The Forbidden
"Smooth," Big Mike said quietly. "Professional."
Dan smiled, a rosy tinge entering his cheeks. "Thanks, guys. I've been doing a lot of thinking, ya know. Like, the fact that they saw two extra passports and recognized our girl... maybe our man, might be working to our advantage," he added in a conspiratorial, private tone, and speaking in quasi code while the line inched forward.
Marlene nodded and smiled. "Follow your gut, baby. Finish the thought. Just let it flow."
"The media will broadcast her possible death over a holy site-which makes sense, since she was supposed to be on a religious pilgrimage."
Berkfield stepped in closer. "Our man's mug shot is very recognizable, too. It won't be long before they make a link to him and also show him missing and assumed dead."
"That's where I was going," Dan said, struggling to keep the excitement from raising the level of his voice as he began using his hands to talk. "The compound going up will be added to the news-either wildfire or speculation about our man's past. Either way, it will explain her need to find religion, as well as any explosions from our ammo."
J.L. chuckled. "And the reason we had such tight security, all the high-tech gadgets they may find in the charred rubble is because her lover had some nefarious origins." He shook his head. "You're the man."
"We work it," Berkfield whispered, gaining nods from the group. "Cover our tracks."
"The hole in the plane will suggest that most, if not all of us, got sucked out through the pressure-seal breaks. And, if you'll notice, courtesy Father Patrick's people, those two names, his and hers, are the only actual ones on the docs." He dug in his sack again and produced the visas for each person to inspect.
Dan waited until each person had looked at their documents and tucked them away into the folds of their robes, both stunned and satisfied.
"My face isn't recognizable, nor is my name," Dan added, "not like you guys who were in the band. Mar has me on the insurance paperwork as the second businessperson in command. It's a limited liability partnership that lives on even if one of the principals-our girl-goes down. So, I can settle the estate, long distance through faxes, or do it in person as the executor once we get home. The fire may be deemed an act of God, though. Therefore we might be assed out as far as a financial recovery from the loss of our compound. They may not settle the estate, either, for like a year, until the search for her has been legally concluded... just so you know. Which is really best, since we don't want to get caught up in any insurance-fraud backlash when girlfriend resurfaces. But for now, I can still manage the business, or draw on what we had in the banks. We have to have resources while-"
"The entire team stays undercover," Berkfield said, finishing Dan's sentence in a whisper. He glanced at the group that held the same awed expression and then looked at Dan.
"When did you notice the names weren't right?" Father Patrick whispered, making the other clerics come into a tighter huddle. "We didn't do that... our people didn't do that."
The group drew in closer and waited, their focus steady on Dan.
"It had to happen in the air," he whispered with a shrug. "It wasn't like that when we took off in Manila. That's all I know." He glanced around and allowed his line of vision to settle on Marlene. "You know how we've all been a little off... like how our gifts have been rusty, not working, right?"
Marlene nodded. "Yeah, baby. Talk to me."
"Ever since Rivera and Berkfield did their thing on everybody with you... and we sat by that lake, I've been getting my old hunches back, thinking clearer." He looked at Rider, then Jose. "How's your snozes?"
"My sinuses are killing me," Rider said, sharing a look with Jose, who nodded.
"Yeah, my point exactly," Dan said, his eyes wide with wonder. "And Mike began complaining of a headache from all the noise in the airport, the same way J.L. and Shabazz have been jumpy."
"And the way it resonated with me when Rider mentioned the Hilton," Marlene said quietly, looking off into the distance. "Our sensory gifts are slowly coming back." She looked at the four clerics who silently nodded their agreement.
"That's why I'm with Rider," Dan said, shuffling forward with the slow-moving line. "If we get to a place where we can really rest, take a load off, eat to replenish ourselves, get some clean water, maybe what we lost will come back."
"Whew," Rider whispered, letting his breath out hard. "This is deep enough to make even me consider wearing a clerical collar."
Damali reached across the small outdoor cafe table and covered Carlos's hand with her own. She watched him toy with a pair of her silver earrings, pushing them around with his forefinger on the rutted surface of the wood as he spoke. He'd told her so much; they had shared so much. Their gifts were so new and there was so much to celebrate. There was also a lot to dread, and her name was Lilith. But as he told her about what happened to his mother and grandmother, suddenly her lungs couldn't hold enough air.
"Baby... I'm so sorry. We have to figure out a way to go back immediately, and-"
"No," he said quietly, his gaze gentle. "I have time to go bury her proper. I'm making my peace with that. It's about patience."
