Spirit Storm (12 page)

“Earth to Yuki,” Emma said, sitting on the chair beside me.

I wondered how long she had been sitting there. “Sorry,” I said, trying, and failing, to look away from Cal.

“Dude you need to get some sleep,” Emma said, frowning.

“No, I slept,” I said. “That’s actually part of why I’m here.”

I told Emma and Simon about my dream and how Cal had described being separated from his wolf spirit.

“You were right,” Emma said, looking worriedly at Simon.

Huh?
I looked confusedly back and forth between them. I was missing something here.

“I wish I were wrong,” Simon said, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Last night, when we returned from the cave, I noticed the absence of Cal’s wolf smell. He just smells…human.”

“We can’t let Cal’s wolf spirit go into the light,” I said, firmly. “You both agree that he could die without his wolf spirit, right?”

Emma and Simon both nodded in agreement.

“Even if I wasn’t already worried about him losing a part of himself,” Emma said. “I would want Cal’s wolf traits strong right now. His werewolf ability to heal more rapidly than a human could be the difference between whether or not he makes it through this safely. I’m working without real medical equipment. Cal needs all the help he can get.”

“Aye, I’ve never heard of one of us losing our wolf spirit, but it doesn’t sound good,” Simon said. “I know that I couldn’t live without mine. We are both a part of each other.”

“Then it’s settled,” I said. “I am going to dance to call Cal’s wolf spirit back to his body. If I can communicate with his wolf, then I’ll try to explain how important it is for it to stay here with Cal.”

“What do you need?” Emma asked.

“Let’s roll up these sleeping bags and clear the floor,” I said. “And Emma?”

“Yeah?” Emma asked.

“Do you have any of your headache ease tea with you?” I said, wincing.

“Sure thing,” she said. “It’s out in the van.”

Emma grabbed her keys and ran out to get her herbal supplies. I turned to see Simon staring at me intently. Raising one eyebrow he said, “You must really love Cal if you’re willing to drink Emma’s tea to help him.”

“Yeah, I really do,” I said, walking over to look down at Cal’s sleeping face.
I really, really do.

Chapter 16

Emma and Simon sat against the far wall, each with a drum and stick. Cal had acquired the drums last year at Shaman Camp. They were hoop drums he had made by hand, stretching wet rawhide across the wooden hoop making a taught skin on one side for drumming and leaving the exposed strands on the back for holding the drum. The rawhide strands could also be pulled and released to alter the tone of the drum when hit by the stick. The drumming sticks were covered on one end with some kind of padding and more rawhide.

As Emma and Simon began to pound a slow beat on their drums, I stepped into the center of the room. I clapped my hands and stomped my feet to the beat of the drums and began to walk in a circle. Step, stomp-clap, step, stomp-clap. As the drumming became faster I increased my pace and began swaying as I circled the room. I visualized Cal’s wolf loping towards me. I tried to concentrate and focus on that image, but it was harder than ever before. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I struggled to suck enough air into my lungs. I continued dancing, stomping and writhing with impromptu dance movements, always maintaining my circle.

I reached my arms out, grasping for Cal’s wolf spirit, but my hands moved only through air.
Come to us. Calvin needs you.
His wolf should have been running to us by now, but I hadn’t felt even the tiniest spark of its presence. Over the sound of drumming I heard the unmistakable sound of a wolf howling. For a moment I thought it was Cal’s wolf, but realized it was only Simon adding his own beckoning call. I imagined running my hands over Cal’s wolf and sinking my hands into its fur. Dancing crazily I pictured myself embracing his wolf and nuzzling his neck where I could catch his scent.

Feeling an electric charge in the air I realized that I
could
smell Cal’s wolf. The smell was faint, but it meant that our call had reached him. My dancing, and Emma and Simon’s drumming, became faster and faster and I could feel Cal’s wolf spirit moving toward us. It moved with painful slowness, but eventually I could feel the weight of its stare.
Please, help Cal. He needs you. Without you he may die. Please stay here with him.

