Chapter Five

 Sugar whinnied in anticipation as Tara neared the old stable. The familiar sound of her mare’s nose batting at an empty feed bucket concerned her. Sugar only did that when she was very, very hungry. Dennis helped tend to the mare since she was a small foal in training. It was improbable that he’d neglect to feed correctly after all of these years.

She slid through the partially opened door.

“Dennis!” she called out repeatedly, giving time in between for him to answer.

Her mare’s persistence won out and Tara set to task feeding and caring for her equine companion. Completing her chores with still no sight of her brother, she climbed the stairs that led to the dusty loft. It was doubtful Dennis was up there. He could have easily heard her calling him and answered if he was. She felt compelled to look anyway.

All was quiet, just as she’d expected.

At the faint sound of Brandon calling her name, she scurried back to the house. She’d given him free rein of her kitchen and hoped she hadn’t made a mistake.

****

It was early afternoon and there was still no sign of Dennis and no clue where he went. His SUV was parked in the driveway. There was nothing to indicate it had been used. Tara thought perhaps he’d decided to take a walk in the woods. It was something he did at times to clear his head and help him release some of the tension that built up during the week. The only footprints she or Brandon could find stopped at the doorway to the stable.

When she called the police, they said Dennis hadn’t been gone long enough to consider him missing, but if he didn’t return by morning he’d be considered missing and they’d file a missing person’s report on him. She hung up the phone disappointed.

The afternoon was endless. The sparks that flew whenever Brandon came near Tara were practically unbearable. When it finally reached a respectable hour to beg off and go to her room, she made her excuses, eager to put distance between them and to be alone with her thoughts. As she stretched out across the handmade quilt she’d discovered on a shelf in the wardrobe of one of the many bedrooms the house possessed, her mind raced with scenarios of what happened to her brother. She sensed the ghost of the old man standing in the corner of her room.

Too frustrated and worried to be fearful, she turned her head in his direction and whispered, “Where is he?”

“Lucy,” the old man whispered.

“Who’s Lucy?” she whispered.

“Aye, lass, ya are me Lucy,” the old man replied with his thick Irish brogue and a smile.

“I don’t know your Lucy, but I’m not her. You’re mistaken,” she grumbled.

Tara was feeling far too weary and far too worried about her brother to want to exchange pleasantries with the household ghost, but she didn’t know how to avoid it.

“Yes, ya are, lass. Now and before,” the old ghost whispered.

“Now and before? What do you mean?” Tara asked with obvious agitation.

She had a feeling the old coot was talking about reincarnation, but since she wasn’t sure she even believed in such a thing, she wasn’t going to be the one to suggest it.

“Ya went over the shadow line. Ya lived in this house with me in another time gone by. ‘Twas your home. Try to remember, lass.  Ya are me Lucy, me lovely, lovely, Lucy. Remember and come home, lass.”

Maybe the old ghost wasn’t referring to reincarnation? She was confused. What shadow line? Was it the same one Liam mentioned? Should she question the ghost about it, or just close her eyes and ignore him? What should she do? She decided to ignore him. Positioning herself on the bed with her back facing the spot where the semi-transparent man stood, she closed her eyes, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“Look at me, girl,” he cooed.

Her eyes shot open at the familiarity of his tone. His words were like a warm, soothing caress. Even so, she had no idea who he was, where he came from, and why his voice was familiar.  All she knew was that at this moment she wanted nothing to do with him.

“I’m your pa, girl. I’m your pa,” insisted the ghost.

The certainty in his voice took her aback. The melody of his brogue reminded her of Maggie.

“Well, that’s odd because I distinctly remember hearing Alana call you her pa, and since she and I have never met before...” Tara replied sarcastically.

“Ah, but ya have, lass. Ya grew up together,” he replied steadily.

How should she answer this delusional dead man?

“They took your Dennis,” he said.

The sadness that emanated from him permeated the room.

Adrenaline surged through her at his unexpected statement and she sat up with a start.

“Who took him?”  she demanded.

“The shadow people,” he replied.

She flew off the bed and moved closer, while maintaining a respectable distance between them. Even in her panicked state she could feel the tingling of the air around the entity from a few feet away.

“I can’t stay. I’m not strong enough. I must go now,” he said with regret. “Listen to the shadows in the wind, child. Ya can hear them. They carry the shadow people,” he said as he faded away.

“What do they want with my brother? Where is he?” she asked as she watched him fade away.

