The Chaos Tree
Chapter 11
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Dean, Caleb and Sam entered Mississippi through Olive Branch and drove south toward Jackson. While both Caleb and Dean felt the mystery man would have earmarked Alabama as his next stop, all three had agreed to check out the largest city in Mississippi before heading east toward Mobile.
Caleb and Dean had done most of the driving since they'd left Louisville, with Sam working on the box translation in the backseat. Though Dean wasn't expecting to see the black Hennessey on the road, he couldn't help scanning the freeway as he drove, alert for the ebony sports car. Caleb also had been vigilantly searching the passing traffic hoping for a glimpse. After ten long hours of travel, it was after nine at night when they pulled into a truck stop outside Jackson. Dean immediately peeled himself out of the front seat and began fueling the car while Caleb went inside the convenience store for coffee.
Sam climbed slowly from the car, stretching and groaning.
"Got anything?" Dean asked. Sam had taken a break from translation duties to make a list of clubs and bars in Jackson.
"Yeah," Sam moaned, his arms in the air as he leaned back in a long stretch. Finally, he pulled his computer from the backseat. "There are a lot of clubs, but most of them appear to be clustered in the downtown area. Want to check them all?"
"Might as well," Dean mumbled through a yawn. "We're here."
Sam glanced at his watch. "It'll probably take a couple of hours to maneuver through the club traffic in order to check the buildings. You want to spend the night here or head over to Alabama?"
The gas pump clicked off, and Dean returned the nozzle. "It's a three hour drive from here to Mobile," he said. Checking his watch, he silently calculated the time they needed to check the clubs then drive on. "It'll put us there at around three in the morning, but I'd rather we headed on to Alabama."
Caleb walked up with three cups of coffee and handed them around.
Sam took his gratefully, downed a couple of sips before he winced at the thick blackness of the brew. "We're spending the night in Mobile."
"Makes sense," Caleb said, pulling his cell from his pocket to search for a hotel. "We'll get there late, but we can sleep until nine or so, then make a thorough check of the cities we've earmarked. It only takes five hours to cross the entire state."
"Searching the cities adds a lot of time to that five hours," Sam remarked.
"But we can still cover it in a day," Dean remarked. "Once we've cleared Alabama, we'll head on to North Carolina."
"Why North Carolina?" Sam asked. "Why not South Carolina or Virginia? Virginia would be a better midpoint between here and New York."
Dean shrugged. "A feeling, mainly. I think he'll pass up Georgia and South Carolina and stop in Charlotte, Greenville or Raleigh."
"I thought he might have hit a few smaller towns in between his big firework locations of Anaheim and Houston," Caleb said, looking up from his phone. "But I checked Arizona and New Mexico thoroughly; no evidence of violence on that level was found. If he stopped anywhere, it was like Mount Vernon; no footprint."
"Plus there's methodology to creating a spell," Sam added.
"There is," Caleb said. "Based on the cities hit and the circling of the country, Josh speculates this guy is laying a spell, and I'd place a bet on Josh's instincts."
Sam nodded, yawning. His brother had a much better sense of who this guy was than either him or Caleb, and Caleb had a Knight's instinct as to where he would go. While they were all expert trackers, his main concern was the box, so he would leave the tracking on this hunt to them.
Dean smiled, as though he knew what his brother was thinking. "How's the box coming?"
"Pretty good," Sam said, leaning against the car. "I think I have the four lines in the middle of the lid translated. Next it'll be translating the images in the four corners, then the glyphs between the lines. Last will be the symbols along the bottom."
"So … a ways to go then, huh?" Caleb stated.
Sam gave the Knight the finger.
Caleb laughed. "You check in with Alison?"
"I emailed her what I've done so far. She's double checking my results and still has a team working on the other symbols. Trouble is, many ancient language symbols have a lot of similarities. So it's exacting work to narrow it down to the right one."
Nodding, Caleb slipped his cell back into his jacket pocket, saying, "I've made a reservation at the Homewood Suites."
"Not the Hilton?" Sam exclaimed, giving Caleb a mock-scandalized look.
"The Homewood Suites is a Hilton property," Caleb stated.
Dean and Sam exchanged humorous glances.
"You two chuckleheads ready to hit the clubs?" Caleb quipped as he climbed back into the front seat of the Impala.
"We are now," Sam remarked.
"Let's get it done," Dean said, sliding back into the driver's seat and gunning the engine.
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They'd had no luck finding a black Hennessey Venom at any of the clubs in Jackson Mississippi. It had taken a little under two hours to check outside the noisiest of the hot spots. Those were the ones Dean believed the man would be drawn to, rather than the more sedate or relaxed venues. There was anonymity in a crowd. When they'd finished checking around the last club, they pulled onto US 49 heading southeast towards Mobile. Despite a loose adherence to the speed limit, it was still close to three in the morning before they pulled into the parking lot of the Homewood Suites by Hilton.
Checking in so late would have problematic anywhere else, but the front desk personnel at the Homewood Suites were warm and – according to Dean – unnaturally awake. However, they were efficient and had the three checked in and settled in their plush rooms very quickly. Caleb insisted on ordering room service from the limited twenty-four hour menu. Within a half hour Dean was staring down at a thick turkey sandwich with a side of slightly wilted fruit. While it wasn't a burger, he decided he'd better eat. They hadn't had anything in their stomachs but coffee for several hours, so some sustenance was needed, even if he'd rather have just gone to bed. Talk was sparse, as they were all tired after such a long day. Eventually Dean went off to grab a shower and turn in. Sam pushed the meal remnants away and spread his papers out next to his computer. He wanted to see whether Alison's team corroborated his findings on the box lid text.
Caleb rose. "Go to bed, Sam. That box will still be there in the morning."
"I will," Sam said, his eyes on his computer screen. "I just want to check my email, see if Alison sent any corroboration for my translation."
"It would still be there in the morning," Caleb stated, heading for his room.
"It is morning," Sam said with a smile.
"See you in a few hours," Caleb said, closing his door. Once inside, he looked down at his cell. It was almost four, and he didn't want to wake Onida. Gently he reached out with his mind, and a moment later the phone rang. If Onida had been deeply asleep, his gentle touch wouldn't have woken her up. Obviously, she was waiting to hear from him. He smiled when he heard her sleepy voice.
"Hey. How's the road trip?"
"Long and dirty," Caleb said wryly. "How are you and Joshua doing on finding the boxes?"
"We're just getting started, but not great so far. Creating a spell to help me find particles of energy only lets me find lots of particles of energy, like all of them. When I tried it, it was like a million Fourth of July light shows. I thought my eyes were burning out."
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Onida said, smiling at the anxious concern she heard in Caleb's voice. "Adam and Joshua are working to tone it down, but I don't know how they can get a spell specific enough to focus solely on energy attaching itself to cocobolo wood."
Caleb frowned. He hadn't thought of the situation like that. "Doesn't sound like it can be done."
"Possibly not. The world is full of particles of energy. But since they're willing to try, I am too. We're spit-balling other ways to track the boxes, if there are more."
"Thank you for helping us out on this."
"I'm using my training in new ways," Onida stated. "I'm thrilled."
Caleb chuckled.
