Darkthunder's Way (21 page)

Alec shrugged. “Well I just got one humdinger of a headache all of a sudden. And there’s something floating around the back of my mind I meant to tell you and can’t recall, but I guess it’s not important.”

“Maybe you’re catching something.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Maybe you should use that as an excuse to fast.”

Alec chuckled wanly. “Maybe I will.”

They talked on, planning, coordinating activities, plotting strategy to convince Dr. McLean, though the more they talked the more Alec seemed certain he would pose no problem. Thankfully the fair was ending that day, so there’d be no trouble as far as Alec’s concession job was concerned. And when David dropped Alec off at his house and started home, one part of him, at least, was a tiny bit more comforted.

*

Alec, however, was anything but relieved. Why had he agreed to such a preposterous proposition anyway? He was supposed to meet Eva that evening, and had no idea when thereafter. But now, he would have to sandwich that in around packing for yet another trip to who-knew-where, all because he could not bear the idea of being left out—that somebody else might share something with David he could not.

Well, he had his own secrets now too: ones he had
not
shared, though he had intended to. That puzzled him a little, because he had been right on the edge of telling David about his own amorous escapade when something had made him substitute the same lie he had told his father. It wasn’t the headache that had zapped him about that time, he realized, though that was what he had first thought; but simply the fact that to do so would be to sully his memory of Eva, and that was a notion he could not stand.

Eva! She would be leaving soon, though just when he wasn’t certain. She looked about his age, so she probably had to get to school somewhere, which meant about a week, max. After all, she had said she was only visiting. But
then
where would she go? Alec found himself wondering, and wondering other things as well: like her last name. Like what her folks did. What had they talked about, anyway? He hardly recalled. Just him, and his hopes and desires, and his friends, and…and something else he could not clearly remember, that made his head hurt again when he tried to find it. Probably something about David. He was always talking about David.

Tonight, though, would be different. Tonight they would talk about her.

* * *

“Right on time,” Eva whispered, as Alec made his way into the ruins late that evening. She rose from where she’d been sitting with her back against an ivy-covered wall. She had built a tiny fire, and Alec was grateful for it, for a sudden chill brushed him, even as his fingers caught hers. She was wearing a loose white dress, almost like a robe. Starlit against the dark leaves, the effect was truly breathtaking. He had swapped his suit for Bugle Boys and a Batman T-shirt. His parents had not heard him leave.

“I try to be punctual,” he said. “I—”

“Still talk too much!” She laughed, silencing him with a smile.

They stood there for a moment, not speaking; Alec could feel his heart already racing, his body coming alive at that gentlest of touches. And then the caresses became more complex and longer, and very soon there was no fabric between them.

“Jesus,” Alec gasped as he lay back at last, then realized he was naked and tugged on his pants while Eva looked on amused.

Alec caught her smile and returned it.

“And what’s so funny, my Alec?”

“Oh, just that…I’ve never done it with someone like you.”

“Nor anyone else, I suspect.”

Alec colored to his spiky hairline.

“Well, no. But…”

She ran a hand along his ribs. “You were fine.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking how funny it was for me of all people to just walk up to somebody and…well, you know. I mean, usually when I see somebody I like, I talk a lot, and…”

“We can talk now, if you want.”

Alec leaned against her shoulder and stroked her bare thigh absently. “Sure. And as a matter of fact there’s a bunch of stuff I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

She caught his hand and brought it to her lips. Their eyes met over the knuckles. “And I have a few things I need to ask you too.”

“Me first.”

“No.”

“What?” But Alec was gazing into her eyes and before he knew it was lost in them. The world tilted and swam, and suddenly he was at one remove from himself. It was like being drunk, watching his head swaying back and forth as Eva dropped his hands and regarded him with all traces of warmth gone from her exquisite features.

“Power walked this land last night, Alec McLean,” she whispered. “Much of it I saw, but little read. Perhaps you could tell me more.”

“Power?”

“You could start with David Sullivan. What has he told you lately? What that
mortal
men would not know?”

Alec opened his mouth to begin, but paused. He couldn’t tell her, even if he wanted to. Yet…yet she
knew,
which meant…yet the Ban of Lugh… But…but something was wrong. Eva was suddenly not Eva but something far more sinister.

“What…how do you know of Power?”

A laugh, but not a pleasant one. “Because I was born to it, foolish boy. And I have your seed in me, and thereby have mastery of all that you are. You will tell me now—tell me all! What does Lugh intend?” She grasped his head, pulled it toward her, though he tried to wrench away. “Tell me, Alec McLean, by your Name I demand it!”

And Alec did: all he could recall, including everything David had said to him that morning word-for-word. Almost an hour passed before he sank back, exhausted.

“It is as I supposed,” Eva said when he had finished. “And I know what I must do.”

“What?” Alec asked sleepily. “Do for what?”

“Nothing that need concern you,” she whispered, soothing damp hair off his brow. “You should rest here a time, while I procure a certain something that ought to prove very useful.”

Alec started to rise, but she stopped him, and he sank down again. Their gazes locked briefly. “Sleep, my Alec,” she said. “And dream exactly what I tell you.”

*

Alec awoke somewhat later and sat up with a start. Where was he? He looked around, saw the comforting walls, the trickle of a fire. And Eva sitting beside him, calmly looking at him and smiling.

“I…Jesus, I’m sorry. I must have dropped off.”

“It was the wine.” Eva laughed softly, indicating a pair of silver goblets and an empty bottle that now rested between them, though Alec had no memory at all of how they had come there. “You apparently have little head for it.”

