Keeper of the Black Stones (56 page)

“Wait!” I shouted, listening intently to the voice in my head. The stone was speaking to me more easily now, as if we'd build a connection that couldn't be severed. And it was insistent. “You're going the wrong way!” I declared.

Doc turned back, a scowl on his face. “Jason, I've let you run off on your own long enough,” he snapped. “Now is not the time to question me. We're going to Abergavenny, and that's final.”

“Doc, that stone isn't there anymore! You'll travel to Abergavenny and find yourself trapped, and we don't have time for that!” I yelled, hoping that this prospect would at least give him pause.

Doc growled at me and ignored the warning, spurring his horse away from my group.

I held my ground. “Listen to me!” I screamed. I was right–I could feel it. The stone at Abergavenny was … well, there was something wrong with it. Something I couldn't identify. Its hum was a faint echo, almost completely
gone, and virtually overshadowed by the stone that was
here
. On this very battlefield.

He paused again and turned, his face angry.

“The stone at Abergavenny is gone, Doc. There's something wrong with it. Can't you feel that? Can't you feel the absence?”

He stared at me for a moment, then blinked slowly. “Jason, I don't have time for these games,” he said finally. “We ride for Abergavenny, and I don't want to hear another word about it.”

I screamed at him then. I couldn't help it. He was riding for a stone that had been moved, and–worse–letting Dresden escape in the process. Just as he had planned. And just as Tatiana and I had discussed.

I pulled my horse around, scanning the landscape desperately for the man I sought. My grandfather might be willing to let Dresden go, but I'd heard his plans–seen the madness in his eyes–and I wasn't taking any chances. We had just under an hour before the window opened, and that gave me time to find him and stop him. He had a stone here, and I was willing to bet he was riding for it now.

Suddenly my eyes found Dresden and his men thundering away, across the plateau that led from the valley. Beyond them, I could see Dresden's camp, his personal tent … and a wagon that was alarmingly familiar.

“Oh my God,” I muttered. “That overbuilt wagon.
That's
where the stone is.” I put my heels to my horse's sides and she shot forward, reading my thoughts. Paul, Reis, and Tatiana fell in beside me, as I had hoped, and we raced toward Dresden. Behind us, shouts of outrage indicated–I hoped–that my grandfather and his men followed.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tatiana yelled, ducking low over her horse. “Where are we going?”

“After Dresden!” I shouted back. “He has a stone here, and he's heading straight for it!”

“Stone?” Paul asked from my other side. “Where? How?”

“He's been traveling with the stone all along! It's under the wagon he uses. It's ridiculously heavy, over built so he can tow the stone around! Why didn't I realize that before? He's brought his ticket out here! And he's planning on taking Katherine with him. We have to get there before he leaves!”

We tore across the battlefield, weaving in and out of the traffic. Many of the men who had been fighting were now lying strewn across the ground, wounded or dead, while others were gathering their things–or the valuables of their fallen comrades–and moving off. Horses, armor, and weapons littered the ground, making the battlefield a virtual minefield of sharp weapons and traps. We rode carefully, but as quickly as we could, intent on making it to the other side. No one spared a glance for our group, now composed of Paul, Reis, Tatiana, Doc and his six Vikings, and me.

Ahead of us, I could see that Dresden and his men had reached the wagon, hitched horses to it, and taken off again. They were moving it. Towing the stone toward an old abbey in the distance. But they were moving more slowly than we were, now, and I didn't think they'd have time to unhitch the stone and make the jump before we got there. The stone itself told me that we still had twenty-four minutes before the next window opened.

I could only pray that it was right.

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I
t took several minutes to reach our destination. I pulled my horse to a sliding stop in front of the abbey and looking around, panting. There were six buildings here–four made of stone and two made of wood, and ranging in size from a three-car garage-sized building to a large three-story tower, roughly the size of our high school gymnasium back home. The buildings sat around a large courtyard with a small, overgrown cemetery. The entire place was deserted, and looked like it'd been that way for a very long time.

“Horses,” Paul muttered suddenly, pointing to the right. I glanced in that direction and gulped. Five horses stood lazily in the shade of the largest building, grazing. Dresden was here, then, somewhere, and so were his men. The wagon–and its precious cargo–was nowhere to be seen.

“And where are the riders?” Reis muttered, glancing from one end of the courtyard to the other. “In the church?”

I glanced down at my pocket watch and shook my head. Eighteen minutes. We needed to get moving. “The stone's on the other side of the abbey, right behind the tower. That's where we'll find Dresden. The quickest way to get there is right through the front door,” I replied.

“Through the building?” Paul yelped. “Isn't that a bit chancy? You know, in terms of traps and such?”

“He's right, Jason,” Reis agreed. “Can we go around?”

“Not a chance,” I snapped. “There's a marsh with an armada of thorn bushes between us and the tower. We'd never get through in time.” I was
already moving toward the church in question, unwilling to waste time. The stone was throwing me information more quickly than I could take it in, and it was taking everything I had to maintain my focus on the real world. Dresden had Sloan and Katherine near the stone, and was getting ready to jump. The stone was … unhappy with the situation.

