by K M Martinez
“Mel and Charlotte aren’t here either,” Victor replied.
“Victor!” Andrew shouted. “There’s something over here you need to see.”
Victor and Killian ran toward Andrew.
As they got nearer, Victor saw what he was shouting about. A man was tied to a tree, hanging by his arms. His chin was at his chest, so Victor couldn’t see his face, but he could see the symbol drawn on the man’s chest. The Traitor’s Mark.
Killian hissed at the sight.
When they reached Andrew and the traitor, Victor picked up the man’s head by his hair to get a look at his face, but it was so swollen and covered in blood, he still wasn’t sure who it was. Still, he wore Janso purple, so it could only be one of three people, and he was too small to be Gale Norris.
“Is it Anton or his Second?”
“It’s Anton,” Andrew said. “His Second is lying over there with his guts hanging out.”
“Is he alive or dead?”
“Alive,” said Killian. “Just out cold.”
“Oh, and check out these knots,” said Andrew.
Victor looked closer. “It’s the Endless Knot.” He’d recognize that knot anywhere—it was a specialty of Tío Jorge’s. Victor remembered his uncle trying to teach him and his siblings and cousins how to tie it. He, Gabe, Thrash, and Charlotte had thought it too complicated and left it alone to try another time, but Mel wouldn’t quit until she got it right. All day she sat on the ground with a piece of rope, trying to figure it out. She did, of course. And after that, it seemed there were no knots that got the best of her.
The others had come over to see what was going on as well—all except Siva and Olivia, who stayed with the bodies. Everyone glared at Anton in anger. The mark on Anton’s chest probably had something to do with it.
“Is that Anton?” Gabe said. His look was one of pure hate.
“Yep,” Victor said. “Mel strung him up like this.”
“How can you be sure?”
“The Endless Knot. It was her.”
“Or Charlotte,” said Thrash.
“Well,” said Victor, “let’s wake him up and find out. Maybe we can get some answers about what happened here.”
Someone produced a water bottle, and Victor poured the water over Anton’s face. The Janso woke with a start, coughing and spluttering, asking to be cut loose. It took him a long moment to realize the people looking back at him with stony eyes were in no hurry to assist him.
“Oh shit,” Gabe said to Anton. “Those are probably the words that are going through your mind right now.”
“And you’d be right,” said Victor. “’Cause I’m going to be all up in your shit.”
Anton looked from one Mendez to the other with dread. But then the distant sound of a helicopter approached, and his expression turned smug. “Looks like your time’s run out,” he said.
Victor glared at Anton. The man looked back at him with a ghastly smile—swollen face, missing teeth, and all.
“I know Mel tied you up,” Victor said. “I know she drew that mark on your chest. And I’m pretty sure I know why.”
Anton’s face dimmed, and that cemented Victor’s suspicions.
He turned away and walked over to Siva, who was still weeping beside her uncle's body.
“Brotha,” Gabe said. He and Killian were trying to keep up. “Where you going?”
“I gotta ask Siva something.”
“Now’s not the time,” Gabe said firmly, grabbing Victor’s arm. “I don’t want you upsetting her more than she already is.”
“I have to,” Victor said. “For Mel and Charlotte.”
“And Cori,” said Killian firmly.
“And Cori,” repeated Victor. “Those Malum came from Inter Spatium Abyssus. The only way they could have gotten here is with a gateway stone. There are only two people I know who have a stone, and one of them is Sapienti Reddy, who’s now lying over there with a knife wound in his back. I’ll bet my life Anton killed him for his stone—kinda like someone tried to take Mel’s. Anton is Eighth Clan. So is whoever attacked Mel. It’s all connected.”
“How do you know they didn’t take Mel’s stone instead of Sapienti Reddy’s?” Killian asked.
Victor was glad that Killian didn’t ask about the Eighth Clan—that meant he already knew about them. “I suppose I don’t,” he said after a moment. “So let’s check the person who’s here, and we’ll go from there.”
