The Water Queens (Keeper of the Water) (4 page)

I give up a faint smile before looking down at my mother’s body in the open grave.

“First, we finish here,” I say.

Without another word, I drop to my knees and begin to push dirt into the hole. Amelia and John start to help but I can tell they’re already exhausted from so much digging. I tell them this is something I must do on my own; they don’t argue with me and sit off to the side. As dirt slowly begins to cover my mother’s head and body, tears stream down my face. I don’t know if the exertion of manual labor is making me tired or if it’s the hollow feeling inside knowing I’ll never see my mother again. Either way, the more I fill in the grave, the fewer tears I shed. I dig faster and faster as I become angrier and angrier. By the time the grave is completely filled in, I’m punching dirt against the ground, causing my feet to shake beneath me.

John touches my shoulder and I instinctively push him away; he nearly falls into the water. I
should
apologize but he doesn’t need it. He walks toward me and puts his hand on me again. His touch – the second one that proves I
can’t
push him away – eases my anger. In an instant, my legs go weak and John has to catch me before I collapse. He wraps his arms around me and lowers me to the ground; I don’t fight his touch, don’t fight that he continues holding me.

I feel like I
should
cry but no more tears come. My body and soul and heart and mind are too tired to do anything but listen to the rhythmic beating within John’s chest. I finally struggle to stand but John holds me even tighter. I’m too weak to break his grip.

“We need to leave now,” I say.

“It’s the middle of the night,” John says. “You need more time to recover. We
all
need another night of rest.”

“But they’re getting farther away,” I say. “Cassie and her queens already have a day’s lead to get to the water.”

“It’s a long journey to the jungle, Mentor,” Amelia intercedes. “And we’re never going to make it in this condition. Besides, the queens don’t have someone that can
borrow
a plane like I can.”

This brings the first genuine smile to my face in a while, though the thought of flying again turns my stomach; needless to say, I haven’t had many great experiences in the skies.

“I’m surprised those prissy queens found their way through the jungle to this swamp in the first place,” I say.

I remember the way Cassie and her Queen Clan spent most of their jungle time in close proximity to the water source; rare were the times when they volunteered for patrol detail.

“A lot of things changed since you’ve been gone,” Amelia says, not exactly making me feel better about staying put. “And don’t forget that Catherine went on several recruiting trips.”

“How can I forget?” I say.

Catherine the Great accompanied my mentor, Anne Bonny, on
both
occasions I was recruited. Though Cassie was obviously the brains and leader of the Queen Clan, Catherine was the one I’d least want to fight.

“Catherine and the others evolved a lot once Cassie was banished,” Amelia tells me. “The queens remained a tight-knit group but didn’t hover around the water as much as they used to. They ventured farther into the jungle and avoided the rest of us. For a time, we thought Isabella’s absence would end up being good for them; they seemed to grow closer to nature than ever before. Your recruits and I spent most of our time near the water since Jane was left in charge. Whenever the queens showed back up at camp, there was a tense truce between them and us. Harriet had no problem voicing her distrust of them – ”

“Especially Catherine, I’m sure,” I interrupt. Harriet Tubman and Catherine the Great despised each other from the first day they met; thinking about that makes me miss my recruit even more.

Amelia smiles. “
Especially
Catherine. But Jane always welcomed them with open arms, always included them when she handed out small amounts of water every few years. Our de facto Keeper hoped she could unify everyone in troubled times. But there was still a clear division between us and them. We often saw them whispering to some of the other Amazons, probably trying to recruit them.”

“Any of the others bite at their offer?” I ask.

Amelia yawns as she slides farther down the tree she’s leaning against. Her yawn is contagious and I find my own eyes barely able to stay open. My recruit shrugs.

“Who knows?” she asks. “They seemed to go after Marilyn pretty hard. They must’ve assumed she’d jump at the chance since Hollywood actresses are the closest thing to modern-day queens. I guess the queens didn’t realize how close Marilyn truly was with her mentor. The actress told Catherine the Great that she was happy to stay away from any feuds; she just wanted to enjoy the quiet, solitary life of an Amazon and do her part to protect the water. She turned out to be a lot tougher than most of us thought, just like Harriet always said.”

I have so many more questions about what happened at camp while I’ve been gone. But I don’t have the strength to ask and Amelia doesn’t have the strength to answer. She no sooner finishes her story about Marilyn when she slumps further down and I hear light snoring.

