Chapter 5

I stood in front of the door, staring at the dark wood, for at least ten minutes without knocking. The logic that had brought me back to Van and his grandmother seemed to fade whenever my hand got anywhere near a knock. I had been thrown out, and with good cause. I had called a man who had risked his life to save me an agent of evil. I didn't know what they were hiding, but I felt horrible for my accusations. Oh well, not the first time I lost my temper and mouthed off saying something rude.

I had wandered for hours before I had finally decided where to go. Brant and Lacey would have separated and headed for whatever cover they could find until reinforcements from another cell showed up. I couldn't just run and hide when my instincts were all crying out that this was not just a regular incursion. The demons had a plan, and they'd been studying our cell long enough to know where to find all of our members. It stood to reason that they knew we would run and hide and wait for the neighboring cells to mount a counter offensive. This might give them enough time to do—what?

My thoughts kept coming back to Claire and Van. I was woefully short of allies and there was something about them that spoke of strength. They would probably throw me out on my ass, but I had to try.

Steeling myself for a cool reception, I rapped my knuckles firmly against the door. It swung in almost immediately and Grandma's smile greeted me with unexpected warmth.

"Come in my dear, I was wondering how long you were going to stand out there."

I glanced in surprise at the door but, as I thought, there was no peephole.

"No, I didn't see you, but nothing happens under this roof that I don't know about. Besides, I've been expecting you."

I followed her into the room. "I don't think Van will be thrilled to see me."

"Don't worry, all that youthful energy needs an outlet. Young people are always fast to jump into an argument or into bed. That's what makes being young so much fun."

I paused for a moment to catch my breath and think. The conversation was not going at all the way I had planned. Instead of stony-faced indifference I was met with a smile and a sly wink.

I made one last effort to return to the script I had been working on for the last hour. "I came to ask for your..." I stopped as Van walked into the room. His presence dominated the space and derailed my train of thought. His face carried an expression of exasperation, but I didn't sense any open hostility. Maybe he had enough time to cool off.

I started forming an apology in my head, but before I could try it out, Claire spoke up, "Never mind dear, I know who you are and why you've come."

The absurdity of the declaration brought my attention entirely back to her. "Really? Who am I?"

"You're what we call a 'Guardian Angel' though we don't mean it as the compliment it might seem. We generally feel that anyone who sets themselves up as an angel is due for a huge fall."

For a moment I just sat and stared at her. I had been called a lot of things in the past, most of them far from stellar, but angel? What kind of bullshit was she trying to lay on me? A dozen questions leapt to mind, almost all of them started with the phrase, "Old lady did you forget to take your medication today?" But I curbed my tongue and came out with the least smart-ass question I could think of. "Who is 'we'?" I demanded.

Claire tilted her head and smiled. "My people, of course."

I took a wild guess. "Travelers?"

"If you like."

The Travelers were not unknown to us. They were always on the fringes of our efforts to keep the demons from spreading. They were never directly involved in the conflict, but they seemed to frequent the same dark places where many of the battles occurred. Travelers just dissolved out of the way whenever there was any fighting. For some reason, neither side ever attacked them. DK's were taught in our earliest training that there was no evil in the Travelers, but they would never fight on our side. They considered themselves neutral.
But why did the demons let them come and go in their territory with impunity? No one knew.

Killing demons to save me, and then nursing me back to health, would completely rewrite the book on how the Travelers normally react to this ongoing war the demons the DK's were raging.

I turned to Van and demanded, "Why didn't you tell me you were a Traveler?"

Claire answered before he could speak, "Van is rather ashamed of his heritage. He has done his best to turn his back on our traditional way of life."

"Grandmother, can we stick to the subject. If I have to go through with this, I'd rather just get it over with."

"Patience youngster, I was just answering the girl's question. She needs to know what's going on if she is to do what we ask of her."
"What could I possibly do for you? I came here to ask for your help," I said looking from one to the other.

Claire seemed to be waiting for Van to say something. And when he didn't, she shook her head and answered, "Maybe we can help each other." Claire smiled. "And that's going to take some explanation."

