Thunderbird Falls twp-2

by C. E. Murphy

  “Our power’s different,” the Elder said. “You women have the power of creation.”

  “Lemme guess. You guys have the power of destruction and your light is black and what we really want to do is blend it so it’s all gray.”

  “More like a yin-yang,” Garth corrected. “In balance, black and white, instead of losing them both to grayness.”

  “But it’s nothing like the kind of power displayed here tonight,” the Elder went on.

  “So I what, kicked it up a notch?” I asked, then compulsively added, “Bam!” Garth laughed out loud. Everybody else stared at me. “Never mind,” I said, grinning at Garth.

  “I’d like to try again,” Marcia said, and I said, “Like hell but hell no,” which got the stares again. “A single huge burst of unexplained flashy power is all the fun I can handle in one evening.”

  “Oh.” Marcia looked like I’d taken her favorite toy away. “All right. Perhaps tomorrow night.”

  “Do you meet every single night?”

  A chorus of nos met me. “But the solstice is coming,” Faye concluded, as if it explained everything. I gave her my best look of incomprehension, and she patted my shoulder. I felt like barking. “Virissong believes he can break through to this world on the solstice. Every day until then we’ll meet to guide him with our power. It’s a beacon of light,” she said without the slightest hint of irony. “It shows him his path.”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Break through to this world? You didn’t say anything about people coming through from other worlds. You said you wanted to stop the heat wave.” I stared at Marcia, full of accusation.

  “We aren’t strong enough by ourselves. We need Virissong’s strength to do it,” she said patiently.

  “I don’t like things breaking through to this world.” I had a small amount of familiarity with this kind of thing. In my experience, it meant I wanted to be armed with a sharp pointy object. I blessed the impulse that led me to taking classes from Phoebe, and leaned toward Marcia. “Are we talking about a god here, Marcia?”

  “Oh, no. Virissong is powerful, but not a god.”

  “Mythologically important? Like a Coyote or Grandfather Sky figure?” I asked. I did not want to be messing with power on that magnitude if I could avoid it.

  “No, no. They’re archetypes, like Gaia herself. Virissong was human once, a hero among his people, but he lost an epic battle and was banished to the Shadowlands.”

  I let out a slow breath. “And he’s your leader.”

  Everyone beamed at me. I felt like a kid who’d been successfully potty-trained under the watchful gaze of an entire community. “Exactly,” the Elder said.

  “So he’s a witch,” I said. Silence met my statement, but I didn’t mark it. I was busy thinking. I didn’t know beans about witches in Native American culture, but I did know one thing: if Virissong was in Marcia’s “Shadowlands,” I could probably reach him. Maybe he could lead me toward some kind of information about Cassie’s death. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to bring back to Morrison, but it might do. I puffed out my cheeks and glanced around. “Can I suggest something?”

  They all looked at me expectantly. I was beginning to feel like I was inside a goldfish bowl. “Go gently. We called up an awful lot of power there. I’m not really sure I understand what’s going on.” I knew perfectly well I didn’t know what was going on. I just hoped putting it on myself might make them more open to the idea thatthey didn’t know what was going on.

  “You’ll learn,” Faye promised. “You’ll come to understand. We all have.”

  Guess that approach wasn’t going to work. “Be careful anyway,” I muttered, climbing to my feet. “Look, you’ve told me an awful lot and I need to take some time to absorb it, okay?” I also needed to talk to Judy, to see if she could tell me anything about Virissong. I had a teacher now, and I was by God going to take advantage of that. I’d had enough of fumbling in the dark.

  “You’ll come back, won’t you?” Faye asked. “We need you. Virissong guided me to you with my dream. I know you’re the one we need to complete the coven.”

  My nostrils flared. “I’ll think about it,” I said. “That’s all I can promise right now.”

  The coven parted, reluctant as Romeo and Juliet, and let me go.

