... what you went through, alone. Believe me. I wouldn't ask you to be something or someone that you're not. Being who you are is challenge enough."

  "I'm not sure I know how to take that, Jim," his Guide responded, one eyebrow raised in query. "Is that an insult or a compliment?"

  "You decide. You're the academic in this partnership."

  Jim softened his tone and dropped the teasing banter.

  "You're a bundle of raw energy, combined with a compassionate heart. You have ways of turning the world around you upside down and inside out -- and you still land on your feet. You invite everyone within your reach along on that magic carpet ride that is your
life, and we're all better for it. You're a Guide to a Sentinel. Shaman of the Great City. Teacher. Partner. Friend. Many hats; one unique person. Some people live their whole lives never knowing who they are, Blair. Accept the fact that you do as a blessing, not a failing or a limitation. I do."

  His Guide was silent, but the Sentinel could hear the even beating of his heart. It thrummed with life and peace. When Blair finally spoke, Jim didn't need enhanced senses to see the light shining in his eyes.

  "So, does this mean you're going to help me unpack?"

  "As soon as you go rescue dinner," Jim replied with a smirk. He rose to his feet and headed inside, still talking. "And wash the dishes, and clean up the mess you left on the coffee table, and..."

  "Hey, I thought you just acknowledged me as Shaman of the Great City. Don't I deserve some respect?" Blair shot back, rising from his chair as well.

  Another list of housekeeping duties answered that question as the Guide followed his Sentinel inside.

  "How about if I just wash the dishes on the astral plane? Will you buy that?"

  The sounds of their combined laughter echoed through the loft.

  END

  Author's Final Notes:

  I would be remiss if I did not offer attribution for the quotes or phrases that prefaced each section of the preceding story. Therefore, to authors and poets living on the earth or on the spirit plane, thank you. Credits are listed below.

  My days are crackled and gone up in smoke. -- Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven

  When a lovely flame dies,

  Smoke gets in your eyes. -- Otto Harbach

  Say Not the Struggle Nought Availeth -- Arthur Hugh Clough

  There is no fire without smoke. (There can no great smoke arise, but there must be some fire. -- Lily, Euphues)

  Only thin smoke without flame... -- Thomas Hardy

  Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror cracked from side to side. -- Tennyson

  The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart. -- Saint Jerome

  To hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. -- William Shakespeare

  I bid him look into the lives of men as though into a mirror, and from others to take an example for himself. -- Terence

  Speech is a mirror of the soul; as a man speaks, so is he. -- Publilius Syrus

  Hither and thither spins

  The windbourne, mirroring soul;

  A thousands glimpses wins,

  And never sees a whole. -- Matthew Arnold

  About, about, in reel and rout The death fires danced at night. -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

  You who dirty the mirror, cry that it isn't clean. -- Juana Ines de la Cruz

  Comments? Please e-mail me at kdkm@aol.com. Thanks!