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The sky was darkening when the two men returned to the fire-circle for the meeting of the Tribal Elders. Blair was nervous - understandably, in Jim's opinion. After all, he would not only be appearing as a witness against Hettinger, but also would be facing the Elders for his part in the failed expedition.
Incacha stepped into the middle of the circle and bowed his head to an old man sitting in the midst of the Elders.
"That's Takatu," Jim murmured in Blair's ear. "He's the chief Elder, and he's the one you have to impress. The others are his son, son-in-law, and a couple Elders from friendly neighboring tribes."
"Yeah." Blair licked his lips nervously. "And how would you suggest that I do that?"
"Just be yourself, Chief." He paused, then grinned. "Except a little briefer. You ramble on like you usually do, and he'll probably kill you just to shut you up."
Blair glared at him. "Thanks a lot, pal."
"Don't mention it."
"Step forward, Yachacheq," Incacha said, turning towards them.
Jim was relieved to hear the shaman using Blair's Chopec name - it was a clear reminder to the tribe that Blair was one of them now, and also an indication that Incacha was on his side. Blair stood up nervously and stepped into the circle, relieved when Jim followed him and stood behind his shoulder to translate for him.
Takatu studied the young man in silence for a long moment, then said, "Imana sutiyki?"
Jim leaned forward and murmured, "He wants to know your real name, Chief."
Blair nodded, having recognized that phrase from his guide-books, and cleared his throat. "Sutiymi Blair Sandburg, wiraqocha."
Takatu raised his eyebrows. "Runasimita rimankichu?"
"Pisichallatan, wiraqocha," Blair said, only indicating with his fingers that he only spoke a little bit.
"Paypa noqa rimani," Jim said, resting his hand on Blair's shoulder. "I speak for him."
"Ari," Jim said, nodding.
"It is good that you have a Guide," Takatu said, smiling widely. "Too long has Enqueri guarded our borders alone."
Blair looked up at Jim inquiringly, not understanding most of the words that the two had exchanged except "ari" and "Enqueri", which he had figured must be Jim's Chopec name. "Jim?" he asked anxiously.
Jim squeezed his shoulder. "It's all right, Chief. Just getting our roles straight."
"Imana hamuyki?" Takatu asked Blair, and Blair looked up at Jim.
"He wants to know why you came here - the short version, Chief," Jim added with a grin.
Blair resisted the urge to kick the other man in the shins, deciding it wouldn't help his case if he attacked one of their warriors, and began speaking with paused to allow Jim to translate his words. "I'm an anthropologist - I study people and their cultures? My former advisor - " He paused and looked at Jim, wondering if that would translate, and Jim just nodded for him to continue, "was asked to survey this particular area to see if it had anything of cultural significance before a contract for drilling oil could be given. Only some idiot messed up the coordinates for the site, and we spent two months digging in the wrong place. The government realized we were on sacred native ground and pulled our papers, but it was too late to go check out the right site. We were just packing up when Garrett Kincaid and his pals," Blair pointed towards Hettinger, "arrived."
Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder, and the anthropologist took that as a cue to stop. He did, waiting anxiously while Takatu and the other Elders conferred. Takatu made a gesture towards Hettinger, and Jim murmured, "He wants you to tell him what happened next. You up to it, Chief?"
Blair drew in a deep breath and nodded. He'd been trying not to think about the whole thing, feeling too close to the tragedy to process it rationally. Now it looked like he didn't have any choice.
Taking another deep breath, he described what had happened in the clearing, how Kincaid's men had killed Professor Buckner and the natives helping them, how they had tied up Blair and the three women, and then about Kincaid leaving. "And that's when Jim arrived," Blair said, looking up at the older man with gratitude and something else that Jim couldn't quite identify.
"Enqueri?" Takatu asked, and Jim knew that the Elder was asking for his report of the events. Grateful that Blair wouldn't be able to understand most of what he was saying, Jim told the Elders what they had found in the village, how everyone - man, woman and child -had been slaughtered and the village burned down around them. He told them about the clearing, the bodies of the foreigner and the natives lying where they had been killed, Blair and the two girls tied up to be used later.
Takatu drew himself up, aghast. "They dared to touch your Guide?"
Jim gave him a feral grin, his teeth bared and eyes dark with a primal heat that made more than one member of the Tribe shiver. "They will not make that mistake again."