  Wisdom dictated that I go home and go to bed, since I had to be up at what I considered an obscenely early hour. Instead, Petite drove herself over to Gary’s house without bothering to notify me about the change of plans. I sat there in his driveway, trying to explain to my car that it was eleven at night and Gary’s job as a cabbie got him up at four in the morning. There was no way he’d be awake. Then the living room light flipped on and he peered at me through the picture windows before coming out to the porch to stand there in shorts and a T-shirt, arms akimbo.

  I’d always been a leg girl. When the Olympics were on TV, I’d be the one watching the speed skaters and saying, lustfully, “Look at thosethighs.”Gary, standing there in boxers, could’ve given those skaters a run for their money, even if he was seventy-three years old. Him standing up there was like having Paul Bunyan waiting on me expectantly.

  I didn’t realize I was leaning on the steering wheel, gazing dreamily at his thighs, until he stomped down off the porch and came to lift his bushy eyebrows at me through the driver side window. “Jo? You arright?”

  I said, “You have great legs,” which in no way answered the question, but made him chortle with delight and open Petite’s door for me.

  “You come by in the middle of the night to tell me that?”

  I laughed as I climbed out of the car. “Not really. I didn’t mean to come over at all. Petite wanted to visit.”

  Gary gave the car a sly smile and a pat on the roof. “I’m flattered, darlin’. It ain’t every day a pretty girl half my age wants to drop by late at night to see me.”

  Now there was a man who knew how to treat a girl. I beamed at Gary. “Love me, love my car.” Or maybe it was the other way around, but he treated her like a lady, and that was what mattered. “She is half your age, too, isn’t she?”

  “Yep.” Gary ushered me toward the house. “Guess this old dog hasn’t quite lost it yet.”

  “Gary, you’re still going to have it when I’m a withered old wisp.”

  “Flattery,” he pronounced, “will get you everywhere. What’s goin’ on, Jo? These ain’t your usual visiting hours.”

  I screwed up my face and kicked my shoes off as I went into the living room. “I know. Sorry if I woke you. It’s just that I just got back from a—” My throat seized up. There were things I just hated to say, and it disconcerted me when they started pouring out from my mouth like it was natural. I sighed, took a deep breath, and tried again: “A coven meeting.”

  Gary’s eyebrows shot up with surprise, moving his white hairline back half an inch. I didn’t think he looked anything like Sean Connery, but for a moment he reminded me of the sexy old Scotsman. “‘Scuze me? Coven? With witches?”

  “With witches.” I dropped into the couch and pulled a quilt over myself.

  “What’d they want? How come you didn’t invite me?”

  “They wanted to open up a passage between worlds and invite an ancient American Indian spirit into this one to help end the heat wave as a precursor to saving the world.” I thought that summed it up pretty nicely. “Oh, and I didn’t invite you because I’m an ingrate.”

  “I love ya anyway.” Gary leaned forward, sitting on the front edge of his comfy chair, big hands laced together. He wasn’t exactly Rodin’sThe Thinker, but he looked solid and practical and made me feel better. “What’s the catch?”

  I dragged the quilt over my head. “They need my help.”

  Gary chuckled. “Hiding ain’t gonna make it go away, doll. Wasn’t it just yesterday you were say in’ this heat wave might be your fault? Sounds like you got your work cut out for you.”

  I pulled the quilt down again and looked at him unhappily. “I don’t like
this, Gary.”

  “C’mere, darlin’.”

  I got up, trailing the quilt after me like Linus, and sat down on the arm of his chair. Gary put an arm around my hips and gave them a hard hug. “Someday all them walls you got built up are gonna have to come tumblin’ down, Jo, and when they’re ready there’s gonna be nothing you can do about it. Might be easier on you if you start pryin’ some of the bricks out now.”

  “Might be,” I said very cautiously. This was bordering on the territory of Things Joanne Didn’t Talk About. “But I wouldn’t count on it.” I didn’t want to be nasty. I just didn’t want to open up that conversational path right now. Gary gave my hips another hug.