"We were going to Washington next week. Lomasi and Jacy have their lessons. Should I reschedule?"
"I don't know, but I hope not. Let's wait a couple days, make the decision then."
"Sounds good. Now you, get in bed. I may visit you there."
Caleb grinned. "I'm on my way."
Light spilled through his body as Caleb smiled at his silent cell phone. Quickly he headed to the bathroom for a brief shower. Suddenly the bed didn't seem as empty as it had a few moments before.
.
After getting almost six hours of sleep, it was just after ten when breakfast was delivered to their room. Caleb ate quickly and started gathering their duffels, piling them on the sofa near the door while Sam and Dean finished up.
Sam gave Caleb a slightly disgruntled look and said, "You look far too rested and pleased with yourself. Onida give you good dreams?"
"And you look grumpy and irritated," Caleb countered. "I told you to get some sleep."
"At least I wasn't having dream sex," Sam sniped, then huffed out an annoyed breath when Caleb burst out laughing.
Dean grinned over at his brother and said, "We so need to get you hooked up."
"Since when are you a matchmaker?" Sam demanded, hoping to derail the conversation surrounding his love life before it went any further. He shouldn't have stuck his foot in his mouth.
Caleb caught on to that, though, and said to Dean, "Misdirection. He's trying to get us away from talking about his love life."
"Or lack thereof," Dean added.
"Thereof?" Sam echoed, a sense of desperation in his voice. "Seriously?"
Dean gave Caleb a sidelong look and took pity on his brother. "We should check out the hotels."
Sam frowned. "You think he might be sleeping?"
"After driving for somewhere in the vicinity of fifteen hours, if he didn't stop for the night already, I'm thinking anyone would want a shower and a bed."
"And it's too early for the clubs," Caleb stated, his eyes on his phone. "There are several hotels in Mobile. You want to check them all?"
Dean thought back to the picture, the elegance of the man's clothes, the Hennessey. "Stick to the high end hotels, upper-middle to be safe." After another moment of thought, he said, "Focus on Bed and Breakfasts."
Caleb frowned. "Bed and Breakfasts? Why?"
"Something about the Old World vibe I get from him," Dean said thoughtfully. "I think he'd be more comfortable in a place that's homey, cozy. Not a crowded, impersonal hotel."
"The Hilton is not impersonal," Caleb defended his accommodation of choice.
"They're manned by Stepford people in the early morning hours," Dean muttered under his breath as he shrugged into his jacket.
"Professionalism isn't Stepford to any normal person," Caleb retorted, scrolling through a list of high-end hotels on his cell.
Dean merely snorted softly and hefted his duffel. Soon they were back in the car and heading to the upper end hotels in the downtown Mobile area. After checking the Bed and Breakfasts nearer the coast and the midline hotels near the airport, they drove on to Montgomery, Tuscaloosa and Birmingham, repeating the process in each city.
It was after six in the evening when Caleb demanded they stop and get something to eat. "I don't want a convenience store burrito or a stale sandwich," he stated. "I want a meal sitting down in a restaurant."
"I agree," Sam said quickly. His stomach hadn't done too well after the burrito at the Love's truck stop.
Dean merely nodded and turned into a Cracker Barrel on the left side of US 65 outside Birmingham. Though he would rather have pushed on toward Huntsville Alabama, he could admit his stomach would prefer a hot meal rather than a fast food burger.
Caleb sighed as he climbed from the car. A higher end restaurant would have been more welcome, but he thanked his lucky stars Dean was willing to stop at all. In their own ways they could each be hunt myopic. Keeping an eye on one another and preserving a hunt-rest balance was a necessity. Seated at their table inside, he said, "I checked my email, and Ethan sent over a picture from the Viceroy Club." Touching the screen of his cell, Caleb brought up a grainy photo. "It's not very good, but you can see this guy is tall, and he's got light or white hair." He showed the picture to Sam and Dean.
"That's our boy," Dean said, eyes on the small cell screen. "That ties him to the outbreak in Houston."
Sam was staring at the picture. "It's not a great photo."
"Ethan said his tech cleaned it up as best she could, but the surveillance chip was so degraded, it was a wonder she got anything."
Dean was still surveying the photo. "It's him. The way he holds himself. You see there?" The screen showed a man in motion, his left shoulder leading as he maneuvered through the bodies. Still in profile, the lifted chin and tilted head gave the impression of a person surveying but not partaking. There was an amusement and a certain aloofness to his observation of the crowd. "Behind him you can see aggression, fists raised."
Sam nodded, then said, "Hey!" as Caleb turned the cell around so he could see what Dean was talking about too.
Caleb merely smiled as he checked out the photo before handing his phone back over to Sam. "It'll take another hour and a half to get to Huntsville. I don't think he'll go to the clubs until later, so let's check the Bed and Breakfasts first."
Dean looked outside. It was still fairly light, though it should be dark when they got to Huntsville. "I don't know if he'll stay in the same city as where he placed the boxes, if he is placing more boxes."
The waiter walked up just then and began setting their hot dishes on the table.
"But you think he has more," Sam continued when they were alone again. He took a bite of his salmon and sighed. This was so much better than a frozen burrito.
Dean nodded. "That box…" he shook his head. "It nearly tore David Lassiter apart. It was bad for both of you as well."
"I don't think the box is dangerous on its own. If it were, we wouldn't be fine now," Caleb said, indicating himself and Sam. "Lassiter opened it, and that's when his body went haywire. Once Onida stabilized his cells, whatever was happening to me and Sam stopped. And the box hasn't affected anyone since."
"But what happened to both of you happened after the box was already closed," Dean stated. "That is some powerful mojo."
"Sounds like the boxes are part of a larger plan or spell," Sam said. "Otherwise why circle the country?"
"We only have one box," Caleb stated. "I'll point out again that we don't know if he's planted boxes everywhere he's been."
"If we see him tonight, we'll find out," Dean said.
Caleb nodded. He glanced reflexively out the large restaurant windows, though he knew the man wouldn't be here at the Cracker Barrel. "He'll be there. I can feel him."
Sam frowned. "Can you get a psychic read on him from the pictures?"
Caleb gave Sam a tolerant eye roll and said, "No. I'm talking about hunter senses, not the psychic ones."
"Oh. I wondered if Onida had taught you something new," Sam stated. "I was about to demand that you share."
Caleb laughed.
"But I agree you with," Sam said, shifting slightly. "He's here, somewhere."
"Then how about we finish our meals and go find him," Dean suggested, digging into his lasagna and garlic bread.
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They drove into Huntsville Alabama at close to eight-thirty. Instead of heading immediately for the clubs, they checked into the Westin and got their things into their suite. Sam searched his computer for Huntsville entertainment scene to get a look at the clubs, and whistled. "Wow, there are a ton of clubs, bars and music halls in Huntsville."
Dean and Caleb leaned over and Caleb echoed Sam's whistle. "Wow. That's a helluva lot of ground to cover."
"Can we narrow it down?" Dean asked. "The bigger clubs and the smaller pubs?"
