When Brent got back to the campsite he saw Tara, backpack already on, helping Karen to adjust the straps on her pack. She looked up at him and her face went cold.

What? She hates me now?

Brent took the shower tarp, shower bag, and water containers over to where Eric and Terry were finishing with their packs.

Terry looked up at Brent and said, “Good. That’s the last of the gear. You sure you only took a five-minute shower?”

Brent knew he said it with a smile, but he couldn’t help getting defensive. “It was less than five minutes.”

Eric heard the uneasiness in Brent’s voice. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he said, looking over to Tara.

“Something going on between the two of you?” asked Eric, also looking over at Tara.

“No.”

“Brent,” responded Terry, “you’re using one-word answers.”

“What?”

Eric looked at Terry with a knowing smile. “When you clam up and don’t form actual sentences there’s something wrong.”

Brent sighed. I can’t just tell them what Tara did.

“Tara came back to the campsite,” said Terry, “…from your neck of the woods… looking a little peeved. Something’s definitely up.”

Brent looked over to see Tara, Marta, and Karen walking over to them. “Not now.”

Eric took the hint and diverted conversation. Panning around the group he asked, “Everyone ready?”

Four of the six nodded yes. Tara and Brent just looked at each other—Brent, with a question in his eyes and Tara, with daggers in hers.

“Great! Terry, check one last time to make sure that the fire pit is cool, will ya?”

Terry did and then they were off.

It was already in the mid-to-upper 70s as they started along the path. Brent suspected that both temperatures and tempers could be hot today.

THEY HAD BEEN hiking for about an hour and a quarter. Eric and Terry were in the lead; Tara, Karen, and Marta followed, and Brent took up the rear. It was mostly a quiet walk; just snippets of chatter among them. They had been advancing upward along the path when Marta saw movement below the ridge to their left.

She gasped and froze.

What Marta saw made no sense. Her brain tried to steer to a rational conclusion, but instead took an off ramp to panic.

BRENT WATCHED MARTA tense up and stop. He looked down to where she was staring and his eyes went wide. How had none of the others noticed it? He called out a hushed “Hey!” to the rest of the group. Everyone stopped and turned to look at him. He pointed downward off the ridge.

About 30 feet from their location stood the most massive pig any of them had ever seen. It must have just wandered out into the open, as it appeared that it had not, as of yet, seen them.

Tara got excited. “A wild boar!” she exclaimed a little too loudly.

The boar startled and looked up at them. It was a male; it’s tusks way too apparent. Terry and Eric immediately drew machetes from their packs.

What I would give for a hunting rifle just about now, thought Brent.

The ridge wasn’t steep enough to keep it at bay. The animal certainly had free passage up the slope.

The boar’s stiff, black hair pointed upward from its back. The thing had to be at least 300 pounds. The slight rise to the ridge and its own massive weight would be the thing’s only resistance should it decide to charge.

“Marta,” Brent began to whisper, “I want you to slowly, carefully ease your way toward Terry and Eric.”

Marta gave a nervous nod that Brent didn’t see and started stepping toward the other guys. The boar grunted as it perceived the movement and directed its attention toward her. After a moment, though, the beast redirected its stare to Brent, who was apparently the larger threat.

Male versus male.

Brent reached back to feel for his machete.

Terry quietly told the girls to slowly—very slowly—move past Eric and him. As they began to do so, the boar again glanced their way, but only for a moment. It re-fixed its eyes on Brent.

God, I could really use your help here, Brent prayed. His right hand finally found the grip of his machete and he began to draw it out.

The girls were now past Terry and Eric. Eric told them to keep moving along the path. With the girls safely away, Terry and Eric slowly released the buckles on their packs and lowered them to the ground. Eyes were now fastened on the dangerous scene ahead of them. They didn’t see the move Tara was beginning to make.

Tara slowly reached into the right thigh pocket of her cargo pants and took out a camera. She lifted it to her eye and snapped a picture of the massive swine, the flash of which caught the animal’s attention and agitated it even further.