She stared at him, not knowing what to say.
"I saw her," he murmured. "Saw all of them. They're in a better place, and this was part of the whole equation."
Damali tilted her head, not sure what he meant. Grief was stabbing her in the belly, making her breaths shallow.
"I can see them," he whispered, leaning in closer. "Oh, I will address what happened," he added, releasing her hold on his hand and sitting back in his chair. "Trust me on that. But right now, I'm cool. Like the old dudes said-seven days to get my head right and my spirit right. Seventy days to locate all my gifts and gather an army. Seven months to get those resources strong. Yeah. Always operate from a position of strength, baby. You know that. Problem is, with this axe hanging over our heads... with the egg. We can't let that happen on our watch." He briefly shut his eyes. "D, I'm so sorry, baby."
She nodded. "It wasn't your fault. We both didn't think... Next time, if there's-you know what I'm saying-we'll plan."
"Right. I know you're right." He looked at her. "You sure you feel okay, no aftereffects?"
"No," she said softly, and reached forward to clasp his hand to squeeze it tightly. "I'm good."
"Cool," he said, and then looked down at the table.
However, as she watched him glance away, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes as the muscle in his jaw pulsed, she knew he was anything but cool about any of what had gone down. She withdrew the two stones she had in her pocket and held them in her fist above the table before him. "Granite," she said, setting the small white stone down hard to draw his attention away from his pain. "Your spirit has to be impenetrable on the side of white Light. Now I know what this means." She next placed the clear quartz crystal beside it. "Your mind must be crystal clear-laser sharp." Damali paused to allow the information to sink in. "I'm to collect five more stones for a total of seven for you, and until you're healed, I'm not completely whole, either. We're partners. If you go down, I go down, and vice versa.Comprendo ?"
He smiled, although his expression was tense as the tears in his eyes receded and burned away. "We're both in rehab. Gotta relearn the old stuff, plus a bunch of new. I've got your back, and you've got mine-always was that way, girl."
She smiled, tension easing away from her shoulders. "Yeah," she said, covering his hands when he leaned forward. "You can bend light and conceal yourself. I can shape-shift into living natural creatures. Makes me able to hide, or get into small places to hear what I've gotta hear." She paused, struggling with the decision about whether or not to tell him about Raven, and decided not to go there. If he knew she'd try to hit council chambers, they'd be in a huge argument that they didn't need to get into right now.
"We can both travel in the Light bands, just in different ways. Just like these two stones, we just picked up two gifts," she said, covering her dilemma with a tender smile. "Your thirteenth gift and mine. A celebration is in order."
He leaned in closer. "True. That's deep." Carlos sighed. "All right. But what about weapons while we're rollin'?"
Damali lowered her voice. "They said you'd get the shield of Heru and his saber. I'd get a Light wand that would leave a deadlier cut on an enemy than the Isis blades alone. Problem is, they haven't given me my blades back, yet, and you don't have a shield, yet... so, we cope until then with conventional stuff, is my vote."
"I know," Carlos said in a near whisper. "But when, where? How do we get those? That's what's bugging the hell out of me."
Damali shrugged. "I don't know, baby. Somewhere or sometime during this whole collection process, I suppose." She looked off in the distance, thinking. It was all so crazy, yet made perfect sense. He was changing, she was changing, the team was changing. Everything she'd known was in total flux. Food oddly made sense, too. How the old cultures used it to nurture the soul as much as it nurtured the body, this was the first gift they offered, even when they had so very little of it to share.
"Yeah, girl. I know what you mean. Food is important, the gift of offering a meal is like-"
"Carlos," she said quietly, stopping his sentence midstream. "I didn't say that out loud."
They both stared at each other. A current ran through her as he extended his hands across the table and held hers. When she looked into his eyes, she could see his dark irises rimmed with a thin thread of silver, and then it seemed like his irises had filaments of silver breaking them up. She breathed in deeply, and tilted her head. Damn... he smelled good.
He took in a deep breath as he watched her expression. Her hands felt like they were on fire. He had to glance down at them to be sure his weren't. But as he looked up slowly and her stare captured his, he saw a thin golden band of shimmering light just above the surface of her skin. It was as though she was glowing in the sun, and he followed the trail along the edge of her shoulder until her eyes drank him in.
We're back, she thought, gazing at him intently.
I hear you, he thought, not blinking as he continued to look into her eyes.
