A Change of Worlds

Book 5 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries

By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026

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Chapter 20

When we got back to the house, dinner was almost ready. After filling in Lily, Nikki, and Fletcher about the antique store, Jacy and I set the table while Lily and Fletcher finished the last-minute preparations.

The meal was delicious, the fish surprisingly tasty with the delicate flavors of herbs and smoke. The conversation was even better. I allowed the topics of discussion to flow around me, just listening to the easy banter between family members.

I suddenly realized the room had gone quiet, and I looked up to find everyone watching me expectantly. Someone had obviously said something to me. I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I must have zoned out for a second there. What did you say?"

"I asked if you had plans for this evening," Fletcher explained with a patient smile.

"No, not really."

"Then maybe you'd like to accompany me on my after-dinner walk. As much as I enjoy my solitary strolls, I'd enjoy your company even more."

I grinned. "That would be wonderful. I could really use some more relaxation time. Things have been pretty hectic lately. But should you be out walking?"

Fletcher chuckled. "Do you think this bunch would let me out of their sight if I wasn't? My cardiologist has granted his permission for me to start my evening walks once again." He turned to Jacy. "And what about you? Would you care to join us?"

Jacy had been watching us blankly, but at his grandfather's invitation, his expression turned to relief. "Sure." His tone was carefully casual, but I could tell he'd felt left out for a few seconds.

Lily and Nikki volunteered to do the dishes. Fletcher tried to argue, but Nikki overrode his objections. "I insist. You wouldn't let me help with dinner, so the least I can do is contribute to the cleanup."

After a bit more convincing, Fletcher agreed, and the three of us set out. I'd expected him to lead us to the road, where walking would be easier, but he headed across the backyard and into the trees. A mist was rising, giving a surreal, almost otherworldly effect to the scene.

We strode along in companionable silence for a few minutes, each of us simply enjoying the ethereal beauty of the forest.

When we were well away from the house, Fletcher cleared his throat. "Have you thought more about training your gifts?"

I threw Jacy a suspicious look. Had they been discussing my gifts and Jacy's offer to help me learn more about them?

Jacy shrugged, clearly indicating he wasn't in on it.

"Jacy offered to help me learn about them, but to be honest, I just haven't had time. I've had a lot of other things going on."

"It's kind and just like my grandson to offer to help you when he is still learning himself." Jacy blushed slightly and looked down at the ground. "I'm sure he has much he could teach you, but your gifts are different, so I'll also make myself available to you."

"You're both very generous, and I'll definitely take you up on that as soon as I have more time."

"You should make time."

"I don't know. I've got a lot on my mind these days."

"Then maybe right now is the best time."

I glanced over at him. "Why?"

He was staring straight ahead as we walked, not even watching where he placed his feet. "Part of learning how to control your gifts is learning how to control your thoughts. If you can do that, then perhaps it will help you with the other things on your mind."

I shook my head doubtfully, but accepted that Fletcher knew best and, besides, he obviously was not going to be deterred. To be fair, he had a vested interest in seeing me at my best. His grandson's whole life pretty much depended on my proving his innocence.

"How do we start?"

Fletcher's lined face broke into a pleased smile. "With something easy. What do you feel right now?"

I frowned, unsure what he meant. "I don't understand."

"Tell me what you feel physically. I want you to be very aware of your body and what it is experiencing."

I thought for a few seconds before answering. "I can feel the mist on my face. It's cool and kind of moist. I feel the ground beneath my feet, the slight crunch of the leaves, the springiness of the loam underneath."

Fletcher nodded encouragingly. "Go on."

He wanted more? I struggled to come up with an answer.

"Maybe if you close your eyes," he suggested gently.

I stopped walking and closed my eyes. "It's...as if I'm being watched. There's a slight tingling at the back of my neck. I always feel that when I'm in these woods."

"Good! What do you sense from these watchers?"

I opened my eyes and gave Fletcher a questioning look. "Nothing right now. Should there be something?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. You said 'right now.' Does that mean it's been different in the past?"

