The snake turned toward me and began slithering in my direction. It opened its mouth wide and spewed out a nasty, greenish-yellow substance in a projectile manner. The spew landed about a foot away from where I stood and hissed when it hit the ground. I don’t know what that thing was spitting at me, but I didn’t want to find out.
“Emily, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this thing from eating me!” Jake yelled.
“Sorry, Jake, but I’m trying to keep this snake-thing from eating Fanny!”
“Snake thing? Where did that come from?” Jake asked.
“You didn’t see it come in?”
“No.”
“Maybe it was Owen’s monster to fight,” Greta said.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“I haven’t seen him since this started,” Greta said.
“Neither have I,” Jake said.
I got a sick feeling in my stomach just then. What if Owen was dead? What if he’d been killed in the first seconds of our arena battle from hell? I quickly looked around, but I saw no sign of Owen.
The thought that this terrible snake thing had killed Owen made me even more determined to terminate it. But it could spit acid, had one razor-sharp pincer left, a stinging tail, and it was pissed off at me.
As it came at me, I did a backward somersault and flew away from it and toward Jake. If I couldn’t kill it by myself, maybe we could use it to help us out.
“Jake, I’m coming over, and I’m bringing this venom-spewing snake-thing with me.”
“Great – that’s all I need.”
“It’ll be okay. We’re going to get them to help us. Now, try to get your creature between us and the snake.”
“I’ll try.”
I could hear Jake huff and puff with exertion.
Jake did what he could to shuffle himself around so that his opponent was between him and the snake creature. I landed softly behind Jake and quickly pushed him to the side and out of the way. I heard him land with a thud then holler, “Hey!” at me.
Before I could answer, I saw the snake unhinge its jaw, and the putrid goo came flying out of its mouth right toward me. At the same time, the large jackal-like creature that Jake had been fighting turned its attention to me and came at me with a snapping jaw. I had one chance. Don’t blow it. I sprang into the air as the green, flesh-eating acid flew toward me, and the jackal monster’s teeth grazed my back. I heard the hiss of the acid as it hit the jackal. I moved to where Jake was, grabbed him by the collar and bounded upward again.
I’d never tried my flying dervish trick while holding onto someone, but I didn’t have time to test it out. Maybe it was just my unshakable desire to save Jake, but from somewhere I found the strength to lift him. I sprang with him into the air and landed behind the snake creature.
As we landed, I could see a heap of flesh that used to be the jackal. I could hear it sizzling as the acid spew from the snake melted it. The odor, a combination of burning sulfur and roasted rotten flesh, was enough to burn out my nose hairs. The smell threatened to may my stomach upchuck whatever was left in it. Jake put his hand to his mouth. It looked like he, too, was holding back a puke.
It didn’t take the snake long to figure out we were behind it. It got its body turned around and headed in our direction.
“What are you going to do?”
“What I always do. Improvise.”
I had my dagger in my left hand and the broadsword in the right. The only thought that came to mind was to slice and dice like Madame Wong had shown me. I told Jake to move back, and he obeyed without discussion. As soon as he was several feet behind me, I began to swing my sword in a tight figure eight in front of me, and I commanded my dagger to become a shield that could withstand the demon snake’s venom.
I held the shield in my left hand in front of me, and I twirled the sword in my right. I heard the sound of the acidic spittle let loose from the beast’s maw. I held my shield in front of me, tight to my body, and I ducked my head and body securely behind it. I heard the acid hit the shield, but it didn’t penetrate. All the while, I had continued to twirl my sword. When the snake got close enough, I felt my sword connect with its flesh. I lowered my shield just enough so that I could see the creature. I’d sliced its other pincer off and part of its tongue, but the creature still lived.
I flung into the air and did a somersault. I landed on its back, riding the mega-snake like a skateboard. I faced its three-foot-long stinger of a tail. As it curled its stinger toward me, I swung the blade in a wide arc and cut its stinging tail clean off.
