Oliver
DAWN'S SILVER LIGHT STREAMED INTO THE CABIN THROUGH THE EAST WINDOW AND LANDED ON OLIVER'S FACE. He ached to his fingernails, but he forced his eyes open and checked his phone. No news. Outside, mist filled the Grove, giving an impression of melancholy, but the clouds were just thin enough to let the light pass through. Beside him, Dayla still slept, twitching in a fitful dream.
Yellow pus and blood soaked her bandage and stained her pillowcase. Though he knew she wouldn't stay in bed long, perhaps another hour of sleep would help. If the infection got worse, he would take her to see Mitch. As a teenager, Mitch used to think it was funny when Dayla lost control of her magic. As an adult, he refused to believe, so Oliver would tell him that she over-exhausted herself without explanation, easy enough with the search.
Too tired to squint at the small screen of his phone, Oliver turned the television to the morning news. As he expected, the top local headline was Sitka Quay's Police Search For Missing Child.
Behind the dark-haired male newscaster explaining the Amber Alert System was a large picture of Katie Yannick in a pink jacket and a bright smile. A shapely blonde newscaster spoke as the station played and replayed the same two clips—the front of the Yannick house, with its chipped blue paint and chain-link fence, and Katie's empty sandbox, strewn with toys. Intermittently, the video cut to the search party from the night before. Another male newscaster, wearing a yellow raincoat and a faux-concerned expression, milked Erik for information with the standard set of questions. The camera cut to Anez sobbing in the picnic shelter.
Pinching his lips together, Oliver turned off the television and called Jonah.
"Yeah?" a tired voice answered.
Through the phone, Oliver heard Samantha.
"You still running the show today?" he asked.
"With Sergeant Wang's permission, I guess."
"Where are we meeting?"
"I don't know. Can I call you back?"
"Yeah, I'm going to make some espresso and feed the cat." Oliver reached to the floor and pulled on dirty hiking pants. Damp fabric touched his skin and he stepping out of them again to grab a pair of wool long johns for extra warmth. He would shower at home—with his raindrop showerhead—and leave the cabin's small water heater full, so Dayla might rest in a hot bath.
"I hate to ask, but does your offer for good coffee still stand?" Jonah asked.
"Sure, what do you want?" he asked, yanking the tight wool over his legs.
"Quad shot latte? And Sammy said her usual."
As he left the cabin, he could barely see ten feet in front of him. To the north, Sitka's Quay's streetlights blurred in the condensing mist. To the south, the world disappeared. Nothing to assume the day would be any better than the day before. It was likely to be much worse.
Jonah
"OLIVER'S MAKING US COFFEE."
Jonah rolled over and put his arm around Samantha's soft warm back. "Think you can seduce him to our side when he drops it off?"
"How much time do I have?" she said.
Jonah scanned for horror stuck in her heart, but saw a new conviction in her eyes. He had been successful in breaking her moral compass. He had to be careful to keep his secret, but otherwise Samantha was still loyal to him and his cause.
"It's not your cause." She pulled away from him. "The Three. What secret?"
The skin in his armpits and lower back tingled as sweat formed. "You can read my mind?"
"Yes. I touched a God through Galeno last night. I'm still on fire."
"But you're here?"
"Yes."
"And you don't want to hurt anyone?"
"No..." Her casual smile stiffened. "What's our next move?"
Flipping through the names and phone numbers he received yesterday, Jonah asked, "Did you see what they wanted?"
"Not exactly, but Piah did not mean to kill her. She died in His hands and became poison. Gods need a living sacrifice. She was too weak to withstand His glory."
"I wish I had been there. How much meth did her parents do?"
Samantha frowned. "They were customers of my husband, but that was years before Anez was pregnant."
"We need more time to figure it out, and we need to keep Dayla out of the Grove longer than a day. Explain Erik's animosity for sorcery."
Samantha didn't answer. Sweat dampened her hairline and a growling laugh made his blood run cold. She laughed until she was red in the face and choking on saliva. Yet her blue eyes remained unmoved.
"What is it?" Jonah drew his arms back toward his core, afraid to touch her. "Sam?"
"The Keeper will be kept out of the Grove. I saw to that last night," she said.
