Murder Under a Mystic Moon
The lore-keeper. The lore-keeper of the mountain—of course! Everything made perfect sense to me now. And then, before I could say another word, the shadow vanished and everything came into focus again. Breathing heavily, I leaned against the tunnel wall. “Shit. Did you catch any of that?”
Murray shone her flashlight at me. “Yeah, I heard it all right, but I can tell you right now, the roof would be tumbling now down if he had been speaking aloud. Who’s the lore-keeper?”
“Don’t you know?” I asked her, surprised that she hadn’t made the connection. “The Klakatat Monster… he must be the creature that embodies this mountain—he’s like an elemental, directly from the earth. A shaman or seer. Don’t you see—he’s not dangerous, but the Warriors of the Mountain are, and they’re his protectors. They told me as much in my vision, but I didn’t realize that’s who they were talking about.”
She studied my face for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry I doubted your vision the other day. The spirit said the intruder was the ‘man reeking of death.’ He’s got to be talking about Bear. But why don’t they just get rid of him?”
I’d been wondering the same thing myself, but then everything crystallized. “Murray, want to make a bet that Bear is head-blind? I’ll bet that he doesn’t realize the Klakatat Monster is real, but that he’s playing off of the legend because people are so scared. Head-blind or not, Bear’s stirred up plenty of trouble.”
“You could be right,” Mur said. “Just because he doesn’t know it really exists, doesn’t mean he’s above using the legend for his own ends, and it doesn’t mean he’s not a catalyst to waking the creature.”
I squinted, rubbing my forehead. “I’ll go you one further. I think that the Warriors of the Mountain can only hurt people who can sense them. Even though they can manifest in our world, they primarily exist on the astral. And not everyone can perceive that energy. The Warrior just said they can’t touch him. Now, I can be hurt by them, and so can you—but only because we have the ability to tune into them.”
She nodded slowly. “That makes sense. And since the Klakatat Monster is a lore-keeper, an oracle and not a warrior, he doesn’t have the ability to protect himself. But Bear can hurt him because the creature is still part of this world—more so than his guardians, living between two realms, two dimensions.” She paused, thinking. “If Bear somehow manages to see the creature, he could shoot it. And I have no doubt that he would.”
“You’re right,” I said slowly. “Ten to one, the Klakatat Monster’s spirit wanders the Dream-Time that all the native cultures and aborigines talk about, while its body rests and sleeps here under the mountain. From the Dream-Time, it watches the world go by, and remembers. But, if somebody wakes it up…”
Murray took over. “Then what’s happening in the world starts to affect it. Like becoming part of the action instead of just watching a movie. And once that happens, it becomes enmeshed in events that it’s not supposed to be participating in. And my guess is that being awake both confuses and hurts the creature. Especially when somebody like Bear is perpetuating a good share of violence right here in its home.” She smiled sadly. “It’s hard enough being psychic as a human. Can you imagine being a hundred times more sensitive than we are?”
I sighed. “I’ll tell you right now, that ‘monster’ has never killed anybody, regardless of the reputation that local legend’s given him. He’s not capable of violence. That’s why the Warriors are worried. They can’t protect him from someone whose head-blind, like Bear, and he can’t protect himself. This probably doesn’t happen often. And when it does…”
Murray nodded. “We’d better get moving.”
“Yeah, I want to find Joe and get him out of here before there’s any more trouble.”
We’d gone about another fifty yards when she stopped. The tunnel ended at an archway, opening into another chamber. Nearby, lay a pile of rocks, but they looked as though they’d been stacked, rather than falling haphazardly.
We cautiously approached. Murray examined the edges of the arch while I began poring over the pyramid of rocks. “This is natural stone,” she said. “It wasn’t chipped out. The tunnel was excavated, but it looks like the miners broke into a cave here. There aren’t any signs of activity—”
“Mur—” I broke in, as I knelt by the rock pile, my stomach flip-flopping. “We aren’t exactly alone.”
She whirled around. “What do you mean? Did the spirit come back?”