It's not a vamp lock. She squeezed his hands more tightly.It's like what I used to be able to do in impressions with Marlene, but I actually hear your voice in my head .
Carlos nodded.We haven't been able to do that since ...
Yeah. She swallowed hard, fighting against the new emotion.
He hesitated, searching for vocabulary to describe the phenomena. "Light all around them, they actually glow with it, too. They're translucent, clearish, but not. You follow?"
She nodded. "I see in rolling visions. Snap frames of impressions, not actual beings." Damali released his hands and sat back, wiping the sudden moisture from her brow. "You see the present, I see the near future and can pick up the past. I have the third eye working; your sight is coming from your actual eyes." He sat back and stared at her. "When you first came back, your eyes glowed silver. Now I better understand."
"Girl, as always, you are blowing my mind."
She smiled and it gave way to a nervous chuckle. "That's my job, ain't it?"
"I guess it is." He smiled.
"But the people we saw. They were something real, but not. Since you can see in the present, who were they?"
"Third-ring guides. Maybe even fourth-ring Akashic file protectors. Light entities that are strong enough to push through the density of earth's gray zone, manifest, and deliver a message."
Again, she stared only at him before slowly speaking. "We've reconnected our spirits, me and you," she said with reverence. "Then our heads synced up-one mind. The whole of which can see past, present, and future... and you can discern beings of light from the outer first ring, like your mother's spirit, all the way to warrior angels on ring six. Oh, this is wild."
"No," he murmured, clasping her hands within his again. "What's wild is, I get the info, and then you break the code on it. I can call up stuff, can tell you what I've experienced, and you analyze it so on-point that it's scary, woman. It's like I get the knowledge, then you put the wisdom to it."
"Balance," she stated flatly. "As you remember things from your old life, I can put it into context with this new path. But you have to trust me."
"No doubt," he murmured, his voice traveling toward the horizon as his gaze slid away from hers to the sun. "I may be new at this whole Neteru thing, but I know we need weapons... thirteen gifts, notwithstanding, D. We've gotta get strapped."
"No lie," she said, looking toward the sun.
"They told me something about pyramids in the desert and Meroe."
She smiled. "What's in Meroe?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted, and returned his gaze to hers. "It's like a three-hour trip, we could make it there and back well before it gets dark."
"By bus for a coupla bucks, right? I know we have this new set of skills, but I don't want to test it and have you wind up one place, me in another."
"I heard that," he said, removing his hands from hers to take a sip of tea. "I thought I was gonna have a heart attack when those old boys made me grab the filament edges, and then pushed me into a Light spiral. No, girl. Lemme work my thing out first before I get all fancy and mess up."
She had to laugh. "Aw, brother. C'mon. You used to whirl in on a black tornado and-"
"That was then, this is now," he muttered, growing peevish.
"My bad," she said, trying to soothe his offended feelings. She had to remember to drop references to the past. Had to remember that he was indeed all male and his pride would always goeth before a fall. And most of all, she had to remember that when he gave her a small inkling of the fact that he was a little unsure or afraid, it was not about tap dancing on that news. "I think the new way you do it is more suave, anyway. You'll perfect it, and be showing those old boys how to roll in no time."
He glimpsed up at her while sipping his tea, beginning to lose some of the surliness in his tone. "You think so? I mean, you like the new way better? For real, D... don't jack with me about my transport. I've gotta get it down right, and don't need you making fun of me about learning how to fly again."
"I wouldn't play with you about something that serious," she said, her voice the balm of Gilead. "I just wish I could have been there to see it." She leaned in close enough for her breath to kiss his. "I bet you were majestic... threw open your arms and snapped right into the middle of the bridge and began walking-no one ever saw you reenter this dimension, did they?" She could see him struggling not to smile.
"I was all right," he said, and slurped his lukewarm tea. He wasn't about to get into how he'd crash-landed by accident on Venice Beach.
"Modesty will get you everywhere," she said with a sly wink. But when he bristled again and looked away, she fought not to sigh.
"How are you feeling, for real?" he asked, changing the subject. "You said the queens healed you... but-"
"They did, and those old dollsare bad . Trust me."
He nodded, but didn't look up at her. "I think they really did take your blade, D, because they've got you deep undercover. I'm not getting a sense that it was pure punishment."
"What makes you say that?" Now she was really curious, and his statement made her place both elbows on the table as she rested her chin on her fists to listen hard.
"The Light doesn't roll with retribution," he said plainly. "If you had your blades, number one, you wouldn't have ever learned to use the stones to convert into nature."
