Ancient Forces Collection (13 page)

It was nearly on top of them, its talons extended, its beak open wide.

Now it was Becka’s turn. “By the power and blood of Jesus Christ, we command you to show your true self!”

The talons were within feet of their faces.

“Now!” Ryan added. “Reveal yourself
now!”

Suddenly the bird veered off, coming so close that wind from its wings blew their hair. But Becka and Ryan didn’t budge as the creature swooped upward. Now its movements were sharp, jerky — as though it was struggling with some unseen force. Then there was a flash of light . . . and in place of the eagle was the hideous form of a demon.

The villagers shouted and screamed as the reptilian creature was exposed for all to see.

It circled one last time, preparing for the final assault, but by now three other people had joined Becka and Ryan: Scott, Mom, and Swift Arrow.

It started toward them, its wings drawn together as it began screaming through the air. Now it was Swift Arrow who shouted. His voice rang with clear and absolute authority. “Spirit of hell, I order you to be gone! You have no power here. In the name of Jesus Christ, we cast you into the pit of hell!”

There was another burst of light, much brighter than the first. With the flash came a pounding clap of thunder. And when everyone’s eyes readjusted to the darkness, there was no creature to be found. It was gone. Completely.

Some of the crowd emerged from their places of safety, staring up at the sky — then looking at Swift Arrow and marveling at his authority.

But the confrontation wasn’t completely over. Not yet.

Dark Bear raised his staff high into the air and shouted, “Swift Arrow, you must die! You and your friends, you all must die!” He spread his arms to the sky and called, “God of the lightning, god of thunder, I beseech you, show these people. Show them once and for all who has the power. Show them who has the authority!”

Suddenly, a great bolt of lightning flashed out of the darkness. It forked through the sky directly toward the gathering. Before anyone had a chance to run or duck, it struck. But it did not strike the crowd. Nor did it strike Swift Arrow and his friends. Instead, it forked sharply to the side and hit Dark Bear, knocking him to the ground.

Everyone stared in astonishment. The man was still breathing, but no one dared approach. No one but Swift Arrow. He started toward him, and as he knelt by Dark Bear’s side, Scott heard him speak clearly and with compassion. “The Lord will no longer allow you to use your power for evil, Dark Bear.”

Dark Bear opened his eyes but remained motionless.

Swift Arrow continued, “He has spared your life, but God has proven his power. Your strength has been broken, and now our people can see the truth.”

He gently reached down to the shaman, helping him sit up — and a most remarkable thing began to happen. Scott was the first to feel it. Something wet and cold on his arm. A drop. And then another . . . and another.

“It’s starting to rain!” he shouted.

Becka and Mom looked up. It was true. This time the thunder and lightning had finally brought the rain. And it came down faster and harder with each passing minute.

None of the villagers ran for cover this time. Instead, they tilted back their heads. Some opened their mouths. Others were shouting and starting to laugh. Scott laughed too, with relief. With gratitude. Dark Bear’s curse had been broken. Swift Arrow’s God had shown his power . . . and his compassion. Now the villagers knew the truth. It would be up to each of them to decide whether or not to follow it.

But at least they knew the truth.

It was still raining as the group packed to leave the following morning.

“Where is Dark Bear?” Scott asked as he adjusted his backpack and prepared to begin the descent into the valley.

“Dark Bear fled earlier this morning,” Swift Arrow explained. “The tribe will soon appoint his replacement.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion who that person will be.” Becka grinned.

Swift Arrow shrugged and smiled. “That will be up to the Lord. But this time the leader’s medicine and his words — ” he produced a small pocket Bible — “will be the truth.”

The group nodded in agreement. As they prepared to leave, they promised Swift Arrow that they would continue to pray for him and for his village. Hugs were given all around, and promises were made to stay in touch.

“Good-bye, my friends,” Swift Arrow said. There was no missing the emotion in his voice. “You
have taught me much.”

“And you, Swift Arrow,” Scott said. “You have taught us a lot too.”

And then, after another round of hugs, they were off.

“There’s just one other person I wanted to say good-bye to,” Ryan said as they made their way through the village.

“Who’s that?” Becka asked.

“Ryan! Ryan, wait up.”

The group turned to see Little Creek running to catch up with them.

“There you are.” Ryan grinned. “I was just saying I was sorry we missed you.”

Little Creek smiled and extended his hand. “Good-bye, my friends,” he said as he shook each hand. “Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye — ” he saved Ryan’s hand for last — “and good-bye. I have learned an interesting lesson from you, Ryan.”

“What’s that?”

“That the teacher should sometimes be the student. I was so anxious to teach you the ways of my tribe that I missed what you had to teach me.”

Ryan nodded. “I understand. But Swift Arrow can teach you those things now.”

“I believe he can,” Little Creek agreed.

Once again Little Creek insisted on shaking each hand as final good-byes were said. And then, at last, they were heading out of the village.

Thanks to the rain, the day was cooler, and the walk across the plateau proved to be refreshing and uneventful. Even the rope bridge was almost enjoyable.

When they finally arrived at the bottom of the range at their designated pick-up point, Oakie Doakey was there waiting for them in his Jeep, just as he had promised.

“Did you folks have an interesting time?” he asked.

“Interesting
isn’t the word!” Mom exclaimed.

“You got that right,” Ryan agreed. “I tell you, I sure learned some valuable lessons.”

“I think we all did,” Becka said softly.

Ryan gave her a hug. And, although he didn’t see it, she practically beamed in response.

“Hey, what’s this?” Scott asked as he climbed into the back.

“What’s what?” Mom asked.

“It’s a package with our names on it.”

“It arrived at my house the day before yesterday,” Oakie Doakey said. “I thought I’d bring it up with me. I was particularly intrigued by the return address.”