Van walked to an overstuffed chair and plopped into it with dramatic impatience. He glared at me as if to say come on, sit down, let's get this over with. I couldn't resist taking my time to select a chair and meander over with, I hoped, studied nonchalance. I turned back to his grandmother to be greeted with an approving grin.

Claire moved into the center of the room and stood with her hands clasped in front of her. She cleared her throat and began to speak, "Long ago we were driven out of our homeland. It's a sad and painful thing for a people to be without a home. For a while we drifted, never welcome, but occasionally tolerated, across the face of the world. Persecution and hardship followed us wherever we went and some of our people began to hunger for a place where we could be ourselves without fear.

We began to wander into the dark places where the rest of humanity feared to go. Space and freedom to grow were there aplenty, but there were also new dangers we faced. Dark things, evil things, dwelt in these places. Over the generations we discovered a way to force them out of our spaces."

That got my attention.

"Answer this for me, child—if you stand in a completely pitch-black room are you a creature of the dark?"

"No."

"Why not?" she asked.

I tried to consider my answer carefully, though I was sure if there really was a secret to banishing the demons the higher ups would have told me about it by now. "I may be in the dark, but I am a creature of the light."

"Exactly."

I was getting tired of people talking in riddles. "Exactly what? I don't understand."

Claire sighed. "Everyone has within them the knowledge of the light. A birthright that can't be taken away. But the darkness is out there calling, tempting us with the seduction of all the wants and desires men and women crave.

Both paths are open before us, we have free will to choose. Evil, it's a choice some make."

Claire took a deep breath and moved across the room settling down into the wooden rocking chair. She began to slowly rock and suddenly her age seemed to fall back onto her shoulders. "My people have never had an easy time giving up our secrets." She looked over at her Grandson "Our secrets are what have kept us alive. Every generation there are special people born amongst us, they have the gift of pure light. Their merest touch harms the beings of the dark, just as the touch of a demon injuries your kind. We call them the Protectors."
They had people within their group that possessed the power to hurt demons with one mere touch. If that information got out to the DK's there was no way they would allow the Travelers to stay neutral.

As though following my thoughts Claire gave me a withering stare. "The things I'm telling you must never leave this room."

I gave her a slow nod but wondered if I could keep that promise.
She leaned forward and demanded, "What stories do your kind tell of the origins of the demons?"

"We're taught that the demons are creatures that have escaped from their prisons on the other side of the river, from hell, if you prefer."

She gave me a sly smile. "That is partly true but is not the whole story. There are some who, when they die, refuse to cross over. Some have pressing tasks undone, some refuse to believe that they have died. But there are those that fear what the judgment on their souls will be. Folks that have lived a dark life and know what waits for them on the other side."

She gave a sad sigh. "These are the souls that have given themselves entirely over to evil. These dark souls search the world for places of power, or steal power from others, both good and evil, until they are strong enough to once again manifest in this world and continue their evil works. These are what you call demons and your kind hunts them to give them the final death and force them straight to hell.

For more than a hundred years the demons have not dared to move against us. Until now. A few weeks ago, a child was stolen. She is a beautiful child, just two years old and the darling of her family. Her father and uncle were found burned by demon fire, fallen trying to protect their family. And then a week later another child was kidnaped.

We've grown arrogant over the years, and our young men and women no longer train in the skills that have protected us for so long. We did send a handful of our bravest people off to try and see if they could find the children. To be clear, our people were only sent to gather information. Our greatest protection against the demons has been our neutrality. Yes, now the evil creatures have taken our children and killed some of us, but to openly attack them would change all the rules we have lived within, and, I fear, it would put all our people in great danger.

Those off seeking the children were gone for weeks, and in that time more children were taken and many more died trying to protect them."

She suddenly gave me a hard stare. And then answered a question that had entered my mind, but I hadn't spoken out loud, "No, the children are not dead. The demons did not kill them. I know the children are alive."

And her people's belief in her knowing had been strong enough, they sent out a group to go after the kids. I wondered if any of them had made it back alive.

