“Nah, it’s fine. Come on. Let’s cross,” Will said, moving toward the boat.
“Need a hand?” Kate asked, moving to his side, suddenly fearful he’d fall into the river and get swept away.
“I’m not crippled yet, Kate,” he joked, smiling at her before he leapt onto the boat. It dipped and swayed with his weight.
“What do you mean ‘yet’? Is that some sort of hint? Are you going to become crippled?”
He turned to peer at her after he’d picked up the pole and dug one end of it into the river bottom. A haunted look crossed his eyes. Lifting a shoulder nonchalantly, he said, “Rumors. That’s all they are.”
“Tell me,” she pled.
“Just—some people claim that the further we get from Necropolis, the more our bodies decay. But who would know that? I hardly believe it. Anyone that would get far enough away to find that out would never come back. Right? That’s what I think.” He frowned but in a flash it was gone, replaced by a grin. “I’m really happy to see you, Kate. Thanks. Thank you, for coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, choosing not to say anything about the bodily decay notion. She had no idea what to do with that information. What she had to concentrate on now was getting away from Necropolis and the demons. She climbed into the boat and as she did, glanced back the way they’d come.
“Shit,” she said. “They’re already coming after us. Leonardo said we’d probably get across the river before that happened.” That’s what we get for dawdling on the riverbank, she thought. Kate jumped—more of a fall, really; she never was good at water sports—into the boat, dinging her shin on the outside rim and stumbling to her knees. She got to her feet and surveyed their perpetrators. It was a motley group of Cipher’s minions galloping toward them as though out of some nightmare scene in a zombie movie, waving axes and maces over their heads.
“Get the rope!” Will shouted. Kate went to work untying the thick rope that secured the ferryboat to the small dock and coiled it on the floor of their boat. “Ready?” Will asked.
“Go for it,” Kate urged, glancing back at the shore.
Will pushed off from the river bottom as the demons trampled down the hill and reached the dock, their feet pounding out a thunderous death march. Will stood in the lead end of the boat, while Kate’s back faced the shore. She carefully lowered herself to the boarded floor—which appeared to be made from planed long-bones—and hung onto the sides of the boat as Will pushed them several boat-lengths from the dock. She twisted back toward the shore, watching with her stomach at the bottoms of her feet. Can they swim? she wondered.
The boat cut through the wide, flowing river quietly for a while. Besides the sound of the pole swishing through the water as Will propelled them, the only other noise came from the howling demons back on the shore. Their cries of frustration answering the swimming question.
“So, I think this is a thigh bone,” Kate observed, patting the rail she held onto, trying to forget that they had almost been overrun by crazed minions.
“Kate, please, that’s disgusting,” Will laughed morbidly. “Just, please, don’t try to figure out which bones they are. I’m trying to forget that it’s bone in the first place,” he said, using the long pole to propel them over the dark red water.
“Do you think that pole you’re using is a bone?”
“Knock it off,” he laughed.
“Maybe it came from a saguaro cactus. Or a dinosaur? No really, saguaros have ribs that are straight and long like that. But everything else is bone on the boat, so that’s probably bone too. But from what?” She put a finger to her bottom lip, thoughtful. “A giraffe?”
“You have no mercy, woman,” Will said. “Despite that, I’d kiss you right now if I could.”
“Well, don’t stop for intimate activities like that. The hounds of hell are still on our tail.”
Behind them, the demons stamped their feet on the dock and howled even louder. “You’re dead! Dead! You hear me?” one of them yelled.
Kate shivered. “Idiots. You’re already dead. They’re obviously not smart demons. Anyway, we did make it,” she said. “Barely.”
“Let’s not rest on our laurels yet. They’ll figure out a way to keep chasing us.” He looked past Kate toward the dock.
“Don’t say that,” Kate whispered. “Let’s pretend they won’t and just keep going. Maybe they’ll drown. Or maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll give up.”