Sam typed for reviews and read through several. "It's hard to say. There are a lot and they're spread out all over the place," he pointed to an online map showing the hub of downtown Huntsville, then sections on the east side and a large section on the west side. "Then there are these outliers here," he pointed to clubs down the highway. "If we figure he'll go in during peak traffic time, we can't get to all these clubs together." Looking over at Dean and Caleb, he said, "We'll have to split up."
"Bad idea," Caleb stated. "We don't know what this guy is capable of."
Dean frowned, looking at the map. Finally, he said, "We're going to have to split up if we want to cover this entire area."
"It's like Huntsville's a party town," Sam stated.
"I don't like it," Caleb growled. Staring at the map, he finally conceded. "Okay, how about we break up the area into three sections and we each patrol our section. As soon as one of us sees the car, we text the address to the others and everyone comes."
"Agreed," Sam said, nodding. "I'll make up a list of the clubs in each area and their addresses. We check the parking lots looking for the Hennessey. If it's not there, we move on."
"He'll go to the noisiest and rowdiest places," Dean said.
Sam nodded again. "If anyone checks out a club or bar that's too quiet, cross it off the revisit list. We don't want to waste our time."
Caleb looked at the other two and stated, "There's a no approach rule in force. Once anyone sees the car, we call immediately and everyone comes. Got it?"
Sam and Dean both agreed.
"Okay. I'm going to arrange for a couple of rental cars. No one," he pointed his finger at both Sam and dean, "leaves until we all leave, got it?"
"Yes, Sir," Sam intoned.
Caleb rolled his eyes and marched from the hotel room.
"He gets crabby when he doesn't like how a situation turns out," Sam observed.
"Got to say, I don't like us splitting up either," Dean said, his eyes on the screen. "But that's a crap ton of clubs and bars. We could just as easily miss our guy as find him in all that."
"Then splitting up is the right thing this time," Sam said. Watching his brother a moment, he added, "Joshua's not here."
"I'm aware, Sam," Dean stated.
"When we find him, what's your plan?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Right now we're getting a bead on the guy, confirming our speculations as to his route, seeing if he really is leaving boxes. We may not even find him tonight."
"But you think he's here; so does Caleb."
"And so do you."
"Yeah, me too. But since Joshua's not here, I just wanted to make sure you didn't go all Galahad on us and try to take him out on your own."
"Wasn't he a virgin?"
"That's what you focus on? He was the epitome of the perfect Knight who was found worthy of seeking the Holy Grail and all that stands out for you is his celibacy?"
"He was a virgin, Sam. How perfect could he be?"
"Shut up and let's get ready," Sam griped, muttering, "I should never have brought that up."
Dean smirked. "He'da been happier if he wasn't a virgin."
Sam made an irritated sound as he stalked away. "Sometimes I just can't talk to you."
Grinning, Dean watched his brother disappear into their bedroom. Yup, teasing Sam always made the day brighter.
Sam snapped the door to the bedroom closed, then leaned against it a moment. Letting Dean get under his skin was like a well-worn jacket; comfortable and comforting. Smiling, he shook his head and went to grab his jacket from his duffel. They were looking at a long night ahead.
.
Sam drove through the north and eastern sides of Huntsville. Caleb had rented two black SUVs, hoping for more power and being less conspicuous in a city full of off road vehicles, trucks and SUVs. He'd driven through the parking lots of Allure Martini Bar and Grill, Moody Mondays Inc and Lenea's Place without seeing the black Hennessey. Each one was crossed off the revisit list due to either closing too early, or being too quiet. The next club he visited, The End Zone, was marked for a revisit, as it was in the University district of Huntsville. There would definitely be more business later in the night. When he got to AM Booth's Lumberyard, he could hear the southern music blaring out into the parking lot as he circled. No matte black Hennessey yet, but he would definitely be circling back to this club.
Before hitting his next destination, Sam stopped by a convenience store and bought a large cup of coffee. Climbing back into his rental, he texted Dean and Caleb: no sighting of Venom. Within thirty seconds both had relayed their lack of contact. Staring the engine, he headed in the direction of his next stop; Sidetrack Music Hall, and the others on his list.
Continuing to watch for the car was his priority, but he was also scanning the crowd for a tall, white-haired man. Height was very difficult to conceal, as he knew himself. While still tall, being six-foot-one allowed Dean to slip through crowds like a fish through water. For him, it was never that easy. While clubs, bars and speakeasies gave a degree of anonymity, he had a feeling this guy would stick out in any crowd. It was going to be a long night, something he'd been saying a lot the last couple of days.
.
Dean drove through the city streets, eyes peeled for the black Hennessy. His only clue that the man might be in the entertainment district was his being seen by David Lassiter in Crossings, and the brawl Ethan had subdued in Houston. But it made sense. Bars, clubs, cabarets; all were places that could show heightened violence.
Like Caleb, he didn't like splitting up. But the sure volume of entertainment venues made it a necessity. Patrolling smaller areas ensured they wouldn't miss this guy if he were here. For some reason he didn't feel like this man came out after midnight, but they would stay out for as long as it took.
His area of the search grid was the outliers, the routes outside of the downtown area. He'd already driven through the parking lot of Ebony's Sports Bar and Grill and knew immediately that the man wouldn't go there. He'd then gone to Fantasia, a dance club with very loud pop sounds emanating through the open door. Definitely a place their mystery man would seek out, so he'd cruised through the parking lot twice. After hitting the Sports Page Lounge and Deli as well as Diamonds Sport Bar, both of which he crossed off his revisit list, he veered west and got onto Interstate 565. Off to the side at the Madison exit, he saw his next destination; Reflections Lounge and Entertainment. Pulling off the freeway, he entered the parking lot and jerked in surprise; there, at the outer edge of the lot sat a black Hennessey.
He circled away from the matte black car toward the other side of the lot and took a parking space directly next to the exit. Pulling his cell, he called Caleb.
"I found the car," he said the moment Caleb picked up
"Where."
"I'm looping Sam in." After a second when both Sam and Caleb were on the line, Dean repeated, "I found the car at a club called Reflections directly off US 565, Madison Boulevard exit."
"I'm headed your way."
"So am I," Sam stated.
"I don't know how…" Dean broke off as a very tall man exited the Lounge. The man walked with casual confidence, wearing his authority and power like a cloak. As the tall man got into the black car, a loud crash and screams from the building had Dean jerking his eyes in that direction.
"Dean…"
When he looked back, the man was already heading out of the parking lot. "Damn it," he muttered, starting the Impala and pulling out.
"What's happening?" Caleb demanded.
"He's on the move," Dean said. "Sam, track my GPS location and I'll call when we hit the next club. Be ready."
Tailing the Hennessey was easy, as sedans, SUVs and trucks were the common vehicle of choice on the roads of Huntsville. The black sports car sped back onto US 565. Dean stayed several cars back until the sports car pulled off once more. They were in Caleb's quadrant now. He followed as the car turned onto Jefferson, then made a left on Randolph, a right on Clinton where the Hennessey pulled into a club called Sammy T's Music Hall. He couldn't help his lips curving into a small smile at the name. Sam would hate it.
The man climbed from the Hennessey and started for the club. Suddenly his steps slowed just a fraction, before his relaxed and confident gait resumed, and he walked up the slight ramp and opened the front doors.
