The Bones of Makaidos

by Bryan Davis

  Sir Barlow called out, “Walter, are you injured?”

  Walter trudged toward him. He dragged a host of shadows hanging on to his legs. They bit and clawed as he chopped at them with his sword. “I’m fine. I think I picked up a few hitchhikers. I wish—”

  He dropped to his knees. Shadow people swarmed over his body. Their squeals sounded like mice possessed by ecstatic demons. Barlow rushed toward him, but the energized monsters overwhelmed them both in a tsunami of darkness.

  Chapter 9

  The Smallest Enemy

  Valiant struggled toward Walter and Barlow, but with the weight of hundreds of shadow people dragging him back, he would never make it in time to help.

  “Get ready,” Billy said. He summoned Excalibur’s beam and let it soar into the sky. When Cliffside saw the signal, he was supposed to turn on the magneto and fry those fiends. It was time to spring the trap.

  The beam’s glow lit up the faces around him, including those of Candle and Windor. Wearing anxious expressions, they waited while the battle ahead of them raged on without the expected sounds and smells of cooking shadows. All three warriors faltered under wave after wave of shadow people.

  Elam jumped on Dikaios and drew his sword. “I’m going in!”

  As Dikaios galloped toward the melee, Sapphira charged after him, her body ablaze. Several other villagers ran to join them, one riding Ember.

  Bonnie looked at Billy. “Are we going?”

  “Come with me!” Dimming Excalibur to a glow, Billy sprinted toward a corner of the net where the primary node was anchored. Kneeling, he searched through the grass with one hand while reaching Excalibur toward Bonnie. “Hold the sword.”

  The sword brightened in her grip. Billy glanced at it while continuing his search. “Here it is.” He fished the net from the slush-covered grass and held it up. “Now touch the blade to this.”

  She obeyed. When the metal edge made contact with the net, sparks flew up. Billy dropped it and shook his hand. “Ouch!”

  “What’s supposed to happen?” Bonnie asked.

  “I’m trying to heat up the grid.” Now sweating, he nodded at the sword. “Do you know how to summon the beam?”

  “I think so. I’ve done it before.” Bonnie closed her eyes. As she concentrated, the blade brightened further. Suddenly, the laser shot out from the tip and burrowed into the ground, raising more sparks and a foul odor. The filament turned orange, then crimson, and the color spread out along the netting, disappearing under the snow and reappearing again as it moved across clear ground.

  Holding his breath, Billy watched the battle scene. Thousands of shadow creatures mobbed the villagers. It seemed that someone had dumped a legion of tar-covered demons over their army. The humans fought back—hacking, wrestling, and prying strangling fingers away from throats. They staggered about, desperately trying to keep their balance. Falling into the sea of demons would be a fatal mistake. Companions flashed like strobes, then winked out one by one.

  Atop his warrior horse, Elam bent over and sliced at the attackers, while Dikaios stomped with his powerful legs, but Ember and her rider were nowhere in sight. A bright column floated from place to place, Sapphira, her body a flaming fountain. Wherever she went, the blackness fizzled, but she was so small, and their army was so massive. She was like a matchstick in a dark canyon.

  When the heat reached the battleground, the batlike squeals changed from joy to terror. Sizzles and pops flew about everywhere, and steam shot up from bubbling black pools.

  Billy shouted, “Everyone drop down and roll.”

  Most heeded Billy’s call and pressed the dark attackers against the pulsing red matrix. More squeals erupted. Plumes of steam shot into the air. Two villagers continued staggering, and with their heads covered with black hoods of clawing vermin, they probably never heard Billy’s shout.

  “Keep the beam going.” Billy leaped up and ran toward the battle. When he reached a standing villager, Billy pushed him to the ground. Then, after tiptoeing around several rolling masses of black, he grabbed the second warrior and did the same.

  Walking from body to body, he tore away shadow people and stomped them against the heated net. With each uncovering, a village soldier heaved a breath of air and then jumped up to help in the rescue effort. Three of the villagers had to search the blackness and pry their companions from rigid black fingers, but every flashing little egg finally broke free.

