The Rail Specter
Page 22
In doing so, he had murdered this family. And how many others?
There was laughter, heartless and cruel. It surrounded us, but was impossible to locate.
Chapter Twenty-Five
WE NEEDED A better ground to battle on, and we needed a plan. We had run out of room to flee. The ground before us changed. Instead of the usual, uneven gray slate, there was a great, dark void. The ground opened itself up, revealing a lake of inky black waters. It was so deep, it had no bottom.
I turned to find the monster that mocked us and our journey. Figures made their way toward us. More murdered victims of Geiger and his hate, hunched over and crawling along, begging for our help, I guessed.
No, these were stalking, crawling along in graceful motions, hips and shoulders rolling in perfect feline movement.
I stepped backward, and my feet slipped on the edge of the chasm. I could not look way from the cougars before me. If I did, I was sure they would pounce. Massive cougars, their tawny bodies heavily striped with soot, painted in ethereal symbols of both respect for the mighty spirit and fear of the hunter. They spread out to split our attention, to back us up to the void. One screamed. I thought of the baby that I desperately wanted in my arms and my husband at my back, standing by me, doing his best to keep me from falling into the ooze.
I was a wife. I wanted to be a mother, but I would not sacrifice the family I had for the one I wanted. If facing these cougars and atoning for my sins against the dragon would make things right again then I would have them both!
“No!” I screamed, “You will not take what is mine!” I shook.
My outburst made them pause. They stopped, their bellies nearly touching the ground as they stared at me, taking my measure.
If where we walked was the land, then the void behind us was the great river of this land. We could go no further without crossing. I reached down and touched the great void. It was sticky and cool, like black mud from the banks of the Thames.
Papa was right. Our destination did not matter, we were on a journey. We had to transition from one place to another. I was afraid I knew that lay below. I had seen the monster the Cheyenne were wary of deep in the waters. We would have to be allowed passage. I turned my back on the cougars. Whatever harm they could do to me was already being done. They were keeping my babies from me.
My heart grew cold and I felt squeezed so tightly, I couldn’t breathe. I fell to my knees. The cats behind us, the void before us, and somewhere in all the emptiness waited Geiger—the devil—and his monster and all the people they had murdered. My skin felt as if it was being pierced all over by tiny needles, while my mind was being stabbed by daggers. I struggled to breathe and the stony ground dug into my knees, while the ruby in my pocket dragged me toward the cold, black emptiness in front of me.
The black ooze bubbled and frothed. Waves from the center caused the level to rise and move toward us. I scrambled backward but there was nowhere to go. Two sets of horns broke the surface, one set jutting forward, straight like spears, the other set curved back like a ram’s, over two sets of eyes. It was a great serpent rising from the dark void. It was the monster from the painting from He’heeno’s cabin. It was Mehne, but that was not all I saw, it also bore an uncanny resemblance to Xihuan-Lung, the dragon from China.
Of all the spirits painted on stretched hides in her cabin, Mehne, the water-serpent, filled me with dread. The others were helpers of men, but this one had a fickle nature. The monsters were never painted, to do so would attract their attention. Mehne’s nature was as tempestuous as the waters. She could bless or curse you as she pleased.
A shape slowly materialized in the air around us and with it came a horrible sound. Screaming. So much screaming. The screaming grew to a piercing crescendo and, though it was feminine, there was also something distinctly inhuman about their cry, something warped and twisted, crying in rage and pain.
“Wendigo,” I called to the monster, “I know you for what you are.”
It stopped, the skeletal head cocked to one side, staring at me.
“Kill her!” Geiger commanded.
The wendigo continued to look at me, clearly intrigued. It stepped forward, bobbing, stalking, drawing ever closer. A part of me wanted to run, but I had to control my fear. Fear was what it wanted. Fear was what the monster fed upon.