"Damn it," Dean muttered. The guy knew he was here. Grabbing his phone, he hit speed dial two. Sam picked up a second later.
"I parked the rental and Caleb's pulling up," Sam said. "Where are you?"
"Sammy T's Music Hall," Dean said, "and he knows I'm here."
"What? How?"
"He's psychic," Dean stated. He could hear Sam talking to someone, and knew that Caleb was there.
"This guy knows you're there?" Caleb asked, having obviously taken the phone from Sam. "Damn it." It showed the depth of their respect for one another's abilities that Caleb never questioned whether the man had seen Dean tailing him. Dean could follow a car better than most cops. He was invisible. "Okay, we'll be there in ten, seven if we blow traffic lights. Don't do anything stupid."
"Don't blow the traffics lights," Dean warned. "We don't need the attention."
"Yeah, yeah," Caleb muttered and hung up.
Dean closed his phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket. After watching the club for five minutes, he bit his lip a second and made a decision. Climbing from the car, he jogged toward the building. But instead of going inside, he slid around the side of the structure and walked quietly towards the back. Before rounding the corner, he listened intently for a minute, but didn't sense anyone or hear a sound. Edging around the building, he had his gun ready. The rear of the club was completely deserted. Carefully he searched the ground near the darkened windows and the back door until he saw the disturbed earth. Double checking to ensure no one was around, he lowered himself into a crouch and dug gently in the earth with his left hand, while he kept his right on the trigger on his gun. Soon his fingers brushed the top of a small wooden box. Gripping is tight, he pulled it from the earth. He glanced down for only a fraction of a second when he heard the voice.
"Well. Done."
Dean's eyes jerked up along with his gun. There, off to his right stood a man at least six-foot-seven. He was definitely taller than Sam. Before he turned fully to the man, he pocketed the box with his left hand. Stepping very slowly away from the building, he asked, "Who are you?"
The man seemed to be translating the question before he said, "Piruz zadeh Bahid."
Dean nodded. "What are you doing here?"
Again, the man didn't immediately speak, taking the time to understand the question. Finally he simply smiled. Instead of answering, he said, "Merlin's Child."
Dean frowned. "What?"
"Merlin," the man said, and pointed to Dean.
Hesitating only a moment, Dean finally nodded.
The man's smile widened and he started forward, his hand out.
Dean backed up, his gun leveled on the man, center-mass.
Stopping, the smile dropped from the man's face to be replaced by an expression of puzzlement. This era, humanity had less manners and more suspicions. Sighing, he said, "Nihil teimendum est tibi."
Dean frowned. John Winchester had drilled Latin into him as a child, and though he hadn't bothered keeping up with it during his twenties and thirties, he'd brushed up since becoming the Guardian … brushed up in secret. He had an image to maintain, after all. And he'd never steal Sammy's scholastic thunder. Nothing to fear, my ass, he thought.
Misinterpreting the expression on Dean's face, Piruz said in English, "No fear from me."
Dean opened his mouth to say there sure the hell is. Instead, he asked quietly, "Did Merlin agree?"
The smile was back across the man's face, yet this time, there was a ferocity to it that had Dean immediately lifting and firing his gun.
The man raised his hand and the bullets were simply gone.
"Crap," Dean muttered, darting to the side. He didn't get far before he was flying in the air, hitting the ground heavily some twenty yards away. Quickly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of water. Since the hunt at the Yakama Reservation in Washington last year where he'd experienced using the silver in new ways, he'd taken to carrying around water on his person and in Baby. Pouring some onto his hand, he pictured a sword and stood.
The man stopped ten yards away and gave a full on smile. "Praeclarus!" (Excellent!)
Great, Dean thought. He was getting props from the bad guy. Moving forward, sword raised, he said, "Go back home."
"Home," Piruz said slowly, a mood of sorrow laced through his voice. "Domum."
"Domum," Dean repeated.
Piruz simply stared at Dean, and suddenly Dean realized there was no smile, no geniality in the facial expression at all and he instantly knew his sword would be useless. He wasn't getting anywhere near this man. Quickly he pictured the remaining water on his free hand as a silver star, lifted it and threw it at the man.
At the same time, he felt someone try to get into his mind. Even though he knew that as the Guardian his mind was protected against psychic intrusion, he threw up the iron blocks his father and Caleb had taught him to create years ago.
The man stumbled slightly, a look of surprised pain on his face. One hand started to go to his head before he halted the action and instead reached for the silver throwing star, pulling it from his shoulder. He moved to pocket it only to find his hand full of liquid.
Dean had turned the silver star back into water. There was no way he was letting this man have any of Merlin or Pastor Jim's silver.
The man stared at his hand, and the grin of delight was back. "Praeclarus! Mirum!" (Excellent, Wonderful!) Stepping forward, there was suddenly a large ball of flame in his hand which he hurled in Dean's direction.
Without even a moment's hesitation, the silver sword in Dean's hand morphed into a large, heavy shield. The fire hit the shield, crawled across the surface and dissipated. In the next instant he was under a full frontal assault, as magic he couldn't identify was hurled repeatedly in his direction. Stumbling backwards, his shield grew larger to cover him so he could barely hold it up. Figuring his attacker was too occupied hurling an arsenal of magical whatever at him, he pulled his gun again. Jabbing the sharp tail of his shield down into the dirt, he leaned around the edge and fired repeatedly, aiming for the man's chest. Just before his magazine clicked on empty, he heard the gratifying sound of pain. Ejecting the clip, he shoved another in its place before he peeked around the shield again. His mouth opened slightly in surprise. The man was gone. "What the…"
After a quick sweep of the area, he rose and closed his eyes, listening intently. He didn't remotely think the man would leave without finishing what he started. Slowly he tilted his head to the right and lifted his chin, focusing on every single sound, from cars in the distance, tires on pavement, animals, branches and leaves brushing against one another in the evening breeze. Tilting to the left, he listened to the wind. Suddenly he jerked his shield around just in time to partially block a reddish mass hurled at him. Most of it hit the shield, but a fraction of the wet goo-like substance hit his shoulder, causing immediate pain to spread across his body. Clenching his jaw, he didn't make a sound. He wasn't giving this bastard even one hint of satisfaction. How in hell had the man gotten around behind him?
Just then the back door of the club swung open and Caleb and Sam rushed out. Dean felt Caleb's mind touch his, and the pair were running in his direction.
The man known as Piruz watched the two for a moment, then he looked back at Dean. Bowing slightly, he said, "Donec iterum conveniant." (Till we meet again)
Stepping back a couple feet, Dean saw something bright appear in the night, then the man was gone.
Sam was at his side a second later. "Are you all right?"
"What the hell is that?" Caleb asked, pointing to the shield.
Dean released the shield and water splash onto the ground.
"He's hurt," Sam stated, leaning over.
"It's not bad," Dean grunted, shrugging his shoulder slightly.
"You're going to need a new jacket," Caleb pointed out. "And shirts."
Surprised, Dean looked down at his shoulder and indeed, the fabric of his jacket, flannel and tee beneath were burned away, leaving weeping and raw skin exposed to the night. "Oh, and ouch," he muttered. Looking up at Caleb, he said, "Check his car. It's at the far right corner of the parking lot near the exit."