While what he said was profound, the fact that he was analyzing her condition like he used to made her want to reach across the table and hug him and shout. But she remained very still, soaking in the newfound moment as she watched her man defragment and begin to come back to himself.
"It's the same reason the compound burned," he said quietly so that only she could hear. "Think of it this way. If you weren't there, and none of us had your Isis on them, and nothing you'd touched was giving off Neteru energy, what came on the plane couldn't track you-or me. The thing looked me dead in the face, baby, and passed. It's vibrations they must be tracking. The prayer barriers around the compound and the clerics' safe-house cabin were strong enough to hold anything back. But my hunch is the Darkness wasallowed to think it had a temporary victory, if not a total one."
What he'd said made perfect sense, but the fact that Raven had been able to easily find her in Philly worried the hell out of her. She could only hope that what he'd said about tracking vibrations had been right. She and Marlene had connected harder than ever before on the plane. She prayed that it was Raven tracking Marlene in her aura, but hadn't seen her because of a breach in her concealment. It was hard to look at Carlos with this on her heart. She'd never kept anything from him, really.
She spoke slowly, picking at the edge of her dish. "And the plane went down with everyone on board presumed dead and burned beyond dental records, or sucked out of the side of it over the mountains."
"Correct," he said, setting his tea down very carefully. "So, we have a window of opportunity to rebuild while the other side is in the blind, while they have false confidence." Carlos picked up her earring off the table. "But I ain't trying to press my luck. The bus is a good low-key option."
Damali smiled as she watched his mind work behind his handsome brown eyes. "We got lucky with the restaurant. This little joint accepted a pair of earrings for some grub worth a tenth of that. But now, a bus ticket may be a little bit of a stretch. Besides, I'm running out of jewelry to pawn."
He gave her a teasing scowl. "Girl, you worried about me being able to negotiate transpo? A bus ticket? Just because we're in a foreign country with no papers and no cash?" He laughed deeply when she broke down and laughed at the outrageous concept. "D, pullease. You oughta know, dead or alive, I can talk anybody into anything."
True to his word, Carlos had talked them both onto a minibus, and within an hour they were on their way, bumping along the congested, dusty roads to Al-Ahram, the pyramids. She continued to stare out the window past his chest, a sense of peace petting her to sleep against his shoulder in the sweltering confines. Body funk from the overpacked passenger load assaulted her senses. Yet, no matter how rugged a journey, this was Heaven.
Thank you, Lord, he has a heartbeat and a soul. Thank you, thank you, Jesus, this man has come hack in one piece. Her knees ached to bend in prayer to say thank-you that her entire family had made it out alive, as well as to offer up her deepest hurt that his mother and grandmother had been sacrificed in the process. That's why she had to do this thing with Raven to settle the damned problem of being hunted, once and for all. Lilith definitely had to get smoked, but not without the chairman's head also rolling. None of them could live like that, always looking over their shoulders.
The warmth of Carlos's arm settled into her skin, his hand gently stroking her arm the way it always had. What the old queens said she'd lacked in wisdom, she knew she more than made up for in faith. Yes, she had faith in this man. Yes, she trusted him with even her life. Yes, she wanted to have his children, the luck of the draw be damned. But did her wanting all these things take away from her desire to meet her destiny? Not hardly.
True, she had respect for them, but they also needed to respect her. This was a new era. Things were the same, and yet different. A compromise was necessary. She was glad Carlos had helped her see past her own rage and head trip about losing her powers to understand that it was a timing thing, really a gift that they'd bestowed... one that had possibly saved all their lives. Before she'd been bold, out there, just baiting danger. Now, just like when she was a baby, it was time to hide and conceal herself until she was ready to resurface again even stronger. The way he'd described it made the stripping of her blades more tolerable, if not exciting in an odd way. She wondered what her new arsenal would look like when she was in full bloom.
When he nuzzled her temple, she thought of family. Yes, everything was in flux. Not necessarily chaos. She'd learned that transition could be masked as chaos, but if one became still enough, a pattern would always emerge. It was time for everyone to shift on the wheel as the team dynamic took on a new formation. It was all so clear as she rode in the smelly bus. Her Guardians were there to guide her, and not to do the hard rebuilding work for either her or Carlos. They had to do it without relying solely on the skills of the group. There would be time for that, later.
The cycle of life was as it had always been-balanced. There was a time for family to protect you from harm when you were a little kid, then simply guide you as an adolescent then young adult, then release you to fly on your own when fully matured... but the nest would always be a beacon, just as your kin would always rise to stand with you no matter how old you became, if you were lucky... if you were righteous, if they were, too.