Eric turned around immediately and glared at her. With a hiss in his voice he told her to move!

The boar appeared to shiver and tense, looking back and forth between the two men and the one. Its eyes settled again on Brent and the beast began to paw the ground with its right hoof.

Oh God! This thing’s going to charge!

The boar grunted loudly. Then, letting out a horrendous squeal, it charged.

Brent ripped the machete out if its sheath and brought it before him. As he did, another startling sound pushed through the air.

Terry let out a terrible scream and started running down the pathway toward Brent, angling toward the ridge and the beast. Eric followed suit with his own yell, both of them with their machetes bared for an encounter.

The boar stiffened and dug its front hooves into the dark, damp peat, skidding to a halt. It appeared unsure of what to do about the new threat. It stood and grunted and squealed loudly again as Terry and Eric made it to Brent’s side.

Eric whispered, “We should get out of here.”

All three of them began a backward march up the path. The boar’s irritation was growing again and they could tell that it meant to make another run at them. Every step backward seemed to take forever. Brent’s pulse was throbbing in his neck and fingers. Adrenaline coursed through his system. He breathed hard.

Slowly they continued backward toward the three women. Terry and Eric reached their backpacks, and the three of them paused just long enough to grab the packs and sling them up to their right shoulders. Continuing their backward trek, they finally made it to a curve in the path where the trees formed a precarious natural barrier between them and the boar. There was a rising sense that they were now safe, but none of the three wanted to turn around quite yet.

Marta was beside herself with fear. She half screamed, “Come on! Come on!”

The guys backed another dozen steps and finally began to relax. With a quick look at one another they took off running toward the girls. Running was probably not the best way to express what they were capable of doing with the weight of the packs on their backs, but it was getting them where they wanted to be; as far away from that animal as fast as possible.

The girls didn’t wait for the guys to reach them before they, too, turned tail and ran.

“WHAT WERE YOU thinking?” yelled Karen. “Really? You had to take a picture?!”

Tara stared at Karen, unable to reply.

Marta’s turn. “That was stupid. You nearly got them killed!”

Tara turned wide-eyed toward the guys. “I… I didn’t know the flash was on.”

The men, one by one, dropped their packs to the ground.

“Okay, stop,” said Eric. “Relax. Let’s all just relax.”

“But…” Marta began.

Brent cut her off. “Eric’s right. Let’s just stop. Ladies, drop your packs.”

They did so.

“Everybody gather ‘round,” said Brent. And as they did he spread his arms wide and said, “Group hug.”

Terry chuckled, as did Eric, more probably from a need to release tension than from the humor of the suggestion. The girls approached and they all put their arms around each other’s shoulders and waists. Terry bowed his head and the girls responded in kind. Brent and Eric did the same. With their heads touching they just held each other for a long minute.

When they finally looked up and released each other, Brent could see tears in the eyes of all three of the women.

Eric sat on the ground and leaned back on his hands, extending his feet outward. Everyone else followed his lead and planted themselves as well.

“Well, now,” Brent ventured, “That’s something you don’t experience every day!”

The comment produced a much-needed laugh. The tension began to leak out of them.

Eric turned to Tara. “Did you get a good shot?”

At first Tara didn’t know if she should really answer the question.

“Well?” Terry prompted.

“I uhh… I think I did, actually,” she said.

“Good,” said Brent. “Cause no one’s going to believe this story without it.”

They all laughed again.

“You guys were great back there!” said Karen.

Tara agreed. “You know that the three of you are heroes now, don’t you?”

Brent looked to Tara who, in turn, looked him straight in the eyes. There was a look of wonder and appreciation where earlier there had only been contempt.

Terry rolled his eyes. “We were terrified, not courageous.”

Marta retorted, “What do you think courage is? Absence of fear? Nuh-uh. It’s doing the right thing in spite of fear.” She looked to Tara and smiled. “Tara’s right. You three qualify as heroes.”

After a silent moment, Eric deflected the praise by asking, “Did anyone else back there pray?”

Four other hands went up, Tara abstaining.