Caleb nodded and raced across the small field behind the club.
Sam fell in beside his brother as they walked slowly toward the parking lot.
"I found this," Dean said, pulling the small box from his pocket.
"Another one," Sam stated, taking the box. Since he couldn't see the lid in the dark, he pocketed it and went back to keeping watch over his brother.
Caleb jogged back and came up on Dean's other side. "The car's gone."
"How did he get there so fast?" Dean mused.
"Do you think he'll go somewhere else tonight?' Sam asked.
"Yeah. I have the box from here. He'll have to go somewhere else."
"We need to find out more about the box," Sam stated, more to himself than anyone else.
"Let's check the next club," Dean said.
"No, we're taking you back to the hotel and tending that shoulder," Caleb stated. "We can check the clubs in the morning. I'm calling in Joel Neubridge and Daniel Rios. They just finished taking out those two black dogs in Carthage Mississippi. They can get here by tomorrow. They'll help us look for the boxes."
"We need to at least check Reflections," Dean said. "I know he was there."
"I'll check the club," Caleb stated.
"No." Dean grimaced as a stabbing pain went through his shoulder. "You were right, we should stay together."
"Now you say that," Caleb sniped. Sighing, he said, "All right, let's go to Reflections. Then we head back to the hotel. We can retrieve the second rental later."
Dean nodded. He climbed into the passenger's seat of the Impala while Sam got behind the wheel and Caleb jogged back to Sam's SUV. He tucked in behind the Impala as they drove back down US 565. When Dean pointed out their exit, both cars headed down the streets until they pulled back into the parking lot of Reflections Lounge.
"You see his car?" Dean asked.
Sam did a couple of turns around the parking lot and said, "No." Like Dean had earlier, he parked near the exit and opened the door. "I'm going to check out the building."
Caleb strode up to the Impala as Sam climbed out. Together, he and Caleb drew their weapons and jogged toward the building. Dean sat in terse silence until the two returned to the car some ten minutes later.
"There's a hole in the ground under one of the rear windows," Caleb said, leaning in the driver's side window.
"We think he went back and dug up the box."
Dean nodded, then winced.
Caleb took note. "Let's get back to the hotel," he said, returning to the SUV. When they got to the Westin, Caleb circled the lot to make sure there was no black Hennessey around before he pulled up to the building and parked. Getting out, he walked over to the Impala as Dean was climbing slowly from the car. "Go in the side entrance and take the stairs up to our room."
"I know the drill," Dean groused as he straightened.
"We're going to pick up the other rental," Caleb said. "I don't want to leave it on the streets."
"I'll take care of that shoulder when we get back," Sam said, giving Dean's good shoulder a comforting squeeze.
Sam and Caleb drove off as Dean walked into the hotel. Now that his adrenaline rush had subsided, the pain was making itself felt loud and clear. His encounter with Piruz … whatever his name was, had been too short. There hadn't been time time to provoke or irritate him into revealing any portion of his plans. A small smile twisted his lips. His father has always been aggravated when he verbally poked at the monsters. But he did so for a purpose; well, a purpose other than what Sam had declared was a perverted sense of enjoyment. When anyone, monster or man, was annoyed or enraged, they let things slip they wouldn't normally have said. He'd gathered a whole lot of intel that way through the years. Not tonight, however. The man was a witch, that was clear. But what was he doing and where he'd gone remained a mystery. One thing they had now proved, was that they could find him, and they would find him again. It was only a matter of time.
His keycard opened the door to the double suite Caleb had rented for them. Letting the coat slid from his shoulders, he walked into the bedroom on the left and dropped onto the mattress. Sighing, he quickly fell asleep.
That's where Sam found him an hour later. "Dean," he said, giving his brother's shoulder a gentle shake. "Come on, let me look at your shoulder." He waited a moment, then shook the sleeper again. "Dean."
Moaning softly, Dean rolled over and blinked up at the face leaning over him. "Sam … how'd you get here so fast?"
"Not so fast," Sam smiled. "We picked up the rental across town and brought it back. The rental company will pick up the cars in the morning. Come on, sit up. I need to tend your shoulder. It's obvious you didn't even wash it yet," he scolded. "What's the matter with you?"
Dean pushed himself up, then groaned again.
"Come on," Sam said, tugging on Dean's shirt sleeve. "Let's get this off."
Dean shrugged out of his flannel while Sam brought over the first aid kit. When he started for the t-shirt, Sam said, "I'll cut it off." A couple of slices later and the remains of the shirt hit the carpeted floor.
"I liked that T-shirt," Dean murmured.
"You like all your T-shirts," Sam said, smiling. He examined the wound on Dean's shoulder, while asking, "What was he like?"
"Tall," Dean grunted, as something cold touched his shoulder. "I was right; he's Middle Eastern. He doesn't speak English very well, though he understands more than he lets on." Taking a sip of the water Sam had brought in, he continued, "He tried to get into my mind."
"And failed," Sam said with a smile.
"Yeah. But I put up my blocks anyway. I think that surprised him."
The hotel room door opened and Caleb walked in. Coming straight into the bedroom, he bent over to check out Dean's shoulder. Dean knew better than to protest, so he just sat there and let his shoulder be inspected again.
"Looks like an energy burn," Caleb said, stepping back and pulling over a chair. "Too bad Onida's not here. She'd heal that right up." Though his lips were smiling, concern was fresh in his eyes.
"I'm fine," Dean said, giving his best friend a smile. "Sammy's doing his doctor thing."
"And Dean was telling me about the man."
"Piruz something or other," Dean said, frowning slightly. "I think he was offended that I didn't give him my name in return. He called me Merlin's Child."
"Seriously?" Caleb exclaimed, leaning forward. "He knows about Merlin?"
"Seemed to. He said we had nothing to fear from him. I asked if Merlin would agree, and that's when he attacked. So I'm guessing he knows of him … or knew him," Dean finished.
"Excuse me?" Caleb said as Sam's brows rose in surprise.
Suddenly Dean yawned, and Sam said, "Let's go over this tomorrow. How about we order something to eat from room service and get some sleep."
Caleb nodded and rose. Going to the phone, he put in an order for three burgers, fries and side salads, then gave their room number. When he finished, he said, "I'm putting up more protection symbols tonight. I don't want this guy coming for a visit."
Sam nodded and readied the chalk to make the symbols. Dean's eyes were half mass as he headed into the main room and dropped onto the couch. All he really wanted to do was go to bed. He was so tired. Suddenly he sat up, saying, "Do you think whatever that guy used on me could be draining my strength? I'm not usually this tired after a fight."
"I don't know," Sam said. Picking up his phone, he hit speed dial five, and a moment later Joshua picked up.
"Are you all right?" Joshua asked.
"Dean had an encounter with our mystery man," Sam said, "an aggressive one."
"Is he all right?"
"He's fine, except for a burn on his shoulder from magic." Sam's eyes went to Dean. "He said he was feeling unusually tired, and we were wondering whether there were spells that would drain a person's energy."
Joshua frowned. "Spells, yes. Describe the wound."
Sam told him about the burn and the weeping of blood and puss.
