Shaxoa's Gift (18 page)

My eyes searched for the weakest spot and I
lunged forward. The beast met my attack, but my quick thrust threw
it to the side easily. Running through the hole the absent creature
had created, I sprinted away from the pack. Behind me I could hear
them snarling in anger and racing to catch up to me. My stride
lengthened, pulling me further out of their grip.

I ran until my heart seemed ready to burst,
and kept running even still. The forest stretched on forever, and I
wondered where I was running to. Without warning, my feet left the
mossy forest floor and stepped onto baking sheets of pale sand. The
sudden change in scenery was accompanied by a wave of roiling heat.
I stumbled as I lost my footing, falling into the burning sand.

Hissing with pain, I scrambled back to my
feet. I dusted my hands on my pants and heard the familiar growling
of the dark creatures surround me again. I looked up knowing what I
would find. The man stood above me on a sandy plateau. He looked
like neither of the human forms the Matwau had previously sported,
but the vile anger and overwhelming presence of evil named him for
what he was.

The woman in his grasp stood defiantly next
to her captor. Her face was hard, but beautiful. Even in this
unreal plane, I could feel the sense of familiarity that radiated
from her. I had no doubt that she was my Twin Soul. Our eyes met
briefly. She watched me curiously from behind her terrified
eyes.

I expected the Matwau to challenge me, to say
something to me, but the only sound was his crazed laughter. I was
surveying the scene he had created. The woman’s face grimaced with
hatred. Twisting her arms painfully, the Matwau only increased its
wicked laughter. The woman shrieked and crumpled to her knees.

“At last we meet again, but for the final
time,” the Matwau said. His face was full of confidence and pride.
“I have waited for you for a long time, Uriah. For centuries I have
feared your birth. Now that you stand before me, I can laugh with
pity for your fate.”

“I have come to fulfill my purpose, Matwau,”
I said. I had no idea where the words were coming from.

“As have I,” he sneered, “but only one of us
will be successful.”

“It will not be you,” I said. I felt my fist
tighten, my body tense in anticipation of the battle. My legs moved
independent of thought, carrying me through the circle of creatures
that had once again surrounded me in a mad rush to protect the
woman.

My motion stopped, forced back as if hit head
on. The scene fragmented and dissolved instantly. Suddenly, I was
in control of my body again. Lifting my hands, I stared at them,
moving each finger individually. A breath, released quickly,
brought my eyes up. I was relieved to find Kaya looking at me
again.

Looking as shocked as I felt, she simply
stared, her mouth open, her eyes wide. Shaking herself, Kaya
smoothed her features quickly. “Well that was certainly
enlightening,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess.” Actually, all it had done
was raise more questions for me. “What did he mean ‘he’d been
waiting centuries for my birth?’” I asked Kaya.

“And why did you believe it was your purpose
to fight the Matwau?” Kaya asked in return. Her pencil was
scribbling furiously as she spoke.

“Don’t ask me. I’d prefer to steer clear of
that thing for the rest of my life if I could,” I said.

“I seriously doubt you’ll be able to do
that.” She halted in her writing, lowering the notepad and pencil
to her lap. “What did you learn that you didn’t already know?”

Back to work, I thought wearily. “I could
hear the creatures’ thoughts, but I have never been able to do that
with the Matwau.”

“That is surprising,” Kaya said, “you being
able to hear the creatures’ thoughts, I mean. Not hearing the
Matwau’s thought is expected.”

Obviously. I would have mentioned being able
to hear the Matwau’s thoughts already if I had been able to do
so.

Talon’s thoughts filtered into mine. “The
creatures were once regular animals before they were twisted into
their current forms. Animals are very familiar with these
creatures. Their origin is most likely why you can hear them,”
Talon said. “That will certainly help you.”

“Talon says that the Matwau's creatures were
once normal animals, and that’s why I could hear their thoughts,” I
explained to Kaya.

“Interesting,” she said. Her pencil was back
to work. “What else?”

“The time of the year, it was the end of
summer,” I said.

“So, right now,” Kaya said.