“You really think God had something to do with us getting away?” inquired Tara sarcastically.

“Why not?” asked Karen.

“Well, it seems obvious to me that it was three men with machetes facing a single animal, albeit a big one. That animal recognized the odds.”

Brent responded, “All the more reason to believe that God intervened.”

Tara produced a questioning look, not believing that there could be any logic in his statement.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a wild boar. Now, just to make it clear, my family was in Florida in a nature preserve at the time, but those boars were still free-range animals. They could have been a cause for alarm if they hadn’t been on the other side of a small marsh area. That’s where we learned from a ranger about how unpredictable these animals are. The bigger the threat that they perceive, the more dangerous they tend to become. They aren’t your everyday turn-their-tails-and-run types. By all accounts…” Brent thumbed backward toward the path behind him. “… that animal shouldn’t have stopped its charge. It should have come at us with reckless abandon. But it didn’t.”

The group chewed on his words for a moment.

“God, we thank you,” started Eric. “Thank You for saving us, for protecting us. You are a good God, and we take this time to let you know that we acknowledge that. Amen.”

“Amen,” came the group reply … save one.

After a moment, Terry asked, “Is this the end of our backpacking adventure?”

“What?”

“Why?”

“Shouldn’t we report this to the rangers? We can’t let others stumble upon that thing,” continued Terry.

Brent’s head dropped. He sighed. “He’s right. We’ve got to tell someone.”

Eric said, “If we do, it’s going to take quite a while to get back to the trailhead to report this, and before we can even start heading back we’ve got to find the next forest road that intersects this trail. I’m guessing it would have to lead back to the park office. That is, of course, unless everyone wants to go back the way we came.”

Karen interjected with a sigh, “And I doubt that after hiking all the way back to the office we’ll want to come all the way back out here to resume where we left off.”

Brent could see that everyone seemed dejected. It appeared that their four-day trip was coming to a sudden day-and-a-half end.

9:45 A.M.

IT DIDN’T TAKE too long to come across Forest Road 2. They made a right turn off the backpacking trail onto the dirt and gravel road. It might have been able to accommodate two passing vehicles, but it would be a tight fit. It was full of ruts and not exactly conducive to a leisurely walk.

After a half hour on the road they agreed that much of the backpacking trail they had hiked was much easier to trek than this stretch of cumbersome road. They still had quite a way to go to get back to the office—if, indeed, the road was taking them there—and the heat of the day was making it nearly unbearable. There wasn’t anywhere near the amount of shade that they had enjoyed on the trail. The bota bags were being tipped back and drained into mouths more frequently.

Ahead of them the sound of a vehicle coming up the road caused everyone to stop and watch as it approached. It turned out to be a ranger vehicle, a Jeep Cherokee with a light bar on top. The group moved to the right of the approaching ranger and flagged him down to a stop.

The ranger, a man, probably in his mid-forties held his radio’s mic to his mouth as he looked out the window at the group. “Dispatch show me 85 on Forest Road 2, approximately one mile West of McBride and Forest Road 13.”

“10-4. Showing you 85.”

“10-12.”

The ranger stepped out of the Jeep, his badge and leather utility belt shining in the sunlight. He looked impressive in his starched beige shirt and sharply-creased green pants. His dark-complected face displayed a look of professionalism and confidence as he placed his forest-green ‘Smokey the Bear’ hat on his head. He was a tall man with an impressive build.

He spoke. “I’m Ranger Nathan Swope. Is everything okay here?”

“Yes, sir,” Eric replied. “Well, at least it is now.”

“What can I help you with?”

“We had an encounter with a wild boar several miles back. You found us making our way back to the park office to report it.”

“Everyone’s okay?” The ranger scanned the faces of everyone in the group.

“Yes, sir,” said Brent. “It’s not something we want to do again, but we came out of it all right.”

Ranger Swope opened one of his shirt pockets and pulled out a small note pad and pen. “Tell me about the boar.”

“It was massive,” responded Marta. Tara and Karen nodded in agreement.

