The Chaos Tree

Chapter 21

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Jarring pain reverberated up his legs and through his body as Dean landed on the other side of the portal. His boots had connected with something hard and unforgiving. Since he'd been expecting lawn-covered trash, it was disconcerting. Grunting, he stumbled forward. As the window closed, he immediately winced as a cacophony of noise and activity assaulted his ears. A hand on his shoulder had him reacting instinctively with his fist. He connected with an open palm, and realized Joel was standing a few feet away, his hand in the air. Nodding that he was okay, he turned and looked around. Frowning, he shouted over the noise, "Where the hell are we?"

"Damned if I know," Joel shouted back, his eyes searching the darkness around them. There was a whole lot of blackness on one side, then blackness peppered with low lights on the right. Behind them were several long buildings. "Looks like … an airport?"

Dean grunted. It wasn't often he viewed an airport from what looked like the runway. Suddenly he spun around and looked upward into the distance. He wondered if he could detect the distant taillights of a plane in the sky, or if it was just his imagination. "Damn it," he murmured.

Suddenly lights shown on them from what looked like a utility building, and the sounds of an engine revving assaulted his ears. Dean tugged on Joel's arm and they started jogging in the direction of the building. They'd only gone a few yards before a cart stopped beside them and a man stepped out. "What in the hell are you doing out on the runway? A plane just took off and another is taxiing onto the tarmac, you idiots. You could have been hurt!"

Dean rolled his eyes slightly as Joel asked, "Got a solution for that?"

The man looked disgruntled but growled, "Get in the damn cart."

Dean swung into the front seat beside the grumpy driver while Joel climbed into the back. After they'd gotten on their way, Dean asked, "Which airport is this?"

The man gave him an incredulous look. "You're strolling around runways and don't know where you are?"

"Humor me," Dean groused. He knew they must look like loonies, walking around on the runways, but he wasn't about to explain that they'd just come back from the Garden of Eden.

The man heaved an exasperated sigh. "You're at Newark Liberty International Airport."

Frowning, Dean craned his neck to better survey the runway where they'd been standing. "This is the private terminal."

The man nodded.

Dean sighed. He knew it. Caleb, Sam and Adam must have just taken off for Lebanon. His heart clenched a little that they hadn't waited for him. "What time is it?"

Their driver glanced over, but supplied, "Almost two in the morning."

Dean didn't ask any more questions. The questions he wanted to ask couldn't be answered anyway. Like were Sam and Caleb all right, was Adam unhurt, did Piruz get away? And one question that couldn't help hovering at the edges of his mind, a relic from a broken youth; had they tried to find him before leaving?

The cart pulled up near a door, and their driver got out. Walking forward, he flashed a card before a blinking light and pulled open the door. "You two can go through here. It's the employee locker and break rooms. Go down the corridor, take your first right. When you reach the end of that hallway, you'll step out into the Main Terminal."

Dean turned and held out his hand, giving the other man's a hearty shake. "Thank you for coming to get us. If you ever need anything, give me a call." He handed over a card which carried his name and phone number.

The man frowned. "Why would I need anything?"

Joel gave the man a quick pat on the shoulder as he passed by. "You never know, buddy."

Nodding, the man said abruptly, "Lou Moretti."

"Joel Neubridge," Dean said, jerking his chin in the direction of the retreating man. "Dean Winchester; pleased to meet you, and thanks again." Nodding once, he turned and followed Joel down the corridor. They met up at the right hallway and were soon through a set of double doors and into the Main Airport Terminal. Joel immediately bee-lined it to a Wanderlust Burger Bar. Shaking his head, Dean followed.

When they'd each gotten a burger and coffee, they sat down and began eating.

"Hmmm," Joel moaned in ecstasy. "I have missed grease."

Dean smiled, tucking into his own burger.

After swallowing, Joel said, "So, you know why we came out of Eden at the airport?"

Dean chewed for a moment, then swallowed. "We took on Piruz at Freshkills Park in Staten Island, then we were heading to Lebanon Kansas."

"Why there?"

"It's the center of the spell." Forestalling Joel's questions, he said, "I'll explain everything later. It was a twenty-one hour drive without stops, so Caleb convinced us to fly."

Joel nodded thoughtfully as he took another couple of bites. Finally, he said, "So, the Guardian magic did work; it took us to Caleb and Sam. But they were on a plane."

"Looks like," Dean said distantly.

Joel eyed the other man, then dropped his eyes back to his burger.

The pair didn't talk as each man finished his food and coffee. Finally, Joel leaned back and asked, "So, what's the plan?"

Dean was having a bit of a hard time shaking off his feeling of abandonment. But Daniel had believed Joel was dead when he disappeared. It made sense that Caleb and Sam would think he was gone, and would have felt duty bound to continue on to Lebanon to finish Piruz and head off country-wide chaos. Still, feelings were always harder for him to muscle into line than logic. Clearing his throat, he said, "First, I send a text to Sam and Caleb, asking why they left us here."

Joel laughed, as he knew Dean wanted him to. "They won't get it on the plane."

Sighing, Dean nodded. "I know."

"Are we going to fly and catch up, or drive?"

"Let's check the flights to Lebanon."

Joel pulled out his cell, but it was dead. Rising, he walked to the nearest Terminal counter and spoke to the man behind the desk.

Dean fished into his pocket and pulled out his own cell. Growling, he saw that it too was dead. He knew it had been fully charged, a necessity in their world, but thought maybe being in Eden had short-circuited it, somehow. Glancing around the Terminal, he looked for a charging station, but figured those were most likely situated at the gates. Rising slowly, his body tired and worn, he walked to a row of payphones. Pulling out his credit card, he slipped it into the pay slot and waited for the ringtone. Quickly he punched in the numbers for Sam's cell. Of course, it went to voicemail. He left a message, then dialed Caleb. After leaving a second message, he headed back to the table. A couple minutes later Joel walked up.

"There are a couple of regional airports near Lebanon, but apparently not many airlines fly there. We can book a flight on some of the smaller airlines, but they won't leave until tomorrow afternoon."