Reis' hand shot out to stop me. “Well then I'm going first. Doc, you bring up the rear. Leave your men here to guard our backs. If Dresden gets out, orders are to shoot to kill. Got it?” Reis glanced at the Vikings and got rough nods of consent, then glanced back at me. “Okay, kid, let's go. And keep your eyes open for anything that looks wrong.”

We darted between the granite statues and tombstones of the cemetery like we were in an obstacle course, ducking down behind them whenever we could. If archers were trying to target us, the last thing we wanted to do was make it easy for them. Within twenty seconds we'd made it to the base of the stone steps that led into the church. Reis looked around to make sure we were all still in tow, then sprinted up the stairs and leaned against one of the two doors leading into the church's foyer.

We followed his lead without discussion. Reis dropped to his knees against the door and looked at me, motioning to his wrist. ‘How much time?' he mouthed.

My eyes dropped to the watch in my hand. This operation was taking longer than it should. ‘Ten minutes,' I mouthed back, hoping we didn't have far to go. The stone
felt
close, but with my newly sensitive connection to it, I couldn't be sure whether this was a physical fact.

Reis nodded at my time estimate and leaned around the door to peer inside. A second later he pulled his head sharply back out. An arrow came screaming through the doorway–right where his head had been–and lodged itself in one of the apple trees planted several feet from the base of the church.

Before I'd had time to process this action, Reis had dropped farther down and thrown himself through the two double doors, leveling his handgun as he dove and releasing several rounds into the church. He picked himself up, took a knee, aimed, and fired three more shots into the building. For several
seconds, no one moved or said a word.

Then Reis stood back up, positioning himself several feet inside the door, and waved us into the building without looking back. When we were inside, he plunged forward into the church's interior.

I glanced around, looking for the archer and any other enemies. For some reason the stained glass windows inside the foyer were covered in red cloth, making the interior difficult to see. Unfortunately, we were still able to the see the carnage that must have taken place moments before we arrived. The abbey hadn't been used by the church for some time, but a building with a working roof always has a use, and this one had become a home. Blankets and fire wood littered one corner of the church, and several bodies lay across the floor, riddled with arrows–commoners, and unarmed.

“Oh no,” Tatiana whispered.

“Dresden's men,” I returned, refusing to look at the bodies around us. The random–and needless–deaths didn't surprise me. It was what I'd come to expect from the man. They did anger me, though. These people had been innocent, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. I strode forward after Reis, ready to put an end to the carnage. The stone was calling me forward, its voice close to panicked now.

“Time?” Reis asked in a whisper when I caught him.

“Six minutes!” I replied, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Suddenly Tatiana was beside me, her hand on my arm, her eyes wide. “Did you hear that?” she asked quietly. “We're not alone.”

I paused, listening intently to the church around us, and tried to filter out the echo of the stone. I asked the question firmly, and sought the answer amidst the chaos.

“Dresden has sent men to kill us,” I replied quickly, turning to look at Reis. Behind us, I could see that Paul had darted back to the doors of the church, and was now peeking out into the courtyard.

Then he was sprinting back toward us. “You're right,” he gasped, skidding
to a stop in front of me. “There are about twenty of them, and it looks like they got past Doc's men. They're on their way in. We've got to move!”

“To the stone,” I grunted, turning back toward the front of the church. “We have to stop Dresden and get out of here, or we're done for.”

Reis took a step after me, then stopped and looked back.

“What are you doing?” Tatiana asked, yanking on his arm.

“We need to slow them down,” he replied. He placed his gun back into its holster and stepped toward a large granite statue of the Virgin Mary, which stood conveniently beside the door.

“Help me!” he shouted, putting his shoulder to the statue and pushing. “If we don't stop them, they'll get to us before we're on the stone!”

“Are you crazy?” Paul shrieked running back to help. “We have to get out of here
now!
”

Tatiana and I quickly joined Reis and Paul, and within seconds the statue, which was as large as a man, began to rock. Slowly at first, and then more obviously, until we were lifting it several inches off the floor. Just one more shove…

“They're here!” Paul shouted, glancing out the door.

At that moment, I felt a surge of strength flow through my bones, and threw all my weight behind the next push. The statue came crashing to the floor in front of the doors, blocking them entirely, and we turned to retreat.

“Four minutes!” I shouted, starting to panic. “He's out here!” We had to find Dresden, rescue Katherine, and then get to the stone to go home, and we were running dangerously short of time. I threw open the doors at the back of the church and light spilled in, blinding me momentarily. Dresden's massive wagon sat to the right, deserted, large chains hanging from the bottom of the vehicle. The stone was gone.

My eyes darted to the ground in an effort to find it. It was out there, just beyond the bushes in front of us. I didn't need to actually see it to locate it; the humming coursed through my veins and bones, telling me where it
was. It was calling me through my blood, as though it had found a long-lost friend. I took a step forward, sliding past Doc and Reis to make my way to the stone … and then Reis grabbed my shoulder with a shout of warning, and pulled me back.

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