image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

I woke up feeling slightly disoriented and groggy. Raising my head and wiping some drool off my chin I tried to force the lethargy from my brain. How long had I been out? The sun was up, and I could feel the tent heating fast. Colson was tinkering with something near the fire outside.

“Morning, kid!” he called in a jovial voice.

I almost jumped. That guy must've had super hearing or something.

“Good morning, Colson,” I said in response.

Hearing his heavy footfalls getting closer I sat up.

“Can I open the zipper?” I could hear his grin, “are you decent?”

Rolling my eyes, I confirmed that I was, in fact, decent. He opened the zipper and stuck his head in.

“Breakfast is ready in five,” he looked way too fresh, I guess he was a morning person. “It’s around 8:30. All things considered; I’d say you got about nine hours of sleep last night.”

Last night. Right. I didn’t know what to say. Why was I so bad at expressing myself?

“Colson-”

He held up a hand to stop me from talking.

“Kid, you’re wound tighter than an eight-day clock. Gods know I have firsthand experience in running around with stress or trauma, but that’s me. Like I said yesterday I don’t know you that well, but I know you can’t outdo years of… whatever this is” — he gestured in my general direction — “in an afternoon. Sounds like you had an outlet last night—which is good. We’ll talk about it all some other time when there’s more trust going around. All I’ll say is it’s not healthy to run around with your emotions all bottled up. It screws up your mind, makes you volatile down the road. Angry. Bitter. We’ll get around to it, but you don’t have to explain yourself right now alright?” He took a deep breath, which was fair, his words had been coming pretty rapidly at the end.

Musing for a good thirty seconds I thought about what he said. I enjoyed the fact that he didn’t put pressure on me. I’d get to it in my own time and process it gradually.

“Alright. Man, you really had that whole thing rehearsed huh?” I asked jokingly.

Beaming at me, he winked. “Had all night, I did! How’d I do?”

“Eh, it was so-so.”

“Prick,” he said.

I smiled.

“OH, HE SMILES! HALLELUJAH!”

I threw my pillow at his face and he headbutted it out of the air.

“Breakfast in two. Up and at ‘em.”

Turning around I started finding my clothes and rolling up my sleeping bag.

There was a noise like two pieces of Velcro being ripped apart, followed by the sound of the tent zipper closing. Puzzled, I looked at the tent entrance he’d just vacated. Why’d he zip it closed again? Then the smell hit me.

“COLSON!” I yelled.

I heard his roaring laughter trail off as he walked to the fire.

We had a nice breakfast, bacon, and eggs, and in thirty or so minutes we were packed up and back on the road. The drive would take us between four to five hours. We spent the time mostly talking about our surroundings, movies, TV, and music. About two hours in we decided on a game.

Colson and I would chat as normal, and then if we were able, we’d work a reference from pop culture into the conversation. If the other person spotted it and could name the source, they’d get a point, and if they didn’t, the quotee got the point. I decided it would be unfair if Colson could quote stuff made in the early 1900s since apparently, he’d watched everything in the Hollywood archives, so we stuck to 1990 and onwards.

An hour later we pulled to a stop at a gas station because we needed fuel and Colson was out of cigarettes.

While Colson went to buy his smokes, I removed my phone from the AUX and turned on the radio to listen to the news.

“… are still baffled by the body of the runaway lion that escaped from the Alexandria Zoo last night. Our field reporter Daniel was on the scene where they found the body and managed to snag a couple of words from a veterinarian. She had this to say:

“Now? Yeah, the zookeepers didn’t notice she was gone until this morning. They caught her on the surveillance jumping the enclosure from their play tree. I don’t think anyone expected that. Yeah, they alerted the police, of course. Procedures and all that. Tranquilizers? No, when a big cat escapes you generally want to put it down before it hurts anyone. We’re lucky she fell and broke her neck like that. Claw marks indicate she tried to climb a tree and didn’t realize how far up she was. Then she probably changed her mind and tried to go back down. Must’ve been one hell of a landing though, to twist her head like that.”

