by Terry Brooks
But after a month with no sign of the sylvan – let alone even the slightest suggestion of a possible encounter – Jack was forced to admit that his hopes were dimming. He still looked for his little friend, but in his heart-of-hearts, where hard truths were kept stowed away with bad memories, he found the inevitability of his disappointment impossible to ignore.
When thirty days had passed with not a single sighting of Pick, he abruptly found himself face-to-face with Two Bears.
It was late in the day, and he had pulled the ATV into the maintenance shed and was securing his equipment and tools when the big man appeared. He didn’t materialize out of thin air exactly…but close.
“Welcome back, Jack McCall,” he rumbled. He stood there, backlit by the fading sun, his large body casting its big shadow, holding a staff in one hand with just the hint of a smile on his granite face. “I have something for you.”
He extended the staff, obviously offering it. Jack took a moment to consider the gift. It was a black, gnarled length of wood, worn and scarred and riven with markings he could not quite make out, but which looked to be symbols or writing. Jack took a deep breath, reached out and took it.
Though he had expected it to be heavy, he was surprised to discover it was unexpectedly light. It was sturdy, but did not feel cumbersome or awkward in his hands. If anything, it felt to be exactly the right weight and thickness – an extension of himself that he could sense simply by how easily he was able to handle it.
“You are a Knight of the Word now, and such men and women, one and all, carry this staff as a symbol of their office and the power invested in them. It will seem a perfect fit for whoever bears it, but will serve you and only you while it remains yours. There is power in it that will keep you safe. Such power will reveal itself when it is needed. It will teach you what to expect of it, and what in turn it will expect of you.”
Oddly, there seemed to be unexpected warmth to the staff. “You make it sound like a living thing,” Jack remarked with a smile, hefting it experimentally.
Two Bears nodded. “Because it is.”
The smile dropped from Jack’s face. “It’s alive?”
The big man ignored the question. “You are never to go anywhere without it. Ever. When you set it down, for whatever the reason, you are never to place it beyond your reach. When you sleep, when you eat, when you leave your home and when you are in it, the staff must always be close at hand. This will cause you some inconvenience, I admit. But a Park Ranger carrying a staff will not seem all that unusual. No one will question that you bear it everywhere.”
Jack pictured himself in church or at a social function, black staff in hand. “If you say so.”
“Treat it as an extension of yourself. Treat it with respect. It is your strongest protection against the things that will come after you. It is your link to the Word, and it is the Word you now serve – just as the Lady and I do. You are a Knight of the Word, kem’sho, and you must never forget what that means.”
As if I ever knew, Jack thought, without speaking the words aloud. As if I had any real idea of what is expected of me.
“Who it is that you and the Lady keep talking about? Who do you think it is that will come for me?”
Two Bears leaned close. “Servants of the Void. It is the Void that seeks to destroy us all, Jack. Including – and perhaps especially – you.”
The big man straightened and turned away. A smile creased his stern countenance. “I do not think I have ever seen such a beautiful sunset. Look, Jack. Have you ever seen such a vivid display of colors in the evening sky?”
He stepped out of the maintenance shed and pointed to where the sun was dropping below the horizon, the light already become diffuse and the sky brilliantly colored with reds and pinks. He pointed as Jack joined him, and together they stared as the colors deepened and spread, and the summer day closed with an explosion of color.
“Can’t argue with you about how beautiful that was,” Jack said quietly, smiling in spite of himself. “I don’t know when . . .”
He turned to face Two Bears. “ . . . I last saw one like . . .”
He trailed off into silence because the big man was gone, and he was alone.
Although the resultant feelings were still new to him, they were ones he would get used to in the months ahead.
* * * * *
His first encounter with the servants of the Void – Men themselves, but demon-driven – happened less than two weeks later. Thanks to the staff Two Bears had brought him, he was not as unprepared as they thought to find him.
He was working in the far southeast corner of the park – down towards the river amid a large grove of aged oaks and elms and a few unnamed species that were so gnarled and twisted that some called them witch trees – gathering up deadwood to dump in a trailer hitched behind his ATV. He had been working there all day, save for short pauses to drink cold coffee from his thermos and one half-hour lunch break. It was a Monday, the week new. The neighborhood kids were back to school and their parents hard at work either at home or their place of employment. Traffic in the park had diminished to almost nothing – a few hikers; a mother with her very young children back near the entrance to the park, where the big toys were located; and a fisherman who had passed by on his way down to the river.
He was alone and decidedly isolated when the three men appeared out of the trees, dressed in leathers and jackboots and bearing chains and lengths of pipe. Jack didn’t see them at first, absorbed in his work, so they were almost on top of him before they finally managed to catch his attention.
“Looks like hard work,” said one, a big fellow with a bushy beard and sleeves cut off to reveal arms the size of Jack’s thighs. “Can’t be much fun.”
