by Win Hollows
When Elorie reached them, she drew a dart from her left thigh and jammed it into the side of Ruben’s neck. She honestly had no idea if the paralytic inside would release the way it normally did, as she had never attempted to use her darts underwater. Ruben released Max’s ankle to reach up and yank the needle from his neck. Then he whirled and caught Elorie by the hair.
She gritted her teeth, but the breath she was holding slipped from her as she struggled against him. Her former partner had no mercy for her, and she’d always known he wouldn’t. Ruben either got what he wanted from someone, or they died, slowly and painfully.
He dragged her toward the wall of the cavern and shoved her against it, almost precisely where Max had been a moment ago. Ruben’s electric-blue eyes were bloodshot from the saltwater and held no trace of humanity as he bashed her head back against the rock wall.
Though the force of his movement was tempered by the water, Elorie’s sight flashed bright white, and her lungs involuntarily took in water. Digging her nails into the hand fisted in her hair, she knew she wouldn’t break his grip that way. It was only a matter of time now until she drowned, for she couldn’t reach any part of Ruben with how long his arms were compared to hers. White spots danced in front of her eyes, and she struggled to stop herself from breathing in more water.
Ruben tightened his grip and shoved her head back to make contact with the rock again, and this time, Elorie knew her head was bleeding. Twisting her neck, she used her last remaining moment of consciousness to sink her teeth into the flesh of Ruben’s wrist. The salt of his blood trickled between her teeth, but she didn’t let go. When Ruben kicked backward, he tore his arm away, but Elorie made sure she ripped as much of his flesh as she could as he went. Perhaps she would get lucky and tear his artery.
But she didn’t see the results of her efforts because that was the moment her brain decided it had had enough of the lack of oxygen and wouldn’t be sticking around to see what happened without it.
Fortunately for Elorie, it was also the moment Max stabbed Ruben in the chest with a jagged piece of red rock and subsequently pulled her to the surface.
When her vision came back into focus as she coughed up alarming amounts of seawater, Max was speaking.
He tucked the spearhead into his waistband. “We have to get out of here. Can you swim on your own?”
She touched the back of her head, and her hand came away bloody. Wincing, she nodded. “I think so.” There was definitely going to be a headache from that one.
Max pushed her toward the tunnel from whence they’d entered, waiting until she’d gone under to follow. Ruben hadn’t resurfaced, but Elorie knew cockroaches didn’t die easily. The more distance they put between themselves and the Hand agent, the better.
She swam with powerful strokes as hard as she could, the way back much faster now that she knew where to go. Even so, she was weakened, Max’s care to not leave her in his wake obvious. Once they’d made it back through the Eyes, she kicked to the surface, her lungs’ capacity for holding her breath depleted.
Max came up beside her. “Let’s get to the island and plan from there.” He pointed to the small, rock-strewn shoal a few lengths away.
Elorie didn’t argue, feeling herself struggling to even tread water and stay conscious at the same time. It was hard for her to tell if it was because of blood loss from her head wound, the recent lack of air, or the rattling of her brains against the wall of the cavern, but she knew she needed to rest. By the time Max had helped to pull her up onto the warm sand behind one of the tall rocks, all she could do was fall onto the sand on her stomach and try to calm her breaths while the world stopped spinning.
Max lay down beside her, putting his arm over his face. Neither of them spoke for a spell, letting the rhythmic brushing of the waves around them and the bright sun lull their heightened senses. They couldn’t stay here, but for the moment, they were safe.
And victorious.
“We did it,” Max whispered.
Elorie opened her sore eyes to find Max propped on his side, looking down at her. Even though her head ached something fierce and she felt like seaweed tossed about in a storm, she couldn’t help grinning back. “We did.”
He slid the Lance out of his waistband and examined it, turning it this way and that as it gleamed dully in the sun. “Did you ever think you’d actually hold something such as this in your hands?”
“I knew you’d find it,” she said simply. “I never had any doubt.”
He threw her a sharp look. “Why?”
Elorie sighed and turned to cradle her head, looking up at his face outlined by the sun. “Because you’re you. And you’re nothing if not a stubborn, cocksure Englishman.”
Max laughed, and she joined him, powerless to resist the heady feeling of victory. He fell back onto the sand and took her with him, rolling over and over until they came up against the base of another black rock. It made her dizzy, but nothing on earth had ever felt as good as this moment. They giggled like children, lost in the sensation of pure satisfaction and synchronicity with the tiny world they inhabited.
“I almost gave up,” he admitted. “If it weren’t for Asher, I don’t know if I would ever have figured out where it was.”
