Preparing to Leave

The clock was ticking on the next surprise that Drake might pull, so affairs in Chicago had to be wrapped up pretty damn quick. While Herne and I caravaned our van load of (soon to be former) bounty hunters to the nearest Saintly Sisters of Mother Mary’s Mercy Hospital, the others were preparing for our newest journey westward.

Jim, the Professor, had suggested four possible locations for an organized-on-the-fly, semi-covert Convocation of the Clans--all in places that are normally warm and sunny this time of year, since Ravyn insisted--Disneyworld in Orlando, Disneyland in Anaheim, New Orleans, or the original Sin City, Las Vegas. The choices were limited not only in terms of climate, but in places that handled large amounts of tourists, usually had plenty of meeting places and hotel rooms, and where up to a few hundred Casters of various types ranging from Native American shamans to Jedi-like New Age sorcerors could come together in a fairly inconspicuous manner, and yet still be public enough to provide a modicum of safety in numbers.

His reasoning was solid, any gatherings made in places similar to the co-op offered Drake and his followers too many opportunities to drum up some local goons and buy off the local police force. He was obviously willing to set those types on us with the possibility that people would be killed or seriously hurt. But, Jim argued, in a place like the four locations he pointed out, the sheer size of the gathering places and the publicity that any possible attack would draw on the attackers made them the safest and most convenient choices for this improvised gathering.

I had no idea how large this group was, or how much financial support they had until Jim started this discussion. I was further amazed to learn that he had helped to establish all of this while he was still a graduate student nearly fifteen years ago. In that time, I later learned, he had helped turn a fairly modest endowment from the estate of a modestly wealthy benefactor of a couple hundred thousand dollars into a private corporation with a net value in the low eight figures.

Everyone I spoke to about the Professor marvelled at how he was a financial wizard, that eventhough he disavowed any magickal talents of his own, he seemed to have a true knack to know how and when to invest in various market instruments, diving into the stock market with seemingly reckless abandon just before stocks exploded, while also pulling out just before major crashes. He would just shrug when I asked him about such things and say it really, really paid to know how to research and recognize the small little signs that signalled big changes to come.

Amazingly though, he had a deep disdain for personal wealth and for those who sought such riches for their own sake. He presented himself as a man who lived modestly and who helped others out of a genuine interest in seeing good done in the world.

So it seemed to make a perverse kind of perfect sense that his final recommendation for the convocation was Las Vegas, a place that represented the antithesis of everything he stood for.

The preparations for the trip were done before dawn. I, of course, travelled light. I still didn’t have my own vehicle and equipment back from the my first southwest trip, since there just hadn’t been time for John’s students to make it to Chicago yet. Ravyn called them and had them redirect towards Vegas, asking them to start making arrangements for lodging for as many of the 80 or so Casters and as many of their several hundred students as would be able to make it.

Ravyn spent much of her time on the phone calling other Casters and sending them towards Vegas instead of Chicago. The Frau and Cerrydwen though, seemed to communicate with others through less conventional means, spending their time in a trance-like state that I recognized from my own Spirit Walking.

That left most of the packing and other physical work to the half-dozen or so students of Ravyn that were coming with us on this trip.

By the time everything was packed and ready to roll, there was a small caravan comprised of Jim’s truck, one of the appropriated SUV’s from the bounty hunters, an older van decked out in the psychedelic colors of someone who spent too much time smoking dope and wathcing old Scooby-Doo cartoons, and a couple of smaller econobox cars.

Luckily, John did come awake during the time spent getting ready and was able to recognize everyone and thank each of us for the rescue before drifting back into a healing sleep.

Shortly after noon, the Professor led the motley group of vehicles onto the Interstate and we headed west. For me, it was the second time in less than a week that I making this trip. Thius time however, I went forward with hope and friends at my side.

There was no way to know what dangers may lie ahead for us at that point, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I had to face those dangers alone.