Runes of Redemption

Chapter 1 Big Bend region Early summer Clay Chiles huffed along, scrambling up the steep slope. Loose rock littered the terrain, ready to roll from under his incautious feet. Ahead he saw Aron, his partner and teammate, striding upward as easily as if he were on level ground. Damn him! Blasted elf can still outlast me. I’ve been working out like a fiend, even learning as much of the Elven ways as I can, but I’ll never reach his level. He stopped for a couple of seconds, gasping in deep breaths. After a dozen or so, the ruddy haze darkening his vision faded and his heartbeat slowed a notch or two. He dragged a rumpled bandana out of his pocket and mopped his face. The humidity must be starting to climb as the summer monsoon season approached. Hell of a time to be tramping around in the high desert of west Texas. About ten yards above him, Aron halted and looked back. “You okay, Clay? Shout out if I go too fast. There’re times my pace is too much, even for Haldane and the rest of my band. I’ve been roaming alone a long time, too closely focused on my own endurance, which I know is unusual.” Now Clay had enough breath to talk. “It’s okay. We need to make all the speed we can. If there’s a gate somewhere up here, the sooner we find it, the better. I’ll be all right in a minute. Just spent too much desk time the last couple of years. I’ve gotten soft. Back when I was a patrol officer, this kind of stuff was easier.” Aron chuckled. “I doubt many of your human team members could keep up with either of us, so don’t beat yourself up. I’ll slow the pace. It wouldn’t do much good to discover the gate and be too worn out to attempt the closing spells.” During the past several months, a plethora of nasty strangers, real other-world aliens, had been showing up in the southwest sector of the United States. They were causing major problems for the border patrol, especially the Paranormal Operations Unit or POU, which Clay had headed since its inception, now over two years ago. When the elves’ old enemies, the Trogues, had begun to appear a few months earlier, Aron had arrived from Middle Earth, where his Elven kin held sway. He’d come to help humanity in a struggle they seemed perilously close to losing, bringing his band of handpicked Elven warriors with him. Fortunately, several had been close when some Trogues took Clay prisoner, recognizing him as the leader of the opposition. Aron had directed the tricky rescue effort. About the same time, Aron convinced Clay his long lost father really was an elf. That made the two of them very distant kin. Once the president and the Secretary of Homeland Security finally recognized the serious nature of the situation, they’d dispatched military units to the Big Bend area to round up and do away with the Trogues before they spread too far. The military operation freed most of the POU and their elf allies to search for the space-time gates allowing alien entry and manage the mission of sealing them. Aron thought he had a fix on the nearest one, where the Trogues had entered, so after driving as close as they could, he and Clay began hiking to the rugged site. Few knew what such a gate might look like or even if it would be visible. The most effective manner of sealing one was an even greater mystery, although Aron carried Elven lore related to such efforts from the distant past. So much of this entire struggle consisted of learning by doing. Evil aliens might seem a natural part of the paranormal border patrol’s mission, but this new breed had powers and strengths no one had come across before. Most of the conflicts now involved new and previously unmet situations. About all they could do was try to build on each new experience and work by trial and error, implementing what they learned with each encounter. Clay edged up a few more steps until he reached Aron’s side. The elf laid an arm across his shoulders. “I’m not trying to show you up, anam cara. We aren’t in competition here. Sometimes I’m less aware than I should be of others, though. I’ve been so long alone it isn’t easy to match myself to a partner.” He exhaled a slow breath, then tightened his hold into a half-hug. Speaking in an earnest tone, he went on. “Stop me; give me orders. This is still your operation. I’m not taking the ultimate leadership from you. Anyway, you’re my spirit-shared mate. When you feel the need, remind me I’m not alone, but part of a new unit—us.” “Yep,” Clay replied. “It’s a time of learning for me as well, made harder by the other challenges we face.” He exhaled a long breath. They shared a few seconds in close contact, letting thoughts and feelings flow freely through the touch of body and mind. Clay felt his brief flare of irritation release and ebb away. All Aron said was true. They were partners, not competitors. They needed to learn to work smoothly as a team. If that meant Clay had to slow Aron down at times, he’d do so. Their bond was still new and not yet completely solidified. In time, they’d both be at ease with it. Sharing danger and difficulty would help the cement set faster, but meanwhile they should be attentive to one another’s every need, desire and state of mind. Clay slid his arm around Aron’s waist and squeezed. “True, we’re building the unit of us. The progress can’t always go without a catch or bump, can it? Especially when there’s so much pressure, such need to do many difficult things quickly. We share a heavy burden here, one of duty and leadership, but believe me when I say I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have at my side or standing back to back with me in this fight.” Aron brushed a kiss against Clay’s temple. “I would say the same. From the first, I knew we belonged together, were destined to be partners, mates, lovers and the closest kind of friends. We’ve both been solitary much of our lives—it’s a huge change to be so close to another suddenly.” After a brief silence, they began to climb again, Aron pacing his gait to match Clay’s so they almost moved as one. In about fifteen minutes, they reached the crest of this particular ridge and paused to take stock of the terrain. Rugged was almost too mild a term for the jagged canyon-cut region, littered with sharp, broken rocks, and spiked with cactus waiting to pierce the unwary passer-by. Still higher, Santiago Peak, the region’s tallest, loomed above them. From its top, one could see a good chunk of New Mexico, West Texas and well into Mexico also. However, the peak and its view were not their goal for now. Aron scanned the area in slow, steady sweeps. “Now if I was a secret gate to other dimensions, where would I be?” His murmur reached Clay as much through telepathy as sound. “It’ll be hiding in plain sight,” Clay responded. “In fact, aren’t we’re close to the spot you sensed now? I think we need to take care not to stumble into it.” Aron turned to shoot him a keen glance. “You think?” Clay grinned. “Yep, a kind of off the wall hunch just hit me.” After a moment, Aron returned the grin and nodded. “I think you might be onto something. I’d say we look for cliffs, man-high or a bit more with cracks and perhaps caves—but the gate itself may well look like solid rock.” “Just subtly different. Maybe if you squint at it sideways not quite solid, not quite stable…” Aron nodded. “You’re catching on fast. It’s your Elven blood.” Clay had almost stopped bristling at the notion his long lost sire really was an elf. The kinship felt more real and right all the time. Still, he had to banter back. “No, I’m just absorbing elf-ness from you by osmosis.” When Aron socked him on the shoulder, it was not hard enough to hurt, more a rough caress. “Hardheaded Texan fool! You know what’s true, even if you insist on denying it.” They both spotted the area at the same time, two sets of gray eyes snapping around to study a rocky outcrop about a quarter of a mile away, across a small branch canyon and slightly higher than the spot where they stood. Weathered ivory-tan cliffs stood, and though eroded by wind and time, still held solid, as if they were a dike against the crumbling descent of the higher terrain. Both men’s attention zeroed in on a patch of rock, a subtle shade different in color, with texture not quite matching on either side. “What do you want to bet you can walk right through that spot, not into the mountain, but into somewhere far away?” Suiting action to words, Aron strode off. “Let’s go see.”