Disappointed and panic stricken, she rushed to Brandon’s room and barged in. Seeing his surprised look was like a bucket of cold water tossed at her face, bringing her quickly to her senses. Brandon was wearing a tee shirt that he filled out remarkably well. Memories of the afternoon she saw him with only a towel that barely covered his virility taunted her. Her blood pumped through her temples and her breathing grew labored. She couldn’t believe her own insensitivity and lack of control. Her brother was kidnapped by shadow people and she stood there salivating over this man’s hot body. She just wasn’t herself because of the trauma she endured, that’s it. That had to be it.

“Have you ever heard of the shadow people?” she asked, after gaining control of her breathing.

“The what?” he asked.

“Shadow people.... shadow people!” she roared impatiently.

As far as she was concerned, the fact that she barged, unannounced, into his room was no longer an issue. Dennis’s abduction was once again in the forefront.

Brandon cocked his head to the side and knit his brows.

“They have Dennis,” she said excitedly.

“What?” his eyes shot open wide, “Who has Dennis?”

“The shadow people!” she said in a way that made her impatience with him perfectly clear.

“We know this how?” he asked with a voice that was low and level.

“From the ghost,” she said as she plopped herself onto the edge of his bed.  Realizing how crazy she sounded, she added, “Oh, forget it.”

Brandon cautiously eased himself down on the far edge of the mattress, being careful not to get so close that she felt threatened.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” he said with firm gentleness.

The distraught beauty eyed Brandon long and hard. If he was any other person, she’d never consider telling the tale she was about to tell for fear of being labeled insane, but this was Brandon.

This was a man who fought next to her against Dominic, his demon wolves, and finally the fire.

After what he’d gone through, telling him about a ghost would probably seem like a bedtime story.

She drew a deep breath and began her tale.

****

Brandon sat behind the steering wheel of Dennis’s SUV and honked the horn. What was taking so long? Tara told him she was ready fifteen minutes ago. Women!

“It’s rude to honk like that,” Tara clipped as she hopped into the passenger’s seat.

He watched her struggle with the seat belt for as long as he could stand it before giving in and assisting her. She surprised him by accepting his help more graciously than he’d expected.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s rude. I’m not myself lately,” he offered humbly as he scowled at his own behavior.

He put the vehicle in gear and started down the drive toward their destination.

Tara was so busy being overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions she felt towards Brandon that she never took into consideration the fact that he too experienced a life altering, traumatic ordeal and he may have been holding back his true aftershock. From their conversations, she determined that he was alone in the world with no family to turn to for support while he healed. A spec of compassion trickled into her as she thought about how difficult it must be for him to just keep on with life as if nothing had happened. Although tempted to touch his arm and tell him she understood, she refrained. Until her emotions were under control where he was concerned, it was probably best if she held herself back. Pulling her thoughts back to the situation at hand, she decided to change the subject.

“The library isn’t far from here,” she offered.

 “I know. I visit it quite a bit when I’m in town,” Brandon said with a light laugh. “I even have my own library card.”

 “Are you serious? I didn’t know they gave cards to people who weren’t residents,” she said.

He shrugged,

“I kill a lot of time there,” he explained. “I guess the fact that I practically live there was enough.”

 “Now, I feel bad,” she said lightly. “Not only am I not in possession of a library card, but I’ve never stepped foot into the building and I’m a resident. You put me to shame.”

“Hardly,” he chuckled, “I have to do a lot of research for my assignments or, believe me, I wouldn’t be there as much as I am; if ever.”

 “Well, I really should have at least checked it out by now,” Tara said with a sigh. “Time’s flown by. It seems like only yesterday I was a kid having ice cream with my grandmother at the local ice cream parlor.”

 “I thought the same thing,” Brandon stated as he focused on a patch of precariously looking road.

“You ate ice cream with my grandmother?” she said with amusement.

He tossed his head back in a short laugh and said, “Funny. What I meant was it seems like the year has flown by for me and I’m not really sure what I’ve accomplished.”

Tara smiled with admiration as she realized her companion’s driving skills. She was certain she wouldn’t be able to maneuver the patch of black ice as competently as he just had without stopping all conversation and focusing solely on the task at hand.

“Where did you learn to drive?” she asked.

“Why?” Brandon asked, puzzled. “Did I do something wrong?”

“On the contrary, your skills are quite impressive,” she replied, “especially for a southern boy.

