We trudged back through the seemingly endless desert of Terra Incognita. When we reached the underground cavern underneath the hotel, it was deserted this time. The power seemed completely cut, the elevators weren't running. We ambled up the elevator shaft; well, I flew, my companions lept out in a single bound, Gunnar giving the poor Satyr named "Pond Scum" a helping hand upward.
The hotel was a burned out wreck. Nate saw that we had cellular service again, and did a double take when he saw the time and date stamp refresh on the face of his smart phone. He quickly jabbed a number on speed-dial and reached Camillia and blurted into the phone: "We're-still-alive-not-dead-be-back-as-soon-as-we-can-so-very-sorry-later-k?" then hung up.
Gunnar was very concerned for Pond Scum, but Pond Scum reassured us he could fend for himself in the wild, and he would seek and find his master, for he was a loyal servant. With that, we released him from our company, bid him farewell, thanked him for his leading us through the desert. Pond Scum bowed, said he was only fulfilling his duty, then bounded off into the nearby brush.
Despite our epic stamina and fortitude we still felt weary from all that we'd just been through. Gunnar still looked like hell, and Ty looked worse. We let both of them stretch out on the back seat and floorboard of Nate's SUV and get some shut-eye.
Nate gunned the engine and we roared out of Death Valley National Park like bats out of hell. Laurel sat with Gunnar, gently stroking his head as he slept, his head in her lap. Jack dozed in the front passenger seat. I leaned up against the side window and nodded off as well.
We drove in shifts, and in no time Laurel was pulling us into the driveway of her San Francisco Bay Area home in Berkeley again. The kids were overjoyed to see us all, and young Brendan was especially keen to update me on what the lawyers we'd hired had been doing for him, that he was doing okay in school, and that Gunter had taken over as his "big brother" of sorts, but he was glad to see his "Uncle Brendan" again too. I tussled his hair playfully and said "Tis grand to see you again, too, young Brendan."
I knew I'd be heading back to the UC Law Library the very next day to keep things moving along with facilitating Laurel's adoption of Gair, and also to keep Ogma, and by extension, Aisling, satisfied that I was staying connected to the world of Higher Learning as I am duty bound to do.
A few days later, I noticed the special ring on my Smartphone, a clip of a song from the group Paris Combo, a French Jazz band I positively love. It was the ringtone I'd assigned for my CO at INTERPOL, back in Lyon, France...
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