I could not win it over. I could not hope to make it understand. Such creatures are not for understanding. Such monsters are beyond understanding. One cannot hope to explain compassion to a shark, or to a snake. The concept is beyond them. But the failing is not with them, it is merely a flaw in man to try to force that which makes us human upon inhuman things.
No, this was not even a tool of the devil, as I once believed.
The devil is a fallen angel, created by God, and therefore blessed with all the knowledge of what he is and what he lacks. An angel, even one hurled from Heaven, is a true higher being, able to feel pity, able to feel sorrow, able to love, able to hate.
The wendigo was merely a monster. As a monster, it can only feel pleasure and pain, but what it delights in the most is the hunt. When it hunts, it feeds. The consumer of flesh, life-taker, both a murderer and a destroyer of lives, its names were so fitting. The cold, empty eyes watched me, waiting to see if I would run. For an instant, I wanted to. My heart leapt like a hare starting from the brush. The wendigo sensed it. The empty eyes kindled, flashing the way a coyote’s eyes did when caught by firelight.
I forced my fear down. I grew calm, and so did the monster. Interesting.
Geiger needed a strong body he could offer to the wendigo. One like my husband’s. But Nate had a good heart. He would not be turned by this monster’s evil taint. So long as good men remained, then evil could not find a home.
There was definitely a shortage of good men. The world of man is a sinful place and when good men were gone, it would grow darker still.
The eyes rekindled. A buffet of prey was laid out before it. All it needed was a body that could not be turned by the goodness, the spirit, of man.
The monster must have read my thoughts. It laughed.
Then, as soon as the horrific noise had come, it was gone. Madness. The wendigo made the sounds of madness if madness had a voice. I needed several breaths before I could speak again. My hands shook from fear.
“Your master has given us the key to your undoing,” I challenged. “You thrive on fear. You are banished through love.”
“I have no master!” it said, using many murdered voices that echoed together in a horrible cacophony of noise.
Nate took a step toward the wendigo. It turned and snarled at him with its fleshless face, its fangs bared in malice, the sound spewing forth filled with pure hatred. It slammed its bone hands into Nate, throwing him to the ground.
Nate may have distracted the wendigo, but had I struck a nerve.
“Mr. Geiger believes he is your master.” I forced a singsong tone to my voice. Just how far could one mock a monster? “Geiger struck a bargain with you and he has the upper hand.”
“The bitch lies!” Geiger snarled. “Kill her!”
“See how he commands you, ‘kill her.’ Are you not your own master? How long were you your own master before he dared call you to him with the promise of a new form?” I taunted.
“Kill her!” Geiger said again.
Nate rose and threw himself at Geiger. The two of them tumbled to the ground.
I scanned the landscape. We were on the wrong side of a scorched orange sky, on a flat colorless land. There was no cover.
We needed faith. We needed to ask for compassion to see this through to the end. We needed forgiveness. I needed forgiveness.
“Nate. I’m sorry I kept the ruby from you. I thought I was doing what was right.”
I turned to Mehne. She rose up from the black waters.
He’heeno said Mehne’s favor could be bought with offerings. What did I have that the water-serpent might be interested in? I had my wedding ring and the
ruby. We would need the ruby to fight the wendigo again. I could not part with. Then I realized I did have a gift, an offering that meant more to me than anything else. I had given it away to the most important man in my life before I had met Nate. It was in my pocket now. I had set it in my papa’s pocket before we buried him, and Papa had returned it to me here. He knew we would have need of it before the end of our journey.
Three inches long and slightly curved. A dragon’s tooth.
“Mehne,” I said in a voice stronger than I felt. “I give you the greatest gift I have. A piece of a dragon, a serpent long turned to stone.” I pulled the tooth from my pocket. She turned her attention to me. For a brief moment, it was not Mehne but Xihuan-Lung; the Chinese dragon readied herself and took a deep breath. Her fire would melt Nate and me. It would murder us where we stood. If we were lost here, we were lost for all eternity, He’heeno had promised as much.
