8 Gone is the Witch

by Dana E. Donovan

  “I told you. It’s the circle of consequence. You’ve seen it yourself since you’ve been here, how you were able to drag the fire off a log with just a point of your finger.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, let’s face it, Carlos, you’re no witch. Imagine someone with real powers of paranormal proportions. Michael and Travis were masters of psychokinetic manipulation. Barbara could see into the future. Valerie wrote the book on psychometric disciplines. Doctor Lowell acquired all of their powers and more through the law of contagion when he killed them. And those are just the victims we know about.”

  “I see. So by completing the circle here in the ES during the height of the decussate, you believe it will both solidify and magnify his powers.”

  “Ten-fold, if not more.”

  “Huh. All right then.” Carlos nodded in the direction of the fortress. “`Spose we ought to get going then and stop that madman. Come on. Time’s-a-wasting.”

  We picked ourselves up off the bank and headed for the rocky peaks not so far away. Getting to it, however, meant a trek through some of the thickest woods yet encountered.

  Carlos took the lead. Ursula fell in behind him, with Jerome, Tony and me pulling up the rear. In this more challenging hike, I could see that Tony’s ankle was really bothering him. I thought it strange that even after several weeks on his own where his hand had time to heal, his ankle had not. I felt I had to ask.

  “How bad is it?”

  “What, our situation?”

  “No. I know our situation sucks. I’m talking about your ankle. It’s not getting any better, is it?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Stop lying to me. How bad?”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  I stepped in front of him to block his path, cupped his balls in my hand and squeezed.

  “Oww! Lilith, what the...”

  The others stopped to look back at us. I waved them on. “Keep going. We’ll catch up.”

  I eased my grip but didn’t let go. “How bad?”

  “All right. Fine. It’s broken. It hurts like hell. The only thing that hurts more right now are my nuts.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I let go. “Let me see.” I started to lift his robe. He slapped my hand and pulled it back down.

  “They’re fine, thank you.”

  “Not your balls, stupid! Your ankle!”

  “Oh.” He rested his hand on my shoulder and lifted his foot.

  “Yeah, it’s swollen all right,” I said.

  “I told you it’s broken.”

  “Does this hurt?” I placed my thumb on his ankle and pressed.”

  “Auh! Damn it, Lilith. I said it hurts!”

  “Yeah, you also said it’s broken. It’s not broken.”

  “It sure feels broken.”

  “That’s because you’ve been walking on it for three days, or three weeks, whatever the hell it’s been. You should have made a crutch.”

  “I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

  “Yeah, like we won’t worry now.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll just––”

  A commotion ahead snared our attention, prompting Tony and me to rush to catch up with the others. I found Carlos with his arms around Ursula. Her hands were quivering.

  “What’s going on?” I pried the two apart and took Ursula in my arms. “Are you all right?”

  “She’s fine,” said Carlos.

  “What happened?”

  Ursula said, “He did start my fright, is all.”

  “Who, Carlos?”

  “No. Jerome.”

  “Frog boy?”

  Carlos put his hand on Jerome’s shoulder and pulled him against his leg. “I’ll have you know that this frog boy you like to make fun of so much just saved Ursula’s life. So show some respect.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry. Mister Frog boy.” I looked down at Jerome. “We good, pip-squeak?”

  He bobbed his head and smiled.

  “See, he’s fine.”

  “That’s nice, everybody’s good,” said Tony. “Now, will someone tell me what’s going on here?”

  Carlos said, “We’ve walked into a minefield.”

  “Where?”

  “Here!” He splayed his hands in a broad sweep to encompass the entire woods. “This is kumoru country. See that?” He pointed to an innocuous spot on the ground that looked like any other. “That’s a kumoru. Step on it and it’s sayonara señora, adios la cucaracha, arrivederci––”

  “All right, Carlos. I get it.”

  “Good, because I couldn’t think of a word that rhymes with arrivederci.”

