by Matt Gross
She walked toward the glow in the distance, making every footfall careful and deliberate. She moved slowly and held her arms outstretched, probing for walls and cautious not to run into something in the total black before her. The pale yellow glow grew brighter as she got closer, and she fought her growing anticipation to keep her mind focused on her task. Her walk through the tunnel produced little noise, only the occasional stone kicked as she slid her feet along the floor.
She finally stepped inside the circle of light. It was beautiful. Fungi and moss festooned the open cavern. A pool of water sat at its center. The air was damp and the walls wore a sheet of water. The cavern was as bright as a starry night sky. Kira walked to the edge of the pool and peered inside. Luminous fish swam through the water. From her vantage point she couldn't tell how deep the pool was, or whether it continued to other hidden caverns within the cave. She examined her surroundings and only allowed herself the briefest moment of elation that she was able to see it at all. She focused more on the issue at hand: the cavity appeared to be a dead end. Kira saw no opening other than the one she had come from.
The young witch took a moment and looked herself over. Her pale skin was covered in dirt and grime, her feet even more so. She squatted down closer to the water and looked at her reflection. She looked like she hadn't slept for days though she had just woken up. She scooped some water into her cupped hands and splashed her face. It was cool and refreshing, and she licked a finger to taste. The water was clean, not bitter. She cupped her hands once more, but this time she lifted the water to her mouth and drank. Kira had no idea water could taste so good; it was unlike any water she had before. She stood up, closed her eyes and jumped in.
The water was colder than she initially thought. She waited a moment for her body to adjust before she dove to find another way out of the cave. Totally submerged, she opened her eyes and looked around. To her surprise she could see clearly. The fish had scattered when she entered, but slowly started to swim around her like she was one of them. She swam the circumference of the pool and found a small opening almost directly beneath where she had stood a moment before. Kira surfaced, then took a deep breath before diving down and entering the small underwater passage.
The tunnel was long and she started to feel the pressure, her body begging for some air. She could not see an end in sight and she could feel herself beginning to panic. The pressure grew more intense, like some creature was trying to burst out of her chest. It hurt. She had to calm herself or she would drown. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, pulling herself along at a much faster pace. She held to the walls on either side to reassure herself a bit, but in her haste she scraped and bumped her already sore arms. She felt like her lungs were going to burst. She started to tremble.
The passage finally opened up to another pool, and Kira reached for the surface. Every stroke got her closer, and finally her fingers felt open air. She let out a loud gasp as she broke the surface of the water. Her lungs hungrily took in air and the young witch paused just to orient herself. The pool and new chamber looked almost identical to the one she had just left, except this one had two passages heading in opposite directions. She made her way to the edge of the pool, hauled herself out, scraping her knees along the way. She stood dripping wet, her clothes clung to her body like a second skin. She closed her eyes and meditated. She absorbed everything around her. The smell of the cave moss. The sound of dripping water from the stalactites.
After a moment she reached out a little further, pushing back the sound of water and smell of moss and searched for something, anything else. She heard a faint sound coming from her left, too far away, too distant to make out. To her right she heard nothing, an unnatural nothing. She opened her eyes. Kira took the right passage.
The tunnel was dark, just as dark as the first passage she had taken. She walked just as carefully, but this time she probed ahead with her arms as well since there was no glow to guide her. She stopped when she kicked something on the floor that didn't feel like a rock. She squatted down and felt for the object with her hands. Kira picked it up and used her hands to identify it. She found a smooth rounded surface with a faint crack, and as she glided her hand along she found two large holes side by side. Beneath and directly between those holes she felt...
Shit! It's a skull!!
She dropped it quickly, startled. She took a moment to collect herself and then moved further along, more slowly than she did before. The young witch felt several more skulls and other bones scattered haphazardly. She didn't bother to pick them up to verify. She had a sense that she was now in another large cavity and when she reached a dozen or so feet in she found a pile of bones and skulls. She only touched them long enough to know what laid before her. My ancestors who failed their Gnoxel. Here to scare me? It worked. She was unsure why this chamber was so deafeningly quiet, but she knew she didn't want to be in there any longer. Fear started to crawl ever so slowly up her spine and she started to break out into a cold sweat. Kira turned around and as quickly as she could she backtracked her way to the pool.
She stopped in the middle of the cavern and looked back over her shoulder, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to see anything. She exhaled. When did I hold my breath? She closed her eyes again. This time she counted to ten and opened them. She looked at the remaining passage and moved forward, making her way down it just like she had with the others.
Kira followed the distant sound she heard from the pool chamber. The noise became louder. It was a buzzing, or maybe a humming. It grew louder and more distinct the closer she got. Snoring? She approached another cavern, this one much larger than the previous two, cave moss and fungi illuminated this chamber as well, but she didn't notice it until she was inside. Upon entering the cavern the humming, buzzing, snoring sound ceased to another unnatural quiet. A shiver ran up her spine, but she wasn't cold.
“Have you come to subdue me, or are you here to sate mine hunger?” The voice was many, it came from nowhere yet everywhere. It was sensual, frightening, exotic and definitely feminine.