I flashed the light on the bottom layer of rocks. In the dim beam, we could see ivory fingers thrusting out from the stones. I hesitantly reached toward it. Smooth bone. “Oh boy. Somebody was here before us, all right, and they decided to stick around.”
Murray sucked in a deep breath. “Shit, another body.” She leaned down and took a closer look. “Skeleton. Been here a while, probably, from the look of things. See? There’s the head of a mining pick over there. The handle must have rotted away. I’ll bet this is one of our miners who originally came down here.”
“This is either a grave, or an extremely effective method of death. What do you think? He had some semblance of psychic ability and the Warriors got him when he delved too close to the Klakatat Monster?” I shuddered as we sidestepped the rocks and headed into the cavern.
“Probably. One way or another, he never found his way out of the mine, that’s for sure.”
As soon as we passed through the entrance, I gasped, holding my breath. The stench of ammonia overwhelmed me, and rustling sounds fluttered from high up on the ceiling. I exhaled slowly and breathed through my mouth.
A shaft of light penetrated the gloom from a small sinkhole overhead, slicing down to illuminate the center of the chamber. The entire room sparkled. Limestone formations, fragile and delicate, reminded me of sea foam, caught forever in freeze-frame. Near the center, a table-sized rimstone pool rippled in the light, filled with cave pearls and dripping water from the broken shaft overhead.
Speleothems stretched from floor to ceiling, long strands of calcite twisting into thin columns. They were nowhere nearly as grand as the ones in the Carlsbad Caverns, but the tenuous pillars were stark and beautiful, with helectites protruding from the surface. Flowstone covered the farthest wall of the chamber, while a thin ridge to our right led up to a ledge overlooking the chamber.
“Oh my God, it’s so beautiful.” For a moment, the dazzling sight wiped my mind clear of all thought.
Murray nodded, her eyes dancing. “Em, this is rare for Washington, I can tell you that. There are some limestone caves here, but not many. I doubt if this cavern has ever been mapped by any spelunker or geologist.”
I shook out of my reverie and looked for Joe. The ground squished beneath my feet and I frowned. Mud? In here?
“I know Joe’s somewhere near here. I can feel him.” As I circled the rimstone pool, I caught sight of someone sprawled on the ground behind a small stalagmite. The baseball bat was lying next to him. “Joe! It’s Joe!”
As she raced to join me, her light bobbing wildly, Murray slipped and went sprawling in the mud. “Oh hell!”
“What’s wrong?”
“This crap we’re walking in is a layer of bat guano and pee.”
I cringed and tried to keep my mind away from what might be crawling around down there in the bat-poop soup. As she struggled to her feet, her light flickered toward the ceiling and we heard a rush over our heads. I looked up in time to see a colony of bats. Murray hurriedly pointed her light toward the ground in order to keep from spooking them.
As I knelt beside Joe, I could tell he was breathing, though his breath was raspy. He was laying on a dry part of the floor, away from beneath where the bats made their bed. Either he’d tripped and hit his head on the corner of a stone, or he’d been targeted by a falling rock.
I cradled his head in my lap as Murray felt for his pulse. “A little weak,” she said, “but he’s alive.” She pulled out her water bottle and splashed some water onto
a bandana that was tied around her neck like a scarf. As she gently washed Joe’s face, I tried to wake him up.
“Please, Joe, can you hear me? Wake up, hon. Please wake up!”
His eyes began to flutter and I could feel him struggling for consciousness. I spoke in soft whispers. We had to get him out of here before the Warriors got antsy. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be here should Bear show up.
Murray touched me on the shoulder. “Deacon should be here by now,” she said. “I’m getting worried. Will you be okay if I take a peek out in the tunnel? I won’t go far, but I want to see if he’s on his way.”
I took the bandana from her and continued to coax Joe back to wakefulness as she hurried over to the cavern entrance and peeked out. As her light faded, leaving my dim one in its place, goose bumps puckered up on my arms. Something… or someone… was watching us. I scanned the cave, squinting into the darkness. Nada. Nothing in sight, but the feeling was growing stronger.
Joe groaned and began to struggle. I helped him, bracing his back as he rolled to a sitting position and rested his head in his hands.
