what elephants know

Chapter 2

The Dawson Electronics corporate jet, five hours out of Ghana, sliced through the azure sky above the Atlantic, its vaporous trail marking its passage. Onboard, Daniel Lockley sat with his hands on his knees, his jaw clinched, and a frown of disbelief on his face.

“You mean to tell me . . .”

“Yes, I do, Daniel.”

“Racdair, that’s impossible,” Daniel shouted. “I thought we said no powers.”

“Calm yourself, my friend,” Racdair said smiling. “I employed no powers to obtain this hand.”

Daniel laughed. “I want to talk to Tyrae. Your mind-partner can’t lie. I’ll believe him. Let Tyrae talk to me.”

Marcus Dawson returned to the cabin from the cockpit. “Della says we’re two hours out of Atlanta. We should land around 5:30, just in time for dinner.” He came and looked over Racdair’s shoulder at his cards.

“Oh, give it up Daniel,” Marcus said. “He’s not bluffing.”

Daniel looked up at Marcus. “I thought he said he’d never heard of Texas Hold’em.” He turned an accusing eye on Racdair. “You’re not going to tell me you never played this game before.”

“If Tyrae must testify to my veracity,” Racdair said, his face a parody of hurt feelings and grief, “then so be it. Tyrae, please speak to Daniel Lockley, the cold-hearted.”

“Oh, that was so uncalled for,” Daniel said, glaring at Racdair.

Marcus laughed and dropped into a chair, filling the space between Daniel and Racdair. “Nothing’s changed in all these years. When we were kids, he was the nemesis of us all. Games of chance, guessing games – anything where odds came into play, he always won. Racdair’s got the devil’s own luck. After two hundred years, he’s still skinning people.”

“Skinning people?” The sound of the voice, indescribably different, but Racdair’s all the same. The slight change in pitch indicated it was Tyrae who spoke, the one who shared Racdair’s mind. “I do not understand. Racdair would not do such a thing.”

“Don’t get indignant, Tyrae,” Marcus said. “I just mean he wins everything that is bet. As kids, we played games where we wagered large berries that grew at the edge of the village. They were quite a treat because they were juicy and sweet and really hard to find. There was no rhyme or reason to where they grew. Among us kids, those berries were like money. We traded things for them, gambled with them. Racdair always had bags full that he’d won off of us.”

“I see,” Tyrae said.

Racdair’s eyes lost focus, looked past them all for a second, and then he was once again in control. “The fact remains that I am all-in Daniel, so may we return to the game at hand?” Racdair tried to school his face away from the smile that crept across his mouth.

Marcus shook his head.

“Damned,” Daniel said. He threw in his cards. “I know when to quit.”

“Dad?” The inquiry announced the return of David Lockley from his very sound sleep. He lounged in one of the sumptuous reclining seats on the other side of the plane.

“Yes?” Both Daniel and Marcus answered. This was no longer a point of confusion for them. David would let them know which he meant, Daniel the stepfather or Marcus the natural one.

“I was thinking about something Gothan said back in the village, before we captured him. He said he was going to do Devilin a favor and kill you. Why would Devilin want you dead? He also said something like he wouldn’t take you for granted this time.”

“Yeah, I meant to ask you about that too, Marc,” Daniel said. “That creature was supposedly in control of Devilin’s body, but he had a truckload of hatred for you. I couldn’t get a handle on which of them was talking most of the time.”

“Indeed,” Racdair said. “When Devilin released the Gothan creature from the talisman back in Atlanta, I think for a time they had a shared consciousness, as Tyrae and I do now. In that time, their thoughts became one. Gothan said Devilin was dead, but I think not. During the stress of the battle, Devilin’s hatred of Marcus took control.”

David righted the seat, stood and stretched. Once again, Daniel was reminded how much he looked and moved like his natural father. Marcus’ thought drifted into his mind.

But that sense of humor is all you, Daniel.

Daniel looked over at Marcus and laughed. “Yeah, he’s pretty twisted.”

“Grandpa, make ‘em stop talking about me,” David said.

Racdair put on his best stern face. “Indeed. My great-great-grandson should not be mocked by you two. He is the product of his genes and upbringing, which damns you both.”

They all laughed.

“Back to Devilin,” David said. “Or Gothan – whichever – he said he’d met you before, Dad.”

“Yes, I just learned that myself,” Marcus said. He cast a glance at Racdair. “This isn’t something I’m proud to talk about.”

Racdair fixed Marcus in a steady, reprimanding gaze. “Why do you continue to burden yourself with this guilt? What happened in St. Louis, Missouri was not of your making.”

“St. Louis?” Daniel asked.

Marcus took a deep breath. “In 1896, I was living in St. Louis. It was just a couple of years before the World’s Fair. I remember I . . . Lawrence . . . was so excited about that.”

He paused for a moment, staring out the window in front of him.

“You know, after two centuries, the other names, the other lives, they’ve begun to feel like separate people. I’ve been Marcus Dawson longer than I’ve been anyone else; using this name even longer than the one I was born to.”