“Where’s it from?” Becka asked.

“It really doesn’t have an address, just a name.”

“A name?”

“Well, not even that,” Oakie said. “Just a single letter.”

Becka and Ryan exchanged looks.

“Kind of curious, really. But does the letter
Z
mean anything to anybody?”

The entire group traded glances with one another. There was no need to speak. Everyone knew exactly what the others had on their minds.

Oh, boy, here we go again . . .

The Wiccan

For the time will come when men will not put up with sound
doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather
around them a great number of teachers to say what their
itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from
the truth and turn aside to myths.

2 TIM
OTHY
4:3
–
4

1

B
ecka Williams paced the kitchen floor like a panther trapped in a cage. She gripped the cordless telephone against the side of her head until her ear throbbed. Her face, flushed with anger, burned as if exposed too long to the afternoon sun. She shook her head in disbelief.

“Julie, I thought we were going to a movie for your birthday,” Becka said. She plopped down on a chair. “I really don’t want to be around her; it’s pretty hard to forget what she did to me last year. Remember? That little episode with the knife? In the park? Can’t you see why I don’t want to hang out with her?”

Julie Mitchell, Becka’s best friend and co-captain of the track team, cut her off. “But, Becka, Laura really isn’t that bad.”

“Yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one thing, she admits that she followed Brooke too much.”

“You can say that again,” Becka said under her breath.

Brooke headed up The Society, a group of kids from school who were deep into the occult. They held séances in the back room of the Ascension Bookshop, a New Age bookstore. Becka and Scott had been the target of their wrath on more than one occasion. As their leader, Brooke had a personality about as commanding as a freight train. In a way, Becka knew Laura was just acting on orders from Brooke. Still, it wasn’t easy to just ignore that bit of history for the sake of Julie’s party.

Julie added, “And don’t forget what Susan Murdoch said about reaching out to her.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Becka conceded, ref lecting on what Susan, one of their youth pastors, had said. According to Susan, Laura was a good kid from a somewhat troubled home.

“Trust me,” Julie said. “It’ll be all right. She’ll be with us just for a little while at the bookstore.”

That was news to Becka. “You mean she’s not sleeping over at your house with the rest of us?”

“Nope. And, Becka, think about it — it’s a chance to meet Sarina Fox! Laura’s dad knows Sarina’s agent, and Laura said we can all meet Sarina after the book signing, where she’ll be signing copies of her new book.”

“Whatever.” Becka batted a strand of hair away from her face with the grace of swatting at a gnat. Becka didn’t spend a lot of time watching television. While meeting someone famous was cool, it wasn’t that much of a thrill. At least not to Becka.

“So,” Julie said, softening her tone, “what’s the deal? Are you coming to my birthday party tonight?”

Becka’s stomach churned as if she had eaten something off the bottom of her shoe. She wasn’t exactly in the mood to be around Laura Henderson. “I don’t know, Julie. I mean, I want to be there because it’s your party. Let’s just say it’s a definite maybe.”

Neither spoke for a long moment.

Becka checked her watch and then started pacing again.

“Look, I gotta run,” Julie said. “I hope you can make it. Let me know so we don’t wait up for you, okay?”

Becka hooked her thin, mousy brown hair over her right ear. “Sure thing. See ya.” She clicked off the phone and, with a whack, set it down on the kitchen table a little too forcefully.

“What was that about?” Becka’s mom asked as she walked into the kitchen.

Becka spun around. “Mom, sometimes Julie makes me so — ” she started to say, then froze. “Wow, Mom, what happened?” Becka couldn’t take her eyes off the woman staring back at her. She sure sounded like Becka’s mother, but that’s where the similarity ended.

Claire Williams crossed the room to Becka’s side. With a turn, she said, “So, do you like it?”

Becka blinked. “What happened
to your hair?” she blurted. As far back as she could remember, her mother’s hair had been getting more and more gray. Now it was a rich chestnut brown with auburn highlights.

Mrs. Williams’ eyes narrowed. “You don’t like it, do you?”

“I – I never said that . . . ,” Becka stammered. She sat down. “I mean, it looks . . . um . . . great. Really.”

“You think so?” Mrs. Williams said. A playful smile danced across her face. She sat down, placing her new purse on the table.

“Gee, like, you look so much younger,” Becka said, then thought that sounded rude. “What I mean — ”

Her mom waved her off. “I know exactly what you mean. Premature gray hair will do that. Guess you could say I was tired of looking like a grandma. I am, after all, only forty-one.”

Becka’s brother, Scott, breezed into the kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator. “Hey, Becka,” Scott said as he pulled open the fridge door. Even though he had just finished lunch, he rummaged around for something to eat. He frequently raided the refrigerator, perhaps in an effort to continue his growth spurt, having recently passed Becka in height. He fetched a Mountain Dew from the bottom shelf. As he twisted off the top, he asked, “So, who’s your friend?”

Becka laughed and then gave her mom, whose back was to Scott, a wink.

Before she could answer, Scott approached the table and said, “You guys see Mom around? I thought she’d be home by now.” He started to guzzle the soda.

Mrs. Williams looked at her son. “Hi, sweetie.”

Scott snorted a stream of soda bubbles through his nose. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Mom?”

Mrs. Williams primped her hair. “You like?”

“Somebody pinch me,” Scott said, smiling so wide it looked to Becka like he had pulled a muscle in his face. “Mom, you look . . . well, you look . . . unreal . . . as in great!”

She blushed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“What gives?” Scott said, touching her hair in disbelief.

“It’s the new me,” she said. “Dad may be in heaven now, but I’ve come to see that God’s got me
here
for a reason. I figured I had better start discovering what that special purpose is.”