by Jenna Kernan
“We’ll follow. But don’t lose us.”
Cesar sat in the car, holding the child of Nagi. After a few minutes of murmured conversation he managed to get the infant to release him, but the newborn then sank into the space between the passenger seat and the glove box, huddling and shivering as if he were freezing to death. Bess peered in.
“He’s afraid,” said Cesar.
“Can he understand your thoughts?” she asked.
“Not sure.”
Bess straightened. “We’ll follow you. Maybe you should cover him up until you get on the road.”
“Yeah, good idea.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out his trench coat, then draped it over the boy.
One little hand reached from beneath the shroud, his wicked claws puncturing the upholstery.
Cesar patted the tiny gray hand and then put the car into Reverse.
“I’m not sure about this,” said Bess.
Tuff motioned at Cesar. “He is.”
She and Tuff hurried back to his battered pickup and climbed in. Cesar passed them. Tuff followed.
“Are you getting any kind of a warning sign?” Bess asked.
“Besides yours?” He glanced at her then returned his attention to the street. “Nope.”
The early-morning traffic was largely moving into the city so their ride from downtown to the bridge was relatively painless. Bess kept her attention on the empty space beside Cesar, half expecting his passenger to emerge.
He didn’t. But Cesar did throw his coat over the seat when they had cleared the Golden Gate.
Bess stared at the rear end of Cesar’s car.
“Wait a minute. That’s not his car, is it?” She squinted. “I never noticed his plates, but the color is different. Isn’t it?”
“I never saw his car before.”
“I think it was navy. But that one is gray. Where’s his car?”
“Maybe that’s a cop car?” offered Tuff.
It was a long forty minutes to the state park and not the first time she wished she could carry a cell phone with her.
“You have a phone?” she asked.
Tuff shook his head.
They continued down the hill into the coastal valley where the giant redwoods grew amid the warm Pacific mist. Cesar returned to the same parking area where they had met, the trailhead for several nice hikes and one dead body.
Bess just wanted Cesar’s passenger out of his car.
Cesar’s brake lights had barely flicked off before Bess was out flinging open the rusty door and hopping from the truck.
Cesar stepped out of the car and held open his passenger-side door.
“Any trouble?” she asked.
“None.”
“Why here?” she asked.
“He chose it.” Cesar looked around.
She knew as well as he did that it was their responsibility to see that no humans discovered the existence of the Halfling races. But who was responsible for telling the little creature now huddled on the floor mat?
The tension in Cesar’s jaw and the way his eyes darted from one spot to the next definitely put Bess on edge. “What’s wrong?”
“I had some trouble here yesterday.”
Bess moved closer. “What kind of trouble?”
“I saw Nagi and two more Halflings.”
“Nagi!” Bess now searched the shadows for anything that moved. “He knows that I know the Seer. This may be a trap to flush her out.”
“It may be. So let’s get him out of the car so we can go, before those ghosts come after me again.”
Bess sucked in a breath. “What ghosts?”
Chapter 19
Something swooped in from the edge of Bess’s peripheral vision and she ducked, thinking it was a ghost. She was already straightening when she remembered that ghosts could not be seen except by the Seer of Souls and the owl Skinwalkers.
The black billowing cloud landed on the roof of Cesar’s new sedan, transforming into the female twin. She began to howl like a coyote and stamp her feet on the metal roof, her sharp claws causing such a racket that Bess clamped her hands over her ears.
Cesar still held open the passenger door, but now motioned them all to step back. After several minutes of howling and scratching the female dropped to the ground, placing the car between herself and them. She spotted her twin and began the yipping call they had used back in the city. The male at last crept from his hiding place beneath the dashboard.
The infants darted like deer beneath the guardrail and then stopped to stare at the three of them.
“What do you think they make of us?” asked Tuff.
“The female looks hungry,” whispered Bess.
“And the male still seems frightened,” added Cesar.
Bess shifted nervously. “I wish they’d go.”
“Do you think they’ll be all right?” Cesar asked.
She didn’t know and she worried for them, but also worried that Nagi might appear. It seemed clear he was gathering his children.
Tuff opened the dented door of his pickup. “Want me to follow you or take off?”
“Take off,” said Cesar at the same time Bess said, “Follow.”
Tuff grinned until Bess said, “I still have that bad feeling.”
The female was now tugging her twin by the arm, trying to get him to come with her, but he held on to the crossbeam of the wooden guardrail, whimpering. His eyes were on Cesar.
“What does he want?” asked Bess.
“Not sure. Help maybe.”
“Or a parent,” said Tuff.
Bess’s jaw dropped as she stared from Tuff to Cesar. Was he right?
“They can hunt. They’ll be fine,” she said, more to herself than to the men.
“Babies need more than food,” said Tuff.
“But unfortunately, we’re the food,” said Bess.
Tuff gave her a grim look, but didn’t contradict her, which made her more worried.
Bess had no idea how to gather the little Halflings or communicate with them even if she wanted to.
Cesar gave a sigh and then rubbed his hand over his mouth. “We better go, I guess. We’re scaring the female.”
