The War of Odds (8 page)

Well wishes and cries of farewell followed Sara and her small entourage as they left the sprite’s village and made their way through the woods. It was darker now, as if dusk had finally made an appearance in the fae land as well as her own. Sara kept one eye on the
 
path as she followed Hissaphat through the trees and one eye on the encroaching forest. She thought she saw tall shadowy shapes darting here and there, slipping behind tree trunks and kneeling behind large boulders.

It did not help that the cat was growling continuously and Muriel was holding her stick up high, as if it was a sword, instead of just a gnarled branch. Finally, they came to the place where their worlds met and, just like that, she was standing alone by the side of the road. Alone, that is, except for the cat and the little woodpecker, who flew down out a tree branch and landed on the ground by Hissaphat. It gazed at her with one eye, and said, “Caw?”

“She said she would think about it, Ms. Rattle,” Hiss drawled, rolling his large yellow eyes in disgust. Staring up at her, the cat continued, “We will go our separate ways now, human witch. My companions and I will be watching you, though. The dark forces dwell here as well as in the world of the fae. This is the one thing I fear you do not understand. The earthquake was a magical occurrence… not natural and my whiskers sense more mischief is yet to come. Search your heart, girl. Muriel would never have sought your help if the situation was not dire.”

With those words, the cat walked away into the night. Looking down the road, Sara wondered what time it was, and if her dad was worried. She could just make out the warm glow of the porch light on her house and she started jogging up the road. She saw headlights approaching and watched as her father’s Jeep pulled into the driveway.

“Hey, you’re home early,” Thomas smiled as he grabbed his briefcase and climbed out of the vehicle.

“I am?” Sara squeaked, and asked, “What time is it?”

Thomas glanced at his wristwatch and said, “About 9:30. I thought you said the café stayed open until 11:00?”

Sara was shocked. She thought that many hours had passed while she walked in the fairy realm, but only a few minutes had transpired here in her world. She nodded, and tried to act normal. “Yeah, it does normally, but they closed early because… well, because of everything that happened today.”

Her father lightly touched the small bandage on her forehead, “How are you doing, honey?”

“I’m fine, Dad. No harm done.” Thomas and Sara walked into their new home, chatting about their individual experiences during the earthquake, as Hissaphat and two of his cousins watched from a nearby field.

*

The next morning, Sara called both Chloe and Nate. She invited them to brunch at the cafe, her treat, knowing that she wanted much more from them than a lunch date. She had tossed and turned all night long, thinking about what happened and whom she had met. She could not help but wonder if the whole experience was some sort of dream, or a psychotic episode.

Every time she grew convinced that her meeting with the fae was just a side effect of a blow to the head by the display case, though, she pulled out the Quempel feather. She gazed at it, stroked it, and understood that the fae and the talking cat were very real and that they desperately needed her help.

She was tired, but Sara scurried around the house cleaning and making sure that everything was in perfect order. She made her father a nice stew and set a bowl and some crackers on the table for him to find. She hoped that the nymph was not lying when she said that the fae could manipulate time. She hated to think of her dad’s heartache if his daughter disappeared… forever. Finally, she filled her backpack with clothes and toiletries.

She had made up her mind to help. She remembered now how it felt to heal someone… the feelings of peace and love that filled her up and ran out of her fingertips into Nate’s body when he was hurt and needed help. She understood that, for some reason, she would only be happy… fulfilled as a human being, when she did what she was meant to do; be a healer. Even her mom had sensed that was Sara’s destiny.

Finished finally, Sara looked around at her home and prayed she would live to see it, and her father, again. She shouldered her pack and started walking down the road toward town. She thought she saw Hiss winding his way through the weeds and wondered if he understood her intentions. His scorn at her hesitation hurt her feelings, and she hoped he noticed when she set her pack down in the tall bushes by the rendezvous site.

She gazed around trying to find the ornery feline, but he was nowhere in sight. Actually, it was so silent in the forest that Sara felt a chill of alarm. No birds chirped in the trees overhead, and no squirrel or chipmunk wrestled in the underbrush. It was as if the forest was holding its breath in apprehension. Sara shuddered… the chill was physical as well as emotional now, as the sun hid its face in the clouds.

Then Sara heard the sound of a car’s engine coming up the road behind her. Turning around, she saw a large, black SUV idling in the road about thirty feet away from where she stood. It was a Cadillac Escalade, its shiny chrome grill and jeweled emblem glittering in the gloom.

Suddenly, Sara felt sick to her stomach. She staggered as nausea roiled through her belly and her head spun. Then she heard a cat hiss from across the road. “Sara, keep walking. Those are witches… human witches, like you. Unlike you, however, they have embraced the darkness. Now go!” Hissaphat screeched.

Sara turned around and walked swiftly toward town as the big black car followed in her wake. Her heart raced with dread and the certain knowledge that whoever sat in the darkened interior of that vehicle meant her harm. She thought she heard someone whispering in her ear. Hiss cried, “Do not listen to them, Sara! Keep walking.”

 
The closest house was only about thirty feet away- surely, those people… those witches would not try anything in broad daylight… or would they? Her back crawled in clammy anticipation. She noticed that Hissaphat wasn’t alone. There were many cats with him today. They surrounded her and kept pace with her as she entered the town proper.

