A Quarrel Called: Stewards Of The Plane Book 1 (29 page)

77. TARA

“Why are you so quiet?” G. asked.

I shifted on my butt, turning away from the approaching
storm to look at him. The sun glared down behind him, forming a sort of streaky
halo around his head. “I’m not sure what I am doing out here.”

“You’re here because we need you,” he said with finality, as
if it was obvious.

But it wasn’t. I got why G. was here – he was the Guardian
with his glow-in-the-dark light saber of thought. He was the protector. Sam was
here because he saw visions of the future. Melody was here because she had some
energy ability that wasn’t quite clear to me yet.
And Lily?
She was here because she’d shown up in my
boyfriend’s
dream
. Oh yeah, and Sam’s dream, too.
But me?
I answered questions posed to a cosmic
database in the sky. Why was I here? I could just as easily answer questions
over the phone.
Except there wasn’t any cell reception out
here.
But still.

“Sure,” I said. “If that’s true, then why wasn’t Esme in the
photo of their quarrel in Fredericksburg? She was the one taking the photo. If
it was important, if she was important to the task, then they would have found
a way for her to be in the photo too, right?”

“Maybe there was no one else around,” he said.

It was a reasonable assumption.
“Maybe.”

“Why the long face?” Gram asked, walking over.

I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t have to, because G.
opened up his big trap and let it all out.

Gram took a spot on the ground near me and leaned in close.
“You’re here because they need you.”

I sighed. It wasn’t a polite sigh either.

“Really, Tara.
The quarrel is made
up of four independent people.
Four purposes.
The
Sage,
The
Guardian, The Lantern, The Light. You are
the Sage.” She paused to draw a large circle on the ground with a stick. “This
is you.
The knowledge of the group.
The
brains of the operation, so to speak.”

G. nudged me on the shoulder, and I smiled for a small second.

Then Gram took the stick and drew a triangle within the
circle. “This is the Guardian. The Guardian is strong, very strong, and sharp,
like the point of the quarrel from which we get our name – an arrowhead shaped
like a pyramid that is affixed to a crossbow bolt. The Guardian flies straight
to the heart of the matter and deals with it directly. He protects the other
members of his quarrel. The Guardian is strength.” She paused to draw a square
within the triangle. “This is the Lantern,” she said. “The Lantern can see what
is in front, behind, and all around. Your Lantern is Sam. He has his dreams and
his messages. It is his job to see these things and evaluate them and tell you
what they mean. And the Lantern encloses the Light…
Melody.
She has the ability to sense and manipulate energy, but without the vision of
the Lantern, without the protection of the Guardian, without the Guidance of
the Sage, she knows not when her ability is needed, nor where.

“So what, I’m a glorified cheerleader?”

“You got part of that right,” Gram said with a sly sidelong
look.

“Which part?
Cheerleader?
Or
glorified?”

“Leader.”

I felt a shiver come over me at the gravity in her voice. I
could see a twinkle in her eye, but her expression was serious.

“Baloney,” I said.

“Just think about your role in the group so far,” she said.
“Would any of them be here if it weren’t for you?”

She got up, dusted off her shorts and walked back over to
the car where Sam and Melody were counting out several stacks of pogs. I
watched her retreating form and thought about what she said, prepared to
dismiss it.

“She’s right you know,” G. said. “Since the beginning, it’s
always been you.”

I turned to look at him then, his face close to mine, his
eyes dark like brown velvet, and I felt my heart skip a beat. He leaned in to
kiss me then, his lips firm and supple on mine, his hand snaking up around my
neck to
cup
the back of my head, fingers curling in
my hair.

“It’s always been you,” he breathed.

How he made me believe it.

78. G.

We buried the last of the pogs in an octagon around the
perimeter of the vortex and then dug a hole in the center, near an electrical
pole, for Melody’s black tourmaline chunks. She spread a thin layer of dirt
over the top so that it wouldn’t be too hard for her to stand on that spot in
her bare feet.