I nodded. "I told you how angry they were the day we went to confront Healy."

"So you know you can feel them when they want you to. I expect you could feel them all the time if you wanted to. Close your eyes again and reach out to them. Don't try to focus on any one in particular, just get a general impression."

"I don't know how to do that."

"It's easier than you think. Relax, open yourself up, and reach out with your mind. You probably do it all the time without even realizing it. That's what makes you such an empathetic person. You're constantly opening yourself up to other people's emotions. This is the same thing, except the ones you wish to connect with are no longer alive."

A slight shudder went through my body at that thought. Apart from Seth, I'd been doing my best to avoid the dead for quite a while now. Reaching out to them on purpose went against everything I'd been trying to do for the last couple of years.

Perhaps, though, the time had come to start.

Stifling a sigh, I closed my eyes and tried to do as Fletcher said. I relaxed and extended my mind, following as if by instinct the faint mental trail left by the watchful feeling. Emotions began to trickle into my consciousness, emotions that I didn't recognize as my own — faint at first but growing steadily stronger. I named them aloud as they came to me.

"Confusion... Sadness... Anger..."

"Can you connect these emotions to anything? Do you know why they are confused?"

I tried to answer his question, but the emotions were all I could feel, with no explanation attached. I opened my eyes and shook my head, frustrated by my failure.

"You did well. Don't be upset." Fletcher's voice and expression were filled with encouragement. "Let's sit down. This next part works better that way."

We settled to the ground, cross-legged, in a rough circle about six feet across. Fletcher untied a small leather pouch from his belt. "First, we must give back to the ancestors — those who came before — but also those who are with us now, and those who will come after."

From the pouch he extracted a pinch of something dark brown, which he sprinkled solemnly on the ground in front of him. He handed the pouch to Jacy, who did the same before passing it on to me.

"This is dried tobacco," Fletcher explained. "As I'm sure you know, tobacco has always been sacred to our people. I grew and dried this leaf myself."

A fragrant scent wafted to me from my offering as I sprinkled it on the ground.

After I returned the bag to Fletcher, he tied it on his belt again. Then he faced Jacy, who'd been very quiet up to that point. "It's been a while since you were in Killian's place."

Jacy smiled. "Except I have no gifts when it comes to the spirits."

"No, but the first step of training is the same. Do you remember what it is?"

"Meditation," Jacy responded without hesitation.

Fletcher nodded approvingly, every inch a teacher pleased with his student. He turned back to me. "What do you know about meditation?"

"Not much."

"Tell me whatever you do know or how you feel about meditation."

I shrugged, feeling woefully unprepared for my first lesson. "I guess it's some sort of spiritual act, as if you're looking inward. A lot of religions practice it."

"Meditating can be a spiritual act, but there is nothing intrinsically holy or special about it. It's simply a mindful quality, a focusing, both mental and physical. Its whole purpose is to tame your mind, to control your thoughts."

I nodded to show I was following him so far.

"The reason I started off asking you what you felt physically is because it is important to first be aware of your body in relation to the world around you. Once you achieve that, you can begin. Are you ready?"

I nodded again.

"You can meditate anywhere, but I've found it easiest to do it in a place that's peaceful. You just sit as we are now and relax your body completely. Rest your arms on your legs and tuck your chin in slightly. Shift to a more comfortable position if you need to. Be conscious of what is above you, and also what is below. We believe that everything in nature has its own unique spirit: the sky over you, the ground beneath you, even the tree at your back. Reach out and find the spirit of the Earth, that energy of life, and tap into it. Use it to center yourself, as an anchor."

When he paused, I assumed I was supposed to do what he'd said. I wasn't sure how much I bought into the whole idea of nature spirits, but I tried to follow his instructions. I shifted around until I found a comfortable position, then relaxed my body as much as possible.

"Do I close my eyes?"

"If you want. It's not necessary."

I decided to leave them open. I tried to reach out as Fletcher had said, searching for the Earth energy. After a few seconds of nothing, I thought I felt a slight pulling from below. I tentatively extended my awareness toward it and was instantly rewarded with a sense of security and stability. A pleased smile spread across my face.

