Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (11 page)

“Why did you leave? Where were you going?” Erin brushed the tears away from her face.

Gwen looked at Matt, who had just reached them. “I thought Matt was going to die like Daddy,” she whispered.

“Hey, I’m not going to die,” Matt said.

Erin bit back a sob and took Gwen from Gary’s arms. She hugged her close and said, “Don’t ever run away again. Matt’ll be okay. Now, what about your ankle?”

“I think I broke it.”

Erin put her on the ground and looked at her swollen ankle.

“I’d say you sprained it,” Erin said. “We can wrap it with the ace bandage I have in the car.” She looked up at Gary. “Thank you for finding her.”

“No problem. Glad to help,” Gary said.

“Would you mind carrying her back to the car?”

“Of course not.”

Gwen wrapped her arms around Gary’s neck as he picked her up.

They all got into the car and headed back to the ferry. The shadows were growing long as they pulled into the line of cars at the terminal.

The ferry was on time, and the ride home was much more subdued than it had been in the morning. They were drained. Gwen sat curled up next to Gary, Erin on his other side, and Jacob and Matt sat nearby talking and reading comic books. Erin fell asleep with her head on Gary’s shoulder until the captain announced their arrival at Anacortes.

The wait in the hospital emergency room didn’t take long. The X-ray showed Matt’s arm was broken, but besides some nasty bruises and scrapes that was his only injury. Once his cast was on, and the doctor and nurses had signed it, they were ready to go.

They trudged back to the car in the dark, worn out and famished.

Matt said, “It’s still my birthday. Let’s stop for pizza.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Gary said.

The pepperoni never tasted better at Vince’s Pizzeria, and Erin felt better with food in her stomach. The drive home was much more cheerful than the ferry ride had been. They dropped Jacob off at his house and drove to Erin’s, where she helped the children into the house while Gary lifted the bikes down from the top of the car.

Stars were bright as Erin went back outside to find Gary waiting for her, leaning against his car, his form a silhouette against the streetlight in the distance.

“I’m so sorry about Matt. I feel completely responsible. If I hadn’t encouraged the idea, or if I’d ridden behind the boys, this never would have happened,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not to blame—don’t even think that. It was Matt’s idea, and I’m the one who said it was all right. And what would I have done without you there?” Erin couldn’t help but catch her breath as she said this, and she wiped a tear from her cheek.

Gary took hold of Erin’s arm and pulled her close. He wrapped his arm around her neck, rested his head on top of hers, and said, “It must have been a terrible day for you.”

“Don’t, you’ll just make me feel sorry for myself.”

He pulled her around to face him and held her arms, then bent his head and kissed her lips softly. She wrapped her arms around his back and relaxed her body against his.

“Ohhh,” Gary moaned, turning his face away but holding her closer. “I’d better go before I’m not able to.”

“It’s so late,” Erin said. “I have a guest room. You can stay here if you like.”

He laughed. “No, I’d be in your bed for sure. And I know you’re not ready for that.”

Erin felt a thrill run through her, but she knew he was right.

His cell phone rang, and he looked at it and scowled, then glanced at Erin. “This’ll just be a minute.”

“Yeah?” he answered the phone and listened. “They won’t budge?” Erin heard the angry voice of the man on the other end of the line. Gary walked a few steps away.

“Calm down. Look, all right. I’ll get it cleared up at the meeting. I’m heading back right now,” Gary said.

The other voice spoke more quietly; Gary’s eyes traveled from the ground to Erin’s face. He turned away. “There’s no risk. I need to find out.” He paused, listening again. “You’re overreacting. Shit, I’ll take care of it.” He disconnected.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

Gary put a smile on his face. “Yeah. That was my business partner—he always overreacts. Sorry about that.”

He kissed her again. “Thanks for letting me come.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Me too. I’ll call you this week.” He climbed into his SUV and drove away. A crow landed in the driveway where his car had been and let out one loud caw before it flew away. After that, the night was still.

Chapter 14

The bell jingled above the door of the bookstore as Michael opened it and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. He’d just made the final arrangements for his book signing to be held in a couple of days, and he started the long walk back home. A few scattered clouds dotted the sky, a light breeze stirred the blossoming trees, and it was a perfect day for a walk.

