The Second Coming (28 page)

*Be ready
.
I will return
.*

Brahm nodded,
and the wolf bounded off into the trees.

The following
morning, after a dreamless night, Brahm woke to a murderous
headache. The effects from Soul Running still inundated her, and it
was all she could do to lift her head and rise. She had
overindulged.

Shit.

She remembered
well her first experience, and still thought her skill connected
with the blue-eyed woman she had encountered — the Lastborn
woman.

The woman
whose fucking soul was living inside her.

After that
encounter and her first steps as a Soul Runner, she had had to
sleep for days to recover.

Upon breaking
fast, she headed into the woods to wait for Night's return, leaving
White Feather and Diarmuid in the clearing to watch the skies for
Talon. She leaned back against a young maple that twisted its way
towards the sky, overshadowed by towering cedars and sycamores. The
wolf expected her to be waiting, and wait she would.

The song from
a meadowlark drifted from an open patch of long grass about twenty
feet from where she sat. Brahm let her thoughts drift as it sang,
pondering the Clan Mother's dream.

Did Lya have anything to do with the woman in the
cave?
Or for that matter, did the
Lastborn-woman? Would saving one of them get rid of her?

The second
soul stirred again.

-
It’s her!-

Her attention
shifted as Night came to her. She sat silent and showed no fear in
his presence.

Not this time
.

His eyes
gleamed and he lowered his head.

*We have seen the girl
.
She is surrounded by two-foots, tens of hundreds
of them
.
Most
smell of witchcraft and death
.
*

Brahm rose and
summoned the others to join her.

Night’s tail
hung in a shallow arch.

*
We leave now.
*

He bounded
into the woods, his thoughts trailing him.

“
We follow,” Brahm said, and ran after him.

Night led the
trio at a fast pace, the wolf remaining barely in sight. Only once
did he stop to drink from a small puddle, giving them a moment's
rest from the sun that blinked through the canopy of leaves. The
feeling of heaviness in Brahm's head grew with every step.

She considered
pausing to rest. The wolf kept a strong pace, but she was
determined not to show weakness; no matter the cost. She suppressed
her fatigue and trudged onwards.

Finally,
thoughts from the wolf came to her.

*
We are close
.
Your footsteps must be lighter
here
.
Orenda, you
are with me
.
The
others follow Bane.*

As he said it
another wolf appeared, a tawny brown that was slightly smaller than
Night. Brahm motioned for White Feather and Diarmuid to follow Bane
while she clambered after the larger wolf.

For some time
Brahm crept through the trees. Unsheathing the kahbeth, she
breathed in steady, slow breaths. She slipped into her ethereal
dance, drawn to it once more. She became an entity of sensation,
one with the Great Mother and the forest. With a sweeping grace her
soul floated onwards.

She sensed
Night stop and crouch low. Brahm’s body paused with him, but her
spirit traveled on and she sensed the size of the encampment.
Within was the pulse of human lives, too many to count. Slowly, she
glided among them, searching for a soul that would seem different
from the others, one that would be frightened and alone. Yet the
entire encampment was a field of fear, full of souls trapped and
bound to a will not their own. She sensed the struggle among them,
the struggle to be liberated and the hatred and jealousy of all
things free. The tumult of emotions rose from the camp like the
stench from a pit of carcasses, thick and putrefying. It made her
soul want to gag.

She whispered
through the camp and gasped as she came upon a long stake in the
ground. Skewered upon its roughly-hewn spike was Lya’s falcon,
still and lifeless, its body emanating a cold void.

Brahm
continued on and found Lya, seated upon a crate, surrounded by
Hunters, generals and a man in white robes. His face was covered.
The generals appeared to be inundating Lya with questions, but the
words Brahm could not hear. The girl shook her head, her face
angered. Brahm probed further and Lya peered about her, as if
sensing Brahm’s presence. Then Lya grabbed at her chest as if in
sudden agony. With what little energy she could muster, Brahm tried
to brush the girl's essence with her own, but her soul reeled back
before she could reach her. As it was yanked backwards, she noticed
something. Someone had witnessed the encounter. Something had
sensed her.

With a jolt,
Brahm dropped to her knees. The kahbeth tumbled to the earth. They
were screaming at her, or was it her second soul? She put her hand
to her head. The pain was blinding and she groped along the
ground.

Night’s breath
was on her neck, moist and rank.

*You were sensed
.
We must leave
.
Quickly.*

She groaned as
she rose, grasping for the kahbeth to sheathe them once more. Then
she stumbled after Night.

When she met
with the others, White Feather dropped to the ground, his shoulders
stooped.

“
They are at least three thousand strong. Not all Hunters, but
I'm not sure how we're going to get her out. We'd be caught before
we took two steps.”

Diarmuid eased
himself down. “We didn't see her. Did you?”

She gave a
shallow nod, her head still feeling like it was being cracked open
from the inside.

“
She's close to the north end. She seems all right.” A thought
troubled her. “I can't figure out why the Hunters are gathered this
far west of the Mississippi.”

Diarmuid shook
his head. “I'm not sure, maybe they came for the silver of
Underwood. This army will plow through Haven if they're not
prepared. Even then I'm not sure they would stand a chance.”
Diarmuid cast a glance towards Night. “We need to send a
message.”

The wolf’s
thoughts echoed in Brahm’s head.

*Whatever message you need sent, we will
deliver
.
Decide
your next move and come to us when you have need.*

The following
morning, after what little rest they could manage, they took the
horses and began the trek forward. The weather was hot and the
moisture in the air saturated Brahm’s lungs. Her head still ached,
and her vision was clouded.

She needed
rest, a lot of it.

