Black Knight (29 page)

Ora is dead.

Marc may have killed him but it’s Viper who’s the murderer.

I swear to myself I’m going to take her down.

The steam is thick. We can see each other, and the narrow pathways through the pools, that’s it. Then Chad taps me on the shoulder, points to a trail of footprints in the crusty black soil. The prints belong to a small barefoot woman. Like Nordra, and myself for that matter, Viper must have set aside her boots before going into battle, counting on the extra traction and quiet steps the absence of footwear would give her.

Together, we track the footprints. But we’ve not gone far when we come to the edge of the hot springs and a flat sheet of black stone. It’s covered with a faint coat of ash; still, Viper’s footprints are now unclear. We see a partial print of her left foot, hike another twenty feet before we see a print of her right toes. Chad tries his best to resist but the fumes cause him to cough, giving away our position.

I motion for us to stand still, listen. I think I hear something off to our left. Marc is on my left. He gestures, silently asking if he can whisper in my ear. I nod and he leans close to my head.

“Behind us,” he says. “To our . . . Aaah!”

A stone knife magically emerges from the steam the instant the tip penetrates Marc’s lower back. He cries out in pain and I immediately slash behind him with my machete, hitting nothing but thin air. Yet, over Marc’s moans, I hear movement. Gesturing to Chad to help Marc, who’s dropped to the ground, I anxiously scan the area behind us.

The steam is still thick; we’re on a rock plate, prints are hard to find, and my eyes are aching from the fumes. I can’t rely on my vision, I have to listen, have to block out whatever sounds Marc is making.

But my guys are true heroes; Chad knows what I’m doing. He clamps his hand over Marc’s mouth and Marc quietly reaches up and pulls it away, nodding that he knows he can’t so much as groan.

If Viper was fleeing I’d see movement in the steam, but it sticks to us like a shadow. It’s unfortunate the steam’s robbed me of the glare of the sun, that I can’t spot the outline of her shadow. It’s as if she’s planned everything ahead of time. First she waited until we were at our most vulnerable, when Nordra attacked. Now she’s probably celebrating the fact that I’ve split up our team of witches to search for her. That might have been an error on my part, I think. Marc’s already wounded and . . .

I hear someone draw in a sharp breath. The guys are behind me, this sound comes from in front of me. What would force her to take an audible breath? The sound is coming from at least ten feet away, closer to fifteen. I hear a faint rustle of clothing.

Viper’s about to attack!

Attack from a distance!

She must have picked up a spear! A spear that will only become visible after she’s thrown it at my chest!

That’s why she attacked Marc with a knife. She didn’t want to mess with me at first. No, she used the knife to give me the impression that was the only weapon she had beside her telekinesis—which she can’t use while cloaked. She tried to plant the idea in my mind that she would have to come close to hurt me. And she has come close but only close enough to make sure her spear doesn’t miss.

I have one chance and I take it. From holding my machete up high, I swing it around like an overthrown bowling ball and let go of my grip. The sharp stick flies through seemingly nothing but steam—until it strikes.

Viper suddenly appears, the stump of her left arm gushing blood. My machete’s caught her wrist. Her severed hand, the fingers gripping one of our own spears, lies bloodied on the black rock. Viper stares down at it, stunned, then glares at me.

The hatred in her eyes shouldn’t shock me and yet it does. She’s stalked us and she’s murdered us. Yet she’s outraged we’ve fought back. It’s like she’s never been spanked before and doesn’t know how to deal. Well, I do, I know exactly what I’m going to do to her.

I leap toward her. She vanishes.

I stop, think.

She’s wounded, she should try to escape.

But she’s furious, she wants revenge.

Which fact will drive her next decision?

I retreat to Chad and Marc, pick up the machete Marc dropped, scan for drops of blood. There’s a mass of red where Viper’s hand has fallen but I can’t find any other bloody drops. Forcing an arrogant smile, I wave the machete in the air and act like I don’t have a care in the world.

“Come out, you coward!” I shout. “Let’s put an end to this now!”

I don’t mean what I say. I’m trying reverse psychology, hoping she’ll reject my challenge. My first priority has to be Marc and Chad. Marc’s been stabbed and Chad is tending to him. They can’t help me but—even missing a hand—Viper can probably find a way to use them against me. Just look at what Nordra did.