“Thanks, yank,” he drawled.

Brandon’s smile was full and genuine. Perhaps he was making headway with the beauty next to him. Having her distance herself from him at a time like this was excruciating. He needed her close.  They needed to work together. He watched her from the corner of his eye -a skill he’d mastered as a youth. She looked amazingly identical to Lucy. Her personality was altered slightly, which was to be expected, but her looks were uncanny. Having only met one other who’d gone through the soul sharing process, Maggie -and having her be older than her doppelganger- Brandon was a little out of his element in dealing with the situation. He’d only just realized who Maggie was and shared information to open her memories when the fight with Dominic set in.  He thought the only reason she hadn’t developed full memory by her age was because she hadn’t been exposed to someone like him who could prompt it to resurface from beneath the veil of forgetfulness. He was certain if she’d recognized him and remembered who she was and her purpose for being there earlier, things would have turned out differently.

Tara watched her companion with little side glances. There was something about him that she was only just noticing. His gentlemanly charm was outdated, as if he was from another era; a time gone by. She assumed it was the result of his worldly travels. Life in Manhattan exposed her to a variety of cultures that absorbed people into their own expression. This was probably the case with Brandon.

She had to admit his life certainly seemed far more interesting than hers. She’d traveled very little. It wasn’t that she disliked travel. It was just that there weren’t many opportunities. She lived through her father’s wonderful tales of exploring and discovery.

In another time and under different circumstances when she wasn’t worried about her brother and didn’t struggle to hold herself back from the urge to swoon over his handsome, chiseled face and super-hot physique she would enjoy hearing about his travels.

****

Although the library’s occult section was quite impressive, they were unsuccessful in their search for information on the shadow people. Saddened and disheartened, Tara asked Brandon if he’d consider extending his visit. She needed help and could hardly report a ghost appearing and telling her shadow people kidnapped her brother to the police. She may hate having to deal with her fickle body whenever he was around, but Brandon believed and understood what she was claiming happened to Dennis.

Brandon agreed.

Another storm was rearing its ugly head in the distance. Although still far away, they could feel its fury through the heaviness of the static filled air. Brandon listened carefully to Tara’s instructions for securing the house against the forces of nature that were soon to come. The disappointment in her voice was obvious. Not only did they have to stop searching for a way to rescue Dennis, but they were forced to endure a storm the likes of which were rarely seen. It was unfair.

The two storms Tara already weathered were taxing to get through, yet they were reported to be far milder than the one that was on its way. The storms carried with them an unbearable, never-ending battering of icy winds that taunted threats to lift her house from its foundation. If these storms were milder than the one making its way in their direction, she shuddered to think what was in store for them.

Thankful for modern technology and weather stations, Brandon took advantage of the calm before the storm and climbed the ladder to the top windows of the house to secure the shutters. This was something that wasn’t done before. Although he wasn’t thrilled with heights, hearing the weatherman’s predictions gave him the incentive he needed to persevere. Covering as much of the old structure’s vulnerability as possible should make a world of difference. The house was solidly built.  Even in its disrepair the structure was strong and firm. Old man O’Shea knew how to build a fortress.

Tara was both grateful for and relieved by Brandon’s help. For a brief time, she forgot about the tragedy they’d lived through together. She watched his strong physique stretch to its full length as he secured the last shutter and imagined what it would be like to be cradled in his strong arms while curled up in front of a roaring fire to ward off the cold.  Her body froze as she realized her thoughts. What was wrong with her? How could her thoughts go in that direction when she needed to be focusing on saving Dennis? She scolded her wayward body and mind while she admired the flexing of his thighs and buttocks as he cautiously picked his way down the ladder.

“Is something wrong?” he asked while he brushed at his pant legs after hopping off the ladder.

“Other than the fact that my brother’s been kidnapped by shadow people?” she replied, a little more briskly than intended while she did her best to gather composure.

“Forgive my ignorant question,” he stumbled.

“No,” she smiled warmly, “forgive me. My abruptness was uncalled for. It’s just that... well... I’m frightened, and I wish Maggie was here.” 

She hated liars, but she saw no reason to go into detail and share her full thoughts with him. Since she actually had thought of Maggie and really did wish the old woman was there to help them, she wasn’t lying, but simply omitting facts.

“Well,” he said as he lowered the ladder and pulled it away from the house, “I’m not Maggie, but I promise to do everything I can to help get Dennis back.”

