As it turned out, we didn't need to walk far.  Running Fox had his truck parked around on the far side of the old overpass, where we hadn't been able to see it from where we'd been standing.  So, as we set off toward the truck, Burnett and Running Fox filled us in on what had happened at the school.

Burnett explained, "Once I got a lock on the location of Nicodemus's bogus school, I tipped the authorities to its fraudulent nature.  That alone would've been enough to get the authorities to move in and shut the place down, but just operating on that alone would've taken time.  It probably would've come down to a court battle, and court battles have a way of dragging on for years.  Been there, done that; don't want to go back there and do it again.  Nicodemus would've disappeared into the ether long before it ever actually got to the courtroom.  Imagine the authorities trying to find someone who can look like anyone or anything he wants to."

Running Fox chuckled sourly and added, "Imagine the authorities trying to capture someone who can disappear into thin air at will."

Burnett laughed sourly.  "Not interested in that, either.  Since there wasn't time enough for the legal mills to grind their way through this, I dropped a few bugs into official ears about a possible major infection site at the school.  The students have been dying off like flies because Nicodemus has been draining them of their life and energy and the physical symptoms of what he does to them are enough like the symptoms of several deadly diseases for me to fake up a medical report indicating that the school was a possible source of a deadly disease organism.  Even if no one ever finds any signs of any such disease organism, I won't be in any trouble.  The evidence will back up my hypothesis well enough to keep me out of hot water with the medical board.  I just dropped the report into a few official ears, and bureaucratic paranoia took over from there.  In combination with the alleged fraudulent nature of the school, it was enough to panic the local authorities into moving on the school immediately.  I just arranged to be "accidentally" driving through and stopping to visit an old friend in the area, and I discreetly made sure the local authorities got wind of it.  It wasn't hard to get them to ask me to ride along as a medical expert during the raid on the school."

He chuckled drily and nodded toward Running Fox.  "As it turns out, Greg, here, lives less than fifty miles away."

I remembered how close Running Fox's pasture had felt to the school in the lucid dream.  That explained the impression of him being so close by.

We came around the far side of the overpass about that time and found ourselves facing a beat-up old blue Ford pickup truck.  Running Fox waved a hand at it and announced, "She does not look like much, but she is strong, and faithful.  She will get us where we are going with no trouble."

They climbed into the cab.  Wish and I settled into the back, on top of a thick pile of gunny sacks.  Running Fox slid open the cab's rear window so that we could talk while we were traveling, and fired up the engine.

The truck ran with surprising quiet and power, so he had no trouble getting it back onto the old abandoned roadway, and we were able to talk further without having to yell ourselves hoarse:  "I bought farmland down here ten years ago.  I meant to retire, and never go spook hunting again.  It has nearly gotten me killed more than once.  I am old and tired...I deserve a little peace at my life's end."

He glanced back at me; I could see humor in his eyes.  "I was out in the pasture, milking Clara one morning and I felt someone watching me.  I did not see anyone at first.  I opened my third eye and looked around again, and that is when I saw you.  I knew what you were; I have seen astral projections in conjunction with dreaming before.  I just did not know who you were.  I could tell that you were a Person of Power---a shaman, a wizard...and a servant of the Light.  I have met only one other person in this lifetime who possesses the kind of power you have."

I raised an eyebrow.  "Who might that be?"

He glanced around again and looked at Wish.  "Her father.  Until I met you, he was the most powerful person I have known in this time."

Wish cocked her head at him curiously.  "'Was'?"

He glanced back at me again and nodded.  His eyes were dead serious.  "Past tense.  If your husband had the training your father has, his light would outshine the Professor's by far.  The Professor tells me the two of you met physically---even shook hands.  Considering what I can See of you, it is amazing sparks did not jump between your hands when they touched."

My chuckle was dry.  "It almost did.  The only difference between what I felt and electricity was that this kind of tingle didn't hurt."

The crash site came into view down the road.  He slowed down a bit to give us more talking time.  "It was not until I contacted the Professor about the astral traveler I encountered in my pasture that I understood who you were.  Once I knew what was going on, and who was involved, I had to join the battle.  Until you came on the scene, what we could foresee of the battle to come promised disaster for us all, and for me first and foremost.  I had warned the Professor that I was too weakened by age to be able to tip the balance of the conflict in our favor, and that adding my remaining strength to the matter would likely result in disaster for everyone.  He had already given me leave to remain outside the conflict, with honor...and I would have done so if you had not appeared."