"Excellent!" Fletcher said proudly. "We have related to the body; now we relate to the mind. Although there are many techniques for relaxing, one of the easiest is to simply concentrate on your breathing. Focus on it. Feel it go in and out. Watch it with your inner vision. Don't accentuate or alter your breath at all, just notice it. Focus on how you exhale. After your breath goes out, there is a momentary gap, a space, before you breathe in. You're learning how to focus on your breathing, while at the same time giving some kind of space to the technique.

"As you do this, you'll probably have many thoughts flooding into your mind. That's fine. Just acknowledge them, label them as thoughts, then return to your breathing. No matter how extreme or how random the thought, just let it go."

I began to focus on my breathing. Immediately, thoughts began to interrupt my concentration, just as he'd said they would. I tried to push them aside as they floated to the surface of my mind, but they kept on coming: a steady barrage of images, emotions, and ideas — most of them centering on Micah and our breakup.

"You're tensing up. Relax. Don't feel bad if your mind wanders," Fletcher corrected. "Just re-center on your breathing and continue. At first, you will be bombarded with thoughts, but as you relax they will eventually subside. During a storm, the river is disturbed, sediment is churned up, and the water becomes murky. When the wind dies down, the mud gradually settles and the water becomes clear. Your mind works the same way. When the otherwise incessant flow of your distracting thoughts is calmed through concentration on the breath, your mind becomes unusually lucid. This is your goal."

"What do I do if I reach my goal?"

"What do you do?" He chuckled. "You enjoy it. This is a wonderful way to become aware of your thoughts and take control of them instead of allowing them to control you. At the very least, meditation will calm and center you. Sometimes, when you reach that place of peace and stillness, you will see something the universe has been trying to show you but you've been too busy to notice. If that should happen, go with it. Don't be afraid or try to fight it."

"Heh. I don't think my brain will ever shut off long enough to let that happen."

"Not if you keep chattering," Fletcher chided gently. "Let's all just relax and meditate for a while."

Properly chastised, I went back to focusing on my breathing. Once again, thoughts of Micah intruded. I did as Fletcher had said and refocused on my breathing. More thoughts bubbled up: the case, Kane and his mom, Asher, even Jacy. Each time I realized my mind was drifting, I let the thought go and refocused on my breathing.

I don't know how long we sat there, but eventually everything extraneous faded away. Then it was just me and my breath. A sense of tranquility and harmony filled me.

Suddenly, the sound of a large body crashing through the leaves shattered my calm. My head snapped up just in time to see an enormous white buck explode from the fog, looking almost as if the mist had coalesced into solid form.

Jacy and Fletcher were both so deep in their meditation that they didn't even look up. Couldn't they hear the deer charging right at us?

I scrambled back as the deer leaped over Jacy's head and landed squarely in the center of our circle, throwing leaves and dirt across my body. I let out a whimper, but shockingly, neither Jacy nor Fletcher so much as flinched.

The buck took a step towards me, then slowly lowered his head until he was staring directly into my eyes, his sprawling antlers only inches from my face. His eyes were huge, dark orbs that almost seemed to hold stars within their depths. I knew without any uncertainty that he wanted me to follow him.

Was I dreaming? Had I fallen asleep while I was meditating, or was this some sort of vision?

Then I remembered Fletcher telling me that whatever happened, just go with it. So I went with it.

I rose shakily to my feet, using a nearby tree for support. As soon as I was standing, the buck was off, leaping gracefully through the trees. Even though I ran as hard as I could, he still easily outpaced me. Once I thought I'd lost him, until I caught a flash of white in the mist ahead. I kept running.

The white deer led me directly to the excavation site, which I realized a part of me had expected would be our destination all along. The buck stopped just inside the clearing, seemingly waiting for me to catch up. He stared at me for a moment before turning and walking majestically to the pit where the skeleton had been found. He stepped gingerly onto the tarp, then turned to face me. His gaze met mine, and once again I was struck by the impression that a universe existed in his eyes. I found myself falling into them, feeling as if I were floating in space.

