Streamfield Shifters: Hide & Seek

Chapter Four

I sat in front of the TV, hugging my knees to my chest as the evening news reporter broadcast live from sidewalk across from the elementary school. Within minutes of Dad's and Rachael's discovery, we were quickly hustled out of the area without so much as a "thank you" for our time. It didn't bother me as much as it bothered Rachael, who grumbled about it the whole way home.

I had my suspicions as to why we had been made to leave. Two giant wolves had indicated that the trail ended in the woods—what else could that mean, but a possible body beneath the ground?

My father was uncharacteristically quiet as he drove; the radio remained silent. As I looked at his face out of the corner of my eye, I wondered if he was thinking: what if that had been me or Richard? I didn't possess those feelings; I was a sister, cousin, daughter, granddaughter and friend, but not a mother. No, I had no idea what was going on in my father's head.

After we got home, Rachael trooped to her side of the compound without complaint and Dad went down to the assembly building. I didn't follow either of them; instead, I went inside the house and watched TV.

There was no way that little Jimmy had been buried between those two rocks, could there? I chewed my lower lip and flipped through the channels aimlessly. Years ago, I had the unfortunate experience of finding the desiccated carcass of a mouse behind my bookshelf. But that didn't mean I could discern between a deceased rodent and a human.

As a shapeshifter, I did enjoy certain biological perks such as heightened senses and strength (in both forms), but like anything in life, those abilities didn't mean shit if you didn't work on honing them. There was a reason why the police had specially-trained cadaver dogs. God help them if the authorities tried to bring them in tonight.

When Dad returned a little while later, Mom in tow, there was more color in his face. The tight spot in my chest, one that I hadn't realized was there, eased when I saw that he was feeling better. Dad gave me a nod and took up his normal spot on the couch. While Mom cooked dinner, we watched the news.

Although the police weren't giving out too many details, the reporter explained, they had captured footage of a large backhoe loader being trucked into the school parking lot.

"Did ... did you smell anything?" I ventured as the news played a clip of the backhoe arriving earlier in the day.

Slowly, Dad shook his head. "No." He shifted on the couch. "Can't say I would be able to recognize it if I came upon it, either. That ... smell ... just overpowered everything else."

A question formed in my mind. I knew that it was ridiculous, but we lived in a world of witches, sorcerers and shapeshifters. "You don't think he was abducted by aliens, do you?"

Dad gave a short, barking laugh. "No, I don't think that's the case, Aly." But I caught a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

The news report switched from live coverage to the weather. Scratching idly at the back of my head, I leaned against the couch.

A knock at the door caused me to pop my head up. My brother entered the house, kicked off his shoes, and joined us in the living room.

"Hey," I greeted as he flopped into one of the chairs next to the couch.

"Hey, yourself."

"What brings you over?" Dad asked.

"John called," Richard said, reaching out to prod me with one toe. I slapped at his foot and scooted out of his reach. My brother grinned, then quickly sobered. "He said that they haven't found anything yet."

"So that means the boy is still alive?" Mom came into the living room, wiping her hands on a towel. "Oh, thank God."

"It looks that way." Richard shifted. "Oh, John wanted me to ask you if you guys noticed anything strange about some rocks?" He raised his eyebrows quizzically. "I've no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean."

Dad shrugged. "I didn't notice any rocks."

But I had. "You didn't see those silvery rocks, Dad? You and Rachael were sitting right next to them."

"Really? Must've been too focused on the trail to pay any attention."

Mom leaned over the couch, the towel dangling from her hands. "What about rocks, Richie?"

"John was pretty vague when Laura asked him to explain. Maybe he wanted to know if there was any scent on them?"

"Can't say I did. The trail just ended there—right between them," Dad told my brother, frowning slightly.

Slowly, I sat up, the threads of a theory unknotting in my mind. "What if ..." I paused. God, this was going to sound just as ludicrous as an alien abduction. "What if ... it's a portal?"

"A portal? That's stretching things, Aly," Richard exclaimed in disbelief. "Not even a level-ten can create a permanent portal." Witches and sorcerers were graded on a scale from one to ten, with ten being the most powerful.

I glared at him. "How is it a stretch?" I retorted. "Strange scents that just vanish. Now Detective Merrickson calls up his sister and asks her if we noticed anything weird about some rocks?"

My brother remained silent. Even as a child, he'd been the more serious of us two. It had been a pain to get him to participate in anything involving make-believe. Whatever it was, it made him a brilliant engineer—but a crappy playmate.

Mom and Dad exchanged curious glances. "And what about those elf sightings?" I argued, unfolding my legs and sitting up straight.

There were a dozen or so legends of how shapeshifters came to be. One such myth involved elves; another, the invoking of totemic spirits back in the Stone Age. As a kid, I preferred the former—probably due to the fact that it was the one my Catholic mother chose to tell.

The short of it was that long ago, the elves ruled over ancient humans. Some even interbred with their subjects and the resulting offspring either became witches or shapeshifters. But some time around the Dark Ages, the elves vanished, taking the high magic with them. The hows and whys of they left depended on the storyteller. As my mother liked to tell it, humanity overthrew their elven masters and banished them to another plane of existence. But my best friend Garnet's father had a different take: instead of being banished, the elves simply died out.

But if sightings over the last couple of decades were to be believed, the elves didn't die out. Either they were very good at hiding or they used portals. How else did Santa Claus manage to deliver presents to kids on Christmas if not for elven magic?

"That would explain the strange scent," Dad said slowly. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes with two fingers, as if the very thought was difficult to contemplate.

Richard made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. I ignored my disbelieving brother.

"Anyway," Mom said, pushing up from the couch. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"If I could. Laura took Cyb with her to parents' house to give some moral support to her brother. They probably won't be back until eight."

Mom nodded and turned back to the kitchen. Silence once again descended on the living room, with the exception of the TV. That was fine by me. I still believed I had the right of it.

But how to prove it? That was the question.