“I’m sorry, Yanosh. I couldn’t see,” said von Holzing, brushing the snow off Straker.

“He can’t have gotten far,” said Straker, “and he has nowhere to go now. It’s just him and the old fortune teller. We can stake out the motel. They may try and come back for their things.”

The two men headed back down the slope towards the motel grounds at the base of the mountain. When they were gone from sight, a silhouette appeared from the shadows behind one of the trees near the edge of the clearing. It was Hector. He walked slowly across the clearing and knelt beside the body of the white-tailed doe. There were tears in his opaque eyes and he seemed to be trembling. An owl screeched, circling overhead.

Straker and von Holzing came out from the edge of the woods into the rear courtyard of the motel. The motel manager waved to them from the office window. He had gone back into the warm, well lit office to wait it out and count the money that Straker had paid him for his cooperation.

Straker and von Holzing came into the office.

“Well?” asked the manager.

“Some of your guests have checked out early,” said Straker.

“We’re staying the night,” said von Holzing. “Can you give us the room opposite 212, across the courtyard?”

“Yes, of course,” said the manager. He checked them in to 312 and gave them the key.

In the morning, the engine part arrived from Scranton and the mechanic made the repairs. The circus performers assembled in the parking lot and began boarding the bus. The barker took a headcount and came up three short. Sonya, Tamara and the young fellow, Josey, were not on board.

The barker got off the bus, walked back to the rear courtyard and knocked on the door of 212. From across the courtyard, two men came out of a room. One was elderly, in tweed and thick glasses, a rather distinguished looking gentleman. The other was barrel chested, strong and stiff, possibly ex-military. The distinguished gentleman spoke to the barker,

“They won’t be coming with you just yet.”

“What do you mean? Who are you?”

The gentleman handed his card to the barker, “I’m Professor Abraham von Holzing. My specialty is the study of paranormal phenomena. This is my associate, Mr. Straker. He is a licensed private investigator. Madame Sonya and the young man and woman have asked Mr. Straker and me to assist them with pressing personal business. You need not delay your departure on our account. If you call your office, they’ll confirm what I’m telling you. We have already been in contact with the circus administration.”

The barker looked back and forth from von Holzing to Straker, and scratched his head. No one said another word. The barker took out his mobile phone and called his office.

The front office confirmed what the professor had said. Sonya and the other two were detained by an urgent private matter and would re-join the group later. It seemed kind of fishy to the barker but what could he do? He walked around to the front, climbed into the bus, and gave a signal to the driver. The bus pulled out onto the service road and the company headed back towards the entrance ramp to Route 80.

Straker and von Holzing returned to their room. They sat near the window, watching the door of 212 across the courtyard. Von Holzing took out his worn notebook and began to record his observations. Straker took out his pistol and wiped down the barrel.

* * *

Hector knelt in the darkness beside the body of the dead doe. A few red drops had dripped on the fresh snow. He felt the lingering spirit of the doe, beyond its material form, the inner soul that had been prematurely freed now of earthly constraint. It was a beautiful and loving soul that had known terror and now physical death. He felt it mourn for the passing of its earthly phase.

“It seems unfair,” said Madame Sonya who had walked up behind him, wrapped in her cloak. “She lived only one life, and that one short. So few years. She deserved better. But her essence has transcended now and we will follow her soon enough.”

Hector said nothing. The snow fell quietly and the forest was still and silent. Josey dropped from the dark branches into the clearing,

“She’s dead, isn’t she.”

“She is at rest and happy. Her spirit is free,” said Madame Sonya quietly, “but we will not see her again until we join her.”

Josey looked at the dead animal lying in the snow, his heart filling with bitterness.

Hector rose, turned to them, and spoke for the first time, “Why don’t you come with me? My cabin is not far. It’s warm and hidden from prying eyes.”

“What about?..” Josey looked at the doe.

“An empty shell,” said Madame Sonya.

They followed the Hector through the woods and down the slope away from the motel. They reached the foot of the mountain, crossed a meadow, and walked along the gravel shoulder to a lonely cabin a mile down the road. Hector gave Sonya his own bed and laid blankets on the floor for himself and Josey. They collapsed, exhausted, and fell into troubled sleep.