I remember one more turn around the circle then slipping to the floor as everything faded to black…

*****

Dirt skittered by my head and I blinked dust from my eyes.
Where was I?
My question was answered as a large insectoid head came into view. Pushing myself into a sitting position I could see that the head was connected to an enormous black shelled body.

Clubbed antennae began waving in the air as she scented the air around me. I had researched a bit about dung beetles, aka scarabs, in recent months and had learned they had an amazing sense of smell. It was strange having something in common with a towering beetle, but I suppose she was my spirit guide for a reason.

“You have been busy child,” she said.

I know beetles can’t really speak, but, as before, she communicated her words directly into my mind.

“Busy, busy that’s me,” I said.
Think Yuki, think. Maybe she can help you with Cal’s wolf spirit.

“The spirits of the dead surround you,” the beetle’s voice whispered in my head. “Their scent is all around you child.”

“Uh, yeah about that,” I said. “Cal was injured and his wolf spirit is trying to leave him, to go into the light, but if that happens Cal will die. Cal told me once that I could be his anchor to the human world, but I don’t know how to hold his wolf spirit. Do you know how I can keep his wolf spirit from walking into the light?”

“I may know a way little one, but you must first make a promise,” she said. “Heed these words, child. Let the spirits guide you, but never let them take you.”

“What do you mean by, never let them take me?” I asked. There was something foreboding about her pronouncement and I suddenly wondered if this was why there weren’t many others like me.
Maybe some of us reach out to the spirits as they head into the light…and never come back.

“The spirits of the dead are lost, flotsam in the darkness of the in-between worlds, grasping for the way home,” she said. “You, child, are one of the few who can sense the clues that help resolve their unfinished business and lead them to the light, but you must be careful. You are the candle flame in the darkness that the dead may follow, but have you never wondered where that light comes from? You share a spark of the light from beyond and like calls to like. The pull of the light can be strong little one, especially when the spirit you seek is a part of one you love.”

“Okay, I promise not to follow the spirits of the dead into the light,” I said. “How can I save Cal?”

“Renew your ties, little one,” she said. “Find the spirit-ink man and do what your young man has done before you. But beware that when the ink slips beneath your skin you will be bound to him more strongly.”

“I don’t mind being bound to Calvin,” I said. “He’s my soul mate.”
My one true love.

“The stronger you are bound to him the more difficult it will be to resist the pull of the light,” she said. “You must consider the risk to your soul. If you do as I say and still cannot hold his wolf spirit, then you may face your own death.”

“Cal is worth the risk,” I said.
I will not lose you Calvin Miller.

“You do not have much time,” she said. “The storm is fast approaching and you must be prepared.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Have you forgotten child?” she asked. “The veil begins to thin. Samhain is nigh upon us and you, little one, are in grave danger.”

“Right now, I don’t really care about that,” I said.

“Oh you should care, little one,” the beetle said. “Death is not the worst this spirit horde is capable of. Try to help your love, but prepare for the storm.”

Chapter 17

I bolted awake to the crack of thunder. The drumming of rain on the roof seemed unusually loud and I realized I wasn’t home in my bedroom. As my eyes focused I saw the outline of raw timbers and beside me I watched the hypnotic rise and fall of Cal’s chest as he slept.
Oh right, I was in the cabin, but had my dancing helped Cal or was he still in a coma?

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Simon said from the kitchen.

I looked up to see Emma and Simon sitting with steaming mugs at the small counter.

“Please tell me that’s coffee,” I groaned. I felt like my mouth was filled with sand.
Maybe it was.

“It’s tea, but don’t worry, I have black tea, not just the herbal kind,” Emma said.

Thank all that’s holy.
I would have preferred coffee, but black tea with lots of sugar could give me the jolt I needed just as well. “How’s Cal?” I asked. “Did we help? Any improvement?” I stood up with a lurch and headed to the kitchen counter.

“Slow down zombie girl,” Emma said. “Have you looked at yourself? You danced your butt off and passed out. You’re so pale even a ghost would be scared. Come sit while I make you some tea.”

