“Noooo!” I slap my palm against Łizhin’s back to get her attention. I look around frantically for help, but Mom is too busy fighting off buzzards, and Davery is ducking for cover under his book.
“I see him,” Łizhin says, voice grim. “Hold on! I’m going to try to catch him before he hits the ground.”
She banks, taking the turn at top speed, and goes straight into a dive. The wind blows me back, and I twist my fingers through the rope, holding on tight. Black Jet Girl does the same, leaning forward as close as she can to Łizhin’s back. We don’t get far before something hits us from the side, throwing Łizhin off course and bringing our pursuit up short.
“Mac!” I search frantically for his figure and spot him, still falling toward the hard earth below. And then I see it. A shimmery substance unfurls in the air underneath him like a silver net. He falls into the glimmering stuff, and it completely envelops his body, rolling him into what looks like a giant burrito. Then it retracts toward the side of the canyon until it gently bumps the side and comes to a safe stop no more than a few feet above the ground.
That was close. “What just happened?” I ask aloud.
“Looks like we had some help,” Black Jet Girl says, gesturing toward a cliff. Probably a dozen feet above cocoon Mac, hanging from the sheer rock wall, is a woman wearing rock-climbing gear—a harness, helmet, nylon pants, and a windbreaker with a black-and-red rug pattern on it. Her hair is tied up in a traditional tsiiyéél, and she’s wearing sunglasses. She sees us and waves happily.
It’s Spider Woman! Which means Mac is wrapped in…a web! Oh boy, he’s gonna hate that. Of course, if I tell him that his options were spiderweb or death, he might be grateful. Or not. It’s definitely going to be a close call.
Spider Woman is waving more frantically now. She’s gesturing to something behind me, and I turn to see what it is. And then I almost wish I hadn’t. Coming up fast is the biggest bináá’ yee aghání I’ve seen yet. Twice as big as Łizhin. In fact, I think it could swallow her in a single bite. If the bináá’ yee aghání have a king, this guy is it. And I know for sure we are about to be its lunch. The hairs on my neck rise, and I feel a terrible chill.
But the giant buzzard doesn’t try to attack. Instead, it curves wide, avoiding us altogether, and tapers into a dive. Heading for Mac, hanging helplessly against the cliffside.
But why would it go for Mac instead of the four guardians in the sky?
Then I see it—there’s a rider on its back. I recognize him immediately. Blond hair. Still wearing a black suit. The head monster.
“It’s him!” I shout. “Mr. Charles!”
He looks over his shoulder and stares right at me, as if he heard me. His lips spread into an ugly smirk. But he doesn’t turn his buzzard mount—he shoots straight for Mac.
No way I’m letting that monster take my little brother. I may not have been able to protect him from Adrien Cuttlebush, but I’m going to save him from the biggest bully of all or die trying.
“Follow him!” I shout to Łizhin.
I barely get the words out before we’re jolted to the side by another buzzard attack. Łizhin cries out, dazed, and we start to drop. I clutch at Black Jet Girl, and she throws her arms around the herald’s neck. We freefall, my heart rushing up to my throat, before Łizhin evens out again.
“Are you okay?” I shout.
“My wing. I think it’s hurt. I’m going to have to land.”
“What about Mac?”
“I can’t get to him. They’re blocking me. Look!”
Sure enough, two more buzzards have taken positions below us. They aren’t attacking, just preventing Łizhin from following Mr. Charles. Each one has a rider on their back—the infamous bodyguards, Mr. Rock and Ms. Bird.
“Nizhoni!” It’s Davery, still on Tsídii’s back with Yellow Corn Girl. They hover next to us, almost close enough to touch.
“Łizhin is hurt!” I shout over the wind. “She has to land.”
“I know, but I found what I needed in the lightning book. It’s going to seem a little nuts. Do you trust me?”
That doesn’t sound good, but I do trust him. “As long as it gets me to Mac!”
“Okay!” He grins. “Jump!”
“Come again?” Surely I didn’t hear that right. We’re a hundred feet up in the air. No way I’m getting off this bird on purpose.