Tara smiled. The more she allowed herself to relax in Brandon’s company, the easier it was to be with him. She was beginning to see why Dennis liked him so much.  Although the two men suffered at the hands of Dominic together, their bond went deeper to a point she was only just starting to understand.

Feeling encouraged by Tara’s warm countenance, but not wanting to ruin it by assuming too soon, Brandon positioned the ladder over his well-developed shoulder with grace and ease. 

“I’ll put this in the shed,” he said as he started to walk to the small building not far from the barn. “Is there anything else that needs to be done?”

“I think that’s it,” she replied with barely disguised admiration. “I’ll tend to Sugar while you put the ladder away and I’ll meet you in the house.”

Brandon swelled with joy at the warm tone of her voice and the genuine smile she flashed before she scooted off to the stable. Could it be she was finally letting him in? Dare he hope?

****

Evening came and along with it the dreaded storm. Tara offered Brandon a dinner of hearty lamb stew from a batch she’d frozen, with warm corn bread on the side. It was a fitting meal for a cold winter’s night and he devoured it with gusto.

The one thing he’d learned in the few times he’d spent alone with Tara was that food wasn’t a priority. That part of her personality hadn’t changed one bit. He found this fascinating, since she proved to be a wonderful cook -both now and then- when the mood struck. He quickly determined to readily accept food whenever it was offered, for he never knew when she’d think to offer it again. As was the case today. This was the first she’d fed him since breakfast. Fortunately, he was comfortable enough to rummage the cupboards for a snack to hold him over while passing through the kitchen earlier in the day.

After his third helping of stew, he regretted his gluttonous ways. His stomach gave all of the warning signs of being abused. Excusing himself from the table, he made his way to the study in hopes that if he stretched his body out and relaxed he could avoid what seemed like it might be the inevitable. Tara chuckled to herself as she watched him leave the kitchen. She was amazed by the amount of food he’d consumed. It came as no surprise when he felt the negative effects of his incredulous actions. She always marveled at other’s abilities to pack away such an enormous amount of food in one sitting. She possessed a very limited ability and found one small serving more than enough work for her body to digest. This was probably the reason for her slender figure. That and a good metabolism. She’d never have to worry about excess pounds creeping on when she grew older. At least she hoped she wouldn’t.

She took her time cleaning the kitchen, happy for the comforting knowledge that there was another person in the house during such a trying time, even if they were separated by a few rooms.

Preparing for the storm had temporarily taken their thoughts away from finding Dennis. Now that they were safe and secure, his abduction was once again heavy on their minds. They agreed to do their best to refrain from panic. They needed their thoughts clear to think of a way to rescue him. A peaceful and relaxed demeanor would give their minds the freedom necessary to brainstorm. Hopefully the solution to their dilemma would miraculously pop into one of their heads.

She knew little if anything about the shadow people, but their name alone stated so much. She had no idea why they kidnapped Dennis, but was grateful for the ghost telling her. So much had changed about and around her. If a ghost appeared to her a year ago and told her he was her father from another time and shadow people took her brother, she’d have run to a psychiatrist.

She found Brandon stretched out on the fainting sofa next to the fireplace. The rhythm of his loud snores blended with the crackling of the roaring fire and the hammering of the winds. She couldn’t blame him for dozing off. The exertion of securing the house and stress over Dennis’s abduction, not to mention the horrible greeting she gave him when he arrived, all had to have taken its toll on the poor man.

She scowled. As much as she kept labeling the feelings she had for Brandon as physical, deep inside her she knew it was more than that. She just couldn’t identify its exact nature. Even after all that happened, she had this nagging urge to trust him, cuddle him, and lay safe in his arms. It was a different type of attraction than what she felt for Dominic. It was softer, subtler, and very deep rooted.  It felt like a combination of friend and lover, mixed with incredible physical sparks.

She wondered if he felt anything for her other than the bond created from surviving their war with Dominic together. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers who had nothing in common and who would never befriend each other under normal circumstances to bond after battling side by side. Was it this way for him?  Maybe it was true with Brandon’s feeling for her, but not with Dennis.  She knew for a fact that Brandon and Dennis would have become friends no matter how they met.  They had too much in common not to.

Deciding not to disturb him, she made her way to the den on the second floor. The day had been long and grueling. The necessity of preparing for the storm overshadowed her need to find a way to rescue Dennis. Now that the house was secure, delightfully cozy, and quiet, she could meditate and hope the information they weren’t able to obtain at the public library would be provided to her by the spirit world.

