Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters!

Chapter 26

Visitations

Qualified physicians with surgical skills were in short supply in the wild interior of America. This being the case, I had no trouble at all in securing employment at St. John's Army Hospital. For the past two months I had faithfully looked after my patients on the night shift. It was quiet yet fulfilling work that allowed me ample time during the day to spend with my sister.

Recently I had added music to Ayala's lessons. While in town one evening I acquired my instrument of choice, the violin, from a peddler. I was a violin virtuoso in my own right as I had learned to play it along with a number of other instruments, during my University years. Unfortunately my sister wasn't as taken with the violin's complex harmonies as I and so a few days later I purchased a parlor guitar for her instead. She seemed to like the smooth mellow sound of the guitar much better. Finding appropriate sheet music, however, proved another difficult and I was forced to transpose pieces I'd played before from memory. In spite of these adversities, Ayala was an appt student and we enjoyed playing together.

As I stood before the mirror in my bedroom, dressing for my evening shift, I listened to Ayala practicing a Vivaldi guitar concerto we had been working on together. I smiled as lustrous notes danced from my sisters fingertips to fill the small farmhouse. After one last check of my reflection, a left my bedroom and descended the stairs to the living room.

"That was very good," I encouraged her heartily. "You're playing improves by the day." Her sudden blush did not escape my notice, and I knew that my presence and the unexpected boom of my voice had startled her. I flashed my best apologetic smile.

"Is Cloud ready?" I asked as I took up my hat. She came to my side then, holing my coat over her arm and my medical bag in her hands.

"He is saddled and waiting for you," she whispered as I took my coat from her.

"Is something wrong?" I inquired as I took note of her thoughtful frown.

"You look better without that foolish hat."

I smiled at her as I tended to agree, but as a man of profession and station, a hat was expected. "I assure you, this isn't the silliest hat I've ever donned . . . and you should see me in a wig," I chuckled as I shook my head. "I'm absolutely dreadful."

My lighthearted dismissal did nothing to alleviate her somber disposition. "More that my ridicules hat has you troubled . . . won't you tell me about it?"

She dropped her gaze and my concern increased tenfold. "I wish you did not have to go tonight," she whispered shyly. "I have a bad feeling and I am afraid for my brother."

"Have you been visited by White Stag again," I asked as I gently took hold of her shoulders; I had insisted that she promises to tell me of such visitations.

She answered me by shaking her head, "He has not come to me since we settled here, I do not know why." She whispered. I could easily make out her dejection at not being visited by her guardian. "Please stay tonight brother; I am very afraid for you."

I pulled her into my arms and lightly kissed the crown of her head. Ayala's concern was frightfully touching, especially after years of lonely isolation and the constant ridicule of my father's crass disembodied voice. I held her for several minutes and whispered soothing words into her hair before I reluctantly released her.

"Now listen to me," I insisted gently as I lifted her chin so that her eyes meet mine. "You have absolutely no reason to ever fear for my safety. I am a Sky Being, Little Deer. I am immortal . . . there is no force on this side of the Sky World that can harm me."

"You truly cannot die?" wonder danced in her eyes as she asked this.

I stroked her cheek with the pad of my thumb as I considered how best to answer her. Finally I decided on my response; if Aro could hear me, he would likely kill us both on the spot. "There is only one way to destroy a Sky Being," I began with a sigh. Admitting our one and only weakness to a human was treason of the most egregious nature. Even though I would edit the truth slightly, it was still a high crime, but it was one that I was about to willingly commit for my sister's peace of mind. "I must be struck by Thunderman's lightning bolt which would shatter my body into many, many pieces. Those pieces must then be gathered up and burned until nothing but ash remains. This is the only way to kill a Sky Being.

"No weapon forged by the ephemeral hands of mortal men can cause me harm." I insisted as bent and kiss her forehead. "Had I the time, I would offer you a very compelling demonstration of this fact, but as it stands now I'll likely be late for my shift." I took my bag from her then and turned towards the door. "It's going to be very cold tonight, child, and if I'm not much mistaken there will be snow on the ground by morning. Make sure there are enough blankets on your bed to keep you warm through the dark hours."

As my hand brushed the knob, I felt her slam into my side, throwing her arms around me once more. Her behavior was very disconcerting, and I could feel the unusually strong pull of her gift willing me to remain. I was sorely tempted to give in to the seduction of her gift, but there were others who needed me.

