Canyons Of Night (16 page)

“Why?”

“They were afraid that working with some of the seriously powerful antiquities in museum collections would cause me to have more panic attacks.” She paused. “Me being so damn delicate and all.”

There was a long silence before Slade finally spoke.

“You’re not the only one who got slapped with that label,” he said. “I did, too.”

“What?”
Startled, she glanced at him. “Are you serious? There’s nothing delicate about you.”

“Cut me some slack here.” He managed to sound hurt. “I may be a cop but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”

She laughed. “You know what I mean. You were an
FBPI
agent and you worked for that special Office and now you’re a police chief investigating a murder by paranormal means. Somehow I just can’t see anyone labeling you as delicate.”

“You’d be surprised.”

The silence that fell between them was longer this time. Charlotte sensed that Slade regretted having gone down this particular conversational path. She pulled up the collar of her jacket and waited to see if he would tell her the rest of the story.

The night was cool but not cold. She was dressed for the trip into the forbidden zone in jeans, a sweater, and a jacket. She listened to the sounds of the gathering night. Small creatures chirped in the grass. A light breeze sighed through the branches and boughs and rustled leaves. Birds called in the trees.

Slade did not speak.

In the end she couldn’t stand not knowing.

“Okay, okay, who called you delicate?” she asked.

At first she thought he was not going to answer the question. But he must have concluded that, since he had brought up the subject and since she had answered his questions, he owed her some sort of response.

“A team of doctors and para-shrinks at a clinic,” he said.

“Oh,
geez
.” She stopped, stunned, and stared at him, trying to read his profile in the low light. “Talk about a career-killer for someone in your line. I don’t believe it. You have got to be kidding.”

“No.” Slade halted. He did not turn to face her. Instead he gazed steadily ahead at the trees that marked the boundary of the Preserve. “Although to be fair, I don’t think
delicate
was the exact word that was used in the file. The terms were
unstable
and
deteriorating
and a few others in the same vein. But the result was the same. Everyone concluded that I was no longer fit for the kind of work that I do. That I did. The official story is that I’m taking time off until my senses heal.”

“But?”

“But the para-shrinks and the doctors don’t think there’s a chance in hell that I’ll ever regain the full use of my talent. In fact, things are expected to get worse.”

“What happened?”

“Long story,” Slade said.

She knew from his tone that he was not in the mood to tell her the rest. Not yet.

“Right,” she said. “But I have to tell you, you are not psychically delicate.”

“Yeah? And just how would you know that?”

“Beats me. It’s part of what I do. I’ve seen your rainbow when you’re partially jacked. Everything looked clear, strong, and stable. If your senses were deteriorating, that fact would be reflected in the primary ultralight colors that I saw.”

“I thought you said I looked conflicted.”

“I did sense that, but the rainbow itself was strong.”

“I’m sure the para-shrinks would be interested to know that an antiques dealer has declared me not delicate.”

The icy edge on the words was enough to silence her.

“Not much farther now.” Slade started walking again. He aimed the narrow beam of the flashlight at the ground in front of her. “You’ll feel the fence soon.”

Time to shut up about his aura rainbow, she thought. He had a right to his secrets.

The first shiver of dark, ominous energy whispered across her senses.
Like a warning shot over the bow,
she thought. They were moving through the trees now. The woods seemed to close in more tightly around them and the atmosphere darkened.

“You’re right,” she said. “The fence energy feels different tonight. It’s much stronger.”

“It gets worse.”

“Why do I suddenly know how Little Amber Riding Hood felt when she started out to Grandmother’s house?” she said. “Or maybe I’m thinking of Hansel and Gretel.”

“There was a reason why forests have always been considered dangerous places in fairy tales,” Slade said. “And this particular forest has never been explored. Add in the nexus factor and whatever the hell that fence is supposed to be protecting, and you’re dealing with a lot of unknowns here.”

The flickers of energy intensified, jangling her nerves. It was like brushing against a lot of small, live wires. She flinched and gritted her teeth against a near-painful jolt.