"It's still weeping?"
"Yeah, but it's slowing down now that he's resting."
"Can Dean tell you what the substance felt like?"
Sam asked his brother, and Dean said, "Like warm silly putty."
"Goop," Sam translated.
"I don't think there's anything to worry about. A draining spell would feel more peppery, prickly as it drew energy from the body. You've been traveling since this morning, and searched two cities before you hit Huntsville. Then he has this encounter with a complete unknown. I think it's just age catching up with him."
Sam grinned and eyed his brother. He didn't plan on repeating that last part. "Okay. We'll get to bed early and see how he feels in the morning."
A knock on the door signaled their meals had arrived. Caleb pulled the cart inside. "Thank you. I'll leave the cart out in the hall in the morning," he told the waiter, tipping him then closing the door. Immediately he started on the protection symbols.
Sam went to the other side of the room and began chalking up some symbols while Dean pushed himself up off the couch and salted the windows in the main suite, then in both bedrooms. When he returned to the main room, he dropped down in a chair at the table.
"Come on," Sam said. "Eat something. That's probably why you're tired."
Caleb sat down opposite and pulled a plate off the tray. Popping the plastic cover, he set the plate down in front of his friend. "Eat."
Over the meal, Dean told them everything that had happened at Sammy T's, from Piruz entering the venue, to his deciding to check and see if a box had been left. Taking another bite of his burger, he could admit that he felt better. He finished up with the man disappearing, then reappearing behind him.
"How did he do that?" Sam asked, frowning.
"He isn't a demon, is he?" Caleb asked. They hadn't seen demons in several years, but that didn't mean there weren't some around.
"No, and no idea how he disappeared and reappeared," Dean said, pushing the last bite of burger into his mouth. After a moment of chewing, he mumbled, "There was a light after you guys came."
"A light?" Caleb asked. "What light?"
Dean swallowed. "Don't know. You guys came out the back door. There was a round light, then he was gone."
Caleb shook his head, perplexed. Finally, he said, "I vote we skip checking cities in Georgia and South Carolina and head directly into North Carolina. If you think New York is his last stop, makes sense he'd hit a mid-size city there."
"Agreed," Sam said. Looking to Dean, he said, "I think Joshua should fly into Charlotte, maybe Onida too."
"Have they figured out a way to track the boxes?" Dean asked. "Finding a box tonight means he's probably left ones in other places."
"I'll call Onida and find out later," Caleb said. "If worse comes to worse, we call in some help and have hunters check the clubs in the affected cities." Standing, he said, "Now, though, we're getting you to bed."
Dean's eyes widened. "Seriously? I'm being put to bed?"
Sam laughed and rose. "Yup. We've got to leave early tomorrow to get you a new jacket."
Dean rolled his eyes, but wasn't too put out. He wanted to make a couple calls. "All right, I'll take a shower, then make some calls. JT will be wondering where we're at."
"I'll come treat the shoulder when you're done," Sam said, still working on his meal.
Dean nodded and disappeared into their bedroom.
Caleb waited until Dean was gone, then said, "I don't like that this guy apparently knows Merlin."
"Or about Merlin," Sam clarified.
Caleb shook his head. "Dean said he had the feeling this guy was old. For some reason I'm thinking he is, and he actually knew Merlin."
"How is that possible?" Sam asked, putting down the last bite of his hamburger.
Caleb's appetite fled, and he also dropped his burger onto his plate. "I don't know. Do you have the picture Dean was studying? I want to see if I can see what he's seeing."
Sam nodded and dug in his computer case, pulling out the grainy picture. "Good luck. I think we're going to need it."
2413 BC…
The city center was bustling with commerce. Trade for grain, wine, herbs, spices and fabrics were being conducted in the massive plaza. That's where his family set up their stalls when the traveled to Petra to sell and trade cloth. They were textile merchants and owned a large business in Eridu dealing in woven and dyed cloths as well as imported fabrics. Near the temple area, animals were being sold as sacrifices. The two largest temples were for Dushara, the supreme deity and official god of the Nabataeans, and a smaller temple for Al-'Uzzá, the goddess of the evening star, both important deities for Petra. However, there was a third temple for the worship of foreign gods such as Ashtoreth and Baal, Enlil, Ashur, Ishtar and Ea. Basically, for any other god travelers wished to worship and ask for safe journey blessings.
Around the pools down the long colonnade stretching out before the temples of Petra, the greatest teachers and thinkers were exchanging ideas and pontificating, trying to impress one another as well as bystanders. This was the place he loved most. There were philosophers, thinkers, historians, astrologers, writers and poets. Those skilled in herbs, potions and magiks also shared their knowledge and gathered more from around the world. It was a place of intellectual bounty available for the asking. In his home city of Eridu, there were thinkers and teachers, but not like within the great city of Petra.
Eridu was in Southern Mesopotamia and stood close to the Nile. There were many small settlements in Mesopotamia, and some cities of decent size. But Petra was the center of trade and civilization. Their technologies were second to none, and he loved experiencing the architecture, the waterways and learning ideas from around the world.
Petra also offered another avenue of knowledge, one that was less assessable to most travelers. Located in the outer chamber of one of the largest tombs called The Treasury, was a secret place for magical learning. This was where the sorcerers, the conjurors, potion and spell masters worked. He had always had a natural talent for magiks. He read the stars and the seasons, could mix potions, and wrote his own spells. Here, his talents were appreciated and valued. Here, he could pour over the oldest of tablets and stone carvings gathered from the outer edges of the world. These most ancients of tomes were treasured, and only the most revered magician could supervise his studies. Yet he yearned for even more knowledge, to push the boundaries of magik.
Though Petra was a thoroughly modern city, there were practices and practicians that were shunned, even in such a progressive metropolis. Those who practiced the dark arts were the darkest of magicians; the occultists. For their teachings, he went into the deepest canyons just outside the city. He was welcome there, not only for his knowledge, but for his razor-sharp magical instincts and extreme talent. He absorbed their teachings as fast as they passed them on. But even those most learned of the dark magicians had not made the discoveries he had.
"hnak eawalm 'ukhraa ghyr hdha alealam." he told them one day during his visit to Petra. (There are other worlds than this one).
The robed men of the hidden society laughed.
"Piruz, hunak ealam wahid faqat." (Piruz, there is only one world)
"laqad katabt taewidhatan. laqad ra'ayt min khilal alhijab." (I wrote a spell. I have seen through the veil).
Silence greeted his announcement.
The oldest of the occultists said, "hal ra'ayt almawt?" (You have seen Death?)
Piruz frowned in puzzlement and shook his head. "la , laqad ra'ayt ealmana akhiran. ealam mithl hdha walakuna mae al'ashjar waltalal waleashb al'akhdar." (No, I have seen another world; a world like this one but with trees and hills and green grass).
Several of the men threw their pleated robes over their heads in horror.
The older leader walked up to Piruz. Leaning forward, he hissed urgently, "la mazid min al'akadhiba. Yjb 'an la tatahadath ean hdha marat 'ukhraa." (No more lies. You must not speak of this again).