Far to my right I hear running steps. I even see the steam twist and whirl as someone races through the stinking cloud. Finally I glimpse a trail of blood. But I don’t go after her. Viper will just make me pay by circling around and cutting Chad’s throat.

I kneel beside Marc and Chad.

“How bad is it?” I ask.

Chad’s already torn off the sleeve of his shirt and is using it as a bandage. “She struck near his kidney but I think she missed,” he says. “Pressure’s slowing the bleeding. I doubt she hit a major vein or artery.”

I put my hands on Marc. “I’ll do a quick healing.”

Marc stops me. “Wait until we get back to the others.”

“Okay. As long as you let me carry you.”

Marc looks disgusted. “No way.”

“Way,” I insist.

Chad nods in the direction of Viper’s severed hand. “Is she capable of growing another one?” he asks.

I pick up Marc, being careful to hold his bandage in place.

“I don’t know,” I say, and I don’t.

On the way back we pass where she lost her hand.

But the hand is gone.

Yet she’s left her black bracelet lying on the ground.

I tell Chad to pick it up and put it in my pocket.

* * *

Nordra is gone. In the confusion, no one saw him leave. I’m stunned that he was able to recover from such a deadly blow. My spear must have somehow missed his heart and given him a chance to heal. I can only hope he’s no longer a hundred percent.

Both Nordra’s girls are dead, which is a surprise. Apparently Chad hit the major artery in the girl’s leg when he struck with his spear. While the rest of us were dealing with Viper, she bled out. It’s a small victory but we’ll take it.

I do a healing on Marc while Sam digs graves for Ora, Mary, and Billy, who are so badly burned they’re unrecognizable. The graves are shallow and Sam digs alone. The healing I did on his arm is holding.

Kyle is off with his guys, Pierre and Keb, collecting the leader of the ghosts. He swears he wounded her, tied her up, that he just has to collect her. In all the commotion I’ve almost forgotten what triggered the attacks.

I manage to stop Marc’s bleeding but the wound remains open and I don’t like the smell of it. I suspect Viper’s knife had poison on the tip. I keep the suspicion to myself but Marc senses something’s wrong. He says he feels a weird burning sensation.

“Where?” I ask.

“All over,” he says.

I wish Li could work on him but she’s afraid she’ll make him worse. I don’t press her. The attacks have only made her more anxious than before. For the life of me, I don’t know what’s wrong with her head.

Kyle and the others miss our brief memorial service. Sam says a few words about the courage of Mary and Billy, but when it’s my turn to talk about Ora, I choke up, and Chad has to speak for our group.

“Ora was a warrior at heart. He knew how dangerous it was to get near Viper but that didn’t hold him back. I saw his face as he charged her. He knew he was about to die but he wanted to protect us. That was the only thing that mattered to him. We only met two days ago but I can honestly say I never knew a braver soul.” Chad kneels and picks up a scoop of dirt, pouring it over the mound of Ora’s grave. “Rest in peace, my friend. We’ll miss you.”

Dear Chad—I know his words are partially meant for me. Chad knows I’m plagued with guilt. It does no good but I keep replaying in my head how I should have made my order clearer. I had wanted Ora to throw his spear at Viper from a distance, not approach her. Yet Chad’s trying to tell me that Ora was going to sacrifice himself no matter what, and maybe he’s right. I kneel beside Chad as he puts his hand on Ora’s grave and hug him.

Kyle finally returns with the ghost, carrying her in his arms. She’s badly injured. It appears Kyle not only speared her in the lower back but cut
both
her Achilles tendons with his machete. Even before he pulls me aside, I’m suspicious about her wounds.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he blurts out.

I’m furious with him. “That you’re a sadist?”

He balls his hand into a fist and pounds his leg. “Damn you! We talked about this. You need to make tough decisions. You still don’t get it, do you? We’re at war. It’s kill or be killed.”

“Then kill her! Put her out of her misery!” I glance to where Kyle’s dumped the ghost beside Sam. Her gray uniform is soaked with blood; half is dry, the rest is fresh. I add, “You deliberately cut her tendons so she can’t run.”

“And I keep cutting them. Do you know a better way of restraining her? It’s not like when we came to the Field we were each given a kit equipped with handcuffs, ankle chains, and rope. No, they gave us a plaque that said only one of us is going to survive.” Kyle stops and throws up his arms in frustration. “But if you want her dead, then you kill her.”