"Ayala," I sighed, I didn't really want to push her away, to discourage her unabashed outpouring of affection. However, I needed to be on my way as I needed time to make a quick hunt before going to the hospital. "I must go now, child," I insisted in a firm yet gentle tone. "I will see you in the morning and, if the snow isn't too deep and the sky is still overcast, we can go for a nice long post breakfast stroll along the creek." My sister thoroughly enjoyed our excursions together and it was a pleasure watching her explore the world.

Reluctantly she released me and then stepped away so that I could open the door. Her still somber expression continued to concern me. I knew she disliked it when I went away to work, but her reaction to my leaving wasn't usually this strong. I put my anxious musings aside as I stepped out into the cold evening air. With a distressed sigh, I started towards the fence post when Cloud waited patiently for me.

About two miles from the cabin I stopped and made a brief but very successful hunt before returning to the place where I left Cloud securely tied. It was nice, for a change, to have a horse that tolerated my presence enough to let me ride. Though I didn't need the transportation, it added a new dimension of believability to my illusion of humanity.

As I approached the placid grey gelding he suddenly threw his head in the air and screamed as he tried to rear up. I was shocked by his sudden skittish behavior; he hadn't reacted this way to me since last winter when we first met. The closer I got to him the more irritated he became and I surmised that he must detect the scent of blood and death on me from my hunt.

"Steady on, old thing," I soothed quietly as I attempted to move closer. "You know me and you know that I won't hurt you." Cloud continued to behave erratically as I drew near, bucking and pulling at his tether. I was very much afraid I would have to leave him tied there and come back for him in the morning.

"Settle down now; if you hurt yourself, Little Deer will never forgive me," I continued. I was about to untie his lead rope and let him run home when the sound of something large moving through the trees set me on alert.

The smell of honeysuckle filled the night air and I grumbled under my breath. She knew better than to follow me, it was one of my most stringent rules . . . one that I had repeatedly mentioned to her. I turned to face the direction of the noise and scanned the darkness for any sign of my sister. Everything was still, and in spite of my inhuman eyesight, I couldn't see anything beyond shadows and trees.

"Come out and show yourself, Ayala," I called angrily. I was furious. What if she'd stumbled across me while I was tracking my prey or while I was in the uncontrollable throes of blood lust as I fed; a thousand gory images of her mangled and drained body danced through my fertile imagination.

"Come out, I say," I called again, this time more sternly. "You're in enough trouble as it is young lady . . . do not make things worse for yourself by continuing to hide from me."

Stillness was my answer and it caused my furry to increase. "To me, Ayala . . . now, before my ire grows any hotter," I barked into the still night air.

Suddenly there was stirring again in the darkness among the trees. For the briefest of moments I considered what recourse I would take regarding my sisters wayward behavior. However, before I could decide on appropriate disciplinary measures, a blinding white light flooded the small clearing and the luminous form of a snowy stag erupted from the trees. It was the largest and most intimidating specimen of Odocoileus virginianus I'd ever seen.

There before me, in all his otherworldly glory, stood Ayala's spirit guardian . . . White Stag.

I hadn't felt a chill creep up my spine nor had my hair stood on end since the day I awoke to this half-life, but I felt it now. There was a certain unmistakable power that buzzed in the air; the sort of thing that one might experience just prior to being struck by lightning. It was undeniable that I was in the presence of the supernatural, a divine servant of the Creator. I couldn't help but wonder if this was what Moses had experienced when he beheld the power and presence of God in the burning bush on Mt. Horeb.

I was dumbstruck. When I turned to flee, I found my feet firmly rooted to the ground where I stood. I felt an unnatural compulsion wash through me as my golden eyes locked with the glowing crimson orbs of White Stag. Instantly my world became disoriented; past, present, and future swirled together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and sound. Familiar images from my past, both human and vampire, mingled with visions of people I had yet to meet and places that I had yet to go. When the swirling disjointed torrent of images ended, White Stag tossed his head back and filled the cold night air with an ear splitting trumpet. The sound was so loud that I found it physically painful. I covered my sensitive ears with my hands to block out some of the noise even as I dropped to my knees in agony.

