Mountain Echoes wp-8

by C. E. Murphy

  “Yeah. I’d guess there’s probably four or six hundred folks out here, if they’ve left town.”

  I thought about Cherokee town’s population. “That’s not very many.”

  “It’s as many as rebuilt the tribes after the Trail of Tears.”

  I was definitely being rebuked. Lucky for Dad, it took enough energy just to grind my teeth that I thought I’d better save what spark I had for what was coming, rather than snarling at him. “The military’s not looking very hard, if they haven’t found them. That many people would show up like a wildfire on infrared.”

  “You think they don’t know that? You think they’re not taking steps to avoid being found? Kids shelter in cave systems out here, or old mines. Hunters pack themselves with mud. We’ve got a lot to lose, Joanne.”

  I pressed my lips together, reminding myself I was unwilling to be drawn into an argument, particularly one I basically agreed with. If the escapees were out here living off the land through traditional methods I had nothing but respect for them, and didn’t think it was any of the government’s business. Especially since I was pretty confident there was no zombie apocalypse going on. Hunting the refugees down would only emphasize the level of control the federal government still held over reservations, rather than providing any level of actual help.

  For one crazy moment I wondered if this mess could help the Native cause in America. If it would provide a rallying point that would bring all the tribes together to make a stand that would give them the autonomy that had been stripped away centuries ago. Then reality kicked in. With the bleak magic Aidan was wielding, if they made a stand it would turn into a slaughter. Political protest would be swept aside in the bloodshed, and when it ended, there would be no more pesky Native population on thousands of acres of American soil. We weren’t going to let that happen.

  Danny Little Turtle stepped out of the forest with a silence and expression so like the Cherokee warriors Morrison and I had encountered that if it weren’t for his trappings—a riflpinittle Ture, jeans and a T-shirt instead of leathers and spears—I would have thought we’d fallen through time again. Moreover, those warriors had intended to capture us. Danny looked like he’d be happy to put a bullet in each of us, and a butterfly-fluttering sense of alarm awakened in my stomach. Back then I’d been confident of stopping their arrows and spears. Right now I wasn’t at all sure I could stop flying bullets.

  “Give me an excuse,” he said, and a goddamned military chopper buzzed us.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I think the only thing that kept Danny from shooting us right then was the probably unbased fear the rifle’s report would be heard above the chopper’s blades. We all hit the ground, dampening our heat signals with leaves and mud. I folded my white coat under myself, cringing at the exhaustion that left me unable to protect it with the thin magic sheen I’d used before. The chopper skimmed past us, treetops whipping and snapping with its passage. Danny snarled, “That’s an excuse,” but my father snaked a hand out and wrapped it around the rifle’s muzzle.

  “We’re not your enemies, Dan. You know that.”

  “Maybe you’re not, but all this trouble started when Joanne came back to town.”

  That was entirely untrue. It had started several days before I’d come back, but I didn’t think Danny would appreciate the distinction. “Is Aidan with you?”

  “Of course Aidan is with us,” he snapped. “Who do you think is keeping the military off our backs?”

  We hadn’t been being loud to begin with, but all three of us got really quiet. That was not an angle I’d expected, and it shot a spark of hope through me. Maybe Aidan had thrown off the wights’ influence. Maybe he was the hero of the hour, and we were just coming late to the party to offer our congratulations. My head throbbed with relief at the idea, even if I didn’t so much as half believe it. I was happy to hunt wights and fight the Executioner if Aidan was already safe. I’d happily fight them every day for the rest of my life, if he was safe.

  Morrison broke our silence. “When did he join you?”

  “He came and got us,” Danny spat. “Sunday evening, right before the CDC showed up. He came down to the school and said they were coming and that we’d all be quarantined if we didn’t get into the hills.”

  Sunday evening. If Aidan had been here Sunday evening, then he hadn’t lost days and days to his time travel stunt. He’d been able to land back where he came from, which just wasn’t fair. I wanted to rail at Renee for that, but at this juncture, it seemed useless. Instead I took a deep breath and tried to focus on something far more important: “Danny, did you burn the bodies? The ones who’d been keeping vigil, did you burn them?”

