The Water Queens (Keeper of the Water) (10 page)

Not that
that
particular strategy worked so well the first time. I just hope Harriet and Mary and the other Amazons sense that major trouble is on the way, that they can hold off the queens if we don’t win the race to camp.

More of the surrounding jungle looks familiar as we get closer. Temperatures begin to rise, the heat sweltering even to me. Rain falls in heavy sheets, making it harder to see, causing my feet to slip across the ground. I have to slow down to avoid sliding into trees and rocks. As if the weather’s not bad enough, I hear the growling and screeching of animals nearby.

Several orangutans jump from tree to tree along my path, their screeches high-pitched and angry as they hurl things in my direction. I’m surprised at first but easily dodge everything thrown at me. I’m not used to animals being
against
me but the primates aren’t the worst of my concerns. Three jaguars stand in my path, teeth bared, and I barely jump over them as they leap and snap at my feet. They turn and sprint after me, undoubtedly waiting to turn me into a meal. In ideal conditions, I’d have no problem outrunning them but the rain and wet ground slows me enough so they keep pace, at least for the first few minutes. They might share my speed but not my stamina and eventually fall back.

Violent turns of the weather and animal life can’t be coincidental. Tension hangs in the jungle as thickly as oppressive heat. I can tell there’s only a few miles until I reach camp – minutes from reaching the place that was once my home for over a hundred years – but I’m not as excited as I should be. My body becomes wracked with sharp tingling, so extreme that I barely maintain my balance. There’s no doubt in my mind that the enemy has reached camp first.

Great danger is nearby and though I want to rush into the middle of it, I need to be smart. Cassie has a lot of strong fighters willing to die for her; I can’t face them alone. I slow down to let Amelia and John catch up. The water is only a few miles away so I have to be careful about the location of the queens. Though Cassie thinks we’re dead, I can’t forget about the way Catherine the Great set such a deadly trap for us in the swamps.

I stop and search the trees, looking for anything out of the ordinary. I raise my bow and slowly sweep it from side to side, ready to fire at any sign of movement. Nobody from the Queen Clan hides nearby but that doesn’t mean all is normal. There are signs of a recent fight all around me; destroyed branches, trampled foliage, splatters of blood, even several arrows stuck in tree branches. When I hear the faintest rustling behind me, I spin and ready an arrow, a split second from firing before I recognize my traveling companions.

I hold a finger to my lips.

“They’re here,” I whisper.

Amelia and John nod. Amelia raises her own bow while John tightly grips a hunting knife. I can’t help but feel eyes watching me though I don’t see from where. I hope that’s only my nerves on overdrive. Amelia moves even slower than I do, her brow furrowing as she searches the trees.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t spotted anyone,” I tell her. “Those prissy queens couldn’t hide from me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” she whispers back. “This isn’t the Queen Clan from when Cleopatra was Keeper; I think their ambush in the Everglades proves that.”

We proceed cautiously but there’s no attack as we approach camp. While there’s no sign of Cassie or her followers, more evidence of a bloody battle is splattered everywhere. I listen for clues that the fighting is still happening but hear nothing. My stomach flips faster with every step I take. I point to either side of me as John and Amelia fan out. We cross through the final grove of trees before the small opening.

My heart races; I’m ready to fight to the death if it means stopping Cassie from taking control of the water. I’m first to reach camp and quickly aim my bow at movement in the tree directly above the water source. But what I see makes me feel nauseous, instantly taking away my breath and my strength. My bow slips from my hand and I collapse to my knees, tears erupting from my eyes before I even touch the ground…

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A mutilated body dangles from the tree, blood dripping down into the dull water source below. In my peripheral vision, I can tell that the water no longer glows and I know what this means. A part of me realizes that Cassie took the water – that I failed to stop her
again
– but I can’t take my eyes off the dead woman above. She’s all I care about at the moment and I see nothing else in the clearing that was once so important to me.

I hear the faint sound of footsteps around me and sense the arrival of two others. For all I know it could be Cassie or Catherine but I can’t take my eyes away from the dead body, which looks like it was ripped to shreds by a pack of ravenous jungle cats. But no jaguar could’ve impaled her with so many arrows. The Amazon’s condition may make her appear unrecognizable but there’s no doubt in my mind who it is. I love all my recruits as well as my fellow sisters in water but I wish the dead woman was
anyone
but who it is.

Amelia and John stop on either side of me. Amelia drops to her knees next to me; neither of us has to explain the devastation of what we see – or more specifically,
who
we see. After nearly a minute of silence, John places his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m very sorry for what happened,” he says softly.

I swat his hand away. I know he’s only trying to comfort me but I don’t care. We finally began forgiving each other during the long flight but I still can’t help thinking if any of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for his love affair with Cassie. I want to snap at him – to bring up the past again – but I at least have the common sense to curb my anger.

“You didn’t even know Jane,” I say, not taking my eyes off the kind woman who served as my de facto Mentor for so many years.

