Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

“William?” she whispered. It became dark, then light again. Where was he? “William?” she said again.

She turned and he was there, still strapped in.

“William!” she yelled. “We’ve got to get out of the car. Wake up.”

He didn’t move.

She caught her breath and reached toward him, felt warm wetness, and saw that the roof of the car was smashed in even further on his side.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. The light faded again, and she fought to stay conscious. “Help him,” she sobbed, but blackness overwhelmed her.

Erin felt cold, and when she opened her eyes, all she could see was foggy darkness. The pain was gone. She lay on the cold, soft ground and smelled the damp earth as she rose to her knees and stood up. She peered around hoping to see something, and the fog gradually began to clear. A faint light grew in the distance, silhouetting the tall shapes of the trees and brush surrounding her. Fog drifted away in wisps, curling around the trees; everything was misty and blurred. She walked a few steps toward the distant light and saw William standing alone, facing her. He turned around and walked away.

“Wait for me,” she called as she rushed after him. She was barefoot, but the ground was smooth and cushioned her steps. The gray fog swirled around so she couldn’t see very far. She followed William for a long time, losing him and then finding him again, but no matter how fast she went she couldn’t catch up. Still she hurried on, and her tears mingled with the wet of the fog on her face. Her hair and clothes grew damp. She called out his name over and over. The cold intensified, and she shivered as she walked.

When she heard the gurgling of running water up ahead, she started to run. The fog still clung around her, but William was far ahead, making his way toward the water.

“Come back,” she sobbed. “William, come back!”

She reached the river. It was about thirty feet to the far shore, and the water was quick and deep in places, rushing over the rocky bottom. Large stones were scattered across, and the fog had lifted enough so she could see the other side. William was there, already walking away from her.

“Wait for me,” she called again as she stepped onto one of the slick stones. Her foot slipped into the icy water, and she almost fell. Carefully she made her way across, balancing on the boulders when she could, fighting against the current up to her knees in places where there were no stones. She finally leapt onto the far bank, wet, cold and shaking. The light was brighter there, but she could no longer see William. She climbed up the bank away from the river and went deeper into the forest.

“Where are you?” Tears streamed down her face. She’d come so far, how could she lose him now?

She strained to see further through the trees, and in the growing light she saw him far ahead. He had stopped and was talking to someone—a man. She called out his name again, and this time he turned around. He saw her.

“Come to me,” she called. William hesitated, and she called again. But the other man spoke to him, and William turned from her and walked away.

She ran to catch up with him, but the ground was rough and full of roots and loose stones. She stumbled and fell. As she rose from the ground, looking around for him again, she called out, “Where are you?”

“I’m here,” said a hollow voice nearby.

Erin turned toward the sound. “Where is William?”

The shape of a tall man covered in darkness, like a great shadow, grew out of the ground, and the scent of decay wafted toward her. She stepped back.

“Who? William? I don’t know William. But you … what can I do with you?” It laughed—a gurgling, hollow sound—and it moved toward her.

The thing was like ice. Erin felt the cold spread from it and creep up her legs. It was freezing her. She shivered, and her teeth chattered. Its stench was nauseating. Hope drained out of her, leaving only numbness.
Where was William?
That question began to lose its meaning.
What did that thing say? What can it do with her?

She looked at the huge shadow and saw its fiery eyes study her. It murmured, “You killed him. You can’t save him now. He’s gone forever into torment, and you sent him there. You’ll never see him again. You’re slow and weak and utterly useless.”

Erin’s head drooped, and she fell to her knees in the dirt. She had failed. She had lost William. He was gone forever, and she could do nothing to help him now. She felt her strength drain away and her will crumble. She was going to be sick.

The shadow laughed again, low and long, and it moved closer to her. Her skin hurt from the cold. It reached out toward her, and she lifted her head again and saw hunger in its eyes.

“No!” she screamed and struggled to her feet. “Don’t touch me. Get away from me.”

She backed away from it, but still it came toward her, laughing with its hollow voice.