Will shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve seen his minions at work. They seem stupid, but they’re depressingly resourceful.”
“I heard they’re dumb. That’s why they work for Cipher,” Kate said.
He chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to egg them on. Too bad they can’t hear you. There are probably a few more surprises awaiting us ahead.” Will bent his shoulder into the work.
“If I didn’t know better, Will, I’d say you gave up before I even got here.” Kate saw him flinch and knew that her retort dug at old wounds.
Will frowned and shook his head. “No. I’m a realist, that’s all.”
Will poled them along as fast as he could. Kate watched him work, torn between frustration at his pronouncements and appreciating the way his body moved as he guided them through the river. Twist the pole out of the water, angle it into the water, watch it hit the bottom, pull the boat forward, repeat. A mist began to flow off the surface of the water ahead as Will poled them toward it and soon she could no longer appreciate the physical nature of his work.
“This will hide us from them,” Kate whispered, hoping her tone was low enough to keep them concealed.
“Or get us lost,” Will answered, breathless.
“You have no faith, Will.”
“After what I’ve been through, is that a surprise? I’d have more faith if heaven had intervened and prevented me from this hell,” he said.
“What, you mean I’m not a heavenly messenger sent just for that purpose? I came for you. Doesn’t that mean anything? Doesn’t that give you hope?”
“It should,” he admitted, pausing to rest. He was just a silhouette through the mist, but there was a self-conscience tone in the next words he said. “I just . . . when I finally saw you in the flesh, I wanted it to be better. I wanted to have the chance to hold you the way I did in our dreams. I hoped that you would come for me while I was in my house. A poorly furnished, somewhat dismal home, yes, but at least I could have held you. Instead the first time I saw you in the flesh, I was in Cipher’s presence. A prisoner.”
Kate was quiet. The mist engulfed them. They could barely see each other across the hull of the ferryboat. Will kept pushing them forward, muttering that he hoped they were heading in the right direction.
Kate finally spoke. “I wanted it to be different too, Will, I won’t lie to you. This is scary shit, honestly, but I’m happy right now. Underneath the fear and exhaustion, I’m ecstatic. Because you’re alive.”
A screech from above pierced the mist and startled Kate. She stood halfway and the boat rocked beneath her. This was too exhausting. More than a day had passed without much food and her water supply was discouragingly sparse. When nothing more happened, she lowered herself back down and pulled her pack off delicately. She found a granola bar in one of the small front pockets, opened it quietly, and shoved it into her mouth.
“I have no idea what’s next, but I think I’m going to need this,” she said, chewing slowly as though the sound might alert the screaming beast to their location.
“Cipher’s dragons,” Will whispered, standing still, letting their boat drift with the current.
“We’ve met. When I got here, a dragon was the first to see me as I was climbing the wall around Necropolis,” Kate told him.
Will crouched, rested the pole horizontally across his knees with one hand on the hilt of his sword. Kate could almost see up his skirt. If it hadn’t been so misty and things mere shadows, she would have.
“You scaled the walls?” Will aske
d, his voice full of admiration.
“How’d you think I got in here?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe a tunnel, maybe the one we left through, or some secret tunnel only Leonardo knows about?”
“The dragonfly didn’t seem to know of any,” Kate said. She threw the granola bar wrapper over the side of the boat—she felt no responsibility to keep Chthonos’ waters pure and nature pristine.
The boat hit something and Will crashed backward, knocking into Kate. She caught him, her heart pounding in fear, and together they stood up.
“It’s OK. The shore. The bank on the other side,” Will whispered, leaning to see over the edge of the boat.
They paused for a moment, standing together in the boat as it rocked gently back and forth, still not quite out of the water. Will pulled her close, murmuring something about finally having a second to properly welcome her into his world. He lifted her chin, stared into her eyes, and his vibrant blue gaze set her heart on fire. He kissed her indulgently before pulling away. “I missed you.”
