Crow - The Awakening (2 page)

The bluff overlooking the homestead was well illuminated by the full moon. Even so, the forest and underbrush created a dark wall around the little clearing by the edge. A shadow coalesced from the darkness and moved without a sound to the edge of the bluff like a dark vapor. The tendrils of the vapor settled into a robe that rested on a still figure that could have been a statue as it stared down at the homestead below. There were lights on and movement in the large cob home down there. The last remnants of the tremors that shook the earth were still reverberating, and the branches of the trees behind the stoic, dark figure were still shivering from the vibrations. The quake originated from the cozy home below, but had largely subsided now. The figure sighed and pulled his hood back, releasing an unruly mane of crystalline white hair that could have been fine strands of glass that rustled in the breeze. His jaw was stern and square, his countenance as white as his hair, and it gleamed as if chiseled from the whitest of marble. "It happened again," he whispered, his voice no more than a soft breath and yet clear as a bell.

A clump of underbrush burst to life and a massive dark creature covered with glistening black fur erupted silently and landed beside the man, who didn't flinch at the sudden intrusion. For a moment it looked like a enormous, black wolf crouching there. The creature rose up from a crouch and shook itself, taking the form of a large man covered from head to clawed toe with thick, black fur under a spare black leather outfit. He stood in the moonlight with a fierce expression on his face as he contemplated the homestead. As his sharp teeth flashed in the moonlight, the creature stepped closer to the precipice of the cliff, crouched slightly, and grabbed a sapling as he leaned over the edge, glaring down at the humble collection of farm buildings. "We must collect him now." The words were barely a silent growl.

"It is too soon, Migalo." The whisper came from the forest, seemingly from the trees and bushes, as soft as the leaves rustling in the slight breeze. Another figure emerged from the darkness, as if from a pool of water, passing smoothly through the underbrush that seemed to caress her longingly. A lithe human form that seemed as part of the forest as the trees and saplings walked lightly but purposefully into the moonlight to stand beside the other two. She stood easily as tall as the others. Her skin was covered with the shortest of fur that had an almost bark-like pattern, clearly visible in the bright moonlight. She wore a short top and long shorts that mirrored that pattern. And framing her face was a shock of short, unkempt hair that likewise retained the same bark pattern. Her hair still had leaves and pine needles from the forest clinging to it. It was as if the forest itself had directly given birth to her.

"We must leave this place. We are making it worse." Her large, gentle eyes peered into those of the statuesque figure who still stared emotionless at the homestead below. "Lohet, he is not ready yet," she insisted.

"We're running out of time, Penipe," the furry creature snarled at her. He shifted impatiently, baring his fangs at the thought of having to remain there any longer.

She barely glanced at her impatient friend, intent on Lohet instead.

"Migalo is right, Penipe." Lohet turned his expressionless eyes on her. He seemed to look through her as many millennia of thoughts and experiences played themselves out in his mind as he weighed the odds and forecasted the consequences of their actions. Penipe couldn't help but marvel as she gazed into his face that appeared like a living sculpture. She fought the urge to touch it. "The longer we wait, the greater the danger." His attention came back to the present and his eyes truly looked at her.

"What good is the fruit if picked too early?" A singsong voice floated out of the forest behind them. A slight figure hovered on the edge of the forest, just out of the light of the moon.

"Sirel, you of all people know what is at stake." Migalo looked at the small shadow angrily then sulked, knowing she was right. He looked back at the homestead then silently moved toward the forest's edge. "We can't wait forever." He glared at Sirel as he circled around her, then looked back at Lohet. She grinned, winking playfully at him as he glowered by.

"If we stay here, it will just get worse. We must leave, now," Penipe repeated, pleading.

Sirel giggled and skipped into the moonlight, appearing all of an adolescent girl just entering her teens, and yet moving with the confidence and grace of a mature woman. She was dressed in long, flowing, silky robes that kissed the ground as she walked and her face was framed by a thick mane of curly red hair. None of the others knew exactly how old she was but she was easily much older than the ancient Lohet. "The men are bored, Penny. They just want to play." She grabbed Lohet's cold white hand and tried to pull him into a dance. Lohet looked sternly at her for a moment, then relenting, he grinned. He found her touch electrifying and it brought him back to the now. Moonlight glinted off his sharp canines as his smile widened. Sirel was the playful one even in the most serious of times. He admired that in her, given the tragic history of her people.

