“Asshole!” I hit his face hard with one of my pillows.
He grabbed onto the pillow and buried his face into it, taunting me. “Hmmm, smells like Micah.”
I took the pillow back and stuffed it behind me. “Give me back my Micah and go bury your nose in your Susan.”
“With pleasure, Kaitlyn. With pleasure.”
Set and Match
The next week with Alex went smoothly. The empty feeling in my gut due to Micah’s absence began to subside, for which I gave much credit to Alex. He kept me busy. It was better for both of us that way. In our down time I saw the shadows of pain and remorse creep into his face. He would start to flinch and jerk as painful memories surfaced. Then, suddenly, he’d jump up and announce another project for us to do. If not, I was more than ready to do it for him.
We quickly settled into a routine. In the mornings, Alex put me through a training routine similar to what I did with him before; exercise, various weapons training as well as martial arts. The only difference this time around was the doctor insisted on being present and stepped in when he thought the moves were too dangerous for a pregnant woman. In truth I was grateful, I didn’t necessarily look forward to being thrown around on the hard floor or lifting heavy things. I was getting lazy in my old age.
We spent our afternoons playing with the camera or experimenting in the darkroom. If there was time left before dinner we retreated to Cato’s library so I could research each of the subject areas suggested by Cato, Micah, and Susan. Alex always stayed close by, usually tinkering with his radios or some other type of equipment. Evenings were reserved for playtime; listening to music, playing card games, or going for walks were our usual modus operandi (a phrase often used by Alex).
We stayed up late each night, ensuring that by the time we went to bed we would be tired enough to fall asleep fast. It was a dangerous time of the day for us both, left in the dark with nothing but our own thoughts. My dream catcher was working, and thanks to my spell I often dreamt of my daughter. Sometimes she was a baby, newly born and seemingly fragile, but I knew better. Sometimes I dreamt of her as a fully grown woman, her face often changing to look more like my mother, my grandmother, Susan or me.
But one new, somewhat unsettling aspect to my dreams occurred almost nightly. Occasionally the dream would vibrate, hum from some outside force. The vibrations started small, but each night they grew more intense. I knew it was Shawn, trying to force his way in. One of these nights he would succeed. At Alex’s suggestion, I tried re-blessing the dream catcher. It helped for a couple nights but Shawn was slowly feeling his way around my guards, prodding their weaknesses.
I spent more and more time in the afternoons in the library, anxiously studying the sleep cycle and dream phenomenon, hoping to be able to hold my own when Shawn finally did break through. Thumbing through pages of books related to symbolism, I came across a few detailing the purpose and uses of the athame. Intrigued with the idea of using Shawn’s own weapon against him, I piled the books into my arms and plopped down at the base of the large tree in the library where Alex had a blanket spread out with various radio parts strewn all over.
“Make some room, will ya?” I frowned, pulling out a sharp, metal object from underneath me.
“Oh Kaitlyn,” Alex retorted while patting my belly. “The Chakra isn’t large enough to make room for you.”
I picked out the heaviest book I could find and bopped him on the head with it.
“Ow! What is this anyway?” He snatched the book from my hands and read the cover, “
Symbolism of Ritual Tools
.”
I took the book back. “Yeah, and any more remarks like that from you and I’ll make a symbol out of you.” As the words were coming out of my mouth, I immediately wished I could have come up with a better comeback.
He gave me a look of disapproval. “You can do better than that.”
I grumbled something about the lack of caffeine in my diet and buried my face in the large book, trying to ignore him. I opened it to the first chapter.
Whenever an athame is used in a ritual or spell, part of the energy wielded is absorbed into the handle through the blade. Thus, the athame slowly accumulates power, strengthening both itself and its owner. It is normally used to direct energy, command spirits and to make symbolic divisions. Some believe the athame shouldn’t be used to cut physical objects
(on cue, my shoulder tingled),
because cutting with it profanes the athame.
The athame, along with the wand, are tools that mostly wield male energy as well as the element of air. In fact, the two are often interchangeable although the wand is used to manifest change on the physical plane while the athame is used to manifest change on the higher or spiritual planes. These two realms can be interrelated
.
I pictured Shawn and Vayu side by side on a battlefield. Shawn with his athame, Vayu with his wand; an unstoppable team covering all of the dimensions. Other books contained instructions on how to use an athame, how to purify it, and how to absorb the energy from it.
Alex poked his head between the book and me. “What’ya reading?”
I quickly slammed the book shut. I didn’t want him to know just yet what my plans were. He certainly wouldn’t agree right away. The subject had to be brought up delicately. “Nothing.” I looked around for a distraction. “You have your little radio put together?”
“I’ll have you know my
little radio
, as you so affectionately put it, is an HF, frequency-hopping, encrypted communications systems.”
Distraction achieved.