“Get away,” she screamed again, and she struck it with her fist. It staggered back, and she advanced toward it and struck it again and again. Her hands froze, but the creature fell back onto the ground, and Erin turned and ran. When she reached the river, she stopped and looked back but didn’t see the shadow following. She scrambled over the ford and climbed up the far riverbank, where the thick fog felt like a blanket of protection. She collapsed onto the grass and lay there for a long time.

Erin felt a hand touch the back of her head, and she jolted upright. A man knelt beside her, surrounded by the swirling fog. His dark brown clothes were the same color as his eyes and hair, and his youthful face was clean-shaven. She backed away from him.

“It’s all right,” he said, his eyes calm. “I won’t harm you.”

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“Conn. I’d like to ask for your help. Many need it.”

Erin shook her head, and tears washed down her face. “I can’t help anyone. I’ve failed. I couldn’t bring William back, and he’s lost. I’m lost.”

He reached out to her and held her hands. He was warm. “William is gone, but you have not failed. You fought and crossed back over the river. You are strong, Erin. And you can do more. I see so much mercy inside you, stronger than a sword. Where there’s mercy, you’ll find hope. Come with me now, and I will show you what you can do. Come with me for William’s sake.”

*****

Erin spread her palms over the grave and murmured, “I’m so sorry, William.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “I’m so sorry I left you there. If I made it back, you could have, too.” She wiped away the tears from her cheeks and kissed the grass on his grave. A tremor shook her. The wind blew through her hair as she walked back to her car and drove the rest of the way home.

Chapter 19

The alarm woke her at six-thirty, and Erin switched it off and climbed out of bed. After a night of dreamless sleep, she felt more rested than she had in a long time. She hummed while drying her hair and putting on her makeup. After she slipped on a lavender dress, she twirled around and watched her reflection in the mirror, smiling at how the dress floated around her legs. With strappy sandals and a white jacket, she felt ready for the day and checked to see if the kids were ready, too.

Gwen and Matt were in good moods as well. Erin dropped them off at school and headed to work, and even though it was Monday, she expected a good day.

She unlocked the shop, flipped on the lights, and started dusting the shelves and instruments, humming as she made her way through the building. After everything was tidied up, she entered her studio and began making selections of sheet music for her students. She sat down at the piano and played a few of the songs she was considering. Ed arrived and came in to say hello.

“Erin, you look nice today. I like that piece you were playing.”

“Thank you,” she said. “It’s for one of my students. I think it’ll be challenging but not too hard.”

He nodded and looked at her quizzically. “You must have had a good night’s sleep—or something. You’ve got a new man in your life, don’t you? Is he in town?”

Erin laughed. “I do, but he’s not in town now.”

The morning passed quickly, and at twelve-thirty Aleesha called to remind her to come to the gallery. Erin pulled on her jacket and started to walk the five blocks to the house Aleesha had converted into her gallery.

A red Lexus pulled alongside her as she walked, and the passenger called out, “Hello there!”

Erin turned. It was the man who had been with Michael Woodward at the bookstore. Michael was driving. She stopped. “Hi. Are you on your way to the gallery?”

“Yeah. How about if we park and walk with you?” he said.

“Sure. It isn’t far.”

Michael angled his car into a spot, and the two men got out.

“It’s nice to see you again.” In his jeans and black T-shirt, Michael looked more casual than he had at the bookstore. “I don’t think you’ve met my brother. This is Bruce. Bruce, this is Erin Holley.”

“My pleasure,” Bruce said as he reached out his hand to hers. She could see the family resemblance. He wasn’t as tall and had lighter hair, but he had the same broad cheekbones. He looked as if he smiled often, and he grinned broadly as he looked her up and down.

She laughed. “I’m happy to meet you. Did you move to Anacortes, too?”

“Hardly. I live in Portland—just came up here to see what Michael had gotten himself into. I’ll be going back home Wednesday. What about you? Have you always lived here?”