He chuckled.  "With your strength on our side, even what failing strength I have to my name may be enough to help turn the tide in our favor.  Old, tired firehorses have a reputation of kicking up their heels and going when they hear a fire bell.  I guess I am not that much different."

Burnett took up the tale again: "He hooked up with me just before the raid on the school, and trailed along behind the police on the way out.  It wasn't until we reached the school and I looked back that I realized he was no longer with us.  I had no idea why; I just went ahead with helping getting the school shut down and getting those girls out of there, and hoped whatever he was doing was somehow helpful to the situation."

Running Fox pulled the truck up beside one of the police cars and shut the motor off.  "I was; as we approached the school, I detected an anomaly in the psychic ambient--Star Wars fans would probably call it a "disturbance in the Force".  It was something big, and powerful, and dangerous and moving away from the school.  It set off alarm bells in my mind.  I decided to investigate, and turned off onto a side road that led in the same direction the disturbance was traveling in.  I came up behind your tour bus just in time to see it swerve suddenly, tip over, and crash...and I saw why it crashed.  A man was standing in the road in front of the bus---a dark man, in dark clothing...with a huge, black aura so thick that I almost could not see through it."

We all nodded.  I murmured, "Castevet.  Our driver saw him appear directly in front of the bus.  That's why he swerved."

Running Fox nodded back.  "I thought as much.  And as the bus was swerving, and beginning to tip over, I saw him turn and look back in the direction of the school; it was a look that could kill, if directed at a living person.  And I mean, kill literally.  And I felt something at the school change---almost as if a gigantic rubber band made of black light, and under tremendous tension, had just snapped.  Castevet's aura shrank to less than half its original size at that instant, and became less dense---easier to see through.  He abandoned his physical form and jumped directly into the crashing bus."

He climbed down out of the truck and closed the door briskly.  "I pulled over, meaning to offer help to whomever was inside the bus, but as I got out I saw a young man bolt from it---and he was surrounded by an aura as thick and black as the one that had surrounded Nicodemus before he had abandoned his physical form.  In fact, it was the same aura; the young man had been taken over, and he was being taken somewhere against his will.  I realized that following him was more important than offering my limited medical skills to the people on the bus.  In any case, I could Feel the presence of the person who had visited me out there in my pasture, inside the bus somewhere.  I reasoned that he would be more help to his companions than I could, and followed the captured man, to see where Nicodemus was taking him.  I was surprised to see a second young man pursue him from the bus.  He seemed normal enough, by comparison, so I worried less about him.  When I saw where Nicodemus had taken his captive, and I realized what the cave under the overpass was, I hurried back to inform Samuel, and we returned here, to find you all outside the cave."

He spread his hands, as if bringing things to a close, murmured, "And you know the rest."---and turned toward the people approaching us.

The police and everyone in the band but Nathan came to greet us, relieved that we were all right.  Poor Nathan;  he hung back from us, staring at Wish bug-eyed, pale and completely spooked.  He kept looking away from her, toward something else that I couldn't see, then glancing back at her.  And every time I looked at her again, he went a little paler.  I found myself thinking, Wish's suggestion must still be in effect.  He's probably seeing two of her.  Poor guy; this is probably going to leave him rattled for weeks.

I leaned over to her and murmured, "Uh, sweetie, if that suggestion of yours is still active, maybe you should shut it off before Nathan blows a fuse, or a gasket, or something."

She winced, as if chastising herself for forgetting the point, and set her jaw.  I felt something change, although I couldn't have said what it was to save my own life, and Nathan gulped and jumped violently.  He was looking at where Wish's "other self" was standing, and the illusion must have vanished right in front of his eyes.  He turned around and gave Wish an even more spooked look, and did everything but run and hide behind the tree.

Poor guy, I thought.  First he walks what he thinks is Wish back to the crash site, and gets told by everyone there that he's by himself,  even though he can see Wish as plain as day next to him, then another Wish shows up in the company of all the people who've already spooked him in the first place.  No wonder he looks like he's just seen a ghost!

Burnett and Running Fox offered to provide the extra transportation we needed, since the other police car promised to us for the purpose hadn't arrived yet.  We all piled in and set out for Abime.