“Evidently not,” Alec said, rubbing his neck where it had stiffened. “I don’t remember a thing about it.”

“Not even why we drank it?”

Alec shook his head. “’Fraid not.”

“I brought it to ease our parting. I fear it did its work too well.”

“Our…parting?”

Eva nodded sadly. “Tonight is the last time we can be together. In fact, I must depart in a few moments. I had hoped you would remember.”

Alec sat bolt upright. “Eva, no! There’s so much I don’t know!”

“And that you
should
not know,” she whispered. “Sometimes remembered feelings are more pleasant than remembered facts.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Alec!”

He turned and stared at her, feeling tears start to burn in his eyes. “But you’ll be gone! And I’ll have…nobody.”

“What of your friends?”

“It’s not the same.”

“I cannot help it.”

His jaw tightened. “Can’t you?”

“No.”

“Stay.”

“I cannot. I have work to do. One thing only I can give you to remember me by.”

She reached into her purse—a fringed item made of soft leather that looked handmade—and removed a silver box, which she handed to him.

He took it and stared at her quizzically.

“Open it.”

He did, and gasped as he saw what lay inside.

It was a dagger. Barely five inches long, that blade was; its hilt scarcely shorter. But it shimmered in the faint light. Simple was the design, yet perfectly proportioned and balanced. A leather sheath lay beside it. Alec drew it out and examined it.

“I made it,” Eva said. “And now I give it to you.”

“I can’t accept this!”

“But you must, my Alec. You
must
!” She put a strange inflection on the final word, and Alec felt his thoughts slip out of focus. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to look into those wonderful eyes. He did—and felt his head spin again as words slammed into his brain.
You must,
that voice repeated,
for that dagger has one particular use I would have you put it to. When the time comes you will know it, as you will know exactly what to tell your father so you can join your friend on his journey.

She told him, then: both things; and Alec heard her words in his mind—but even as they were spoken, they seemed to sink out of sight, become drowned in his subconscious. When he came to himself, she was standing before him, smiling.

“Thank you again,” she said, “for your most excellent company that has brought joy to a stranger in your land.”

Alec gazed at the dagger in his hand. “And thank you for this most excellent present.”

“Do not forget your promise.”

Alec’s mind blanked for a moment. “Promise…?”

“That you will show my gift to no one else, nor tell anyone you have met me.”

His face lit as he found the memory. “Of course. It’ll be our secret.”

“One of many,” Eva said quietly, and rose.

“I’ll come with you,” Alec called, starting to join her.

“No,” came her reply—already she was at the edge of the terrace. “I want to remember you exactly as you are.” With a whisper of wind on fabric she entered the forest and was gone.

Alec slumped down by the fire and waited. Five minutes trickled by, then ten. He searched his memories, savored each one. And then tears started down his cheeks as he thought of Eva, how he would never see her again. They had done so much together, and there was so much left to do. But still, there were the memories. He did not know that not a single one of them was true.

PART II

GALUNLATI

Chapter XIV: Into the Asi

(Sullivan Cove
, Georgia—Monday, August 19—morning)

Monday dawned clear, though much cooler than was seasonable—as David discovered when he dashed down to the paper box barefoot and almost got frostbite along with the
Atlanta Constitution.
In spite of the sun, he shivered. An upward glance showed the familiar red disk peeking over the mountains to the east.
Last time I’ll be seein’
you
for a while, old buddy,
he thought, and sighed.

Was he really about to embark on yet another foray into some other World? One where he would have nothing to guide him except what he’d learned from a few quick conversations with Uncle Dale and Calvin, neither of whom knew as much as he’d hoped; and a second, brief session with Oisin the previous evening. As for the sun, his companion of seventeen summers, he wondered what it would be like in Galunlati. Or would there even
be
one? He frowned thoughtfully, searching his memory. According to Oisin the Cherokee Overworld consisted basically of archetypical reflections of the natural world. Which meant… Well, one thing it didn’t mean was there’d be a sun. He shivered again and went inside.

Calvin looked up from the breakfast table as he entered. His new friend seemed calm, but a slight tic in his angular jaw showed that he was not. No plate sat before him, and the same prevailed at David’s place. Only a half-empty mug of coffee gave any indication of sustenance. Little Billy by contrast looked smug, full, and well contented. Probably the little fiend had taken maximum advantage of the sudden lack of competition for the breakfast bacon and biscuits.

David tossed the paper in his father’s general direction, dragged out a chair, and flopped down in it—and wished he hadn’t, because it put him perfectly in range of a full whiff of breakfast. His stomach growled violently and twisted itself into a yet tighter knot—if that was possible. He rolled his eyes pitifully and tugged his already snug belt in a notch. It had been more than a day since he’d had anything to eat. Only the coffee kept him going.

“Sure you won’t have something?” his mother asked. She actually seemed worried about him.

David shook his head. “Let’s not start that again, Ma. You know what I’m doing, and why.”

“It’s all craziness, if you ask me,” Big Billy opined, extracting the sports section. “Stickin’ your nose in where it don’t belong. Good thing I don’t need you much this week or you’d be in trouble.”

“It’s only for a few days max, Pa,” David protested, though he actually had no idea how long the quest would take, nor did it really matter, since Uncle Dale would be covering chores for him. It was too bad about his father, though; too bad that his earlier empathy had already faded. Things were back to normal—the same old contentious normal. Some folks simply had no sense of wonder.