“Sweetie? Honey? Are you okay?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to disturb the bats or other denizens of the cave.
He coughed, and his cough ricocheted off the walls. Wincing, I tensed, ready to leap up and drag him out of the way should a stalactite or boulder decide to dislodge from the ceiling, but the echo faded away without dislodging any rocks.
“I twisted my ankle. Man, the last thing I remember is slipping in the mud and trying to crawl out of the cave. I guess I blacked out.”
Maneuvering the light so that it illuminated his right ankle, I pulled up the leg of his jeans. Yep, black and blue and looking painfully bruised. “You aren’t going to be walking out of here on your own,” I said.
“Shit. I came out here to play hero and you end up having to save me.” He stared at the ground, deflated.
I grunted. “You are a hero to everybody whose life you’ve saved on the job. But Joe, what the hell did you think you were doing? Bear is dangerous. He’s serious trouble. I called Murray. I was going to let the cops handle it.” Both angry and relieved, I pulled him into my arms and kissed him, trembling at the thought of how close I’d come to losing him.
He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. “You’re one to talk. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that bastard attacking you. Chalk it up to testosterone, if you want.”
I snorted, then gently brushed his lips with my finger. “Shush, that doesn’t matter now. Murray and Deacon should be back any minute and they’ll help me get you out of here.”
Just then, a figure burst into the room at a dead run.
Bear! He took one look at us and leveled a gun directly at me. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” he said. He motioned to Joe. “You—tough guy. Stay where you are or I’ll kill her.” With eyes stone-cold sober, he said, “Get your pretty little ass over here. If either one of you tries anything funny, the other one gets a bullet in the brain.”
Knowing all too well that he meant every word, I slowly untangled myself from Joe and stood up, wondering what Bear had in store. I had the sinking feeling that this time, he wasn’t going to take the chance that we’d escape.
Chapter 20
“DO WHAT HE says, Joe. He killed Scar and Clyde.” I glanced at the cavern door. Where the hell was Murray? What if Bear had surprised her? Was she lying out there somewhere in the tunnels, dead? I took a closer look at his gun. Though I couldn’t be sure—I wouldn’t know a Colt from an AK-47—it looked suspiciously similar to the one Murray carried.
Bear motioned to me. “Over against that column.”
“No!” Joe’s voice rang through the cavern, startling the bats topside. Swooshing, a flurry of wings filled the air. “Leave Emerald alone—”
“Keep your mouth shut.” Bear gestured toward one of the pillars that ran from floor to ceiling. “Emerald, is it? Well, Emerald, you just get your pretty little ass over there in front of that stalagmite.” He waited until I picked my way over to the column.
“Bear, you can still get out of here before they catch you. Leave now and you’ll have a head start.”
“Good try, toots, but no go,” he said with a grunt.
As I stared at Bear, his energy flared and I knew for certain that he’d never let us go free. Scar and Clyde’s energy prints were embedded in his aura, they were riding his conscience.
“Why did you kill them?” If I could keep him talking, maybe I could buy us some time.
Bear shot a piercing look at me. “Put it down to settling an old score. And now, sweet-cakes, you better make your peace.” He lifted his gun.
“Please—may I say a prayer first?” I ask
Joe let out a strangled noise. “Emerald—” but I stopped him with a look that said, “Follow my lead.” He nodded imperceptively and I could see him tense, ready for my next move.
Bear sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah, what the hell, but be quick about it.”
Taking a deep breath, I bowed my head slightly, inhaled as deeply as I could, then let out a shriek so loud and so ringing that I could have won an award at a Star Trek convention for the best Klingon death wail.
A stream of rocks cascaded down from the ceiling. Startled, Bear jumped out of the way too late as I hurled my flashlight at him and dove behind the column. The light hit him square in the balls. Score a triple-shot-in-one for the home team! Bear doubled over with a groan, and Joe seized the opportunity to roll behind the boulder he’d been leaning against.
I scrunched myself up behind the stalagmite as several loud pops came flying in my direction. Bear and his gun. Maybe he’d use up his ammo before managing to hit us.