Dean got back on his feet, saying, "Then I guess we're driving."

"You want to rent a car?"

Smiling, Dean shook his head. "We'll drive mine."

Joel looked surprised as he followed Dean through the Terminal to the arrivals doors. Before they left, Dean stopped at a map outlining the parking areas. VIP parking was directly outside the Arrival Gates, and he knew that's where Caleb would leave the Impala. The man couldn't help it; he went VIP all the way. Turning, Dean led the way outside and across the arrivals lanes into the parking structure. Heading directly for the elevators, he hit a button and waited only a moment before climbing on board. Pressing the first floor button, he leaned back against the car as the elevator doors closed and yawned.

"Where are we going?"

"The VIP parking lot," Dean said. "That's where the car is."

"You know that, how?"

"Because that's where Caleb and Sam would have parked her."

Joel shrugged. So much had happened over the last few days that he was finding being back rather surreal. His mind kept going back to the serenity of the garden; the incredible green fields, sleeping between mountain cats, the delicious fruit, the incredible peace of the place. When he was there he'd been ready to go home. Now that he was back, he found all the noise and lights of the world, something he'd always taken for granted, rather overwhelming. It was familiar, but he couldn't get over how quickly he'd become accustomed to the serenity of the Garden.

The bell tinged and the doors opened. Dean stepped out, looked around and smiled. The Impala sat right near the elevator doors; black, beautiful and still slightly banged up from Piruz kicking the crap outta her. Fishing the keys from his pocket, he unlocked the front door and climbed inside. Leaning across the front bench, he unlocked the passenger's side door.

Joel swung himself in and settled against the dark leather. Within twenty minutes, they were heading out of New York toward Kansas.

Quickly Dean realized the going wouldn't be incident free: they passed the carcasses of two SUVs and a sedan on the side of the road. Considering the rise in unrest in the country, he knew there would be more. They'd only been on the road for a couple of hours when he pulled off at a Pilot Truck stop for gas. He topped off the tank then handed the keys over to Joel. "You okay to drive?"

Joel nodded. "I'm good. It was daytime in the garden when you got there. I slept last night. Or this morning," he corrected, frowning. "Damn, I'm going to have to get acclimated to a time change."

Dean grinned. "You're home. You're gonna get back on track fast."

Joel just nodded and climbed behind the wheel. "You set?"

Dean slid into the passenger's seat. Shifting uncomfortably, he fitted himself into the corner of the seat near the window and relaxed. Instead of closing his eyes, he glanced over at the other man. "You good?"

Joel pulled onto the Interstate and got comfortable behind the wheel before he answered. "Yeah, I'm good. It's just…" he broke off, arranging his thoughts. After all, they had surprised him. "I spent a lot of time trying to find a way out of that garden." Frowning, he focused on the darkened road, glad that most of the traffic was in their rear view. "Now that I'm back, I kind of miss being there. It was peaceful, calm, uncomplicated. It's crazy, I know."

"No," Dean said softly. "I understand. I felt that peace, and I was only there for a short time."

"We have a job to do here, but being back has made me think of what I'd like for me, for Daniel someday. I want us to have families, partners, to have a home like you have." Joel glanced at Dean, then quickly shifted his eyes forward. "I want a home."

"You deserve it," Dean stated. They didn't speak for several minutes as the Impala ate up the highway. Finally he said, "Don't wait."

Joel glanced over, surprised Dean was still awake.

"I never thought I'd have a family," Dean confided softly. "No one was more surprised than me that I found one. Don't wait; find your peace here, have your family. Having something else in your life besides hunting is important. It's a constant reminder of why we fight."

Joel didn't reply, and a couple minutes later he heard Dean's breathing deepen and knew the other man was finally asleep. Slouching back in the driver's seat, he relaxed. Like Dean, he loved driving. Loved the solace it provided for thinking and planning. He needed some time to regroup. Now that he was back, he realized the peace he'd felt in Eden was precious. He wanted to recapture just a bit of that peace here. He and Daniel had hunted full time for years. It was time for each of them to leave the past in the past. Yeah, it was time they had balance in their lives.

Following the battle in Freshkills Park, Piruz headed back to the home where he'd arranged for a bed, seething in anger. The Warriors had put up much more of a fight than he'd anticipated, especially considering their former encounter had given him valuable insight into their capabilities. He needed healing and rest before he could head to the center, to the place where all his work would be completed.

Once back in his plush room, he unpacked his herbs and spices. Focusing his inner reserves, he healed the bruises and contusions to his body and his soul, then worked to create potions that would speed a more complete healing. Tired and exhausted, he took great care to ensure his ingredients were added in the right measure and correct order. Upon completion, he took the potions one at a time, feeling stronger in body as he ingested each vial of liquid. Grimacing slightly at the taste of the last one, he reached up slowly and unbuttoned the shirt he wore. Slowly he shed the rest of his soiled clothing and stepped into the bathroom to wash away the dirt, grime and sweat of the fight. When he returned to the bedroom, he was ready to check on his spell.

Pulling the large scroll from his leather duffel, he unrolled it over the surface of the bed. Sprinkling some herbs over the parchment, he murmured an incantation and the map showcasing the Tree became visible. From even here he could feel the Tree vibrating with barely controlled energy. Next he checked his ring of boxes. All remained secure save for the four Merlin's Chosen had removed. If they thought their loss would disrupt the spell, they were mistaken. The boxes that remained were strong enough to accomplish their task.

Now, where were Merlin's Chosen Warriors. They were not the only ones who could track. It was possible he should have tracked them sooner, but in truth, he hadn't felt the need. However, their whereabouts could not remain a mystery at this stage in his plan. The battle tonight had revealed their formidable strength, yet he had been a match for them. What he hadn't expected from the night was the loss of Merlin's Child. His intention had been to eliminate the witch. The confounding and misdirection spells had interfered with his own battle strategy. He hadn't thought Merlin's Child would reach the witch before his window took him. That he had and the witch had been saved was a surprise. But while Merlin's Child was gone, two Warriors remained. But they would find their way blocked and barred. He would not fail a third time.

