by TM Simmons
"Do you get those often, too, in between the migraines?"
He shrugged. "I guess to be honest, I'd have to say I do. Maybe two of three of the minor ones before a full blown migraine hits." He glanced toward some activity at the front of the office. "But we'll have to get back to my medical needs later. Right now, we’re going to get moving. The clothing for you is in the bathroom over there. I think Daisy hung it on the shower rod."
Channing left her coffee on the table. In the bathroom, she found two sets of clothing more than suitable, she hoped, for riding on the back of a vehicle exposed to the deadly cold in this land. She hurried into one her size, in a way glad for the distraction of the conversation she had been having with Keoman. An idea glimmered, something she wanted to follow up on when she had time. She had already called Duluth and asked that his medical records be emailed to her.
~~~~
After a quick how-to lesson, Channing navigated a sleek Arctic Cat snowmobile among the last six machines in a line of over fifty. The men evidently forgot she was a newbie at handling this mode of transportation, but luckily, there were two other snow sleds behind her. When she lagged, one of the last men would lift his radio to his mouth. Soon, she would catch up to the group of five men who waited for her: Grant, Gagewin, Gabe, Radin and Keoman.
In her inexpert estimation, they rode nearly two miles from where they left their vehicles and trailers parked beside the road before they arrived beside a wide, treeless expanse. The lake, Phantom Lake, stretched endlessly on their left. The remainder of the searchers had already travelled on. For a moment, she heard the engine rumbles, but soon that faded and silence descended around where their six had halted.
The men gathered in a close group and one-by-one removed their protective face masks in order to talk.
Keoman appeared to be the leader, since he said, "This will be our area. I'm going to assign each of you a part to cover. Three of us have been involved in search and rescues before in this wilderness. Three of us have never been out here. I want us in pairs, and whatever you do, do not split up. We tested all the radios before we left, made sure they had new batteries. They're capable of communicating ten miles, so we should be able to stay in touch. There's six channels on each device, and we've been assigned channel six. We're leaving channel one open for emergency communications."
He stared at each person in turn. "If you see anything suspicious, stop. Don't go any further. Call the rest of us in and we'll all take a look. Remember, we're trying to find any sign that might indicate where this cabin was over four hundred years ago."
He studied Channing. "You might think that's impossible, but there are ways to know. Something planted in an area that's not native to this land. Maybe some of the trees are younger than those around it. That indicates new growth, and the earlier trees might have been harvested to build a cabin, or for wood to burn through the winter."
"Or summer," Gagewin put in. "We don't have a lot of warm days in any season up here."
"I understand," Channing responded. "I'll try to do my part."
"You're basically here to give us medical care, if needed," Gagewin told her. "And you need to be with us, rather than waiting back in the vehicles. But another set of eyes is always welcome in these matters."
Channing nodded, as Keoman went on, "Grant, you'll be with Gagewin. I'm taking Gabe with me. Radin, you'll be with Channing."
Channing glanced over her shoulder to see a handsome man in his early thirties nod back at Keoman. He glanced quickly at her, and said, "I'll take care of her."
"Before we go—" Keoman directed his gaze at Channing. "— we'll do a protection ceremony. All of us are already wearing our medicine bags, right?"
Channing laid a hand on her chest below her throat, where the thong held the doe-skin bag.
"Then Gagewin and I will do what we can to strengthen our fight against this entity that seeks to harm us and our children."
He and Gagewin stood quietly for several long moments. At last, they lifted their arms toward the blue, cloud-dotted sky and sang a song that echoed strongly upward. Channing didn't understand any of the words, but she could feel the sensations that radiated around them.
First, her body relaxed, even though she hadn't bid it to do so. Then a feeling of deep reassurance and well-being infiltrated her, a feeling that where they were gathered was a refuge of safety. Whether he believed it or not, Keoman's powers seemed to be growing stronger. Whatever magic he called down worked. She was ready to do whatever was needed. Not necessarily invigorated, but filled with determination and resolve.
Keoman and Gagewin lowered their voices gradually until their words trailed off into silence. Then they waited for another minute, heads bowed as they evidently sent out their own unspoken prayers and requests for the welfare of their group.
"We're ready now," Keoman said confidently. "We're as prepared as we can be against the danger we might run into."
After a few more instructions, which included a reminder that the gear bags strapped on each machine held water, trail mix and first aid kits, they re-started their snowmobiles and broke up into their assigned units.
"I want us to ride side-by-side as much as possible," Radin told her as the other four men left. "We're going to be looking around, so we won't be going fast. And we don't want to use our walkies for chit-chat. But if we go into an area where you have to follow behind me, I'll keep an eye over my shoulder and make sure I don't get too far ahead."
"I appreciate that," Channing said. "And I'll do my best to be an asset rather than a hindrance."
Radin smiled at her, then turned his sled to head into the woods, waiting until she came up beside him before he rode off.
Despite the seriousness of their quest, distraction loomed constantly, and Channing had to rein in her fascination. She was supposed to be examining the area they slowly traversed for signs of any man-made disturbance, albeit a long-ago one. However, everything was so lovely, she kept wishing they could just stop and enjoy the peace and beauty. She also watched for animals, hoping she might spy a deer or moose. Given all the noisy machines traveling through the wilderness, she assumed that was a useless wish, but it was something to concentrate on, a different focus than the worry over Sandy's daughter.
