Warrior (The Word and the Void) Read online

  “What was that all about?” she asked, giving him a look that suggested he best not sugarcoat it.

  But he did anyway, unwilling as yet to reveal everything he knew – especially about the agent of the Void who had approached him at the airport and threatened to harm not only himself but Anne and the children. So he simply said he had heard something outside – a fight of some sort – and found Scoot dead in the yard. He had buried the cat and would tell Mila in the morning. Must have been a large predator, he suggested, so he would need to warn the neighbors to keep a close eye on their pets and children for the next week or so, just in case it returned.

  “It was pretty brutal,” he added. “Poor old Scoot.”

  Anne didn’t question him on the details, but he thought she suspected there was more to the story. They could always sense that about each other – that feeling of something being held back or watered down. Their unspoken pact to always be truthful with each other allowed them to see beyond words and expressions to what was in the eyes and heart. But Jack had never told Anne about his encounter with Two Bears or the Lady, had never mentioned his trip to Wales and Fairy Glen, and had never said a word about his commitment as a Knight of the Word and the real purpose of the black staff he always carried with him.

  He did not think now was the time to do so, either – even though he knew in his heart that what had happened to Scoot was not a coincidence and had nothing to with wild animals. The arrival of the man in black almost certainly signaled the start of the struggle the Lady had warned about, but he had to be absolutely sure before he even thought about confiding in his wife.

  And he wasn’t at all sure he could make himself to so even then.

  So, when morning arrived, he rose, showered and dressed, waited for Mila to come down to breakfast, and broke the news about Scoot. He did not go into any details, but she was bright enough and old enough that she understood what had happened. She cried a bit before announcing she would make a marker for Scoot and put it on his grave, so she would always remember him. Jack hugged her and told her he loved her and promised he would come take a look at the marker once she had it ready to place. He said Mommy would come look too, and maybe each one of them would tell a story or two about Scoot so that they would always remember him.

  It was still early when he walked from his home to the grocery store five blocks away for orange juice, milk and a newspaper. Seattle was a series of neighborhood communities, each identified by a specific name. There was Queen Anne, Capitol Hill, Magnolia, Ballard, Green Lake, the U District and several more, all clustered about the downtown core. Jack and Anne lived in West Seattle, which occupied a peninsula that lay on the other side of Elliott Bay and directly across from the city. They were actually close to the southern border of their neighborhood, not far from Lincoln Park and the Vashon Island Ferry terminal. It was a mixed residential and small business community, which Jack liked, because everything from gas stations to grocery stores to Starbucks to cleaners and a few cafes and bistros were an easy walk from home. There was a sense of belonging that he hadn’t found anywhere else since he had married Anne, and not since Hopewell from before.

  He entered the grocery store, grabbed a basket, and began to move up and down the aisles, not only picking out the items he had come for but also a few others he decided he might need. He was lost in thought and not paying any attention to who was around him until a shadow blocked his path, and he knew even before he finished looking up who it was.

  The man he had encountered at the airport, still wearing the same black ensemble, stood there smiling. “Fancy meeting you again so soon,” he said.

  “Does seem like an odd coincidence,” Jack agreed.

  “Not so odd. It’s my neighborhood store now, too. At least for a while.” He paused, as if assessing Jack. “Hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you look a bit tired this morning. Bad night, was it?”

  “What do you think?”

  Another smile. “I think your family lost a cat.”

  Jack looked away for a moment. “Yep. Wild animals. Never know what they’ll do or where you’ll find them these days.”

  “True enough. Got to keep a sharp eye out.” The man gave a shrug. “Well, best be on my way. I expect we’ll see each other again before too long. Give my regards to your wife and kids.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be doing that. Don’t think I’ll be seeing you around for much longer either.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t bet on that. And one thing more. You should start pretending you’re talking on your cell because, at the moment, it looks like you’re talking to yourself. All these other folks?” He gestured. “They can’t see me. Only you can.”

  “My bad luck, I guess. Maybe that will change.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” The man touched the brim of his black hat. “Sorry about your cat.”

  Jack stared at him expressionlessly. “No, you’re not.”

  The big man laughed. “No, I guess I’m not. But it was sort of cute. I hated to mess it up like that.”

  He was starting to walk past when Jack grabbed his arm and held him fast, their faces only inches apart. “Sometimes, it’s best to leave well enough alone. Otherwise, your luck can turn on you. And that can be a nasty.”

  The man studied him calmly, then gently but firmly extracted his arm. “Likely we’ll find out, won’t we?”

  He walked away, turned a corner at the end of the aisle and disappeared.

  * * * * *

  Jack went home, thinking about what he should do. The demon was making no pretense at being anything but what it was. It was also making no effort to conceal its intentions regarding what was in store for Jack and his family. The need to alert Anne had taken on new urgency. If the demon intended to get to Jack through Anne or the children, didn’t they need to be aware enough of the danger so they could be on the lookout? Certainly Anne was entitled to a warning. The baby was too little to understand any of this, and Mila was too young to have to deal with it even knowing what it meant.