Kate teetered, the excitement draining her strength. She crouched low and held onto the edge of the boat as Will jumped out and pulled it the rest of the way out of water. The sulphuric smell was stronger on the shore and the water hissed when it touched Will’s feet. “Ow,” he said, wearing only sandals. “Good thing I’m dead already.”
“I’m still not quite sure how that works,” Kate remarked as she jumped onto the shore, glanced back at the boat and found her cell phone in the stow pocket on her backpack waist strap. She snapped a picture.
They crept along over black pebbles littering the shore, trying to be quiet, and climbed up the slight incline until they came to level ground. The mist clung to everything, including them, swirling in eddies around them as their bodies disturbed it.
“Where to next?” Will asked.
“Straight ahead, I guess, if we can tell what that is,” Kate answered. She took his hand as they began to cross the dark, furrowed earth.
“You guess?” he repeated.
“It’s hard to tell with the mist. All he told me was to head away from the river.”
“All right. We should just keep going, to stay ahead of the demons,” Will said, squeezing her hand and taking the lead. Kate let him.
They’d walked perhaps a hundred yards before Kate paused.
“What’s that?” she asked, hearing a strange noise.
“What?”
It was a roar of wind. The whooshing sound of great wings tearing through the air. Kate’s legs stopped on their own and she swore. The mist blew away as a great leathery winged beast landed fifteen feet in front of them. Its wings folded and its pale golden eyes stared at them, blinking as though unimpressed, as though it knew what sort of pitiful fight these two would put up. Opening its ancient mouth, the beast let out a shriek.
29: Battle
When the Jurassic sound ceased, Kate somehow found her voice. “Well, at least it didn’t fry us with a huge river of flame.”
“Sarcasm? Right now?” Will asked in a wry tone.
“Still, you have to agree,” she said, beginning to back away.
“Do we want to run? I doubt it will kill us if we surrender, but if we run . . . “ he trailed off, keeping his eyes on the dragon as he backed away, keeping Kate behind him.
“You don’t think we should just give up, do you?”
“No, no, I just don’t want to end up barbecued by our little friend here, that’s all.”
The dragon lowered its head and began to strut toward them. Kate glanced at Will. “What now?” Her eyes fell on his costume. “Your sword! Is it real?”
Keeping his eyes on the beast, Will drew the sword. “No cheap imitations here, doll. Good thinking. I forgot I had the thing.” He pointed the sword at the dragon. The creature stopped and cocked its head in a bewildered posture. “Problem is I have no idea how to use it. Look, I’ll distract the lizard and you run for cover into the fog.” He grunted and waved the sword back and forth before the dragon’s looming head, stretched out toward them like an angry goose. The motion caused it to halt in its tracks.
“No way,” Kate said. “I’m staying. You think I’d leave you now? Because this shit just got real?”
“Kate, please, I can’t keep track of you and this dragon,” Will said. Again the dragon moved toward them. They both shuffled backward, slowly. Kate tripped on loose rock and debris and fell backward, catching herself with one hand on the hot ground. “I’m guessing you haven’t got any grenades in your pack?” Will swung at the dragon’s nose again.
“I wish I were that prepared.” Kate wondered when it would get fed up and spew scorching flames on them.
As though in answer, the dragon’s head drew back like it was coiling for attack. Kate crouched lower and held her ground. She had no idea how to fight a dragon. Did anyone?
It lunged for her, its maw opening wide, she held her ground, waiting to make the right move. At the last second, she dodged to the side and caught herself on outstretched hands, rolling to the side.
“Kate!” Will bellowed.
The dragon didn’t give up as she lay there, out of its reach. She rolled and rolled, a motion hindered by her pack, making her move like a lopsided bike tire. The rolling became a slide as she kicked with her feet and pushed with her hands as the beast rushed at her with a surprising litheness.