Eventually Channing noticed Radin was leading them back and forth across a track he comprehended in his own mind; crisscrossing the grid they had been assigned, looking for any sign they might be near where the old cabin had been located. At last they came out of the woods at the foot of a steep hill.
Radin idled his snowmobile as he lifted his face mask. "There are several caves on that hill. We're not close to where the mine shaft had been planned. That's probably where Keoman wanted to see if he could sense anything."
"I understand," Channing said.
"Have you ever used snowshoes?" Radin asked.
"No. I've skied, but that's about it."
He shut down his snowmobile and dismounted. Channing turned her engine off, also, but stayed astride the leather seat.
She'd noticed the gear bag tied behind Radin's seat with bungie cords, and now he unwrapped a blanket beneath that and exposed a bow and quiver of arrows on top of a pair of snowshoes. Channing hadn't even realized she had lost some of the feeling of security that had been with her back beside the lake. Now she relaxed at the sight of the bow and arrows. She'd seen them work before against Nenegean and was glad they were in Radin's arsenal of safety measures.
"One of the caves is about fifty feet above us," Radin said. "It's in our search grid, so I have to check it out. Make sure your radio is on. If you see anything at all that bothers you, call me."
"If it's only that far, I should be able to just yell out to you," Channing reasoned.
"That, too," Radin agreed as he strapped on the snowshoes. Then he picked up the quiver of arrows and handed one of them to her. "You know what this is for?"
"I do." She grasped the arrow firmly. "Thank you."
"We'
re probably not in danger here," he said. "But there's no such thing as being too much on guard when we're dealing with an evil entity."
With one last glance, Radin shouldered the quiver and, carrying the bow, started up the hillside. Channing looked ahead to where she thought he might be going. A deep, unbroken layer of snow covered the hillside, but there was a sunken spot in a straight line along Radin's path.
Channing frowned as she thought of something. They were in deep wilderness where, from what she had gleaned, no humans had ventured for years. She would have thought the animals would feel free to wander here, leaving tracks behind to signify their presence. However, she saw no signs anywhere, and she hadn't noticed any animal trails crossing the area she and Radin had searched.
"Damn it!" Radin shouted, and Channing's heart lurched into her throat. She grasped the arrow even tighter as her gaze shot to where he lay in the snow.
"Sorry," he called. "Lost my balance. It's been a while since I've snow-shoed."
Channing never took her eyes off Radin for the rest of the time it took him to reach the sunken depression in the snow. She watched him lean against a boulder, the bow clutched in his hand, and scoop snow away with his other hand. Finally, he stood up and used the bow to knock away some snow above his head. After he cleared it, Channing could see a small opening in front of him.
Radin leaned forward. All at once, he fell in, his scream muffled when his body disappeared.
Chapter 22
Another dead snowshoe hare hanging from her hand, Nenegean stood still behind a boulder. It amazed her how easily she had caught both rabbits. If it had only been so simple before.
The memories continued to return, a possible explanation of why she was now in this existence. The remembrances didn't soothe her, though. Instead, they filled her with a sense of sorrow and loneliness hard to push away.
She had returned here for privacy. To try to reason out actions she did by instinct, even if she did not completely understand why. And, of course, to comfort and feed the children. They would have to wait a while, though. She could not risk the necessary smoke to cook this rabbit.
The strange people encroaching on the land where she had lived in another time now intruded on her need to care for the two of them, as well as her desire for solitude. They rode those loud, obnoxious things like the man and woman she had encountered. This time, there were far too many of them for her to launch an attack. The smells of the people and odor of the fumes from the things carrying them into her wilderness mixed together in air that should be cold and clean.
Anger swelled when one of the men put on a pair of agims. They were not as well-crafted as the snowshoes the women in the tribe had made for their men. Those were measured and fitted for the particular man who would wear them. The ones on this man in the distance looked too small for his largeness. Still, he didn't walk in them as though it were his first time to wear such. In fact, he strode confidently forward.
No, her mind screamed when she saw where his path would take him. But there was nothing she could do. She stared into the distance, where dozens more invaded land he and she had once called their own. Where she had hoped to be safe. She couldn't fight any of them right now. They were all protected by something she could not breach.
~~~~
Keoman almost missed it when he didn't pay attention to the tiny whisper inside him. A whisper that had been absent for so long, he didn't realize it had even called to him at first. In fact, the thought had already left his mind by the time he froze and tried desperately to bring it back. Kept his body completely still, eyes closed, searching the realm around him for what he knew without doubt was important.
It had snowed again. It snowed often this time of year, but fortunately the skies had only dropped a scant amount. Still, he would have disregarded it after he opened his eyes, had he not been aware he needed to be hyper-vigilant. It was more that the layer of snow was not completely flat than anything else. He bent down and brushed aside the white to reveal the pale pink cuff of a child's mitten.