For a few moments, no one said anything. Marcus continued to gaze out the large port window, his emotions playing out across his face. He cleared his throat and continued.

“Uh, as I was saying, I used the name Lawrence Rivers back then. I had a good business and good friends – a good life, but I was thinking about leaving town. People were starting to notice that I wasn’t aging. I was so upset about having to move on again, I didn’t pay attention to what was happening to me.”

Marcus sat up straighter in his seat and swiveled around to face his son.

“It was May . . . hot . . . the hotel was sweltering. I went for a walk down to the river, but it wasn’t really me. I went where my body – my legs, took me – to a rundown shack of a warehouse on the old pier. I had no idea why I went there. I was feverish, angry, and determined to destroy something – anything. I was not myself, literally. I know now that somehow, Gothan had found my mind and possessed me. Racdair’s son, your great-grandfather, David, had brought the Masaic Talisman with him from Africa. He and three other men had come to force me back to the village.”

He took a deep breath.

“Unfortunately, the creature captured within the elephant figurine had taken over my mind . . . used my power to attack them. Not only did unleashing my power kill three of those men, it devastated the nearby city.”

Marcus shuddered and his voice took on a mournful tone.

“History says a tornado swept through St. Louis that day. It did, but nature had nothing to do with it. I was responsible for an incredible amount destruction . . . injuries . . . and death.”

“Daud . . . Marcus, you cannot blame yourself for that. You were not the one that chose to kill. The power has no mind of its own. It does not control the man. The power was in Gothan’s control. He is . . . was the villain.”

“But I should have stopped him . . .”

“You did,” Daniel said. “The way I understand it, you must have somehow kicked his sorry ass out of your head or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Imagine what the world be like if that thing had kept control of your body. Seriously, the entire world might be a different place.”

“I have to go along with that, Dad,” David said. “Your power added to its own? Gothan would have taken over the world. Who knows, the lunatic might have destroyed us all outright.”

“As you say, David,” said Racdair. “That evil, loosed on the world in that time could have easily destroyed everything. Marcus, yours was a victory for mankind. You sent the creature back into oblivion for over a hundred years. We – the world, we all were better equipped to deal with his threat in this time.”

Unlike David and Racdair, Daniel could not read Marcus’ thoughts, but he saw the tightness in his shoulders release a little, and knew Marcus was finally letting go of some of his burden.

“So, we playing cards or what?” Daniel said.

Marcus spun back to the table, a smile forcing its way onto his lips if not into his eyes. “Oh, you are a glutton, aren’t you?”

“Dads, one last question and I promise to let this go,” David said.

“Don’t ask that question, David,” Daniel said.

“Well, it’s already asked, isn’t it?” Marcus said.

Tyrae, not Racdair responded. “What will we do about the destroyer of worlds? What will we do about the heart-eater?”

“OK, Tyrae,” David said. “That’s a bit over the top, isn’t it? Destroyer of worlds?”

Daniel dropped the deck of cards unto the table. “That sort of killed the mood, I think.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“No, I think we need to get this up and out,” Daniel said. “What are we going to do? Are we going to try and track this guy down?”

“I don’t know how we’d do that,” Marcus said. “In any case, I think he’s going to come to us. Whatever he wants, needs from us, I get the feeling he’s not going to give up trying to get it. That little nightmare he induced in all of us back in Atlanta proves he’s got enough power to find our minds whenever he wants to. There won’t be any hiding. We’ll have to be prepared for an attack.”

“That’s why I’m for taking the fight to him,” Daniel said. “We can’t prepare for an enemy we don’t know anything about. Are his powers stronger than yours, Marc? Are they stronger than David’s? What can he do with them? Can he possess people like Gothan did? Tyrae, are there any defenses against this man?”

Daniel was gripped by a large sneeze. He pulled tissue from the caddy in the armrest. “Sorry. I’m just saying, way too many questions for my taste. We can’t afford to just sit and do nothing.”

“I believe you are right, Daniel.” Racdair said, once again in control.

As do I,” said Marcus. He stood and began to pace back and forth. On his third trip back to the table, he stopped and grabbed the back of his chair, now occupied by David.

“If I left tracks on the world that Devilin could follow, I’m willing to bet this guy did too. When we get back, I’m going to put Bonnie on his trail. If we back-track those three guys that died in Atlanta, maybe we can find something – a trail back to their killer.”

“Now that’s a plan,” Daniel said.

“Yes, that would make sense,” Racdair said. “Again, I look forward to meeting your Bonnie. This will be a daunting task. Are you sure she is up to it?”

“He still doesn’t know, does he?” David said grinning.

“Know what?” Racdair asked.

“Hey! Get out of my head, old man,” Marcus said laughing. “Bonnie is a surprise, Racdair, so you’ll just have to wait.”

Racdair pretended to pout and the mood in the cabin lightened. Daniel looked around at his friends, his family. He didn’t have to be psychic to read this picture. They were each determined to enjoy what might be the last few hours of peace they would have for a very long time.

Tags: book, chapter 1, fantasy, fiction, novel, writing

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 31st, 2010 at 5:20 pm and is filed under Book 2. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.