  Tony edged up to the harmless looking plant, which blended seamlessly with the rest of the ground clutter. “So that’s the mighty kumoru, eh? Doesn’t look so big and bad.”

  “Well it is. Ursula was just about to step on it when Jerome tackled her to keep her from turning herself into confetti.”

  “Really?”

  Jerome pulled on Tony’s robe to coax him away from the plant. He then snatched up a mouse-sized lizard and returned it to the spot only inches from where they were just standing.

  “You watch,” he said, as he held the lizard by the tail over the kumoru and let it drop. He backed away quickly, putting three feet between him and the kumoru before the lizard hit the pad.

  It was the damnedest thing, I swear, and funny, too. The kumoru exploded. The lizard shot off like a bottle rocket over the treetops. At the pinnacle of flight, a tiny grey ball mushroomed open and rained down in a cloud of ash so fine you could hardly see it.

  “Ouch,” said Tony. “That would hurt.”

  “Probably not,” Carlos said. “I doubt you’d even know what hit you.”

  Ursula knelt down and hugged Jerome. “Thanks be to you, my friend. I am to thee forever indebted.”

  “Jerome do good?”

  “Yeah,” I said, feeling obliged to choke on some humble pie. “I guess you’re not such a bad egg. In fact, you’re okay in my book.”

  Directly above us, the sky ripped open with a crack of thunder that shook the ground to its core. Deeper in the forest, several kumoru plants erupted spontaneously, their explosions triggered by seismic vibrations and loose debris falling from the tree.

  “Look,” said Carlos, staring up at the streaks of orange light in the sky.

  “Yeah, what is that?”

  “A new dawn,” I said. “And a new day of perils. There’s going to be more of those types of explosions. We should get a move on.” I turned to Jerome. “You lead, Kermit. Keep those gyroscopic peepers of yours on the lookout for the kumoru. We’ve only another mile or so before we reach the fortress. I want us all to get there in one piece. Capish?”

  Jerome looked up at me and smiled. “Fish.”

  “Close enough.”

  As we walked by, I pointed to a peculiar-looking tree standing next to the exploded kumoru. It was small and oddly bent, grayish in color and lacking leaves of any kind. “Is that a Snitch tree?”

  “Snitch tree,” Jerome said, confirming my suspicions.

  “Okay everyone, remember that. The Snitch tree is your friend. It’ll let you know where not to step.”

  We headed out.

  As I mentioned, I believed the fortress was only a mile or so from our position on the riverbank. Although the woods were thick, I felt we were making exceptional time in our travels. So why, I asked myself after hours of walking, had we not yet emerged into the clearing surrounding the fortress?

  “Lilith?” Apparently, I was not the only one wondering.

  “Yes, Tony.”

  “Are we going in circles?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t think so.” I pointed up. “Those cracks in the sky give us some reference of direction now. I think we’re going in a straight line.”

  “What if the sky’s rotating?”

  “Good point.” I held my hand up to stop the procession and called for Jerome to wait up. “Let’s take a break here,” I said, as the others
gathered around.

  Carlos, who appeared more than ready for a rest, seconded the motion. Only when he took a seat on a nearby log did I realize how extraordinary haggard and out of breath he appeared.

  He looked visibly shaken, and obviously weaker than when we first started out from the river. In my haste to get to the fortress, I had forgotten how much quicker the ES had aged Carlos compared to the rest of us.

  Tony sat down on the log beside him. “You okay, buddy?”

  He waved him off. “Fine as frog hair. You know me. I get a little weak when I’m hungry.” He patted his stomach. “I’ve been meaning to go on a diet anyway.”

  “You know...” I reached into my burlap sack and fished around the bottom. “I think I still have a piece of fruit in here. You’re welcome to it.” I pulled it out and handed it to him.

  “Oh, no,” he murmured, turning it over in his hands. “I couldn’t. If anything, you girls ought to share it.” He tried to hand it back to me. I pulled away, leaving his arm outstretched and trembling.

  “Uh-uh. Not hungry, go for it.”