"Gabe!" Keoman grabbed the mitten and glanced around for his companion. Gabe knelt in the snow, looking at something. "Gabe!" he repeated. "I need you up here!"
Gabe rose and stared up at Keoman. "What is it?"
Keoman waved the mitten.
Within moments, Gabe had climbed the hillside to join Keoman. The other man stared down at the tiny child's glove in fascination.
"It hasn't been here long," Gabe said. "And it looks like a little girl's."
Keoman's gaze probed around them. "All this tells us, though, is that Nenegean carried a child that might have been Lark through here. But where did she hide her?"
"We need to get the others here to help search." Gabe pulled his walkie talkie from his coat pocket.
"If you don't mind," Keoman said, "go back down where you were and do that. I want to be alone up here right now."
Gabe nodded in understanding.
~~~~
Just as Channing started to struggle up the hillside to Radin, the walkie talkie in her snowsuit pocket sputtered with static. She had to take it out before the transmission was clear. Then she comprehended every word.
"I repeat," a man's voice said. "We need everyone to the grid area where Keoman and I are. We think we've found something."
"Oh, God, I hope it's the children," Channing murmured, then she yelled up the hill, "Radin! Radin, can you hear me?"
She couldn't tell if he answered. The transmission on the walkie went on, though.
"I'm going to Channel One to contact the others," the man said. "Gagewin, Grant, Radin and Dr. Drury, get here as soon as you can. I'm out and changing channels now.'
According to their instructions, Channing knew she was supposed to click over to the assigned emergency channel, but first, she let the radio go silent and called again as loudly as she could, "Radin! Can you hear me? Are you all right?"
She thought she heard a faint sound, possibly Radin's voice. But he didn't appear at the mouth of the hole. Then she heard another shout from up there. It sounded like Radin yelled something about a rope.
"Of course." Channing shoved the radio into her pocket without changing it. Walking toward Radin's snowmobile, she said to herself, "He probably fell far enough down to where he needs a rope to get out."
Radin had left the yellow nylon rope that tied his bow and snowshoes together lying on the seat. Channing hurriedly picked it up and wound it around her waist, so she would have both hands free should she fall while climbing the hill. She tied the knot to secure it and looked up …
… just as Nenegean stepped out from behind a large tree a few dozen feet down the trail she and Radin had ridden up.
Channing cursed silently as she glanced between the entity and her own snowmobile. In her worry over Radin, she had left her arrow on the seat. It wasn't that far between her and it, but previous experience told Channing that Nenegean could be on her before she took even one step.
Something dangled from the entity's hand — a dead rabbit, its bloody white coat clearly visible against the dirty buckskin skirt and leggings. Channing jerked her gaze away and braced herself when Nenegean glided forward a few steps.
"Stay away!" Channing instinctively ordered.
Nenegean continued onward. She closed the distance between the two of them resolutely, steadily. The closer she got, the more fiercely terror coursed through Channing.
The wind shifted, blowing toward her, and the odor hit Channing. By the time Nenegean drew so close the smell nauseated her, Channing wished she had gone ahead and made an attempt for the consecrated arrow. Too late now. Nenegean stood close to the snowmobile, although she cast a wary glance at where the arrow lay.
"Nimaamaa," she said, and Channing tried to pull herself together enough to memorize the word, or at least, the phonetics of it.
Nim uu muu.
For a second, she thought about repeating the word back to Nenegean, but common sense battled through her fear.
What if that made the entity attack?
Nenegean repeated the same word, then shrugged, perhaps realizing Channing didn't understand her language. She dropped the rabbit and cupped her arms together in a rocking motion, the universal language of a woman with a baby in her arms.
"Nimaamaa."
Shock filled Channing. Was the entity trying to communicate? It couldn't be. Everything she knew about Nenegean indicated she didn't have the same cognizant abilities as a human. Nodinens had cautioned strongly against believing that.
Yet there was no mistaking the gesture. Channing had held Rose and other women's babies in the same manner. Was Nenegean trying to tell her something about the children?
Nenegean grunted another word — "Abinoojii" — along with the first word again, and rocked the invisible child.
It took every effort she could muster, but Channing slowly lifted her arms. Her hand hit the lump beneath her coat where the spirit bundle nestled, but she quickly decided not to pull it out. She cupped her arms and imitated the entity's motion.
Nenegean smiled, although the gesture was ruined by the gaping mouth filled with razor-sharp fangs. Then she laid one hand on her own bodice and repeated, "Nimaamaa."
"Mother?" Channing whispered in English.
Nenegean cocked her head as though trying to understand Channing. Then she knelt in the snow and held out her arms as though prompting a toddler to walk toward her.
"Children?" Channing said louder, then, "Can you tell me where the children are? Please tell me where you hid the children."
At that moment, the radio in her pocket came to life with a mixture of static and shouts. Channing heard "child" and "safe," as well as what sounded like an order to hurry.
When she glanced back to where Nenegean had stood, the entity was gone. The rabbit still lay on the ground.
Channing nearly fell when she tried to move on legs still frozen with fright. For a long instant, her muscles refused to respond. Finally, keeping a watchful perusal for Nenegean, she managed a step. Then another.