“No, I grew up in Seattle. My grandparents lived here though. When they died, they left me their house, and I’ve lived here for the last ten years with my son and daughter.”

Bruce threw a questioning glance at Michael, who returned the look with raised eyebrows.

“And your husband?” Michael asked.

She pushed her hair back from her shoulders. It had been a long time since she had said the words. She spoke softly. “My husband died two years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael frowned and looked away.

“Well, I don’t have any children,” Bruce said. “They must keep you awfully busy. How old are they?”

“Twelve and seven.” She looked at Michael. “How about you? Any children?”

Bruce answered for him. “No, his son drowned in a boating accident five years ago.”

Erin gasped. “I’m so sorry.” She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes.

Michael smiled at her. “Thanks.”

They walked the last few steps up to the gallery entrance and went inside. It was well lit, and Aleesha had spread a buffet table full of delectables. Several of her best clients had been invited to enjoy her hospitality and meet Michael, and a few guests were already there, looking around at the art and snacking on finger food. Aleesha came to meet them at the door. Her dark hair was smoothed behind her ears, held in place by a small red carnation.

“Come in. I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, reaching out her hand to Michael.

“Thanks for inviting me. I brought my brother, who’s visiting for a few days. I hope you don’t mind. This is Bruce—Bruce this is Aleesha.”

Bruce stepped forward and reached for Aleesha’s hand with both of his. He clasped it and said, “I saw you at the bookstore and hoped I’d have a chance to meet you. When Michael told me about your invitation today, I knew I had to come.”

Aleesha caught her breath and stood very still. He held tight to her hand, and she said, “My pleasure.”

Michael rested his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Let’s see if Aleesha will show us around.”

She pulled her hand away. “I’d love to. Please, come over here. I have several pieces by this artist—he’s one of my favorites.” She led them away from the door, then turned back and said to Erin, “You look divine. I love your dress. Will you come with us?”

“Not yet. I’m going to grab a bite first.”

Erin headed to the buffet table where she helped herself to a couple of tea sandwiches and celery. Past her regular lunchtime, she felt a bit lightheaded. As she munched the celery, she looked around to see if Hannah had arrived, but she wasn’t there. Some music store customers were there, though, so she walked over to a group admiring several fine antique Native American baskets. Aleesha had already told her a lot about their history, so she passed on her information to the group.

As they began to move to another display, someone grabbed her elbow. She turned and was surprised to see Michael.

“Are you an expert in Indian basketry? You made it sound not just interesting, but exciting.”

She gave a short laugh. “Thank you. But I’m no expert. Aleesha likes to keep her friends informed.” She glanced around the room for Aleesha and saw her in a far corner talking with Bruce.

“Have you had any lunch? The buffet is excellent,” she said.

“No, not yet.” They walked together to the table.

Michael helped himself to some of the food and asked her to show him her favorite pieces in the gallery. Erin led him to a painting of a raven she and Hannah had studied a few days before.

“I love this one. It’s by Daniel Frank, a Native American artist here in the Northwest. Aleesha has several more paintings he’s done, but I like this one best. Raven—he’s a trickster, but he’s the one who put the sun, moon, and stars in the sky.”

Michael nodded and studied the painting. “The power of the raven really comes through in this painting. Raven medicine is like shining a light into another person’s head and heart.”

“You know the myths,” she said.

“A few.”

Erin was surprised. She looked back at the painting and studied the eyes of the raven, which seemed to look back at her. A fine mist of sweat broke out on her forehead, and she wiped it away.

“Would you like to see more of his work? Aleesha has the rest of his paintings in this room,” she said.

She led him through a nearby doorway into a smaller room. It was filled with paintings, sculptures, and more basketry. Another couple left the room as they entered.

“What are your favorites in here?” Michael asked.

Erin showed him a smooth, nearly white stone sculpture of an owl. She reached out and caressed it, letting her palm and fingers linger on its surface. “It feels wonderful. The stone is so smooth and cold.”