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Northeastern Poland 1654 - The Second Failure

Piruz stood outside the town of Suchowola near Bialvstok in Poland. This was considered the geographical center of Europe, the largest power on earth in the seventeenth century. He had worked and waited six generations before he felt he could perfect the Chaos Spell and control the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. And with Merlin long dead, it was time to put his plan into action.

"Deja lo que estás haciendo." (Stop what you are doing.)

Piruz whirled around and stared at three men standing in attack formation. The tall, black-haired man in the center held a sword of brightest silver. The man to his right was slightly shorter, with broad shoulders and a narrow, pointed beard. He held a large blade, cold steel with a black stone handle, a red marking adorning its side. On the left of the center was a third man, with brown hair, a clean-shaven face and sharp, black eyes. In his left hand he held a long, slender rapier, and several spell pouches in his right.

The man with the spell pouches took a step further to his left, his stance relaxed and ready. "No puedes hacer esto. Destruiría millones de vidas." (You cannot do this. It would destroy millions of lives.)

Piruz blinked. Turning around more fully, he eyed the three men and knew; they were from Merlin. Not fully understanding their language, he still replied in Latin, "Et hoc non potest non prohibere." (You cannot stop me.)

The tall man with the large silver sword focused his attention, not on the wizard, but on the large, beautiful Tree standing in the narrow valley. After a moment, he leaned slightly to the right and murmured something to the man with a large blade balanced in his hand.

"Podemos," said the man holding the spell bags. "Y lo haremos." (We can and we will.)

Suddenly the warrior with the large stone blade reared back and hurled his blade with deadly accuracy, not at Piruz, but directly at the Tree. The blade penetrated hilt-deep into the trunk. It was like the Tree screamed in agony. Red sap poured from the trunk and the branches twisted as though in pain. Chaos snapped out like locust trampling a wheat field.

Piruz stared at the Tree in shock before whirling around, shouting, "madha faelt!?" (What have you done!?)

The man with the spell bags stepped forward and answered in Latin, "Salvus vitae." (Saved lives.)

Face a mask of rage, Piruz shouted, "Vos non succedent!" (You will not succeed!) Pulling in the power of the earth, he threw a wave of power at the men, a wave of magic that shook the very trees to their roots. When the power cleared, the three men remained standing, and the blade that had penetrated the Tree was once more in the burly man's grip.

"Y tú tampoco," said the man in the center. (And neither shall you.)

The man with the pouches hurled them quicker than lightening, and the three men charged.

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It had been a mighty battle, with one of Merlin's chosen falling that day. But in the end they had been victorious and Piruz had stepped back through his window to escape. After days spent giving vent to his anger, and then recovering his strength, he had focused his attention to how the three had stopped his magic. His was a formidable power, yet twice he had failed. Two questions plagued him: the first, how had Merlin and his Warriors tracked him in both centuries? The second, how had they stopped him? He had made no mistakes in his spell work, of that he was certain. Maybe the fault lay in his method of protecting his plan against Merlin's gifted Warriors. That was it; he was guilty of hubris.

Even still, in the present age he was forced to admit that Merlin's Warriors were a formidable element in the world. But he knew who they were and what they could do, and of one thing he was certain: they would not best him this time.

Sprinkling a ruby powder over the map spread out across his bed, he sent his magic out through the city, seeking the psychic energy he'd felt from the two Warriors. He began at the Park where they'd dueled, then reached outward. There was no trace of the two men. Frowning, he focused beyond the city and yet, they remained elusive. Pushing his magic further, he finally detected a wisp of the Warrior with the knife high above the earth. He knew about machines that allowed people to sail through the air, but had never chosen to travel that way. Frowning, he focused on the air ship and its direction, then suddenly froze in shock. Rage warred with the realization that they were heading for the center. They knew! It wasn't possible! He'd been so careful this time, covering every step he made in obfuscation and confusion. Yet still, he had been discovered. Gritting his teeth, he vowed that Merlin's two would not get there, not if he could help it.

Digging into his leather case, he pulled out a small pouch. Loosening the leather thong, he poured several black stones out onto the surface of the map. Touching the stones, he focused on the flying machine. Piruz murmured a spell and used his magical power to hurl it towards the air machine. They would not find sailing through the skies an easy task now. Next he readied a second spell, one that would strengthen the fortresses he'd placed around the Tree. Pulling several pouches, bottles and a second scroll from his duffel, he placed them on the bed surface. While Merlin's remaining two fighters may be formidable, he had learned from his past encounters with Merlin and his chosen fighers. This time he was much better prepared, and he would prevail. When he finished adding further securities to his center, he sanded the map with a red powder and murmured, "qarib." (Close.)

Sighing, he placed his tools back inside his duffel and dropped onto the mattress, exhausted. Yes, Merlin's remaining Warriors now knew of his plan; they knew the location of the Tree. Yet still, he was stronger. Though he hadn't needed the additional layers to his spell, he hadn't let hubris color his judgment on this engagement. He had listened to the past and had strengthened his fortifications. Now, he needed to rest. He wouldn't allow himself the full measure of rest he may have desired, but rest he would if he were to finish the task he had set for himself several millennia ago. Another day and the spell would be complete, and Merlin's Chosen would be defeated. And then the Warriors would kneel before him and they would thank him for ridding their world of evil. They would be grateful, or they would die. He would not have it any other way.

Caleb griped the armrests of his chair as the Hawker jerked suddenly to the side then abruptly dropped like a stone through the air.

Sam gave an involuntary, "Whoa!" as the plane jerked to the right.

Caleb twisted around in his seat to view Sam and Adam. "You two all right?"

Sam and Adam were both staring out the windows of the jetliner. "I don't see any clouds," Sam stated, his injured arm steadied with his good hand. The plane jerked again and he winced as his ribs complained.