John’s arms are still wrapped tightly around me but now we lay on the ground. His arm isn’t the most comfortable pillow but it’s still better than sleeping with my head in the dirt, which doesn’t seem to bother him. I’m the last one to succumb to exhaustion as my thoughts continue running rampant. I hate that I’m laying here instead of going after Cassie but vow to turn this anger into motivation; I don’t know how it’s possible, but I
will
find a way to stop Cassie, even if it means having to kill her.

Sleep doesn’t seem like it should be possible but before I know, my eyes close and my thoughts drift away to nothingness…

CHAPTER FOUR

The distant sound of buzzing and croaking grows louder, slowly coming into focus as I emerge from sleep. It’s hot and humid, sticky, stifling heat totally enveloping my body. My clothes cling to my body with sweat but there’s almost something comforting and familiar about the heat. It makes me want to relax and allow my mind to drift back to sleep.

But then I remember everything that happened. I open my eyes to the mid-morning sun high above, the dirt and ground beneath my head. This isn’t the first time I’ve woken in a rough environment in the middle of nowhere. The heat and insects remind me of being back in the jungle. I think about the Amazons that once lived here so long ago; I’m only a few feet from where Celeste had once been Keeper. I’ve been so wrapped up in my mother’s death that I’ve thought very little about my other loss. But it’s almost fitting that this was the same place where she died, strangely comforting.

I don’t feel better for long. I imagine Queen Isabella of Castille slithering her way into this camp, regaling Cleopatra and the rest of the Amazons with horror stories about being abandoned by her royal husband and sold to thieving pirates. For a moment, I’m annoyed with Celeste, annoyed that she hadn’t saw through Cassie’s lies. The Amazons could’ve put an end to her terror before it had the chance to begin, especially if they dealt with her the same harsh way they did other intruders to camp. But for that matter, I also stumbled close to the Amazons at one point in my previous life and they didn’t punish me.

Besides, Cassie duped me too many times growing up for me to expect others to see through her.

I slowly sit up and look around the haze hanging above the swamp. My strength hasn’t completely returned but I feel better than yesterday, well enough to get out of here and chase after the queens. Apparently Amelia and John have the same thought. Once again I feel like the lazy one since I’m the last to wake. Amelia is already on the airboat a few feet into the water. She’s fiddling with the airboat’s fan but she’s by herself. I quickly glance around the rest of the inlet but see nobody else. My heart sinks.

“Where’s John?” I ask, more panic in my voice than I intended. My cheeks blush, not that anyone could notice in the heat; it’s still embarrassing to admit my concern about a
man
to a fellow Amazon.

Amelia looks up from her work and points toward the other airboat farther away, just beyond the bluer water. The second boat is empty and I’m worried about John spending time in the swamp water near it. Hopefully the gators stay away during the hotter parts of the day. The other airboat is more destroyed than the one Amelia works on so I wish John wouldn’t take such a risk being over there. Then I realize he’s probably checking for any sign of Celeste. He must’ve done this while I was sleeping to spare me anything he
did
or
didn’t
find. I don’t bother asking Amelia about it and she doesn’t bother bringing it up.

“John salvaged some materials from the other boat,” Amelia says. “This would be much easier if I had the right tools and intact parts but I
should
get this thing working enough to get us back to the mainland. Putting aside everything awful that’s happened, trying to get this thing running is pretty fun. Reminds me of the old days working on Electra. We used to make repairs with far less than this.”

Between Amelia’s ‘fun’ repairs and John’s swim, I can’t stop myself from feeling annoyed. I know these two aren’t enjoying themselves but they don’t seem to be as impatient as I feel.

“We don’t have time for this,” I say. “Maybe we should try walking out of here. The water’s not so deep.”

“The water’s not too deep
here
and there’s not much other dry ground,” Amelia says. “It’s a long way back to the mainland; a lot of alligators between here and safety. I don’t want to think what would happen if we made a wrong turn on foot. Trust me, I know a thing or two about what happens after making a wrong turn.”

I know she’s right but don’t want to admit it. Before I have the chance to head out on my own, John wades back through the blue water. He smiles at me but must be able to tell I’m not in the mood.

“Celeste?” I ask.

He frowns and slowly shakes his head. “I
did
find the body of a woman with an arrow sticking out of her throat.”