  “I reckon you’re gonna do what you have to do, sweetheart. In the meantime, whaddaya think you’re doin’, showin’ up at this hour and interruptin’ an old man’s beauty sleep? Get goin’. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I didn’t point out he’d been awake when I arrived, and got going, feeling like I’d dodged a bullet. Gary’d never made mention of being actively aware there were things I didn’t want to talk about, and I didn’t know what I would’ve done if he’d pressed it. Everyone else who’d pushed me about them had been on a psychic plane, and I couldn’t just disappear from Gary’s living room the way I could from my garden or the Dead Zone. I wasn’t ready to deal with my personal demons yet. It was kind of nice to know, though, that Gary would be there when I was.

  Petite deigned to drive me home, and I went to bed trying hard not to think about the things I didn’t want to think about.

  Saturday, June 18, 5:50 a.m.

  For the second morning in a row, I was early. I was very impressed with myself, especially since this made three whole days I’d been up early, and I didn’t yet seem to be suffering from the mind-numbing tiredness that had accompanied my previous shamanic experiences. Maybe I was getting better at this.

  “I think that’s the idea,” Judy said good-naturedly. I nearly flinched out of my skin, which was an unfortunately realistic possibility on this level of existence. I got my psyche under control and settled back into my skin before getting to my feet.

  “Judy. I’m glad you’re here. I need some answers.”

  “Again,” she said, “I think that’s the idea.” Her eyes were bright with amusement, despite their blackness.

  “Yeah, but don’t be difficult, okay? I’m good with all of the openness and the accepting and the learning.” Okay, I wasn’t really, but that wasn’t the point. The skies over my garden darkened perceptibly and I scowled at them. “I’m trying to be, okay? Look.” That was back to Judy, who sat down on a bench and folded her feet up under herself cozily. She looked more at peace in my garden than I did. It was annoying. Thunder rumbled, and I set my teeth together, trying to find the reasonable voice that I knew had to be buried somewhere inside me. “I need to know about someone named Virissong.”

  Judy’s entire body language changed, her head tipping to the side, birdlike, anticipation and curiosity in the set of her shoulders and the way she leaned forward. “Where did you come acrosshis name?”

  I let out an explosive breath. “So you’ve heard of him?”

  “Certainly. Anyone who travels the astral realms enough eventually meets or hears of him. I didn’t think you had the experience, though.”

  “I’m full of surprises. What can you tell me about him?”

  Judy smiled. “I think I can introduce you to him. It’ll mean another journey to the Lower World. Are you ready?”

  I glanced skyward inadvertently, wondering if I’d get another glance of the thunderbird if I tried another Lower World journey. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “He isn’t always easy to contact,” Judy warned. “This may take all of your lesson time today, and it’s not really what you need to be learning right now.”

  “Tomorrow,” I promised. “Tomorrow we can do whatever comes after power animals.”

  “More power animals,” she said with another smile. “But this time we’ll do it as a healing journey. You’ll be searching for an animal to help someone else.”

  “Who?”

  Judy shook her head. “That remains to be seen. Are you ready to begin this journey?”

  I straightened my shoulders and nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  There was no side trip to the Upper World, no thunderbird visitation. The drumbeat caught me, and I fell, chasing after Judy, into the Lower World. When I hit the earth—rich and loamy, full of nightcrawlers and clicking bugs—a jolt went through me, one part connection to the Lower World and one part disappointment that I hadn’t been moved to sneak away again.

  “There’s more ritual,” Judy was telling me, “to asking someone like Virissong to come to you than there is in calling power animals. Begin with a power circle. Start in the north.”

  I bit my tongue on asking which way was north, and tried to figure it out on my own. The Lower World felt flatter than the real world, as if I might be standing on the face of a compass. I closed my eyes, trying to feel the world around me through the darkness. After a moment I felt light and heat to my right, and turned that way.

  The sun broke over the horizon, very fast and very large, coloring the sky in a flare of white that faded to red. I bowed toward it, like it had risen just to help me find my directions.