Why she'd struggled so hard against the basic rhythm of life was beyond her. As she listened to a steady heartbeat that was in sync with the harmony of the seasons, she couldn't begin to figure out why she'd taken herself and her family through all those changes while growing up. She wondered if Carlos asked himself the same question. What had been the point? Yet it was indeed what made up the wisdom of whom they all were now. Family included had learned and grown from it all, even though they'd weathered much. Nothing was a waste, but so much had been squandered. The dichotomy was as unfathomable as the very universe itself.
The old man had shown her the new rings and how they would be formed. The riddles he offered still pecked at her mind like the tiny bird she'd become... that transition was awesome. Now she also understood Carlos's fascination with the panther form, but knew better than to go there-ever. To go there would be a slap in his face. The Light also demanded a subtler approach... show oneself as the meek and unarmed to disguise one's true power. It was a different, but very effective strategy that she was now in the right frame of mind to employ.
Carlos listened to Damali breathe, her warm exhalations coating his skin in waves of serenity. He had a little bit of Heaven in his arms. His boy had hooked him up with mad-crazy cash that he could only pray wouldn't evaporate. He'd be patient and wait for a sign that it wouldn't before he got Damali's hopes up too high. Her compound had burned, his baby girl was stressed... he could feel it beneath her surface calm. A lack of resources made it hard to flow and do what they all had to do.
It was time for them all to get back on their feet and reestablish a base camp. When he got his ID, and maybe over to Europe with a full team and some basic combat gear, then he'd access the Swiss accounts. One thing was for sure; he'd learned patience and how to wait for the right moment. The old men promised that he'd find weapons and new skills; he had to be patient and have faith that what he needed would come. He would try to be patient. Had to keep telling himself to do that.
Ironically, the most tangible power he knew about, cash, his boy on the dark side had provided. The dilemma was tricky. The only thing keeping him sane was the fact that he'd seen his family in the Light.
Carlos closed his eyes, remembering how serene they all looked, how complete. He knew the instant they'd appeared that it had been quick, their transition softened by the purpose of their sacrifice. He would not let their deaths be in vain.
Grace had been granted, though. Damali was whole, her breaths of life a steady rhythm that matched his pulse. The heat within the minibus fused her to him, and the old girls on the Council of Neteru Queens had healed her body... her mind and spirit were also intact. Their common loss, the baby, was probably for the best... momentary peace had him enthralled. Oh, yeah. He'd find Lilith all right and take her head. He'd deal with the chairman, too, no doubt. But torture and high drama had taught him to pace himself. Right now, Damali was back in his arms. The lumbering motion of the minibus began rocking him to sleep.
He opened his lids and looked at her with sleep-bleary eyes. They were actuallyboth Neterus. Deep. He would have never imagined that twist of fate. His hand traced her shoulder, feeling the delicacy of her bone structure but knowing it was made of what could pass for flexible steel. The old wise men had told him he had that, too. Just like she was impervious to a demon bite, his blood carried liquid silver that would torch a predator on contact. Everything she had, he had, and they were still learning what that meant. What was in Meroe, though?
Carlos and Damali came out of their semisleep doze as their bus rumbled and sputtered to a jolting stop.
"When you get out," the driver said, using a static ridden intercom, "you walk seven hundred meters in that direction to get a close look at the pyramids." He flung open the doors, stretching the curly intercom cord. "I have water for sale, you need plenty of that, if you have not brought it. This site thrived from 592 BC until the Abyssinians overran it in 350 AD. It does not have pyramids the scale of the pyramids of Giza, but what it lacks in size, it makes up for in number and breathtaking location."
The bus driver hopped down the steps and began helping passengers off the minibus. Carlos and Damali shared a glance.
"Do the math," he murmured as she stood.
"592 BC... five, plus nine equals fourteen, plus two is sixteen, reduces to seven." She looked at Carlos as he stood.
"And they are seven hundred meters away."
Damali held Carlos's hand and squeezed it as they made their way off the bus. "Eight years to make it the year one, plus 350 years, is 358. Three plus five is eight, plus eight."
"Sixteen," Carlos said in a low murmur. "One plus six is your third seven."
"And the old men said watch for triple sevens because you needed to come into your own quickly," she said in an awed tone. "Okay. Look alive. It's on."
