Cern Stewart walked into the Chicago Federal Building, looking for the office of the Drug Enforcement Administration. His client, Jeff Miller, was the owner of a small dairy farm in upstate Wisconsin, and a member of an organic foods co-op. 

Miller complained of being abused by the actions of Bill Estes, owner and operator of a big farm bordering his property. The complaint seemed legitimate, but the Estes operation appeared to have been careful to stay within legal bounds, and Cern had no hard evidence of wrongdoing with which to form a case.

Until now. The news had broken that a marijuana plot had been found in the middle of a wooded area on the property of the Estes farm. Estes claimed innocence and made a show of having the tiny plot destroyed, insinuating that the "hippies" on the organic farm next door were just the type to grow marijuana on the side, and to sneak onto their neighbor's property to do it.

Cern believed Miller, and thought that a big industrial farm operator like Estes, with his underhanded efforts to push his neighbor out of business, was the more likely to have connections to the drug world. Cern had recalled earlier rumors in legal circles that the Chicago DEA had a map of all the marijuana plots in the state. 

So he called. If there were other plots on farms run by the Estes operation or the big ethanol cooperative he belonged to, it might give him the lead he needed.

Dema Culver was at her desk, having forgotten all about the chief's mention of Cern Stewart in the aftermath of her day of dealing with ghosts. She was pretty sure she had mastered her "double vision," and was going about her normal routine, focused on her work, when off to one side she caught sight of someone walking toward the captain's office. 

She glanced up, and suddenly the uneasy sensations she thought she had dealt with came back with a rush. The tallish, well-built man approaching the captain's office, his back now to her, had slightly shaggy, slightly unruly dark hair. 

And horns. There was a quite magnificent rack of antlers on his head. 

She knew it was Cern, but she had never seen him with stag-horns before. He turned and looked at her as if he felt her attention. His gray eyes smiled at her before he turned back and went into the captain's office. The antlers passed through the doorframe as if it wasn't there.

Dema felt herself gaping and thought, well, so much for making a good impression. She looked around. Everyone else seemed normal. No ghost bodies running ahead of their owners today. 

She gathered her wits, making sure she recalled where the map she had marked was filed. Then she wrapped up what she was doing and sat back waiting to be called. Instead, the captain's door opened and he ushered Cern out, pointing to her across the office.

Cern already knew where Dema was. He thanked the captain as he waved to her. She waved back, gesturing for him to come to her desk. He remembered her well from when he worked on the SAAN case. 

Looking across at her now, with her burnished chestnut hair and skin tone just a few shades lighter, he found himself thinking she was not one who would be easy to forget. But he recalled having sensed something distant about her before, a mysteriousness that had made her seem not quite approachable. 

As he approached her now, though, she seemed to be looking at him as if he was the mystery. No, looking at something above his head. He glanced back to see what was behind him, then ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably, worried there might be something in it. Why was he being so self-conscious?

But then as he got close to her she dropped her eyes to meet his, and smiled. Suddenly his discomfort vanished, and he offered his hand.

"Dema? I'm Cern, Cern Stewart. From the SAAN case?"

She stood as she took his hand and said, "Of course, Cern. Yes, I very much admired the way you handled that. The captain told me you'd be here to see the marijuana map." 

As she stood he noticed that she was only a few inches shorter than his six feet. Her eyes were a dusky green, flecked with amber, and he had the feeling he could lose himself in them. 

Pulling his thoughts back together he said, "Yes. Don't know if you've followed the story at all, but it's been implied that my client might have had something to do with one of those plots. I need to find evidence that points in the other direction."

Dema pulled a map roll out of a file drawer and pointed to an open door on the far side of the office area. "We can spread out the map on the table in there," she said.

Cern admired her long stride as he followed her to the empty meeting room. He held one end of the map as she unrolled it, and helped her anchor its curling edges with a couple of whiteboard erasers. It was a big topographic map of the northern half of the state, and there were dozens of tiny circles on it drawn in by hand.

"Where'd the information come from?" he asked.

