“Yeah, he’s shown me something called a shade that would fit my definition of demons. One killed someone I liked just recently.”
“I’m sorry to hear that young apprentice. From everything Rafe has told me, a Wanderer’s life is not an easy one.”
I avoided rolling my eyes.
Tess nodded. “I got that part figured out. What about you being a prognosticator? What’s that about?”
Joe smiled and winked at her. “That means we give people vague glimpses of what might be and then claim credit for being right, no matter what happens.”
Tess stared at him for a moment and then a smile creased her face.
“Joe used to make a living as a fortune teller at carnivals,” I commented.
“That was in my youth. I haven’t told anyone’s fortune in decades. Too much record keeping by the government these days. They will notice if someone is too accurate.”
“Too accurate?” Tess said. “I would think that would be a good thing, at least they’d know you’re not a charlatan.”
Joe shook his head.
“What Joe isn’t saying,” I explained. “Is that the government would have a use for a fortune teller who was too accurate. True magic users, be they like we are or just carnival psychics don’t want the government’s attention. Governments would want to control our magic. Walt warned me about it. He gave several examples from the Communist Scare days of McCarthyism of clairvoyants being drafted into the army and not in the good way. Others learned to keep away from any overt displays of talent in front of the wrong people.”
“Sheesh, but that couldn’t happen today, could it?” Tess asked.
I glanced at Joe who studied his bottle and remained silent. I turned back to Tess and shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“That’s wrong on multiple levels,” Tess growled.
“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one,” Joe said with heavy solemnity.
“Did you just quote Spock?” Tess asked.
“I may be old, but I do go to movies. Leonard Nimoy’s performance as Spock was profound,” Joe replied.
I grinned, and Tess just sat there with her mouth open.
I gave her a few seconds to let Joe’s acquaintance with Star Trek sink in and then switched topics before she could ask him about Star Wars. “So, Joe, did your spirit totem happen to mention what this help was that I’d need to close the gates?”
Joe set his beer down and looked directly at Tess.
After a second, her eyes widened. “No way. You can’t be serious. I’m a newbie. I can’t be much help in this.”
“She’s right, Joe. Tess is learning, but she hasn’t learned nearly enough to help in a pitched battle with Rowle and his allies. Your spirit totem must have meant someone else.”
Joe shifted his gaze to me. We studied each other for a minute. At last, Joe said, “I will do what I can, but I’m an old man and don’t have the stamina of a young warrior. Does not your Fate plan to help?”
“I’ve told you how Verðandi is. She doesn’t really stoop to actually fixing. That’s the job of the Wanderers,” I said.
“Then have her summon the other Wanderers. If there was ever a time for you to gather to fight a common foe, this is it,” Joe said.
Tess coughed loudly to cover whatever outburst she’d been about to make. Joe watched her until she had composed herself again and then looked back at me. “Did I say something amusing?”
“You’re looking at all of the Wanderers, Joe.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “How can this be? You told me there were two handfuls of Wanderers at any given time. What happened?”
“Rowle happened. Apparently, he made the rounds and looked up all of my compatriots. A couple of weeks back, he tried to take a spell that would open all of the gates and bring about Ragnarök. I managed to stop him, with help from a local coven, but in the aftermath, Verðandi informed me that I was it, the last Wanderer. Rowle killed the others. That’s the main reason I have Tess. We either stop Rowle or the Wanderers will cease to exist.”
Joe stroked his hairless chin with thumb and forefinger from his left hand and gave my words full consideration before speaking. “Well, that puts everything in a different light. When the Great Bear Spirit came to visit me, I had assumed you would be able to call up the other Wanderers to assist in this battle.”
“Well, you know what they say about making an assumption,” Tess said.
I gave her a disapproving glare. This was no time to insult someone as old and important as Joe Leatherneck.
“That you make an ass out of you and umption?” Joe asked with a sly smile.
“Damn straight. Sam Jackson is the man,” Tess said.
“What in hell are you talking about?” I queried.
“It’s a quote from another movie, ‘Long Kiss Goodnight.’ One of Jackson’s favorite roles,” Joe said.
I rolled my eyes, lowered my head, and contemplated the grain of the wooden boards between my boots.
“Damn, Joe, you are awesome. I didn’t think anyone your age would appreciate Sam Jackson.”
“How does the saying go…just because there’s snow on the roof, doesn’t mean there’s not fire in the hearth?” Joe asked.
“Close enough,” Tess laughed.
I got up and walked to one of the front windows while my apprentice and old best friend discussed the merits of some of Jackson’s movie roles.
The long shadow of Pikes Peak was stretching out across the city. Sunset occurred in stages when there were mountains to the west. Although Joe’s cabin had seen the sun go down an hour or more ago, the east side of town looked to have another twenty minutes or more of bright sun before twilight began.
The Springs had been my home for the first seventeen years of my life. I’d entered the Army shortly after graduation from high school, before I turned eighteen, and had a year to get used to the uniform and to get trained