They squinted in the bright sun as the small group of passengers organized backpacks, camera equipment, and began to trudge across the dramatic backdrop of desert toward the sprawling flat pyramids that dotted the living canvas.
Carlos allowed a short, private distance to separate him and Damali from the others as he slowed their pace. He waited until a group of waiting tourists filled the minibuses that consistently drove up, shed passengers, and collected new ones for the return trip.
"Talk to me," he said quietly, his gaze raking the horizon. "What's your vibe on this?"
Damali stood still, sweeping the landscape using internal radar. "Your shield is here," she said after a moment, and began walking.
He had to lengthen his strides to catch up to her. "What's it look like?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure. All I'm feeling is that it's just like the blades are now. It's not actual, it's pure energy."
He didn't fully comprehend, but wasn't about to argue with the amazing woman who was pacing along at almost a trot. As he got closer to the pyramids he stopped as a current sent a shudder through him. Damali turned and looked at him and then brushed down the raised edges of his hair that crackled around his crocheted skullcap.
"Your hair is standing on end," she whispered, seeming delighted. "You feel it?"
He nodded. "Hell yeah, I feel it. What is it?"
"A power surge." She glanced around as they neared the base of an ancient structure, careful to keep their voices to a private low murmur between them. "Concentrate. Logic it out. Have you ever been here, or remember anything like this?"
"The desert," he said quietly, and suddenly leaned against her to keep from falling. The surge wafted through him in waves that stole his breath.
"He just needs some water," she said to a few nearby tourists who'd offered glances of concern. "You okay, baby?"
Carlos shook his head no and sat down hard on the sand.
"I have a bottle," a lady said, struggling with her backpack to get out a liter of water. "You kids came out here without even a camera?"
"We were just so excited to get here," Damali said. "We forgot."
"Oh, the haste of youth," the woman said, clucking her tongue like a mother hen. She thrust the water toward Carlos, and Damali accepted it for him, sensing for any danger of malice before she allowed Carlos to have it. Damali smiled as she quickly appraised the older European female who bore a slightly British accent. She seemed nice enough. Looked to be about fifty. Had on khakis and a floral print shirt that aged her and added to her robust midsection. The assessment took five seconds.
"Thanks so much," Damali said. "We didn't know better and thought the bus driver was just trying to milk us."
The kindly tourist chuckled and shook her head. "When on holiday, it is best to bring all your own supplies. It is amazing how the price of things goes up on the spot when you're unprepared. They sense it, like sharks, and hike the prices-and if you're stuck, what will you do but pay?"
Damali twisted off the bottled water cap, and thrust the container toward Carlos, trying to keep any panic from her expression. "You are so right." She watched Carlos guzzle the water and douse his neck with some of it splashing the ground. "Thanks, really," Damali said. "Out here in the desert, water is like gold."
"Yes, it is," the woman said calmly. "Enjoy. Cheerio." Then she hoisted up her backpack, rearranged the camera over her neck, and walked away toward the others.
Carlos looked up at Damali from where he was seated in the sand. "That was one of 'em."
"What?" Damali squatted down beside him. "You okay?"
"That was one of 'em," he wheezed, nodding to the woman who was now several yards away. "You heard what she said about being prepared, just like the bus driver said that what this place lacks in size, is made up for in volume-sheer numbers. Look around."
Damali did as he'd requested, but remained stooped down beside him.
"Messages. Battle strategy," Carlos said. "That's what we came here for. But I remember this place. When I got jettisoned from the big battle after the concert, they sent me to the desert."
"But that was in Mexico," Damali said, sitting down beside Carlos with care. "You didn't come up here."
"I know, I know," he said, suddenly agitated. "That's not what I mean."
"Maybe the sun is-"
"I'm not disoriented," he snapped. "I'm not as fast on the vibe thing as you, yet, but I know when I'm near something-tracking it."
"Okay. I'm sorry," she said quietly, touching his shoulder. "The desert, there's a connection."
He nodded and shut his eyes. "I was left to die in the desert. I was found in the desert by the clerics. This desert has flat pyramids. So do the deserts in my homeland. You said the shield is here. The two people who spoke to us said to essentially be prepared."
Damali began doodling in the sand with her finger, trying to think as Carlos talked, swirling the wet patches of sand left from his dousing around in little balls. "All right. We got three sevens-that message is clear that we're in the right place. You are obviously magnetized to it-your hair, the energy zap. Cool. The strategy tips all make reasonable sense. We are smaller than whatever we have to deal with, so we have to add to the team. We need more pyramids. Twenty-one, to be exact. In my mind, that's just validation of what we heard before. But why did I say the shield was here? It just popped into my mind."