"Magic," Adam murmured as he jerked away from the window. A bolt of lightning had just daggered down the side of the plane, close but not touching the jetliner's exterior. Blinking to clear his vision, he said, "This isn't weather. It's a spell."

Caleb rose, then abruptly stumbled to the right, quickly reseating himself in the chair across the aisle. Turning, he called to Adam over the noise of the wind battering the windows. "Can you do anything to calm things down?"

"Maybe," Adam stated. Rising, one hand gripped tightly to the back of the chair, he reached up and flipped the latch on the overhead compartment. Pulling his duffel out, he snapped the compartment closed and lurched up the aisle to where Sam was sitting by the compartment table.

"Need some help?" Sam asked.

"In a minute," Adam murmured, opening his duffel.

Caleb stood once more and made his way slowly to the cockpit. Rapping once on the door, he opened it and stuck his head inside. "You okay, Michael?"

Michael Foster was pale, his face set as he wrestled with the controls. "I'm okay. Need to concentrate."

"Things should calm down in a minute. Hang in there." Caleb closed the door and made his way back to where Sam and Adam were working over some herbs; mainly Adam worked while Sam was attempting to keep the ingredients on the table with one hand.

Adam added a pinch of turquoise powder to a thick mixture of herbs and spices. Then he closed his eyes and began murmuring an incantation in what sounded to Sam and Caleb like a Native American dialect.

Sam was holding the bowl over which Adam was working. Thus, when the plane suddenly slammed to the left, it was Caleb who kept the remaining ingredients on the table.

Looking at Sam, whose face was white with pain, he asked softly, "You all right?"

It took a moment, but Sam finally nodded. "Yeah."

Caleb nodded and turned his eyes on Adam.

The witch spoke another few words under his breath, then lit a match and dropped it into the bowl. A spiral of white and turquoise smoke wafted upwards, then burst into sparkling lights that darted out the sides of the plane. Instantly the lightening that had been jabbing perilously close the jetliner stilled. Opening his eyes, Adam pushed the bowl toward Sam and pulled another from his duffel. This time he mixed several herbs, expertly crushing the seeds with a pistil and adding several different types of leaves and oils. Finally he poured in a thick, ruby-colored oil from a small carafe. Quickly he slid from his chair, only to fall sideways as the plane gave another turbulent jerk.

Caleb caught Adam's arms and prevented him from falling, using his elbow to steady the bowl.

Adam nodded and lowered himself to the carpeted floor. Placing the bowl down, he looked to Caleb, who immediately got down beside him, lending his hands to secure the bowl. Once again, Adam closed his eyes and began the incantations he had learned and mastered long ago. He spoke to the wind and asked it to calm, to the clouds and asked for their shelter, and to the Great Father above to guard their way. Pouring more liquid into the bowl, he then lit another match and dropped it atop the mixture inside.

A powerful whoosh exploded upward from the bowl and went out through the shell and skin of the plane into the atmosphere, and abruptly the wind calmed. Though they were still buffeted about, the worst of the magical storm had eased.

"Well done," Caleb murmured.

Adam smiled and nodded. "I'll need to do that again before we land, or his magic will regain a grip on the plane. But we should be fine for now."

Caleb climbed to his feet. Looking over at Sam, he said, "He knows."

Nodding once, Sam watched as Caleb helped Adam to his feet. "Yeah, he does."

"That means he'll be coming to Lebanon, fast."

.

Caleb's jetliner touched the tarmac in Nebraska just before six in the morning, each man on board shaken after a harrowing flight and grateful to be on the ground once more. The sudden onset of such an intense storm out of nowhere had been a surprise to everyone. Lightening had snapped around the plane, gales buffeted, and the wind shear had been brutal. Several times the plane had spiraled nearly out of control, only to be tussled back level by the skills of their combat-trained pilot. Adam had worked his magic twice more before they'd landed. Somehow, Piruz had discovered where they were headed and had called on the elements to stop them.

Adam gingerly unlocked his seatbelt as though cautious to believe the worst was over. "I am very thankful to be on the ground," he said.

"I'm glad Caleb hired the best pilot around," Sam agreed, "and that we had you on board to help."

"I didn't do much, but thank you."

"We're on the ground safe and sound," Caleb stated. "Your magic helped a lot."

The cockpit door opened and their pilot, Michael Foster, walked out.

Caleb looked up. "Nice job, Michael. Outstanding flying.

Michael, looking more than a little worn around the edges, wiped a hand over his face. His hair was standing on end, his necktie was loose, and the collar of his usually spit-and-polished shirt was wet with sweat. "I still have no idea where that storm front came from. One minute it was clear skies, the next a storm worthy of the heading Tropical Storm." Shaking his head lightly, he asked, "You want me to wait here, Mr. Reaves?"

"Are you okay for another run?"

Michael nodded. "If it's short. I'll need to rest soon after last night."

Caleb nodded. "Agreed. I'll let you know in a minute. I might have you fly to Louisville and bring Joshua, Onida and the others here. It's only an hour flight. After that, you're off the clock."

Central Nebraska Regional Airport was a ninety-mile drive from Lebanon Kansas. With a population of only three hundred people, not much in the way of commercial transportation went though Lebanon, and Nebraska Regional was the closest they could get.

Sam walked up behind Caleb and said, "Why don't you call Joshua now?"

Caleb wagged his cell in the air. "Dead. I had Michael arrange for an SUV."

Sam frowned and checked his own phone. Eyes wide in surprise, he said, "Mine too." He'd just walked to Mary a few hours ago, and it had worked fine.

Caleb leaned past Sam and told Adam, "I'll be right back. Need to make a phone call."

Adam stood, saying, "You can use my cell."

"It's probably dead," Caleb said, figuring the magic that had been bouncing all over Freshkills Park had probably drained their cells. While there'd been enough charge for a short call, the magic-thick air of the park plus the magical bombardment on the plane had probably shorted all their cells. They would need new batteries. Turning, he jogged down the stairs and across the asphalt into the Terminal doors.