"Okay. That's enough, my dear Sirel." He looked back at the homestead, "We will wait. But not for much longer." Lohet suddenly disappeared from Sirel's playful grasp, moving as quickly and quietly as a shadow to the edge of the wood. Migalo growled from the forest's edge and disappeared into the wood silently, sullen at all the waiting they were forced to endure. Lohet watched him leave, looked back at the other two for a moment, then melted into the darkness like a vapor. Penipe and Sirel looked back at the house. The ground vibrated almost imperceptibly.

"He's dreaming again." Penipe knelt down, touched the ground with her hands, and concentrated hard. She could feel the effect their close proximity was having on the boy. Sirel leaned against her, playing with a leaf she plucked from Penipe's hair. Penipe gasped slightly. "The deviant is on the verge of another incident."

"Then it's time to go, Penny," Sirel whispered in her singsong voice. With a quiet whoosh she abruptly ascended into the dark sky without another word. Penipe stood up and watched her disappear into the star studded heavens above. After a final look at the homestead, she returned to the shadows. Vines and branches reached out from the undergrowth as she approached the wood, receiving her as if receiving their own. Then quite suddenly, the bluff was empty and quiet again.

The harvest was starting to dwindle. The end of the season was seeing flowers starting to thin out, which meant less honey. It hadn't started getting really cold yet, but the nights were getting much cooler. Of course, in the hill country at this time of year, snow was just a quick cold front away, though it usually waited until December. Steven pulled a flatbed cart behind a little farm tractor back from the bee yard. On it he had stacked a few white wooden bee boxes, all covered with canvas to keep the bees out. They were very heavy with honey and Steven had to harvest them frame by frame. He wore a veil, but the bees he tended never really bothered him - the veil was more for the comfort of his godfather who couldn't approach the hives without a full suit. He grinned at that thought, feeling special.

His thoughts meandered to his biological parents as Steven drove across the farm back to the little cob shed he and Jonah had set up to be his honey house. He had never known them since they went missing when he was still an infant and his godparents had adopted him. No pictures existed of them, even. The only thing he knew was at one time they were really good friends, and quite suddenly his parents met some mysterious calamity that had yet to have been fully explained to him. He resented that, as much as he liked his godparents. Steven felt that he had a right to know. Is anyone trying to find them, or did anyone try when they first went missing? He had seen no hint of any sort of search and he wondered if, after ten years, they would ever be found.

The tractor jostled as it passed over one of the cattle guards on their farm that allowed access to their modest pastures. The jolting woke Steven from his thoughts. He had done this so many times that often he would go on automatic pilot as he drove to and from the house to the fields. He was getting close to their little cob and timber frame barn.

While most of his peers loathed the homestead chores their parents had given them, Steven had taken the initiative himself to manage hives his godfather would have otherwise gotten rid of. He didn't really get an allowance - their farm life wasn't that lucrative. But the honey he sold from the hives more than made up for that. And that money was what he needed to try to get answers about his parents that he'd not been able to get from anyone in town or from his godparents.

After he backed the trailer into the barn, he unhitched it and drove the tractor out so his godfather could use it out in their gardens. He thought about extracting the honey, but it was nearly time for market so there was not enough time for him to process these boxes right away. They would have to wait until later. But he already had a few cases of honey bottled up and ready for the sale sitting in the bed of the truck anyway. He was eager to get to his booth at the market and start making sales. He was amazed at how popular his honey had gotten and thrilled to have that income. Most kids in the area subsisted on meager allowances.