“Be careful, Em,” Jake hollered.
“Sure. Be careful while I ride a gargantuan snake from hell. No problem!”
The creature let out a shriek. It writhed wildly, its tail still curling toward me to sting with its now non-existent stinger. It whipped its head from side to side and tried to get its head flung around to spew its acid on me, but it couldn’t quite get to me.
I wasted no time. I turned and jabbed hard, thrusting the sword up to the hilt into the creature’s skull. I held on as the snake swung its head wildly, trying to free itself from me. I planted my feet on its body, held the sword hard and pulled downward, ripping open the scaly flesh of the snake creature. A greenish-yellow goo began to ooze out. I shot upward as fast as I could, unsure if the stuff gushing out was going to burn me alive or not.
The thing writhed and jerked for several minutes as it slowly gave up on living. I planted myself beside Jake, and we both stood for a minute in silence, trying hard to catch our breath.
The fans lining the seats of the arena went wild with applause and hollering.
“I think that was Owen’s monster,” I said.
“Yep,” Jake said as he made shallow swallows of air.
“If my count is right, that leaves one.”
“Greta’s,” Jake said.
I grabbed Jake again and shot up into the air, flying both of us to where Greta was still holding her own against a hulking mass of beast.
“About time you came,” Greta snarled.
“I’ve been a little busy,” I snarled back.
My sword was still stuck inside what used to be the snake creature. Greta had several gashes in her legs and arms, and she swung her sword wildly, flailing about in a mad and exhausted attempt to fend off the creature’s wide, teeth-filled jaws.
Greta had held her own and landed quite a few blows on the creature she was fighting. It was maybe the strangest-looking thing we’d seen in the arena. It looked like someone had taken an unusually large kangaroo, given it super long claws on its front legs and screwed a lion’s head onto it. It was able to bounce and bound high and away from Greta with its powerful back legs, punch and slash at her with its small but mighty front paws, and snap and tear with its large teeth.
“Keep it busy a few more minutes.”
“No problem. Why don’t you go have a manicure, maybe stop for a latte, while I defend my life!”
“I’m going to ignore your catty comments and save your ass anyway.” I swung myself onto the creature’s back, riding it like a bizarre cowboy in a surreal rodeo of death. It bucked and jumped wildly, trying to get me off its back. The only thing I could do was to grab onto its mane with both hands and hold on for dear life.
It jerked its head maniacally back and forth, trying hard to fling me off. I gripped its body hard with my legs. Man, why did I stop working out? My thighs screamed in pain from trying to hold on. I need a Thighmaster. My arms felt like rubber noodles, but I had to keep going.
I held tight with my left hand, gripping a large chunk of mane as I slashed with my dagger deep across the creature’s throat. I felt the gush of hot liquid on my hand holding the dagger and could actually hear the sound of the blood gurgling out. Despite the deep wound, the creature continued to try to buck me off and still hopped about. After a few minutes, it finally began to sway. I hopped off its back as it fell over on its side, the dark crimson blood still bubbling out of its neck
.
I staggered over to where Jake and Greta stood panting, trying to catch enough of the foul air to fill their aching, burning lungs. We were silent except for the sound of our rasping breath.
Our clothes were torn, ripped and covered in blood, some our own and some from the strange beasts we’d slain. I had a nasty gash in my left shoulder and a few scrapes, but all things considered, I was doing okay. Jake and Greta were both covered in scratches and bruises from head to toe, but they, too, were okay. We were lucky to still be alive.
We again heard the sound of the crowd going nuts with applause and hoots and hollers.
“Hey, Adams,” Greta broke in.
“Yeah?”
“Um … thanks for saving my butt.”
I didn’t know what to say. Greta thanking me? I never thought I’d live to see the day when Greta Hoffman, a.k.a. Greta the Charming would thank me. Of course, I never thought I’d live to see the day when I’d be fighting a kangaroo with a lion’s head either.