She hadn’t meditated since Maggie’s death. In fact, she hadn’t done much of anything except wander the house in a semi-daze while doing only what she absolutely had to do for survival over the winter months to come. The few times Liam tried to contact her, she insisted he leave her alone -which of course in his serene and respectful way he did. She wondered if he’d totally left or if he watched her from a distance. Perhaps he’d have the answers she sought.

Was it wrong to push him away like she did and then go to him because she needed help now? Would he even help her after the way she behaved? There was only one way to find out.

After lighting a candle, burning sage to cleanse and balance the room’s energy, and sweetening it up with incense, she positioned herself for meditation.

She almost instantly felt herself being swept away into another world with incredible intensity. It was both exciting and frightening. She did her best to maintain an overall balance to avoid hindering the experience. In the past, she’d get so overwhelmed that her balance was thrown off and she’d snap back into reality. This time it had to be different. She needed to learn how to find Dennis and bring him back. She needed to know who the shadow people were and why they took her brother like they did.

Flecks of colored light flitted around her. Instead of feeling cold, she was incredibly warm. Shifting to a more comfortable position, she kept her eyes closed and focused on her mission. It was only a brief moment longer when she found herself standing in a very familiar field of flowers stretching as far as the eye could see. Sensing she was safe, she slowly picked her way across the field, still feeling its familiarity, but not sure where such familiarity would lead her. Guilt nagged at her from deep within. This place was lovely, but she needed to find Dennis.  With all of her might, she willed for the field to end and the answers to come to her.

Off in the distance appeared the very faint sky line of a small city. She eagerly headed toward it. As she got closer she was able to make out the rooftops amongst large, mature trees. The village looked historic. She was close enough to see activity and life within its streets and buildings when Liam appeared in front of her. Perhaps she was at one of those restored historic villages that catered to tourists, like Williamsburg, Virginia. That was a possibility.

“Greetings,” he said warmly.

Tara hoped to find Liam, but she wasn’t prepared for the blinding golden aura resonating around his flesh-like body. Prior to this, he’d appeared in a less life-like condition with a more subdued lighting around him. She squinted her eyes to ease the stress on them.

Noticing her discomfort, Liam dimmed his aura to a level that was more tolerable for her.

“I apologize. I miscalculated your level of vibrational tolerance,” he said in a gentle, soothing manner.

“My level of... What are you talking about?” she asked.

Although she wasn’t certain, she assumed that Liam referred to the brilliant light around him, since it dimmed almost immediately upon his statement. Even so, she felt compelled to state she didn’t understand. By doing so, she might receive a brief explanation in metaphysical terms which was something she suddenly realized she dearly missed. She hadn’t had a lesson in the mystical arts since the last one she received from Maggie. Since then she pushed herself as far away from the world of the occult as she could.

“Everything in existence vibrates, dear one. The higher the vibrational frequency, the closer it is to the Source from which we all come,” Liam stated softly. He allowed this bit of information a little time to sink in before continuing, “When I appear before you, I must adjust my vibration to one that you’re able to tolerate through your human sensory system. There are very few humans who can withstand the purity of the energy that comes from being so close to the Source of All That Is.”

Tara creased her brows.

“I thought that the higher the vibration was, the less visible it became,” she mused.

Liam smiled.

“Speed of vibration does indeed make visibility more difficult, but speed of vibration is not the same as the level of vibration. A very low-level vibration can still have great speed and invisibility to the human senses,” he explained.

 “Oh,” Tara replied. She mulled on Liam’s answer, doing her best to digest its meaning to its fullest extent. “I think I understand.”

“Very good,” Liam smiled. He folded his arms across his chest and brought himself to his fullest height. “Now, how may I be of assistance?”

“Oh!” Tara said in surprise. “I don’t know. I ... I mean, I do know. I looked for you. I hoped you could help me and then I saw that village and thought... I’m looking for the shadow people.” Although Liam’s face was expressionless, she sensed his displeasure.

He cleared his throat before saying in a firm tone, “You seek the shadow people in the village beyond? May I ask why?”

“I sat down in meditation and asked for information on them and this is where I ended up” she explained.

“I see,” he said in a flat tone.

“They took my brother,” she added.

“I see,” he said again in the same flat tone.