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning that you can talk to Micah, even if he is thousands of miles away and it will be completely secure. More secure than our satellite communications anyway. Shawn might still have access to our satellite and even though he might not be able to decrypt it, we don’t want to take any chances.” He handed me the handset. “Want to try?”
“Oh, um. Not right now. Can we maybe try tomorrow?” I wasn’t prepared for a conversation with Micah yet. Knowing him, he’d be able to tell I was hiding things from him just by the tone of my voice.
“Sure.” He shrugged his shoulders and replaced the handset, face disappointed; maybe he was hoping to talk to Susan.
There was a momentary silence, and my eyes scanned his radio. Military classification markings were stamped on most of the parts. “Where did you get that anyway?”
“You’d be amazed at how much stuff you can walk away from the military with. Especially if you are the corporal in charge of the gear.”
“Okay, corporal. What else did you walk away with?”
Alex’s eyes lit up in a smirk. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
He led me back to the long hall of basement rooms. Some doors had security locks, others stood wide open. He stopped at one particularly heavy steel door, punched in a code, and pushed it open. My eyes went wide. The room was packed full of more radios and their various parts, but also had gas masks, batteries, all kinds of guns and ammunition, military uniforms, scuba gear and more. “Tell me you didn’t steal all of this!”
“No, only a few things. The rest I got at military surplus stores, gun shops.” Alex puttered around the room, pulling out and displaying his most prized possessions. “Some things might have been acquired by less than legal means. Cato has a few nefarious connections.”
“Now that, I believe.” Legal or not, there was some comfort in knowing we had a small arsenal a few floors under us.
We exited the room and as he punched in the code to activate the lock, I looked at some of the other doors. “What are all these other rooms?”
“Everyone has a personal lab.” He pointed as we walked past. “Susan’s room. She does experiments and testing with water in there. She keeps it locked saying it protects the validity of her experiments. Micah’s room. Never been used. And this is Vayu’s room. He didn’t ever lock it. Want to check it out?”
Alex pushed open the door, not waiting for my answer, and flipped on the lights. Mostly the room was filled with pamphlets; half of them packed away in boxes. I picked one up and began leafing through it while Alex looked at a series of papers on a clipboard.
“Looks like advertisements on how individuals can decrease air pollution.” I began to read some of the hints and tips aloud skipping over the details, “Limit driving or unnecessary idling, use environmentally friendly cleaners, participate in utility energy conservation programs, choose products that say ‘low VOC’, buy local produce… it says here that driving with your air conditioner on increases fuel consumption, but only at lower speeds. Windows down at high speeds makes A/C a better option, fuel-wise. Did Vayu put all this together himself?”
Alex nodded yes. “Some of our elementals choose to advocate their cause to politicians and environmental organizations. Others aim their efforts at the general population. Looks like Vayu was getting this all ready to ship out. He has mailing labels, packing lists, and everything is already postmarked.”
I picked up another brochure that talked about decreasing air pollutants inside homes by using certain plants.
NASA recommends 15 samples of a variety of plants for a house under 2,000 square feet to improve the air quality. Some of the best plants for this include aloe vera, English ivy, fig trees, spider plants, bamboo, lilies, pot mums, daisies, and mother-in-law’s tongue.
“I think we should finish the job for him.”
Alex thought for a moment then agreed, “I don’t see the harm in it. Besides, what else is there to do?”
We got to work following Vayu’s packing lists. The boxes were mostly being sent to health clinics, schools, libraries, and localized environmental advocates. Vayu’s organization made it easy and we were done in a matter of two hours. I couldn’t help but think he organized in such a way that someone else could take care of his tasks with relative ease in case of a quick exit.
As Alex taped up the last box, I mention, “Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“So?”
“So, I thought maybe we could take a break from our usual routine and try something different.” I traced my finger around one of the shipping labels, trying to look as casual as possible.
He frowned. “Tomorrow’s supposed to be the obstacle course. The doctor and I made a few adjustments to accommodate mommy-to-be.”
“Push it back a day.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at me with narrowed eyes. “What did you have in mind for tomorrow, exactly?”
“I came across some spells I want to try, but I need you there in case something goes wrong.”
“Kaitlyn, if something has the potential of going wrong then we shouldn’t do it.”
“Oh, you mean like the rope swing? Or the wall climb? Or are you talking about the stairway to heaven? Belay and safety nets or not, you can’t deny something could possibly go wrong with those.”
He hung his head in defeat. “Point taken.”
“Good. There is something I’ll need; maybe you know where it is.”
“What?”
“Shawn’s athame.”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “We are
not
messing with that thing. I saw what happened last time and you weren’t even touching it.”
“That’s just because I wasn’t prepared. And I wasn’t the wielder. It wouldn’t do that if I controlled it.”
“Micah would have both our heads–.”
“Micah doesn’t have to know. Besides, he isn’t here to help me and I can feel Shawn getting closer and closer. That athame has powers. I need that power to protect myself. I need to be one step ahead of him. He won’t suspect this.”