The Next Sorcerer by Joy Brighton

Author:Joy Brighton [Brighton, Joy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sorcerer; The Magician; Native American; paranormal; Saber tooth Cat Petroglyph; Cat Necklace; Camp Verde; Jerome; Sedona; Cottonwood; Central Ariz
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2021-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Sunday afternoon

“Park the jeep behind the gas station.” I pointed to the highway off-ramp and braced for Forrest’s quick reaction.

She floored the gas pedal and swung the steering wheel to the right, dodging the oncoming traffic.

Somehow I’d survived the drive down the mountain. I closed my eyes a few times, but Forrest hadn’t killed us. I smiled up into the intense blue of the sky and gave thanks.

It was a risk, a big risk, but letting her drive was the only way we’d have time to check out the mines. There were things I still needed to explain, and my hideout was the perfect place to finally tell Forrest the truth, ghost and all.

Glad to be on solid ground, I jumped out of the jeep and grabbed my pack from the rear seat. “Now we walk.”

“How far?” she asked, matching my pace.

“Couple miles.”

“Tilley can four-wheel. Why not drive all the way?”

“Better chance we won’t be seen. Your jeep is a little…”

“Obvious?” she finished my sentence. She shrugged and hiked in silence beside me. The dirt road was silent.

The sun felt warm against my shoulders, but the summer heat had left the desert. Fall was my favorite time of year. Migrating birds were returning, and soon the desert would green with winter rains.

After walking down the road a few miles with no one passing us, I finally relaxed. “Cutting over this rise will save us some time.” I held up the top line of a rusty barbed wire fence. Forrest climbed between the sharp strands.

We set off cross-country. The saguaros guarding the high ground gave way to spear-tipped agave.

“Watch the cholla.” I took her hand and led her around the prickly jumping cactus.

The trail, no more than a deer track, wound down into a wide arroyo. We crossed the crunchy dirt of the dry river bed and climbed the far side. Few cacti grew this close to the mine.

“Stay here,” I said, and she nodded without comment.

I climbed the rest of the way up the hill and peeked over the ridge between an outcropping of boulders. My shoulders relaxed. My breath came easier. The mines were deserted.

I waved to Forrest, and she climbed the embankment. We slid down the salt-encrusted gravel to the abandoned mines below.

She glanced around the rocky outcropping. “What is this place?”

“It’s an ancient salt mine. My ancestors dug and traded salt.”

“Like, in the last century?”

With a grunt, I pulled away the timbers and checked my marker. “Like eight hundred or maybe a thousand years ago.”

She leaned down to peek into the dark cavern, and her eyes widened.

I searched in my pack and handed her a headlamp, then strapped another one on my forehead.

She licked her lips and frowned. “We’re going in there?” She squeaked out the last word.

“Do it all the time.”

“I don’t like dark places.” She backed up a step and handed me the light. Her face had gone very pale. “How ’bout I play lookout?”

I took her hand. “It’s safe. I’ve shored up the cave-ins.

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