From atop his chest, Elorie commented, “If your cousin helped you, then that must mean he cares for you.”
Max snorted. “I don’t know about that. But he did give me some good advice.”
“What was that?” Elorie took the Lance from his hand and smoothed her fingers over its surface.
He leaned up toward her and cupped her cheek in his hand. “To not let you become a ghost of my past.”
She let him kiss her, unable to stop the molten gold feeling flowing in her veins. If she had to stay in one place for the entire rest of her life, this would be it. She could feel every glimmer of hope in the way his lips met hers. She felt his fingertips glide over her back and down toward her derriere. When he pinched the underside of her right buttock, she yelped in surprise.
He just chuckled. “I think you like it.”
She smiled, letting his finger roam up the cleft between her globes. “Perhaps.”
A flashing shine unlike the sand around it caught her eye. She raised her head up to look closer as dread began to fill her bones. The familiar, empty eyes of an owl stared up at her from the gold coin’s position in the sand. So innocuous a thing, and yet…
“I knew you were a whore at heart, Viper, but I didn’t peg you for a traitor. I only wish I’d sampled your charms before you sold yourself to the English.”
Her heart stopped, and she frantically tucked the Lance down her pants as she scrambled to her feet while Max did the same.
Ruben stood ten paces away in the sand, holding a revolver to Losif’s temple. The monk had bruises around his eyes, and one cheek looked somehow caved in, while his beard was a matte of dried blood. His robes were filthy and crusted with what Elorie suspected was his own soiling, but the monk didn’t look the least put out by any of this.
“Hello, Lord Eydris, Lady Lavoie. Lovely day to be at the seashore.” He beamed through his wiry beard, the round bald area on his head red as an apple from the sun.
“Losif.” Max gulped. “I’m sorry, friend.”
“Oh, it’s all right.” The pudgy man waved his hand. “It’s all quite an adventure, and now I know just how many teeth I can lose before spouting things I shouldn’t. Like the clue from the Irishman’s tomb.”
Elorie knew Max had to be kicking himself for sharing the information with the monk that had led them here in the first place. But there was no blaming Losif for revealing such a thing, for many had given up far worse secrets under Ruben’s hands.
Ruben nudged the gun against Losif’s head, causing the monk to wince. “I’ll admit, I had trouble figuring it out, but I grew up in Marseille. The Eyes of St. Raphael was a story told to me as a child, how the Knights Templar used to smuggle sojourners and religious relics to the Holy Land centuries a
go. It fit with the direction you were heading, and I knew you had to be coming here.”
“Bravo,” Elorie quipped. “You listened to your nanny before you grew up to be a rotting pile of dung.”
“Tsk tsk,” Ruben replied. “I’d still love to fill that filthy mouth of yours with something besides insults, but, unfortunately, there isn’t the time. Give me the Lance, or your round companion will be dead before you can take a step.”
“Leave him out of this,” Max said. “This is between you and I.”
“Actually, it’s between her and I,” Ruben corrected. “You’re just here because she wanted some amusement, but it’s time you realized this game is over for you. Now toss me the Lance. I have six shots, and I only need three to kill the whole lot of you, but you might walk away from this if I get what I want.”
“You’re not getting the Lance, Ruben,” Elorie told him calmly. “But I’m sure there are other negotiations to be had. Besides, what’s to stop you from killing us once you have it?”
“You make a good point. But you really don’t have any choices left to you, Viper. It’s either watch him die now, and take your last breath a moment later, or settle this civilly, and you all live to bumble your way back the way you came.”
“Ruben, let’s just talk about—”
“I tire of your voice,” Ruben snapped. “Either give me the Lance now, or I kill you all for the satisfaction of it.”
“Oh,” Losif exclaimed. His gaze grew faraway, and then came back into focus. He chuckled. “A grand adventure, indeed.”
“Please,” Max grated out. “Just be quiet while we get you out of this mess—”
The monk held up a hand. “You and I once spoke of purpose, Master Eydris. I have felt compelled to this quest for a long time, and now I know why.”
Ruben sighed. “Do tell, if it will shut you up so we can get back to business.” He looked at Max. “How do you put up with him? He’s the most annoying creature I’ve ever encountered, and the least satisfying to torture.”
Elorie narrowed her eyes. She would kill Ruben herself when this was over, and it would be a pleasure.
“You see,” Losif continued, as if no one else had spoken. “Master Ruben doesn’t have six shots. He used three on the men whose boat he stole, one for the dockmaster, and one on the fisherman you came here with. So that leaves him with one bullet left, if I understand his firearm correctly.”
“You imbecilic rat,” Ruben snarled, moving behind Losif.