  So shouldn’t he at least tell Anne?

  But if he did, what then? What would she be able to do to protect herself? If the demon could get as close to Jack as it had already demonstrated it could, what chance did Anne have of avoiding it? She could lock herself and the kids in their house and stay there until this was over, but somehow Jack knew that even doing that wouldn’t be enough to protect them.

  But mostly – and certainly selfishly – he did not want Anne to find out about his connection to the Word and the Lady. He was afraid of what it would do to their marriage and to their lives as a couple. Would she even believe him, or would she think him deranged? There was every reason for her to question his story and even insist he go in for therapy. If she was telling him what he was considering telling her, that would be his first response. He would feel sorry for her, want to help her through whatever was troubling her, and book her an appointment immediately.

  None of which would help protect them from the demon.

  No, he decided after he was within half a block of their home. He couldn’t do it. It was too much to ask her to believe. No matter how sincere he sounded, no matter how hard he tried, she would never be able to do it. He wouldn’t have believed it either if he hadn’t witnessed it and hadn’t been exposed to the Lady and the creatures of the Fairy Glen. Just telling about it wasn’t enough. You had to be there.

  He stopped just outside his doorway, thinking. Could he take Anne to the Fairy Glen and persuade the Lady to tell her it was all true? Would the Lady even meet with them if he tried? Was there time enough for him to do this? What about Mila and Jack, Jr.? What would they do with the children while this was happening?

  No, realized at once. Taking her to Wales was only avoiding the inevitable. Sooner or later, he was going to have to face the demon. He made up his mind almost instantly about what he would have to do. It was a compromise, but it was sensible and would remove his family for the danger they would otherwise be i
n. At the same time, it would leave him free to find a way to remove the threat.

  He entered his home and walked back to where Anne was sitting on the living room couch, reading, the baby wrapped in his blanket and asleep on the cushion beside her. Mila must be upstairs, working on Scoot's grave marker.

  His wife looked up as he joined her and recognized at once the determined look on his face. “What?”

  “I’m going to ask you to do something. You’re not going to want to agree, but you have to. I will try to explain what I’m asking for and why it is so important, although you probably won’t be satisfied when I’m finished. But this is one of those times you’re just going to have to trust me. Knowing me the way you do, you will have to accept that I would never ask it of you otherwise.”

  She grinned. “Okay. So, who is this other woman you’re throwing me over for?”

  He sighed. “I wish it were that simple; that would be easier to talk about. I better just tell you.”

  She quit smiling at once and sat back to listen.

  Chapter 10

  Two days later, an hour or so after midday, Jack bundled his little family into their SUV, along with fully packed suitcases, and set off for a limo service located at the edge of town. Under normal circumstances, he would have ordered a pickup at home, but now he was taking no chances. He did not go directly to the service, but drove around a bit, watching for signs of anyone following. When he was convinced no one was, he went straight to the service and unloaded Anne and the children and luggage.

  “I don’t like this idea,” his wife told him while he was driving. “I don't like the idea of taking Mila out of school like this, and I don’t like leaving you.”

  He nodded. “And you don’t like it that I won’t tell you why I’m doing it.”

  “That, too. Although I imagine you have what you believe to be very good reasons. And you will tell me them once this is over. Whenever that is.”

  “My word of honor. Everything. But I cannot emphasize enough how much I need to put some distance between myself and you and the children until then. If I want this to end well, I have to know that I won’t be putting you in danger. I would never ask this of you if I didn’t love you so much and know that you believe I am doing what I think is the best way to protect you.”

  She nodded without speaking. In the back, Mila was singing a pop song she had recently fallen in love with. Better a song than a boy, he thought. Although it wouldn’t be all that long until things went the other way.

  “This isn’t anything illegal?” Anne pressed him. “You’re sure about that?”

  “Very sure. It has nothing to do with legal or illegal. It has to do with right and wrong, in the moral sense. Look, don’t ask me to talk about it now. Please.”

  She was quiet after that, and the remainder of the drive was spent in a cone of silence, save for Mila’s singing.

  At the limo facility, she embraced him, kissed him hard and hugged him to her. Mila was standing by, holding Jack, Jr. in her small, protective arms.

  “Don’t let anything happen to you,” Anne whispered. “Don’t get hurt.” She hugged him harder. “Don’t leave us.”

  He nodded into her shoulder, hugged her back, and broke away, moving quickly to the SUV. “Call me when you get there,” he called back over his shoulder. “Love you. Love you all.”

  He climbed into his car and watched them walk inside. From here, they would go to Portland where they would stay with Anne’s aunt and uncle until he drove down to bring them home. No airports, which he had briefly considered and dismissed. Maybe it was because the demon had appeared at the airport, and even the thought of choosing that form of transportation made him uncomfortable. Better to use something more private and less easily tracked. If his family was away from Seattle, the demon couldn’t get to them as easily and Jack worry less for their safety. Of course, it had meant telling Anne what to do without telling her why, but that was better than telling her nothing.