Blair hadn't understood much of Jim's exchange with the Elder but it was clear from the stone-like mask that had descended over the older man's face that he was talking about the village. He shivered, deciding that he really didn't want to know the details, although that wild look on Jim's face at the end had intrigued him and stirred something inside him. Now he realized that the moment of judgment was at hand and he tried to ignore the sudden weakness of his knees.
Takatu conferred with the other Elders quietly for a moment and Jim took advantage of this to lean forward and murmur in Blair's ear, "Breathe, Chief." Blair tried, calling on every calming mantra he knew, but his heart was still racing as Takatu turned back to him.
"It is certain that the trespass on our Sacred Lands was not deliberate, and that it was not the fault of Yachacheq," he said, then smiled widely. "He is welcome to remain among the People, as Guide to Enqueri and teacher of our young ones."
Blair looked inquiringly at Jim, and he smiled back, teasing him, "Slap on the wrist, Chief. Time served plus probation as a teacher. Think you can handle it?"
Blair smiled widely. "Yeah, I'm down with that, man."
"Good." He gestured for Blair to take his seat again and settled at his side, relieved that everything had gone so well. And to have publicly acknowledged Blair as his Guide was good, too, although not welcome by everyone as the glares from Lita testified. He ignored her and turned his attention back to the center of the circle as Hettinger was dragged in front of the Elders.
"What's going to happen with him?" Blair asked Jim quietly.
"That's what they're going to discuss now," Jim replied softly, watching the Elders talking among themselves, then Takatu looked out over the Tribe and spoke a single sentence. Silence fell, and Blair shifted uneasily.
"Jim?"
"They've asked if there is anyone who will speak up for Hettinger before sentencing."
"And if no one does?" Blair asked. Jim didn't answer - the look on his face spoke for him, and Blair swallowed hard. He looked around at the others, but no one seemed to be stepping forward.
Hesitating only a minute, he stood up. "Paypa noqa rimani."
"Blair, sit down," Jim hissed. "You don't know what you are doing."
He looked down at Jim and said seriously, "Yes, I do. Would you translate for me again?"
Jim sighed but stood up. "Yachacheq speaks for this man," he said to the Elders.
Takatu frowned. "This man killed your friends, would have killed you. And yet you speak for him?"
Blair waited for Jim's translation and nodded. "Yes. I know that what he did was wrong, evil, but I was raised to value life, all life - even his. To view all life as sacred. If we kill him, then aren't we just as bad as he is?"
"You would have him go unpunished?"
"No," Blair said, shaking his head. "He should be punished, but not by us. That's what the law is for."
"We are the law," Takatu said, standing up. Even at his advanced age, there was something regal and imposing about him. "Your heart does you credit, Yachacheq. But this man has raised his hand against those who did him no harm, against women and children, and against the Guide. For that alone the Gods will turn their backs on him."
Blair gave Jim a puzzled look as the older man translated, not quite understanding that guide reference. Jim squeezed his shoulder. "Give it up, Chief," he said softly.
Blair swallowed hard. "Then they're gonna - "
Jim nodded. Blair's mouth tightened and he turned away from the circle, heading back towards the hut. Jim started to follow him but Blair held up his hand.
"Don't. I - I need to be alone for a little bit."
Jim's hand dropped to his side and he helplessly watched as the younger man hobbled off. He felt a familiar hand grip his shoulder and Incacha said quietly, "Let him go, Sentinalme. Some things he must work out for himself."
"He is hurting, Incacha."
Incacha nodded. "But sometimes we must hurt in order to heal."
Jim sighed and sat back down reluctantly, his senses focused on the hut behind him, and wished he could take on all the younger man's pain. But all he could do was be there when - if - Blair needed him.
The hut was dark when Jim entered but he didn't need any light to see that Blair was already settled in his hammock, an arm flung across his eyes. He cautiously focused his sense of smell and was relieved when he didn't sense that Blair had been crying. He'd much rather face the other man's anger than his tears.
"Is he dead?"
The voice came out of the dark, painfully tight. Jim drew in a deep breath; at least Blair was speaking to him.
"No. The sentence will be carried out in three days. They're waiting for the elders from another tribe to arrive."
"I see."
"Chief - " he began, hearing the pleading tone in his voice.
Blair rolled over in the hammock, his back to the older man. "Go to sleep, Jim," Blair said, tiredly.
Jim nodded and climbed up the ladder to his pallet, stripping off his shirt and shoes before laying down. He listened for a long time to the other man's attempts to get settled more comfortably, his heart aching as he longed to bring Blair up into his bed and hold him close until he fell asleep.