Dayla
POISON!
Scores of large black bird silhouettes—eagles or maybe ravens—circled the Grove. Rain drops darkened and became blood. Ammon stood screaming over her, pointing toward a Nexus surrounded by rocks and sand. Blood. Rocks. I stopped him, but I didn't kill him!
Contrasting images, which Dayla could not understand, forced her awake. Oliver's side of the bed was empty. Her wounded hand pulsed in pain as she picked up her phone.
An eagle screeched, echoing its cry to another. She peered out the window, but except for the ghostly outline of nearby trees, she couldn't see through the thick mist.
She slipped on the articles of clothes left on the floor and threw a jacket over her mismatched clothes. She stepped outside and looked at the large tree. Two bald eagles fought viciously for a position overhead. Something was wrong, something big. Dayla inched forward, shielding her eyes against the dawn's diffused glare. "Oh my Goddess!"
Katie Yannick hung from a tree by a jute rope.
Dayla dashed back into the cabin, grabbed a kitchen knife, and cut her down. Katie's skin felt clammy and cold. Her flesh had purpled and her milky eyes stared toward the sky. Her throat was covered in bruises, scraped open by an eagle's talon.
The words: Unworthy Poison! was scrawled across the child's jacket in blood mixed with dirt.
"Oliver! Oliver! Oh my Goddess."
Remembering she was alone, she dialed his cell. "Oliver! I found Katie—hanging from a tree!" she screamed. "She isn't breathing."
"Call 911! I'm on my way." Without saying goodbye, Dayla disconnected and called 911.
Within minutes, Erik pulled up in the police car, lights blazing. Dayla raced toward him, pointing behind her. "I cut her down, but she's still not breathing! Help her!"
Erik sprinted to the child's body, knelt in the dirt, and pressed his fingers to her neck.
Another siren ripped through the morning. A county ambulance pulled into the parking lot. Volunteer paramedics rushed toward the girl. "Move," one yelled, and checked Katie for a pulse. Another began CPR.
Erik grabbed Dayla's arm, stepped aside, and pulled out a notebook. "So what happened?"
Through sobs, Dayla explained how she heard the eagles and went outside.
"Who was the last person in the Grove?" Erik's grim professional countenance did not change as he took notes.
"I walked the Lake Circle last night, but I didn't see anyone, and certainly not this! Have you questioned the tourists?" she asked, thinking of Jonah again.
"Police business is not your business," Erik said.
Sickening cracking arose from Katie's body as the paramedics performed CPR. Covering her ears, Dayla attempted to shake the sounds from her head. "This is everyone's business!"
"Unless you want to spend the day in jail, mind that tone."
"I don't care about going to jail; I just want to find out who hurt Katie!" Dayla knew it was a mistake to scream, but she couldn't help it. "What if Katie stayed there all night? I should've checked the Grove earlier!"
"How did you miss this?"
"I was looking at the ground, not in the sky." Dayla cried, "Who would've tied her up? Where's Ollie?"
"What do you mean where is Ollie?"
Erik's harsh tone infuriated her. Another police car arrived, and Deputy Vince McDowell hurried over to the paramedics. He pulled out a large camera. The high pitch whining of the flash drilled into her mind.
"Well, where is he?"
"He left this morning to go to the house. To make coffee." She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, leaving a clear slick trail of snot and tears. "Who would've done this?"
"I suggest you calm down. Now, how do you know where he went?"
Ignoring the question, Dayla screamed, "Why don't you care about Katie?"
Magical energy built within her. She pressed it into her belly, but the fire burned, biting into her nerves. Another one of Katie's ribs cracked, a side effect of the paramedics obstinate use of CPR.
"I repeat, Dayla Fischer, you need to calm down."
Erik was right, she needed to remain in control, but his voice grated upon her wounded neurons.
"Katie's just a baby!" she cried. The magic bubbled up her throat. Fearing the energy, Dayla gripped her stomach.
The paramedics ceased pumping and Vince took photographs before they lifted Katie's lifeless body off the ground. The child's head lolled onto her right shoulder as they carried her toward the ambulance.
A sing-song voice in the distance, a vision of Katie singing, My Little Pony, My Little Pony, myyyyyy little pony.... all pieced themselves together, penetrating Dayla's brain.