When sunlight woke them to a new day, Hector served a simple breakfast of toast and tea.

“You are Vedmak?” asked Madame Sonya.

“I haven’t heard that word for many years,” smiled the groundskeeper. “My mother spoke it when I was a child.”

“An ancient profession. Sometimes friend to the Upwyr, sometimes foe.”

“It’s best not to talk about these things,” said Hector. “I live quietly and am content. I don’t look for trouble.”

“Sometimes trouble comes unbidden, like an uninvited guest.” Madame Sonya sipped her tea. “We are grateful for your help and for your hospitality.”

“I have done too little, it seems.”

“We shall see. Small actions fill the world with great changes. Now, I must get my things from the motel.”

“It could be dangerous,” warned Hector. “The hunter may be watching, waiting.”

“I feel him when he’s near. He wears his anguish like a bell around the neck. I can escape, if he approaches. But will you come with me, dear friend? I don’t want to put you in harm’s way but I feel much safer with you at my side and I think together we are equipped to deal with any exigencies that may arise.”

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” said Josey. “Straker...”

“I don’t sense his wandering mind. He may have gone. But I must retrieve the globe at all costs,” said Sonya. “Josey, it’s best if you wait for us here. Hector and I might be able to slip in and out but your presence draws him like a beacon. We won’t be long.”

* * *

Straker, exhausted, had fallen asleep on the bed. Von Holzing sat by the window, reviewing his notes. He put the notebook down for a moment, took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a cloth. A noise drew his attention. Was it footsteps? He put his glasses back on and saw the old groundskeeper climbing the creaky steps and letting himself into 212 across the courtyard. As the groundskeeper entered the cabin, a large bird flew in the opened door behind him. Von Holzing closed his notebook at watched intently. Through the opposite window, he saw two figures now moving about the interior of 212.

Hector was wrapping Sonya’s cloak about her shoulders. “You’re quite an old bird, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

“I am,” said Madame Sonya. “Older than you might suspect and still able to peck and claw if I have to.”

Madame Sonya looked about the room and spied her travel case and the bowling bag.

“Here’s what I need!” She laid the travel case on the bed and opened it to check her jars of herbs and ingredients.

“Hector! Where the hell are you?” The motel manager stuck his head in the room, “There you are! Where have you been? You’re late. Do you work here or not? I need you to run over to the store. Take the pickup.”

“Now?”

“Of course, now! When else would you do it? When you feel like it? Get going.”

Hector looked helplessly at Madame Sonya. She nodded, “Go ahead. I’m fine here.”

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can, then.”

The two men left the room, shutting the door behind them. Von Holzing watched from 312 as the groundskeeper followed the motel manager around to the front. Von Holzing heard the sound of a car engine starting in the front parking lot.

“Yanosh,” said the professor quietly. “Yanosh, are you sleeping?”

Straker opened his eyes.

Across the courtyard, Madame Sonya felt goosebumps rising on her skin. A sick feeling akin to fear enveloped her. “He’s here,” she thought.

Moving quickly, she opened the rear window of the cabin. She picked up her bowling bag from the corner, leaned out the window, and placed the bag down on the ground outside. Then she turned from the window and hurriedly closed her traveling case. The sensation of chaos and fear was growing more intense and washing over her in waves. The door of the room swung open.

“Good day, Madame Sonya,” said the professor. “I trust we are not disturbing you.”

Straker stepped into the room behind the professor.

Sonya raised her arms. Her body and legs began to shrink and her long silver hair fell from her head as feathers sprouted through her skin. Her nose and mouth melded together and, with a crunching sound, began to extend into a hardened, hooked beak. As she shrank in size, her cloak fell away from her. She wriggled free, flapped her wings and lifted off, not yet completely in owl form, and flew towards the open window.

“Stop her!” shouted von Holzing.

Straker moved quickly and tore the blanket from the bed. The travelling case fell to the floor, popped open, and Madame Sonya’s jars and instruments scattered on the floor. Straker tossed the blanket like a net over the bird-woman. She screeched and fluttered, clawing at the blanket, but Straker hugged the bundle in his arms. He grasped the corners, tied them into a knot to form a sack, and held it tightly.