  I felt his blistering glare through the darkness. “Sara said we should. She got outvoted.”

  “Jesus. How many more people died when they rose?”

  “How do you know what happened!”

  “I think,” Morrison said under our increasing volume, “that we should take this discussion elsewhere. The helicopter is gone. This is probably our best chance to move.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “My name is Michael Morrison, and I’m with Joanne. If you don’t liwid nth=“1ke that, fine. But the longer we stay here, the better our chances of being discovered are. If I were searching these woods I’d be doing more than one pass, but they’ve got a lot of territory to cover and we may be able to get out of their sweep range if we move now.”

  “What are you, military?”

  “Police.”

  Dan said a word his grandmother wouldn’t have approved of and rolled to his feet. The rest of us followed, mouths shut and ears sharp to listen for the chopper coming back. Dan led us into an old mine shaft when we heard it, taking us deep enough that there wasn’t a hint of moonlight to illuminate the way. He stepped up beside me and breathed, “I could drop you in here and nobody would ever know,” in my ear.

  I said, “Don’t be absurd,” out loud, because if nothing else, drawing attention to a threat frequently removed it. Women weren’t good at that, as a rule. Societal convention told us to not raise our voices, even when we felt threatened. Police academy had done a good job of breaking that training, and I wasn’t about to lend credence to Dan’s theatrics by whispering back. “First off, Dad and Morrison are here, and they know you don’t like me, so if I fell in the shaft they might be suspicious. Second, I’m the shaman here, Dan. I can See perfectly clearly in the pitch dark. If you try throwing me down a pit, you’re probably a lot more likely than I am to end up in it.”

  That was obviously not how Danny had planned for the conversation to go. He made a sound of impotent rage and stomped a few feet away. Only a few feet—I bet he wasn’t kidding about the dangers of the mine, and that there was indeed a shaft close enough to get thrown down.

  My father said, “Dan?” incredulously, but Morrison only chuckled. Apparently he wasn’t too worried about me being pitched into pits, which was heartening.

  After a few minutes we ventured out again, this time avoiding any further chopper passes. Within half an hour we were in a moonlit vale that, from ground level, had the faintest signs of human habitation. I thought they must be less visible from above, and wondered how far from modern civilization we were.

  The cave system Dan led us into was natural and deep. I was astonished it hadn’t been exploited for minerals, but even the most assiduous explorers sometimes missed things. There could’ve been a rainstorm the day they went through this valley, who knew, or maybe somehow they’d just never come this way. Whatever the reason, he led us a fair distance down, stopping to turn a flashlight on once we were well past the cave’s mouth.

  The light caught attention down below. A number of people came to greet us, most of them expecting Dan and wary when they caught sight of the rest of us. Some relaxed at Dad’s presence, but more of them tensed up at mine. I was not exactly endearing myself to my former townspeople.

  Les’s grandfather pushed through to t
he front, shaking Dad’s hand, patting Danny on the shoulder and subtly ushering them both into the crowd behind him, which necessarily left Morrison and me on our own. Dad realized what had happened about half a step too late. I splayed my fingers when he made to come back, trying to stop him. If they threw us out, we, and probably they, would be better off with Dad in there. At least he had some idea of what was going on, and they might listen to him if we were ejected.

  “There’s a problem, Joanne.” Les Senior looked pained but determined. Me, I only nodded. I was sure there was a problem. It was just a question of whether his interpretation of the problem lined up with mineanne.ine. “We’ve been warned, you see,” Grandpa Les went on. “Wasn’t much of a surprise, what with all this trouble starting just before you came back, but it’s coming from a source I trust, you see?”

  I waited. He would nerve himself up to the confession soon enough, but I wasn’t going to make it any easier for him.