Soon, he thought to himself in an attempt to soothe the ache. Soon.
With that mantra echoing in his head, he fell asleep.
It was still dark when he awoke, coming fully alert between one moment and the next. His heart was racing, his senses instantly searching for the Danger. A moment later, he heard a low moaning noise, the sound that had awakened him. Blair.
He hurried down the ladder and bent over the hammock, his eyes searching the younger man's face in the dark. Blair's eyes were still shut so it was obviously a nightmare, not physical pain, that troubled him.
"Sandburg," he said softly, gripping Blair's wrist gently. "Wake up."
He was surprised when Blair shoved him, so startled that the blow knocked him on his ass. Blair was now thrashing wildly and Jim was worried that he would tumble out of the hammock and hurt himself. Cautiously, he approached the nightmare-ridden man and tried again, this time without doing anything that could be interpreted as
threatening.
"Chief. It's okay - you're safe. Wake up, buddy."
Blair stopped thrashing, seeming to hear him now, and Jim moved a little closer. "Come on, Blair. Open those eyes."
He gently stroked Blair's hair, then his cheek, and after a few minutes, Blair blinked his eyes open. "J-Jim?"
Jim smiled at him reassuringly, even though he knew Blair couldn't see much in the dark. "Hey, Chief. Mind holding it down - it's after hours."
Blair laughed weakly. "You and your damned rules."
As Jim took a step back, intending to go back to bed, Blair felt a surge of panic and sat up. He reached out to grasp Jim's wrist. "No! Don't go!"
Jim could hear the younger man's heart hammering in his chest and he moved closer. "It's okay, Blair. I'm not going anywhere."
"Good." Blair didn't seem inclined to surrender his wrist, and Jim cautiously sat down beside him in the wide hammock. Blair turned slightly so that he could bury his face against his friend's chest, relishing the strong arms wrapped around him.
"Want to tell me what the dream was about, Chief?" Jim asked softly.
Blair shuddered. "I was remembering - you know. Only - only you didn't come-"
Jim rubbed his cheek against the soft hair. "I'll always come, Chief. You don't ever have to doubt that."
"Really, Jim?" Blair's voice sounded both young and incredulous, like he couldn't believe anyone would do that for him.
"Really, Blair."
He rubbed his hands up and down Blair's back, relishing the feel of that sturdy body in his arms. He wanted to kiss Blair's hair and then move down to taste his mouth, but didn't want to jeopardize the tentative connection between them, so he contented himself with just holding the younger man.
After a few minutes, he realized that Blair had fallen asleep again. Jim tried to ease the younger man down onto the hammock but Blair muttered something in his sleep and clutched at Jim's arms. Carefully, Jim eased himself down on the hammock next to Blair. The other man snuggled closer to him and sighed contentedly, and Jim knew that he was smiling himself. He snagged the blanket with one hand and pulled it over them and, with the sound and scent and feel of his guide in his arms, he fell into a deep sleep.
In the morning, Jim remembered why he hated sleeping in hammocks. Extracting himself from the damned thing was like trying to escape from an octopus, and it didn't help that his sleeping bed-partner was trying to become one with his body heat.
He managed to get out without overturning the hammock or waking Blair, something he considered a worthy accomplishment, and paused only long enough to pull on his boots before staggering outside to relieve himself. A quick wash in the rain-barrel further awakened him and made him realize that he was hungry.
Chatya was presiding over the kettle when he made his way to the fire-pit, and she grinned at him when he took his bowl back for seconds of the hot corn cereal.
"Worked up an appetite, Enqueri?" she asked with a ribald chuckle and he had to fight to keep from flushing. "But where is Yachacheq this morning?"
"Still sleeping," Jim murmured, then realized how that sounded and couldn't stop the blush this time.
Chatya laughed again and patted his cheek affectionately. "Ah, I remember when my man and I were young and newly in love. He couldn't keep his hands off me."
"Still can't from what we see," Kisafi, the woman slicing up fresh fruits, retorted, and Chatya laughed as she ran a hand over her ripening belly.
Jim hastily finished his breakfast before the two women could start grilling him over his supposed sexual romp with his guide, and had to endure more teasing as he got a bowl of cereal and a platter of fruit to take back to Blair.
Blair was still sleeping when he entered the hut, and he quietly set the food down on the table before crossing to stand beside the hammock. The younger man looked even more desirable asleep with his abundant hair spread out around him, and Jim had to fight his desire to touch those soft curls. There was a hint of shadow under Blair's eyes and that reminded Jim of the previous night's bad dreams. It also made him recall something that he had inexplicably forgotten during the past two days.