“I need to find them and get him back,” she said with a bit of desperation in her voice.

“Indeed,” he replied.

Tara was exasperated at the calm, almost detached demeanor Liam displayed. What kind of interaction was this? Wasn’t he supposed to help her in times like this? From the way he was responding she expected very little assistance from him; if any. Her patience ran out, “Are you going to help me?” “Would you like me to help you?” he asked.

A loud gust of air burst from her lungs. Of course, she wanted him to help her. This was intolerable, and certainly not what she expected when she went into meditation. Maybe she should just stop and try something else.

“If you wish for my assistance, you will have it. You need only ask,” Liam stated in a soft, but firm voice. “You must ask. I have stated this before. Unless you specifically request my aid and assistance, I must only stand-by, listen, and observe.” Liam shook his head, “It can be a very disheartening position to be in, I can assure you.”

Tara’s words were controlled and deliberate as she said, “Will you please help me find the shadow people?”

“The people you seek will not be found in the village beyond. They are not of this realm. You will, however, find all that you need in the book of magic that was gifted to you by your dear friend. Look inside it and your questions will be answered.” “I forgot about that book,” Tara said excitedly.

Liam bowed, “Is there anything more that I may assist you with?”

“Can you find my brother and bring him back to me?” Tara asked, hopefully.

“Alas, dear one, I cannot,” he replied. “This is a task that you must complete by your own volition. I can, however, be there for you as I have been in the past.”

She didn’t understand the ways of the spirit guide one bit. Sometimes they can help, sometimes they can’t help. It was all too confusing.

“I really don’t understand,” she said with a scowl. “How come you can help me in times of peril, but you can’t help me when my brother is in peril?”

“It does seem complicated, does it not?” Liam replied.  He tapped his finger on his chin while the considered the best response. “I am the guide and the protector who has been assigned to you and you alone. Your brother also has a guide and protector assigned to him. We respond and protect only those who we are assigned to. Rarely, if ever, do we cross assignments.” Liam watched Tara for signs of cognition before continuing.

“But,” Tara replied, “you helped Dennis and Brandon when they were trapped in the fire.”

“I came to your aid and assistance. Dennis and Brandon just happened to be able to reap the benefits of my assistance to you and escape the fate that awaited them had they not gotten out of the house,” he explained. “I was able to assist your friend and her dog with a small amount of healing energy, but that was the extent of it.  It was her duty to call upon her own guide which, alas, she did not.” Liam watched Tara carefully for signs that she understood and accepted his explanation. When he saw puzzlement in her expression he continued, “Think of life as a school and the earth is one big classroom. I am your tutor and, in small ways your body guard. Now, I enjoy my responsibilities very much. This is good because I too am in school; but in a different kind of classroom, with a different form of advancement. By performing these responsibilities that I enjoy so much, I am actually progressing in my own school. Do you understand what has been said so far?” She slowly nodded her head.

“Very good,” he stated with satisfaction. “Now,” he continued, “if another guide steps into my school and assumes my responsibilities, that guide deprives me of my progression, as well as my joy. Think of it like someone doing your homework for you in history class. How could you ever pass the course? Surely, the end result would be lack of progression and great sadness over it. For us it is similar. Therefore, we do not -to coin a human phrase- ‘step on toes’.” “Could you if you absolutely needed to?” she persisted.

“It is complicated,” he said softly.

“Could you?” she almost screamed.

Liam closed his eyes and nodded.

“So, why don’t you,” she asked, exasperated.

“I am not your magical genie,” he said gently, but firmly. “You are not in danger; nor , at the present, is he. The Spiritual Laws state that I must allow you and your brother to experience your lessons and provide you with guidance as needed and requested. Hence the term ‘Spirit

Guide’.”

Tara squared her shoulders and twisted a knot out of her neck. She wondered if she’d ever understand the world Liam lived in. There were so many unanswered questions. 

“Well,” she sighed, “can I ask why Dennis’s guide hasn’t helped him?”

“Alas,” Liam hung his head, “too many humans are still closed to the connection of their guide and do not ask for help. If help is not asked for...”

“Help isn’t given,” she said flatly as she finished Liam’s sentence. He smiled, but made no comment to the fact that her interruption was rude. “So,” she continued, “are you saying that if

Dennis was connected to his guide; his guide could save him?” “Possibly,” Liam’s stated in a controlled, but gentle voice.

“Possibly?” she almost screeched with frustration.