For hours they
traveled, giving a wide berth around the encampment of Hunters. The
wolves acted as scouts, brief flashes of movement in the periphery.
At times they would herd the three of them north and at others back
south again. Brahm yawned. Fatigue weighed on her like a miller's
grindstone around her neck. She fought to stay awake as the steady
sound of Roan's trotting practically lulled her to sleep in the
saddle. Her eyelids felt like flaps of dried leather. Finally,
Diarmuid called a halt near a small river so they could cool off.
Brahm gave thanks to the Great Mother and collapsed to the
ground.

***

Brahm woke to
a gentle nudge and a whispered summons.

“
Orenda.”

The nudge
became a shake.

“
Orenda, wake up.”

There was
urgency in that voice and the shake persisted.

“
Orenda, the wolves are here.”

Brahm opened
her eyes and shielded her face from the stabbing sunlight.

“
What's going on?”

“
Orenda, are you all right?” White Feather leaned over her and
stroked her cheek, his touch tender. “We need you.”

Brahm
attempted to sit up, but collapsed. Consciousness slipped from her
feeble grasp. She needed sleep.

She was
faintly aware of Diarmuid and White Feather backing away from her
as something large leaned in. The pungent smell of earth and death
flooded her nostrils — a wolf. She opened her eyes to find Bane
sniffing at her. Then Night approached. He growled at Bane, and
sent him scurrying off.

*Orenda, you cannot rest now
.
The Hunters come
.
They bring the girl
.
You must rise.*

A renewing
energy seeped into her with the breath of the wolf on her face.
Slowly, her vision returned, the fog lifting.

*
This gift is
temporary.
*

“
Lya is coming,” she said to the others and groaned. “The
Hunters are bringing her.”

White Feather
pulled her to her feet. “Then we could not ask for a better
opportunity.”

Diarmuid cast
a wary glance towards her. “He's right, but this is too convenient.
Something smells funny about this.” He rubbed the bandage on his
arm.

“
I agree,” she said, watching him. “Someone caught me while I
searched for Lya. I think it might have been another Soul
Runner.”

Diarmuid
frowned. “What do you mean?”

She shook her
head. “I'm not sure, but I have a feeling I was noticed.”

He pursed his
lips. “I don't like this. It could be a trap, but it’s the only
chance we have.”

White Feather
took the horses to hide them among the trees, the wolf leading
him.

Diarmuid took
a moment to study Brahm. “Are you going to be all right? We had a
hard time waking you.”

She faked a
smile. “I feel fine.”

Diarmuid said
nothing, but disbelief lingered in his eyes. Diarmuid knew of the
skill she possessed, and the fact she was using it blindly. His
steady gaze penetrated her lie. She turned it back on him as his
fingers fiddled with the bandage.

“
Don’t you dare summon that ghoul. We can do this without
help.”

He turned from
her and cast his eyes towards White Feather as he returned from the
woods.

On the man’s
heels was Night.

*
They bring the girl to the
river
.
We wait in
the shadows, Orenda.*

The wolf stole
into the forest, his casual lope now one of stealth.

The three
waded across the river and spread out, each finding cover. They
agreed to wait until what seemed to be the right opportunity to
strike.

Brahm
unsheathed the kahbeth.

Ten Hunters
headed towards them, making for the river. Lya was surrounded by
the entire group. She marched with purpose, her face defiant and
haughty. Brahm had seen that look before.

-
It’s her!-

Brahm’s spirit
was hauled forward without consent, dragged by the second presence
inside her. She sailed towards Lya in a mad frenzy. Her soul
careened towards Lya’s as Brahm’s fingers clutched the kahbeth.
Like iron filings to lodestone, her soul reeled back before she
reached her. The voice in her head was screaming again.

-
It’s her! It’s her!-

Shut up!

She rang her
finger along the blade of the kahbeth, forcing blood. The pain
silenced the voice once more.

Three Hunters
stooped to fill their flasks at the river. The others remained
watchful, but casual in their stance. Perhaps this was good fortune
after all, she thought. Perhaps this wasn’t a deliberate move by
the Confederation. Night watched her from the shrubs. The wolf
nodded, but his thoughts did not come to her.

Brahm fidgeted
as she waited, flicking the blades of the kahbeth with her thumb.
The Hunters took turns and when one of the last ones finally
stooped before the waters Brahm knew their moment had arrived.

So had White
Feather.

He loosed an
arrow that dropped one of the Hunters face down into the river. The
arrow protruded from his back.

The Hunters
reacted quickly, four of them bounding towards the source of the
strike. White Feather ran towards them, war club in hand.

Diarmuid
joined him from where he hid in the trees, sword bared.

The wolves
leapt from the shrubs, their snarling echoing through the
trees.

All but two of
the Hunters scattered to face their attackers. Two stood guard over
Lya, backs to Brahm. The kahbeth shrieked at Brahm for blood, but
she deprived them.

Instead, she
crawled across clumps of bull thistle, wincing as they pierced her
skin. She made steady ground, yet cautious not to make any sudden
moves or sounds.

The wolves
pulled two of the Hunters to the ground. Brahm heard their screams.
So did the kahbeth. They yearned.

White Feather
hurled his war club at one of the Hunters. It struck her in the
face.

Diarmuid
fought with another, and pierced his thigh with the sword. The
blood ran fast and red.

Again, the
kahbeth screamed in Brahm’s head. They thirsted, they hungered.

She inched
forward.

When she was
close, Lya noticed her and Brahm motioned for her to wait. Lya
disobeyed that command and dashed towards Brahm, holding out her
roped hands in front of her.

“
Break these!” she called.

Brahm growled
and leapt from the shrubs. She raised the kahbeth and with a swift
stroke she sliced through the bindings. She reached over to release
the collar from Lya’s neck, but her fingers faltered as the ground
shook. The collar slid off on its own. Then two of the Hunters,
palms sliced and dripping, summoned something from the earth.