Somewhere out there in the jungle was a ruthless killer. A man who had shown no qualms about killing whoever stood in his way. A man who would have good reason to worry that one Blair Sandburg might inform the authorities of his location.
There was no reason to think that Kincaid would be able to locate the Chopec village, but the fact that Jim had forgotten the danger and had failed to set sentries troubled him deeply. He would have to rectify the situation immediately
Leaving the younger man to wake in his own time, Jim set off to gather his warriors and set up the watch.
Blair drifted up from a wonderful dream where he was warm and safe and loved, a dream where his ideal lover - who, oddly enough, bore Jim's image - held him close and loved him deeply. A lover who touched and tasted and pushed him into a shatteringly intense climax. A lover who disappeared like smoke when Blair blinked his eyes open.
He groaned as he realized that the front of his shorts were damp and that the smell of solo-sex hung in the air. He hadn't had a wet- dream that intense in years. Pushing himself out of bed, he first ascertained that Jim was away and then set about cleaning himself up, helping himself to another set of Jim's clothes.
Jim was no where to be seen, but the breakfast waiting on the table for him was an indication that he'd been and gone not too long ago. Blair devoured it, genuinely hungry for the first time since his ordeal, then sat back in the chair with a satisfied sigh and took a really good look around him.
The hut was obviously a bachelor's place. There was only one chair for the table, one set of dishes on the shelf, and scant else except for the bed and the trunk in the corner.
And it was disgustingly tidy.
Well, except for the pile of clothes he had left on the floor, he thought guiltily. He really should pick up a bit around here, he thought, since Jim was letting him stay. With the aid of water from the rain-barrel outside, he managed to clean the breakfast dishes and wash down the table. A woven basket containing one of Jim's dirty shirts was obviously the laundry hamper, so he tossed his own dirty clothes in with them. A tentative sniff of his blanket confirmed that sex smells permeated it, so he threw it over the line outside to air it out and hoped that would help.
Back in the hut, he located a stiff broom and swept the floor a little, then decided that he needed to take care of the laundry. That proved to be a problem - he couldn't seem to locate Jim's stash of soap. Explorations of the few shelves and cubbies turned up nothing, and a root through the clothes trunk also produced no results.
As he put the stuff back into the truck -probably a lot more rumpled than Jim left them - he caught sight of a smaller trunk tucked away in the corner behind the larger one. He picked it up; it felt heavy but not staggeringly so. Blair set it on the table, sat down in the chair, and opened the lid.
It only took a moment to realize that the soap wasn't here. But a woman's scarf was, and a small broach, and about a half-dozen notepads. He pulled out one, puzzling over the initials GME on the cover, and contemplated opening it.
He never got a chance.
There was a sudden roar behind him and Blair dropped the journal, startled. Before Blair could even blink, Jim had pulled him out of the chair and had him pinned against the wall.
"What in hell do you think you're doing?" the older man demanded.
Blair flung up his hands placatingly. "Whoa, Tarzan! Take it easy!"
Jim snarled and thumped Blair against the wall even harder. "Leave it alone, Sandburg! Do you hear me? I said Leave. It. Alone."
"Heard you," Blair managed breathlessly, and just as suddenly, he was released. "Um - I'll go take a walk - "
Jim didn't say anything, just stood there breathing heavily with his jaw set, and Blair slipped out of the hut as quickly as his mostly- healed ankle would let him. He walked blindly, not even sure where he was going, and found himself standing on the shore of the lake looking out over the water, wondering if he had just screwed up his life completely.
It was later in the day than the last time he had made this trip because the village women were already hard at work doing laundry, laughing and chattering among themselves. Blair belatedly remembered the laundry that needed to be done but then shuddered - there was no way he was going back to the hut anytime soon.
"Yachacheq?"
He opened his eyes and managed a half-smile as he saw that one of the village women was standing in front of him, a concerned look on her face. Sharp dark eyes studied his face.
"You OK?"
The woman spoke haltingly in English, and Blair's eyes widened. "You speak English?"
The woman shrugged eloquently. "Pisichallatan. Doctor teach. I learn. I called Kisafi."
Blair frowned at that, wondering who "Doctor" was, having seen no other English-speakers in the village and doubting that "Doctor" referred to Jim.
"You OK?"
Blair sighed. "Yeah. I'm OK."