“Okay, you’re right,” Gabe said, looking at Siva. “But… let me ask. Okay?”
Victor nodded.
As they approached Siva and Sapienti Reddy’s body, the second helicopter touched down. Its rotor swirled the air around them, sending leaves and grass whirling. Siva’s eyes were red and her lips were swollen. Gabe kneeled down next to her and took her in his arms. He spoke directly in her ear to be heard over the helicopter, and Siva drew away from him to look him in the eyes. Then she leaned over to check her uncle’s pockets. When she finished, she started crying anew, and Gabe took her in his arms again. He shook his head at Victor and Killian.
So, no stone on Sapienti Reddy. That could only mean someone had taken it—and Victor was betting it was Anton. Mel wouldn’t have tied him with the Traitor’s Mark on his chest otherwise. It was Anton.
The passengers of the second helicopter disembarked. Among them were Sapientis O’Shea, Zhu Li, Wershall, and Kelser, along with a few members of each clan. Grandma Mari was there too, as was Tío Jorge. The newcomers looked around the clearing as if in shock. Their reactions ranged from outrage, to tears, to dead silence.
Victor ran over to his grandmother. “They’re not here,” he said. “Mel and Charlotte aren’t her. We’ve checked all the… the bodies.”
“Oh, thank you Lord,” Grandma Mari said quietly, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she was her usual composed self. “Is there anyone here who can tell us what happened?”
“Actually, there is one survivor. Anton. I was just about to question him when you and the other Sapientis arrived.”
****
“Unfortunately, I can’t question him as I would like with all these watching eyes,” Victor said.
“How did he come to be like this?” Grandma Mari asked.
“It seems Mel worked him over quite a bit.”
“Mel did this?” asked Sean O’Shea.
Victor tried not to be offended by the surprised note in his voice. Instead he explained his findings, including the knot, Sapienti Reddy’s missing stone, and his belief that Anton had opened the gate into Inter Spatium Abyssus.
As he finished, a voice shouted, “Oh my God! Someone cut him down!” Rudolph Kelser had finally made it over to this side of the clearing, and he was staring in horror at Anton.
Victor looked evenly back at the man. “Cut him down yourself.”
Kelser gave Victor a look of disbelief before realizing that no one else was any more sympathetic. With a frown, he unsheathed his sword, walked over, and sliced the rope. Anton fell heavily to the ground, and Kelser rolled him over.
“Who did this to you?”
Anton whispered something in Kelser’s ear. Kelser looked down at Anton’s chest, apparently noticing the mark for the first time. But when he attempted to wipe it away, Victor roughly pulled him back.
“I am the Sapienti of Clan Moors,” Kelser said in a low, furious voice. “You do not put your hands on me.”
“Do not remove the mark,” Victor said, unmoved.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” Kelser said.
Grandma Mari intervened. “Rudolph, we are facing an entire field of dead descendants, and the only one alive has a Traitor’s Mark. You have to see that someone left that message for us to find so we may protect our people. Removing it before the others can witness it is denying our people a truth.”
Kelser glared at Grandma Mari. “You know what I see? I see that three of my clansmen are dead. I see Ferus, Tam, Ivor, Mayme, Moors, and Janso descendants dead. But you know wh
at I don’t see? I don’t see any dead Kales. Every clan has been touched by death but Clan Kale. That is what I see, and that is true.”
“I don’t see my granddaughters breathing either, Rudolph!” Grandma Mari snapped. “To say I’m concerned about them is an understatement. I wish them alive and well. I wish them breathing life on this earth until they’re old and gray. But until they’re in my presence, in my arms, and in one piece, I’m making no assumptions about their well-being. The only thing we know for certain is that this man”—she pointed at Anton—“bears the mark of a traitor. It stands to reason that he’s responsible for all that’s happened here. Others should bear witness to that.”
Victor was surprised that the argument had escalated so quickly, and was even more surprised that Grandma Mari and Rudolph Kelser would display their difference of opinion publicly. Sapientis were known for hashing out their disagreements in private and displaying unity in public.