Steven was preparing that day's lunch for market when his godparents finally dragged themselves out of bed. It wasn't all that late, though. He always was the early riser of the family, getting his chores done ahead of breakfast so he'd have the rest of the day to do things he wanted to do. Last night's events didn't help any, however. They must have been up late last night cleaning from the tremor because he didn't see any of the mess. Sally reached up into the hanging egg basket, grabbed a few of the eggs Steven had collected that morning, pulled a large ceramic bowl down from the shelf over their gas stove, and began preparing breakfast. She bumped into Steven with her hip as he tried to move out of her way, making him giggle, then she turned and gave him a big, spontaneous hug.

"How are you doing, pumpkin?" She ruffled his black curly hair and looked at him, smiling. There was a glint of worry in her eyes, however.

"Better." Steven smiled. As nightmares go, last night's was fairly typical for him.

She gave him a kiss on the forehead and smiled back at him for a moment. "Way better?" He nodded. She grinned at him and turned back to cracking the eggs into her mixing bowl. "I hope you're hungry."

"Oh yeah," Steven said excitedly. He was famished. He took a jar of dried mushrooms down from the shelf and put them next to her. The best eggs always have a bit of fungus in them, he thought to himself, smiling. Then he went out to the porch and brought in that morning's harvest of miner's lettuce. After rinsing it off, he put the bowl on the counter next to where Sally was cooking. Grabbing a handful of the greens, he started chopping it for the eggs. He liked cooking breakfast with his godmother.

It didn't take him long to finish gathering and preparing the various ingredients they like in their morning eggs. Satisfied, Steven wiped his hands and sat down on a large hand hewn bench at the heavy picnic style wooden table that Jonah had made by milling trees from the farm. He played absentmindedly with the grain of the redwood. "Can I go to Brandon's after market?" He hadn't seen his friend in town for a few weeks since he spent part of his time in their primary mansion in Seattle.

"Are his parents going to be home?" Sally looked over her shoulder at him while she whisked the eggs. Steven hesitated and she turned to look at him.

"Uhm..." Steven didn't know but really wanted to avoid that question. Sally never let him go over to Brandon's if his parents weren't there. "...they might. It's the weekend."

"We'll see." She poured the eggs into a heavy iron skillet and started stirring them as they scrambled while she adjusted the flame of the stove with her free hand. The vintage gas stove still seemed almost too modern for the kitchen that consisted of a lot of hand milled wood, cob construction, cast iron shelf supports, and rough slate floor tiles. A wood stove would probably have fit in better, and Jonah would have preferred it. But then, Sally ruled the kitchen. She glanced at him as she poured the scrambled eggs into the ceramic bowl and top-dressed them with some fresh goat cheese.

Steven pouted. 'We'll see' usually meant 'no.' "We're just going to look at his comic books." Mostly, he thought to himself. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"And get on their computer?" Sally brought over the bowl of steaming scrambled eggs just as Jonah came back into the kitchen with a tin of home grown dried figs from the root cellar. He put it on the table and tied back his long, black hair. He grinned at Sally and winked at Steven. Jonah grabbed some glasses from the shelf and placed them on the table while he listened in on the discussion.

"No," Steven answered too quickly. Sally already knew, and he knew that she knew. Jonah smiled at him, shaking his head. He knew, too, and that just made Steven more frustrated. "We only play games anyway." Well, not exactly, but that's what Brandon always wanted to do so it wasn't an outright lie. "How much trouble can we get in just playing games?"

"Sorry, bub. No parents, no Brandon's." Jonah sat down next to Steven and passed him a plate. Like the bowls, the plates were hand turned ceramic from Sally's little pottery shop, glazed with abstract designs with a decidedly Native American motif.

Steven was exasperated at the same old losing battle. What could they possibly do that could warrant his godparent's unreasonable fear of computers? "But Jonah, we don't do anything that's dangerous. Just games and stuff."

"And stuff." Jonah nodded, looking at Sally as she placed a pitcher of orange juice on the table and sat down. He waved the spoon for the eggs at Steven for emphasis. "I've told you before, I've been there and seen the crazy stuff that goes on. There's nothing safe about computers nowadays. Not even games." He spooned eggs onto his plate and piled some on Steven's plate and passed the figs to his adopted son.