Kisafi frowned. "Don't look OK. Look sad. You have pain?"
"Huh?" He wondered if his heartache was that apparent on his face.
"Water cool - ease pain." She patted his arm reassuringly. "Soon grow used to it. You see."
Blair gaped at her, not comprehending the non-sequitor. "I don't -" Then he flushed as he realized what she meant. "God - I haven't - we didn't - "
She frowned, obviously trying to understand what his stammering meant, then her face cleared. "Ah. No need for fear. Enqueri good man - other lovers in past. Gentle. You see."
"Not likely," he muttered. "I doubt that Jim would ever come near me."
The woman gave him a puzzled look. "You are Guide."
"I am screwed," Blair said frankly, "and not in the good way, either. Although why Jim would even give me a second look when there's all sorts of beautiful women throwing themselves at him. Lita, for example."
Kisafi looked confused through most of his words, but recognized the girl's name and spit. "Bah! Foolish girl. Knows forbidden. Enqueri cannot spill seed in woman. Gods forbid it."
Blair blinked at that. "He can't? I mean - shit -" He bit his lip, trying to contemplate what the older woman was trying to say. He was torn between embarrassment over the nature of this discussion, surprise that the Chopec expected that he and Jim would be intimate, and elation that Jim was inclined towards male partners. And he was frustrated by his inability to ask her for more details. I have to get Jim to teach me more Quechan -
On the thought, he saw Jim coming towards him and he involuntarily stiffened. Kisafi patted his arm once more, said something to Jim, and then went back to her laundry although both men felt her eyes on them.
"Chief," Jim said quietly.
"Jim - man - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I don't blame you for being mad, and I swear that I will never, ever, look into your stuff in the future - "
Jim reached out to cover Blair's mouth with his fingers, smiling slightly. "Breathe, Chief."
Blair chuckled, relieved that the comradery seemed to still be there. "Breathing is so over-rated."
Jim laughed a little, too. "Chief, I've got something to show you - something to tell you, too. Something I should have told you at the start. Would you come back to the hut with me?"
"Sure, Jim," Blair said, blowing out a sigh of relief. Jim wasn't mad at him. Jim wasn't about to kick him out. Anything else he could deal with.
When the entered the hut, the first thing Blair saw was the chest still sitting on the table. He flushed. "Jim, I am so sorry, man. I didn't look - I swear it - I'll put it away."
Jim picked up one of the notebooks and held it out to Blair. "Take it, Chief." Blair's mouth dropped open, and Jim wiggled the book in his hand. "Come on, Chief. I want you to have it."
Blair took the notebook and glanced at the initials again. "Who-?"
"Open it, Chief."
Blair slowly opened the journal and glanced at the title page, then looked up at Jim in shock. "Dr. Grace Maddox-Ellison? These are hers? Oh, man! She is like my idol! I based my master's thesis on her writings on tribal cultures. And she did a treatise early in her career about people who have enhanced senses that I was thinking about exploring for my doctoral work - she called them Sentinels, which came from some earlier writings by Sir Richard Burton, the - "
"The explorer, not the actor." Jim's mouth quirked up. "I know, Chief. She was my mother."
Blair stared again, and suddenly recalled the weird fit Jim had had the previous day. Everything he had read about Sentinels clicked into place. "You're a sentinel, aren't you?"
Jim didn't answer immediately, just took the other journals out of the case and held them out to Blair. "I want you to have these, Chief. She'd want you to have them. She was a scientist, like you."
"But - "
Jim grasped Blair's head between his palms. "Read, Sandburg. Then we'll talk."
Blair nodded, speechless, and watched as Jim walked out the door. Then he sat down in the chair, opened the first journal, and began to read.
"In tribal cultures, every village had a sentinel, chosen because of a genetic advantage -- a sensory awareness that can be developed beyond normal humans.."
An hour later, Blair closed the first journal and looked up, dazed. It was all there: Dr. Ellison's theories about Sentinels, the information she had gathered from talking to people in many countries, the evidence she had gathered about those with one or more enhanced senses, all of it. There was no mention of Jim in this first journal, but a quick flip through the others showed that they were her observations of her son from the time he was born, ending abruptly when he was seventeen. He resisted the urge to dive into them, to read all about the enigmatic man he had fallen for, and went looking for the man himself.
Jim wasn't anywhere in the village or by the lake, but when he asked one of the older boys, he pointed towards a faint path. Blair followed it and came across a small clearing carved out of the jungle. Jim was standing next to a pile of rocks that obviously marked a grave, his back to Blair, but he must have heard Blair approaching because he started talking as soon as the anthropologist was close enough.