When my ears stopped ringing, I looked up to find the apparition gone; Cloud and I were alone once more. Still a bit dazed from my encounter, I stood slowly to my feet. A part of me wanted to ride for home as fast as Cloud could carry me. This was an inexplicably strong desire that I couldn't understand and I nearly surrendered to it. However, as I settled once more into the saddle, I turned Cloud's nose towards St John's Crossing and my waiting duties at the hospital.

0o0

I left the small army hospital in the grey hours before dawn; snow crunched under Cloud's hooves as he plodded along the narrow road leading out of town. All night, as I went about my duties, my mind drifted to my encounter with the mysterious and powerful spirit being. Why had he chosen to visit me, was a question I could not fathom. Although I respected Ayala's beliefs, I certainly didn't subscribe to them.

The things I saw in the vision were quite vivid and yet, as the night progressed, the clarity of them slowly faded leaving me with only vague impressions. This phenomenon troubled me greatly because, as a vampire, I had absolute perfect recall of every moment of my life to date; my memory was never ambiguous or cloudy. Right after the encounter, a number of faces from what I could only guess was my future stood out in my mind like beacons, but now, like everything else White Stag showed me, they too were hazy.

I spurred Cloud into a faster gate as we enter the lonely woods near our home; the same woods where I encountered the spirit the night before. Like an old churchyard or someplace haunted by an ancient curse, an eerie sort of energy still clung to the quiet stretch of forest. I felt the need to be clear of the area as soon as possible as I was in no particular hurry to encounter White Stag again. No, I mused as I nudged Cloud along, I could never tolerate being a prophet like Ezekiel or Jeremiah; I simply didn't have the fortitude to tolerate encounters with the awesome majesty of the Heavenly Host.

I was just over a half mile from home and the snow was deeper out here, a heavier band of clouds must have passed this way. I peered through the thicket of trees to my right and easily made out the secluded farmhouse in the near distance. I was nearly home and that fact made me smile . . . but then the scent hit me. It was faint and several hours old, but distinct none the less. Men and horses, a number of them, had come through here in the night. My throat grew tight with fear as I urged Cloud into a full gallop.

We raced into the yard and I leapt from Clouds back even before he skidded to a halt. Three quick strides had me across the yard and on the front porch; my long dead heart sank to my boots when I found the front door ajar. With a mixture of trepidation and haste, I pushed the door open and stepped into the foyer.

"Ayala," I called frantically. My sister's scent was still very strong in the house, not so the scent of the men. They were long gone, but if my senses were to be believed my sister was still here . . . somewhere.

I called to her several more times as I made the tour of the first floor. The house had been ransacked; the men were obviously looking for something. At the bottom of the stairs I paused to listen, focusing my predatory hearing to find any sign of my sister's presence. I was relieved when I detected a faint muffled heartbeat and a soft moan. I literally flew up the stairs, but to my dismay, Ayala was nowhere on the second floor either.

Frustrated and more than a little scared, I paused to listen again. I closed my eyes in order to concentrate better as I orientated myself to the direction of the heartbeat; just as I would if I were hunting. When I opened my eyes again I found myself looking at the ceiling.

"The attic," I murmured, "but why?"

I marched with purpose back towards the end of the hall near the head of the stairs. My hand fumbled along the underside of the windowsill as I sought the hidden switch. Not more than two weeks ago, quite by accident, my sister stumbled across the recessed switch. It opened the secret door and revealed the narrow stairwell that gave access to the attic. The existence of the door and mechanism would not be immediately obvious to the casual observer; I hadn't noted it myself and my perception was considerably more acute than that of any human.

I pressed the switch and waited for the hidden door to spring open. Cold musty air rushed down to meet me from the narrow inclined passage. I bounded up the stairs and into the dusty darkness beyond them.

"Ayala" I called out as I peered between and around the forest of beams and trusses that held up the roof. My sister's scent was stronger up here and I could clearly hear her heart. "Please answer me child."

There was another soft whimper then, which came from the far end of the expansive loft space. I made my way with haste towards the sound, finding my sister lying on the bare wooden floor near the attic's ventilation transom. She was curled in a tight ball and trembling from the combined effects of fear and the cold, otherwise, she was unmoving.

I whispered her name again as I knelt beside her. Her scent reviled on obvious injury . . . no open wounds or sources of blood loss. To be absolutely sure she was well, I needed to examine her more closely. When I touched her shoulder in an attempt to look at her, however, she flinched and whimpered like a beaten animal. I was mortified, never had Ayala reacted this way to my touch.