I blinked and jumped. Where the deer had been only a moment before, there now stood a man. The buck was nowhere in sight. I started to back away until I noticed his eyes were exactly the same as the white deer's. A chill ran down my spine.

The man's black hair was shaved on the right side of his head, but short on top. On the left, it was long and tied in a knot into which he'd thrust several feathers. He was a little taller than I, broader across the chest and shoulders, his body tapering to a narrow waist. He was naked except for an apron of dark hide.

He began to speak, his language harsh and guttural to my ears — and completely unintelligible. As he continued, however, the meaning somehow began to sink in, almost as if he was somehow communicating directly with my mind and not just with words. "You want to know why we are confused. It is because our graves are being dug up. We understand and respect our descendants' thirst for knowledge but do not comprehend why our bones are being disturbed and our grave goods stolen by one who neither respects us nor seeks to understand us.

"You want to know why we are sad. It is because we grieve the disruption of our rest, but even more, we grieve how these people who dig up our bones have no care for the earth in which they dig.

"You want to know why we are angry. It is because we are robbed and disrespected in our death. Our bones have been disturbed, our belongings stolen for material gain."

While he spoke, I stood frozen in his gaze. Once he fell silent, it was as if he had released me from some sort of spell. Finding my voice, I asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you have the ability to hear us...and because you have sought answers. Few are those who can hear. Fewer still are those who listen."

My hands were shaking slightly. I balled them into fists and held them tight against my sides.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Stop the desecration of our graves. Return our grave goods to us. Allow us to rest once more before it is too late."

"Too late?"

"The dead are not powerless. We have chosen so far only to watch, but we will not be silent indefinitely." He stopped and sniffed. "One man has died already, and death is still in the air."

My breath caught in my throat. "Are you saying you will kill the thief?"

His eyes narrowed. "I did not say that. We do not wish to do harm. We wish only to be left alone to our rest. If this is not done, however, then we will be forced to act." As he spoke, he reached up and pulled a striped feather from the knot in his hair and held it out to me. I took a few shaky steps toward him and accepted it. "After I am gone, this will be a sign to you that we have spoken. Remember my words and heed them. The killing is not over — and if you are not careful, you may join us as one of the dead."

A strange smile curled his lips as he began to fade before my eyes.

"Wait!" I called frantically. "Do you know who the killer is?"

He didn't answer, just continued to fade.

"Who is stealing from you? Who is disturbing your graves?"

My questions were futile. He was gone, leaving me alone in the clearing, his words still echoing through my head. The killing wasn't over. And I might be one of the victims unless I stopped the murderer first.

I needed to talk to Fletcher, but I didn't even know how to find my way back to him. I'd blindly followed the deer through the woods and had no idea where I'd started or even what direction I'd come from.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to mentally retrace my steps, but it was no use. I'd focused all my attention on the deer. I had no idea how to get back.

I opened my eyes and gasped. I was staring across at Fletcher and Jacy, both of whom still appeared to be deep in meditation. Our circle remained unchanged. Had everything been just a bizarre dream after all?

At the sound of my gasp, Fletcher blinked and looked up at me with an inquisitive expression. "Did you manage to shut out your thoughts and find your peace?"

"I think I fell asleep," I told him ruefully.

Fletcher chuckled. "It happens to the best of us." He tipped his head toward Jacy, who I realized wasn't actually meditating. He snored lightly, his chin resting on his chest.

I grinned, feeling less like a failure now that I knew Jacy had dozed off as well.

"I had a strange dream, though."

"Oh, really?" Fletcher's eyebrows rose with interest. "Tell me about it, please. Dreams can sometimes be just as informative as the world around us." He paused. "And while you're at it, maybe you can tell me about that feather in your lap."

Startled, I looked down to find that, sure enough, a barred feather lay across my legs.

"Maybe it wasn't a dream after all," I whispered.