“I know she must be important to you,” John says. “After you turned Isabella into an infant, I returned and watched long enough to see that you left her in charge. I know she must’ve been a trusted ally for you to do that.”

I slowly nod. At least John was perceptive enough to realize how important Jane Austen was to me. I can’t believe Cassie so brutally killed the one woman in the group that least liked to fight, the one woman who most wanted peace. That was the reason I left her in charge, and now the reason she’s dead. She’s not the first person I’ve lost in the last few days but her death is harder than the others; it has so many more far-reaching ramifications. I’ve never felt more hopeless and defeated.

When John sits down and puts an arm around me, I don’t push him away. I realize how weak I must appear at this moment. Normally, it’s unacceptable for me to display any sort of weakness. But I suddenly can’t bring myself to exude strength; I know it’s against everything I’ve ever known as an Amazon but I don’t care what happens to me or the water or the world.

“They might still be out there,” Amelia whispers, finally looking away from Jane’s hanging body. “We should check to make sure they aren’t waiting to ambush us again.”

I shrug my shoulders but finally nod. I should tell her about my feelings before of being watched but Amelia is perceptive like me and doesn’t need to hear my warnings. Besides, I have no doubt Cassie and the water are both long gone.

Amelia doesn’t walk around more than a few minutes before she gives me more bad news.

“Jane’s not the only one who paid for resisting,” she says.

A groan escapes my lips though this news isn’t unexpected. A part of me doesn’t want to stand up, doesn’t want to learn the extent of the bad news. I don’t know how I’ll be able to handle seeing more dead Amazons, especially if the same fate happened to any of my recruits. I’m starting to wish I’d taken John’s suggestion to get away from this life. I’m tempted to stay in his arms forever, never see another horrific thing, but I owe these women too much to disrespect their memories after my decisions led to their deaths.

I struggle to my feet and cross the clearing, nearly slipping on blood soaking the ground. The battle must’ve been ferocious. I
hate
that I wasn’t here to participate. I know my recruits – especially Harriet Tubman – would be most likely to resist so I’m ashamed to feel relief when I see the battered body of a pale-skinned, blond-haired Amazon. Despite heavy bruising and her blood-covered face that make her unrecognizable, only one Amazon had hair that pale. It might not be Harriet but that doesn’t mean my recruit hasn’t suffered a terrible loss.

“Marilyn,” Amelia whispers. Her voice is laden with sadness for the tribe’s newest recruit but I wonder if she’s more concerned about the recruit brought in
before
Marilyn. I understand her worry since the third of my active recruits is nowhere to be seen. Instead of mentioning Babe, I focus on the dead woman in front of us and nod sadly.

“Harriet’s only recruit,” I say.  “Only the second recruit brought in by any of
my
recruits.”

The queens obviously held an extra grudge against the famous actress they were so certain would want to join their exclusive clique. But Marilyn stayed loyal to the true intentions of the water – while following her Mentor’s teaching – and paid the ultimate price. I never got to know the actress well but now I wish I had. In this time of great tragedy, I can’t ignore the irony that her death in the public world was rumored to be mob-related while her actual death now was the result of a different – more brutal – mob…

“Cassie only gave them one chance to join her,” John says behind me.

The statement might seem innocuous at first but those were the exact words Cassie told her queens in my earlier vision of her. I immediately turn to him. He’d probably see the shock on my face but looks from Marilyn to Jane, slowly shaking his head. I can’t tell if he’s deep in thought – if what he said was purely coincidental – or if he’s purposely trying to avoid looking at me. Either way, Amelia seems to have no suspicions about him.

“I’d be surprised if Cassie gave
one
chance to those of us who forced her to drink the water,” my recruit says.

John frowns and nods but still looks away as I openly stare at him. I realize I might be acting paranoid but I can’t ignore my instincts.

“How did you know she said that?” I ask him.

He finally makes eye contact with me but quickly looks away. Still, it’s enough of a glance for me to deem him guilty.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“You said Cassie would only offer them one shot at joining them before attacking,” I say. “How did you know that’s what she’d order her queens?”

John has that deer-in-headlights look and avoids looking at me again. I have a bad feeling that the next words out of his mouth will be a denial or an outright lie. But when he’s about to talk, he stops before saying a word, finally sighing deeply.

“I’m sure you’ll hate me for admitting this but I shared a… connection with Cassie. It’s been quite strong on occasion; at other times, it’s barely been there,” he says. “But on our flight down here, I think
I
had some of the same thoughts that
she
did.”

“Similar to the connection a Keeper has with other women in the tribe,” Amelia says.

When Cleopatra trained me in the ways of the Keeper, she’d mentioned her ability to sense the feelings of Amazons in emotionally heightened states. Unfortunately, I didn’t last long enough as Keeper to experience this. I remember a similar – albeit not as intense – connection I felt with some of my recruits, though it was nothing like this.

“I didn’t know men could experience the same things we do,” Amelia says.