She fell to her knees, but the scorching fire rose from her core, up her spine, toward her head. Golden light flew from her fingertips and ricocheted off the nearby trees.
Vince and the paramedics stopped and stared at her. "What was that?"
Erik grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her to her feet. "Get in the car. I don't much take to your kind or your damned sorcery."
Pressing her hands together, she pleaded, "Erik, you can't believe I had anything to do with Katie?"
"Maybe, I don't." Erik said, "But I'm not going to put up with witch dreck and uncontrollable dangerous spells on my case. You're under arrest."
"What?"
"You want to add resisting arrest to your charges?"
"No." She shook her head.
"Get in the car."
Dayla didn't argue when he opened the rear door of the police car. She slipped inside, trembling. They weren't teenagers anymore. Unlike the days when he, Mike, and Mitch used to egg her on until power flowed out of her, Erik no longer thought it was funny when she lost control of herself.
Erik muttered something to Vince and climbed into the front seat.
Oliver
EXHAUSTED FEET ACHING, Oliver hurried toward the cabin with Dayla's breakfast in hand. Why didn't I drive?
His wife sounded scared and overwhelmed on the phone, but the police were on their way. The search was over. Nothing would be all right, but at least the town would have answers.
Erik drove past him and Oliver caught a glimpse of Dayla waving frantically at him from the back seat. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and called the police. "Lucy? My God, I just saw Dayla in the back seat of Erik's car. What's going on?
"What are you talking about?" The dispatcher replied.
"Where is Erik taking my wife?"
"I don't know anything about it. Wait. I see them. Erik's bringing her in. I'll call you back when I know something."
Cursing his decision to travel by foot, he turned around and dashed back to town. Heart pounding and shins screaming, the foul odor of sweat rising from his body be damned! His only goal was to get to the police station. Everything else was a non-caffeinated blur.
Panting, he opened the glass door.
"Where's my wife, Lucy?" he asked, his whole body shaking.
Her demeanor was professional. "I'm sorry, Oliver, but you'll have to sit there." She pointed at a row of three brown pleather and metal commercial chairs faded by the western sun.
"But I want to know what...."
Lucy put a finger to her lips and gestured with her eyes to the left. Oliver followed her gaze to a wood and glass partition, through which he could see Dayla and Erik. He orbited around her as she sat in a chair, crying and twisting her wedding ring.
"What the...?"
"Please be seated and wait," Lucy said assertively, but more gently than before.
It killed him to sit helplessly, while Dayla was in such distress, but as a law-abiding man, Oliver tried to be patient. As he waited, it occurred to him that it would only be a matter of time before all his neighbors would know Dayla was arrested.
Dayla
ERIK ASKED DAYLA TO EMPTY HER POCKETS. HE took her cell phone and asked for her wedding ring.
She cried as she tried to pull it off, but it was stuck on her knuckle.
Erik pulled a tube of lotion from his desk to lubricate her finger. Her finger felt naked without the ring she had worn for fifteen years. It disappeared, along with her cell phone, into a waxed manila envelope. She signed for her possessions and played with her ring-indented flesh.
"What are you charging me with?"
"Right now, disturbing the peace and discharging a weapon within city limits. But tell me, where'd you get that wound on your hand?"
"I was casting a spell."
"What kind of spell?"
"I cast a protection barrier on the Grove. So no one who could do harm could get inside."
"It obviously didn't work." Erik said, "Dayla, I don't think you realize the trouble you might be in. Discharging a weapon is a Class C felony according to Oregon Law 166.220."
"But I was trying to help."
"Galeno just wants to help too, but I will tell you what I told him: if you allow your faculties to overwhelm you, you will be sent to an institution."
Dayla noticed Oliver through the partition and wished he could come and sit beside her. She struggled to pay attention to what Erik was saying about the law, but her mind spun with dreams. Ammon, in shadows, walked behind the trees. Silhouettes of birds. Screams of Poison. The words 'Unworthy Poison' written on Katie's jacket.179
She buried her face into her cupped hands.