The police left us at the dinner: a grimy little greasy spoon named Millie's, and went on to other, more important matters, like trying to track down the headmaster of that bogus girl's school who'd disappeared so mysteriously.  They were baffled by his disappearance.  His secretary had told them he'd just gone into his private office a few minutes before they'd arrived, and he hadn't come out since.  But when they'd burst into his office to arrest him the place had been empty, and they hadn't been able to find any other way out of it.

I glanced at Wish and commented, "Oh, yeah!  Lots of luck in finding him, guys!"

She smiled back and responded, "Even if we told them where he is, they wouldn't believe a word of it.  It's up to us, darling."

Our road manager, Ed, went to the diner's pay phone to see to getting us some transportation into New Orleans.  If the equipment truck and roadies had gotten through, and they were currently getting things set up, we still might be able to make the performance...at least, so it was hoped.  From there, Ed and the rest of the band retreated to a booth in the back of the diner and left Wish and me with Burnett and Running Fox at a booth up front.

After we'd given the waitress our orders and she cruised on to take care of other matters, Running Fox turned to me and asked, "Rain, are you sure you want to do this?"

I glanced around at Wish.  She looked worried for me, but she also looked determined not to interfere.  I squeezed her hand and murmured, "You know I'll be careful, sweetie.  Everyone has to face their demons sooner or later, and it looks like now is the time for me to face mine.  I'm the cause of all this chaos."

Her mouth dropped open.  She looked part horrified and part outraged.  And when she spoke, her tone was polished steel: "No, you are not to believe that!  Darling, Dad's been fighting Nicodemus for centuries!  The only person responsible for the harm being done here is Nicodemus!  He's the one who does the damage, who starts the trouble, and who sets off all the pain and suffering!  If you didn't have the potential for such power, he never would have bothered with you at all, and you'd probably be living a comfortably mundane life with Ill Noise, right now.  He would have located some other person of power to try to turn to his cause, and he'd be making a whole different group of people miserable right now...probably people who'd have no idea what was going on, and who'd have no chance of even defending themselves, much less of defeating him!  You believing that all this is your fault is as nonsensical as a kidnapping victim believing the kidnapper when he tells her the whole kidnapping was all her fault because she was stupid enough to be born into a rich family!"

I gulped at that.  She made sense, of course.  It's the nature of evil to twist things around in an effort to make its victims think the whole problem was their own fault to begin with.

But what stuck most in my mind was how long she said her father had been doing battle with Castevet.  I gulped, "'Centuries'?  You mean, the Professor's that old?"

She giggled and shook her head.  "Dad?  Oh, no!  He's only in his fifties---this time around.  But Dad's defeated him so many times in so many past lives that Nicodemus has a vendetta going against him.  Every time Dad reincarnates, Nicodemus tracks him down and does everything he can to destroy him.  You and Tommy and I were there the last time Nicodemus got the upper hand on Dad.  We all managed to find one another this lifetime around, and now we all get the dubious honor of locking horns with this particular devil one more time.  Otherwise, Dad just might have been forced to take him on alone, and that would be disastrous.  Even with our combined numbers and strength, we can only hope to merely defeat him.  It's probably too much to hope that we'll be able to defeat him soundly enough to keep him out of circulation for a really long time."

My stomach sank.  My heart sank down right on top of it.  "Unh!  What a prospect!  One lifetime after another, butting heads with Godzilla!  How's anyone supposed to get any rest?"

Darkly, Running Fox observed, "There is an old saying that there is no rest for the wicked.  Unfortunately, as it happens, there is usually no rest for the good people who do battle with the wicked, either."

The waitress showed up about then with the first of our orders.  As she dealt things out around the table like a hand of cards, I gave Running Fox a dry grimace and muttered, "Thank you!  You have no idea how that cherks up my day!"

That got odd looks from everyone, including the waitress.  She shrugged to herself, made a it's-not-my-business face and went off to get more food and drink.  Burnett, on the other hand, was a bit more verbal about it.  He favored me with a blank look and asked, "'Cherks up'?"