“No problem,” was all I could manage to say.
“Em?” I heard a voice call out weakly.
“Fanny,” I said as I looked at Jake.
All three of us ran to her. I knelt beside her and scooped her into my arms again, holding her on my lap.
“Greta, I still don’t understand how she became paralyzed. What happened?”
“I don’t know. We landed in the dust of this Godforsaken place, and Fanny started laying into me for hitching a ride.”
“As she should. You weren’t invited.”
“Whatever. You going to send me back, ’cause I sure as heck wish you would.”
Silence.
“Go on. Tell us what happened,” Jake said.
“We argued for a while, but that got us nowhere. So we started to talk about how to get the heck out of this place. We finally agreed to start walking and try to find Freak Girl – I mean Emily – ’cause if she got us into this mess, she should be the one to get us out. We started calling, trying to find her.”
“So you were just walking and calling for Emily? Nothing else happened before you got here?” Jake asked.
“No.”
Jake persisted, apparently determined to figure out how Greta and Fanny had gotten sucked into the damnable arena in the first place.
“Were you talking about anything?”
“Not much. After quite a while of walking in what seemed like circles, we talked about feeling afraid – afraid we’d never get out of this hell.”
“You talked about being afraid?” Jake cut in.
Greta nodded. “The next thing I knew, we got sucked up, and twisted and pulled, then spit out here, in this arena. And a beast ran toward us out of that gate over there. That’s when I looked down. Fanny was on the ground, helpless and screaming that she couldn’t move.”
“But why her? All of us have been through the twisting and pulling. None of the rest of us got paralyzed,” I said.
“True,” Jake said. “But what if that’s what Fanny was afraid of? What if being unable to move is her nightmare?”
“Fanny, is that true? Is this your nightmare?”
“I didn’t know that it was. I mean it’s not like I’ve ever thought much about what I’m afraid of.”
“Yeah, ’cause you don’t seem like you’re afraid of anything,” Jake said.
“But, yeah, I guess if I was to stop and think about what I’d hate the most, this is it,” Fanny said as tears welled fresh in her eyes. “Em, what if I’m stuck this way? What if we can’t ever leave and I’m stuck this way until some beast finally wears you all down and eats me alive?”
“Fanny, don’t think that way, okay. You can’t think thoughts like that here. You’ve got to think positive. In this place, your nightmare thoughts come true. You have to think about the thing you want, not the thing you don’t want.”
“How can I think positive when I can’t even move my hand to scratch the itch on my ass!”
“There’s the Fanny we know and love,” Jake said.
Despite the hell we were in, Fanny made us laugh. Even Greta smiled a bit.
“You’ve got to focus on being able to move. Don’t think about anything except that. Think of a beautiful catch and throwing someone out at first.”
“And slapping Jake in the back of the head?”
“Sure, if that makes you feel happy inside,” I said.
Fanny closed her eyes and smiled wide.
“What are you thinking to make you smile so big?” I asked.
“I’m thinking about chasing Jake down and tickling him ’til he pees in his pants like I used to do in elementary school.”
“Nice!” Jake said.
“Hey, whatever makes you think positive about this, go for it.”
“Don’t encourage her to beat me up!”
“Shh,” I said as I put my finger to my lips, shushing Jake so Fanny could concentrate.
“Would it help if we all focus on Fanny healing?” Greta asked.
“I don’t know. Normally, I’d say yes. But we don’t know how this place works.”
“But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Jake asked.
“You’re right. I can’t see why it would hurt.”
Jake and Greta both nodded and stood silently, presumably focusing their thoughts on healing Fanny. I held Fanny and concentrated as hard as I could on happy memories of her. I remembered her running, walking, dancing, jumping. A whole Fanny. Fanny kept her eyes closed, a light smile on her lips. She looked so peaceful and serene that if I didn’t feel her warmth in my arms, I might have thought she was dead.