"That lady was one of 'em, D. One of the Light guides, she wasn't just sweating."
"Huh?"
"I knew them, sorta when I saw them before. Like..." Carlos struggled for words as he began doodling in the sand with Damali. "Like I'd know who was safe to talk to or not. Now, I'm starting to see the silver outline in their sweat."
Damali looked up and stopped doodling. "You mean you actually see auras?"
"I don't know what you call it, but regular people have different colors around them, the info guides seem to have this silvery light that looks like perspiration to the average eye."
She chuckled. "Oh, that is too deep."
"I know," he said, pushing his palms against the damp sand to stand. "I can't figure this out," he added as Damali jumped to her feet. "Why did we have to come all the way out here, waste precious daylight, to remind me that I got saved in the desert the first big battle I fought? See, I can dig having to learn lessons, but some shit just isn't practical. Basic information shouldn't require all this drama. We could have saved time, girl, and hunted for our teams. You feel me?"
Carlos stared down as the wet grains of sand sparkled with the iridescent shimmer of gold dust. "Oh... shit..."
"That guide agreed that water out here was like gold, and then walked away." Damali glanced around nervously, checking that no one was watching. "The shield is your hands, Carlos. Raise your shield," she ordered, placing her hands out in front of her in a martial-arts move Shabazz had taught her. Then she spread them to go into an Aikido stance. "Mirror me."
He did it without hesitation and they both watched in awe as a shimmering, translucent band of golden light emerged between his palms, blocking his body. Damali picked up a clump of rocky earth.
"Hold the energy, baby. Pyramids at your back, me, an attacker at your front. Imagine the team flanking you like the pyramids and behind raised battle shields."
He nodded and bent his knees more to withstand the blow she was about to levy against his sheer barrier. She hurled the clump of rock at him, and the dirt burned away, never penetrating it.
"Hot damn!" Carlos held the stance but looked from one hand to the next, laughing out loud. "Aw sheeit!" He stood up straight and kept clapping and opening his hands, making the Light band between them widen and contract like an accordion. "Will you look at this, D! This is da bomb."
She chuckled as she watched him play, jumping into fierce warrior poses, and beckoning her to continue to throw sand at him.
But she also kept a lookout for the milling tourists who were scouring the historic site. Paranoia throttled her enthusiasm. That's all they needed now was to be seen and rushed by gawkers, or to create some sort of scene. She was thankful that the folks on the bus were old enough to not know who she was, and glad that she wasn't on their top ten music list of recognizable celebs. It was all she could do to keep part of her focus on Carlos, the other on the oblivious tourists that were far away and engrossed enough to be temporarily a nonissue.
However, the more Carlos laughed the more she was forced to laugh with him. He was like a little kid that had found a new toy and witnessing his new discovery brought her unimagined joy.
"All right, soldier," she finally said, bringing an end to his play. "Chill before one of the tourists sees you and our cover is blown."
"Aw'ight, all right," he said, winded and laughing. "Just do it one more time, then we'll find a bus and be out."
Damali sighed, but gave in. How could she not go along with him when he was so happy? The discovery had given her comfort, too, and she was secretly reveling in his newfound gift. She clawed the earth, gathering more dirt under her nails, and groaned. "You are seriously messing up a sistah's manicure. You know that, right?"
He laughed. "Hit me with your best shot, girl. I can hang. When we get back, I'll negotiate us a room at the freakin' Hilton, if you want, and you can soak the dirt out."
"Oh, now you're lying, boy," she said, laughing as she flung sand at him. "You're good, but the Hilton? Pullease. We ain't even got bus money, last I checked."
They both watched the dirt singe away, just as it had before. But when a pebble broke through Carlos's barrier, they stared at each other. The game was summarily over.
"I'm sorry," she said, truly meaning it. "The gift is just new. Maybe you just have to get stronger, is all?"
"Yeah," he muttered, wiping his hands against his robe with disgust. "I was just fooling myself, I suppose. It'll take a long time before my shields can hold against a bullet or a grenade, or a flat-out vamp squadron attack, if some itty-bitty little pebble got through. I didn't have enough energy to block your miniattack for three minutes... how can I hold the line with shields raised if we fall under an all-night attack? This is bullshit."
"Yeah, but, you still have to admit that it's a beginning. What was all that yang you were telling me about being patient? C'mon, Carlos, what we just saw was very, very cool."