Brent nodded his affirmation. “It was probably about five-feet long, and, I don’t know … over three-hundred pounds?”

“That’s a pretty remarkable description. You sure it was that big?”

This time the men of the group all nodded.

“I’m pretty sure it was a male. The tusks had to be around five-inches long.”

“Where did the encounter take place? What were the circumstances?”

Brent pointed back to where they had entered Forest Road 2. “If you turn left off the road onto the trail there’s a ridge that slopes down to the…” He thought for a moment. “… down to the right if you’re headed away from here.”

“I know the place.”

Brent continued. “It was apparently rooting when we came across it. We startled it. While it focused on me we got the girls out of harm’s way, then it charged me. My two best friends…” Brent smiled at Terry and Eric. “… had pulled their machetes and started running down the path toward me, yelling at the thing. I pulled my machete out, as well. The boar came to a stop and stared at us as we backed our way out of its territory. That’s when we realized that our backpacking trip had just come to an end.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t doubt your story. It’s rare, though, to have a wild boar sighting here. Its size though …”

“I got a picture,” Tara said abruptly.

Ranger Swope looked at her. “Pardon me?”

“I took a picture of it.”

“Miss, if you’ve got a picture, then we need to see what we’re dealing with.”

Tara drew the camera out of her thigh pocket. Walking over to the ranger she extended her arm to hand it to him. “Here you go.”

Ranger Swope accepted the camera and then said to the group, “Bear with me for a moment.” He stepped back to the cab of his Jeep, opened the door and sat inside. Taking the radio he said, “Base, we have a 10-11 about one mile North of NF-2 on the South loop. The report is a wild boar. Male. Five feet long. 300 pounds. Five-inch tusks. The animal has shown aggressive behavior. No injuries reported. 10-78 to incident area.”

“10-4, Unit Three. 10-11 One mile North of NF-2. Wild boar sighting. 10-78.”

Ranger Swope exited the vehicle once again and stepped up to Tara. “Ma’am, if I have your permission to develop the photograph on this camera I will provide you with a claim receipt for the developed film. If you have any other photographs on the film you’ll need to let me know now as to whether you want them developed as well. Otherwise we’ll only develop the last image on the film. However, that would ruin the other shots.”

“If you’d develop all of the pictures, I’d appreciate it. There’s nothing on the film that can’t be viewed by everybody.”

After writing Tara a claim receipt he rewound the film and removed it. After handing her the camera he said, “You can pick the pictures up at the park office when you get back there with the receipt. Thank you for the picture. It’ll help us with our search.”

Tara smiled at the officer as she took her camera back.

“As for this being the end of your backpacking trip… Folks, the chance of you having a second encounter with another boar is so slim as to be considered nearly impossible. Have a good remainder of your trip out here. Just head back down the road and hang a right back onto the trail. Oh, and by the way, you would have had a heck of a time finding the office using this road. I’m glad I happened across you when I did.”

The group voiced their appreciation and said goodbye as the ranger reentered his vehicle. After starting the engine he looked at them one last time and said, “Men, good job protecting the ladies and each other. Well done.”

With those affirming words, Brent felt like he could take on the world. Looking at Terry and Eric he could tell they felt the same way.

Brent looked at his fellow trailblazers and asked, “Do we go on?”

Marta looked at Brent for a moment then to everyone else and said, “Let’s do it.”

That was apparently all that was needed to get the lot of them back in gear. They still had nearly three days of adventure ahead of them.

3:36 P.M.

THE RING OF the phone startled Stephanie as she sat reading the latest in her string of Stephen King novels. Setting the book aside she got up from her couch and walked to the living-room telephone.

“Hello?”

“Aileen, it’s Brendan. I’ve just received a call from Cowan.”

“From Scotland?”

“Yes. He and his sister are still there.”

David McNeill—aka Cowan Cormack—and his twin sister, Donna, were on a trip to explore and sightsee throughout the British Isles. David was using this trip to test the waters with his sister to find out if she could be lured into their numbers through the subtle means of “discovering” their family lineage.