Erik handed her a Kleenex. "You need rest." And led her toward the back of the office toward three old musty cells which stood since 1903. "I should've had you help with the organization yesterday rather than searching the trails." He opened a cell door.
Shivering, she took a step inside. "What if the Three wakes while I'm in here?"
"The Three? Hell, you might as well ask what if Jesus comes back while you are in there."
Dayla didn't respond, turning instead toward the only piece of furniture in the cell. A thin mattress squeaked under her weight as she sat down and the metal bars of the holding cell door clanged shut behind her.
Oliver
OLIVER WONDERED IF THEY WOULD EVER FINISH. His lower back hurt from sitting on crappy pleather chairs, and every other muscle hurt from the previous day's search. Samantha and Jonah arrived. Jonah remained at a respectful distance, but Samantha headed right for him, her hug enveloping him in a cloud of mint, lavender and vanilla. Whether it was the scent she was wearing, or the nurturing hug, he didn't know, but suddenly, Oliver couldn't keep his eyes open.
He was startled awake by movement as Erik sat beside him. Samantha and Jonah stood off to the side. "Sorry, I must have nodded off."
"Yeah, we had a tough night. Now listen, I don't think Dayla had anything to do with Katie's death, but she abused the badge..."
A sharp sliver of anxiety stabbed into Oliver's heart. "What are you charging her with?"
"Right now, Disorderly Conduct. I'm willing to believe she just went hysterical, but we don't have any place to put a dangerous occultist, except jail."
Beside them, Samantha gasped and bit her lip, Jonah rolled his eyes, and Oliver didn't speak. Given that Erik was currently an obstacle to Dayla's freedom, it wasn't a good time to give him a piece of his mind or explain the correct terminology.
Erik plowed on. "Pick up your witch tomorrow. We can't risk her casting another illegal spell when we have real problems in town."
"This is wrongful imprisonment," Oliver whispered, wiping his sweaty palms on his filthy pants. "I-I can call a lawyer."
"Go ahead. It'll take you half a day to get one though. If she doesn't cause any more trouble, I'll release her tomorrow. If she does, I'll press charges."
Jonah stepped forward and put a soft manicured hand on Oliver's shoulder. His green eyes glowed and the air in Oliver's lungs felt heavy. Jonah's lips moved, but Oliver couldn't make out the words.
Erik faded into the background and Samantha withdrew. The world became a gray void infused only with the sound of Jonah's warm voice. No pain existed in the quiet, calm realm of Jonah's words. "Talk to Dayla, calm her down. Sitka's Quay needs your help. Anez and Steve need your help."
Reality re-crystallized into focus and the pain bounced back. Erik's smug face came back into view.
"What else do you need, Erik?" Oliver croaked.
"First, tend to Dayla before she hurts herself or someone else," Erik said. "Then drive the Yannicks to Mitch's clinic. They need friends around them. Come on. I'll take you back to see her."
Oliver rose and followed Erik down the hall and past two barred empty cells. The third cell held Dayla, leaning against the east wall. She jumped up as Erik unlocked the door and let him in.
Dayla wrapped her arms around Oliver's chest. "Katie's dead, Oliver. Someone killed her!"
The dank smell of old plumbing and constant dripping water made him want to grab his wife and run. In the recesses of his mind, Oliver heard Jonah's voice: She's distraught. She's safer in jail. We're safer if she's in jail. If she loses control, she is more dangerous than Galeno.
She trembled under his arms. Her soft frizzy hair smelled like rain. "I didn't do it. How can anyone think that?"
"Honey, you need to remain calm," he said. "No one thinks you hurt Katie. You're here for releasing a spell."
"But, Ollie...I swear I had nothing to do with this," Dayla said.
"Did you release a spell?"
She nodded.
You need to help the Yannicks echoed in his ears. "I need to help the Yannicks."
It's your duty to the town. "It's my duty to the town."
"But why can't I go home? Shouldn't I help?"
"Baby, I got this. I need to take Steve and Anez to see Katie."
She glared at Erik and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "You're not going to let my husband take me home?"
"Listen, if you're quiet and get some rest, you won't be in any trouble." Erik's low voice raised an octave to a softer, more comforting tone than Oliver had ever heard coming from him. "But you need to rest—that's why you are here. After we're through, I'll send Mitch to look at your hand. And hey, I'm sending Lucy to grab lunch from Colt's Run today. Won't pizza be nice?"
