Stork (31 page)

Soon, however, there were lanterns lighting the path, and then we saw Wade’s car and Wade himself off to the side of the lane. I still couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling. Had I been asked to describe it, I’d have said we were being watched or followed, but that was unlikely at this point. NORAD probably couldn’t have tracked us up here.

Jack pulled to a stop, cut the engine, and we got out of the car.

Wade walked over to us with a big smile on his face. “You guys are the first to arrive.”

That seemed unlikely. We weren’t the first out of the parking lot.

“Not everybody got the news about the detour,” Wade said. “It’ll take those cars a little longer.”

“Where’s Monique?” I asked.

Wade pointed to a spot in the distance lined with glowing lanterns. “She’s helping set up. We had to go to a plan B on location. My parents were worried the old barn couldn’t handle the crowd. We’ve relocated the party to a nearby field.”

Something about an evening of detours and plan Bs didn’t settle well with my tummy, but as I hadn’t eaten since lunch, I attributed it to nutrient deficiency. And chicken and ribs sounded pretty good right about then.

We followed Wade along the lighted path. The night air crackled with life: rustling trees, the hum of insects, the smell of moss and wet leaves, and shadows of trees pressing in around us. The city girl in me was way out of her element, not to mention that I was wearing a floor-length dress and strappy high-heeled sandals and had nothing more than a shimmery shawl for warmth. I sorely missed my Nike sweatpants, Columbia fleece, and redesigned-by-Jack Timberlands.

The remote location and absence of others started to worry me, but the music I heard carried over the night air was reassurance of a gathering ahead. We finally came to a stand of tall spruce trees. Most grew tightly together, but there was an opening between two central trees over which grew an arch of twisted vines.

“Follow me.” Wade beckoned with a wave of his hand.

Though I took no more than three steps, my heel negotiating nothing more than a two-inch differential, my stomach plunged as if I’d been dropped from the top of the Empire State Building. Cold air rushed past my ears, my eyes watered, and I felt dizzy and nauseous. I tumbled to the hard-packed ground, my hands splayed in front of me. The next thing I knew, Wade was standing over me, tying thick ropes around my legs to match the ones already pinning my arms to my sides. Even though I kicked with every sinew of muscle in my calves and thighs, it took him but a few moments to hobble me.

“Stop it!” I screamed.

Wade laughed, an evil and menacing sound, but he didn’t speak as he cinched a final knot around my legs, bunching my ridiculous tulle skirt and ensnaring me like a fish in a net.

I looked around frantically. We were in a clearing where a ring of four trees had been cut down to form a small, intimate circle of chairs. I gasped. It was so eerily like the scene from my dreams that I could feel my heart rattling within my rib cage. Huge lanterns lit the perimeter and country music filled the air, but this was no party, nothing public, anyway.

I heard a groan from the center of the grassy area. I turned my head to see Jack, also tied with thick ropes, struggling to stand. Wade picked a rock up off the ground and strode over to him. I watched, in horror, as Wade slammed it over Jack’s head. He crumpled to the ground. It took me several seconds to realize that the anguished sound buckling the air around me was my own scream.

In another moment, Wade was standing over me again. He grabbed my legs and dragged me farther into the clearing.

“What are you doing?” I yelled. “Are you crazy? Let go of me!”

Wade dropped my legs roughly to the ground. “I suppose a few explanations are in order.” He stopped, looked to where Jack lay unconscious, and slapped his palms together in a gesture of satisfaction. “You two were such easy marks, but I suppose that’s the nice thing about the truly good; they’re so trusting. No need, even, to use my persuasive powers.”

A part of me knew I needed to calm down, take a moment to figure things out, buy myself — and Jack —some time. Another part, the majority share, was in a full-throttle frenzy and wanted to exercise one of the few things I still had use of — my voice. “What the hell do you want?” I yelled, trying to push to a sitting position, not an easy task without the use of my arms.

Wade strode over to me and kicked me back down to the ground. “Be good,” he said, “and I’ll explain. Be bad, and you’ll both pay.” He took a seat on one of the stumps, as if he had all the time in the world. “Where to even begin?” he said casually. “I suppose the basics — who, what, when, where, and why — are in order. Let’s start with
where
. Do you like the location? We’re not technically on my family’s property anymore, but you two didn’t know any better. It was once a place sacred to the Chippewa. It’s in private hands now, a hunting property; the owners have no idea what they’ve got.”