“Lot of hot psi, too,” she gasped.

“For the next few yards we’ll be walking through a heavy psi-storm. My advice is to run a little hot until we’re through the force field. That seems to ward off the worst of the effects, at least for me. Speak up if you want to turn back.”

“I will not be turning back,” she said briskly.

“Didn’t think so.”

“But it is definitely hotter than it was fifteen years ago.”

“Yes.”

Cautiously she elevated her senses. The downside was that she could now perceive the psychic electricity that flashed and crackled in the atmosphere. She understood why the Preserve had a reputation for being haunted. Anyone who got this far through the barrier could be excused for believing that there were howling, wailing apparitions everywhere. The sensations were disturbing and oppressive and flat-out scary.

The upside of walking with her senses slightly heightened was that Slade was right. Running a little jacked dampened some of the terrible sense of dread that threatened to overwhelm her.

Slade took her hand and squeezed it tightly. The psi-fire faded even more with the physical contact. She realized that he was using some of his energy field to shield her.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

The psychic noise caused by the screaming phantoms was more tolerable now.

“Not much farther.” Slade gripped her hand more firmly. “There’s Rex.”

She looked down and saw Rex trotting calmly through the energy field, evening clutch gripped in one paw. All four eyes were open and he was half-sleeked but there was no indication that he was experiencing any discomfort.

“The force field is probably tuned only to human psi frequencies,” Charlotte observed. “Then again, what else could they be tuned to? No one has ever figured out how to measure animal psi.”

They moved out of the trees and into a small meadow. The disturbing energy field winked out with disconcerting suddenness. The psychic scream inside her head fell silent. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least the experience hadn’t triggered a panic attack, she thought.

“We’re in,” Slade said. He stopped and let go of her hand.

She gazed at the incredible scene around her with a sense of awe and wonder. “This is absolutely amazing. You’re right. It’s so much stronger and more spectacular than it was fifteen years ago. It’s still an enchanted fairyland but it’s a much brighter version of the original. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

“There are some places in the Underworld that rival this but none that I know of aboveground,” Slade said.

“You know what?” she said softly. “This reminds me of some of Jasper Gilbert’s paintings.”

“I had the same thought.”

“Think he’s been in here?”

“He and Kane are both retired ghost hunters, strong ones, I think. That means they have a talent for working amber and alien psi. It’s possible that is enough to get them through the fence.”

The moonlit meadow and the small pond looked as if they had been painted with a brush dipped in silver light. The soft radiance that illuminated the landscape was clearly paranormal in nature. The ultralight given off by the grass and other foliage was not the only discernible energy. Charlotte realized she felt warmer now. It was as if someone had switched on the heat.

“The bio-phosphorescent effect isn’t so obvious during the day,” Slade said. “The visible radiation from the sun tends to overwhelm it. But at night the paranormal energy really pops if you’ve got enough talent to see at least partway into the ultralight end of the spectrum.”

“I can’t believe the Arcane researchers haven’t set up a lab here,” she said.

“As far as I can tell, Arcane doesn’t even know this place exists,” Slade said. “Neither do any of the other big labs. The Rainshadow Foundation has done a very good job of keeping the Preserve secret. The question is, why?”

“I wonder what those who can’t see far into the paranormal spectrum perceive when they look at scenes like this inside the Preserve.”

“According to the few reports that exist from the old days, those with limited psychic senses who managed to get in and back out thought they were seeing ghosts. Phantoms and spirits. Flickering shadows at the edge of their vision.”

“What about those canyons of night that you mentioned?”

“I haven’t found any descriptions of them in the old records and, as I told you, I didn’t come across any fifteen years ago, either. I’m sure they’re new. Want to see one?”

“Yes.”

“There’s one not far from here.”

They set off across the meadow. Charlotte kept her senses heightened, entranced and fascinated by iridescent wildflowers and grass that flashed with eerie silver luminescence. Banks of radiant ferns surrounded a pond that gleamed obsidian dark.