Dayla turned pleading eyes to Oliver. "Please get me out of here."
"I love you," Oliver ran his fingers through her soft curls. "But you need your rest."
"Why can't I rest at home?"
Because she released a spell. "Because, honey, you released a spell."
"But I'm not sure that's against the law."
He patted the uncomfortable-looking cot. "Just do what you're told for a single day in your life. If Erik says it's okay, I'll bring you some fresh clothes later."
Erik nodded. "That will be fine."
Tears trailing down her cheeks, she lay down. He covered her with the blanket.
"What about Dragon? She was in the museum all night."
He rested his hand on her ear. "I already brought her home. Now sleep, honey. Erik says you're not in any real trouble, but without a hospital in town, there's little else to be done when you're in this state." He kissed the salty tears on her cheek.
He did not want to leave her, but his body followed the command of the voice in his head. He stepped out of the cell. Erik followed him and secured the lock.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't find Katie alive."
"We know. It's not your fault."
On his way out, Oliver saw Jonah wiping tears from his eyes and overheard him talking to Samantha. "Poor little kid, she didn't have to die."
Something about Jonah's statement bothered Oliver, but he didn't have time to think about it. He hurried back to his house to get the car. He'd pick up the Yannicks and take them to Dr. Mitch Lomax's clinic, which served double duty as a morgue. Erik met him there and took Katie's parents in the back to identify the body.
Anez's screams echoed through the exam room door and down the hallway as Oliver left to pick up Ben and Margaret. When he returned with them, Anez was still screaming.
"Anez, Katie's with God now," Steve said trying to pry her away from the body.
Oliver did not believe in the God of the Yannick's, so the statement held no comfort for him. It did not seem to help Anez either. She kept screaming even when Margaret wrapped her up in her arms.
Ben anointed Katie's forehead with oil. "Our relationship with Katie has not been dissolved by her death. She is in Heaven now. Mother Mary, protect this child."
"How can you be sure?" Anez cried.
"Katie was baptized in the name of our Lord," Ben said. "And our teachings assure us if a child dies before she is capable of making genuine moral decisions, there is only innocence."
Oliver listened to Father Ben explain Catholic doctrine mixed with what was probably Siletz Practice. Sometimes the beliefs of the town felt similar to his comparative religions class at the university.
Holding Anez's hand, Ben said softly, "God knows Katie was a happy child who liked to roller skate. He knows each strand of hair in her braids and that her favorite color was purple. He even knows how she wished for two little unicorn toys on her fifth birthday. He loves her. Katie will go to heaven, safe in His eternal loving embrace."
Mitch covered the body in a plastic sheet. "She can be moved directly to the church or if you want to perform an autopsy, we can have her transported to Salem."
"I will not have my daughter cut open!" Anez shouted.
Ben patted her forearm. "Whether or not there is an autopsy, Katie's body will be resurrected and reunited with her soul when Jesus comes again at the Last Judgment."
Anez tore away from him, pushed the plastic away and grasped Katie's cold hand. "No!" she shrieked. Steve gently opened her hands and prodded her out of the room.
"Erik, do you need Anez to be available?" Mitch asked.
"Why?"
"She needs a sedative," Mitch said. "Badly."
"What will the death certificate say?" Erik asked.
"Honestly, other than these marks around her neck—which look like they are from eagles, or another raptor—it looks like Katie died from exposure. There are some cracked ribs, but I think that's from the CPR. Otherwise she doesn't seem to be abused in any way, but I'm not a medical examiner."
"That will be some comfort," Ben said.
"Oliver, see them home." Erik whispered to Ben, "Dayla's at the precinct. She lost control this morning. Mitch, after you sedate Anez, she may need medical attention."
"What happened?" Ben adjusted his collarino. The lines on his face deepened.
"She lost it when she found the body."
Knowing he might get even angrier, Oliver didn't wait to hear what else Erik would say. He stepped into the waiting room and said, "Erik asked me to drive you home, but Mitch wants to prescribe Anez some medicine."