"My parents met at college - Mom was working on her masters in Anthropology and Bill Ellison on his MBA - but they never should have married. By the time I was old enough to be aware, it was practically over. I know that she was unhappy - he wanted her to settle down and become a corporate wife, and she wanted to pursue her career. Having me come along with all my 'problems' didn't help."
"Jim, you didn't have problems - you have a gift - "
"Chief, I had trouble sleeping, eating, and wearing clothes because of rashes. My father didn't think I was a 'gift' -he thought I was a freak." Jim sighed. "They divorced when I was seven and my brother was five. My father insisted on keeping Steven, but he was more than happy to let Mom have me.
"She brought me here. Mom had lived with the Chopec while she was doing her doctoral work on tribal cultures, and they welcomed her back. They were able to help her get me sorted out, too."
Blair looked down at the grave. "I haven't read all of the journals, but I noticed that the last one ended when you were seventeen. Is that when she died?"
Jim nodded. "Got in the way of a local drug war," he said bitterly. "We were in town picking up medical supplies. Mom was killed, I was taken in by the police. They called my father, and he took me back to Cascade. I tried to get away, get back to the jungle, but Bill Ellison was determined to get me over this 'Tarzan nonsense'. He put me into a military prep school to get me ready for college."
"Bastard," Blair muttered.
"Yeah. I had no idea how to deal with the world out there, no one to help me. My senses shut down completely and it was like being crippled."
"What did you do?"
Jim shrugged. "Adapted. Survived. I went to the college my father chose, studied business like he wanted, and waited. When I turned 21, I got my hands on my mother's inheritance and I came back to Peru." He drew a deep breath. "It took me two years to track down the people who killed her, make sure that they paid. Then I came home, and I've been here for the past five years."
"Wow," Blair said softly. "So, your senses came back online when you got back here?"
"Not exactly, Chief. Incacha had to put me through some guided spirit walks first."
Blair nodded. "Your mother's journal mentioned a guide - someone the sentinel relied on watch his back, pull him out of zones. Incacha's yours, huh?"
Jim shook his head. "No. Incacha's a guide, but he's not my Guide."
Blair frowned. "There's a difference?"
"Big difference, Chief. While any guide can theoretically help any sentinel with the general stuff, there is only one true Guide for each Sentinel. They form a partnership - for life."
"And you have one?" Blair ignored the pain that the thought gave him.
"Yeah, Chief, I do." He smiled, remembering. "I was ten, and Mom was doing a presentation at an international conference about the rainforest - how the destruction of it was affecting the indigenous people. You must have been - what? three?"
Blair's head jerked up. "Me?"
Jim's smile widened and he tugged on Blair's hair. "Yeah. You, Chief. You had gotten lost and I took you back to your mother."
Blair's eyes widened. "I remember! But I didn't get lost. I saw something - I swore it was a black jaguar but my mom didn't believe me. She thought I got lost. I didn't - I followed him, and he led me to someone. To you."
Jim nodded, smiling. "That's what you told me. You were a talker even then, Sandburg."
"The last day of the conference, you gave me a stuffed panther, said it would protect me," Blair said, then laughed. "Oh, man! If you knew all the places I dragged that thing, until it finally just disintegrated." His eyes were soft and shining as he looked up at the other man.
"Glad you liked it," Jim said, fighting the urge to pull the other man into his arms and kiss him.
"So this can't be just coincidence that we both turned up here in Peru, can it?"
Jim shrugged. "Mom thought that the Sentinel and Guide would be drawn together, eventually, somehow."
"She was right. Here I am."
"Here you are," Jim said softly, not looking directly at Blair, certainly that he wouldn't be able to hide the longing in his eyes. "So what happens now, Chief?"
"Are you kidding, man?" Blair asked, his hands moving excitedly as he talked. "I've got to read all your mom's journals, and then I need to come up with some tests - "
"Tests?" Jim asked, surprised.
"Sure! I need to know exactly what you can do. I mean, I've got those notes but they're ten years old! I need to know if your senses have developed, atrophied - and what effect did going off-line have on them?"
"Chief, I'm not doing any tests," Jim growled, then realized that his guide was no longer at his side. He turned around and saw that Blair was heading towards the village, his hands still gesturing as he speculated on testing criteria. "Sandburg! Did you hear me? Sandburg!"
End of How the Guide Found His Sentinel