An intensity came into Fletcher's eyes as he leaned towards me. "What happened? What did you see?"

"I'd reached the place you were talking about, that place of peace, when I heard something running through the forest coming toward us. As I looked up, a huge white deer jumped into the center of our circle." Fletcher's eyes widened. "I knew he wanted me to follow him, and remembered what you told me about going with whatever happens while you're meditating, so I did. He led me to the excavation site where he turned into a man."

"What did the man look like?" His voice was tight with excitement.

At that point the full import of my experience began to hit me. My heart raced and I was breathing as rapidly as if I'd just completed a sprint. I described the man who'd spoken to me.

When I finished, Fletcher nodded as if I had confirmed something he already knew, then he gestured for me to continue.

"He told me they understand your desire for knowledge, but they're angry about their graves being disturbed and their grave goods stolen."

"We knew that already. There must have been some other reason he spoke to you. Did he say anything else?"

"He said..." I took a deep breath. "...that the dead are not powerless, and if I don't stop the thief soon, they will be forced to act. And that the killing isn't over."

I left out the part where he said I might be one of the victims. I didn't want to worry Fletcher needlessly.

He sat silently for several minutes, watching me with troubled eyes while he thought about what I had told him. Finally, nodding as if he'd come to some sort of decision, he tried to get up. I quickly jumped to my feet to help him.

"Thank you," he said. "The damp has crept into my joints. I tend to forget I'm not as young as I used to be. I can't sit on the ground in the fog for hours anymore."

Had it really been hours? I checked my phone and was shocked to see that, sure enough, several hours had passed since dinner. I'd lost all track of time while we meditated.

"Would you wake Jacy for me?" He leaned against a tree for support. He seemed weary, as if a heavy weight had been dropped onto his shoulders.

"Why do you think he appeared to me?"

Fletcher studied me for a few moments. "Your gifts are strong, Killian, especially those dealing with the spirits. In fact, they're even stronger than I suspected. You caught on to deep meditation much quicker than most people, you had no trouble grounding yourself on your first try, and my most honored ancestor not only appeared to you as his totem, but also in his true form."

My mouth dropped open. "Your...most honored ancestor? You mean you know him?"

"His name is White Deer. He was a powerful shaman for our tribe in the time before the Europeans arrived. I have seen him and even spoke to him once many years ago when I was on my first vision quest in this very forest. That was when he told me I would be a shaman as well."

"But why me? Why not Jacy? I'm not even Native American."

"Jacy has no talent for hearing or seeing the spirits. White Deer has chosen you, most likely because of your gifts. He can communicate with you."

"You've talked with him too."

"Yes, but that was many years ago. Now, I'm an old, sick man. You are young, and your gifts are powerful, and you're here with us. I suspect he senses that you are trying to help."

"I told them that once," I said slowly. "When the spirits seemed to be testing me. I told them that I was here to help."

Fletcher nodded. "And he heard you. You are caught up in what is happening now — for good or ill." He rubbed his face. "Could you please wake Jacy now? I'm feeling quite tired. I need to get back to the house."

"Of course. I'm sorry." I turned and gently shook Jacy's shoulder.

He blinked awake and looked around in drowsy confusion. "Did I fall asleep?" His voice was heavy with disappointment.

"Yes," I replied with a smile. "And you missed quite a bit too."

Jacy rubbed his eyes as he tried to wake himself up. "What did I miss?"

"Only the appearance of one of your—"

A scream ripped through the mist, cutting me off in midsentence. We all snapped around towards the sound.

"Where did that come from?" Jacy demanded.

"It sounded like it came from the excavation," Fletcher said. "Something is wrong. Go. I'll call for help." He was already pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

Jacy was off without another word, but I hesitated. Fletcher was weak. I wasn't sure I should leave him alone in the forest.

"Go!" Fletcher urged me.

The fear in his voice goaded me into action. I ran after Jacy, following the sound of his crashing steps through the fog.

What would we find when we reached the clearing? My chest constricted as I remembered White Deer's warning: Death was in the air.

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