Michael said, "I'll be in the cockpit. I want to lay in a flight plan to Louisville, just in case."

Sam nodded. Pocketing his phone, he leaned over and slowly slid his duffel from beneath his chair. Adam stood and pulled his from the overhead compartment.

"Guess we wait here," Sam said, his voice rough and deeper than usual.

Adam nodded. He still felt as though he were to blame for Dean's death, and he hated hearing the sorrow in Sam's voice.

Sam eyed the other man, and smiled. "I know how you feel."

Startled, Adam asked, "How do you mean?"

"Responsible, like if you hadn't been there, Dean would be here. If you'd moved faster, shifted quicker, run further he would be alive." Sam shook his head. "But nothing you could do or ever do would stop Dean from being exactly who he is."

Adam stared at the other man a moment, then sighed. "A hero," he whispered.

Sam gave the other man a weary smile. "It's hard to bear, being saved by a hero. I should know; Dean's been saving me my entire life."

"In the time I've known you both, I would say the saving is mutual," Adam countered.

"Maybe," Sam admitted softly, "here and there."

Joshua leaned quickly over to the night stand and touched the face of his cell, silencing the ringer. Rising, he walked into the kitchen and answered. "Hello?"

"Josh, its Caleb."

Joshua peered down at his cell. "I don't recognize the number. Where are you calling from? Are you all right?"

Ignoring Joshua's question, Caleb barked, "Where are you?"

"Louisville," Joshua answered. "We were so close that we came home instead of stopping at a hotel. Onida's at your place and Daniel's at the Inn. Raylan sent you a text; he's gone to California."

Caleb sighed. Since his phone was dead, he hadn't gotten the text. "All right. I'm sending the plane for you. It's quicker if you fly to Nebraska then drive to Lebanon. We'll be waiting."

"Nebraska?"

"It's the closest airport to Lebanon, and there are hotels nearby where we can stay and not be noticed."

Joshua frowned. There was something wrong in Caleb's tone. "What's wrong?"

"Josh…"

"What's wrong," Joshua repeated insistently, his voice rising.

Caleb sighed. "Dean."

Joshua didn't need for Caleb to elaborate. He knew instantly. "What?" he stuttered.

"Piruz's window, the same window that took Joel."

Joshua felt the world around him fade slightly. The words not possible kept whirling through the buzzing in his head.

"He was gone so fast," Caleb murmured, his voice cracking slightly.

"We…"

"We'll get him back," Caleb stated. "I won't rest."

Joshua's eyes closed; in denial, in weariness, in pain. They hadn't really lost anyone in such a long time, they'd grown complacent. But Dean … he couldn't be gone. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "We will. In the meantime I'll call Elijah and Ethan, then we'll head to the airport."

"Why Elijah and Ethan?" Caleb questioned somewhat aggressively. Elijah had been Dean's choice for Guardian before he'd gone to hell. It seemed bad luck to talk about the other man right now.

"We could use their support, especially if another coven is under Piruz's control," Joshua stated. When Caleb didn't speak, he finished, "I'll be with you soon."

Caleb swallowed hard and nodded, "Yeah," he murmured as he replaced the receiver of the pay phone back in its slot and closed his eyes to prevent the tears that were threatening to fall, inside. He couldn't break; not now. They had a witch to kill before they could go get Dean, and get him back they would. If any Triad knew how to do the impossible, it was theirs.

.

Joshua and Onida walked quickly into the terminal of Bowman Field Airport. Joshua had contacted Michael Foster, Caleb's pilot, and knew the Hawker was already fueled and ready for takeoff. There had been a slight delay in scheduling an arrival in Nebraska, as getting a landing time wasn't as easy as taking off from a private airport. That fact that Nebraska Central was a Regional airport rather than an International Airport had made it possible.

Daniel had chosen to drive on in the Tourer, feeling that since Elijah and Ethan were coming, they might need the vehicle space once they arrived. He'd left Louisville at six-thirty in the morning, and was expected to be in Hastings Nebraska by seven that evening. Raylan had heard from Kace Brandt, who was out of the hospital, the night before. California monster activity had risen alarmingly. He'd asked if Raylan could lend a hand. Feeling the Triad could take care of the witch in Lebanon, Raylan had agreed to go. He'd checked in with Joshua and Alison, sent a text to Caleb, and had been able to book a rare non-stop flight from Louisville into Los Angeles, which had left at five in the morning.

Now it was Onida and Joshua heading in to Nebraska Central Airport with heavy hearts.

Approaching the gate, Joshua said, "Joshua Sawyer."

The gate attendant's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Sawyer, yes. You're cleared to board at your convenience." The young man gestured to a hallway at the rear left of the counter and said, "Fourth door on the right. The pilot will escort you to the plane."

Joshua, who was familiar with the terminal and their usual exit door, though not the new hire at the desk, merely nodded. "Thank you," he said, and followed Onida around the desk to the door.

Together they walked down the hallway, the silence a heavy blanket around their words and feelings. Joshua pushed open the door and saw Michael Foster standing near the base of the Hawker steps.

"Morning," Michael said with a smile. His smile faltered as the pair neared the stairs. "What's wrong?"

"Morning, Michael," Joshua said, giving the man a small smile. "Nothing we can't fix soon. When can we take off?"

After a brief hesitation, Michael said, "We're cleared as soon as you're in your seats."

"Thank you." Joshua waved Onida on and followed, Michael bringing up the rear.

Once inside, Joshua took a seat near one of the tables and pulled out his computer. There was a job that needed finishing. He had to find a way to get the seeds and Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil back to Eden, and he didn't have much more time to figure it out.

"You'll find a way."

Joshua looked up. Sighing, he said, "Thank you. I wish I felt more confident."

"You're task is not an easy one," Onida admitted. "How to move an object that shouldn't be here to a place you can't find."

"Thanks for the simplification," Joshua quipped, feeling as though he were channeling Caleb.