It turned suddenly, it’s long, sinuous neck swinging around to look at Will. Kate scrambled to her feet, covered in hot dirt and ash, her body sweating profusely at the contact with the scorched earth. She shrugged out of her pack and left it on the ground—something she should have done before things got this far. Will was in the process of lightly dodging quick jabs of the dragon’s head and slashing at it with the sword as it pulled back. Around them the mist continued to curl and swirl as their legs and arms kicked up gusts of air.
“Kate!” Will yelled again. “Are you OK?” Perspiration dripped from his face. He never took his eyes from his quarry.
She grunted in response, too focused on trying to come up with a plan to form words.
“Be careful,” he shouted.
“Right,” she muttered, scanning the ground near her. “Great advice.” There had to be something she could use to fight the beast. A stick? Rocks? She kicked through the black debris, looking for fist-sized stones, picked up a few and tested them for heft.
“What are you doing?” Will grunted, breathless, dodging a wide swing from the dragon’s tail. The beast wielded it like a whip.
Kate glanced at him. He swung his sword wide before stumbling backwards, and jumping away from a particularly lethal looking lunge from the dragon. He was in no shape to be fighting a dragon—how did the Spartans think their uniforms could protect them? Or was that just a joke played on them by their emperors?
“Making do,” Kate called back. She glanced up in time to see the tip of the dragon’s tail slashed across Will’s bicep. A bright line of blood appeared, but Will fought on, apparently oblivious to it.
“They’re weakest in their eyes, Kate. There’s also a hole in their skull, above their eyes, where the gladiators stab them during battles. It looks like an indentation in their skin.” Will jumped wide and fell into a roll as the dragon stamped toward him in a series of tail-whips and maw-snaps.
Kate studied the creature, feeling panic swirl around in her chest—she wanted to stop the fight, to save Will before something worse happened, but she had to be calm and collected. She needed to not be clouded by passion. Why didn’t I carry a spare sword in my pack? she wondered, regretfully. A sword? If I’m bemoaning what I don’t have, why not a machine gun? That would certainly work better than a damn sword.
She rolled the rock around in her hand and looked for the spot Will mentioned. Their dodge and swipe fight continued and the dragon seemed oblivious to her fifteen paces away from where they battled. For a moment, the creature’s head swung around and it stared at her with those liquid golden eyes
. An attack at its neck from a roaring Will made it scramble free of his onslaught.
“Kate, if you’re going to help, now’s the time. Not sure how much longer I can keep this up,” Will called, a note of exhaustion creeping into his voice.
How many chances did she have—one? Three?—before the lizard decided she was a real threat and came for her?
Kate sighted in on her target. She took several calming breaths that stilled her, then muttered a prayer, took a lungful of air, wound up like a pitcher and let the stone fly toward the dragon’s head where it loomed snake-like before Will. The rock struck it just below one eye and the creature’s head swept toward her with an ear-piercing scream. It was surprised, offended, wounded. But perfectly fine, as though Kate had tossed a kids’ bouncy ball at it.
The beast charged for her, still crying out in that offended tone, as though it had only come for tea and here she was throwing stones at it like a total jerk.
“No!” Will roared, lifting his sword in one hand, reaching high for the weak spot in its skull, but losing all grace and control in the wild attack. The dragon’s head snapped around at the last minute and in a surprise twist of its nimble neck, dodged the sword and snapped off Will’s arm. He screamed and fell to his knees as blood began to ooze from the severed arteries and bone.
“Will, no, no, no,” Kate cried, her voice catching. This was her fault. Will’s arm . . . he’s going to die, again, because of her . . .
“Kate,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice a groan of anguish. “Now, now’s your chance.”
He was right. The dragon had tossed the severed arm aside, and with it, the sword. Both of them lay just six feet from Kate. She peered at it through fuzzy, teary eyes, noting that Will’s fingers were still clenched around the hilt. With a swallow, she strode forward purposefully, and without dwelling on it too much, she pried his fingers loose and lifted the sword. She faced the dragon and the wounded Will who was weakly fighting off the dragon with his remaining hand.
A Boat Made of Bone (The Chthonic Saga) Page 35