I kept an eye on Esme, if for no other reason than I didn’t
trust her, but she stayed pretty much out of our way. She was glancing up at
the sky a lot, and I wondered whether it was because the eclipse was about to
begin or because the thunderheads were nearly upon us.

I turned to watch the storm rolling in, and what had seemed
like nasty rain clouds from afar had turned out to be much more electric. There
were flashes of lightning buried in their midst, and the occasional streak tore
across the length as if it were going to rip the clouds apart. But there was no
thunder, and I found that very strange.

Tara came up to slip her sweaty, dirty hand in mine, and I
gripped it tight. The thought that something might happen to her tore me up,
but I knew my job out here right now was to protect the whole group, not just
one person, however important that one person might be to me.

“Good old-fashioned Texas heat lightning. Sometimes it’s too
blasted hot for there to be any rain.”

The wind was steadily gusting now, hot and dry across the
desert, I was surprised that it brought no relief from the heat. “It’s weird,”
I said finally, after taking a long swig from my water bottle. “Back home we
have killer thunderstorms… and tornadoes. And they are always loud and
majestic, and sometimes even frightening. This silence is unnerving.”

“Considering why we’re out here, I can see why you’d say
that.”

We watched as Gramps showed Melody how to connect the pogs
together in a sort of grid-like pattern forming
a
eight-pointed star with the buried tourmaline in
the middle, and for a moment, I thought the storm had changed its mind and
decided to rain down on us after all. But then I could pick the sound apart
from the wind and knew that what I was hearing was the rev of a
high-performance engine, not incoming rain.

Sam and Lily across the way leaned forward to look at the
oncoming vehicle, and something in Lily’s posture made me turn around to look
for myself. And then I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. “What the hell?”
I muttered under my breath.

Sam had come over to stand next to me. He clearly shared my
disbelief. “What the hell is he doing out here?” he said, as we both watched
the car slam to a rapid stop in front of the arrow building and pull roughly
into the gravel parking area out front.

“Maybe he wants revenge?” I asked, mystified, and starting
to feel the adrenaline begin to pump as I assessed the threat.

Lily walked over to join us, her hand sliding into Sam’s
just like Tara’s was in mine. “Who’s that?” she said, her voice flat. “I thought
this party was full.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said.

“Will one of you guys fill me in on what’s going on?” Tara
asked, now clearly confused and irritated at being left out of the loop.

I barely glanced at her as I replied, “Remember that thing
at the garage that one time and some guy’s car window got broken?”

She hissed in surprise. “Yes. So that’s him?”

“That’s him.”

“I’ve got this,” Lily said, beginning to pull away from Sam,
but he didn’t let go easily.

“Wait,” he said. “Just wait.”

“For what?”
I asked.

Sam shook his head and stayed silent.

Thompson came striding around the building, his dark
sunglasses resting on the top of his head, his expression was furious. He
stopped directly in front of me and stared me straight in the eye. “What are
you doing here?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Is this some sort of joke?”
He paid no mind to his companion who took a watchful stance behind him.

I gazed at him coolly, but beneath my calm exterior I was
burning up inside. Every instinct I had told me that this was all wrong, and
that this man and his friend, the same one from that fateful night at the
garage, were up to no good, and that they were a serious threat to what we were
doing, and to my friends.

“It’s no joke,” I said, staring him straight in the eye. I
let go of Tara’s hand and she stepped back a pace. “You aren’t welcome here,” I
said. “You should leave.”

Thompson threw his head back and laughed, and for just a
second, in the dimming light, in a brief flash of lightning, I thought I saw
something wrong with him.
Something strange about his eyes,
something off about his skin.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but my
evil meter jumped up about three notches.

“Look mister,” said Lily, her face level and her voice calm.
“He already told you to leave.” She nodded toward me. “Don’t make us show you
the way home.”

The man’s companion stepped forward like he was about to get
into Lily’s face, and that was just about the time that Melody and her
grandparents realized we had company.