I was scared to admit she was right, but I
couldn’t deny the obvious answer. “Yes.”

“The dream felt very imminent. I don’t think
it will be long before you find yourself in this situation.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I had felt the
same urgency during the vision.

“The Matwau believes he has been waiting for
you, for centuries he said,” Kaya repeated. “I’ll have to search my
books for anything about that. I can’t recall any prophecies about
such a thing offhand. It’s interesting that you seemed to agree
with him. You said that you were there to fulfill your purpose. Do
you have any insight about that?”

“None at all,” I admitted. Glancing down at
Talon, who I knew was not sleeping despite his appearance, I probed
him for input. I knew he had seen everything I had just seen.

Talon merely shrugged. “I already told you
that you were meant for a higher purpose. I sensed that about you
the first day we met. I have no knowledge about human
prophecies.”

“I’m really getting sick of hearing about me
being more than I am, or whatever people want to call it,” I said
to both Kaya and Talon. Talon ignored me. He knew he was right.
“I’m just a rancher.”

“What do you mean?” Kaya asked.

Sighing deeply, I looked at Kaya. Hadn’t I
already told her all of this? Actually, I couldn’t remember whether
I had or not. Everything seemed too jumbled together to remember
clearly. “Quaile told me she knew there was something important
about me, that there is more to me than I ever could have imagined.
Claire’s dad has said similar, weird things to me. When I met
Talon, he basically said the same thing, although for him it was
something he felt along with the compulsion to protect me. The
Matwau has all but said the same thing as well.”

Kaya nodded thoughtfully.

“I just don’t understand any of it,” I
complained. “I am a rancher. All I have ever wanted out of life is
to marry Claire and raise a family with her. Why is that such a
difficult thing?”

Finally, Kaya looked up from her notes.
“Uriah, I think we can both agree that you are not ‘just a rancher’
any more than Talon is ‘just a cat,’” she said. “This has given me
a lot to think about. There must be something in the histories that
will explain what’s happening to you. Even with the Elders’ effort
to hide the Matwau’s existence, they would have had to write down a
prophecy like this somewhere. It will take some digging, that’s
all.”

“Well, we should get started then,” I said.
My body was aching for rest, but I dreaded falling asleep.

“Uriah, you should go ahead and get to bed. I
know you’re exhausted still,” Kaya said.

“And face more dreams? I’d rather help you
search through books all night.” Even the chance to dream about
Claire was tainted. I couldn’t bear to fall asleep knowing that she
was alone in my bed at the same time. Dreams of Claire would only
remind me of what I could not have.

“Alright,” Kaya said standing up, “my library
is in the spare bedroom. We’ll start there.”

I sighed. Another starting. When would I find
the end?

17:
Understanding

Uriah’s phone call had left me bewildered.
Why was he being so secretive about where he was and what he was
doing? I asked Lina if he had said anything to her about where he
was, but she could only shake her head sadly. She wanted to know as
badly as I did.

A few more days, he had said. I only had to
last a few more days. I could do that. As soon as the high of
talking to Uriah again had begun to fade, Daniel swept back into my
mind. His face, filled with undeserving love, hovered in my mind,
though I tried desperately to push it away. The desire to make
contact with him again was staggering. I found myself sitting alone
in the kitchen, clutching the arms of my chair in desperation
before Sophia walked up to me and asked if I was alright.

Her warm touch rescued me. I was quick to
reassure her that I was fine. She looked skeptical, but let the
matter drop. “Did Cole make it back yet?” I asked.

“I haven’t heard. Why don’t you call your mom
and check with her?” Sophia said.

Reaching for the phone, I quickly dialed my
own phone number. The phone rang only twice before being picked up.
“Brant residence, this is Cole.”

I was instantly irritated that no one had
bothered to call and let me know Cole was already back. “When did
you get back?” I asked.

“Just now,” Cole said. “What put you in such
a bad mood?”

I wasn’t about to respond to that.

“Uh, never mind,” Cole said quickly. “You
want to talk to Mom?”

“Actually, I was calling to see if you were
home yet,” I said.