Steve's brown eyes glared at him with hate. "The last thing we need is more medicine." He half-dragged, half-carried his weeping wife outside and roughly pushed her into the passenger seat of Oliver's Ford. People on the street stared and offered words of comfort. Anez wept inconsolably. Steve stared out the window as Oliver drove across town.
He pulled in front of the Yannick's house. "Can I help you get Anez inside?"
"I'd rather you left," Steve replied in a dead voice.
"Well, let me know if there is anything else I can do," Oliver said.
Steve did not answer. He dragged Anez up the porch steps and pushed her into the house. The front door slammed shut so hard it rattled. From the other side, Oliver heard Steve yelling, a crash, and Anez's muffled cry.
He wondered if he should knock on the door, but didn't know what to say. A noise didn't necessarily mean anything. He got into the car, heart aching for Anez, Steve, Katie, but mostly for Dayla. Oliver drove back to the house, and idled at the curb. He couldn't bear being home while his wife was in jail. Enough blue interrupted the temperamental gray clouds to predict it would be a dry morning. He took the key out of the ignition, stepped out into the day and shuffled to The Friendly Bean.
At the coffee house, a sudden rush of jealousy overcame Oliver as he saw Jonah sitting beside Mike Andersen. Someone who drove an Aston Martin could hardly be comfortable befriending an out-of-work laborer. Though Oliver hired men like Mike on occasion, he generally despised men who couldn't feed their family. Yet Jonah sat, intensely focused upon Mike's weather-beaten face.
Listening in, he heard, "I get road work in the summer months, but nothing as soon as the rain starts. Lucy does what she can, but that's only part-time. Horrible to send her to WIC. Erik feeds her lunch every day and always sends the leftovers home for us. Christ. Whole damn town knows it too."
Jonah kept nodding as Oliver followed the line to the counter and ordered an Americano. The girl just stared at him, so he repeated his order.
Biting her lip, she wrote his order on a cup.
At the pickup counter, Francine asked, "So it's true they arrested Dayla?"
"She had a nervous breakdown and cast a spell. You know how Erik hates magic."
Francine nodded. "Erik's arrested Galeno for the same thing."
Elm gave a sour look at his wife. "The body was found on your property. Galeno's never been in that kind of trouble."
"We—" Oliver didn't get a chance to say anymore. Someone pushed him into the counter.
"My daughter is an innocent fool, like all Keepers. If anyone did it, it was him," Ariel yelled.
"Ariel, stop it!" Mia cried, grabbing his arm. Ariel pushed his wife away and she fell into a table.
"You! This is your fault!" Ariel kicked Oliver's shin with his wet hiking boot. "It's your job to take care of her!" Another kick. "Do you want her to end up—"
Elm threw in a punch. Oliver tried to deflect it, but lost balance. His back screamed in agony as he slid to the floor.
Oliver tensed his muscles, preparing to be kicked again, but Mike subdued Ariel before he could do more damage.
"Dayla and Oliver were searching like everyone else." Jonah said holding up Mia and patting her hand.
"Dayla was exhausted and forgot herself. It's all right, Ms. Blaise, Mr. Fischer. No one thinks your daughter had anything to do with Katie's death."
"I should've gotten Dayla out of here, before the damn trees chose her," Ariel said softly. "Before Ben screwed up her life. Before you screwed up her life."
Oliver wasn't sure if he should comfort his father-in-law or argue with him.
"See you later, Mike, I better get Ollie home," Jonah said. "Could you help by calming them down?"
Mike nodded.
"Only Dayla and Galeno call me Ollie," he muttered to no one in particular.
Jonah courteously ushered Mia into his seat, pulled out some money and handed it to Francine, with his eyes focused upon the room.
Calm. Jonah's command echoed in Oliver's head, and quickly de-escalated the situation around him. Every person sank into chairs or leaned back in relaxation. It was much more than a simple suggestion spell. How had Jonah done that with a word?
"Let's get out of here," Jonah whispered, cupping Oliver's elbow and pulling him to his feet.
His back screamed with each step as he preceded Jonah out the door. Six steps out, he bent double. Supporting his weight, Jonah lifted him to his feet and gestured to the Aston parked in front of the coffee shop.