I turned to Simon and tried, and failed, to raise one eyebrow questioningly. He seemed to get the message though. Who knew he’d be the reasonable one? Maybe while I slept aliens came and switched their brains. Stranger things have happened.
I should know.

“Cal’s vitals are stronger now, love, so yes I think your dance helped,” Simon answered. He even seemed to be giving me most of the credit.
Oh yeah, aliens definitely switched their brains while I was out.

“He’s right,” Emma said, shrugging. “Cal’s temperature and blood pressure are back to normal and he seems stable, but I’m sorry hun, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“That’s okay,” I said, with a gleam in my eye. “I know what I have to do.”

“What are you planning to do?” Emma asked. She looked worried.
I must really look as bad as she said.

“I need to see a man about a tattoo,” I said.

*****

After Emma got over the initial shock, and I had slugged down a half dozen mugs of tea, we started working on a plan. According to Simon this spirit-ink dude wasn’t easy to come by. He was often away in reclusive meditation and there was a ritual that had to be performed in order to get the tattoo.
How did I know this wasn’t going to be easy?

Simon “put out feelers” in the wolf community and, for now, we had to sit back and wait. Have you ever had to sit at the sickbed of someone you love? Idly sitting there, watching their chest rise and fall with the incessant ticking of the clock, is one of the most helpless feelings and I had already done this once this month. Granted the first time wasn’t nearly as serious, but if I could do something to turn back time and prevent all of Cal’s injuries I would. With inactivity came thoughts of who had done this to Cal and the old anger began to creep in. The red hot anger reached my heart and turned to fiery rage. It took all of the control that Simon had recently taught me, and the yoga breathing exercises I had learned while attending classes with Cal, to grab hold of that burning ember and extinguish it. Anger would only help our enemies and Cal would never forgive me if I lost myself to revenge.

I could almost hear Cal’s voice chiding me and reminding me of his favorite philosophy, ahimsha. Ahimsha, or devanagari in Sanskrit, meant to do no harm. Cal had always been drawn to Eastern philosophies and I remember the day he excitedly told me about ahimsha. This philosophy was not just a declaration of nonviolence, it was a way of viewing the world. Cal was always like that, eager to find beauty in all things.
Like how he found beauty in me.

No, I wouldn’t succumb to the rage inside of me. Wasn’t that the road to madness? In fact, it was probably what led to all of this pain in the first place. Simon, when asked, had told me that the man who committed these crimes had been driven mad when he was abandoned at the time of his wolf awakening. The man’s ravings had been corroborated with what others could add to his story. His father had died when he was just a boy and when he was a teen his mother left him for a man.
How alone must he have felt? How scared?

With no one to explain to him the changes in his body, he must have been frightened out of his mind. Apparently he became so paranoid of discovery that he withdrew from the human world entirely. With no school and no job he drifted, always keeping to the shadows. Living on the waste of human society, making his home in sewers and caves, he became more feral. He also became more and more convinced that his mother had left him because of his wolf side, the part of him that he relied on more each day to survive. The paradox of his self loathing and need for survival fed his madness and his desire to seek revenge on others of his kind. He became a werewolf killer.

I think I understood Cal’s attraction to ahimsha. The more I thought of the killer, whose name I learned was Nathan, the sorrier I felt for him. Circumstances had left him a homeless teen with no family. His wolf transformations were confusing and terrifying, making him too afraid to turn to anyone for help.
How could I stay mad at a little lost boy who was scared and all alone?

So instead of plotting revenge I traced the lines of Cal’s tattoo with my fingertips hoping that we would soon get a call from the spirit-ink man. The tattoo was a black tribal armband, an infinity design of a wolf chasing a scarab beetle. His spirit chasing my spirit which, since they danced together in a circle, one leading to the next, meant my spirit was also chasing his. Like now. Pressing my hand against his warm decorated skin, I said a silent prayer that my spirit guide would be right.
Please let this work.

I was so absorbed in my own little cloud of misery that I hadn’t even realized Emma had left until I heard her return. Pushing through the cabin door with her arms loaded with groceries she headed to the kitchen.