There were Tabby cats, Manx, black cats and yellow, Siamese cats, and Persians, young and old, groomed and scruffy. They marched to either side of her as Hissaphat glared and growled at the SUV with the blacked-out windows.

Sara stopped finally, and gulped. She would rather face her assailants than let them sneak up behind her. She turned to face them and, for a moment, Sara and the people inside the car faced each other down. Then the vehicle accelerated, motoring past her and down the road. Its taillights illuminated the snowflakes that skittered through the morning air like furtive spirits. Sara stared up into the sky in shock.

It’s May 15
^th
, for Pete’s sake!
Sara thought, shivering. Looking about, she saw that all of the cats, including Hiss, were gone now. She felt much better physically as well. The horrible nausea had left, along with the black car. Sara wondered if the people inside had cast a spell on her, or if being a witch enabled her to sense the darkness in other witches, like a hound can smell fear.

Either way she was safe, for now, and it was freezing. Sara hugged herself for warmth and hurried down the sidewalk to the café, which was about three blocks away. A car full of kids sped by, and someone hollered, “Hey Sara, it’s snowing!”

As if, I don’t know that!
Sarah smiled and waved, blowing snow off her nose. Staring ahead, she saw that Chloe and Nate were standing in front of the restaurant, waiting for her to show up. She picked up the pace and then she was with her fiends as they laughed and stamped their feet against the cold air.

“Come on, Sara; let’s get inside where it’s warm!” Nate grabbed her hand and dragged her inside the double doors as Chloe complained, “What took you so long, slowpoke?”

It was about 1:30 in the afternoon, and the lunch crowd had left, leaving plenty of booths empty. Sara led her friends toward the back, away from the other customers. The owner’s wife, Cindy, brought them menus and asked for their drink orders when they sat down. While her new friends ordered and studied the menus, Sara watched their faces and wondered if she was doing the right thing.

The fae wanted her to bring a champion, a human companion, along on the mission. She thought about asking her dad to come but he could not afford to take any time away from work. In addition, Sara did not think that Thomas was mentally stable enough to accept the fae and their world. He had only just stopped drinking alcohol, after all, and she worried that he would be too freaked out and concerned over her welfare to do what needed to be done to stop the darkness.

She didn’t know anyone else except for a few friends in Denver. They were so spaced out, though; Sara knew that even if they could make their way here overnight, they would be little, if any, help at all. Was it fair of her to drag these two wonderful young people into such a dangerous situation? She knew, for a fact, that her safety was not guaranteed, why would theirs be? They could be killed!

The worry on her face must have been apparent, because Nate stopped talking with Chloe and said, “Sara, what’s wrong?”

Sara blushed. Nate was so gorgeous and so sweet there was no way she could bring herself to speak about the strange situation she found herself in. She opened her mouth to say that nothing was wrong, nothing at all, when her stomach did another slow flip. “Ugh,” she uttered, as the little bell above the door jingled and three women walked in the door.

All three of them stopped in the waiting area and studied Sara and her friends. One was elderly, with long gray hair plaited into a braid and coiled at the base of her neck. She might have been pretty once but now her gray eyes were glacial and seemed to pierce Sara’s heart like needles.

The other two women were younger and quite beautiful. One had long black hair and green eyes, and the other was as fair as sunlight, with golden eyes and tawny freckles. Both of them, however, were encased in shadows that pulsed sickeningly with murky green light. Sara’s soul shrank from them in fear and revulsion.

She knew, instinctively, that she was in mortal danger. Turning to her two new friends, Sara said, “You guys, this is going to sound really weird, I know, but I have to leave. I’m afraid to go by myself, though. Will you come with me?”

Both Nate and Chloe stared at her face for a moment and then stood up. Nate threw a few dollars on the table, and called out to Cindy, “Something’s come up, Cindy. We’ve got to go. See you in a couple of days”

“Okay, Nate,” she replied.
 
“Remember, we need you to come in at 2:00, rather than 4:00 on Thursday, okay?”

“Okay, see you then… Bye!” Nate took Sara’s hand and the teenagers walked out the door as the witches watched.

Chapter 9

Sara and her friends walked quickly to Chloe’s house and locked the doors once they were inside. Sara was trembling with fear. Twice she had looked over her shoulder as they left the restaurant but as far as she could tell, the witches stayed put.

Now, Nate and Chloe were looking at her with doubt, as if they really DID think she was nuts. Knowing that she had some explaining to do, Sara took a deep breath and told her new friends what had happened last night after she left the café to go home, and what happened this morning as she walked into town. She told the story in fits and starts, describing as accurately as she know how what the fae were like, what they asked of her, and what she needed to do.

She watched her friend’s faces closely to see if one of them might jump up and call the funny farm folks, with their strait jackets to come and haul her away. Surprisingly, though, both of them seemed open to what she said. Chloe let Sara tell her story and after the girl was finished, she said, “I have a weird story to tell, too.”

Her pale cheeks were red as she began speaking, “My mom was really sick with the flu when she told me this story, so I figured she was just having a…you know, a fever dream, or something. She thought she was going to die, I think. She was really sick, with the Swine flu and had a 104 degree temperature.”

Chloe stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “Anyway, she said that my dad was an elf.” She stared at Sara and Nate, measuring their reaction, but the two teenagers just shrugged and told her to continue her story.