  As the pungent air grew thick with the stench of boiling shadow people, Billy worked even faster. The lack of oxygen would soon take its toll on their strength. They had to finish up and get out.

  Near one corner, Ember walked backwards, dragging a villager by the collar. Now dismounted, Elam ripped a shadow person from Ember’s legs while Dikaios stomped another one hanging on to the villager.

  Billy tore away another squirming black shroud, revealing Walter. Grasping his friend’s wrist, Billy heaved him to his feet.

  “Thanks, buddy.” Grimacing, Walter peeled a severed hand that had been plastered on his cheek. “I have a good name for these critters. Skunk tape. Sticky and smelly.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” Billy nodded toward the village. “Let’s get everyone back. I want to sweep the whole net clean with Excalibur.”

  “I see Elam. I’ll ask him to give the order.” Walter ran into a rising column of steam and out of sight.

  Billy hustled back to Bonnie and reached for Excalibur. “Great job. Time to clean up the mess.”

  Bonnie turned off the beam and set the hilt in his hand. Her face downturned, she spoke in a sad tone. “I guess if I’m going to fight alongside you, I’d better get used to killing the enemy.”

  He gazed at her sorrow-filled stance. She was right. A warrior had to be ready to use deadly force against an evil army, and when their numbers overwhelmed those of the innocent, everyone had to take up arms.

  After giving her an encouraging clasp on her shoulder, he turned away and summoned the beam again, training it on the net at a forty-five degree angle. When he drew near the bubbling mess, he crouched and swept the beam across the matrix. Wherever the radiance touched, the black pools disappeared in a dazzling explosion of purple sparks.

  Some of the closer eruptions sent arcing embers over his body that stung if they happened to land on exposed skin. As he breathed in the fumes, his lungs tried to repel the noxious gas. He coughed and spat, but the residue left a film on his tongue and the back of his throat.

  Underneath the vanishing blackness, the net appeared, now fading from red to orange. As the beam moved from one part of the ground to another, it seemed to paint the dark canvas with orange paint until no smudge of black remained. Fortunately, the network of tubing beneath the net would likely be unaffected. Ashley had constructed the second-stage trap out of various plastic and rubber pieces she had found on the airplane, including a box of drinking straws and dozens of feet of wire insulation.

  When the final spot disappeared, Billy straightened and let Excalibur fade. A breeze cooled his damp face and brushed away the remaining fog of shadow remnants. His legs shaky, he jogged back to where he and the other villagers had waited for the attack. With Pegasus now high in the sky, the villagers were easy to see, at least twenty standing at the edge of the field, touching each other as they examined their wounds.

  Walter greeted him with a hearty pat on the back. “That’s what I call cleaning up!”

  “I guess so,” Billy said as he slid Excalibur back into its scabbard, “but I feel like I need to scrub with lye soap.”

  “Tell me about it.” Walter touched a raw spot on his forehead. “But not lye. Most of us already look like we had a losing battle with a flame thrower.”

  Elam and Sapphira stepped out of a shadow. “What happened to the plan?” Elam asked.

  “No idea.” Billy looked toward the southeast where the magneto station lay. “Maybe there’s a break in the circuit between here and the magneto.”

  “Or something’s up with Cl
iffside.” Walter drew his sword and began jogging southward. “I’ll check on him.”

  Billy looked out over the field toward Adam’s Marsh. In the distance, a single torch drifted away, small and fading, like a lit match dwindling as it burned down to the nub.

  “A scout running back to tell the news,” Elam said. “Soon Flint will know that his first wave failed.”

  “Does that mean he won’t attack with the rest of his troops tonight?” Billy asked.

  Elam tilted his head upward as if trying to get a better view. A crisscross pattern of thin lines marred his cheek. “That’s my guess. We’ll station fresh guards, but if our theories are right, the Nephilim will do much better in the daytime, and the warmer season will help them a lot.”

  “It’ll help our dragons, too,” Billy said.

  “And theirs as well.”

  Sapphira touched Elam’s arm. “I’m concerned about Walter going to the magneto by himself. We should give him support.”