That was obvious by the way she clacked her jaw, making her teeth gnash together as she gave a warning growl that would have made a German shepherd turn tail and run.
Help. Help. Danger now.
Bess heard the words as if they were spoken in her ear.
“What was that?” asked Bess.
The female had the male around the waist now and tugged as he clung to the rail with both hands.
“What was what?” asked Tuff.
Bess’s neck prickled and she glanced around, searching for the source of the voice, still trying to decide if it came from outside or inside her head. She spotted three hikers hurrying from the trailhead. “Great. Humans,” she said.
She turned toward the three approaching men, noticing at first glance that something was not right with them. Their clothing was rumpled and bits of grass and moss clung to their disheveled hair. They looked as if they had spent the night sleeping in the woods without benefit of a tent or bedroll. They carried no gear except long walking sticks that appeared to be only redwood branches. They did not hold them as one would for walking but up before their chests as if they were clubs. They approached at a loping trot that was just short of a run.
Cesar stepped before her. “Get in the car.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” But even as she said the words she knew, because they were close enough for her to see their faces now. Their eyes were a ghostly yellow and their blank expressions looked as if they had been carved from wax. She had seen such men before, in Montana, at the fight between her friends and Nagi’s ghosts.
Tuff must have noticed as well for he spoke under his breath. “Ghosts.”
The twins now both began a chortling, crackling sound that acted on Bess’s ears like the collapse of sheet metal in a car wreck.
“Get to t
he car,” Cesar ordered.
But none of them did. If it was to be a fight, Bess would stand beside Cesar and Tuff would stand with her.
The ghosts rushed at them with raised sticks. Bess dodged a blow that would surely have split her head open.
Cesar drew his service pistol and then sheathed it again. Of course he did not want to kill humans when it was his mission to protect them, even if they were trying to kill him.
When Bess had faced a similar fight the ghosts had been stopped only by the Seer of Souls.
This time they were on their own. So should they kill the humans or only disable them? It was certain by the swinging clubs that the ghosts did not face any such moral quandary.
Tuff nimbly dropped to the ground and used one foot to sweep the legs out from beneath his attacker.
“Try not to kill them,” said Cesar.
The humans had done nothing to deserve death. They were merely the vessels the ghosts had taken.
Her attacker swung again and again she dodged, this time stepping behind him and kicking him in the ass with all she was worth. The blow sent him sprawling. Tuff sat on his attacker, who flailed uselessly beneath him. Bess knew the guy would never be able to dislodge a buffalo. Cesar had cuffed his attacker’s hands behind the man’s back and the possessed man writhed uselessly on the ground. Cesar grasped the ankle of the human who swung his club at Bess, holding him as Bess relieved him of his weapon.
“Now what?” asked Tuff.
The man beneath Tuff was trying to bite Tuff’s ankle, forcing him to lift one foot and then the next.
“Bess, could you get the rope from my trunk?” Cesar spoke in a calm voice that seemed at odds with his position, for he now had her attacker in a headlock. The guy writhed and reached, trying unsuccessfully to get a hold of Cesar.
She went to retrieve the rope, stepping over the third man, who rolled about on the ground in a vain attempt to remove his handcuffs.
Bess reached in the open window on the driver’s side and popped the trunk and then headed around the back.
“We can’t let them go,” said Cesar. “Not like this anyway.”
Bess glanced toward the woods. The twins stood on their stubby legs, leaning into each other. They seemed so bereft it made her pause.
Alone, alone, alone. Afraid, afraid. Hungry.
Those were not her thoughts. Theirs? She cocked her head. Were they telepaths then, sending their thoughts to her or to everyone? It was the female. She knew it but did not know how she did.
“The Seer could send these ghosts to the Spirit Road. That would free the humans,” said Tuff.
Bess slammed the trunk. “No. There might be more, watching us right now. They could find her.”
“She can see them. She can send them for judgment just as she did the others at the ranch in Montana,” said Tuff.
He had been there, fought beside her with the others and witnessed the Seer’s powers.
“She has children to defend now. And Nagi is here,” said Bess. “He can follow me and he’ll kill her.”
She brought Cesar the rope and he quickly used it on the man he held.
“First, we get out of this forest,” said Cesar. “Then we’ll figure out what to do.”
“Ready?” asked Tuff, preparing to remove his weight from the final attacker.
Cesar tied the man’s legs and then nodded.
Tuff drew aside, keeping hold of the hiker’s right arm. His left was still pinned beneath him. Cesar trussed him like a captured boar.
Tuff dusted off the seat of his pants. “Why did they attack us?” asked Tuff.
Bess pointed toward the new Halflings. “Defending them.”
“How do you know?”
“I can hear them. Or I hear the female. She called for help.”
Both men stared at her.
“Didn’t you hear her?”
They shook their heads.
“But I can understand the male when he’s touching me,” said Cesar.
Bess felt the prickling anxiety grow stronger, but now began to question whether the feeling came from her warning system working or the panic of the newborns sending out telepathic messages.