Three months prior David had called Brendan to announce that his sister was overjoyed at the suggestion of taking the trip and fingering through historical records to discover their family roots. Of course, David already knew where to look and he knew what they would find.

The question was whether she would be properly romantic-cized by family legends and historical proofs that they came from royal Picti blood. Would she, like her brother, have the courage to venture beyond the facts of who the family once was to pursue who the family could be again? Stephanie figured she was about to find out the answer.

“And…?”

“I’m told that it doesn’t look good. As much as she’s loving the history and how ‘tickled’ she was at discovering her Picti past, she’s not showing the least bit of interest in being a part of something greater than her current, rather pathetic, station in life.”

Stephanie was perturbed by the news. “And that’s it? She knows who she really is, a Picti princess, and wants nothing more. That is pathetic.”

“Indeed. However, there is some potential good news on that front. In the midst of the search, Cowan discovered in the same town in which they skimmed through their family records, another family who is also linked to us through blood. If this is true, and if he can make headway with one or more of them, then we may have another long-desired link to the old country. It’s too early to tell, obviously, but to have someone who can do further research for us in our native land…”

“Priceless,” intoned Stephanie.

“Priceless. Cowan and his sister will be in the town for another couple of days to ‘take in the sights, sounds, and the people.’ He believes that the interaction that he will have with this family will appear pretty natural.”

“With a true link back to the old country, will that mean a move for us?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, my dear Aileen. Even if we have a couple—or a few—added to our numbers from the areas around Pictland, we’ve got several more here in the States. The wealth and support that we need is here, as well. Remember, though, it’s not all about our little coven here in Pittston, Ohio. It’s about the bigger picture. We’ll just have to see how things play out.”

There was silence on the phone for the space of about ten seconds and Stephanie was about to ask if Brendan was still there when he inquired, “Are you not going to ask of me another question, Aileen?”

Stephanie thought for a moment, coming up blank. Then it hit her. “The stone!” she exclaimed. “What of the stone? Is it the one at Tarbat?” Her heart began to beat rapidly.

Silence.

“Say it, Brendan! Out with it!”

Brendan laughed and obliged her. “Yes, my dear Aileen! The Key Stone is found! At least parts of it.”

Stephanie’s excitement began to wane as quickly as it had spiked. “Parts of it?”

“One piece was exactly where we were told, in the old Pictish village of Portmahomack on the Tarbat Peninsula. It is in the Tarbat Old Parish Church, set in a wall of the crypt, carelessly used as a piece of masonry. But it is there. Cowan asked of the rest of the stone, and the caretaker of the church took him to go look at another, similar stone, also used in a wall that circles a garden at the church manse—house. Cowan says it looks to be of the same piece of stone as the one in the crypt.”

“But the markings, they are supposed to be on both sides of the stone.”

“That, my dear, is the problem. Getting those stones pulled from those walls will be next to impossible.”

“How many other pieces?”

“Cowan said he didn’t know. He asked of the villagers the whereabouts of other pieces and no one knows a thing. But Cowan said that that the piece in the crypt is obviously a top section, while the one in the garden wall is from the bottom. But, there are probably five or six more pieces to be found. Unfortunately, Cowan doesn’t have time to return to Tarbat to do more searching. He’s got to bring his sister back to the States.”

Stephanie sighed, maybe a bit too loudly.

“Dear Aileen, fear not. We know where the whole stone was, we know where two pieces are, and most importantly, we already know the location of the Key of Bridei that fits into the Key Stone. Once the remaining pieces of the stone are found—and they will be found—we will have our path of discovery before us. Be excited, my lovely priestess. The Redeeming Age is nearer than we thought only yesterday.”

Stephanie’s mood lightened. “You’re right, Brendan. Thank you for the call. Things seem to be progressing just as you had said.”

“Never doubt me, Aileen.”

“Never.”

“Come to the farmhouse tonight. I’m calling upon the others, as well. We will ask the spirits to advance the work that Cowan has started.”

“I will be there, my priest.”