She gave me another pointed look and continued, "Only one tribe member returned, wounded, barely alive. She told stories of a vast nest of demons, all working together on some work of great evil. Most of my tribe have now withdrawn to the most defendable place, but as weak as they are, they'll not be able to hold out for long. They've sent for help, but it could be weeks before help comes, if it comes at all.
The other tribes, their first instinct will be to protect their own children.

The situation is dire, but there is hope. I told you we have Protectors, but those who are born with the gift have always been few—only one or two each generation. But there is one of our tribe who is the most powerful protector ever seen, though, he has turned away from his gift and his heritage." Her eyes turned to look at Van, and mine followed as if of their own volition.

Van sat ramrod straight in his chair, his obvious discomfort visible. Defiance and anger radiated from him in waves.

My mind made a mad rush to add this new information to what had happened over the last twenty-four hours. Some things became suddenly clear, while whole new mysteries leapt up in their place. Why would Van turn his back on his family and his gifts? And what about him made him different from the other Protectors? The questions were halfway to my lips when Claire broke the silence.

"His reasons are his own and not my story to tell but suffice to say that the situation has forced him to come back and face his demons, perhaps more literally than he would like." The obvious love shining in her eyes for her wayward grandson took some of the sting out of her harsh words. "I was trying to convince him to seek out the Guardian Angels to make them an offer. We would guide them to the center of the nest if they would agree to try to bring back our lost little ones. It seemed the best solution to our problem. Unfortunately, he refused to go. And you know the rest. We were too late. Now your group is dead or scattered, and any hope of help from that quarter is gone."

I turned and looked at Van. "But he saved me."

"Yes, and in doing so he changed everything."

Van's voice was low and his face suddenly full of anger. "It's not what you think old woman. It was happenstance that I wandered into her battle when I did."

"Boy, you know better than that. There are no coincidences. It was your destiny to be there and when the time came you couldn't stand back and let the girl be killed. Why are you still denying what you've done?"

When Van spoke, his voice seemed void of emotion. "They didn't know I was a Traveler. They don't have to know we were involved. This can all still go away."

Claire suddenly leaned forward and clapped her hands. "Enough! You wouldn't follow your destiny, so it came looking for you. Stop sulking like a child who spilt his milk. The stones have been cast."

I wondered what his reaction would be to his grandmother's outburst, but he shifted in his chair, his face, and his expression no longer in my line of vision. Claire ignored him and turned back to me. "I've given my grandson a new task. One he has no choice now but to accept, despite the fact that its chances of success are small, and the risk of death is substantial. He is going into the heart of the nest along hidden ways that only we can use. Ways that are closed for all but the smallest group. He is going to retrieve the children. He has taken this task on reluctantly."

"This has what to do with me?" I demanded.

"You're going with him of course," Claire answered. Her voice was so calm and matter of fact for a moment I thought I had misunderstood her.

"Into a nest of demons? You understand that until yesterday I'd never actually been in combat before."

She reached out and patted my hand. "You have proven yourself a true warrior."

"Like hell I have! Your grandson had to save me!"

Claire smiled and patted my hand again. "In the cards I've seen things. I knew that you would return here without any other hope. I know that if you agree to take on this task with my grandson, there is a chance he will return. Without your help there is no hope."

Van turned back to us, his voice was soft, his expression now guarded. "She's a crazy old woman. You've nothing to do with this. If you're smart get up now and get the hell out while you can."

I honestly don't know what my answer would have been if Van hadn't spoken up. My parents had always told me I was a very contrary child. Prone to do the exact opposite of what people demanded of me. It's true that when I heard him tell me to leave, my natural reaction was to tell him to fuck off. Really, who was he to tell me what I could or couldn't do? But I would like to think that it was more than that. Children were in danger. I couldn't save Harry, but maybe this time I could make a difference. Redeem myself for my earlier inaction.

"Okay, count me in," I answered.

Van slammed his fist against the arm of the chair. "You're as crazy as she is." He didn't look at either of us as he got up and stormed out of the room.

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