“Gun!” yelled Cesar.
Bess turned to see a fourth man, a park officer, emerge from behind a huge redwood trunk at the same instant Cesar tackled her. As she sailed through the air she saw the raised revolver and heard the pop of a single gunshot.
They hit the ground so hard it rattled her vision. Cesar reached for his weapon, lifting off her to return fire. His pistol report made her ears ring.
Three more shots came in rapid succession and Cesar crumpled to the ground.
Bess screamed as she rose to her knees beside Cesar.
The shooter was down and Tuff ran to him, retrieved the weapon and threw it. It sailed through the air and landed in his truck bed.
“I never saw him,” said Tuff, stooping to check the ranger. “Dead.”
Bess had Cesar in her arms now. She held his slack body against hers. Blood soaked his shirt and his head lolled back in a way that filled Bess with terror.
“No, no, no,” she whispered as if it were a prayer. “He was trying to protect me.”
Tuff left the shooter and returned to Bess, dropping to his knees in the dirt beside her.
Bess lifted her gaze from Cesar’s unnaturally pale face to look into Tuff’s eyes and found no reassurance there.
“Do something. Tuff, you have to heal him.”
Tuff’s eyes reflected the horror she felt. Cesar was so still. Was he even breathing?
“Hurry! Why don’t you help him?”
Tuff sat fixed in stillness, his face a mask of dread.
She shifted Cesar, to lay him down before Tuff. He was a buffalo. He could survive these injuries and regenerate. It was his gift and his burden, the gift of sacrifice. She had never before seen Tuff withhold his powers to any living thing that needed him.
“Tuff!” she screamed at him. The terror burned her throat, making her voice shrill.
He reached out, not to Cesar, but to her, clasping her by the shoulders and turning her to face him.
“Bess, it’s too late. He’s already gone.”
Chapter 20
“It can’t be,” said Bess. If she could only convince Tuff to try. If he would only listen.
“Bess. Look at him.”
She did. Tuff flipped back the lapel of Cesar’s suit to show her the bullet holes, still oozing dark red blood—two piercing his heart and another tearing through his lung on the right side. All three bullets had hit Cesar in the torso. He wasn’t wearing a vest.
Bess pressed her hands over her face, trying to breathe past the weight of misery that suddenly fell down upon her. Her exhalation was ragged, choking. How could she still draw breath when he could not?
She shuddered and trembled as the world spun out of control. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be happening. She had only just found him and never even told him that she loved him.
“He can’t be gone.”
Her mother, father. Now Cesar. Stolen, taken, it was the same. This was why she had not told Cesar that she loved him. The fear had stopped her. The fear of exactly this. And now her worst fear had happened.
She scrubbed her hands across her dry face, yearning for the release of tears and looked Tuff in the eye.
“No. Not this time. I won’t let him go.”
“But he has gone.” Tuff’s voice was quiet and full of concern.
He didn’t understand.
“You can still heal his body.”
Tuff’s brows furrowed. “Why? I can’t bring him back.”
“I can. If I reach him before he crosses into the Spirit World.”
“But Bess, do you have the right to stop him?”
“I love him.”
She had not realized she had shouted until she saw the hurt and confusion on Tuff’s dear face.
Bess tried to rein in her terror with her tone of voi
ce. “I will not let another person I love leave me behind. This time I’ll fight. I’ll bring him back or I’ll follow him.”
“No!” Tuff reached for her, his eyes wide with what looked like terror and she realized she had never seen him afraid before. A moment later he dropped his hands to his knees and nodded his acceptance. “All right, Bess. Bring him back and I’ll see he is made whole.”
Cesar was flying, up through the treetops and into the blue sky. The clouds swallowed him up and next he saw the stars glittering about him, spilling across the heavens in a sparkling highway.
Recognition arrived a moment later. He knew what this was, knew it even without ever having seen it before.
This was the Way of Souls, the road that all mortals must one day pass after their earthly journey was finished. It summoned him, humming softly, with a beautiful music that touched his soul and carried him forward. How did anyone resist such a call? It was sweeter than a lark’s song, purer than water tumbling down a hillside. He wanted to bathe in the sound, roll in the carpet of stars and dance along the road that stretched out before him.
But wasn’t there something wrong? He looked back at the way he had come and could see nothing but more stars winking. Still he was unsettled by the feeling he had left something important behind. He paused, hovering, neither continuing forward nor retreating.
Why was he so torn? As if he were tied to two horses galloping in opposite directions.
He began again, sweeping forward. This was right, flying through the sky as easily as… He slowed his momentum, drifting in space. He was thinking that he flew as easily as Bess. His raven. His love.
Where was she now? More importantly where was he?
Cesar grew uneasy at the realization that he had no body. He seemed to be only a silver shimmering energy. How had he come here? He could not remember.
Something moved farther up the road of stars, something slow and ancient. He felt the age of this creature measured in eons instead of years, as if he stared at a cliff face instead of a living entity: a female, as old as the stars themselves and as much a part of this place as the sky.