  “You’re right. There might be trouble.” Drawing his sword with a sagging arm, Elam waved for everyone to head back to the village. “Sapphira and I will ride the horses to the magneto. The rest of you report to the hospital for some healing salve.”

  Billy weaved through the crowd. He found Bonnie kneeling next to Valiant and Candle. Both sat leaning against a fallen log, their legs straight out with their trousers rolled up past their knees. Sir Barlow sat on the end of the log. As he pulled black goo from his mustache, he frowned. “Back on Earth, the Caitiffs’ sticky blood dissolved after we skewered them. I doubt that we will have the same benefit with these creatures.”

  As the clops of the two horses passed by, Bonnie touched Candle’s leg near a long burn. “Will you be able to walk?” she asked.

  Sweat glistened on his handsome dark face. “I think so. I just need to rest. I’m not used to the warmth.”

  Billy reached for Valiant’s hand. “Need a lift?”

  “I gladly accept.” Valiant wrapped his hand around Billy’s wrist and pulled himself up. When he gained his balance, he rubbed a finger across a mark on his chin that looked more like a bite than a burn. “I am grateful for your quick thinking, Billy. Those creatures were more ferocious than I realized.”

  Looking into Valiant’s noble face, Billy kept their wrists locked. Watching his courage had sent a charge of bravery through his own muscles. “Good job, my friend,” Billy said. “You’re a true hero.”

  After Valiant and Barlow began a stiff-legged march toward the village, Billy and Bonnie supported Candle from each side and helped him limp. They took their time, chatting with him as they shuffled through the damp grass. There was no hurry. He wasn’t badly hurt, and listening to him recount his battles with the shadow people gave Billy another boost. This teenaged warrior had a heart the size of a mountain.

  As soon as they set foot on the street leading to the center, Pearl and Mantika ran toward them with a stretcher. They set it down and helped Candle lower himself to it.

  “Such a warrior,” Pearl said as she mopped his brow with a soft cloth. “You were brave and strong for us. Now we will serve you with our healing skills.”

  Mantika brushed her hand through his mud-caked dreadlocks but said nothing. Even after four years in the village, she still maintained her habit of speaking only when necessary. Yet, her eyes spoke volumes. She loved her adopted son, and her pride in his courage poured forth.

  As they rushed Candle toward the hospital, Billy looked around. Several pairs of women hauled other wounded warriors in the same direction. Obviously, Ashley had stationed a battery of stretchers and orderlies at the edge of the village, ready to tend to the wounded.

  Billy shuffled to the village’s central circle and plopped down on a bench. He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. It was dimmer here than on the streets that fed the circle, and it felt good to rest in the shadows, out of the limelight, far from the bustle.

  Sitting down next to him, Bonnie touched his arm. “How did you know Excalibur would do that?”

  Billy looked at her through the shadows. When his eyes adjusted, he tried to read her expression. She seemed tired, yet charged up by the excitement. “Something that happened a few years back. I’m not sure if I told you about it or not. When I was staying at that old mansion in England, one of the New Table goons attacked me. He was wearing a black cloak that was covered with metallic mesh. When I hit him with Excalibur’s beam, it didn’t hurt him at all. The mesh just heated up, and it protected him from being disintegrated. Prof looked at the cloak later and said it was coated with iron oxide, a fancy term for rust. I thought if Excalibur did that then, it might do it again.”

  “Good thinking.”

  They paused, looking at each other in silence. Billy pondered her new expression, meditative, uncertain. For many other people, this would be an awkward moment, but a break in conversation never bothered Bonnie. She often searched for the best words, always willing to risk discomfort in her quest for eloquence, and those who had a chance to listen to her were rewarded for their patience.

  As he waited, a woman ran toward them from the direction of the hospital and passed by without glancing their way. Stripped to jeans and a T-shirt, she hurried down the road toward the birthing garden, her slender and muscular form now recognizable.

  “Was that Ashley?” Bonnie asked.

  “Yep. She was in a big hurry. I guess we’ll find out why soon enough.”