Kira looked around her frantically, though she tried to look unfazed by the disembodied voice. “Where...where are you?” She tried to sound authoritative and commanding, but it came out just as frazzled as she looked. “Show yourself, beast,” she said with better control.
Laughter filled the chamber. “There's...there's something different about you, little one. Come closer, I want to see you more closely. My eyes are not what they used to be.”
The young witch cautiously took a few more steps into the cavern. Most of the stalactites and stalagmites were on the outer edges of the chamber, leaving the center unobstructed. When she reached the center of the cavern she saw a pair of large glowing yellow eyes; what those eyes were attached to she couldn't see. She breathed in heavily as goose bumps ran up her arms and legs and she could feel the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rise. This place felt ancient. The smell of old dust and a faint odor of blood filled the air.
“Oh my, you are a beauty.” The head came into view. “Much more pretty than your sister.”
The dragon's head was large and had a mane of black and gray hair. Kira had a sudden surge of courage and dared to lock eyes with the ancient beast. The two of them stared for what seemed hours though the young witch knew it was only a minute.
The dragon sniffed the air between them. “They sent you here too early. You are not ready, but yet...”
“I am ready!” Kira said defiantly.
“Oh, child, you so are not.” The large beast came fully into view. The Dragon-Mother had no wings and had a long body similar to a snake. The mane ran the length of the body along its back to the tip of her tail. She had six legs and claws as long as Kira was tall. The young witch could hardly believe that the beast could fit in the chamber. The Dragon-Mother picked Kira up and held her between two clawed fingers, holding her twenty feet off the ground.
Kira shook, her eyes went wide and she tried to pry herse
lf loose. She was terrified. She didn't want to die. It was supposed to be an honorable death for those who didn't meet the standards of the tribal witches. To hell with an honorable death, to hell with tradition, I want to live! She continued to struggle herself free, but she couldn't match the dragon’s strength. “I'm not afraid of you!” She blurted out in nervous terror.
A smile stretched across the Dragon-Mother's face, or at least Kira thought it was a smile. “Oh, child. I have been around a very long time. I have been called by many names.” She shifted her bulk, which made Kira tense up.
“I have seen generation after generation of your tribe come through here, but you intrigue me.” She paused a moment as if to access some hidden compartment in her brain. “The Tal family has always been rich with magic and you will be no different. I sense great power in you, Kira. You will become more powerful then both your sister and mother combined. No, I shall not eat you. The Tal family is stronger with you leading it. Your time will come, child. My eyes see great potential.”
The dragon pricked one of its fingers on her other hand and a small bead of blood formed. “Drink, daught'r of the dragon. My gift to you. My life essence will awaken what lies dormant.” Kira hesitated. Why me? She slowly leaned toward the blood and stopped. What am I doing? She shook her head to be rid of her doubts and drank. “Now sleep and when you awaken you will be in your own bed.” What did she mean, “daughter” of the dragon? Before she could pull her head away from the bloodied claw she was asleep.
****
Kira hadn't dreamt or thought of her Gnoxel in years. She awoke in absolute darkness. This time it was different. She shook her head. Her hands were tied behind her back and there was a hood over her head. She could hear voices, speaking in a slave tongue. Two males, but she couldn't make out what they were talking about. They were referring to a game called poker, but she'd never heard of it. The voices grew closer. Where am I? Why can't I remember? She calmed herself with a little meditation. She tried to remove the hood with her knees, but she kept pulling dreads along with the hood; she needed her hands. The voices were almost on top of her. She heard the rustle of fabric, and then a faint hint of light. She sprung toward the light. Kira was only there for a moment before one of the men pulled the hood from her head. The two men stood side-by-side looking at her. The Mexican she remembered, but the other one she didn't know. There was something about him, though--he was no ordinary male. She thought she sensed something.
“Damn,” Khayin said in perfect English.
Chapter 3 The Accomplice
The orange light of dawn slowly crept up over the horizon. Khayin could feel the heat of what the day would bring and the sun hadn't even shown its face. Khayin lit another cigarette and glanced at the captive in the cell wagon before nodding to Juan.
“Alright, Juan, let me go settle up and grab my gear.” He took a long drag on his cigarette. “Grab that horse and put it next to Chewie over there.” Khayin motioned toward his horse that was tied to an old cement pole.
“Chewie?” Juan asked.
“My horse, idjit. Then I'll give you a hand with her.” He thumbed to the covered wagon. Juan just nodded.
Khayin finished his cigarette and flicked the butt. He stepped back into El Diablo's dank and stuffy interior. There were three patrons left but all of them seemed they were getting ready to call it a night. Maria hastily cleared off and cleaned tables. The bounty hunter made his way to the bar and tapped the counter to get the bartender's attention.
“How much do I owe ya?” Khayin asked as he untied his money pouch from his belt. Poker chips were the universal currency in the Americas.
The bartender was also the owner. His name was Jesus, which Khayin thought was hilarious considering the name of the bar. Jesus was a short, stout man with a gruff voice. Despite his look, which closely resembled a cartel muscleman, he was actually quite personable and good for conversation. He finished wiping a glass and walked over to Khayin. He stopped short a few feet away and squatted down below the bar. When he resurfaced a second later he held a small duffle bag. Jesus took the last few steps and dropped the bag onto the counter.