"Cool, but useless." He bent and picked up the troublesome stone and sighed, about to pitch it when Damali's shriek stopped him.
"Don't!" She rushed toward him and snatched his arm, peering down at the small pebble in his hand.
He stared down at it with her, mesmerized by the smooth-jewel green-and-black vein texture that shimmered in his palm like glass.
"Malachite," she' whispered. "It carries the properties of peace, wisdom, transformation, protection, general healing, cleansing, balance... don't you know what this is? It's the third stone in my arsenal," she said, answering her own question. "Brother, stop tripping. I can always get through your shields unharmed, so can anything from the Light."
"Wow..." he said, still staring at what he held as she pushed at it with her finger. "I didn't-"
"All right. I'ma hafta do you like Marlene did me. First off, stop cussing. Words have power. Secondly, stop being so negative and impatient and blocking your own danged gifts with an I-can't mentality. From this point forward, there is no such word as can't. Her grandmother told her that, now I'm telling you-stop believing what you've heard, or what you think is impossible."
He smiled at her as she snatched the stone from his hand and put it in her pocket. "I love you, but I can't promise I'll stop cussing overnight, girl."
"Yeah, I love you, too-but you seriously get on my nerves sometimes." She laughed and gave him a wink. "I cussed out amajor queen and called her a bitch-that's when they hauled my ass to the table, so I'll let an occasional bad word slide."
"Nooo!" He doubled over and hollered. "Aw, daaaamn, D!"
They both laughed hard.
"Wanna ride the bus back to town, or try something new?"
Damali stared at him. "The bus will be fine. You used a lot of energy, brother, and need to chill."
"I thought you said you were open and down for whatever, and that there was no such word as can't."
"I'm also a practical kinda girl," she said, chuckling and walking away from him. "If you can scam us into the Hilton, that would be enough for me."
He smiled and cocked his head to the side. "No problem. Remember where the bridge was?" He waited for her to nod and enjoyed her peevish expression. "There's one right down Sharia el-Nil, by the Blue Nile Riverside Restaurant we ate at. I don't have to scam our way into a hotel, though. You have money."
"Two teeny earrings left is not enough to..."
Carlos shook his head and motioned to her hair wrap with his chin. "Take it off."
Damali brought her fingers up to the fabric and gently felt at it blindly. "I forgot..."
"Gold. Resources at your disposal but not used. Hidden gifts. You've got enough stashed up there to order a limo and rent out the penthouse."
"How did you know?" she stammered, carefully sitting down to unwrap her hair over her robes. She covered her mouth to keep from shrieking as gold coins and foreign currency littered her lap in a pelting rain.
"I could see it right through the wrap now." Carlos smiled.
She glanced up at him, her gaze locked to the flicker of silver within his irises. "Your eyes..."
Carlos shrugged. "Wanna test out my daylight flight pattern, or you still scared, Miss No Such Word As Can't? Let's get out of the desert and into the Hilton."
DAMALI LEANED into Carlos's embrace, her back against his stomach, his outstretched arms covering hers, his palms slowly covering her knuckles until their fingers threaded together. His body heat became a coating of energy that sent a tingling electric sensation through her, making her feel light, porous, and breathless with anticipation. Soon he released her hands to gather an invisible filament just beyond her fingertips. A thin light blue current arced for a brief glimpse, showing her the edge of the curtain he'd closed with her folded within his arms.
But there was no rushing wind, no force against nature, rather a gentle fusing with it. The bottom didn't drop out of her stomach, as though on a wild roller-coaster ride, nor did she feel the instant panic spike of adrenaline or the centrifugal force of being jettisoned against gravity. She could tell she was airborne, but also inside a brilliant bubble that was tranquil, soundless, warm, and soothing. This was so different than the transport she'd experienced with him before. When he opened the drape around them, time had stopped for a half second, and she was in the Hilton Hotel lobby.
For a moment, neither she nor Carlos moved. In that fraction of time-space differential, people seemed frozen, and then simply picked up whatever activity they'd been engaged in without even missing a beat.
"You stopped time, girl," Carlos murmured in her ear, stepping beside her as she caught her breath.
"What do you mean? I didn't do that," she whispered. "Your transport-"
"Nope. When I do that I just merge into the flow. This time when I did it, time hitched. Did you notice?"
He threaded his arm around her waist as she looked around the lobby, trying to seem like she was just a patron who had waltzed in the front door.
"I saw the hitch, but can't explain it." She glanced up at him. "Maybe it's the stones?"