“She shared water with him for years. Of
course
he’d be connected to her,” I say with more bitterness than I meant. “And these bonds are supposed to grow stronger during times of intense emotion – anger, fear, sadness… bloodlust.”

“I hope Cassie doesn’t sense that
we’re
still alive,” Amelia says.

I’ve had the same concern but I shake my head, hopeful that’s not the case.

“If I know Cassie, she’s too focused on herself and her own situation to consider anyone else,” I say.

The words no sooner leave my mouth when I sense movement in the surrounding trees. My head cocks to the side; Amelia and John instantly realize I hear something out there. Amelia and I raise our bows while John readies his knife, the three of us forming a triangular defensive position to cover all sides of the jungle. I doubt we’re enough to fight off the entire Queen Clan but I’m certainly excited to try.

From out of a thicket of trees just ahead hobbles a lone woman. My heart skips a beat as breath catches in my throat. She’s as beautiful as any Amazon but
clearly
not a member of the Queen Clan. Her skin is black as the night sky and shines with a combination of sweat and blood. She wears very little clothing but most of that is ripped, showing off her strong physique. During my best days, my body was lean and mean and strong but she’s definitely more muscular, more powerful. The rags hanging off her body might be drenched in blood but she doesn’t show a single sign of weakness. In fact, the scowl etched across her face reminds me that she doesn’t know what the word weakness means.

The sight of my strongest recruit finally fills me with relief, with the slightest bit of hope.

“Harriet!” I call out.

I love all my recruits equally, at least that’s the way I’ve always tried to make it seem. Amelia’s loyalty saved me several times during the last few days. Mary Bowser’s bravery and honor made her an inspiration to me before
and
after I was lucky enough to recruit her. And Florence Nightingale – my one recruit who lasted the shortest amount of time with the tribe – was one of the kindest souls I ever met, even though Amazon life wasn’t meant for her. But there’s always been something different about Harriet – a deeper bond with her that I can’t put into words. That’s why it’s upsetting to see her look confused and angry.

She glances from Amelia and me to John, keeping her heavy club raised and ready to strike.

“Mentor?” Harriet asks suspiciously. The scowl on her face softens, but only for a moment. “Is that really you?”

“Of course it’s me,” I say. “I’m so sorry about Marilyn and Jane and anyone else who was hurt. I’m especially sorry it took me so long to get here.”

Her jaw clenches and eyes blaze when I mention her recruit but skepticism reappears on her face.

“How I know you ain’t some ghost?” she asks before turning to John. It looks like she’s about to attack with her club; he keeps his long knife raised but knowing Harriet, that would only make her want to attack more. “This man in control of your soul? He stop you from moving on to the afterlife?”

“No, Harriet. This man is here to help us,” I say.

The idea of ghosts and people controlling souls is laughable to me, at least in my newer life. But I have to remind myself that many Amazons grew up in a time when silly superstitions were thought to be real. Harriet has never used the Internet or had access to the information I’ve had the last eighteen years. For that matter, there were no more superstitious people I’ve known than the Comanches I lived with on the Great Plains before becoming an Amazon.

“But you supposed to be dead,” she whispers.

I shake my head. Harriet’s eyes are wide; I thought it was because of anger but now I wonder if she’s actually in shock, if she’s hurt or if the battle with the queens left her confused about the past.

“No, Harriet,” I say softly. “Remember, I drank a lot of water like Cassie to go back to being a kid.”

Harriet’s eyes narrow; I can tell I’ve angered her.

“Just ‘cause you my Mentor don’t mean you talk to me like a child,” she snaps. “Course I remember everything that happened; I ain’t gone crazy. But when Cassie and those queens showed up few hours back, they said they killed you and Amelia. She said nothin’ ‘bout no man, though.”

“Cassie
thought
she killed us but we don’t die so easy,” Amelia says.

Harriet looks at her sister recruit and smiles but her sneer returns every time she looks at John.

“I sense this man got an evil past,” she says.

“You have no idea,” I say, the words escaping my lips before I have a chance to reconsider them. It’s my half-hearted attempt at a joke but nobody finds it funny, nor does John even look in my direction. Instead, he remains stone-faced as he lowers his weapon and stares Harriet in the eyes.

“I may not have been the best man in the past but I’ve changed now,” John says.

His voice oozes with sincerity and when Harriet looks my way, I nod my approval. As her mentor, I hope this is enough for her to believe him but it’s been a long time since she last saw me. While Amelia treated me like nothing changed the last few decades, this reunion with Harriet isn’t going quite as smoothly. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. Harriet has always been a tougher nut to crack; I guess that’s why I felt so close to her once she finally trusted me, though apparently that’s no longer the case.

Harriet turns to Amelia for her opinion. I expect the pilot to put in a good word for John but she merely shrugs. This entire time, I never once asked her opinion on John being with us, though I suddenly recall how uncomfortable she seemed when first meeting him. It’s going to be harder than I remembered to start thinking for the group instead of just myself…