Consequences (28 page)

“Why does it smell like blood, and wet dog,
in here?”

“Christopher ripped out his I.V. at some
point last night, and made a mess. And the dogs’ smell, well, you
should probably see that for yourself.” I slide past her petite
frame and enter the bedroom. Holding open Christopher’s bathroom
door, I motion for her to cross the threshold.

The Shower is starting to cool down, however
neither Christopher nor Artemis notice. While Ann kneels down next
to the tub, I shut off the water. He still has his arms around the
white, furry shoulders, and his face semi-buried in her neck, but
it looks as if he has lost consciousness again. Artemis looks
cautiously at our guest, and as Ann compassionately brushes her
hand against Christopher’s cheek, the young wolf licks her
fingers.

Looking into Artemis’s eyes, Ann speaks in a
soft, easy tone, “I won’t hurt him, I promise.” Then looking back
at me she continues, “She’s beautiful … is she Lune’s?”

I nod in response, and she tentatively
reaches up and strokes Artemis’s cheek. When she speaks again, the
business tone has returned, “We need to get him out of here before
he gets too cold. Could you, please, carry him into the
bedroom?”

Ann persuades Artemis to climb out of the
tub, and then wraps her up in a towel. Rubbing roughly she manages
to get most of the water out of the dog’s coat, while I struggle to
lift Christopher back up onto my shoulder. Carrying him like a sack
of potatoes, I maneuver back into his bedroom and set him on the
bed. Ann follows with a fresh towel, and asks if I will help her
get him into some dry clothes. Moving together like old pros at a
nursing school, we manage to get him changed and back under the
covers. Curled up with Artemis, on the bed next to Christopher, Ann
watches as I reinsert the I.V. into his arm and hang a new bag of
saline solution.

Ann is so small compared to Christopher’s
lanky frame, but I can tell her personality more than makes up for
her size. Dark chocolate hair cascades over her shoulders, and
hangs in loose curls around her face. I have the sudden urge to
pull one of the strands away from her eyes, but think better of it,
when I notice the way she is looking at Christopher. There is love
in that determined gaze, and I am surprised that I feel jealous. I
watch her eyes shift from beneath thick lashes; she is studying his
face, the way one does when they’re in the middle of a deep
conversation. Then I remember what Ann’s talent is … she can
project her voice into people’s minds. She is having a conversation
with Christopher, a one-sided conversation … but maybe she can
reach him. So I decide to give the girls some privacy alone with
Christopher.

Walking into the kitchen, I set to work
making a new batch of coffee in the French press. With a fresh,
steaming mug in hand, I take Lune outside for a walk. The air is
cool enough for the mug to fog up my sunglasses when I take a
drink, giving the tree line a paranormal haze. As I watch, Lune
passes behind one of the trees, cautiously stalking an unseen
presence. His tail is down, but the hair on his back doesn’t
prickle; even in his careful posture, there isn’t any sign of a
pending threat.

“If you have come to visit us, there is no
need to hide. I can’t hear, see, or sense you; therefore I assume
you’re a very special kind of visitor. There are people in the
cabin that are better suited to greet you. If you come out of the
trees, I’ll bring someone out here to meet with you.” I try to keep
my voice level, but in hearing it waver a little … I have to admit
how unnerved I am at the thought that V may have followed Ann here
from Vegas. Although after reading Lune’s posture, I am pretty sure
this is a new guest, one he has never met. One, who doesn't seem to
be a threat.

Smoothly turning, to hide my paranoia, I head
back into the cabin. I can hear Ann’s voice from the bedroom … it
appears that her silent, one-sided conversation, has become a loud
pleading for Christopher to wake up. Tentatively opening the door
enough to stick my head into the room, I ask her to join me in the
kitchen. Shaking her head at Christopher, she slides off the bed,
and grabs her empty mug off the nightstand.

I offer to take her mug and refill it, and
she gladly hands it over and then distractedly mouths a quiet thank
you. As she sits down at the table, I notice that her eyebrows are
pressed together; the expression of deep thought is actually very
attractive on her. Wait, you can’t allow yourself to be distracted,
there is too much we need to discuss … plus, she doesn’t even know
you’re alive.