I chuckled and explained, "Dad suffered from a kind of minor circuit flaw in the speech center of the brain.  It's known as 'Spoonerism'.  It causes its victims to mix words - or parts of words - together by accident, every once in a while, and something totally off-the-wall usually comes out.  For instance, the man the condition was originally named for once referred to his niece and nephew, Kate and Sidney, as 'Steak and Kidney'.  With Dad, it was a little like living with Norm Crosby---just without the deliberate comic intent.  One day he tried to say 'cheer up' and 'perk up' all at the same time, and what came out was 'cherk up'.  We all liked it so much that the whole family adopted it.  We've been using it ever since."

Burnett bit a chunk out of his BLT and chewed thoughtfully.  "'Cherk up', huh?  I like that..."

He took another bite out of his sandwich and added, "God, I'm starved!  Look, Rain---Greg and I are going to have to project with you;  strength in numbers, and all that.  Since you're new to this we'll have to guide you, at first---but I have a feeling you'll pick up on it real quick.  What Greg's told me about his encounter with you indicates that you're a really quick study---and a natural, on top of that."

Wish asked, "What about me?"

Her tone fell far short of a whine, but it was clear from both the sound and her expression that she was more than merely anxious about being separated from me in any way, just then.

Running Fox shook his head soberly.  "Shaun's warning against you going into the cave---or into the Vortex---has to be based on sound reasons.  After all, he is your Guardian, and what impressions of him I retain from Channeling him indicate him to be a level-headed individual.  It is unlikely that he would warn you away from the Vortex if it was not likely to be fatal for you to go in there in any form.  Besides---we will need someone here, in the physical world, to watch over our bodies while we are away, keep outsiders from interfering and disturbing us at some critical moment---and to rouse us if we show signs of not being able to get back on our own."

Burnett nodded agreement.  "If someone jolts one of us out of trance at a critical moment, that person will disappear from the astral plane, and the Vortex.  And anyone left behind will probably be at a deadly disadvantage because of our reduced numbers and strength."

Running Fox nodded sober agreement.  "With good fortune, the entire matter will take no more than an hour.  And for good measure, I will instruct you in exactly what I am going to do with your husband, and how to bring us back safely if we get lost, or become too weakened or too badly injured to return on our own."

Wish just plain looked worried...but she set her jaw determinedly and said, "Okay---but be clear about it.  I don't want to make any potentially fatal mistakes.  I know that physical death isn't the end of human existence, but I want to be around long enough to enjoy being back with Rain again for at least a few more decades."

Running Fox nodded sober agreement and then turned to face me.  "Very well.  To begin, you need to be more aware of your power and how to use it.  The more practiced and aware a person is with his power in the physical world, the more readily and effectively he functions when doing battle in the astral world.  Why this is, I do not know; it just seems to be a law of nature.  You do not have time to learn everything you need to know, now, in the usual way.  The only way for you to gain the awareness and the experience you need to survive the battle we face is for you to return to a previous lifetime in which you were a powerful and well-developed Psi.  When you become consciously aware of your identity and life in that time, you should also become aware of all the learning in the arcane arts that your past-life self had acquired by that point in time.  And, ideally, this should also be a lifetime in which you have done battle with the demon that we now know as Nicodemus Castevet.  What you knew of his ways in that lifetime just may save your life in this one.  According to what the Professor has told me, that would be the lifetime that you already know of---the one in which you were Alex, and Wish was Bridget."

He turned to Wish.  "Does this meet with your approval?"

Wish looked as though she were about to burst into tears.  But she fought them back, and in a voice that surprised me with its steadiness, responded, "I just don't want Rain - or anyone else, for that matter - to get hurt!  I wish Tommy were here to help!"

Burnett shook his head sadly.  "He's just not up to that right now.  Nicodemus has drained him far too much."

He shook his head grimly and added, "Once we've dealt with Nicodemus, I'm going to need to examine him thoroughly.  There's no telling what kind of physical damage he's sustained at that monster's hands."

My stomach lurched and sank again.  I gulped, "Oboy!"...and ran out of wind before I could get any farther.

I took a deep breath and tried again: "You say that so matter-of-factly...as if it's a foregone conclusion."