  It was awkward, and sad. He knew he was betraying her. He knew she loved and trusted him and would never think he was doing something that would hurt her or their children. She did point out that they had always agreed to trust each other and keep no secrets, and he acknowledged this had always been the case. But this one time, he needed her to grant him a dispensation. One time, and one time only.

  It was a fresh betrayal. He was not telling her about the staff or the Lady or his agreement to serve her. He was not revealing the truth about the demon and the threat it presented. Maybe it was because keeping these secrets was by now so common a practice. Maybe it was because he genuinely believed it was safer for her not to know, now especially that she and the children needed his protection. Whatever the case, he had kept the truth to himself and told her something else entirely.

  She had reluctantly agreed, though he could see the skepticism in her eyes. How much he would tell her later, he wasn’t sure. He supposed he would worry about that when the time came. Or if it came. Because he couldn’t ignore the possibility that he might not come out of this in one piece – or even alive. But this was the time the Lady had told him about all those years ago – the one time he would have to serve as her Knight of the Word. He had sworn to do so, and he would not break his word.

  At least then his service would be ended, and his life with Anne and Mila and Jack, Jr. would return to the way it had been before. He had to believe that would happen. He had to believe he could make it happen.

  He drove into his driveway and parked the car. Got out and went inside. The day was already growing hotter, and the air was still and sultry. Not a day for working in the yard. A day for a nap, he decided suddenly. The urge to rest was so strong he could not resist it, though he might have tried harder if he had not welcomed a chance to escape his thoughts. Within seconds he was curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

  In his sleep, he dreamt. A dark, devastatingly real nightmare in which either Anne or Mila had been taken by the demon and imprisoned in the old Winston house, close by Lincoln Park. The dream was fragmented, bits and pieces revealing a future so horrific he could barely stand to watch it unfold. A phone call to Jack from the demon – the details of which were implied rather than elucidated – if Jack failed to come save them. The voice, but little more, of Ineke, who remained a mystery, reminding him of who and what he was. The promise of a confrontation that would strip him of everything he treasured in his life.

  When he woke, the details of the dream faded. Jack was left confused and filled with doubt, and he kept his eyes closed as he tried to recall everything he had been shown. But the specifics eluded him. Who was Ineke? She had featured prominently in the dream, yet he had never heard the name before. Were Anne and Mila in danger – either of them – or was this an empty threat?

  He lay where he was, waiting for his heartbeat to slow and his pulse to steady. He started to drift again, oddly weary. As he did, a by now familiar voice spoke to him, small and light and ethereal. No face showed itself, no surroundings framed the speaker. There was only blackness, and words spoken in a whisper.

  Come to Lincoln Park at sunset tonight.

  Ineke.

  * * * * *

  When he woke again, no more than an hour had passed, but it felt as if he had slept all day. A glance out the window and then at the clock told him it was just past midafternoon. The words spoken in his sleep had stayed with him, fresh and new.

  Come to Lincoln Park at sunset tonight.

  They were real, even if their source remained a mystery. How could he be sure Ineke was not a minion of the demon? Or even the demon, itself? There was every reason to believe this was a trap. Hadn’t the dream warned him of what was waiting? Hadn’t he been told the demon had his wife or daughter? Or both? How was he to know if the second speaker and summons were not the demon’s work, too?

  Yet instinct told him they weren’t, and he knew already that he would do as he had been told.

  The remainder of the day passed in
a blur, a waking dream in which he found things to do and things to avoid without distinguishing between the two. He ate an early dinner to allow time enough to reach the park on foot, and by the end of the daily commute he had set out. It was not that far from his home, and he preferred to leave the car and allow himself the freedom to move as quickly as necessary, should circumstances make it advisable. On foot, you could always run in any direction you chose. That might be a reaction to his already overactive imagination but having met the demon and seen what had been done to Scoot, he was not inclined to take chances.

  As the sun slipped behind the Olympics west, he reached the park and entered through the Beach Drive parking lot. A few cars still sat waiting for their owners, but mostly it was empty. Shadows cast by the great old conifers were already lengthening to overlap the paths that led into the park, eating up the last of the light cast by the vanishing sun. Somewhere distant, he could hear children’s voices, although it was hard to pinpoint their direction. An elderly couple passed him on the trail, nodding silently, but otherwise he saw no one.

  He came here often, usually to think, but sometimes to escape his life, too. Not in the sense that it was too depressing to face, but because the change of scenery always proved refreshing. It was calming in the park, and foreign enough that you could leave your life behind for a bit simply by immersing yourself in a magical country you could not find anywhere else. He had always felt that way about parks – that they were magical. He had always found them soothing, a balm for the troubles, worries, pains and losses that saddled him in his other life, so it was always good to abandon those for a bit before stepping back into the fray. It was his legacy from his youth, the feeling with which he had been left with after coming out of his bout with cancer – and his successful battle with the dragon Desperado – those long-ago childhood rites of passage. Parks were healing, and none more so than those with forests and hills and rivers and that precious, longed for sense of otherworldliness.