“Did you make any progress with finding out
what is tormenting him?” I place the mug down in front of her and
join her at the table.

“No … like you said, he’s in a bad way. He
seems to have simply given up. This has to be about Ellie … Tell
me, has she been back?” My heart skips a beat as she looks in my
eyes, clearly trying to read what has been happening since she
talked to Christopher last.

“Not physically, but he’s been visiting her
with Artemis’s help.” I answer her questioning expression before
she can speak. “Christopher thinks that Artemis can pass through
the veil between the ethereal mist and our own. She has a special
connection to Christopher, and takes him on these journeys to see
Ellie while they sleep. Going on, about ten days ago now; he didn’t
wholly return from their last trip. Something has happened to
Ellie; I’ve gathered that much from his ramblings … and whatever it
was … it broke him, and buried part of his soul across the bridge
to their world. I’m just a normal guy with no clue how to help …
that’s why I called you. I’m sorry to have dragged you into
this.”

Holding my stare, she reaches out and takes
my hand. “I’m glad you called; he never would have. I’m not sure
what I can do either … I don’t have the same kind of talent as
Christopher. I don’t know of anyone who is as powerful, is as
connected to the mist, as he is … except maybe, other than Artemis,
and I can’t talk to her. Damn it … the helplessness is stifling. I
just wish there was some way … or someone who could help us find
out what happened to Ellie.”

I don’t want to let go of her hand, small and
delicate, it feels so soft against my callused fingers. What she
has said about finding someone … perhaps another creature like
Ellie, who could help us, suddenly I remember our guest outside.
“Ann, there is someone outside that I think you should meet. Lune
found them earlier, and well, let’s just say they are the kind of
visitor that only you and the dogs can see. Lune didn’t act like
they were a threat, but I’ll leave that decision up to you.”

“I made sure no one followed me … especially
not V! He has been fixated on paying Christopher back. If V found
him in this condition, he’d take great delight in ripping
Christopher to shreds.” Panic seeps into her words and her eyes
become large with fear.

“No, no … I don’t think it's V. Lune acted
like it was someone new, someone he’d never met before.”

“You don’t think!?! Well, that right there
would be our problem.”

As she stands she shoves the chair back and
it topples over. Stomping her feet, she walks over and grabs her
coat. Shoving her hands into the sleeves, she looks back at me
expectantly. “Are you coming?”

I follow Ann out the front door; trying to
not look at my feet as we walk, but I feel like a scolded child, so
I guess I should look like one. The confident pace of Ann’s stride
makes her look ten feet taller than her five-foot-two-inch height;
and I have a feeling that whoever is out here is going to be
intimidated by her manner. Calling Lune to my side, I send him out
in front of us. Seeing Lune’s attitude as he runs out to greet the
unknown presence changes Ann’s determined paranoia, concerning the
potential threat looming in the trees. He runs fearlessly to the
spot where I ask the entity to wait; and, as this is his second
peaceful greeting, he has his tail held high in a friendly
wave.

Ann stops, and watches the exchange with a
weary expression. Studying the trees for a glimpse of something
important that will confirm her claim that Lune and I are being
reckless; her body language is still screaming: suspicion.
Immediately stiffening, she catches her breath with a sharp audible
intake of air through her teeth.

“Who are you?” Despite her stance of
mistrust, her voice is full of wonder at the sight of what is
standing before us.

“What? Ann … what?” I don’t know if I should
be frightened or relieved, but the knot forming in my stomach is
leaning towards frightened.

She holds one finger up at me, telling me to
wait … and then she proceeds to continue talking to thin air. I
might have taken the signal better if I hadn’t just been scolded
like a school boy. Plus, what does she care … she doesn’t even know
my name. Fuming, but with enough common sense to keep my mouth
shut, I stride over, lean against a nearby tree, and listen to
Ann’s side of the conversation. I am hoping for something to start
making sense in all this crap.