“How did she get so far from the zoo?” a different voice asked.

“Uh, I’m not a zoologist so I can’t talk to their general behaviour, but I’d assume she wanted to find somewhere familiar to settle down. Mena was brought in from Africa after she was injured by poachers, the pride accepted her and all that. She probably tried to go for a place that kinda reminded her of the Savannah. Best place to fit the bill ‘round here would’ve been Fort Buhlow for sure. I gotta get back, we’re taking it in for an autopsy.”

“That’s crazy Phil—,” a radio host started, as I turned the radio off.

Crazy was damn right. Holy shit. There’d been a lion on the loose where we’d camped out. I know Fort Buhlow was a pretty big area, but it could’ve killed us! Shuddering slightly, I pictured different scenarios in my head. Maybe we could’ve rebuffed it if we were both up and awake. Intimidate it to run away. My imagination was still in full throttle as Colson came back.

“Alright good to go,” he held up a receipt. “A couple more hours, then we’ll be there. We’re gonna go see a friend of mine first thing. Get that package delivered for your father,” there was a slight pause, “you okay, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I was just listening to the news while you were gone,” I explained, “apparently, a lion escaped the zoo and was running around in Fort Buhlow last night. Lucky for us it had a freak accident and fell down and broke its neck or something,” I finished.

“Damn, that’s wild,” he started the car, looking nonplussed at the information. “Wait I thought cats were always supposed to land on their feet?”

“Housecats, maybe. I’m not sure about big cats. Wait, that’s it? I thought you’d be more shocked. We’re lucky to be alive.”

“We sure are. Like a jackrabbit in a den of wolves—fortunate to be alive. Maybe we could’ve scared it off between the two of us. Lions are pack hunters after all. Or pride hunters, I should say. As long as we didn’t behave as prey.”

“Yeah, maybe,” was my response.

I didn’t like our chances.

“Five points for Colson, three for Ethan,” he said gleefully, out of nowhere.

“Wait what? Since when?” I was aghast, I hadn’t caught on at all.

“The jackrabbit comment was a quote from Slow West. 2015,” he informed me.

“Damn.”

“You snooze you lose, kid.”

We passed the time the same as we’d done yesterday and were soon in the city proper.

I’d seen big cities in the movies of course, but it was different being here in the flesh. So many people. I tried to take it all in, but there were so many impressions, it was completely impossible. Crossing the Mississippi, we headed north to a place called Algiers Point, where Colson’s friend had a business. He told me she dealt with rare artefacts and that she was an avid practitioner of ancient naturism.

“Ethan, under no circumstances should you mention anything about her hair, got it?” Colson told me seriously as we were parking the car.

I looked at him, puzzled. “Why, what’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“Some of it was singed off when she performed a rite, and it never grew back right. It’s a sore spot for her, OK?”

“Wait, literally a sore spot?”

“No, not literally, figuratively,” Colson said and pondered for a moment. “Maybe literally, I don’t know actually. I’ve never asked.”

“Alright, I won’t mention anything don’t worry,” I told him seriously.

“Good man! Help me carry in our stuff. I called her this morning and asked if we could spend the night. She said we could, and that she’d be cooking up some grub. She’s a hell of a cook.”

We got out of the car carrying our stuff in one go. It was a green inviting friendly-looking bungalow with a wide veranda at the front. There were loads of lanterns and outdoor candle holders in various states of disrepair. I could imagine how cosy it would be having them all lit at night. Above her front door hung a large wooden sign that said:

Mother Imara’s Odds and Ends

Below was another sentence in a language I didn’t know.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

When we reached the door, I had an odd sense of foreboding. As though my body didn’t look forward to the prospect of entering the house. Colson entered without preamble and a small bell tinkled.

“Hey, Imara! It’s Colson. I’m here with… Ethan what are you doing, come on!” He added in a lowered voice as he looked at me and gestured with his head for me to come inside.