“Stands to reason?” Rudolph Kelser yelled. “We know nothing about who marked him! It could be a ploy! To raise suspicion against an innocent man!”
“He is not so innocent, with his acts of separation. I’ve told you—”
“Yes, you’ve told us all about your suspicions,” Rudolph Kelser said. “Yet you have no proof. Just fairy tales.”
“Look around you, Rudolph,” Grandma Mari said in a low, cold voice. “There’s enough proof here to make you weep, if you only had the sense to open your eyes.”
Sapienti O’Shea cut in. “Those Malum, for instance. How do you suppose they got here?”
“That is a question to be discussed behind closed doors,” said Sapienti Wershall. He looked haggard, his shaggy blond hair was a mess, and his face held a hint of pain. “For now, let us not fight. There will be plenty of time for talk. Now, let us mourn.”
“This is not the time to mourn! We need to know what happened here!” Sapienti O’Shea said. “The dead all have families back at camp. They will want to know why these descendants have been murdered.”
And when they find out, they will want revenge, Victor thought.
“I agree,” said Sapienti Li. He rubbed his goatee tiredly. He looked like he’d aged years since the helicopter landed. “We will find answers, and then we will mourn—and heal. Let us untie the Janso and give him the medical attention he needs. But I do not believe we should remove the mark.”
“I agree,” said Sapienti O’Shea.
“As do I,” said Grandma Mari, giving Sapienti Kelser a hard look. “That’s the majority vote of the five living Council members. The mark stays.”
Sapienti Kelser made a disgusted sound, but relented.
“And what of the guests?” asked Sapienti Wershall. “Descendants may be trusted with what happened here, but guests cannot.”
“We’ll have to send them home,” said Sapienti O’Shea. “No outsiders should witness what we’ve seen here today.”
“Yes,” said Grandma Mari. “We’ll have that done immediately. Victor, radio Luce. Have him start evacuating the guests.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Victor said.
“And someone untie that dog.” Grandma Mari cast one last look of disdain at Anton before going over to inspect the fallen Malum.
Chapter Sixteen
The instant Mel stepped through the portal, she felt the pressing of heat on her bones. The air was so thick and hot, it drove her mind wild and her body taut. She felt at any moment she could act with an aggression that would destroy not only her but everything in her vicinity. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, amplifying her aggression, driving her toward insanity.
She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and kept breathing deeply until her body and mind relaxed. When she opened her eyes, she still felt the oppressive heat driving her to madness, but now it was like music from another room.
The tracks in the dirt, both human and demon, were easy to spot. But they went off in many directions, far too many for Mel to follow. So she ignored the tracks, and instead let her body guide her. She moved in the direction that made her body thrum with energy. It was all she had to go on, but she had learned to trust her instincts.
She set off at a light jog through an area fraught with dead trees. Inter Spatium Abyssus was a dark, gray land, with only rare bits of yellow foliage sprouting out of the tan dirt. She jogged for what felt like hours, and the landscape barely changed.
And then the ground came to an abrupt end.
She stood on a ledge overlooking a valley hundreds of feet below, the hot wind whipping at her face and body. A flaming-red sun peeked above the horizon in the east, and a burnt-orange sky descended to yellow-gold rock formations that spiraled on and on. The formations that were further away sprouted one upon the other like waterfalls; the nearer ones, the ones right below her, looked more like dark honeycombs poking out of a black lake.
But what interested Mel most of all was off in the distance: a glowing blue light that fell from the sky, pulsing and blinding.
That must be Tenebrae Transeunt. The gateway out of Inter Spatium Abyssus and into the world of the living. It appeared to be fifty miles away, if not more. Would the Orb of Lasade be there too? She knew without a doubt the Eighth Clan would keep Charlotte close to the Orb.
Mel paused, feeling the thrumming in her bones.
Only one way to find out.
She resumed her steady jog, her feet pounding the dry, cracked ground. She ran to the lowest point of the cliff and found a suitable spot to climb down.