“Wait a minute … why does it matter that I
can see you? Okay. I think I recognize the Symboulio … but here, in
America, it’s pronounced Symbio … the Council of Symbio, and there
is nothing for you to fear from them. I joined the council about
six months ago; they are all about forming symbiotic relationships
with ethereal Others. Yes, it was founded by the original European
settlers, but their doctrine was rewritten to include Native
American knowledge … as a matter of fact quite a few of the council
elders are Native American.”

Ann pauses for a long time, listening, and
nodding her head … her posture starts to reshape out of stiff
paranoia, and into something like reverence. When she speaks again,
I can barely hear the words that she shapes with such care, “Ho
Thanatos?”

Something pure and delicate is uttered in the
way Ann’s lips handle the words. I want to know what they mean … I
want to know who this is, and how they can crack a hard nut like
Ann, so quickly.

“You’re saying there is such a thing as Ho
Thanatos hunters? What does any of this have to do with your need
to speak to Christopher?” With the wonder in her voice and the
change in her body language, as annoying as it is to be left in the
dark, I know that this conversation is important in answering most
of, if not all, our questions.

“Ann, obviously this is someone who is in our
best interest to know. Would you like to move this discussion into
the cabin?” When she meets my eyes I see an incomprehensible
sadness that melts my irritation immediately. I walk back over to
her side and lightly grab her hand, and gently turning her, I lead
us all back in the direction of the front door.

“Michael … she said that Ellie’s gone, she's
been murdered.” She knows my name, and hearing it on her tongue
makes me smile … but only for a second, as comprehension dawns on
what is breaking Christopher. But Ann doesn’t offer any further
explanation as we walk back inside.

Lune follows about ten feet behind us;
preceded by our guest, is my best guess. After he moves inside, I
close out the cold, hoping that I don’t shut out any unseen
visitors. Turning, I find Ann over by the wood burning stove
talking to the chair. She still has her coat on; and even though
sweat is beading on her forehead, she is shivering. It seems that,
our guest has decided to grant us the pleasure of their
company.

When I hear Artemis scratching at
Christopher’s door, I am struck by the sudden question … how will
she respond to the presence that is talking with Ann? Curiosity
leads me to the door; and even though I am not sure if it is a good
idea, I let Artemis out to investigate. She walks cautiously over
to the chair, with her head held high, it is obvious that she is
trying to make, and hold, eye contact. Instead of lowering her
tail, in a show of mistrust, she holds it curled upward, not
wagging in friendship, but to illustrate that she is willing to
give this person a chance. Never breaking eye contact, she slowly
sits in front of the chair that seems empty to me, but obviously
holds someone of great importance. I can’t believe my eyes as I
watch the fur of her mane flatten as if it was being stroked.
Artemis responds to the affection by leaning her head against the
unseen hand. I have the feeling that I am watching the interaction
between two very majestic creatures, a historical meeting never
witnessed before. And, I wish I could see like Ann.

With my thoughts shifting to Ann, I notice
that she had stopped talking at some point, and is watching the
exchange with as much interest as me. While Artemis plays hostess,
I think it is a good time to ask Ann, who this creature is, and
what she has learned. Again gently placing my hand on Ann’s, I
guide her into the living room. Helping her take off her coat, and
trying to comfort her through the shock of whatever she has
learned, I press for enlightenment.

“Her name is Cassandra. She is the original
Cassandra from Greek mythology … and she was Ellie’s mentor.” Ann’s
voice is in a state of perpetual awe, and hearing what she is
saying, I can understand why.

“That can’t be right … that would make her …
something like, three thousand years old?”

Dreamily looking through my eyes, “I know …
but, Michael … if you could see her, the energy, the beauty … my
God, if you could see the power surrounding her …” As her words
trail off, I understand almost immediately; Ann has never seen
anything so regal, so magnificent as Cassandra … not even in her
dreams.

“Okay, Okay … then, do we believe her?” I
don’t think Ann actually believes anyone, and blind faith is
definitely not one of her attributes. Knowing that Ann will rather
err on the side of caution in matters of trust, and even though I
sound like an imbecile in need of guidance on how to blow my nose,
asking her opinion seems to be the best idea.