Swallowing nervously, I walked up to the threshold and slipped my right foot over the line, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. Breathing a sigh of relief I wondered at the feeling, but when I went inside the foreboding sensation vanished.

What is going on with me lately?

Colson nodded and a woman’s voice sounded from another room in a smooth velvety voice that carried easily. “Just a minuuuute!” she sang.

Setting our things down I looked around the shop. It was colourful and, well, mostly green. We were standing in the lobby, with various green display cases in all shapes and sizes standing on small plinths or shelves all around us. Many of them held small plaques in front, but some didn’t. At the other end of the room opposite the doorway stood a small counter with an old-fashioned cash register.

The cases held various items such as jewellery, books, and herbs, and there were even some with bones. The spaces that weren’t occupied by cases held various plants and small trees, all flourishing.

I took a deep breath and realised it smelled similar to when you stood in a wet forest. Earthy, musty, and flowery. Just as I was about to check out one of the cases with bones, a small elderly woman entered the lobby and joined us.

Her face was lined with age. Yet, she looked... powerful, somehow. As if weakness was an inevitability she didn’t subscribe to. Her green eyes sparkled as she took us in. She was wearing dark trousers and a loose shirt, with an apron over her clothes. Her hair was black as night and woven into a long thick braid that hung over one shoulder. I couldn’t see any sign of it being singed off anywhere.

She beamed at us—and for a split second I imagined I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever seen—standing across from me. Then I blinked once and the superimposed image was gone.

“Be welcome,” her silky voice rolled over us and immediately I felt it.

I felt welcome. Like I was home.

Who on earth are these people?

“Colson, tik prieks tevi redzēt,” she spoke in a language I didn’t understand, as she approached him.

Probably the same language as the one on the sign outside, I presumed.

“Un tu, Māte,” Colson replied warmly as they grabbed each other around the elbows, and he bent down to kiss her on both cheeks.

Taking him in for a moment she sighed in contentment. Then she focused her gaze on me.

“And who is this handsome young man?” If possible, she smiled even wider as she approached me.

When she reached me, she stopped an arm’s length away, and I had the sudden urge to pull her into a hug.

“This is the kid I told you about. Ethan. Benjamin’s son,” Colson supplied from the counter.

“Let me see you,” she said as she moved closer, “it is. I see him in you. Yet I see your mother more.”

At the mention of her, I went rigid.

With last night’s breakdown, my emotions were nearer to the surface than I’d assumed. Nonetheless, I found it strange. Everyone I’d ever met who knew my mom said I was the spitting image of her. Nobody had ever said I looked like my father.

Before I could ask how she knew my parents, she put her arms out in the same way she had with Colson, and I reciprocated the gesture automatically. Grabbing each other’s elbows, I bent down and kissed her on each cheek before I realized what I was doing.

When her lips touched my skin, it felt like being kissed by the warm rays of the summer sun, the feeling heating my cheeks. As I revelled in the welcome sensation and made to move away, she let go of my elbows and gently placed her hands on either side of my face.

My movement ceased immediately. With my taller body and the weight difference, I should have automatically pulled away from her. It was pure physics, directional force, and my mind catalogued the oddity reflexively.

I couldn’t move.

She looked into my eyes, searching for something. Then she closed her own and bent her head forward slightly. I mirrored her movement and did the same, and our foreheads touched.

I was enveloped in the feeling of warmth. Of comfort. Of heart and home, tenderness, and belonging.

“Oh, child.”

She said the word with an impact that had the weight of a mountain behind it, and I felt tears run down my cheeks. She eased the pressure and we moved apart. I saw that her cheeks mirrored my own.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly while I wiped my eyes, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“Occasionally we shed tears of joy and at times we shed tears of sadness, Ethan. Never apologize for either,” she responded kindly, “I am Imara, but most just call me Mother.”

“Well, uhm, hi Imara.”