He shook his head unhappily.  "I only wish a foregone conclusion in our favor were possible---but it's not.  There's no way to foresee the results of such conflicts.  Even the most gifted of Precognitives can't foretell the outcome of one, because they almost always take place outside the realms where these perceptions function properly.  We always go into these conflicts blind.  As in almost any other endeavor in normal life by normal folk, all we can ever do is take the enemy on and hope for the best.  Even if we win, it won't be possible to destroy him.  The very nature of the universe won't allow that.  Good can't exist without evil any more than light can exist without dark.  All of existence is comprised of opposites in a precarious state of balance.  The balance tips one way or the other, from time to time, and all we can do is struggle to ensure that if the scales do tip in favor Darkness, they never tip so far as to allow Chaos to reign.  Existence is always a struggle to rebalance the scales, and - if we're lucky - tip them in the favor of the Light, at least for a time."

Running Fox nodded sadly.  "It is an age-old battle.  But even if there is no way for us to destroy Nicodemus Castevet, we can hope to send him packing---preferably for a long, long time.  Our one advantage lies in that Nicodemus Castevet is not the Great Old One, merely one of his minions.  His lesser stature means he has less power and strength to use against us.  It gives us at least a fighting chance against him."

Burnett nudged Running Fox with an elbow and murmured, "Take it easy!  You'll scare the poor kid half to death!"

Running Fox grimaces, in self-disgust.  "I am sorry if I sound callous, Rain.  It is just that I have been doing this all my life."

Burnett corrected, "You mean 'all my lives'."

Running Fox chuckled dourly and prompted, "Come on---finish up your bacon-burger-cholesterol special, and let us get to work."

Burnett looked up from the next-to-last bite of his sandwich, and with great dignity, pointed out, "It's a BLT; no burger anywhere in it."

Running Fox chuckled, "Okay, then finish up your bacon-cholesterol-nitrosamine special and let us get on with this.  Assuming we survive this fiasco, I have a life of my own to get back to when it is over with."

He eyed Wish's half-full glass of iced tea pointedly and added, "Come on, Mrs. Sanders---drink up!  We need to get your husband to the Land of Nod!"

My wife tossed him a Girl Scout salute, piped, "Yessir!!" and downed the last of her tea: She was trying to put a brave face on things, but she wasn't fooling anyone; she was worried sick.

After we finished up our meal, I went back to the others and told them that Wish and I were going back to the crash site to look for any possessions that might have been thrown from the bus, and to look for Tommy and Razor.  Ed protested that going off with strangers to do that sort of thing was even dumber than going off by ourselves.  After all, that sort of thing was a job for the police.

To my surprise, Nathan stopped him and growled, "Let 'em do what they want.  I don't know what they're up to, and I don't wanna know.  Just hope they find Tommy and Razor in one piece each, so we can make our gig in New Orleans tonight."

It was as simple as that.  The last thing I'd expected was support from Nathan, even if it wasn't exactly friendly support...

Running Fox drove us back out to the crash site.  With the tow trucks and the police - and the rubberneckers that invariably seem to gather at an accident site, no matter how isolated the place might be - all gone, now, this was the one place where we were least likely to be bothered while we were doing battle with Castevet.  Even the cows were gone.  The farmer had been notified of the damage to his fence, and he'd come in and herded them all to a pasture with undamaged fencing to keep the animals from wandering away and either getting rustled or run down by passing motorists.

Running Fox settled Wish onto the grass, cross-legged, and had me lie down on my back with my head in her lap.  Then he placed Wish's fingertips to my temples and settled cross-legged on the ground on my left, close enough to allow him to touch my head without straining.  Burnett settled to the ground in the same fashion on my right side, and we began.

First, we all recited a White Light Induction: a fairly standard metaphysical protective tactic.  It consists primarily of using a fairly standardized set of phrases to guide yourself - or others - in visualizing one's body and mind being bathed in---and completely saturated with---a pure white light.  As long as this is done before any psychic endeavor, it's supposed to protect the person in question from harm by negative forces.  I can't swear it's infallible, but in the years I've used them I've yet to see it fail worth mentioning.  I had my shield pendant on, of course, and it probably would have provided me with all the protection I needed, but I wasn't taking any chances.  We were going up against a demon, and we needed all the protection we could muster.  I just wished there was some way to take the pendant with me into the astral plane, but it's virtually impossible to take physical objects across the boundary between realms.  We were pretty much stuck with native talent.

Then Running Fox placed his right hand over my third-eye position and began chanting in a language I wasn't familiar with.  I peered around at Burnett, taking care not to move my head in the process, and murmured, "What language is that?"

Burnett made shushing motions, but murmured back, "Cheyenne; it's his native tongue."