  “I’m sure we will.” Bonnie touched the string of beads around Billy’s neck. “Did you make that? It looks exactly like mine.”

  “I found it in the mines. Acacia and I went there looking for you, but the magma chasm had filled with water, so we had to give up.” He lifted the necklace and then let it fall back to his skin. “We were worried that you and Sapphira had drowned, but I’ve been wearing it ever since, because . . .” He looked down for a moment before regaining eye contact. “Well, because I believe in the prophecy.”

  Bonnie took his hand into hers. “Before we go to the hospital to see my father, I have something to tell you.”

  Billy studied her expression again. She looked so serious, so grave. Swallowing, he nodded. “Okay. I think I’m ready.”

  She averted her gaze, apparently focusing on a woman helping one of the wounded soldiers walk past. “I spent over four years in the Valley of Souls training to help Second Eden on the battlefield. And I did a lot of thinking.” She looked back at him. “About us.”

  The lump in Billy’s throat grew, this time more painful. “Go on.”

  “Someone pointed out to me that the prophecy wasn’t exactly clear. It might not mean that you and I are supposed to get married.”

  The lump’s pain increased. A tear welled. He fought against the emotions, but they were winning, breaking through to the surface. And although a million words raced through his mind, he swallowed them down. It was better to let her finish speaking her mind.

  As she continued, she kneaded his hand with her thumb, and her voice rose to a plaintive pitch. “There are other children of doubt, Billy. There are other virgin brides. Maybe it wasn’t talking about you and me. You know, Elam and Sapphira fit the poem perfectly. And Makaidos might be the dragon shorn that lives again.”

  She paused. Now her eyes searched for a response. It was time for him to say something. But what? His emotions were twisting into a knot. After years of believing he was destined to marry the most wonderful girl in the world, she seemed to be pulling back. She was drifting away. He was losing her.

  He breathed a silent prayer. How could he put his feelings into words? Just be quiet? Just ask a question and hope for a clue?

  Clearing his throat and hoping to keep his voice steady, he said, “So does that mean you don’t want to marry me?” He cringed. Was that too bold?

  Her face displayed half amusement and half anguish. “No, no. That’s not it at all. I just want to know that I don’t have to marry you. I want us both to be sure that we want to. If
you love me, I want you to pursue my heart with your courage, your kindness, and your godly manner. And I want to freely give my heart to you in love, not by compulsion because of a prophecy that seems to chain us together without a choice.”

  As she continued, tears streamed down both cheeks. “Ever since someone labeled me as the prophetic virgin bride, I was okay with it, because you’re such a great guy, but it felt like an arranged marriage. We didn’t have any choice. Then, when I heard that the prophecy might not be for us, I felt free. I didn’t have to marry you if I didn’t want to.”

  She caressed his cheek, her voice shaking. “But that’s a good thing, Billy. If we really do get married, neither one of us will ever wonder about being bound by someone else’s words, a predestined edict that denies our free will and forces us to obey its irresistible decree. Instead we can come together by a choice to love that is free and resistible, because if we aren’t able to choose to walk away from each other, then our coming together wouldn’t be because of love at all, would it?”

  As she drew back her hand, a torrent of conflicting emotions flooded his mind. She was so right. Being bound like that wouldn’t be love. Freedom to choose a life partner was the basis of love in the first place. Being dragged by fiat into a relationship would be nothing more than bondage. Still, not knowing for sure that he would forever be with this amazing girl nearly tore him apart. Finally, he squeezed out a reply. “I … I think you’re right. But it’s scary. It was kind of …” He paused. The words had to be just right. “It was comfortable, I guess, knowing that you would be in my future. I didn’t have to guess what was going to happen.”

  Her fists clenched in her lap. “But I don’t want you to be comfortable. I want you to win my heart. I want you to fight for me, sweat for me, bleed for me. I want you to know that you had to pay a valuable price for me, and that I am a treasure in your mind, not a trophy that was handed to you because of a divine proclamation.”

  Billy looked into her fiery eyes. She had been bold, confident, and true. Again she was right, and he couldn’t say a word.