The Star-Fire Prophecy (3 page)

“He’s one of them,” she heard a woman say to her companion. “I never saw her before, but
he’s
one of them from that place up there where they have the bonfires.”

The man with the woman cleared his throat and Danica glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He spoke in a voice obviously pitched for Evan and her to hear.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live…”

Chapter Three

Once outside the restaurant, Danica put her hand on Evan’s arm. “Did you hear what that man said?” she asked.

“Exodus 22:18.”

“Oh, I know it’s a Biblical quote,” she said, her voice impatient. “But why did he say it?”

“Some of the locals—a clannish group, by the way—find us menacing.” Evan laughed harshly. “Anything they don’t understand is a threat.”

“Well, I know many people are uneasy about the mentally disabled,” Danica said.

“Oh, no, not the children, the children don’t bother them at all. Didn’t you know Porterville has a state hospital for the disabled?”

She shook her head.

“No, we’re the ones they distrust—the staff. Maybe you’ll have second thoughts after this.”

She tried to see his expression in the gathering darkness. Did he want her at Star-Fire or not? She was no longer sure.

She followed the taillights of Evan’s blue Porsche up blacktopped roads that wound around hills, all the time ascending. Lights grew fewer and the final stretch of road was unpaved. As she trailed him through an open gate, she saw the flicker of fire ahead. “Bonfires,” the woman had said. Danica smiled, thinking of her mental picture of the site.

“Campfires,” she murmured. Why were people so afraid of the unknown?

She pulled her car alongside Evan’s and got out. Would they invite her to spend the night? There’d been motels in Porterville, but she wasn’t sure she could negotiate the different turns and twists to get back to town.

“Hand me your suitcases,” Evan said. “We have guest accommodations.”

She got out her luggage and locked the car. The fire was hidden from them by the back of a large A-frame structure. Probably the recreation hall, she thought.

“This is the Chanting Room,” Evan said. “Tonight is a ritual-fire night. We have them at least once a month, usually oftener in the winter.” He led her around the building and she saw the fire.

Flames rose tall and yellow from a semicircular area in front of the A-frame. Dark figures clustered around the fire, forming a complete circle. Faces glowed orange in the light and Danica saw the children were here, too. The ritual fire was for everyone.

“We can’t join them,” Evan whispered. “You haven’t been shown the rites.” He moved past them and she followed, head turned to watch the fire.

A rhythm came into her step, she found her body swaying and realized the entire group about the flames was chanting, voices pitched low. The sound went through her, settled into her bones, and flooded her head with images of flickering lights and groping shadows. She shivered and hurried to catch up with Evan. This was more than a friendly campfire.

“When the weather’s bad we go inside to chant at the source,” he told her. “It’s a group consciousness thing—one of Galt’s best ideas.”

“He’s the director?”

“Yes. Galt Anders. I’m taking you to his house now, he’ll be up after the fire is put away.”

“Put away?”

“It’s all a part of what you’ll be learning if you stay. The eternal fire is kept in the Chanting Room, the fire source, so to speak. All the outdoor fires are lit from it, and after the outside ritual a small part of that fire is brought back to the source.”

Danica shrugged mentally. She’d wait and see the rest of Star-Fire before making any judgment. But this part did sound odd.

They began climbing steps, going up to a structure that Danica could see was circular. “A round house?” she asked, somewhat breathless from the long climb up.

“All the houses are round. They’ve been here for years. When Galt bought the property the only building we added was the Chanting Room.” Evan opened a door and she went past him into Galt Anders’s house.

She stepped into a room lit by two lamps on either side of a fireplace. The bulbs were dim and shadows lurked in the angles of furniture. There were no corners in the room. A window wall overlooked the fire scene below. Danica turned away from the window and her eye caught a flicker of motion, but when she looked about her there was no one to be seen except Evan staring down at the flames.

“Evan,” she said, “is there someone in the house with us?”

“What?” He turned around to face her. “No, Galt is with the others. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“But I saw something. Does he have a pet?”

“A pet? No, there are no animals at Star-Fire except Melantha’s cat. And the horses, of course.”

A shadow detached itself from behind the couch.