“Two hundred fifty chips,” he said matter-of-factly.
Khayin fished out a couple chips for that amount plus a little extra and dropped them into Jesus' hand. “Thanks for the hospitality,” he said with a tip of his hat. Jesus grinned and then quickly went back to work, disappearing into a back room.
Khayin opened his bag and started to rummage through it. Before he could strap on any gear he felt something wet, soft and heavy hit the back of his neck. A wet rag lay at his feet, and he turned to see Maria standing with her fists on her hips and wearing a scowl. They were the only two left in the bar.
“What's that for?” Khayin asked as he rubbed his now very wet neck.
“What were you thinking, grabbing my ass like that?” She scolded.
“The flirting was your idea, I was just playing the part,” he defended.
“The part of what? A dick? An asshole? Come on, you're better than the usual scum that comes in here.” The scowl melted from her face.
“Me? You're the one that was hanging all over me, practically shoving your cleavage in my face.” He regretted the words before they fully came out of his mouth, but the lack of sleep and being slightly drunk from the horrid whiskey did him no favors.
Her face turned red and she started toward him. “What'd you say?”
“Nothing.” Khayin nervously recoiled from her approach, but his back was against the bar and he wasn't going anywhere. “I said nothing. Really. I'm sorry.”
“I spent the last seven hours slipping you cards and peeking at hands and you have the nerve...”
He didn't let her finish. “I'm stupid and all the other things you called me. I'm sorry. You were a great partner and I couldn't have done this without you.” His expression was pleading. He truly was sorry and this episode was just a reminder of why he didn’t make it a habit of prolonging games—he got stupid.
“Khayin, if I didn't know you as well as I do...” she started.
“I know, you don't have to say it.” He reached behind him and grabbed one of the bags of chips. He handed the bag to her. “Here, take it. You earned it.”
“Don't insult me. You can't buy me off like some puta.” Her face remained fierce, but her fists relaxed and fell from her hips.
“That's not what I'm trying to do and you know it.”
“Yep, I know it, but you will not live this one down, gilipollas.” Maria swiftly closed the gap between them and grabbed the bag. “Is there really a bounty of a Hag out there?”
“I don't know what she is, but there's something fishy about that poster. Whoever or whatever she is, she is better off with me than with Juan.” He looked toward the door.
“I agree. You planning on taking her in?” she asked.
“Where?” Khayin shook his head. “No, I think I'll check in with Codex, see if she knows anything.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” She bent over and picked up the wet rag she threw at him earlier. “I'm not apologizing for throwing this at you. I should kick your culo.”
“And I'd deserve it.”
“Damn straight.” She smiled and went back to work.
Khayin wondered if in another time, another place, if circumstances were different, if he and Maria would have ended up together. He liked her, maybe too much, but...He shook his head to clear his mind of a life of love and settling down.
Khayin started to pull out weapons from his bag and strapped them on. Two .44 Magnum Revolvers, six throwing knives, two bolas for those pesky runaway marks, two kukri daggers, and an ancient looking dagger made of a human femur. All but the bolas had a secure and efficient place on his body. His weapons were too valuable to him to leave them with his horse. Things had a way of disappearing in this town.
Before he walked out the door Khayin got a sudden flash of images. His falcon showed him what chaos was starting to brew ou
tside. The falcon had been a gift from a Native American medicine man, and he and the falcon had bonded almost immediately. Khayin could see through his eyes and give him simple commands. The bird of prey was just out front watching a fight unfold. He saw Juan lying prone on the ground beneath the now open door to the cell wagon and two men dragging out a kicking and flailing woman, the Schadovitch Hag. One other man stood back toward the entrance to the bar watching.
Khayin checked himself over one last time before he exited. The dawn's morning sun peeked out just a bit over the horizon. It was much brighter than it had been earlier. He squinted toward the scene just as the woman screamed. It was clear that she was screaming not out of fear, but in anger. No, rage. She was yelling something at the top of her lungs, but Khayin couldn't make it out, even with his magic earring, a wonder that translated all languages spoken from him or to him. He wasn't going to wait to find out what she was saying.
Khayin stood there, twenty paces from the entrance to the bar. Thanks to his falcon he saw everything and everyone.
“So, which one of you idjits thought that this was a good idea?” Khayin lit another cigarette. The two men who carried the woman did a poor job. She was putting up one hell of a fight. One of the men, wearing a cowboy hat, held her upper body. He hooked his arms under her armpits and lifted her. The other man, who wore pea green coveralls, was trying to hold her feet. His face was a bloody mess and he only had a grip on one leg. Khayin had to stifle a laugh. The two men just glared at the bounty hunter.
“She killed Juan, bounty hunter.” The voice came from behind him, but Khayin didn't turn around. “She deserves to be punished,” the voice said as if that was the only explanation required.
Khayin looked at Juan's body splayed out on the ground beneath the wagon. He took a drag from his cigarette and flicked some ash onto the ground. “A captive who seizes an opportunity to take out their captor…” he said plainly. “You'd do the same if roles were reversed, would you not?”