“There’s no need to continually mutilate her!” I snap.

“I just explained why it is necessary!” he snaps back.

“What did you do while we were fighting Nordra? Spear her to a tree and slice her tendons?”

“I came as fast as I could.”

I hesitate. “I’m not calling you a coward.”

“No. Just a sadist. Thank you. Thanks a lot.”

“I’m just saying that most of her wounds are fresh. You’re not letting her heal. You keep cutting and stabbing her.”

Kyle lowers his voice. “How else do we keep her from running back to her buddies? Oh, and before you do answer please keep in mind that it was the queen of the ghosts here that led us into the trap that killed Ora, Billy, and Mary. It’s not like these cute little albinos are innocent.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know how to keep her captive. I just know that we’re not going to keep slicing up her body so she keeps bleeding. We do that and we’re no better than Nordra or Viper.”

Kyle stares at me. “Who said we are better?”

I look up at the volcano and sigh. The edge of the sun has touched the cinder cone’s rim, its light scattering and dimming as it passes through the heavy smoke. An eerie orange shadow falls over the graves and I fear we’ll be digging more if we don’t find shelter before dark. I explain our predicament to Kyle but he’s one step ahead of me.

“I spotted a cave when I went back for the ghost,” he says. “I didn’t have time to check it out but I sent Pierre and Keb to give it a look and they said it goes way back into the mountain.”

“It sounds perfect,” I mutter.

Kyle hears the double meaning in my tone. “Maybe too perfect?”

I tell Kyle I want to talk with our ghost. He doesn’t object. We both know she can’t talk. But Sam’s sitting with the wounded creature and I wonder if he’ll be able to make contact with her. I sit beside them while Kyle organizes the rest of the group to head for the cave.

“Can you pick up her thoughts?” I ask.

“Only the ones she chooses to share,” Sam says. “She has a highly disciplined mind. She’s in terrible pain and in unfriendly hands but she’s still calm.”

“Is that good?” I ask.

“Personally I’d like it if she was more afraid of us. You know we underestimated her earlier. She knew Nordra and Viper were about to attack. She and her people helped them by dividing us at a critical time.”

I frown. “Have you changed your mind? Do you think the ghosts are working with Nordra and Viper?”

Sam shakes his head. “I think the ghosts have mental radar, that they have a rough idea of where everyone is on the island at all times. But they’re physically weak. The only way they can defeat any of us is by moving us around like pieces on a chessboard. Force us to kill each other.”

I study the ghost leader as Sam speaks. The females appear to be as tall as the males—four feet. Her hair is pure white but her skin has a pink tinge. Her red eyes make her look sickly, at first glance. As I study them closely, I feel a sudden anxiety and quickly look away. Sam notes my reaction.

“She can plant thoughts and feelings in our minds,” he says.

“To what degree?” I ask.

“That is the big question, isn’t it? She might have trouble controlling us because we’re witches. I know she’s tried to plant the idea in my mind to walk away and leave her alone. So far I’ve been able to block her. But I wouldn’t want to let her get too close to the others.”

“Have you tried telling her we’d like to be friends?”

“After Kyle shot her with a spear and hacked up her legs? Yeah, I told her and it went over great. She trusts us even less than we trust her.”

“And you don’t trust her at all,” I say.

Sam’s worried. “Our plan to use her to control the other ghosts could backfire. They know we’ve got her, which means they’ll be tracking us. It could make them more determined than ever to lead Viper and Nordra to our doorstep.”

“What are you suggesting?” I ask.

Sam leans over and whispers in my ear. “Either leave her here or kill her now.”

I groan. “Does she have a name?”

“Jelanda.”

“Let me try talking to her. Tell me if she responds to what I say.” Sam nods, and I move closer to the ghost and again her eyes fasten on mine. But this time I meet her gaze straight on and feel her psychic probing as fingernails poking the front and back of my skull. I gesture to her bloody heels.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” I say.

Sam pauses before giving her reply. “Are you the leader of your group?”

“Yes.”

“Kill the one who injured us and we will believe you,” Sam replies for her. I note her use of the words “us” and “we.” I wonder if she has any sense of individuality.