“Well, I am,” he said in his big brother
tone. “Why aren’t you here?”

“I’m not coming home for a while,” I
said.

“Oh. Yeah okay, I can understand that,” Cole
said. “Is Uriah back yet?”

“No,” I said, trying to keep the fear from my
voice, “but he called a little while ago. He should be home in a
few days, hopefully.”

“Did he say where he was?” Cole asked.

“No.” I took a deep breath. I wanted answers,
but Quaile refused to help me and no one else was interested in
filling me in either. Quaile wouldn’t answer my calls, my dad flat
out refused, and Lina pretended she had no idea what I was talking
about. Cole may not be able to explain everything, but at least he
could tell me what happened on the drive to find Daniel and bring
him back to San Juan. “Would you mind picking me up, maybe driving
out to the bluffs with me for a while?”

I knew he must have been tired. He had made
two trips to Arizona in the past three days. The breath I was
holding in finally released when Cole spoke.

“Yeah, sure, Claire, I’ll be right over.”

Hanging up the phone, I wandered into Uriah’s
bedroom. I was still wearing his shirt, but I needed something
more. I had thought that my inner battle would get easier with
time, but so far it had only gotten worse. Every time I fought
against the bond, it fought back all the harder, shoving Daniel
into my mind every time my concentration slipped.

Searching Uriah’s desk, I saw the CDs again.
I took down the first album and placed it in Uriah’s stereo. The
music filled the room, blocking out noise and thoughts alike. Every
note reminded me of Uriah, but I couldn’t carry the song with me
everywhere. Turning away from the desk, I kept looking.

Halfway through my sweep of his room, I
noticed a small lacquered box on his window sill. The drawn
curtains hid all but a corner of it. I crawled across the bed to
the window and gently lifted the box. The dark wood was polished
and smooth, even where the lighter inlaid wood pattern on the top
met the deeper shade.

The box was beautiful. I knew that Uriah’s
father had done some woodworking in his spare time, and I wondered
if he had made the box. Lifting the lid, I had the fleeting feeling
that I should not be digging through Uriah’s private things, but I
was desperate for some reminder I could carry with me besides a few
stolen shirts.

I opened the box and peered inside. The
contents were neatly stacked. Carefully, I pulled the items out one
at a time. Most were tokens and items from places he had been, or
awards he had won. It made me smile to see that many of them were
connected to places we had been, or things we had done,
together.

The movie stubs weren’t surprising. I had a
collection of my own that I brought with me from my house. There
were also several coins from foreign countries. Those were probably
from his dad who had served overseas in the military after high
school. His father had dreamed of Uriah following in his footsteps
until I had come into the picture. When I started hanging around,
the topic came up less and less.

The next item I took out of the box was a
medal, without the accompanying ribbon. There were several of the
metal disks, and I took them all out and laid them on the window
sill. They represented only a few of the sports Uriah had played. I
had been to every home game Uriah had ever played in, and as many
of the away games as I could convince my parents to let me attend,
which unfortunately wasn’t very many. Uriah’s favorite sport was
baseball, but my favorite to watch him play was basketball.

Setting the medals aside, I pulled a small
purple box out and carefully removed the lid. A delicate paper star
lay inside. The sight of it stopped my breath. I had made the star
and given it to Uriah a few weeks after the day on the riverbank.
My cousin had taught me how to fold the paper into the simple
shape, but inside you were supposed to write a message to the
person you were giving it to.

I had written a message on the paper before
folding the star, but I hadn’t actually told Uriah about it. Too
shy to show him the message, I had given him the paper star as
casually as possible. Ever since I had considered telling him to
open it, but felt silly admitting the message was inside so long
after I had given it to him.

Apparently I hadn’t needed to mention the
note for him to have found it. I picked up the star to find it was
not exactly as I had given it to Uriah. It had been refolded inside
out. The message I had so secretly written was now plainly seen.
You are my strength, Uriah
. I smiled at the words. At the
time they had seemed very inspired. I wondered if Uriah had thought
the message silly. I also wondered how he had known to look inside
the star. I would ask him as soon as I could.