Soul Inheritance (17 page)

Chapter ten

It was barely dawn when Katherine checked out and headed for the interstate. There was no traffic to speak of as she drove on toward Bangor. Somewhere near Newport she heard the catchy little tune of doom on the cell phone, laying somewhere in the floor. She ignored it. A minute after it quit chiming it began to beep, indicating a message. Finally she gave up and pulled off at the next exit. It was nearly nine and she hadn’t eaten breakfast. Her stomach growled as she fished in the floor, shifting aside a sweater, duffle bag, empty paper bags and drink containers, looking for the cell phone.

The message was from Nigel.

“
Just wondering where you’re at. If you’re still mad. I have a really big surprise for you. You need to call me back. Love ya.”

“
Yea, I bet. Running out of money already?” she paused, thought for a moment. “A surprise.” It’d been several days since she heard from him. Just about enough time to put together a plan. “No. Oh, no… Well, I don’t guess it really matters. I won’t have any more problems out of him. They’ll suck him up like an oyster and spit out the shell.” She shivered. Where’d that come from? A family trait emerging? More likely hunger rearing its ugly head. Tossing the phone in the passenger seat she got out and stretched in the Denny’s parking lot. It was fairly busy. She went inside and requested a window seat where she settled down to order a hot breakfast.

‡

Nigel was well on his way to Shin Pond, nearly two and half hours on the road when he stopped. He picked up the cell phone and dialed Katherine’s number, listened to it ring incessantly, then the voice on the other end told him to leave a message after the tone. He grimaced and cussed.

“
Just wondering where you’re at. You need to call back. I love you.” He hit the end button and stuck the phone in the pocket of his shirt as he got out and stretched. The Shoney’s lot was full as he went inside, requesting a booth near the buffet bar and away from the sunlight.

‡

Later that morning Katherine exited to Bangor, searching out the shopping strip that existed in every town. Sure enough Wal-Mart was right at its center. She took a shopping cart and headed for sporting goods first where she picked out a royal blue tent big enough to fit several people comfortably and stand up in. Her other lives had not been wealthy ones and she was now grateful for the initiative she’d learned in past lives to make her own way and money. All those years she’d worked so hard, but never taken the time to spend it. Nigel certainly put a dent in that, but between the flower shops and her father’s print shops – along with the life insurance she had yet to collect – she would never have to worry. Not only would she live comfortably, but the source was residual.

Sleeping bags were widely varied and plentiful. She chose several comfortable ones, planning to layer them on top of the air mattress that was the next selection. A few pans, a sharp knife, bug repellent and other useful items. Once the camping gear was selected she made her way to the grocery isles and bought what she hoped would be good for camping. Miranda’s knowledge was helpful here, since she’d lived so many years in the gypsy camps. Standing in the middle of Wal-Mart Katherine thought for a moment, looked around to see if there was anything she’d forgotten. Deciding there wasn’t she headed for a checkout.

Once she’d packed the cooler with ice and put the refrigerated things inside she got back on the interstate and headed north again. The day was overcast, but not rainy. She wondered absently if there was rain in the forecast at Shin Pond.

Exhilaration began to build as she thought of home, at least as Miranda had known it. After all the years of wandering as a gypsy it was the only home she’d known. She’d loved it there, loved her house, her children, her life and Charles. That was until he told her his secret. Told her what he’d done to ensure what was left of his family made it to safety. He thought it was at least a chance and better than dying at the hands of the Witch Finders. Those who sought to destroy anyone they could for profit, especially Pagans. Thousands of years of heritage would be destroyed for greed. He wouldn’t let that happen. His father had died, leaving him the head of a large family and holder of all the wealth to control them.

Charles did what he felt he must. He made allegiances with forces he wouldn’t have sought out if their own extinction hadn’t been imminent. He turned to a very old Druid who told him often what was coming, offered to show him a way to save the family.

Orin McGrady was his only hope. The chill of forewarning ripped through his lands before sunrise that day. Family members gathered at the main house within the hour. Everyone felt it, knew what it meant. The Witch finders had set their sights on the clan and it was only a matter of time. Charles rode to Orin’s tiny hamlet in the next glen, sat quietly on his horse as he waited for Orin to acknowledge his arrival.

The crotchety old gentleman opened the door slowly, stood holding to it for support.

“
You finally came. I told you it’d come to this, that your days would be numbered. Feel the cold this fine morning eh?”

“
Yes,” Charles said, dismounting and coming to stand before Orin.

“
Well, the time’s indeed come to make a choice. Since you’re here I’ll assume you don’t desire to burn at the stake, or see your women and children tortured and used before you only to be drowned in water tests. You don’t want the stones of your own fields to be used to crush you till you’re dead?”

Charles swallowed at the thought of his dear mother and sisters. The families he’d helped manage into profitable, comfortable lives of honor.

“
No. I don’t wish it for them.”

“
And you’re willing to make allegiances with… well, more powerful, if darker forces, for their lives?” The old man looked up at him in the bright morning light, his eyes gleaming.

“
Yes, I’ll make whatever allegiances I must. What do I need to do?”

“
Come, we’ll talk and I’ll tell you how.”

He led the way into the little cottage. Charles followed, leaving the horse to graze in the yard. The home was scantly furnished, but cozy with quilts on the bed, a bubbling pot of stew on the hearth and several books on a table by a comfortable chair.

“
Sit.” Orin directed.

Charles did as he was told. The old man sat in the chair by the fire.