She nodded a couple of times, letting go of my hands that I didn’t even notice she’d grasped. One thing I did notice was that the sun shone through a different set of windows than when we had arrived. How long had we been standing like that?

“Very well. Ethan, if you would be so kind, could you carry yours and Colson’s things into the two rooms just through the hallway behind the counter? All the way down and on either side.”

“Of course, Imara,” I moved to comply immediately.

“There’s a good lad."

image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

Colson

After they’d been standing there for an hour, I’d left to do some maintenance on the car. When I heard them talking in the lobby, I knew they were done, and I checked my phone. Four hours and eleven minutes. Damn.

I went inside just as Imara told Ethan to move our luggage into the guest rooms. We both watched Ethan as he struggled with it and walked sideways down the hall. Imara rounded on me as soon as he was out of earshot, her face a storm of rage.

“What the hell did that bastard do to him?” her voice was venomous, the entire house responding to her discontent, pressing down on me. If I’d been the target of her anger, I’d probably already be dead.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Ethan hasn’t told me anything other than he grew up in the boarding school and it sounded like he’d been up to his ears in work ever since. Hagen sent me a video of a spar he did and the kid’s a machine. Almost thirty minutes of non-stop fighting without augmentation. Why, what'd you feel?”

“What did I not feel? Pain, anger, loss, failure. And solitude. An ever-encompassing solitude, Colson. There are fleeting moments of love and companionship, which I assume is Emelina’s influence. He puts on a brave face, but it is a brittle mask already rife with cracks. Benjamin should have known better.”

I nodded.

“Figured it was something along those lines. I’ll have to get some specifics when he’s ready to talk about it. I can’t imagine he ever needed anything, so it’s gotta be everything else.”

“Pah,” Imara waved a hand in disgust.

“It has got nothing to do with materialistic goods and is all about nurturing the soul. There are people out there who have had it worse than him, of course, there are, but they are not here. He is, and thus you will help him.”

“Mother- “, I started.

“Colson. Do not make me get the stick.”

I held up my hands in supplication.

“I was just gonna say that I’ve already decided to help him. I like the kid. Regardless, I gave Benjamin my word that I’d keep him around 'til he turns eighteen. I’m doing my best, but you’ve felt what he’s like. He needs time.”

“He does not have time,” her voice had calmed down but was still annoyed. She pulled on her braid anxiously.

“He is about ready to blow, and I am not only talking about his emotions. That was the other thing I was going to mention. He has traces of a Sigil trying to manifest and connect to the rest of his soul, but it is unable to do so. I can feel it, as obvious as the sea crashing against the shore. He should have manifested it years ago.”

Imara took a deep breath.

“He cannot feel it because something is actively preventing it. That is probably also why some of his emotions are so strong. I expect part of his distress comes from his soul’s attempt to tell him a part is missing.”

I felt my eyebrows try to climb off my face. That wasn’t good. There’d been cases in the past where people went batshit or died because parts of their Sigil were missing, sealed, or cut off.

“Is it completely enclosed?” I asked.

“From what I could feel it was completely closed off, yes, but of course I could not see the inside” she considered for a moment. “Even if he was just a normal, I think that without whatever block is in place both dividing and protecting it, he would already have gone completely insane.”

“Do you think Benjamin…” I didn’t finish the question. There were theories of course, but that was one thing. Sigil tampering and experimentation on your son was another entirely.

“I do not know,” she took another deep breath. “Maybe it is something Benjamin did, perhaps it is the nature of Ethan's upbringing, or perhaps it is self-imposed. To me, it felt like there was outside influence.”

“I’ll wake him up tomorrow,” my voice was stony.

“See that you do. I have put a Blessing on him,” she looked at me and raised her eyebrows. “By the way, why has he been staring at my ha-”

“Imara,” Ethan’s call sounded from the hallway. “Is it okay if I move this plant away from the desk?”

“Of course, dear, let me show you where to put it,” she answered as she hurried off.