Mehne looked down at us. She growled, baring her stiff reptile lips. There was a gap in her teeth, behind a lower fang. Mehne was missing a tooth. I felt the tooth in my hand. It did not feel like stone any more but warm bone with a pearly covering of enamel where the tooth would erupt from the serpent’s jaw. I stared.
With trembling hands, I held it out. The tooth rose from my palm and up toward the water-serpent. It was driven, called by its mistress. It floated into her jaw and settled in her mouth in the empty socket behind the lower fang.
Tears clouded my vision. I had cursed us by desecrating the grave of Xihuan-Lung. I hugged myself, feeling the same ache that had nearly crippled me, reminding me each month that there would be no baby to bless our marriage. These tigers, these striped cats, they were not in my head, Chelan had seen them. He’heeno had seen them, too. We needed to beg a favor of the Great Hunter. He was the master of all the beasts of the world. He could command them away.
“I am sorry. I am sorry for the wrong I did you.” I didn’t have the strength to cry. “You killed him. I mean when you—she—the Xihuan-Lung—” I didn’t know how to explain myself. “Please, what can I call you?”
The dragon stared at me.
I licked my dry lips, my words barely more than a whisper. “Xihuan-Lung killed Nate when the arrow was moved. I broke the skeleton apart to save him. I would say it was to protect all the world, but that is a lie. I did it for my husband. I love him, and the truth is, I would do it again. I would not do it to save the world. I would do it to save Nate. The world already took my papa. It will take my mama. It won’t let me have a baby. The world is a horribly cruel and unfair place. If I am to be damned for saving the one person I cannot live without, then I accept that I am cursed for my role in it.”
I couldn’t stand anymore. If the wendigo was going to come for us here, it would find us and the horned serpent. “I never meant to harm you. And I never meant to keep the ruby. I didn’t want anyone else to find the key and let Xihuan-Lung loose upon the world. She—I mean, you —would consume it and turn it to a graveyard. The only way I could keep Nate and the world safe from Xihuan-Lung was to keep this.” I held the ruby out.
“A dragon that has fallen out of balance is a terrifying monster indeed.” Mehne’s voice filled my mind, comforting and warm.
“I have had my fill of terrifying monsters,” I said crossly.
“Hou Yi understood this. He was a mighty hunter. The ancient dynasty of Xia understood this. The Great Chief of the Cheyenne understood this. It is the burden of the mighty hunters to cull the strong, legendary beasts from the land as their coming foretells great and terrible events. The people call them fools. The people call them prophets. The people call them heroes. In time, they become myths or legends. We forget they were once mortals with lives of their own.
“Then, in time, new heroes arise,” the dragon continued. “Do you know why the ruby is the center of the key to Xihuan-Lung’s grave?”
Its beauty could not be the true reason despite its obvious appearance. I did not have the stomach to be witty with a god, so I let it pass.
“A key and lock are strongest when it is formed from pieces of a whole. The physical remains of the dragon, Xihuan-Lung, is set apart from the rest of the world of men, locked away. The only way to access it is with a part of her.”
I instantly knew what the ruby must be. The ruby made my Tarot spells more powerful, it throbbed in my touch, it made me feel strong and brave and I was loath to part with it for even an instant. According to MeiLin, Xihuan-Lung fell out of balance giving of herself to men. She loved them too much. The ruby itself tried to pull me to the earth, pull me to the core of the land. A ruby, red as blood. A ruby that made my magic strong and seemed to pulse in my hands. I could use it to drive a creature of hatred away. What was stronger than hate? Love. “The ruby is a piece of her broken heart.”
The dragon nodded her massive horned head. “She and I, we are one.”
My voice cracked and broke several times. “Then I would return to you what was stolen. Mankind was not ready for and not worthy of such a gift. We love deeply but our love is rarely that perfect.”
“I see true love before me,” she said. “It is rare, but mortals are capable.”
I thought I was too exhausted to cry. I was wrong. A hot tear of joy slid down my cheek.