“I told you it seems nuts, but it’s the only way.” He lifts the lightning book and shakes it in my direction. “I read it in here. I know it’ll work.”
I glance below me. Mr. Rock and Ms. Bird hover there, ready to snap me up like a bug. And if I somehow made it through their blockade in one piece, I’d fall and break my neck against the rock floor below.
“Is Spider Woman going to catch me, too?” I ask. Maybe she’ll wrap me in a web. But then how will I fight Mr. Charles?
“No,” Davery says. “The book doesn’t say anything about Spider Woman.” He glances over his shoulder, like there’s something behind him, but I don’t see anything. Just a big fluffy white cloud. “But you’ve got to jump. Now!”
“You can do it,” Łizhin says, sounding like Coach. “Go get him, Nizhoni!”
I remove the rope around my waist and swing my legs over so they’re both dangling off the same side. I tighten the strap of my arrow quiver, painfully aware that I only have two precious arrows left. I pin my bow to my side.
“Good luck!” Black Jet Girl says, and I give her a terrified smile, definitely reconsidering this hero business. It really is for the birds!
“Here goes nothing,” I say. I take one last deep breath and push myself off the safety of Łizhin’s back. Immediately my stomach falls out from under me like on the worst part of the Cyclone ride. The wind snatches me and throws me earthward, and I go plummeting through blue sky with no idea where or how I’m going to land.
I don’t even have time to scream before I smack into something, or someone. I open my eyes to see my mom’s face. She’s grinning big, one arm holding me tightly. Somehow she managed to catch me while her other hand was wrapped around the hilt of her lightning sword.
“Nice jump!” she shouts as she sets me on my feet. We’re both standing on the back of the White Mountain herald. Rock Crystal Boy is hunched over Łigai’s neck, steering the bird, but he looks back over his shoulder and gives me a friendly wave.
“Put your feet in here.” Mom points to the footholds she engineered in the harness that allow her to stand while in flight. I slip my feet underneath the ropes and immediately feel more balanced, but I’m still freaking out a little, because I’m standing on a bird’s back with only some rope loops to secure me, and we’re going really fast.
“Ready your bow, Nizhoni!” Mom shouts. “I’ll take right and you take left.”
“Take left what?”
She gestures ahead, and I see we’re closing in fast on the buzzard blockade. We’re near enough that I can see the shine on Mr. Rock’s bald head, as well as the gleam on the black gun barrel that is pointed directly at us.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Mom says between gritted teeth. She slips her feet out of the holds and runs down the herald’s back. I watch as she launches herself into the air, her sword slashing downward, and Mr. Rock’s gun goes flying—while still attached to his hand. Which is no longer attached to his arm. Yuck! But also, whoa! Mom really is a badass.
I watch as she lands safely on Tsídii’s back as the herald passes below with Davery and Yellow Corn Girl.
We speed past them, the sound of Mr. Rock’s scream ringing through the air. Ms. Bird, on the back of her oily-winged buzzard, is coming up fast on my left. I don’t wait. I loose my arrow, not aiming for her, but for her mount. Again, bull’s-eye! Or, rather, buzzard’s-eye.
The bináá’ yee aghání emits an ear-piercing shriek and falls out of the sky. Ms. Bird goes down with it, still straddling the buzzard’s back.
Our way is clear. But I can see that Mr. Charles has almost reached Mac. There�
�s no way we can outrun him now.
“Hold on, Nizhoni!” Rock Crystal Boy says, his voice taut as a bowstring. “We’re going down.”
I crouch as Łigai folds his wings close to his body and dives.
The next few seconds feel like minutes. There is a rush of air and sound and movement. I squint against the wind while trying to keep an eye on our primary enemy. He brings his king buzzard alongside Mac, where it hovers while Mr. Charles makes his way to the top of the monster’s head. Soon he is parallel to Mac, who is motionless and hanging within easy reach. I hope Mac is still breathing in there.
I frantically scan the cliff wall for Spider Woman, but I can’t see her anywhere. I know Mom and Davery are somewhere above me, and she’s probably still fighting, so I’m the only one who can help Mac now. If Mr. Charles grabs him and they fly away on the buzzard king, I may never catch up. I’ve got to do something.