Piruz was stunned. If there was anywhere he had thought his knowledge, his discoveries would be welcomed, it was here. Yet they were as backward and ignorant with regards to the possibilities and the reach of magik as the honored thinkers. Rising, Piruz gave a small bow and walked from the cavern and the canyons, never to return.
.
Eridu: fifteen years later
Piruz bent over a vast stone jar, stirring. In his family's business of weaving and dying fine cloths, he was the dye castor. It was his job to mix the dyes, then to place the fabric in the jars and keep the cloth moving so the color would spread evenly and not take to one section of the fabric more than another. His family was noted for their perfect fabric weaves and an impressively even color all throughout the cloth. Purple dye was the most difficult to make, a luxurious color the most arduous to achieve. It was a meticulous job, but one he enjoyed; it allowed him to consider the worlds out there to explore. But he was pulled from his usual reverie by raised voices outside.
"nuh yabni qarbana fi alsihra'!" (Noah is building a boat in the desert!)
There was laughter following this pronouncement.
"qarb? kayf ealimt bdhlk? 'iinah yabni shyyana limudat khamsin eamana!" (A boat? How do you know? He's been building something large for fifty years!)
"laha shakal mumayaz alana. tueal wanzar!" (It has a distinct shape now. Come see!)
Frowning, Piruz pulled the cloth from the jar and quickly hung it up to dry before heading to the door.
"'ayn?" the baker from the shop next door exclaimed. (Where?)
"aitbieani! (follow me), aitbieani!"
Piruz stepped outside to see several men trailed by a few women trotting down one of the dirty streets of Eridu. Curious, he followed. It was almost an hour before they came to the man called Noah's encampment and saw the rudiments of a massive structure. Frowning, Piruz walked slowly around the construction, keeping his distance. The other people, many from Eridu, others from the neighboring towns and nomadic encampments nearby were laughing and jeering at those painting long pieces of wood with pitch. However, Noah and his sons didn't answer the scoffers. They merely continued their work.
A boat in the desert, Piruz snorted softly to himself. There wasn't time for such nonsense, and he soon bored of the laughter and ridicule. Turning, he walked back to Eridu and his neglected duties.
53 Years Later…
Piruz zadeh Vahid had several people working in his parents dye shop now. His parents still participated in the business to some extent, but it was his oldest brother who now ran the front shop while a younger brother supervised the weaving and craft arts of enhancing silks and linens. His last two brothers traveled to far off lands to acquire unique silks and cloths. His job was to survey the dying of fabrics and the marketing. In the last fifty years the towns surrounding Eridu had grown larger, and he'd added them to his route on his trips to Petra. He'd continued to study, and had now garnered some attention, not all of it positive. His parents insisted he be the one to lead all of the sales trips, with a mind to getting him out of the city. He hadn't minded that at all. He took very few servants with him on his trips, instead choosing to hire nefarious characters that wouldn't ask too many questions when odd things happened, and who wouldn't be missed if they never returned.
It was midweek, and he was loading the caravans with clothes, silks, veils and fabrics for his sales trip when it started to rain. Rain in the desert was sparse at any time, but rain at this time of year was unusual. Still, he climbed atop his horse and his caravan of merchandise and servants started out for the first city on their sales trip. By the time they reached the second city on their route, the rain was heavier and had been continuous for more than ten days. People were talking, whispering. He finished his business with several distracted customers – which allowed him to charge more than the usual price – and headed out for the third city on his way toward Petra. When the caravans bogged down several times en route, he began to feel concerned. It was a push to make it into town, where he purchased lodging for him and his men. He was eating dinner in the common room when he heard the talk.
A large robed man with a long beard was saying, "waqad ghamarat almiah aledyd min almanatiq alkharijiati." (Several of the outer areas have flooded all ready.)
Across from him, another man asked, "lamada yahdeth hudhall hill aguzbena al-alhah?" (Why is this happening; have we angered the gods?)
"lays alihatina , 'iilah nuhu. allah almajhul bila asma." (Not our gods, Noah's god. The unknown God with no name).
Shaking his head, as though he didn't believe, a third man took a long draught from his wine. "nuh wa'asratah muhasirun fi dhalik alqarib alkabir. kan alnaas yatriqun lildukhul , lakanh ln yajiba." (Noah and his family are locked up tight in that big boat. People have been knocking to get in, but he won't answer).
A very young man in expensive robes listened intently to the other men at the table. "hal sanaghraq?" (Are we going to drown?)
Another man leaned in close and pulled the younger man to his side. "bialtabe la. 'iinah mjrd 'amtar ghyr mutawaqaeatin. sawf yatawaqaf qaribana." (Of course not. It's just an unexpected rainfall. It will stop soon.)
But it didn't stop. It kept raining and raining. Worried, Piruz turned the caravan around and started the return journey toward Eridu. From what he heard from travelers along the way, people were running to Noah and his ark, pounding on the sides and asking for entry. But the enormous boat remained shut tight. And still the rain fell. When he reached home, his family had already packed up several camels and made plans to head for the mountains in the distance. It was an arduous journey, as the roads were nearly impassible with water. By the time they got to the mountain ridges, they were wading.
"aibda altal," said Piruz' father. (Start up the hill.) Harassed and worried, he pushed his wife and their four daughters to the hillside. Turning, he motioned for his sons to lead the camels up the side of the mountain.
Piruz blinked upward through the rain and knew they would never be safe. Approaching his father, he said, "ymknny 'an akhidhana 'iilaa makan amin." (I can take us somewhere safe.)
Frowning, his father eyed him and asked, "madha taeni?" (What do you mean?)
Piruz looked over at his mother, his sisters, his brothers and their servants wading through the water to climb the side of the mountain. Taking a deep breath, he said, "ymknny fath nafidhat bayn alealamina. 'astatie 'an akhadhna fi makan amin." (I can open a window between worlds. I can take us somewhere safe.)
"yashrh," his father demanded. (How?)
"sahar," Piruz stated. (Magik.)
"sahar 'asuda! alsihr alsharir!," his father exclaimed. (Dark magik! Evil magik!)
Piruz snorted in derision. "'iinah sharayan alhayati. yuzhir alsihr alwala' lil'aqwaya'a. 'ana qawiun , ldhlk 'aqwas sahriatan li'iiradati." (It is a lifeline. Magik shows allegiance to the strong. I am strong, so magik bows to my will.)
" alainhina'," his father hissed in horror. (Bows…)
"neim. 'ana syd alshr. tueal maei waeaysh." (Yes. I am the master of magik. Come with me and live.)
"ghyr tabieiin…" his father whispered as fear entered his eyes. "yjb 'an nathiq fi 'iinlil , 'iilah alriyah walhua' wal'ard waleawasif , rayiys kli alalihat. siahmina." (Abomination… We must trust in Enlil, God of wind, air, earth and storms, the chief of all gods. He will protect us.)
"ln yhmina li'anah la yastatie dhalik. lkn yumkinuni 'an 'anqadhana!" (He won't protect us because he cannot. But I can save us.)
Horrified, his father shouted, "barra utuk xul!" (Begone evil spirit!)