Onida smiled. "I don't know if this will help, but when I was young and Álxayx was training me to be the Yaotlapializtli of my people, I needed to study Energetics. Energetics teaches the different types of energy; thermal, radiant, electrical, gravitational, and how those energies move."

"Everything around us is energy," Joshua said.

"Right," Onida said. "Energy can be transferred from place to place by electrical currents, which can then be used locally to produce motion, sound, heat or light. That's how our system works. Now, uncontrolled systems always evolve toward more stable states, toward more uniform energy distribution."

Joshua leaned forward, nodding.

"Maybe that will work here," Onida suggested. "We know the Tree doesn't belong here. Maybe its energy is different and it will gravitate toward someplace where the energy is more the same." She watched Joshua's intent face. He wasn't giving away anything, so she added, "Maybe…?"

Joshua's mind was racing. They all knew the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil didn't belong in their world. He'd speculated yesterday that Piruz had contained the seeds within cocobolo wood boxes because they were returning to their source; the Tree. Could he use that somehow to return the Tree to Eden? Looking up, he said, "Thank you. I think that might help."

Onida smiled, relieved. "Good. Please, let me know if I can help with any research, all right?"

"You can figure out how to break open cocobolo wood boxes from hundreds of miles away."

Onida's eyes widened comically. "What?"

"We need to break through Piruz's magic and get the boxes to open so the seeds return to the Tree."

"And why would they magically return to the Tree from thousands of miles away?"

"Like energy," Joshua said wryly.

Nodding slowly, Onida repeated, "You think the Tree is the stable state the seeds need, so they'll return to a more uniform energy."

"I do."

"Then we better get to work," Onida said. "I have a feeling this isn't going to be easy."

"Who better to tackle the problem than a crafter and an energy specialist?"

Onida chuckled, leaning over and pulling her computer from her case. She certainly hoped Joshua was right.

Ethan rushed through shoving weapons and ammo into his duffel when the front bell rang. He heard his wife Connie speaking to someone, then laughing, and knew who it was. His hunch was confirmed a moment later when his twin brother walked down the basement stairs.

"You leaving Gideon in charge of the Southern Territory?" Elijah asked. Gideon was Ethan's oldest son, and the prospective Guardian of the secondary Triad should something happen to JT's. He was named in honor of Gideon Lane, the prospective Guardian of their own proposed Triad. He had died years before saving the true Guardian, Dean. His own son, Lane, was also named in honor of their fallen friend.

Ethan nodded. "He's already in touch with all the hunters in the area anyway. So he'll be directing traffic, sending teams to where they're needed." He looked over his shoulder. "You need him to take over yours as well?"

Elijah shook his head. "No, Micah is going to oversee the territory until Morgan gets there." Micah Fox was already in Florida, having taken over the teaching of sword fighting to hunters after the former master, Jessup, had passed away. Morgan Fox, his younger brother, was also a member of the second proposed Triad. Both were sons of longtime Brotherhood member, Silas Fox, who had been a close confidant of Mac and Dean in his later years.

"You call Max yet?"

"I sent him an email and left him a message. When I checked in with Alison this morning, she said JT, Max and James were on their way to Louisville. Ryker's already there, of course."

"Why? When was that?"

"Just after six," Elijah said, leaning against his brother's weapons cabinet. "She didn't say much, except that JT said they needed to get to Louisville. She said she'd give us an update when Joshua checks in. He's on his way to Kansas."

Ethan looked up, frowning. "Kansas? I thought Dean was tracking this wizard through North Carolina and New York?"

"They were, according to Alison." Elijah watched his brother a moment, then said, "Joshua got a call from Caleb this morning."

"Yeah?"

Elijah hesitated only a moment, before saying, "Dean's gone."

Ethan froze. "What?"

"Apparently the thing that happened to Joel happened to Dean late last night. Caleb got hold of Joshua this morning and said he and Sam were flying into Nebraska, which is close enough to Kansas for easy access. Joshua relayed the message to Alison."

Ethan didn't know what to say. So he just nodded, put one more knife in the duffel and zipped it up. Shouldering his bag, he said, "We'll need to change our flights from New York to Nebraska."

"Alison did that after hearing from Joshua."

"How is she?" Ethan asked.

"Wrecked," Elijah stated. "You know how she feels about Dean." There were several moments of silence before he said again, "Dean."

"I know," Ethan sighed. "We don't know that he's really gone."

"Caleb and Sam wouldn't have left New York if he wasn't," Elijah said softly.

"Then we'll get him back. It's been done before."

"And maybe what's dead should stay dead," Elijah countered.

"What are you talking about?" Ethan demanded. "He was saved before."

"Dean went to hell because he couldn't accept that Sam was dead. Caleb used that amulet and Sam dallied around with a demon in order to save Dean." Elijah eyed his brother, his expression resolute. "I'm saying you and I need to make sure Caleb and Sam don't do something crazy to save him this time. If he's gone…" he broke off. It was difficult to say, especially about someone as vital and dynamic as Dean, but he went on anyway. "If he is gone, we need to protect them from themselves and let him stay gone."

Ethan wanted to rail at his brother, to argue, to put forth some defensible reason why dead wasn't really dead. In the end, he just closed his eyes. "Okay. But if what took Dean was magic, it may be able to be reversed. We'll talk to Joshua, to the coven. If it can't be, we protect Caleb and Sam from doing something reckless."

"That's all I'm saying."

Ethan walked across the basement. "When does our flight take off?"

"In an hour," Elijah said, following his brother up the stairs and into Ethan's kitchen. "I'm hoping we can use your siren to get there on time."

"That's an abuse of my authority."

"And when the situation called for it, since when has that been a problem?"

Ethan ignored him as he leaned in and gave Connie a kiss. "We should be back in the next couple days. If we're going to be longer, I'll call."

"Watch out for each other," Connie said, smiling though her usual worry showed in her eyes. "And use the siren on the way to the airport so you don't miss your flight. We'll talk about the abuse of your authority when you get home."

Elijah laughed and headed for the front door as Ethan said, "You're a bad influence."

"Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere else," Connie said, grinning. "That's why you married me."

Ethan pulled her into his arms and gave her a thorough kissing before stepping out onto the front porch. Looking to his brother, he said, "You ready?"

Elijah nodded. "They'll be okay."

"We all will. Let's get going."

Dean merged onto I-465 N/I-74 heading toward the Illinois border. They had made good time, considering both men had the speedometer closer to ninety than seventy nearly the entire night. Now Joel was stretched out as much as was possible in the back seat, asleep and Dean had taken over the driving. He was supposed to have woken the newly returned hunter an hour ago, but hadn't felt like turning over the wheel.

He wanted to get in touch with Sam and Caleb, but his cell was proving difficult to charge. He wondered if the magic they'd used in Freshkills Park had shorted out the circuits, or maybe cell phones and Eden didn't go together. He'd been able to get enough juice in the battery to give Caleb and Sam's cells one more try, then he'd had to put the phone on the charger again. His second attempt to reach someone had been Joshua. His phone had gone straight to voice mail. The only reason that would happen was if their Advisor was in the air. He'd left a quick message that he was fine before his phone had died again. After that they'd put Joel's cell on the charger. If the malfunction was Eden, they'd both need new phone batteries. If it was magic, Joel's phone should charge and then he'd be able to get in touch with Alison, who would contact the others.

Relaxed behind the wheel of his beloved Impala, Dean's mind went back to Eden, to the incredible beauty and peace of the Garden; and to seeing Pastor Jim and Castiel. He would have wanted to stay and talk to them for ages, but it would never have been enough. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Castiel until the angel had tilted his head in his usual bird-like manner. He smiled. It was so Cas, and he missed him all the more.

And seeing Pastor Jim with his own eyes, not in a dream... A lump rose in his throat. It was like going back through time; to dinners at the farm, dad and Mac in the living room watching a game over pizza, Atticus Finch and Scout lying beneath the table as he, Sam and Pastor Jim baked cookies. Caleb would loll at the table, too cool to bake but not too grown-up to sneak a finger-full of dough from the bowl. He missed them all so much. But those memories would always be a part of him, and there were wonderful memories made at that table now too; Ben coming into their lives, JT and James eating dinner and telling him and Juliet all about their days at school. Of course, even those days were now in the past. But Caleb and Sam would always be at that table as long as he was around.

"Where are we?"

Dean glanced into the rearview mirror to see Joel sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Illinois."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Joel groused, clamoring over the seat and dropping into the front.

"Didn't feel like stopping," Dean remarked.

"Didn't feel like sharing the driving of this magnificent car, more like," Joel growled, reaching for his cell. "Bastard."

Dean grinned. "And proud of it."

Joel snorted. "I'm fully charged, at least for the moment. Now we'll see if Eden or magic killed your cell." Hitting a programmed number, he waited a second then said, "Alison, its Joel." After a moment he repeated, "Joel Neubridge. … No, I'm not dead. … No!"

Dean held out his hand. "Gimme."

"Hang on," Joel said, and passed over the phone.

"Alison, its Dean."

"Dean!?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Joshua said you were dead."

Dean sighed. "No, I'm not dead. We got pulled into the Garden of Eden."

Alison blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Long story and I want to do it justice. Can you get in touch with everyone, let them know I'm all right, that Joel is back and we're in Illinois on our way to Lebanon Kansas. I'll check back with you on where we'll meet."

"They're in Nebraska," Alison said, the smile evident in her tone.

"Nebraska?"

"Nebraska had the closest airport to Lebanon, and it's a better place to find a hotel."

Better for anonymity, as there would be several of them staying the night. "Okay, sounds good. We'll head there. Let everyone know we're on the way."

"Got it. Ethan and Elijah are heading that way as well. And Dean? Welcome back."

Dean eyed the silent cell a second before handing the phone back to Joel. "How's the battery?"

Joel looked down and said, "Still charged. Looks like magic drained the cells, not Eden."

Dean pulled off the freeway, heading for a truck stop and gas. When he'd pulled up at a pump, he said, "Why don't you go give Daniel a call; his cell should be working. If he's not in the air, he can let whoever he's with know we're all right." Wanting to give Joel a moment to reconnect with his hunting partner of so many years, he said, "I'm heading inside. Want some coffee?"

At Joel's affirmative, he turned and walked toward the convenience store. Suddenly, he stopped and rolled his eyes. Damn it, he had the best way to get in touch with Caleb and he hadn't done it. He was an idiot. While he wasn't psychic, Caleb's abilities had always been tuned in to him since they were kids. He hoped his going missing hadn't changed that. Hurrying to the side of the building, he thought, Damien… When he didn't hear anything back, he thought again, Damien, you out there? Caleb, damn it!

Deuce…?

Dean grinned. I'm here

How? What happened? Where are you?

Got pulled into the Garden of Eden and found Joel there.

Seriously?

Where are you?

Right now, just outside Lebanon Kansas.

We're about seven hours from you near Springfield Illinois. Scope out the land and we'll see you soon.

It's just great to hear your voice. Call when you can.

Will do.

Dean grinned as he walked around the side of the building and continued inside the store, his heart lighter.

Caleb drove into Lebanon Kansas alone. He, Sam and Adam had decided three strangers entering a small town would create talk. One stranger entering would create talk, but it was a better option. With Caleb going in, he would be able to scan the residents and get the overall vibe of the town, see if Piruz was already there.

"Like that worked so well last time," Sam said crossly. While he rarely volunteered to work the psychic angle, he also got irritated when Caleb assumed he'd be the one doing it. It was a conundrum.

"Tell him his brother is alive, and he gets all pissy," Caleb stated to Adam, grinning.

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed slightly, though he smiled.

Since Caleb had gotten a connect with Dean, they had all been in a jubilant mood, as sorrow and anxiety fled in the joyous revelation that Dean and Joel were alive. Sam had immediately contacted Daniel, who said he'd just gotten off the phone with Joel.