  I’d never drawn a power circle before, and had no idea what was involved. No, not no idea. I had enough sense to thank the spirits of the north and invoke their protection. I did it again for the other three directions, making a circle around Judy, who looked pleased, and myself, who felt absurd.

  There was a little burst of power as I thanked the last spirits, to the west, like a force field coming online around me. I pressed my palm against the air, then yanked it away again as I encountered resistance. Behind me, Judy laughed. “You have so little faith.” She sounded impressed. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you come to believe.”

  Just what I always wanted. My own personal savior. “Now what?”

  “Now the offering.” Judy looked expectant. I looked around.

  “Of what?” I asked after a while, when nothing seemed to be happening.

  “Didn’t you bring a gift?”

  “Gosh, no. Fresh out of gifts. Nobody left me a memo.”

  “No cornmeal? No water or tobacco?”

  I shifted uncomfortably. Judy twisted her mouth in disapproval. “I thought you wanted to meet Virissong.”

  “I do,” I protested.

  “But you came without gifts?”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to bring any!”

  Judy sighed. “I’m surprised you’ve lived this long. All right. We’ll have to make do. Give me your hand.”

  Chagrined, I gave her my hand. “The point of the gift is to make an offering connected with the earth, so Virissong knows we respect him and will listen to our call,” she said. “Do you understand that?”

  “Yeah.” Grumpy Jo. I sounded like a sullen teenager. “Yes, I do,” I said more politely.

  “There’s one thing you carry within you at all times that’s connected to the earth and holds great power.”

  “There is?” I asked, but instead of answering, Judy took a knife from the small of her back and laid my palm open to the bone.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Jesus motherfucking Christ!” I yanked my hand back, but Judy held it with a painfully solid grip, twisting my wrist so the blood pooling between my fingers dripped to the earth.

  “Careful!” she snapped. “If it splashes onto the power circle, the shields will come down. Blood is power, Joanne Walker. Blood is the most precious gift that can be given. Now think of Virissong, and ask for him to visit us!”

  “JesusChrist,” I said again. Judy let my hand go and I turned it up, curling my fingers around the wound. It hurt, but not as badly as I thought it should. It was a dull, thick pain, like my joints were tired instead of the clear sharpness I associated with a blade cut. I wrapped my other hand around it, trying to cut off
the blood flow, but even as I watched, it began to heal, the blood congealing between my fingers. “Jesus Christ.” I thrust my jaw out and turned away from Judy, anger hunching my shoulders as I tried to clear my mind and think of England. Or Virissong.

  An unexpected feeling of well-being swept over me. The ache faded from my hand and the air around me cleared, brightening in a way that had nothing to do with the rising sun. “Virissong,” Judy said in a warm voice. “We welcome and greet you.”

  My anger couldn’t stand up under the onslaught of warm fuzzies. I turned, still clutching my injured hand, to face—

  Well, it wasn’t a god. That much I knew. It was powerful, much more powerful than any person I’d met, but it didn’t carry with it the raw, primal forces of chaos that Cernunnos had.

  Had I not met Cernunnos, though, I’d think I was facing a god. He was small and slender and the very air he exhaled was charged with energy. Power crawled over his skin, glittering white in the close morning sunlight. He was human, but only just. The hairs on my arms stood up, and I held my ground through conscious effort. “Thank you for answering our call,” I said. He turned to smile at me.

  Was there a rule that otherworldly beings had to be gorgeous? He was dark-skinned and black-eyed, his broad features full of passion. “Joanne Walker.” His voice washed over me, a warm tenor that ought to have been filling concert halls. It raised the hairs on my arms just like Caruso’s voice might’ve, making me feel as if I might take wing and be transported somewhere else entirely by their lift.

  “It is a very great pleasure to know you.” His voice dropped on the “know,” and I felt myself blush as I got all Biblical about it. I clearly needed a real-world relationship.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. I, um…”

  “Had questions for me,” Virissong put in. I smiled crookedly, relieved I didn’t actually have to say that myself. It seemed presumptuous. “Will you walk with me?” he asked. I glanced at Judy, who spread her hands slightly.