  “It’s Aidan, you see,” Grandpa Les said after a moment, and my heart dropped. Aidan hadn’t thrown off the infection after all. He was still the source of the CDC’s hunt, maybe imprisoned by, or worse, damaging the Cherokee who had retreated into the woods. I was about to ask to see him when Grandpa Les finished, “He says it’s you who’s been taken by Kolona Ayeliski.”

  *

  Of course he does. I didn’t think I said it out loud, but the thought rocked me back on my heels and shuttered my eyes for a moment. Of course he did. I should have seen that coming. I really should have, and I really hadn’t. Clever damned child. Clever Master, manipulating him. I heard Dan bark a triumphant sound, and my father and Morrison start to protest.

  I raised a hand, trying to silence them, and met Les Senior’s eyes. “It’s not true, but obviously that’s what I would say. I’m afraid that Aidan’s been taken by Raven Mocker, but obviously I would say that, too. And I’m completely flat, totally out of power right now, so I don’t even think there’s any way I could use magic to prove myself to you. I was going to ask for a drum circle,” I said wearily. “I was going to ask for your help, so I could try to protect you and this valley from an evil that’s coming.”

  “We know about that evil,” somebody growled. “We hear their helicopters and know they hunt the hills for us.”

  “The military is not the problem.” That was grossly untrue. The military was potentially a huge problem. But there were other problems on the plate first, like “The wights are part of the problem. Will someone tell me how many there are now?”

  Somebody else muttered, “She oughta know, if she’s Kolona Ayeliski,” but another person hawked in disbelief. “She wouldn’t let on if she knew, would she.”

  “We burned them.” Sara pushed her way to the front, red spots high on her cheekbones. Her gaze darted from me to my father and back again, but she focused on answering the question. “After the first ones rose, we burned the ones they killed, but the seven got away. They spread out and we don’t know how far they got. When we found bodies, we burned them, too, but we only found a few.” She looked between me and Dad again, then focused on me with cold fear in her eyes. “Where’s Lucas, Joanne? You found your dad. Where’s Lucas? Where’s my husband?”

  “I’m sorry, Sara.”

  She went white, making the hot spots on her cheeks stand out all the more. She wasn’t surprised: she’d known, really, from the moment Dad and I showed up without him. “What happened? Where is he? What happened, Joanne?”

  “The Nothing pulled him into another time, onto a battlefield. Dad followed, but it was too late. I’m so sorry, Sara. I’m so sorry.”

  Even the red faded, now, though she kept herself bolt upright. “Another time? There’s not even a body?”

  “I’m sorry.” Dad spoke this time. “I did the rites. I bathed him and I buried him so no sorcerer could steal his soul. I don’t know if it’s what histnow, thoug people would have done, but it was all I could do.”

  Sara’s attention snapped to him, but she was so rigid that the motion unbalanced her. I reached to support her and she slapped my hand away, swaying. “You’re sure it was him? It could have been anyone—”

  “He was wearing jeans and a Lakers T-shirt, Sara. We were out of time. No one else was dressed that way. It was Lucas. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

  Sara made fists, shoulders high as she stared at the ground. “Would it have helped if I’d called Joanne sooner? Would it have made a difference?”

  Dad shook his head. “I don’t think so. We’d have had to have gone through the Nothing together for him to have a chance. I just wasn’t soon enough. Joanne couldn’t have made a difference.”

  “You said through time.” Her voice was turning harsh with swallowed sobs now. “Can you…can you go back? Can you rescue him?”

  “I can’t.” Dad looked at me this time, and Sara’s entire body filled with tension.

  There was really only one thing I could say. “I’ll try. I can’t right now, Sara, I really am wiped out, but I’ll try as soon as I’m powered up.”

  To my utter surprise, she stepped past Les Senior and took up a place by my side. “Then I’ll drum for you.”

  “Sara…” Grandpa Lester’s voice carried a warning note.