It wasn’t just the plant life that radiated bio-psi. Charlotte heard a small lizard skittering away into the foliage and caught a glimpse of a jeweled tail. Winged insects flitted and danced on the night air like so many sparkling fairy-sized flashlights.

They circled around the pond. Charlotte saw that the surface was darkly, ominously luminous.

“What in the world?” she whispered.

“I have no idea,” Slade said. “What’s more, I don’t think it would be a good idea to put on a dive suit to find out why the pond seems to be glowing.”

She shuddered. “I agree.”

When they reached the trees Slade took Charlotte’s hand again.

“The entrance to the canyon is just inside the tree line,” he said. “You probably won’t be able to see a thing. Don’t worry, I can. I won’t let you get lost.”

They moved into the trees. The darkness closed in abruptly. Between one step and the next all of the enchanting fairy lights of the meadow winked out, plunging Charlotte into the deepest, densest night she had ever known. The first whispers of panic flickered through her. Instinctively she went into deep-breathing mode. Slade’s hand tightened on hers. She sensed his silent inquiry.

“I’m okay,” she said.

Cautiously she pushed her talent a little higher. Two apparitions moved in the absolute darkness. She realized she was looking at Slade and Rex. A fierce rainbow formed around one of the shadows. Slade, she thought. She would know him even in the darkest place in the universe.

“I understand what you mean by canyons of endless night,” she said.

“Can you see anything at all?” he asked.

“I can definitely sense the energy here. It’s dark and it’s scary. I can see your rainbow quite clearly. But you and Rex are just shadows within shadows.”

“I think that’s more than most people, even those with talent, could see. There’s a lot of energy in the vicinity but most of the currents are coming from the farthest end of the spectrum, the dark ultralight end.”

“What do you perceive?” she asked.

“Infinite night. Like something out of a nightmare.”

“What do you suppose is generating the heavy ultralight?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re worried?”

“Power in large quantities is always a concern, and whatever is going on here involves a lot of energy. The changes inside the Preserve raise questions.”

She smiled. “And you like answers.”

“Yes.”

“You said yourself that the Preserve has always been a dangerous place.”

“True.” He guided her back out of the dense night to the edge of the glowing meadow. “But I think it’s becoming more so. The Foundation was right to strengthen the fence but I don’t think it’s going to be enough.”

“Doesn’t seem to be working too well. We got in.”

“If we got in, other strong talents can make it, too. But I doubt if most of them will have the ability to navigate it.
GPS
and compasses don’t work.”

“What about the locator devices that ghost hunters use in the Underworld?”

“I tried one. It doesn’t work, either. They’re designed to handle environments that generate a lot of alien psi. This is different. It’s nexus energy. And something else. I think.”

“You aren’t sure?”

“I’m certain that the nexus forces are involved but they may simply be enhancing whatever is really going on here,” he said.

“You’re not having any problem staying oriented.”

“I told you, something about my version of hunter-talent allows me to navigate the Preserve.”

“Well, I’m thoroughly lost at the moment,” she said. “If you weren’t with me I could probably make it across the meadow, but once inside the trees I’d be completely disoriented again. I don’t even want to think about what it would be like to blunder into one of those night canyons. A person could wander in circles forever.”

He led her back out of the trees into the twinkling fairyland meadow. She looked around, searching for a small scruffy shadow carrying a clutch. She didn’t see one.

“Where’s Rex?” she asked.

“Probably got bored and decided to go hunting. I told you he disappears a lot at night. It was the same way back in Resonance City. There he used to go down into the Underworld to meet his buddies.”

“Perhaps there are other dust bunnies here in the Preserve. Maybe he’s hoping to meet a girlfriend.” She thought about the clutch purse. “Or a boyfriend.”

“There’s enough uncharted territory here in the Preserve to conceal a whole herd of dust bunnies.”

Charlotte stopped to drink in the luminous landscape. “This place really is extraordinary. Make my night, lie to me and tell me that you never brought any other girl here fifteen years ago.”