It seemed like an eternity that we sat there, silent and waiting. The arena was filled with the buzzing sound of the people in the stands, but I tuned them out. My eyes were open, but they had that glazed over look you get when you’re drifting off somewhere.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. At first, I thought it was Jake or Greta moving. But as I focused my eyes, I saw that the movement was Fanny’s left hand, the fingers wiggling.
“You’re doing it,” I whispered to her.
“I know,” she whispered back.
Soon, both hands were stretching and wiggling. Then her arms moved, then her legs. In a couple of minutes more, she sat up on her own.
Fanny sat looking at me, a wide smile spreading across her face. Then she wrapped her arms around me and hugged. We both let our tears spill out.
Normally we would have felt self-conscious about such a ridiculously girly show of emotion, especially in front of Greta. But in that moment, we didn’t give a crap. Fanny was back. She’d saved herself, and she would no longer have to lie there like a worm stranded in the sun out of the soil. Fanny stood, her legs a bit wobbly, and we all hugged her, triumphant. The spectators stood too, cheering, their applause like thunder.
Our happy moment was interrupted by Greta’s question.
“Where’s Owen?”
As if the whole thing had been orchestrated, on cue we heard the pounding of what sounded like a horse’s hooves. The arena was suddenly silent, filled now only with the sound of galloping. The crowd was gone. Thousands of people, gone in an instant. The guards who had stood by the metal gates disappeared. The dust kicked up, and the arena around us melted away. Within seconds, we were back in the dusty, red dirt of the nightmare world, complete with rust-colored fog and those damned brambles everywhere.
Another strange beast trotted toward us, but this one had a rider on its back. At first, I thought the rider was Owen, but as the creature got closer, I could see that the rider was too small to be Owen.
We were about to meet the sole resident of the dimension of nightmares.
11
The four of us stood motionless as the beast and rider approached. As they got near, I could see that it was no horse that the stranger rode. The beast ambling toward us was one of the ugliest creatures I’d ever seen.
It stood on four legs, though how it didn’t topple over is a mystery. It
s front legs looked longer than its hind ones. It had a thick, barrel chest, rippled with muscles and veins. The creature was hairless and had what looked like thick skin. The beast resembled an Egyptian hairless cat. Its skin was pinkish but spotted here and there with grey splotches like huge, uneven, grey liver spots.
The animal was the size of a small horse. A young child or small adult could easily ride on its back. Its head rose out of a thick neck, knotted with muscle and sinew. The grand neck led to an overly large head dominated by two large, reptilian eyes, red flecked with black, and vertical, black slits for pupils.
The fearsome eyes presided over a snout that looked like it came straight from a hyena. As it approached, its mouth wore a sneer, revealing large fangs and teeth that looked like they could crush a person’s bones. Topping off the creature was a set of small, pointy ears that looked like miniaturized Doberman ears.
There was a rider on the creature’s back, holding on to a thick, leather-studded collar around the beast’s neck. As they approached, the animal knelt down on its front legs, and the rider dismounted. A black wisp, like one I thought I’d seen before, flitted about the rider’s head.
The rider was a complete contrast to the beast he’d rode in on. Standing before us was a boy, no more than five years old. He had black, black eyes, devoid of light or spark. There was no white around his irises, so his eyes were entirely black. I found it disarming to look into his eyes.
The boy had hair as dark as the blackest night and wore a suit of all black, too. He sported a suit jacket coupled with a black shirt and black tie, paired with black shorts that came to his knees, and black ankle socks with black shoes below. Except for his eyes, he looked like a human boy from maybe the 1940s, dressed for a funeral.
He ran his hand down the haunches of the beast he’d ridden on. His hand lingered languidly along the ugly, pink flesh of the creature, then he smacked the back of its haunches, hard. The air was filled first with the crack of his smack against its skin, then the air practically cracked open when the creature tilted its head back and let out a bloodcurdling sound. The sound – how else to describe it – except the sound of an owl screeching mixed with a wolf howling.
The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series Page 35