  Sara’s head came up, color high again as her eyes flashed a warning of their own. “What, maybe I’m siding with the enemy? I don’t care, Grandpa Les. If it gets me my husband back, I don’t care. Besides, Joanne’s a lot of things, including dumb, but she’s not evil. I’ve seen her at work. She’s the thing evil runs from. If she thinks Aidan’s the problem here, then he probably is. Don’t say she didn’t warn you, when it’s all over.”

  She was the last person on earth I expected to defend me. A hundred times over the past year I’d thought I didn’t deserve the quality of friends I had. Right now I didn’t even deserve the quality of nemeses I had. Sara outshone me on every level, and I swore to God I would do everything I could to get Lucas back for her.

  One more person pushed through the crowd, her dark eyes haggard. “How sure are you? About Aidan. How sure are you?”

  “Pretty sure. We saw him caught up in some bad magic. He’s got it in him to fight it, but it’s going to be bad. I’ve got to help him. Dad, me, anybody who’s willing.”

  Ada Monroe nodded once, and stepped to my side of the line.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  That was it. Five of us: two shamans, one grieving widow, a desperate mother and a police captain with the magical aptitude of a horseradish. Sheriff Les watched us go, his gaze uncertain, but he didn’t join us, and the others were more strongly swayed by Grandpa Les and Danny Little Turtle. And by Aidan, for that matter, and the bitter thing was I couldn’t really blame them for trusting him more than they trusted me.

  “He leaves every night at sundown,” Ada reported in a low, tense voice as we abandoned the caves to look for a sanctuary of our own. “He says he’s going out to make sure the valley is shielded from the searchers, but I don’t like him being alone in the dark. And how did the CDC know to come to Cherokee atnown. nyway? How did he know to warn us about them? It doesn’t add up, Joanne. It doesn’t add up.”

  Worse, it did add up, but she didn’t like the sum it came to. Neither did I. “He always used to tell me everything,” Ada went on. “Now he won’t talk to me at all.”

  That sounded a lot like a typical preteen, but the timing was too convenient for me to say so. Aidan would almost certainly clam up and stop telling his mother everything, but chances of it happening naturally on the same day he’d gotten pumped full of death magic was an unlikely coincidence. “We’ll get him back, Ada. He’s a tough kid, with a lot of power. He’s going to be fine.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  I stopped in the middle of the forest and turned to her, a finger of fire awakening in me. “Yes, I can. I know it because I’ll die trying to make this right, if I have to, and no way am I going to the extreme of dying and then failing
to make it right.” It wasn’t very sound logic, but it was heartfelt.

  Ada gave me a peculiar look. “You were always a strange girl, Joanne.” She passed by, following my father and Sara.

  Morrison stayed at my side, both of us looking after Ada. “She’s right, you know. I don’t know about always, but you do say strange things.”

  “Like I’m not going to die trying and fail? I don’t know, I think it makes sense. It would be embarrassing to fail if you died trying.”

  “You didn’t say that to Sara.”

  “Sara wouldn’t appreciate the hyperbole. Not that I’m being hyperbolic. But you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do, but I’m not sure it matters, either. Joanne, how are you going to manage this? Even I can tell your energy is low, and you still haven’t eaten anything but some apples.”

  “I should’ve asked them for some food.” I glanced back, then started walking again. “Oh well. Too late now. They probably wouldn’t have shared anyway, if they think I’m Raven Mocker. You don’t even know what that means, do you. Argh.”

  “Your dad told me.”

  “When? Oh.” When I’d been in Petite, trying to pull myself together, no doubt. Dad had explained everything about the scene at the hospital, and probably about Raven Mocker chasing Grandmother off the road. Neither of those topics accounted for their sudden silence when I got out of the car, but now, as then, I wasn’t absolutely sure I wanted to know what they’d moved on to saying about me. “Good. Raven Mocker isn’t something you defeat, Morrison. He’s an archetype, a demon archetype, like a trickster only malevolent instead of…flaky.”

  “Like the Master.” It was guarded, almost a question.

  I exhaled. “Yeah. I’m sure Raven Mocker is an aspect of the Master. I’m not sure if he is the Master. If he is I don’t know…you remember the banshee, right?”