I get down on my knees and stick my legs under the harness rope. I tap Rock Crystal Boy on the shoulder and motion for him to slow down. He instructs the herald, and we begin to decelerate.
This is it. I’ve got a single arrow left. One shot. I’ve hit all my targets so far today, and I only have to be perfect one more time. At least that’s what I tell myself. But aiming at Mr. Charles feels different. Despite the fact that all my senses are telling me he’s a monster under that fancy suit, he still looks human. How can I shoot another person?
Mr. Charles pulls something from inside his jacket. It’s a knife—the same one he used to threaten me back at the house. I growl, feeling my anger rise. He intends to take Mac.
No way. I won’t let him.
My hands are shaking as I draw my bow, nock the arrow, and take aim. Right at Mr. Charles’s chest. But I’m in such a hurry and so nervous, I don’t do my breathing exercise—I just let it fly.
Big mistake.
I watch the lightning arrow shoot forward, a perfect arc of white fire. It zooms through the sky straight toward its target. Mr. Charles stops cutting the web around Mac and turns. His eyes widen. Then he lifts a hand, palm open, fingers spread as if trying to stop the arrow.
And he catches it.
I gasp. No!
His laughter rings through the canyon. He hefts the arrow a few times, checking its weight, and then looks up at me. We’re still flying right toward him, and I’m close enough to see his red eyes. He seems to move in slow motion as he raises his arm, winds it back, and hurls the arrow—my arrow—straight at me.
I don’t have time to do anything but watch it come.
It’s a direct hit right over my heart. I scream as fire radiates through my body. I clutch at the shaft, thinking to pull it out, but I’m already losing strength in my arms. I struggle to breathe, my pulse beating too loud in my ears. Someone calls my name. I turn my head and Rock Crystal Boy is reaching out for me. But we don’t connect.
I fall to the canyon below.
I wake up, the world blurry around me, the feel of the dry desert ground at my back. I hear footsteps coming toward me, the click-click of a businessman’s fancy shoes. I should feel more pain. Or maybe I should feel no pain at all, because I’m dead. Either way, I should definitely have less sand stuck up my nose. I sneeze some of it out, a wholly undignified move, and long for a tissue and a nice cold drink of water. Strange that the mind and body can still want stuff when you’re dead.
I reach for the place over my heart where I was hit and discover the arrow is gone. All that remains is a warm spot that feels like I’m wrapping my hands around a mug of hot chocolate. I sense that if I kept my fingers there too long, they would get burned. I wonder what happened to the arrow, but I don’t have time to wonder for long.
“Well, Nizhoni,” comes a voice I’d hoped never to hear again. The voice of a shape-shifting red-eyed monster in a black suit. “It seems you can’t be killed by your own arrow, which is a shame. I guess I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Good news: I’m not dead, or even dying. Bad news: Mr. Charles is standing above me, ready to finish the job.
“Kill me all you want!” I shout, hoping he doesn’t take me at my word. “At least you’ll never get Mac!”
Mr. Charles laughs, a cold ugly sound. “On the contrary, I already have him. Spider Woman even wrapped him up for easy carrying. I’ll have him in my fracking fields, drawing water from the earth, in no time.”
I push myself to a sitting position and crab-walk backward, putting some distance between the monster and me. I try to peer past him, to see if he does, in fact, have Mac trussed up and ready to go like a stuffed turkey. But my vision is still messed up and everything beyond Mr. Charles is a big blur.
“I’ve collected many children with unique abilities over the years, but I’ve been looking for someone with Mac’s particular talent for a long time,” he murmurs, sounding pleased. “I told you your family was special.”
I assumed Mr. Charles was a one-time kidnapper. The thought of him dragging kids with ancestral powers to Oklahoma and making them toil for him makes me shiver.
“Even if you take him, I’ll find him. And my dad! You’ll never be able to hide them from me.”
Mr. Charles sighs. “Ah, sibling love. How touching. But here’s the truth, Nizhoni Begay.” His face grows dark and his words come out as sharp and cutting as the knife in his hand. “You are only a child yourself, and now you are a child all alone.”