Earlier after landing at the Nebraska Central Regional Airport, Caleb had picked up their rental and they'd been on the freeway when Dean's voice had sounded in his head. He'd nearly driven them off the road in his shock. Sure, he'd kept the connection open, but he hadn't expected to hear anything, not really. Since that moment a sense of elation and optimism had been their fourth road trip companion. Each man felt the sense of relief and easing of tension brought about by the news that Dean was alive.

Almost an hour later, Caleb pulled off at a truck stop. While Adam had been plying the Scholar with healing drafts during their ride, he knew that Sam needed some time to rest. Though most truck stops no longer had beds, many – including their current stop – had small nationally recognized motels on the lot. This one had a Days Inn. While they all wouldn't be booking into the Days Inn, he did rent a room so Sam could lie down and rest. After all, it would be another few hours before Onida could work her healing magic. After his reconnaissance trip, he would check the surrounding towns for more acceptable accommodations. After handing Sam and Adam key cards to their rooms, he took off for Lebanon alone.

Lebanon was definitely the encyclopedia definition of a dying rural Kansas town. Several store fronts along the main street were shuttered and empty, there were few people downtown even in the middle of the day, and those he did see had their heads down. After one circuit of Main Street, he turned around in the lot of an abandoned gas station and drove back, pulling to the curb in front of a local market named Ladow's. Taking his time, he slowly put the SUV into park and removed his seatbelt as he extended his abilities.

The faint muffled feeling he'd felt when he'd first entered Lebanon grew thicker, and he could now detect a fuzzy type of buzzing, like someone had put a glass jar around a firefly. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to sense anything through the fog. He shut down his senses again as he opened the car door. They would come back tonight when Sam could watch his back as they scouted the area. Climbing from the SUV, he gave an exaggerated stretch and walked into the store.

Ladow's was the perfect country store, right down to the aisles of canned goods, bags of sugar and flour, and other standard necessities.

"Can I help you?"

Caleb turned to see a man sitting on a stool behind the front desk, his wiry gray hair standing on end, his glasses crocked on his nose. Smiling, he said, "Do you have any prepared sandwiches?"

"Nope."

Nodding, Caleb tried again, "Coffee?"

"Aisle four."

"Nothing already brewed?"

"Nope."

Walking over, Caleb eyed the man. Typical rural character; probably lived in Lebanon his entire life and inherited the store from his father and his father's father before that. Lowering his blocks, he took a peek. He was right, in that the man and his wife had lived here their entire lives. His children had long ago moved away, but one son had planned on moving his family back to help his father and take over the business. The man, whose name was Abel Samuelsson had told him no. There was something going on, and he wanted his children way from here. He was nervous. Caleb wondered whether he should just open up, but decided against it. "Any place around here to get some food to go?"

The man didn't say anything for a full minute, and Caleb just waited him out. Finally he said, "Just passin' through?"

"On my way Lawrence," Caleb said, and winced slightly. It was the first Kansas city name that had popped into his head. "Visit my parents graves." In for a penny….

The man nodded. Finally he held out a hand and said, "Abel Samuelsson."

"Caleb Ames," Caleb said. Though he had legally changed his name to Caleb Ames years ago, he still went by Reaves. He didn't know why, but he felt saying Reaves now would be a mistake.

"There's a diner around the corner at the end of Main Street. Go up to the gas station and make a right. It'll be the third door down on the right. They make terrific meatloaf sandwiches."

Caleb grinned. He hadn't had a meatloaf sandwich in years. "Excellent. I'm so hungry I could probably eat three. Before I leave, where is the center of the forty-eight states? I'd like to get a picture."

"You don't want to do that," Abel said quickly.

Caleb's smile faded. "Why not? Isn't that a major attraction for Lebanon?"

Abel's eyes flicked outside a moment, before he said quietly, "Get your meal and move on, Caleb. You don't want to be around here right now."

Caleb frowned. "Are you all right, Abel?"

Abel swallowed, and his eyes flicked out to the street again. If Caleb hadn't been watching, he would have missed the slight widening of the man's eyes. Immediately he reached around and snagged a loaf of cinnamon bread. Abel watched him a moment, then pulled up two cans of beer from behind the counter. Caleb nodded. He threw in a couple of candy bars and a beat-up banana, saying, "Can you ring these up for me, Mr. Samuelsson?"

Abel looked relieved as he turned and rang the items on his ancient cash register. Caleb handed over some cash and waited for his change. After dropping some coins into his pocket, he roamed the front of the store while Abel bagged his items. Casually he glanced out the large front windows and saw a woman standing on the sidewalk across the street. She was looking directly into the store, watching. Caleb tilted his head curiously, as he assumed anyone would if they found themselves being stared at.

"Here you go, Sir," Abel said, handing over a brown paper bag.

Caleb turned and smiled. "Thank you." Without another word he walked out of the store and climbed back into his car. The woman across the street didn't bother to hide the fact that she was staring him down. Before turning on the engine, he climbed back out and leaned into the car frame a little, calling out, "Can I help you, ma'am? Am I parked in the wrong spot?" He heard the door jingle behind him and knew Abel had stepped out his front door.

"That's just Mrs. Landon," Abel said. Stepping up close to the street. "Hello Mrs. Landon. Mr. Ames is heading to Lawrence Kansas, pay his respects to his parents who are buried there. He's just getting some food, so he won't be able to stay long and explore our fine town."

Mrs. Landon said nothing for several moments, then she simply turned and walked down the street.

Caleb was tempted to try and read her, but decided that would alert whoever had placed a spell over the town. Looking to Abel, brows raised in surprise, he said, "Thank you. I wasn't sure what to make of her."

"Don't worry," Abel said, though he was sweating profusely. "Just get your sandwiches and get on the road."

"Maybe I'll forget the sandwiches," Caleb said slowly as he climbed back into the SUV. He heard Abel said, "That would be better," before the door chimed shut. "Yeah, I agree," Caleb muttered, turning the engine over and driving out of town.

.

TBC