“Evan, it’s one of the children,” Danica said.

“Amy.” His voice was flat; then the pitch changed, becoming singsong. “Amy, listen to me, Amy, you must go to the fire, the fire helps us all, you must not hide, the fire is for you.”

With a sudden rush of movement, the child disappeared into the darkness beyond an archway.

“She isn’t supposed to be here,” Evan said. “Galt indulges her.” He followed Amy, switching on lights as he went. “Amy,” he called.

Danica trailed along. Something about the child had suggested Amy was afraid. This wasn’t a giggling child, hiding to tease or for the fun of being found. Amy’s silent disappearance had been that of a small, hunted animal.

“Don’t disturb her,” Danica said to Evan. “Let’s go back to the living room.”

“She shouldn’t be allowed to miss the ritual fire,” he repeated stubbornly.

“But isn’t that almost over for tonight? Don’t hunt her down.”

Evan stopped and swung around to stare at Danica. “Has she gotten to you already?” he muttered.

“I haven’t even seen her clearly, but I know Amy is afraid. Your searching for her hiding place can only increase her fear—it certainly won’t do her any good.”

“And how are you so sure of this from a shadow? You admit you wouldn’t know Amy if you saw her. Why do you accuse me of hunting her down? Don’t you find that a strong phrase for what I’m doing?”

Danica shook her head. “I don’t know, I can’t explain, but she’s terrified. Please let her be, come back to the living room.”

Evan shrugged. In the harsh overhead light his face was hard, the blue-green eyes cold.
Can Amy be afraid of Evan, specifically
? Danica asked herself.
Is this fear I feel, flowing like an air current about me, directed toward him or is it free-floating, a fear of everything
?

“What’s wrong?” A man’s voice spoke from behind them.

They both turned and Danica saw a man with dark hair standing in the hall. He was taller than Evan, though not as heavily built.

“We were looking for Amy,” Evan said. “She’s here somewhere. I know you wouldn’t have wanted her to miss the fire.”

The man shrugged. “I don’t like to push Amy,” he said.

“But Melantha…” Evan broke off. “Sorry. I forgot why I’m here. This is Danica Linstrom, Galt.”

Galt Anders, the director of Star-Fire. He moved toward her, an olive-skinned man with straight black hair worn above his collar. She looked into slanting brown eyes and suddenly recalled her mother speaking of a boy the teenaged Danica had begun to date.

“Beware of those dark Swedes, Danny. Tartar blood makes them different.”

“What do you mean, different?” Danica demanded of her mother.

“They can be cruel,” her mother said. “Be careful.”

Danica had ignored the warning, passing it off as another of her mother’s odd reactions to people, but she had lost interest in the boy and never did know him well.

Galt Anders was a similar physical type.

“I’m pleased you decided to visit us,” he said to her.

“I hope I’ll be able to fit in,” she said.

There was a silence.
Have I said something wrong
? Danica wondered.
Surely Evan told him I was interested in working here
.

“I—I told her about the horoscope.” Evan’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Melantha Cross usually does the recruiting,” Galt .aid. “She seems to have a knack for finding the right people for Star-Fire. Melantha considers a horoscope absolutely essential for her evaluation.” He smiled. “I must admit she’s almost always right.”

“I don’t mind,” Danica said.

Galt headed for the living room and they followed. There were lights on now in the A-frame below, but the bonfire was gone, completely quenched so that only darkness remained.

Galt gestured toward the chairs, and as they seated themselves the door opened and a woman came in. Danica thought she’d never seen such a beautiful face. She found herself staring at the pale skin, so white as to appear bloodless, the huge golden eyes, the tumbled mass of dark curls cascading down. The woman wore a black cape with the hood thrown back and she stood in the doorway, striking, dramatic, not quite real.

“Come in, Melantha.” Did Galt’s voice hold a trace of irony?

“Where’s Amy?” Melantha asked. Her voice was low, husky, as attractive as she was.

“Hiding,” Evan said.

“Melantha, this is Danica Linstrom,” Galt said. “She’s heard of Star-Fire and Evan has told me she’s already working with the energies. Perhaps you…”

“We don’t need anyone else,” Melantha broke in.