  Ursula said, “Aye, `tis strange, but I want for naught thy food or drink.” She palmed her stomach and orbited her hand. “What last we did feast on, doth fill me still.”

  “Yeah,” said Tony. “This is not an equal opportunity experience. I know the ES is harder on some of us than on others. You need your strength.”

  Carlos lowered his arm and held the fruit close to his chest. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  Jerome padded up to him.

  “Amigo.” He cupped his hand under Carlos’ and lifted the brobble to his lips. “Amigo eat.”

  Carlos is a humble soul, really, modest and unpretentious, though in a look-at-me playful way sometimes. He’s unselfish, if not frugal to the point of stingy when it concerns himself.

  But most of all, Carlos is proud. He’s proud of who he is, where he came from and how he got where he is, on his own with no one’s help whatsoever.

  To see him sitting on that log, deflated, nearly defeated and holding the last piece of food we owned... well. I turned my back to afford him the dignity he deserved. The others, sensing my reason, also turned.

  “See there,” I said to Tony. I pointed to one of the treetops. “It aligns with the tip of the longest fracture there in the atmosphere. We’ll give it a few minutes; see if the sky is rotating or drifting lineally.”

  “Already on it,” said Tony. “It hasn’t moved since we stopped here.”

  “It doesn’t make sense then. Why haven’t we reached the clearing yet?”

  “What’s there to make sense? This is the Eighth Sphere.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I turned around to see Carlos wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He had devoured the brobble fruit seeds and all.

  “Hark!” Ursula pitched her ear towards the woods behind her. “Methinks I heard something.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” I said. “What was it?”

  “Be it a twig, mayhaps, under heavy foot?”

  Another twig snapped among the trees some thirty degrees from the first.

  “I heard it that time,” said Tony.

  Carlos stood and un-holstered his weapon, drawing a bead out in the darkness, but not knowing exactly where to aim.

  I came around Ursula, eased her back a step and then spun up a compact little zip ball. “Tony?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you give me a hand?”

  Ursula quickly inserted herself between us. “Three art better than two, is it not?”

  They held their hands out and produced perfect specimens complete with wiry strands of static energy arcing from one zip ball to the other.

  “Nice touch,” I said. “Now give it a spin counterclockwise. That will increase the light output.”

  We gave our respective zip balls a gentle poke, coaxing them into a spin as they hovered on a paper-thin cushion of air in our palms. Off to my right, another twig snapped. I pointed in that direction.

  “There! Let`em rip!”

  In perfect unison, we wound back and fired the zips into the woods. Ursula’s and mine went about twenty feet, Tony’s about thirty. They exploded in quick succession, illuminating the night in lightning-bright flashes lasting several seconds each. Buried among the trees, dozens of beady red eyes reflected back at us through the flash.

  We instinctively whipped up another couple of zip balls and hurled them off into the woods again. Those landed a dozen yards further to the left and right of the first two, revealing still more glowing, red eyes.

  Jerome recognized the threat immediately. “Malodytes!” he yelled, pointing in every direction throughout the woods. “Malodytes!”

  At once, my brain conjured up images of those hairy, muscled-bound, gorilla-like monsters with saber-tooth fangs, hooked claws and beady Cyclops eye. I remembered how the creature tore Jessie James’ head off his shoulders just as easily as picking fruit off a tree. I imagined one of those creatures would be hard enough to kill, but an entire army? I just wasn’t feeling the love.

  “You all up for a run?” I said to the others.

  They were already backing away.

  “Maybe they’re friendly,” said Carlos.

  “Yeah, you want to go introduce yourself?”

  “No.”

  The first wave broke loose from the pack. Carlos took aim at the largest one and drilled six rounds into its chest. The ugly bastard staggered a bit, but then regained its footing.

  “I think you pissed him off,” I said.

  He shook his head, disappointed. “See, that’s the trouble with the ES. No one here has a sense of humor.”

  “Come!” said Jerome. “I go. You follow!”

