Part 6: Over Hills and Far Away
"Could I have a glass of water?" Senaka Lincoln asked Maggie Pipp. She stood shakily from casting her singing spell over the tiny droplets of blood. Each droplet seemed to be vibrating in rhythm and Maggie wondered if it wasn't her imagination that she could hear the music they made.
"Were you successful?"
"I think so, but making magic always dries my mouth so."
Maggie fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. When she brought it to Senaka the darker woman had been joined by the heavyset Jonny, the androgynous Sailor and a withered old man with dark leather skin and a ring of pure white around the back of his head. He wore thick glasses and carried an ancient acoustic guitar.
"Ole-Man Rivers I'd like to introduce Margaret, "Maggie" Pipp, private detective and bedmate of Troy Green." Senaka said.
Ole-Man extended his hand and smiled broadly. He had a full mouth of yellow, but straight, real teeth. "Delighted to meet you Ms. Pipp. They call me Ole-Man, though I've no idea a'tal why. Ole-Man Rivers, and I must say it is a pure pleasure to meet someone so lovely as you, absolutely a pleasure."
"Thank you," Maggie took his rough and hard hand in a strong shake.
"Whelp, might as well get to hunting. Where we headed?"
"I've cast a spell on the blood, I suspect it will lead us to the hospital or aid station they took the Gun."
"Guns, eh?" Ole-Man adjusted his guitar on his chest and played a few notes. "What tune we using to hunt them?"
"I was thinking of 'Further On Up the Road.'"
"Johnny Cash or Robert Jordan?"
"Why do you even have to ask?" Jonny said.
"Cash's tune is a good one, full of pain and longing, traveling and meeting."
"No magic stronger than Robert Jordan's," Sailor said.
"True, but I didn't want to assume nothing."
"Did you know Robert Jordan?" Jonny asked with a smile.
"Stole this here guitar out his dead hands," Ole-Man quipped back and started strumming a blues progression.
Senaka touched Maggie's arm, "We're all going to cast a spell and travel by magic. Do you have any weapons?"
"Um, some pepper spray I guess. I'm not really that kind of detective. I'm more the computer intelligence gathering type."
"That's fine. Can you sing?"
Maggie's eyebrows did a bit of a dance as she struggled to decide how to answer, "Yes?"
"If you can harmonize and you know the tune then join in, but if you don't think you can, it's find you don't. We'll all sit in a circle around the drops and hold hands. No one will get lost."
They did exactly like Senaka described. Jonny helped Ole-Man to sit. They all crossed legs and took each other's hands except Senaka and Jonny on either side of Ole-Man each grabbed a belt loop so his hands would be free to play.
"Ready," Maggie said, but none seemed to be listening.
The song began.
Maggie was not that familiar with Robert Jordan. She knew that he was a famous Blues musician who was rumored to have sold his soul to the devil for musical talent. Maggie was only familiar with the Eric Clapton version of the song.
As Ole-Man played, Maggie wondered if he hadn't sold his soul as well, the music was every bit as good as Clapton and maybe even better. When it was time for the singing part though, it was Jonny that actually led the group.
"Further on up the road
Someone's gonna hurt you like you hurt me.
Further on up the road
Someone's gonna hurt you like you hurt me.
Further on up the road,
Baby, just you wait and see."
His voice was soulful, throaty, manly and lusty. On the second stanza Senaka joined in.
"You gotta reap just what you sow;
That old saying is true.
You gotta reap just what you sow;
That old saying is true.
Just like you mistreat someone,
Someone's gonna mistreat you."
The room started to vibrate. It flowed like a hot breeze rising from the delta, swirling around, through their hair, through their clothes, into their souls. It made Maggie feel lightheaded, but she bounced and swayed to the rhythm, just like the others.
Sailor joined in song, and Ole-Man hummed along, his guitar driving the tune, rippling through reality, opening eyes and minds and doorways.
"Further on up the road."
There was a road. They spun round in their circle, cross-legged by floating on the music rather than sitting on the floor, the road stretched before them, but they moved along it, bouncing and sliding.
The road seemed to lead right into a room. Their dirt country road spilled itself onto the wooden floor of a large bedroom. The circle of singers suddenly found themselves seated cross-legged on the floor.
The room was full of Brixies. Some were being bandaged, some bandaging, and others questioning the bandagees. The questioners were the first to spot them and they did not look happy.
Maggie's head was full and wavering, like she had just had a very strong drink. Senaka struggled to unfold her legs and stand up, cursing lightly under her breath. Sailor and surprisingly Jonny sprang to their feet, seemingly ready for a brawl.
None of the Brixies were lavishly dressed, but one seemed more put together, cooler and more powerful than the others. He turned slowly to look at the newly arrived, his arms folded.
Ole-Man had stopped strumming, but had made no attempt to rise. He hung his head and said, "Too close, far too close. Damn we're too good for our own good."
The Brixie leader gave a Shere Kahn smile, "So it would seem interlopers, so it would seem."