Tara held her head. This was all too confusing.

“There are many factors involved in the relationship between a human and his or her designated guide,” Liam explained. “There are rules that must be followed. These rules were put into place to prevent the guide from unintentionally stripping the human from the much-needed education and opportunity for progression that the privilege of life provides.” He began to pace. “The joy of assisting is so great that if the rules had not been put into place, we could easily perform every task for our charges.” He stopped pacing and turned to look Tara directly in the eye. “Although this would please us greatly, our charges would not move forward on their journey, nor would we; for it is the lessons of life that are the prize of the experience.” He regarded her intently, as if waiting for her response.

“I still don’t understand,” Tara eventually admitted.

It sounded to her like Liam came up with some type of cop-out for not being able to, or maybe not wanting to help rescue her brother.

 “We are forbidden to interfere with your lessons of life and aid you unless you ask and the assistance is justified,” Liam said as he continued to pace. “We cannot take away your right to free-will and assume that our help is desired when, in fact, it may be just the opposite. We are also not allowed to perform miracles for you...” “But, the fire...” Tara broke in.

“Unless your life is in danger or you are experiencing some other form of need extraordinaire when you call on us,” Liam continued calmly. “We are allowed to instruct you on how to perform them yourself and we are allowed to assist you in performing them, but we do not perform them ourselves unless there is a dire need. We are allowed to rescue you in times of peril, providing it is not your soul’s chosen time to leave your body.” “How would you know that?” she asked.

“We are able to see far more than a human can see,” he explained. “When your time has come for your soul to shed your body, you are shadowed by Death.” “Death,” Tara shuddered.

“Death is feared by man,” Liam explained, “but in reality, Death is a loving entity who is doing a great service to souls by assisting them in their journey and making it easy for them to shed the weight of their physical body and continue on.”

“How long is Death shadowing you before you die?” Tara asked timidly, not certain she wanted to hear the answer.

“There is not an absolute response for that question. Each human life is reviewed by the board and Death is sent accordingly. Some humans are shadowed for months before they actually make their transition and others only seconds,” he replied.  “There was a time when Death did not exist,” Liam sighed, “but, the body of the human grew far too heavy and polluted for the soul to bear, so out of great love for his children the Source of All That Is assigned an angel he held dearest to become Death. It was at this time that reincarnation began. Now, instead of being burdened with a heavy and polluted physical body while one learns and progresses, one is given the opportunity to shed the worn out and polluted vessel in lieu of a newer and fresher vessel.

This is indeed a gift.”

“I hadn’t thought of it in that way,” Tara mused, “It does make sense.”

Liam chuckled as he said, “It does indeed.”

“So, what do I do now?” she asked in earnest.

“I suggest you consult with the book,” Liam replied as he bowed his head and slowly backed away. “Always remember that I am near. You need only call my name.” “Three times, right?” Tara replied, hoping he’d confirm her statement.

He didn’t.

She watched in wonderment as Liam was engulfed by a twirling funnel of rainbow colors while he rose into the sky and disappeared into nothingness. She took one last look at the charming little village in the distance. It was tempting to continue on and investigate it closer, but she needed to find her brother. Even though Liam said Dennis wasn’t in any danger, he’d included “at the present time”.  This lead her to believe that this could change. There was no time to waste. She turned her back on the little village and willed herself to return into her body. She was grateful she paid such close attention to Maggie’s instructions.  As the village faded she could have sworn she saw the ghost Alana called Papa walking down the street. She did her best to focus on him, but her surroundings were receding fast and she lost the vision.

When she opened her eyes, the room was dark. Since she hadn’t consulted a clock before meditating, she had no idea how much time had passed. Judging from the burned down candles and the coolness of the air, she guessed she’d been at it long enough for Brandon to go to bed.

The wind no longer threatened the house with its incessant battering. She used to love that sound. She used to feel snug and secure in her shelter while Mother Nature had her way before her ordeal with Dominic. Now when the winds beat and battered at her windows and walls, she

sometimes trembled and waited for Dominic’s terrifying voice to follow.

The thought of Dominic brought back visions of Maggie’s final moments and the fact that Tara only narrowly escaped the same fate, if not worse. Chills permeated to the very marrow of her bones and the hair stood up along the back of her neck. Rubbing at her forearms, she decided to start a fire and grab a cup of herbal tea before settling down to search through the book. She did her best to push Dominic out of her mind and set about her tasks.