I didn’t get a chance to explain that I was playing a prank on the kid. Time and places and all that.

“Well, shit. Kid’s in for a rude awakening,” I muttered under my breath.

image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Imara had prepared an amazingly varied assortment of food. Freshly baked bread, beef roast, fried vegetables, mashed potatoes, you name it. I didn't think I’d ever eaten that well.

While we ate, I asked her about her business, and she told me she did indeed collect rare and ancient artefacts. She had several people in her employ, Colson sometimes among them, searching the world for ‘its hidden heritage’ as she called it.

Other than that, she also acted as a middleman for several institutions and passed on contracts and bounties for various purposes to qualified individuals—chosen at her discretion.

Because what she looked for was so culturally varied, she said that she catered to a large clientele and that she’d been at it for a long time. When I pressed her on it, she just told me it was longer than she’d known my dad. As vague an answer as any.

Colson was unusually quiet through the whole affair, but I suspected he was just enjoying the food even more than me.

When we were done eating, Imara put her utensils down and looked at me.

“Speaking of bounties, Ethan. I have handed Colson a task to carry out here in New Orleans, tonight. It is my wish that you accompany him, though I ask that you leave any legwork up to him. Do you think you would be up for that?”

“Yes Imara,” I replied promptly.

“Do not take my offer at face value, lad. Take your time to consider what I tell you, be critical in your thinking and ask me what it is about first,” she told me firmly.

I considered her point for a moment. Maybe it’d be wise for me to consider what I was getting myself into before agreeing, “Okay, I can do that. What’s it about?”

She smiled.

“Colson will be searching for something that has potentially been harming the citizens of New Orleans. It will be his job to find and pacify whatever that may be.”

“Really? Wouldn’t that be a job for the police? Wait, you mean whoever, right? Was it animal attacks?” I rapid-fire questioned, as my stomach dropped. I didn’t particularly enjoy the sound of that.

“To answer your first question, no,” she shook her head. “This is not something that law enforcement can do much about. And regarding the second, it is most probably animal-like attacks.”

“Why’s it not something the police can deal with?”

“Because they do not know it is happening. People go missing every day. In the US alone, around 600,000 people will go missing this year. The vast majority will be resolved quickly and amicably, but a large number will be unaccounted for. These people belong to the latter.”

“How do we know, then?”

“Because there are people who specifically look for this type of situation.”

“Why these people specifically? Are they homeless?”

“Indeed, they are people who live on the streets,” Imara smiled sadly.

“Okay. The police don’t know, and if they did, they probably wouldn’t do much unless it gained traction in the press. But we know, and someone’s hired you to do something about it. And Colson can handle it?” I looked at him.

“Told you I was a badass,” Colson interjected, though he didn’t smile.

“Hush,” she admonished, “Colson can indeed handle it, and he can do so without your help. As I said, it is my wish that you go with him, as a learning opportunity. Now, considering what I have told you, what do you say?”

I thought about it for a while. It sounded pretty scary and like something I was in no way equipped to handle.

Following her advice, I decided to ask some more questions before agreeing.

“Will I be in Colson’s way?”

“No.”

“Will I be in danger?”

Colson snorted and Imara stared him down before answering.

“No.”

“Will I be forced to do anything I’d be against?”

“I sincerely hope not, but your limits may be tested.”

“Why do you want me to go with him, specifically?”

“I cannot tell you that, that is for you to find out on your own. Were I to agree to tell you, I do not think you would believe me and then we may run out of time.”

People were missing, as you’d expect it was a time-sensitive issue. I wouldn’t be in danger, I wouldn’t be in the way, and I probably wouldn’t be forced to do anything against my wishes. Sounded as though I’d be an observer to whatever it was, to learn. That didn’t seem so bad.

“I still think it’s strange how it sounds like Colson is a super detective, but alright. With those guarantees, I’m in,” I told them.

“Hey, kid. FYI. Words hurt.”