“I should kill it now and be done with it,” said Straker.

“No, Yanosh. Let’s not be hasty. She’s not the one we’re after.” The professor sat on the bed and wiped his forehead with a cloth. “Let us consider a plan of action. Why chase after the boy when he will come to us of his own accord. We have the bait now. Let’s set the trap. Bring her back with us to my lab. Our young friend will follow. He’ll put himself right into our hands. All that’s required is patience.”

Von Holzing stood up, took a business card from his wallet, scribbled something on the back, and laid it on the bureau.

“Come, Yanosh.”

Straker held the sack with the fluttering owl inside. He took a parting glance around the room, now strewn with Madame Sonya’s belongings, and followed von Holzing out to the courtyard.

Straker carried his bundle around to the front parking lot, put it in the car, and climbed in behind the wheel. Von Holzing came out of the motel office and got into the passenger seat,

“I’ve paid the bill, Yanosh. Let’s go.”

Straker pulled out of the lot and headed back down the service road toward the highway.

Hector, driving the motel pickup truck, passed the black SUV travelling in the opposite direction. He pulled into the motel lot, parked the truck, and hurried around to the back. When he reached the rear courtyard, he saw that the door of 212 was open.

When Hector stepped into the cabin, he saw the open window, the travelling case on the floor and Madame Sonya’s belongings strewn about the room. Hair and feathers littered the floor. Madame Sonya herself was nowhere to be found. Hector hurried back to the pickup truck and drove home to fetch Josey. When Hector arrived at the cabin, Josey was pacing the floor in a state of panic.

“Something’s happened!” cried Josey. “I can feel it. I hear wolves howling.”

“Madame Sonya is missing,” said Hector quietly. “I had to leave her for a short time. She’s not in her room. There are signs of a struggle.”

Josey stopped pacing and turned deathly pale, “We’ve got to find her before...”

They drove back to the motel and, together, they went through Madame Sonya’s things in the room. They gathered up the jars with the precious herbs, the mortar and pestle, the incense burner, and put them carefully back in the travel case. Madame Sonya’s clothes were in a heap on the floor. The floor was strewn with white feathers and long strands of white hair. A cold wind blew through the open window and blew a scrap of paper from the bureau to the floor. Josey picked it up. It was Professor von Holzing’s business card. On the back, four words were scrawled in pencil, “Come to my lab.”

“Josey!” Tricia stood in the doorway. Her eyes were red from crying. “I took my parents’ car. I got here as quickly as I could!”

Josey put his arms around her, “I missed you, Trish.”

“I missed you, too.”

They kissed, long and sweet, and a ray of light broke through the darkness that was enveloping him. In his pain and fear, Josey felt hope again.

“This is Hector,” said Josey, motioning to the groundskeeper standing quietly in the room. “He’s a friend.”

Tricia smiled through her tears and Hector bowed.

“Sonya’s grand-daughter is dead.”

“What?!”

“Straker killed her, murdered her in cold blood.”

“We’ve got to tell the police!”

“We can’t. It’s too crazy. They’ll never believe us.”

“What do you mean? Tell me what’s happening. I can help.”

“It’s a nightmare, Trish.”

A cold wind blew through the window, rustling the curtains and chilling the room. Josey went to the window, put his hands on the sill and leaned out for a moment to clear his head with a deep breath of the cold, clean air. Outside, on the ground below, he saw Sonya’s bowling bag lying in the dirt. Josey picked up the bag.

“What’s that?” asked Tricia.

Josey opened the bag and took out the globe. It was warm to the touch. He placed it carefully on the bed.

“It’s Sonya’s globe. She would never part from it willingly.”

“Look!” said Tricia.

Inside the globe, a thick cloud was swirling and bright sparks streaked through the mist. As they watched, the flashes of light subsided and the dark cloud began to lighten and dissolve into wisps of white. The interior of the sphere turned pale blue. Floating in the center was a miniature landscape. Josey and Tricia peered into the globe...

* * *

To be continued...

Copyright © 2008 by Bill Bowler