Jack shrugged. “It’s what I’m hired to do.” He gestured towards the piece of pipe the man was carrying. “You fellows come out here to help?”
Another man, small and lean and roped with muscle, almost every inch of his exposed body covered in ink, laughed. “Good one. ‘Help him out,’ he says.” He turned to the third man. “Guess that’s what we’re here for, right, Albie?”
“Naw, we ain’t here to help him out.” The last man spit into the dirt and shifted the length of chain he was holding from one hand to the other. He gave Jack a hard look. “We’re here to mess him up.”
Jack already knew what this was about and who these three were. He’d been expecting someone, of course – but not these three, and not so soon. He was about to be tested and there would be no talking them out of it. Whatever had brought them here, whatever persuasion had been used, it was to accomplish one thing and one thing only.
To demonstrate, in no uncertain terms, that Jack needed to be taught a lesson.
Jack walked around to the side of the trailer, reached in and withdrew the black staff. He didn’t say anything as he did so. Nor did he say anything as he walked back around the end of the trailer and up to the big man with the bushy beard and swung the staff with such force that, when the other man raised the pipe to ward off the blow, the staff shattered the iron into pieces.
The big man stood staring at the six inches of pipe that remained clutched in his left hand, shock etched on his features.
“Get him!” Albie roared, charging forward, chain swinging.
They were on him instantly, all three, chains and pipe, and now the big man had dropped what remained of his shattered weapon and snatched a knife from beneath his leathers. Jack braced to meet them, knowing he was in trouble. But something strange happened. Turning to meet their rush, Jack found his staff alive with bits of fire, the markings that were carved into its length suddenly bright. Sparks and flames erupted all up and down its length, but Jack felt no heat on the exposed flesh of his hands,
The staff – seemingly of its own volition – took over the fight. Two quick strikes, short and sharply dealt, were delivered almost before Jack knew what he was going to do. Down went the big man with bushy beard, felled with a blow to the head, his
knife skittering away. Down went the inked man, caught with a second blow that swept away the pipe he was carrying, hammering into his arm on the follow-through and breaking it; the crack was loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the struggle.
The last man, Albie, slowed, his features twisting into an animal-like snarl, words of hatred pouring from his mouth as he yanked out a gun. In Jack’s hands, the staff dropped so that its blunt end was pointing at the man. A burst of fire exploded from its length, engulfed the gun and melted it instantly, then climbed Albie’s arm in a hungry rush that sent him sprawling to the ground, where he rolled around in a desperate effort to smother the flames, howling as the fire licked hungrily at his clothing.
The struggle was over as quickly as it had begun. All three attackers lay prone, groaning and hugging themselves, eyes squeezed tight with pain, all the fight gone out of them. Jack walked over and looked down at them.
“Get out of this park and don’t come back. Don’t speak of this to anyone. Not one word of anything that’s happened. If you do or if I see you here again – anywhere in this community – I promise you won’t much like what happens.”
He took a moment to look at each of them in turn, making sure they were looking back. “Do you know what I am?” he whispered in something approaching a hiss. “Do you have any idea?”
They cringed visibly. “You’re the devil's spawn!” Albie cried, eyes wide with sudden realization.
Jack nodded. Close enough. “Get out of my sight.”
He watched them scramble to their feet and make their way back the way they had come, muttering to themselves and each other, casting frightened looks back at him, beaten predators he did not think would return. He could not deny the keen sense of satisfaction he felt on having passed his first test as a Knight of the Word. Discovering what his staff could do and how well he could protect himself if it became necessary was a revelation.
But he still was unsure of what the Lady expected of him in return. His service was centered on a single event, and he still had no idea of its nature. His ignorance nagged at him, and he was stymied over what to do about it.
Those feelings would stay with him for years to come, and when they were finally resolved, it would not be a pleasant experience.
Chapter 6
There were no further attempts at dissuading Jack from serving the Word following his encounter with the three thugs, and life went on pretty much as before.
He remained in his position as a park ranger for the municipality for several years, assigned to Sinnissippi Park and living in Hopewell. He moved out of his parent’s home by the end of the summer and into an apartment of his own. His work was steady and satisfying, and he advanced to become Assistant Director and eventually Director when the current office holder decided to retire to Arizona.
From there, his situation advanced dramatically. Five years into his new job, he was appointed Superintendent of Parks and Recreation for the entire county, and by the end of the following year had been asked to present at the National Convention of Parks and Recreation. He gave an impassioned speech about conservation in the face of rampant population growth, touching on the need for sustainable resources, which was well received and written up in several journals. Other administrators of parks and recreation facilities began coming to him for advice on issues of innovative development and nurturing of state and local parks, to the point where he became recognized as something of an expert.
He was soon in such demand that he opened a consulting business on the side and began supplying everything from advice to wide planning guides. By year’s end, he was advising and consulting with members of his field in more than a dozen midwestern states.