I look up, trying to find my mom, but the sky is filled only with black forms—buzzards, circling the top of Shiprock. The land force of monsterslayers apparently never showed up, either.
“Your words are brave enough, but the fact of the matter is, you cannot defeat me. I have a very big knife.” He holds up his stone knife, and I watch as it transforms into a huge sickle. A sharp curved silver blade on a wooden pole twice as tall as me. With his skeletal figure and his black clothes, clutching that giant scythe, he looks like the grim reaper.
“And you have nothing,” he hisses. “You are nothing.”
“You’re wrong!” I say, because every minute he’s been talking, my head has gotten a little clearer, and the place over my heart has gotten warmer. My whole body is filling with heat. And everywhere it flows, my muscles seem stronger, and my blood feels brighter. I flex my hands, and tiny sparks dance across my fingertips.
Now I know what happened to my arrow.
Łizhin’s words ring in my mind. Just be who you are. You were born for this.
“You’re wrong,” I repeat. “I’ve never been alone. I have my best friend and my family…”
“Oh?” He looks around, raising his hand theatrically to shade his eyes. “I don’t see them anywhere. Where are they?”
“…and I have the heralds and the guardians…”
“Who will all be dead shortly.”
“…and I have the love and wisdom of my ancestors…”
“Now I’m getting bored.”
“…and I have one other thing you didn’t count on.”
He stops pretending to yawn and narrows his eyes at me. “And what, pray tell, is that?”
I raise my hands, palms up. “I have the lightning.”
I release the fire that’s been building in my blood.
And I blow Mr. Charles to smithereens.
There is a deep silence, like the whole world is holding its breath. And then a sound like a bubble popping. And then more pops as all the bináá’ yee aghání in the sky above me burst in a blaze of white lightning and turn into ash that rains down on me. It’s pretty much the grossest thing ever. Even the king buzzard explodes, becoming a black heap on the red desert floor.
Flapping wings draw my attention as Tsídii comes to a soft landing beside me. Yellow Corn Girl helps Davery slide off the back of his herald and he runs over. “Did you do that?”
“Yup. Pretty sure that was me.”
“That was amazing!”
“Thanks.” I try to stand, but my legs don’t seem to want to work. “Little help here,”
I say, holding out my arms.
Davery grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. I almost fall over. Using that lightning power must have taken a lot of my energy.
“Just lean against me,” he says. We hobble over to where Mr. Charles used to be. All that’s left of him is the stone handle of his small knife and a pool of black oil.
“He was a monster, not a human,” Davery says, guessing what I’m thinking. “You had to kill him.”
“I know,” I say. “But it still feels weird. I wish my shimásání were here to say a little prayer or something.”
He nods, totally understanding.
A loud victory cry draws our attention, and we turn to see Łigai land and my mom hop gracefully off his back. She must have switched back to the White Mountain herald while I was fighting Mr. Charles. She has a huge bloody scratch on one cheek, and her hair is looking extra punk, sticking up like she put her finger in an electrical socket. Her leather jacket is toast, but she’s still carrying her lightning sword.
“Nizhoni!” she shouts happily. “I saw what you did. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time to help, but I’m so proud of you.” She reaches out to hug me, and this time I let her. It’s a little awkward, since she’s still holding the sword, but it works. And I get a warm fuzzy feeling that has nothing to do with lightning and everything to do with having my mom back. My arms tighten around her.
“You did what I couldn’t,” she says in an amazed tone. “You defeated the monsters.”
“You were awesome, too!” I say, stepping back from our hug. “I’ve never seen anyone fight with a sword in real life. It was badass!”
She laughs and lifts the sword slightly. “Wish I’d had something like this way back when, but I didn’t finish the trials, so there were no sacred weapons for me.” She glances admiringly at the guardians and heralds that surround us. “And I definitely didn’t have this kind of backup.”
“I do have the best backup,” I say, grinning at Davery.
“But where’s Mac?” he asks, snapping me back to reality.
Race to the Sun Page 22