He leaned back and crossed his legs. “And how was your trip through? I only ask because the first time I stumbled onto this place I ended up flat on my face. You should have seen the two of you.” He tried to keep his tone light, but I could see the tension twisting through his neck and throat. “You’re at a portal. Not accessible to just anyone. Had I tried to take any other two lumps from the dance, they’d have found nothing but more trail and trees on the other side.”

A panic began at the base of my skull, soaking steadily down through my shoulders and along my spine. I stretched to look at Jack. He still wasn’t moving.

“How about
who
next? You know I’ve heard about you Storks for years.”

Oh,
my God
. How much did he know?

“My bird-brained grandmother thought she was preparing my sister for her destiny, so she told us all about the legends, the realms — all of it. And about the good forces as well as the evil.”

With the mention of evil, a shiver racked me.

“And lately,” Wade went on, “it’s just gotten worse. She’s obsessed with the Storks, you in particular. Stupid woman led me straight to one whose death would complete the third and final covenant — the only one Hanna’s death didn’t fulfill.”

I fought for breath. I couldn’t help it. Did Wade just say he killed his sister? And that he sought to fulfill initiation covenants? Where had I heard that before? From Hulda. Realization dawned on me. “You’re a Raven?” I gasped.

“How easily shocked you are. As startled as those old birds were. They questioned me about Hanna’s death, under the guise of pity or concern — for me, of all things. To have witnessed such a horrible thing at such a tender age. In the end they were convinced I knew nothing more of the significance of the summer solstice than I knew of the geological classification of the rock face I pushed Hanna over. Little did they suspect I’d attempted all three covenants at once: starting with first kill on the solstice; next, murder of one related by blood; and third the removal of one born to greatness. My delusional grandmother had been convinced her Hanna was exceptional. She wasn’t — but you are. Aren’t you?”

I was paralyzed with fear.

Wade wagged his finger at me. “Killing you has proved difficult. Why did that bear charge in the wrong direction? Beasts are normally simple to manipulate. And how did you escape that truck when I had the driver so completely under my control? Maybe I’ve become somewhat lazy, wasting my skills to keep Monique under my thumb. Or is it that I’ve encountered an able opponent in you?”

So, Wade had some kind of power. An ability to persuade would explain how he’d managed to kill his sister and get off scot-free. And me, too, nearly. He was likely to finish the job here, especially as he saw me as an “opponent.” It wasn’t easy, but I remained still and let him do the talking. All the while, I kept looking over to where Jack lay unconscious. I was choking with fear for his life as much as my own. How hard had Wade hit him? With the distance separating us, I couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

Wade then stood and walked to the perimeter of the clearing where hay bales were stacked neatly. He picked one up and carried it back to the center, talking as he went: “My grandmother, the family tyrant, was so eager to prepare Hanna for her destiny, she both neglected and underestimated me. From her, I learned of the Ravens and their gift of immortality.”

My peripheral vision became a kaleidoscope of raging fears. A minute ago I thought I’d been dealing with the school jerk and bully. I now realized I was up against something bigger.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice hoarse with terror.

“At first, I was thrilled to think the elusive third covenant was within my reach. To my absolute delight, however, I realized you two offer even more.”

“What are you talking about?” The rope was too tight. My fingers were going numb. I squirmed to readjust by even the smallest of margins.

“Which brings us, quite nicely, to the
why
— you two offer passage to the other realms. Legend has it that in Asgard, at Valhalla — home of the great Odin — warriors are rewarded with great powers.”

“Wade, seriously, untie me so we can talk.” I wrestled again with the ropes. They didn’t budge. “You’re not making any sense. I can’t offer you passage to anywhere.”

“You can’t alone, but the two of you together, now, that’s a different story.” Wade continued to gather bales and bring them to the clearing. It seemed he was shaping some sort of ring out of them, with Jack at its center.

I looked again at Jack; he still wasn’t moving. “Why do you need us?”