His social life, however, did not fare as well. He had a number of women friends, but nothing approaching a serious relationship. There were choices and opportunities, but none of them really interested him. Some of this was due to a failure to find common ground with these women, as their connection was limited to social gatherings and small talk. Some of it was due the demands of his job and his private advising work, which demanded long, frequently irregular hours. And some of it, he imagined, had a lot to do with his insistence on going everywhere with his black staff, no matter how inconvenient.
But mostly it was due to not finding anyone that excited him enough to want to pursue anything beyond a casual acquaintanceship.
Until he met Anne.
He first saw her at the annual National Convention of Parks and Recreation, two years following his first presentation, and it was an encounter that changed his life. He was there by invitation of the national board of administrators but was not presenting and had only come to hear what he hoped were new ideas and fresh approaches to management from others in the field.
She was partly there to meet him, but he didn’t find that out until later.
The convention kicked off with a meet and greet cocktail party of invitees and guests, offering an opportunity to renew old acquaintances. But the opportunities to find the people he wanted to see were severely limited simply by the huge number of attendees and the obvious difficulties of being able to find anyone in a room packed with hundreds of bodies.
An hour into the event, his interest in remaining was winding down. He had failed to find more than two of the people with whom he had hoped to speak, and was actually on his way towards the exit when she stepped in front of him.
“Mr. McCall, do you have a minute?” she asked.
Her smile alone was enough to stop him in his tracks. He smiled back. “Sure, but call me Jack. Mr. McCall is my father.”
She was tall and slender with curly blonde hair cut short and startling blue eyes. He tried not to stare, but he was already lost.
“I’m Anne,” she said and offered her hand. “I wanted to tell you how impressed I was with your speech on sustainable growth. I wasn’t there, but I watched the video later when my boss gave me a copy. You were so impassioned, so clearly dedicated to doing what you believed to be the right thing. You don’t see that often enough.”
Jack smiled. “I think I got carried away, but thanks. So, what are you doing here this year? Have you started coming regularly?”
She laughed. “Hardly. My boss couldn’t come and sent me in his place. I’m just a lowly assistant to the chief superintendent of the Seattle Park District, so I don’t get many chances like this. I came to get my feet wet. But I was hoping to meet you as well, so we could talk a bit about your speech.”
He smiled. “What are you doing right now?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“How about joining me for dinner?” He gave her a self-deprecating look. “In spite of my speaking prowess, I seem to find myself without a dinner partner, and I don’t much care for eating alone. What do you say?”
Her smile was back, and he felt electrified in the glow it produced. “I would love to.”
So off they went to dinner, and that was the beginning of everything that followed. While eating, they not only exchanged views on park management, but also ended up talking about themselves. Dinner courses came and went, and afterwards – when Jack had time to reflect on it – he could not remember a single thing he had eaten. He had an instant connection with her on so many levels it was astonishing. They shared a similar sense of humor, a larger worldview, a vision for park management, and even an agreement on movies and music.
By the end of the meal they were sharing much more personal parts of their history – he, for the first time in years, about his cancer; she, in a low, almost inaudible voice, about a violent attack she had suffered in college that had left her mute for almost a year. Their attraction for each other grew steadily stronger, and by the time Jack flew home again they had agreed they would like to see more of each other in the months ahead.
Within a month, he flew to Seattle to visit her, where she showed him around the city, visiting all the parks for which her department was responsible. He was so in love by then he could barel
y catch his breath, and was over the moon when it became clear she felt the same about him. The first night he spent at her apartment, Jack slept on the couch. By the second he was sharing her bed, and they were talking about a future together.
Within two months, he arranged for her to come visit him in Hopewell, where he introduced her to his parents and announced that they had decided to move in together. The sticking point was which city they would settle in, but it was resolved when she told him she could not leave her parents untended, as both were frail and in poor health. Jack never hesitated about moving, especially when she suggested that maybe it was time to let go of his municipal job and take up providing private management advice full-time. His parents, recognizing his strong attachment to this young woman whom they very much liked, urged him to go. They were older now, but still perfectly able to look after themselves. They would miss having him in Hopewell, but knew he had his own life to lead.
So he left his position as superintendent of parks, packed up his clothing and gear and moved west, driving across the country. By the end of the year, he had begun advertising his availability as a parks management consultant to the Pacific Northwest public and had become engaged. The wedding took place six months later, and for Jack McCall, a new life began.
He did not see Pick ever again. He would go back to Sinnissippi Park each time he returned to visit his parents and eventually to bury them, but neither of his fairy guardians ever showed themselves.
He did not hear again from the Lady in the years that followed, either. It was apparently not yet his time to serve. He did not come into contact with any other servants of the Void after that first encounter in the park, even though every day he kept expecting them to come for him once more.
He carried the black staff he had been given for protection everywhere he went but never told Anne the truth about it. He also never told her about the dreams the Lady had warned him to expect, in large part because the dreams hadn’t yet appeared.