"From me," she said. "I was undercover with a drug boss and got to ride along in his plane when he toured his territory."

"There are a lot of places marked on here. Do they all belong to him?"

"No. That guy is history. But you shouldn't ask. That information is a bit confidential." 

There was something in the way she said it that made Cern think there might be quite a story behind it, and the confidentiality might be personal. But right now he was interested in one particular area. 

They were leaning over the table from opposite sides. Cern bent closer to get a better look at the area he was interested in, and was startled when Dema flinched back away from him. When he looked up at her, she was blushing, and had a puzzled look on her face.

"Sorry, Cern. I suppose most people don't react to you that way."

Now he was puzzled. She looked at him quizzically and said, "Forget it, I had a strange day yesterday and I'm a bit jumpy." She leaned back in a little tentatively as he pointed out the area where his client's farm was. 

"Well, okay," he said. "This mark here must be the plot all the fuss was about. But here's another that looks like it might be on the same farm. Let me show you." 

He pulled a road map out of an inside pocket of his suit jacket, and opened it to where a couple of areas were marked off with highlighter. "The yellow is my client's farm," he said. "Red is the troublemaker."

Dema picked up a whiteboard marker and helped him outline the big farm on the topo map. It quickly became apparent that there were going to be three of her marks inside the area.

Cern pointed again to the one he'd indicated first. "This is the one that was found," he said. "It got cleaned up by the farm operators before anyone had a chance to check it out. But the other two haven't been mentioned, and may not have been touched. What do you know about them?"

"Only that they are there," said Dema. 

"If I could prove they are somehow connected to the farm operation, it would make my case. But if they find out I know about them, they'll go into the same outrage routine, how they are innocent victims and organic farmers are all pot-smoking hippies, and clear out all the evidence before I have my proof. I need to move quietly."

Dema looked up at him. "That's some nice country up there," she said. "Want to go for a ride?"

Cern studied her for a moment, and decided he'd like nothing better than to go for a ride with this woman, whatever the excuse. "Sure," he said. "But what exactly do you have in mind." 

"Pack your trail boots. We're going to go investigate the scene of the crime."

"Okay. Day pack or weekender?"

Dema smiled. "I thought you looked like the outdoors type. Better make it the weekender. If we decide to stay longer, we can re-supply."

"Longer?"

"Ever been on a stake-out? If we have to wait for someone to show up it could be a long one. But with luck we'll find something we can trace on the first day."

"You do this sort of thing often?"

"Oh, the tales I could tell. But yes, it's in the job description."

"When?"

"I'll clear it with the captain and give you a call."

Cern marked the two new spots on his road map and put it back in his pocket. Dema rolled up the topo map and filed it away. Cern gave her his card and left. 

As he went back to where he'd left his car, he was thinking she didn't know how right she was when she pegged him as the outdoors type. It was his love of wild places that had led him to become an advocate for groups like SAAN and the organic farmers. It was his calling to help protect the natural environment. He had a very strong feeling that he had never met a more natural woman than Dema Culver.

Back at the office, Dema quickly got Captain O'Mally's okay to do a quiet investigation of the two drug plots. She called Cern and arranged to meet at his place in the morning. Then she sat at her desk, thinking about her meeting with the stag-horned man.

She hadn't seen the antlers when she met him before, but that was her, not him. Her forest dream, combined with the ghost experience, had sensitized her. But this illusion he was projecting had to be a particularly strong one, to stand out so clearly for her when everything else looked normal. 

And apparently he wasn't even aware of his unusual attribute. He didn't duck at doorways, and was genuinely puzzled by her reaction when he bent over the map and almost impaled her. 

Well, would have if the antlers had been real. After she forced herself to lean into the area the antlers appeared to occupy, the illusion had faded, but not entirely. When they stood face to face again before he left, she could still see them, ghostlike. 

She noticed that they grew out of his temples, and his unruly hair fell around them, not through them. Somehow his body knew they were there, even if he did not. The thought that this could well be evidence he had some shaman ancestry excited her. She resolved to ask Sedna about it.