Oliver gestured toward his filthy clothes, now even dirtier.
"Shit, Man. Leather can be wiped down." Jonah opened the car door for Oliver and spotted him as he painfully eased himself onto the gray leather. The elegant stitching and sleek design were even more beautiful close up. A crust of dirt fell off his jeans sullying it.
Jonah hopped in and the Aston roared to life.
"Is there a chiropractor nearby for your back?"
"No, Dayla has a tea..."
Jonah nodded, but instead of turning on Starfish Avenue. He continued north on 101 and turned down the dirt road to the Sea Stacks Cabins and RV Park.
"I'm..."
"I have something that will fix you up."
Even the Aston's smooth ride jumped on the bumpy gravel road and it took all of Oliver's will not to scream. Instead, he clenched his hands into fists.
The excruciating ride ended in front of a fire pit. There were no other cars, and the Aston looked out of place encircled by the ten, rustic, wooden cabins of the Sea Stacks. Like all the other wood structures in Sitka's Quay, they were covered in weather-grayed siding and moss-infested shingles. A picnic table stained with bird droppings stood in front of each one. Beyond lay a circle of mostly empty RV hookups.
The sandy beach was perfect for kite flying and sand castle building in the summer, but now it looked dreary and dark as the rest of town.
"I need to take a piss."
Jonah pointed to the centrally located concrete building. "Can you make it?"
"Yeah."
"Thank the Gods for that."
Oliver went inside. The concrete flooring smelled of salt water and stalled sewage. He pushed open the stall trying to ignore the wolf spiders that infiltrated the building, hoping for some shelter from the weather.
Oliver did his business, crossed to Jonah's cabin and pushed the door open. It was furnished with bunk beds on one wall, and a full-size futon covered with Jonah's minus-zero sleeping bag. Old dirt lay in the crevices of the warped vinyl floor, and a grimy broom rested in the corner. Water, boiling on the wood stove, had the secondary effect of heating the small cabin. The single overhead light buzzed. Jonah had plugged in a heavy strip and surge protector into the only electrical outlet connected to his phone, tablet, laptop, and a few devices he didn't recognize.
Jonah threw the sleeping bag on the bunk bed. "Have a seat."
Oliver wiped off as best as he could and scraped his boots on the mat. "I've never stayed in these cabins. Before I bought the townhouse, we always stayed at one of the B&B's—my mother's choice."
"Yeah, I wanted some peace and quiet. Figured a place like this, I would be left alone as long as I paid the rent. I know it's not much, but it's not the worst place I have slept."
Touching the dusty futon frame with his finger, Oliver asked, "You brought Sammy here?"
"Uh, no, she invited me over to her house." Jonah set a mug of tea in front of him. "Drink it. It's herbal."
Oliver shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. The herbs—lavender—smelled good, but tasted flowery on his tongue. "All damn sorcerers have their own recipes."
The ghostly memory of his first conversation with Jonah flooded back through him and became solid.
"My mother taught me this. It will break up the lactic acid in your muscles," Jonah said.
Oliver smirked at the magic explained with faux-science. "And Dayla's mother taught her." He took another sip of the relaxing blend. His muscles untwisted. He downed the tea.
"Do you mean you slept in worst places when you were in Iraq or in the States?"
"Iraq. Most of the time we were in the base, but when my unit moved we slept wherever: on the ground, in heavy camouflage behind enemy lines. We were endlessly traveling, I learned to sleep everywhere."
"How'd you deal with it?"
"Between coffee, adrenaline, and just heading out of my teens, I always felt sharp. Everyone was in the same boat."
"Why did you enlist?"
"GI Bill. Came home, went to college. I don't regret going, but I wish something I did made people's lives better. We just messed it up worse."
"How can you say..."
Jonah stiffened.
Dread cemented Oliver to his seat.
"Because our translator, his wife and daughter were murdered after our government denied him a visa. He's fucking dead and his family is fucking dead because he helped us. A little kid, no different than Katie, murdered."
The atoms surrounding Jonah displaced and Oliver peered into the veil of his existence. He wanted to close his eyes to the explosions, the broken bodies, and other horrors Jonah witnessed.
"Dayla has the power to stop all of this," Jonah said.
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