As he drew near the music store, he thought about the women he and Bruce had noticed the other day. One of them had gone into that shop.
Did she work there?
He opened the door and walked inside.

Instruments hanging from the walls and rows of sheet music crowded the store. A few customers were browsing through the music, one teenage boy was tuning a guitar, and the sound of a piano came from a back room. He glanced around but didn’t see the woman anywhere. What was it about her that had seemed so familiar? He started looking at guitars against the back wall. A man with wire-rimmed glasses and a thin gray ponytail walked down the stairs and asked a customer if he could help her.

The piano music stopped and some muffled voices came from the back room. A door opened, and there she was coming out of the room, saying goodbye to a teenage girl. He recognized her—a petite woman with pale blue eyes and dark hair. She was the same woman they’d followed, and the same one who had spilled coffee on him on the ferry. His eyes widened; she was also the woman in his dreams—the one who’d watched while he and Gary Arthur had argued in the forest. She was the same one in the cavern with Bagley. She was a viator. He was sure of it.

He turned away and studied the guitar in front of him while watching her out of the corners of his eyes until she finished talking to the girl and went back into the room by herself. The sound of melancholy piano music came through the door.
What was it?
Schubert?
He listened for several minutes to the gentle melody before walking out of the store and up the street. The music ran through his thoughts. He’d been having dreams about Anacortes for months but hadn’t seen this woman in his dreams until recently. Seeing a viator during the day was unusual, yet he had been drawn here, right where this one lived.
Why?
He walked past a bakery and saw that it served espresso, so he turned around and went back.

He pushed open the door and went inside where the aroma of fresh baked bread made him realize he’d missed lunch. Another customer completed her purchase, and Michael asked the man behind the counter for a latte and a loaf of Italian olive bread to take home.

“Hannah,” the man called toward the back of the store. “Por favor, make a latte for this gentleman?”

A tall blonde dressed in overalls and a T-shirt came out wiping her hands and smiled at him. “Hi,” she said. “What size?”

“Grande, please,” he said. “Or do you just call it a medium?” He smiled. He’d seen her before too—she was the viator’s friend. He shook his head slightly, surprised at the coincidence that had brought him into her shop.

“Grande, medium, they both work for me,” she said with a grin, and she brewed his espresso and steamed the milk. “Say, are you new in town? I’ve seen you around before, haven’t I?”

“You may have,” Michael said, “but I am new.”

“Welcome to Anacortes. What do you think so far?” she asked and handed him his drink.

“I’m … intrigued.” Michael sipped his latte.

She gave him a puzzled expression while she washed her hands and dried them on her apron. “Intrigued? With Anacortes? Why?”

“It’s not what I expected.”

She laughed. “Welcome anyway. My name’s Hannah, and this is my husband Carlos.” Carlos was on the other side of the room helping another customer, and he nodded his head toward them.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Michael.”

Hannah squinted at him. “Michael Woodward the author?”

“Yes.”

“It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve read all your books—they’re great—so suspenseful. My friend Aleesha is so excited you’ve moved here. I can’t wait to tell her I’ve already met you. She’ll be so jealous.”

“I’m glad you like my work. Thank you,” he said, surprised and flattered. He hadn’t expected anyone to have heard of him here.

“Oh, yes. Aleesha first told me about your books, and I’ve read them all. Aren’t you doing a book signing at Blue Heron soon? Aleesha said something about it.”

“Yes, Saturday at two o’clock.” He wondered who Aleesha was, if she might be the viator.

Three more customers came into the shop and looked at the display cases. Hannah glanced at them.

“Are you and your husband planning to come?” Michael asked.

“I will, but Carlos will be working. Aleesha and Erin are coming, though,” Hannah said.

“Erin?” he asked.

She grinned. “Another friend.”

One of the women who entered the store looked at Hannah. “I think we’ve decided,” she said.

Michael lifted his latte. “Thanks for this and the bread. Hope I see you Saturday.” He caught Carlos’s eye. “Buenos tardes.” Carlos smiled and nodded.