It wasn’t an easy climb. The cliff wall was lined with sharp, jagged edges, not great for finger holds. Several times, she hit smooth rock and had to stop, retrace her route, and find another way. She stopped to rest from time to time, drank some water, and even had a meal bar. Before she knew it, the sun was high in the sky, half the day had gone, her fingers were cramping, and she still wasn't halfway down.
Diligently and cautiously, she kept going, minding her speed, minding her hands and body, wanting so bad to get down. But she knew she couldn’t help Charlotte if she fell. She might survive the fall, if she landed in that black water, but she suspected she wouldn’t survive the water itself. She wasn’t sure what kind of creatures lurked in those dark depths, but she wasn’t optimistic.
As she continued her downward climb, she came across a sliver of a cave that spanned about fifteen feet across, just below her. She was considering the idea of resting inside for a spell when a claw poked out. Immediately she unsheathed her sword, preparing for the worst.
A Malum poked its head out of the cave, flicking its tongue and tasting the air. It appeared not to have spotted her yet, but if it did, Mel would be at a distinct disadvantage, hanging from the rock as she was.
Seeing no other choice, Mel took a deep breath and attacked.
She fell on the Malum from above, nearly taking both herself and the demon down the cliff, and grasped its head firmly, mindful of its lethal teeth. The demon’s hind legs scrambled, loosening rock and dirt, and pulled both itself and her into the cave—as Mel had hoped it would.
As it stabbed at her with its front legs, Mel rolled away, leapt to her feet, and brought her sword down on the demon’s head, cutting it cleanly in half. The Malum was still shrieking as Mel kicked it off the cliff. It toppled into the black depths below.
Mel stood silently, listening for any other Malum in the cave. When she heard nothing, she sat down, took out her water bottle, pulled down her veil, and took a swig. She stared dispassionately out into the orange sky, reminding herself that she was alive in this dead, dead world.
She leaned back, and her hand fell on cloth. She pulled it up to her eye. It was a piece of a torn green tunic.
Cori.
She searched the cave, but there was no sign of the red-headed woman. She went to the mouth of the cave and stared down into the lake below. Did Cori fall? Is she alive, or…?
Mel didn’t want to think about the alternative. She put the piece of Cori’s tunic in her bag, sheathed her sword
, and resumed her trek down the cliff.
****
The sun was going down by the time Mel reached the base of the cliff. Her body was exhausted, her muscles aching, but she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t let Charlotte down. She had to keep moving. It would grow dark soon, but that didn’t matter. If anything, her vision was actually a little sharper at night, and she would need that advantage to stay alive.
But as she stepped toward the inky black lake, she felt hesitant. The massive body of water itself was still. Too still. It smelled of sweet rot and decay, proof that there were dead things beneath the surface. She wondered where those creatures were that left their lifeless prey to rot in the inky blackness. Perhaps they were within the honeycomb rocks that sprouted out of the lake. Those stones looked more foreboding now that Mel was close to them; anything could pop out of the mouths of their hidden caves. She wondered if gossamer eyes looked back at her even now.
She stretched her senses, pushing them outward, but detected no life. Finally, throwing caution to the wind, she ran like a hellion, jumping from one rock formation to the next across the dark waters, hoping she wouldn’t reach a dead end.
She was halfway across when one of the formations crumbled beneath her weight. She tumbled, belly down, into the water. Instantly she felt a painful burning on her skin. She spun to kick back to the surface, only to feel her feet hit the bottom. The water was shallow, only up to her torso.
She sensed movement, and stilled herself. She heard the slick sound of something heavy sliding against rock. A large, snakelike creature was sliding into a mouth of one of the caves.
She pulled herself out of the water. As soon as she did so, the creature emerged not fifteen feet away from her. It was massive, with slick, pale white skin, and like all things in this dead place, it looked touched by decay. The deformed thing rose high, towering well above Mel’s head. She had the sense that it was looking down on her, though she could not see any eyes, a mouth, or a nose—just a dry, shriveled head that bled black blood.