“That’s not true,” Galt said calmly. “You’ll have a chance to interview Miss Linstrom tomorrow.”

Galt and Melantha stared at one another until Melantha made a slight gesture of acceptance with her hand. She still stood by the door, although she had closed it behind her.

“I’ve come for Amy,” she repeated.

Despite Melantha’s beauty, Danica was reminded of a bird of prey, imperious and demanding, and Amy’s fear came back to Danica again as though the child herself was seeking sanctuary.

“Amy’s afraid.” The words came from Danica involuntarily.

“Of me?” Melantha laughed. “Of Galt? Evan?”

“She—she’s just afraid,” Danica said, now defensive.

Melantha began to speak, stopped, and drew in her breath. Danica shifted uncomfortably under her stare. They were all looking at her, the three of them. The room was quiet; Danica waited. Was it she they watched or was it something behind her? She began to turn her head, then felt a gentle touch, felt fingers moving through her hair.

Slowly, carefully, she shifted until she could see the child standing beside her chair. Amy. A small girl, of slight build, with grey eyes. Eyes that didn’t meet Danica’s. Amy’s entire attention was fixed on Danica’s red hair. With a quick movement, the child bent her head to rest her cheek for a moment against the hair, then she resumed her careful fingering, holding a strand between her palms, letting them slide back and forth. Danica said nothing, not moving.

“Red hair,” Evan said softly.

Melantha swooped toward the child and gathered her into the folds of the cape. Danica half rose in her chair, words of protest forming in her mind. But Galt nodded.

“Goodnight, Amy,” he said. “Come and see me again.”

Danica saw the little girl didn’t struggle, seeming to accept being carried off by Melantha, and so she remained silent.

“I’ll take Danica to a guest room,” Evan said. “Lydia’s?”

Galt got to his feet. “Yes, of course.” He waited until she rose and then took her hand, turning it over so the palm was uppermost. Danica had the impulse to close her fingers, hide her palm lines from him, but that was silly—he was no Madame Rena.

He dropped her hand. “You must be tired from your drive,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Outside, Evan didn’t climb back down the steps, but led her along a path that ran at a slight upward angle from Galt’s house and then straightened. She saw another round house outlined against the stars but they passed it, then another.

“She doesn’t like me,” Danica said to Evan.

“Who?”

“Melantha.”

He made a noncommittal sound.

“She said you didn’t need me here, didn’t need anyone.”

“Well, we’ve been getting along all right.”

“Then why did you tell me…?”

Evan squeezed her arm. “I liked you. I mean—well, I didn’t think you’d actually show up here…”

She couldn’t pull away from him or she’d lose the pathway, but Danica withdrew mentally.
He’s lying
, she thought.
In L.A. he told me outright there was a staff shortage here; he urged me to apply. And when he got back here from the seminar he told Galt Anders about me, he admitted that. What’s happened between then and now
?

“Have you hired anyone new lately?” she asked.

“No. But as Melantha said, we’re getting along fine.”

“How long has she been with the group?”

“From the beginning. I’m the latest recruit who’s stayed on and I’ve been here two years.”

“How about Amy?”

“Amy? She’s just come to stay with us.”

“She’s disturbed.” Evan stopped at the next house and opened the door, the light from inside slanting across his face. It had the hard look she’d noticed earlier.

“Many of the children are upset when they first come, it’s a change, they take time to adjust. For the most part they’ve done so quickly. Of course, some of them come here in bad shape emotionally.” He said the phrases mechanically.

“I realize that, but…”

“This is where you’ll sleep,” he said.

The bedroom was small but cozy. Evan left her quickly, saying he was next door, he’d see her tomorrow. Danica brushed her teeth in the bathroom and decided to shower in the morning. The bed covering was a velour spread of intricate design in oranges and yellows. Danica folded the spread back and reached to turn down the sheets. As she did so something scuttled from under the pillow and hurried across the blanket, the legs making a dry, rasping sound as it moved toward her.

Danica jerked her hand away and stepped back from the bed. It was grotesque, menacing. She’d never seen one before, but she knew this was a scorpion, with a poisoned stinger in its tail.