“Bye. Nice to meet you,” Hannah called after him as he walked out the door.

Michael sipped his latte and walked slowly up the street toward home.
Coincidences?
So the woman is a viator, and she lives here.
He wondered if he would meet her in their dreams again.

Chapter 15

Erin sat on a grass-covered hill above a wide, slow-moving river. The stars were bright in the darkening sky, the air smelled sweet, and she could see flickering lights from the village on the far bank. She felt drawn to those lights, but knew she had to stay where she was and wait for the dreamer’s call. A breeze stirred the leaves on the trees behind her, and her skin prickled with a sudden chill. Beginning in the west, the stars disappeared as a coal black cloud advanced across the sky. The wind grew stronger, and Erin stood up.

Lightning lit up the western sky, and the roar of thunder traveled across the horizon like a log rolling downhill. The cloud had covered half the stars already when Erin heard the dreamer’s voice.

“Ayaaaa!” Erin heard it in her mind, and she turned toward his call and ran. She raced to the northwest, heading toward the cloud and the lightning, into the woods and away from the river. She leapt over a creek and heard the dreamer’s call again—closer.

“Where are you?” she called. The stars were nearly all covered now, and it was black under the trees.

She smelled the rotting scent of a mortifer and drew her sword.

“Where are you?” she called again.

“Here,” the man’s voice cried out. Erin heard a blow and a thud, and outrage filled her gut. The shadow had him. She rushed toward the sound and thrust her sword at the deep shade under a tree, but the mortifer stepped aside and swung its staff full force at her head. She blocked its blow and pushed it back against a tree, where the pressure of her sword against its staff held it firm.

“Where is he?” she demanded. The shadow’s eyes gleamed, but it said nothing. She swung her sword around, freeing his staff for a moment, and the shadow whipped the weapon above its head with both arms for a deadly blow. Erin twirled, avoiding the full force of the staff, but it slammed into her shoulder, and she fell forward, dropping her sword with a gasp. She rolled, and the staff missed her and hit the ground hard. She leapt to her feet and pulled her knife from her boot, sweeping it toward the mortifer’s face. It danced backwards while she advanced. When it lifted its staff overhead, she moved in closer with her knife. Its eyes glowed red flame. “You’re lost, Viator. You are ours now.” It swung its weapon again, and Erin reached up to block the blow with her left arm while she thrust her knife upwards. She heard a crack and pain shot down her arm, almost bringing her to her knees, but her knife pierced through, and the mortifer howled. It backed away, turned and fled.

Erin tried to follow but stumbled with pain. Her eyes blurred. She shook her head and slowly stood up, shivering with the cold. The words of the shadow and the pain left her shaken and dazed. She slid her knife back into her boot, and then looked around for her sword. It was a distance away—she picked it up and slid it into its sheath. She had to find the dreamer. With the mortifer gone, the forest wasn’t as dark, and she called out, “It’s gone now—where are you?”

“Here,” said a muffled voice, and Erin moved in its direction.

“You are safe now. Come out,” she called. “Look for a lantern—there should be one nearby.”

A light flared from behind a fallen tree a short distance away, and a young man stood, holding the lantern. His eyes were wide, and he looked toward her expectantly. “Erin? Thank God—I hoped it was you. It’s Paul, from the bridge.”

“Are you all right?” She rushed to him.

“Just scared. Well, and I have a nasty bump where that monster clubbed me.” He rubbed his head and whispered, “You were fighting that thing.”

“Yes, it’s gone now. Do you remember what I told you before?” she asked as she gently felt the lump on his head. She saw that now she was wearing a long, shimmering white gown.

He nodded.

She rested her hand on his wound for a moment and continued, “You should feel better soon.”

Paul closed his eyes. “Thank you for coming again.”

“Remember your own power in your dreams. You can change things.”

“It’s hard to remember that when a monster jumps in front of you.”

“Nevertheless, it’s true. I suggested you’d find a lantern, and you did. You believed me and made the lantern appear. And you see my dress? You imagine me this way. This is how I look to you.”