“Must be Elizabeth the First,” Amelia says. “Catherine mentioned you hit her with a shot, Mentor.”

Before being shot myself, I fired an arrow toward the area where we were being ambushed. A part of me feels bad for killing a fellow Amazon, though I’m sure the Queen Clan feels no such guilt about what they did to Celeste and my mother. Suddenly I wish I’d taken aim for Cassie instead.

I shake my head at the thought, which causes light tingling in my body. I have to remind myself that Cassie is
still
the Keeper, whether that idea makes me sick or not.

“I also found these,” John says.

He lays a bow and several arrows on the ground, as well as a gun. The sight of the metallic weapon appalls me; when I look at Amelia, she appears just as disgusted.

“The queens are modernizing already,” I say.

“Didn’t take them long to abandon more of our traditions,” Amelia adds, though she doesn’t look up from her work.

“We’re lucky they didn’t use guns in the ambush,” John says. “I wonder if we’ll be so lucky next time.”

I pace along the inlet’s small strip of land, glancing at the airboat every few minutes, growing increasingly frustrated that repairs take so long. John tries to walk and talk to me at first, tries to distract me since he senses I’m like a caged animal. But it’s not long before he leaves me alone and sits in the shade of a tree, where he fiddles with a stick. It seems like he should be doing something more to help but I guess my pacing doesn’t accomplish much either.

Just when I’m about to jump in the water and push the damn boat back to the mainland, Amelia finally stands and wipes her hands on her clothes.

“Let’s give it a whirl,” she says.

The engine starts on the first try. Most of the fan is busted but Amelia pieced together enough scrap material for it to blow air. It’s obvious we won’t break speed records but Amelia gives me the thumbs-up.

“Time to go!” she calls out.

I’ve been waiting
hours
for this moment but now that it’s arrived, I feel terrible leaving my mother’s grave. John carefully walks around it but not before kneeling and shoving something in the ground. I see that he’s fashioned his stick into a cross. It’s small and simple but at least signifies my mother’s final resting place. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and avoid eye contact with John so he won’t see me cry. He stops and kisses me gently on the forehead.

“Take your time,” he says before climbing aboard the boat.

I look down at the small cross and don’t know what to think or say. It’s the second hastily dug grave for a parent that I’ve stood over in a week. My mother and father are both dead; strangely enough, this thought brings me a small degree of solace. At least they’re together again, somewhere. There’s so much I should say, so many thanks I want to give, so many promises of vengeance I want to vow. Instead, my voice barely has the strength to mutter two words.

“Goodbye, Mom.”

I join them aboard the airboat and without another word, Amelia increases power to the fans and we slowly inch away. Tiny pieces of ‘fixed’ fan break away and skip across the water behind us – while the acrid smell of smoke escapes the engines – but we pick up more speed than a boat in this condition should. I search the water for any sign of Celeste but she’s nowhere to be seen. I glance at the trees surrounding the inlet, the queens’ hiding spots for their ambush. I’m pissed at myself for failing to sniff out the surprise attack, though I have to give credit to Catherine and the others. They weren’t exactly battlefield generals but their pasts as royalty probably afforded them more exposure to battle tactics than my life on the plains. Besides, I’d been so focused on trying to save Cassie – so focused on
Jack
being my enemy – that I hadn’t considered defending against an enemy I didn’t know existed.

John senses my anger and tries to take my hand. I know he means well but I can’t stop myself from pushing him away.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” he says.

It annoys me how well John can read my mind. Am I really that weak around him?

“Actually, I was just imagining what your battle against the Amazons here must’ve been like hundreds of years ago,” I lie. That thought actually just popped into my mind. “I was wondering how Cassie must’ve reacted when you limped back to her and told her the plans you made together failed.”

John finally backs away. I know how much he hates when I mention his past with Cassie. Most times I convince myself that his past doesn’t bother me – that I’ve forgiven him for the person he
used
to be – but in moments like this I’m not so certain
what
I believe. All I know is I’ve finally succeeded in hurting him. I’m pleased with myself yet
hate
myself at the same time. John has been so good to me – risked his life so many times for me – but I can’t stop being such a mean bitch. I want to apologize but I’m too angry to find the right words. Instead, I turn away from him, the only sound coming from the whining airboat fan and the swamp.

Within minutes, the small inlet – as well as the former water source, my mother’s final resting place and Celeste’s watery grave – fades into the distance behind us.