Piruz stared at his father for a long moment, then slowly bowed. "kunt 'atamanaa hu 'amri." (You're wish is my command.) Turning, he muttered a few words and a spot of light appeared in the middle of the rain. Slowly the light grew and dappled mountains, green trees, lush gardens and a brilliant blue sky appeared. When the window was large enough, Piruz walked through the doorway into sunlight. Turning, he looked back into his old world, at the rain pouring in sheets onto the desert landscape; he looked into his father's eyes and murmured, "wadae al'ab 'iilaa al'abad." (Farewell forever, Father.)
Joshua sighed and put down the silver teaspoon he'd been using.
Adam looked up. "You need some rest."
"As do you," Joshua said with a weary smile. "We've been at this for hours."
Adam chuckled softly. "I know. Trying to find something to make an atom or particle circling a blank spot big enough to track isn't an easy task, especially when we can't use it on the particle itself."
"It is a dilemma," Joshua agreed. Sighing he sat back, frowning. "We can't make the particle appear bigger?"
"I think we tried that four hours ago," Adam said, taking a look at his notes.
"Oh, right." Joshua sighed and looked through the kitchen doorway to where Onida had fallen asleep on his couch. Carolyn and Nicholas had gone to bed hours ago, and the puppies were asleep on a cushion in their pen. Turning back to his computer, he stared at the screen. Maybe they were going about this the wrong way. "All right, what about helping Onida detect the cocobolo wood?"
"She also tried going at that in several different ways," Adam said. "She couldn't detect anything."
Joshua closed his eyes, weariness clouding his thoughts. Finally, he said, "Cocobolo wood encases strong magic or curses so they can't get out. As such, it relates like a blank spot on the energy scale."
Adam nodded, but didn't add anything, just letting Joshua talk it out.
"But for some reason, whatever is encased in this box appears to be pulling in or absorbing particles of light."
"You also said the box could be routing the particles way from itself," Adam interjected.
"Yes. Either way, it seems whatever is encased in the box is doing something unique." Brow creased in thought, Joshua continued, "All right, suppose we go with the speculation that whatever is inside is more powerful than the box. Over time, would it infuse the wood with its own power?"
Adam blinked. "You're suggesting that whatever is inside could be so powerful, it would transform wood noted for its ability to contain magic." The prospect was extremely frightening.
Joshua nodded.
"What could possibly be that powerful?" Both he and Joshua were extremely well studied in crafter arts; in herbalism, botanics and potions, and Joshua had additional resources due to his involvement with the Brotherhood.
"A magic we've never heard of before," Joshua stated uneasily.
Adam let the silence stretch out for a moment, before he said, "Of course, this is all speculation."
Joshua gave a soft chuckle. Everyone had been saying that a lot over the last few days.
Adam ran his fingers through his hair. "Question: If this really is something too powerful to be contained, what do we do when it gets out?"
"We deal with it. But right now, we need to renew our efforts to find the boxes. I don't want something with that much power in the hands of anyone other than the Brotherhood."
Adam nodded. If he hadn't come to know the Brotherhood and to respect what they did, he would have been blissfully ignorant that something out there might be more powerful than the strength of cocobolo wood to contain. "Then once we find the boxes, we figure out a way to contain whatever is inside."
"Exactly," Joshua said with more confidence than he felt.
"Even though we have no idea of what that could be," Adam stated sardonically, a glint of humor in his eyes.
Joshua smiled. "Even though." He needed to call Dean, to call Sam and Caleb. A glance at the kitchen clock revealed it was after one in the morning. No wonder he and Adam were exhausted. They needed sleep if they were to find a technique to detect what could be termed as irradiated cocobolo wood.
Sam was bent over his computer. He'd gotten an email from Alison that confirmed the translation of the four middle lines on top of the wooden box. They hadn't figured out any of the rest of it meant yet, but they would. Adding some particles for clarity, the top of the box read:
Hidden in space and time
A place where once mankind dwelled
Wailing for knowledge gained, innocence lost
Beware, chaos, heed the warning, halt unlock
Sam frowned. What did it all mean? He wondered if the four symbols in the corners added something to the whole, or whether the symbols between the lines mitigated part of the verse. Hidden in space and time… Time obviously referred to something old, possibly even ancient. But space? In ancient times space would mean the skies, the heavens. Could this be philosophizing, some lofty concept?
A place where once mankind dwelled… That could reference an ancient city, maybe back to Mesopotamia, possibly one of the Biblical cities like Babylon. Once dwelled meant a place where no one lived now, so a dead city. He'd have to ask Elijah whether the ancient Sumerians were a philosophical people. Maybe the box was referring to Ancient Sumer. That was a place mankind used to dwell, but had long since disappeared, like Petra or the legendary lost cities that had never been found by modern searchers; Kalahari or El Dorado.
"Sam."
Sam looked up to see Caleb standing just outside his bedroom door. "Yeah?"
Caleb walked forward. "It's after two in the morning. Go to bed. We need you rested."
"Alison confirmed the translation Brian and I made on the four middle lines on the box," Sam said.
"Really?" Caleb stepped over to the table and dropped into one of the chairs. He reached over and read, "Hidden in space and time; A place where once mankind dwelled; Wailing for knowledge gained, innocence lost; Beware, chaos, heed the warning, halt unlock." Looking up, he said, "Cheery. I thought Brian translated the top to say Do Not Open."
"Halt unlock could be translated do not open," Sam said. "Halt or stop the opening or unlocking of the box. He probably got the translation right, but interpreted the ancient verbiage in his head."
Caleb nodded. "Lots of words there about doom."
Sam shrugged slightly. "Yeah, I know. Chaos, doom, beware. Just another hunt, huh?"
Caleb chuckled. "Do you know what it means?"
Sam shook his head. "I'm not an expert on ancient civilizations. I thought I'd email a copy of it to Elijah, see what he says. But then, there are a lot of other symbols on the lid, and I don't know how those interact with the center lines. Maybe I should wait till I have all the data." He was interrupted by a large yawn.
"Go to bed," Caleb said, rising. Moving across the room to his bedroom, he added, "And check on your brother."
Sam rolled his eyes, but saved a copy of the text. Another yawn had him shutting down his computer and rising. Yup, definitely time to get some sleep. He double checked the protection symbols and the salt lines across the windows and doors, before heading into the room he and Dean were sharing.
His brother's soft breaths greeted him the moment he stepped across the threshold. Walking to his brother's bed, he leaned over to check the bandage at Dean's shoulder. No wetness or blood trances were showing. Nodding, he slipped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, before he climbed into bed. His body relaxed slowly as he relished being horizontal. Turning onto his side, he was just about to drop off when he heard Dean mumble, "Night, Sammy." Smiling, he murmured, "Night Dean," and drifted away.
.
TBC
Author's Note:
The character's authentic language is included for style more than any intent for readers to follow it. English will always be included!
Piruz's Native Tongue: In place of the Phoenician language, which is a Semitic language of the Canaanite subgroup, the closest living option was Hebrew. Since I didn't see the Eridu and Petra characters speaking Hebrew, second and third choice options were Aramaic and Arabic. Full Aramaic translators are not available online, so I went with Arabic. You will see other languages throughout this piece, and I'll try to identify them in the notes! (For anyone who speaks or reads Arabic, I apologize for mine and Googles mistakes. lol)