The oppressive weight of the ruby eased, and I no longer felt pressed to the earth, drawn ever toward the center of the world. Mehne raised herself up, exposing her chest. Her breast gleamed. I slipped into the inky black, sticky waters. The waters came to my waist. I approached her chest, and like a giant magnet, the ruby drew me into her. I waded in, letting the power of the ruby pull me to her chest.
I pressed the stone to her breast and it faded from view. For a moment, the dragon’s eyes glowed, then faded. I took a deep breath, the first I could remember in a very long time. I was glad to be rid of the crushing feeling in my chest.
Geiger screamed in rage.
Nate gave me a smile, warm but welcome across his pale face. At least this would no longer be between us.
“You have made my heart whole again,” the dragon said, “and so I will do the same for you. The cat will hunt you no more. But you are in a place you do not belong.”
I turned. The cat that had stalked us all through this place with unceasing measured steps, bowed. The cat was a spirit. It was a servant. Mehne was a god. The spirit that had haunted my steps and denied me my heart’s desire took her leave; the tiger that had hunted my shadow disappeared like smoke on the wind.
Mehne was right. We did not belong here.
We still had to fight to get home.
But there was still one obstacle in our way: the devil and his monster. At least her heart was now beyond his reach.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I TURNED TOWARD the nameless dread that surrounded us.
“How did you come to be here?” I demanded.
Laughter, menacing and mocking, surrounded us. I raised my chin. Geiger, through his monster, had murdered too many people. I was not afraid of him, anymore. I had seen too much.
The air shimmered. He was not afraid of me either. Geiger, tall and dark, square shouldered and polished on one side, solidified in the distance. In this place, his silver arm had an ethereal quality, gleaming with an otherworldly radiance. Anything else glowing this way would seem holy, sacred; this was obscene.
Geiger had been a handsome man once, before hate and indifference turned him and poisoned him. “Like everything else in this world, foolish wagtail, it is all about leverage.”
I should have been offended he called me a whore. Though, honestly, if that was all he could think of to insult me, it was laughable.
“You made one of the Cheyenne set you on the path,” Nate surmised.
“My pet can be quite persuasive,” Geiger hissed.
So Geiger had forced He’heeno to send him here with the wendigo. He must have threatened her family, or her people. There was too much truth in him for it to be otherwise: too much pride and arrogance in his wo
rds.
“How?” Nate demanded.
“We have come to an arrangement, that is all you need to know,” Geiger said.
“Why would a creature like that make a pact with you?” Nate scoffed.
He sneered at us. “Because ‘a creature like that’ is a monster from the old world. It is ready to enter into the new, but it needs a little assistance in making the transition. Don’t worry, it is a matter you are not ready to understand.”
“Geiger,” I said, “believe me, old world demons are nothing to be trifled with,” I said, remembering the Lamia and her flute made of a human thigh bone that called dead men from their graves. “They are more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”
“As I remember, you are afraid of men seeking power,” he said.
“I have no fear of powerful men,” I said.
“Close your mouth!” Geiger was beside himself that I dared to speak to him.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Nate’s voice was rough and dangerous.
“No, you have no idea who you’re dealing with!” Geiger said. “I am the master of the wendigo. I can give him a body, eternal and lasting in the real world. I have the only thing he wants.”
The air behind him wavered, dark and ominous. A dark chill coiled around me, cold and palpable, making my palms sweat. We were too close to the wendigo to run. It would catch us in a flash. Too many tattoo symbols on my flesh were still burned away and unusable after I had channeled power through them against the wendigo.
My mind raced. What could I use to burn him and force him away again? Before The Sun, The Moon, and The Star had forced the wendigo from the Tate home. Outside the Carey home, The Lovers and The Chariot had worked, but only because Nate had been in mortal danger.
Could I command him away by using The Emperor, by forcing my will upon the wendigo and, by virtue of authority alone, compel him to depart? I chewed my lip and decided probably not. I wasn’t willing take that gamble, even if I added Strength to it for courage and control.