He stopped, balancing an armful of hay. “The mysterious Vernal Incantation. My silly grandmother telling me how, for hundreds — if not thousands — of years, magical creatures gathered at portals throughout the world on the day of the spring equinox. The only day each year when the bridge can be lowered.”

“Today’s not the spring equinox. It’s not even the fall equinox.”

Wade dragged another bale into the clearing. He had completed a tight circle around Jack. He then pulled a metal canister of something from his pocket. It was lighter fluid. My hopes plunged.

“No, it’s not, which is why we can skip the
when
. All those idiots, for all that time, were looking for a convergence of time — not of people.” Wade walked in a loop, dousing the hay. “And you are more than a Stork, aren’t you? You are the Robin, the sign of spring.”

I inhaled quickly, audibly. Could Dorit really be so careless with her tongue?

“And Jack, rumor has it, is one of the Winter People.” Wade set the canister on the ground, walked to the edge of the clearing, and returned with a flaming torch. “It’s really quite simple once you contemplate the Vernal Incantation as referring to beings, not dates. I had to congratulate myself on that one: pegging you two as the personifications of spring and winter. So instead of a calendar date, you two conveniently made a Homecoming date. And it’s all foretold in a funny little poem.” Wade held the torch to the side of his face, creating an eerie hollow of incandescence. He spoke in a rhythmic chant:

I knew where Wade had perfected the poet’s cadence he’d skillfully affected at the Asking Fire: at Dorit’s knee, learning the Vernal Incantation.

Wade then touched the torch to one of the hay bales. It caught instantly with a whoosh and crackle, and quickly ignited the entire wheel of straw. “If the
what
isn’t clear to you yet,” he said, his eyes sparking like the flames below him, “your presence at Jack’s death will open the legendary portal — the Bifrost Bridge.”

The fire encircling Jack was growing. Flames, ferried by the night winds, licked high into the air. The heat had to be tangible.

The smoke burned my throat and stung my eyes. The smell made me sick to my stomach. I watched, in both relief and dismay, as Jack stirred, moaning and pulling at his constraints. “Stop it!” I yelled to Wade. “He’ll burn.”

Wade’s nasty laugh again permeated the clearing. “What better way to kill winter than with fire and heat?”

Once more, Jack moved and groaned.

“Jack!” I yelled, though my voice was now choked with tears. “Wake up! Can you hear me?”

Wade approached the growing fire, now dangerously closing in on Jack. With a flick of his wrist, he sprayed more lighter fluid over the blaze. The flames kicked high into the air.

“Getting closer,” Wade said. “As one of the Winter clan, his tolerance of heat is much lower than yours or mine. A degree or two increase in body temperature, while an annoyance to most, is fatal to poor Jack here. The heat from this fire is cooking him alive. Another wonderful tidbit my grandmother shared with me.” Wade paced, watching and rubbing his palms together. “Roasting nicely.”

As if he heard, Jack howled in response.

I momentarily rejoiced that he was coming to, though everything seemed to be building much too quickly to some sort of finale. I had to think fast. What good was soul delivery in a situation like this?
Not much,
I thought with a spill of panic. And birds? Where was my guardian eagle now? I closed my eyes to the immediacy of the situation, not easy with Jack moaning in pain. I suddenly found myself in the clearing of my dreams, the place where my newly discovered gift had felt its most powerful, its most magical. A light breeze lifted tendrils of my hair; sunlight warmed my cheeks. As I gazed in wonder at my mystical woodland clearing, I sensed that I was at the origin of my magic. Two steps took me to one of the stump-carved chairs; I ran my hand over its nubby bark. I approached the earthen bed where the baby had lain. Kneeling to gather a fistful of leaves and soft petals, I was overcome with an extraordinary sense of determination and resolve. I felt my instincts rising and with them the memory of an ancient voice. I opened my mouth, and I cawed. I called to the eagle, the owl, the gull, and even the arrogant peacock. I had no idea what emanated from me, whether the cries, screeches, and squawks were audible in the real world or just my dream one. I feared I was wasting precious time, but I couldn’t stop. What I experienced was visceral and primitive, a distress call predating language itself.