“
They’ll see you safely to new lands. In exchange they seek your allegiance, and a bond to your family through your natural magic. You’ll live out the peak days of your life reaping the benefits of the power they give you. Once you begin to decline they’ll expect you to become one of them. Oversee future generations’ continuation of the arrangement. The children will be reared in their ways, to serve and protect them. To share power with them. By doing these things the family will remain profitable. A power in the new lands. Keeping the old ways sacred. There’s no defying them. That would mean death and more. Loyalty will be required. You’ll be connected to the dark ones as will all who come after you. Each becomes a part of them to repay the debt. The cycle of life and death’ll end for you. You won’t die to continue other lives, but continue on as one of the dark ones in physical form, managing the power granted to the line. The others will be reborn to the family the power growing over time. Those who try to fight, try to leave, will join you in form. Filling the role of hunters and guardians.”

Charles sat and listened quietly, stolidly. Orin’s face was intense and stern.

“
Do you understand the bargain?”

“
Yes.” He looked at the ancient face across from him. “How do you know this old man?”

“
My ancestors made the arrangement.”

Charles considered this; thought back on his childhood. How the children would peek around Orin’s barn to watch him work magic openly. He remembered his parents, their quiet whispers when they thought the children didn’t hear. They spoke of strong magic, magic acquired through dark channels.

“
And why do you offer it to me?”

“
I was required to continue on as I’m to seek a strong family in… shall we say
dire need
. I am the last. It dies with me, unless I can pass my heritage on.” He grinned, showing a gaping, toothless hole. “My days are done, yours are just begun. It is time for the old to die and the young to carry on this gift to save our people.”

“
What of you? Will you leave with us?”

Orin laughed, a gravely sound. “No. I am very, very old. My time is at hand. I will die tonight, bringing you into this new power.”

“
You would die so that mine may live?”

“
It is what’s expected. It is why I’ve lived so long. Waiting to find another to pass this gift to,  bring my masters so they may continue helping our kind out race the extinction visited upon us. We must survive.”

Charles nodded gravely. “What must I do?”

“
Come,” Orin leaned forward, got up feebly from the chair. He took a glowing coal from the edge of the fireplace. It smoked in his hand, yet he didn’t seem to notice. He drew a half circle in front of the fireplace with the charred edge. Inside the half circle he drew several rune symbols. One of protection, one of power and several that Charles didn’t recognize despite his vast knowledge.

“
Kneel.” One crooked finger pointed to the center.

Getting to his feet Charles moved to the indicated spot. There he knelt while Orin drew a rough symbol of one half of the family crest in front of him. Then he drew the other half representative of the dark ones, joining the two. He moved to stand between Charles and the fire, his back to him.

Spreading his arms wide and standing tall and straight despite his advanced years he began to speak in a tongue Charles recognized as ancient Latin mixed with Galic. He spoke quickly and feverishly until there was no way to keep track of what he said. All he knew was the man asked the dark ones for a transfer of heritage, to combine their blood and let the power pass on so they would not die in the minds of men who no longer remembered their ways. No longer respected what they were capable of providing.

A strange light emanated from the flames. It stretched outward, licking toward the silhouette in front of Charles. They formed, flickering and twisting until another being, built of fire and flame stood in front of them both. It reached into Orin and he turned, facing Charles. His eyes glowed a brilliant green and then blue as the heat from the flames increased. He began to change, to shift, to form into something else.

The rickety old man was now tall and slender. His skin turned to paper, burned away, curling back from a tough green skin beneath. His hair fell away, replaced only by a shiny surface of the same hide. Both ears fell to the floor, leaving behind only holes with smooth rounded edges. The flames receded back into the fireplace, leaving a slick, muscular form in its wake.

Charles sat on his knees, unable to get to his feet, much less run. He was shocked, but also fascinated by the strong, stern being that was created before his very eyes. Never had he seen such power. It was not appalling or grotesque, but held his fascination.

The figure moved forward, reached out with a steaming hand and touched his chest. The pain was intense as the brand burned deep. Still he did not move. He thought instead of his mother, sisters, brothers and all the others this night would save from brutal extinction. The line of ancestors that had come before and the line of descendants that would come after.

‡

The rider came swiftly through the darkness, hoof beats his only herald. The lantern he carried moved swiftly through the trees like the ghost lights of legend. Charles threw on his coat – he’d not dressed for bed, but stood waiting by the window - and rushed downstairs.

Jessie McDougal rode madly to the big stone house, pulled his horse up short just in front of the door. Moving forward Charles took the horse’s reins as the rider jumped to the ground, forgoing the assistance of stirrups.

“
Charles, you have to get everyone up, now. You have to leave here.” He grabbed Charles by the arm in desperation. “They come. They’re heading this way right now, not two hours ride.”

Charles didn’t have to ask who rode their way, or what they wanted.

“
Ride to the other houses, let them all know to meet me at the edge of the creek now. Leave everything behind; take only the clothes they can carry. Hurry.” He helped hoist Jessie back into the saddle. “Tell any who want to run to meet us at the docks, but be careful who you choose to tell. Go.” He rushed into the house as Jessie sped away at a gallop.

The others had been prepared. As he rode back home that day he’d gathered the head of each household and held a meeting in the large barn that adjoined all their properties. The agreement had been reached.  They must leave for the new world. A rider was dispatched to the cove to find a ship. Charles knew it would be waiting, though not exactly how. It just would be and they would make it across the ocean to safety. Everyone would have what they could carry waiting. Jewels and gold were split among them into small amounts that were easy to transport. Each family was equipped with enough to survive and pay passage should they become separated. The group gathered at the creek, everyone was accounted for before they headed for the coast.