“What’s going on here?” Gramps asked, wheeling up in his
chair. “We have a right to be here,” he said, his voice rising in indignation.

“You don’t, actually,” said the second man, sliding his
sunglasses up from his nose and onto his head as well. He didn’t hide his
strange eyes. “This is private property.”

“We aren’t doing anything wrong,” said Gram, coming up to
stand to my left. I could see her out in my peripheral vision, and she had put
an arm around Tara’s shoulders. I knew she would pull Tara out of the way if
things got physical.

“You need to leave,” the second man said. “Before things
escalate.” He turned his strange eyes on me, and I felt my blood go cold. His
eyes were gold, liquid gold,
an
inhuman color.

 
“What the fuck?” Sam
took a step back, startled, as he got a good look at the man’s eyes, too.

And then, like a wraith in the dimming daylight, the sound
of the wind howling, covering up her footsteps, Esme appeared from behind
Thompson’s companion and swung a shovel at his head with all of her might.

He sensed her swing before she could complete it, but it was
all I needed to let my reflexes act even before my brain could comprehend what
was happening. I jumped on Thompson, the sword of light springing to life in my
hand, and we met, one warrior against another, and his strength was astounding.
Even as strong as I was, hyped full of adrenaline, I could tell that I was no
match for
him,
so naturally, I turned to
Muy
Thai and threw him on his ass.

My instructor said that every fight was just an excuse to
get dirty on the ground, and now I understood what he meant. I needed to take
this guy down as quickly as possible.

A scuffle sounded behind me, and I heard Lily grunt as if
she had taken a blow, but I had no time to spare for her.

And then there was the sound of thunder, an unearthly crack
that seemed to split the air in two, right above our heads, and I knew we had
only seconds to spare. I wound my legs through Thompson’s, my bicep pressed
against his neck, and pulled in opposite directions, up on his neck and away
with my legs, struggling to choke him out.

“It’s starting,” Gram yelled.
“Melody!
Now! You need to be in the circle now!”

79. MELODY

I tore my gaze from the spectacle of G. fighting with
Thompson, who I now recognized as the mechanic I had spoken to that one day at the
garage, glancing at the other strange man who’s eyes didn’t look right. They
didn’t look human. They looked…

Gramps snagged the back pocket of my jeans and spun me
around.
“Now, girl!
You need to go now. This is the
part that only you can do.”

I stared at him, my mouth agape, and then looked up at the
sky above me. The eclipse was buried behind tumultuous storm clouds. Gray,
darker gray, green, they roiled above me like curdled whey. There were flashes
of lightning and the occasional sharp, penetrating claps of thunder that made
me jump and frayed my nerves to breaking.

The hair on my arms stood up on end, and at first I thought
I just had goosebumps, but then I realized that the hair on my head was
beginning to float up, too. Like a golden-brown halo of static discharge. I
looked toward the center of the circle where we had buried the tourmaline at
the base of an old electric pole. I felt my feet move, suddenly running toward
it. Matthew was all that mattered to me now. I tossed a last look over my shoulder
at Gramps. He gave me a solemn nod.

Inside the circle, in the middle of the grid I had drawn
with Gramps’s help, the storm was slightly calmer. The noise was ferocious and
the thunderclaps just as deafening, but the wind had calmed, as if I were surrounded
by a wall. And I realized I
was,
a wall of energy. I
tilted my head back to look at the sky and marveled at the tortuous clouds.
Gramps had said that my job was to bring order out of chaos, but I just wasn’t
sure how I was going to do that.

I tossed off my flip flops and felt beneath the turned up
earth for the black tourmaline. Then I reached my arms and hands out wide, to
my sides, and closed my eyes.

At first I felt nothing.

And then it was there; it was deep, far below the surface,
but rising. The thrum, the pulse, the rhythm of the earth, and I knew that this
was going to get a lot more wild than just getting high from completing the
circuit.