Yes, the nature of his awakening was perfectly clear to him afterward—the visions and voices, the story of his birth and parentage, and the arduous nature of the journey that lay ahead. He even understood for the first time what it was that had happened between Cheney and himself when the dying animal’s wounds had mysteriously healed in his presence. As the gypsy morph, as a creature of magical origins, he apparently possessed some innate ability to heal. Although why that ability had never manifested itself before still confused him.
But what wasn’t made clear to him, what he didn’t understand, was what he was expected of him. He was trapped in this cell with only a few hours of life left. Logan Tom had told him on leaving that he would be back for him, that he would not let him die. But Hawk wasn’t sure about this. Logan Tom did not seem strong enough to break down walls and gates of concrete and steel. He did not seem powerful enough to take on the entire population of the compound.
He was one man, and however well intentioned or determined he might be, however formidable his skills, it did not seem possible that he could do what was needed.
Yet Hawk’s future was there in the visions, and it did not end with his death at the bottom of the compound walls. For that future to happen, he would have to break free of his prison.
Was he meant to do this on his own?
He tried to make sense of it, to determine if there was something that he could do, but he couldn’t think of anything. If he had magic at his disposal, he didn’t know how to use it. He kept coming back to the image of his mother speaking those three small words—trust in me. For reasons he couldn’t explain, they formed a powerful web of faith that was wholly lacking in any concrete source of support but that refused to let him be. How was his mother supposed to help him? How was he, in turn, supposed to help Tessa?
There were no answers. He slipped the finger bones into his pocket and lay back, weary from all he had experienced. Maybe, he thought, Logan Tom would come for him as he had said he would. Maybe he just needed to have the faith his mother’s words suggested.
But he was powerless within this dark room, behind these compound walls and in the hands of people who hated and feared him. He didn’t feel like anything special, whatever his supposed origins. He was just someone who had tried to find a home and a family to belong to.
What more was he supposed to be?
Trust in me, he heard his mother whisper one last time.
Then he fell asleep.
*
LOGAN TOM STOOD with Panther in the deep shadows just inside the building doorway that fronted Pioneer Square. The others were upstairs completing their preparations for leaving. When informed of her plans, Logan had agreed with Owl; whatever happened, it was time for them to get out of there. She had told him about the giant centipede, a creature he had never even heard of, let alone encountered. Too many strange things were coming into the world, and Logan knew what that meant. If there was to be any civilization in the future, any human presence, it was time to start thinking about how they would make it happen.
“This is what you are going to do,” he told Panther. “After we get in sight of the compound, you will walk up to the front gates and start yelling for them to let Hawk out. Stay well back when you do. Don’t do anything to suggest you are carrying a weapon. If they even think you have a weapon, they will shoot you. All you have to do is yell at them for about five minutes or so. Got it?”
Panther nodded. “What’s the point?”
“While you’re yelling at them, they’ll be looking at you. That will let me get through the rubble to the underground tunnel Tessa used to meet Hawk. That’s how I’m going to get into the compound.”
The boy shook his head. “That door gonna be locked. Plus, they might see you anyway.”
“Let me worry about that. All you need to do is keep their attention for those five minutes. Then get out of there. Don’t stand around waiting for something to happen. If you see them start to come out or do anything that even looks like they might be coming out, you run for it.” He paused. “No wild stuff.
No heroics.”
The boy grinned. “So where do I run to?”
“Back to the edge of the square so that I can find you again when I’m done.”
He reached down to button the heavy jacket he was wearing and turned up the collar. The day was growing chilly. He crooked the black staff in his arm as he straightened his clothing. Panther glanced at the staff, then at him. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Where’s your weapons? You ain’t going in there with no weapons, are you?”
Logan almost smiled. Once, he would have carried a Tyson Flechette, a brace of Arrow Stunners, and a K-Bar Classic. He would have worn body armor and a helmet with night vision built into the visor. But that was a long time ago, before he became a Knight of the Word.
He took the staff out of the crook of his arm. “This is all I need.
Let’s go.”