The shots reverberated from wall to wall as I held my breath, squeezing my eyes tight. His aim was too high, too far to the left, thank God, and the bullets ricocheted against the wall behind me. Another stream of rocks fountained down the side of the flowstone.
“We’re sitting under a time bomb,” I shouted, peeking out from the side of the column. Without my flashlight, we had only the muted light filtering in from the ceiling to illuminate our way. I was pretty sure that Bear couldn’t see me, but I had him directly in my line of sight. “All we need is one good shock to trigger a major cave-in. If you don’t get out of here and leave us alone, I swear, I’ll scream so hard and so loud that I’ll bring the whole freakin’ mountain down on our heads. You’ll be trapped right along with us. You know I’ll do it!”
Another trickle of rocks responded to the sound of my voice. Bear wavered. He could probably kill at least one of us—he still had a couple of bullets in his gun by my count. But I was banking on his instinct for self-preservation. He knew the caves here were unstable, and he wasn’t stupid. He had to know that I’d go through with my threat, considering the alternative.
“Drop it, Ian!” A voice startled all of us, echoing from the entrance of the cavern. “Put down the gun and hold up your hands.”
Murray! She was alive! Sweet, wonderful Murray had come to save us. At the sound of her voice, Bear made a dash for the ridge. He raced up the ledge as Murray tried to navigate the guano-covered floor without slipping.
“He’s getting away!” Joe shouted, crawling in front of the boulder, out of Bear’s line of sight.
Caught up in the fray, I grabbed a sharp stone from behind the column and lobbed it toward the ridge, but it fell short. Bear brought up the gun and I ducked back behind the stalagmite as another bullet whizzed by, but my distraction had some effect, allowing Murray to make the last leap to dry stone. She raised her gun, drawing a bead on Bear.
Standoff, a tableau of hesitation. The silence grew thick as the seconds stretched out, ticking away.
“Drop your weapon while you have the chance,” Mur’s voice echoed eerily in the chamber. “You either drop it now, or I swear, Ian, I’ll shoot you, and I shoot to kill!”
At that moment, a movement
from the back of the ridge caught my eye. I was pretty sure Murray noticed it, too, but she kept her attention trained on Bear. A low growl rolled out from the shadows, followed by the sound of shuffling as two glowing, topaz eyes sparkled through the murky light. The Klakatat Monster. The lore-keeper.
“Who’s there? Who is it?” Bear whirled, looking frantically from side to side. He dropped his gun and it clattered over the side of the ledge.
The lore-keeper grunted and I found myself sucked into a vortex that swept through the cavern; a kaleidoscope of earth and water-mana deep from within the land itself, as ancient as we were young, as wise as we were foolish. Standing here in our presence was the very heart of Klickavail Mountain.
Images filled my mind, and I watched as time rolled backward, past the ice ages marching across the continent, back to the formation of the Cascades, when they still played as children in their volcanic infancy.
On and on the images flickered… back to before the ascendance of mankind when we first stood erect and looked around, claiming the land for our own; back to the rise of mammals as wit and cunning took precedence over size and ferocity; back to the reign of the dinosaurs who swept through prehistory on their way to a dust-clouded oblivion. The lore-keeper had been witness to it all and, for one brief instant, he granted me a glimpse into living history.
I took a hesitant step forward as he stared down at me from the shadows, with wizened and gentle eyes. Towering, covered with downy gray fur, he was not human and yet his humanity resounded like a crystal bell singing across a snow-covered plain. He grunted softly and a wave of gratitude settled around my shoulders. Tears sprang to my eyes; I wanted to run and throw myself in his arms, to rest in a dreaming slumber so deep that I might never awake. But then he withdrew his energy and gently backed away. Silently, he disappeared into the darkness along the ridge.
A low rumble shook the cavern, startling me out of my reverie. Bear screamed and flailed wildly as he tried to steady himself. The ground rolled beneath our feet again, and he lost his balance and tumbled down the path to land at Murray’s feet. She scrambled forward, handcuffing him before he could regain his senses. When he was restrained, she read him his rights.