  He turned and ran back into the woods in the direction we came from.

  “Anybody have a better idea?” I asked.

  “Hell no!” cried Carlos, and we took off running.

  We caught up with Jerome and followed him step-for-step through zigzagged trails that only he could decipher. We all knew what he was doing. We only hoped it would work.

  Thankfully, it did.

  Along with the sounds of heavy footfalls closing fast behind us, came the sweet boom, boom, boom of exploding kumoru plants, vaporizing one malodyte after the other and turning them into cosmic chalk dust.

  The plan seemed flawless, except for one thing. No matter how many of the drooling, horn-headed beasts we blew up, the damn things just kept on coming. I feared Jerome would run out of kumoru plants before we ran out of malodytes.

  But the little fucker was smarter than the average frog. After zigzagging through the minefield and taking out thirty or forty of the beasts, he still had one ace up his sleeve.

  He changed course, retreading old steps and even overlapping once forbidden ones that were now clear.

  The malodytes followed, but it turns out, as muscular as they are, malodytes are not so fast and they’re not especially smart either.

  Jerome directed us in circles, working from an outside perimeter of a hundred feet, down to a patch of ground barely ten feet across. In the process, nearly all the malodytes had taken the bait and met their fate on the pad of a broad-leaf kumoru.

  Nearly all.

  Six remained.

  In a stroke of pure genius, Jerome had effectively herded us onto an island of safety. In the absolute heart of kumoru country, he had worked us to the center of the thickest patch. All around, in every direction, lay a minefield of unexploded kumoru pads. For the malodytes to step foot towards us meant certain death for the lot of them.

  Ah, but what am I always saying about the ES? Nothing is what it seems. Okay, I don’t always say that, but I think I’ll start.

  We had come to know malodytes as incredibly stupid animals––wild and vicious though they are, still, incredibly stupid.

  Enter the alpha malodyte, a breed above the rest. Alpha malodytes, or alphadytes, are enigmas of sorts. Although smaller than their cousins, they are leaner and more agile
and possess exceptional IQs.

  The six remaining creatures surrounding our circle were those alphadytes.

  I reached down and gave Jerome a pat on the back. “Nice going, kiddo. We got them right where we want them.”

  “No we don’t,” said Carlos. “I think it’s the other way around.”

  Tony backhanded him. “She’s being facetious. Do you have any bullets left?”

  He pulled his gun and dropped its clip. “No, it’s empty. You?”

  “I’m out, too. Lilith, can we hit`em with zips?”

  “We could try. Might take out one or two. It’s likely the others will simply hide and wait us out after that.”

  “I don’t see as we have a choice.”

  “Aye, methinks there be another,” said Ursula.

  “Oh? Let’s hear it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ursula’s plan for solving our alphadyte problem was simple, yet brilliant. It involved two of my favorite things: zip balls and explosions.

  “Doth thou remember this noon of late when the sky opened and thunder boomed?” she asked.

  “The start of Decussate Day,” I said, “of course.”

  “Did we not hear the bursts of many for what followed once the ground shook?”

  “The seismic reaction shaking the trees,” said Tony. “All the bark and branches that rained down from them hit the kumoru pads and triggered multiple explosions.”

  “Aye, and have we not the means and way for such a rain?”

  “Yes!” I said. “Ursula, you’re a peach, a beautiful, smart, sexy peach. What would we do without you?” I turned to Tony. “So we whip up a couple of zip balls, pitch them into the trees and––”

  “Four,” said Ursula.

  “What’s that?”

  She gestured a sweep of her hand around us. The alphadytes had spread themselves out equally about the circle. “Bring hard thy rain and not the least or fall a few and spare the beasts.”

  “You’re right.”

  “About what?” asked Carlos. “I don’t understand her.”

  “We need to launch four zips simultaneously over their heads for this to work. If we don’t bring down enough debris to set off all the pads with the first shot, we won’t kill them all. I’m afraid we’ll only get one chance.”