"Easy child, fear not," I soothed as I made a second attempt to asses her condition. "It's me Little Deer, open your eyes and look at me." I held my breath as I waited to gaze into her emerald eyes and I smiled with relief when she finally looked at me. "Do you not recognize your own brother?"

"Panther Eyes," she mouthed silently before closing her eyes again.

Her heartbeat was sluggish, she was frigid to the touch, and her hands and feet were pale bluish in cast. I hurriedly scooped her into my arms, I needed to get her downstairs and warm her up.

"Have you been up here all night, child," I asked as we descended the narrow attic stairs. She nodded her affirmation weakly against my chest.

All night in a cold dark attic attired in naught but her dressing gown; she might as well have spent the night sleeping under a tree in the woods. I whisked her down to the kitchen and settled her in a chair near the large open cooking hearth. I didn't feel inclined to rush back up to her bedroom and fetch a quilt, so I shucked off my thick woolen greatcoat and wrapped it around her trembling shoulders. My only regret was that my body hadn't imparted any warmth to the garment.

It didn't take me long to poke up the colas in the hearth thus providing a nice cheery fire for my sister. When the blaze was well established, I hung a kettle of water from the swing arm and set it to heat over the flames. A hot mug of stout tea would warm both her hands as well as her insides, and a tub of steamy water laced with peppermint and lavender oils would warm her feet and ward off the chills. I would be very lucky indeed if she didn't come down with pneumonia.

I knelt beside her as I waited for the kettle. My hand, as if having a mind of its own, reached to tuck a strand of her silky hair back behind her ear. "Are you hurt?" I inquired softly.

She wouldn't look at me as she shook her head. Gently I tipped her chin so our eyes meet and I continued my careful questioning, "What happened here, child?"

She stared at me but wouldn't answer, so I tried again, "Please tell me what happened and why you spent a freezing night hiding in the attic?"

"Men came," she replied. I was already aware of that fact, but at least this was a start.

"How many men, my child," by the scent that still clung to the house I could tell there had been multiple intruders. Because the invasion was hours old, however, I could no longer distinguish an exact number because their individual scents had mingled together too much.

"I do not know, I did not see them," she was becoming panicked and I quickly moved to calm her.

When she was relaxed again, I pressed her once more, "Can you guess at their number . . . even if you are wrong, your impression would be very helpful."

"As many as my father would send in a raiding party," she finally answered. "No fewer than four but no more than eight."

Four to eight men, I pondered as I went to the hearth to check on the kettle. That was a sufficiently sized group to be a gang of outlaws. Perhaps they stumbled across the house and decided to search it for valuables. In spite of the state of the house, I couldn't detect anything missing and the floor safe where I kept the household petty cash was undisturbed. On top of that, I could still clearly hear Willow and Flint's heartbeats out in the barn. If nothing else, a band of outlaws would have stolen the horses.

"He was with them," my sister's trembling whisper and mysterious comment drew my attention.

"Who was with the child?" I asked in response as I prepared her tea.

It was a moment before she answered, but what she said made my breath catch. "Henry," the word rolled from her lips like the name of the foulest demons from hell's inner most pit.

"God in Heaven," I gasped. "Are you certain, child?"

"My brother doubts the truth of his sister's word?" I could see the hurt in her eyes as she replied.

"Of course I believe you," I insisted as I brought her a hearty mug full of stout tea. "I didn't mean to insinuate that I thought you were lying to me. It's just that, well, are you sure that it was Henry?"

"I would not forget the voice of the man who held me down and mocked me while my tongue was cut from my mouth."

Suddenly it all made sense; Little Deer's odd behavior as I was leaving the previous evening, my encounter with White Stag, and the intents desire I had felt after that encounter to ride hard for home.

"Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears ofthe deaf shall be unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap as a heart and the tongue of the dumb sing." The words of the prophet Isaiah rattled through my head with renewed meaning. I had been given multiple sings that doom was eminent and yet I chose to ignore them. I had eyes with which to see them, but I may as well have been as blind as the beggar, Bartimaeus. Principalities and Powers beyond the scope of my comprehension were at work in mine and my sister's lives. To what purpose divinity's hand now strummed the harp strings of our present and future I could not say, but never again, I swore to myself, never again would I ignore my sister's intuition or White Stag's intervention.