This did change things somewhat, to Elorie’s thinking, but that one shot still meant Ruben had the upper hand.
“Losif,” Max warned. “Don’t do anything rash. He still has one left. We’ll get out of this somehow.”
“I know you will.” Losif smiled. “It has been the joy of my life to accompany you on this adventure, Lord Eyrdris. My purpose will now be fulfilled.”
Max took a step forward as Losif rolled up the sleeves of his robe. “Losif,” he begged. “Stop.”
Ruben yanked on the monk’s hood as he stepped backward. “I’ll kill you where you stand, priest.”
“I meet my God with wondrous enthusiasm for the glory of his presence.” The monk twisted toward Ruben and raised him arm to strike.
“Losif, No!” Max lunged forward.
Boom.
The monk crumpled to the ground as Max reached him.
Elorie gasped. It was too late.
Max fell to his knees beside Losif’s still form.
She forced her eyes to blink. As shocked as she was by the monk’s actions, Elorie still sprung back. Ruben would not give the death of the monk a second’s thought, and he was still deadly even without a gun.
Ruben had tossed his gun away and was reaching for something in the back of his pants. On the ground as Max was, he wouldn’t have time to get out of reach. Ruben pulled a curved blade from his waistband and dodged behind the rock to his left as Elorie’s dart sliced through the air where he had been seconds before.
Elorie cursed and dragged Max behind the rock they’d been up against. Max didn’t react at all, just looked at his hands which were wet with specks of Losif’s blood.
Clearly, her dart hadn’t worked on Ruben while in the cavern, but she suspected that had to do with the equalization of pressure to the liquids within the capsule. They hadn’t released because there had been no vacuum formed when the seal had depressed upon contact. Here in the open air, they should be lethal once more.
“Come out to play, Viper!” Ruben called out.
There was probably only a total of five or six rocks on the little shoal, but Ruben could be behind any of them now. Max didn’t have a weapon, and she had eight darts left. It was entirely possible that Ruben could appear around the side of the rock any second and slit either one of their throats before they heard him coming in the soft sand. Yet they couldn’t meet him in the open either, for Elorie knew he excelled at throwing knives of the type he carried.
She needed to know where he was. Perhaps she could lure him into throwing his knife at her if she were fast enough. “Stay here,” she breathed to Max.
He shook his head. “Let me go out there.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t have anything to fight with. He’ll put a knife through your heart the second he sees you.”
“Then give me your darts,” he insisted.
“Max,” she said gently. “They are deadlier in my hands than yours, and we both know it. I will finish this.”
She could see the struggle Max was having over letting her face Ruben without him, but finally, he nodded. “Show him no mercy.”
Her eyes hardened. “I won’t.”
Whirling out from behind the rock, Elorie called, “I’ve never been afraid of you, Ruben. Come and get me!”
She saw Ruben’s blond head flash from behind a different rock closer than he’d been before. Right as he threw his half-circled blade at her, she spun again to slide behind another rock. The knife hit the rock behind her head with a clang.
Just as she wanted. Now he had no weapon, and she had the upper hand. She crouched down and felt for the knife around the edge of the stone. A shuffling sound caught her attention, and she snatched her fingers back just in time to see sand fly as Ruben dove for the blade.
He had seen where her hand was, which meant…
“Ellie, duck!” Max shouted.
Elorie tucked her head down and rolled forward as Ruben’s blade crashed into the rock where her neck would have been. She didn’t look back to see how close behind her he was as she ran for cover behind another rock. When she scrambled behind it, she realized Ruben hadn’t followed.
“Now this is interesting,” Ruben called. “Which one of you do I kill first? Seeing as how Eydris is empty-handed, I’ll take my chances with him.”
No.
Elorie wasn’t going to let that happen in a million years.
“Ruben, wait! I’m coming out,” she yelled, stepping out from behind her rock. She stood in the open, hoping Ruben would take the bait.
He did, stepping out cautiously from behind the tallest of the volcanic stones. His blade hung at his side, but Elorie knew that stance was deceiving. He could throw the blade before her eyes would know what he’d done.
“It’s me you want.”
Ruben smirked. “What makes you think I’ll spare either of you? You might be worth a tumble in the sand, Viper, but you think too much of yourself if you assume I want you over the Lance.”
Elorie shook her head. “I think no such thing. But I do think you’ll need to spare me if you want the Lance because I threw it in the ocean, and you have no idea in which direction it lies. You could spend days or weeks looking for it without my help.”
The rage in his eyes was undisguised. “You little snake.”
She shrugged. “I’m the Viper, after all.”
“Or perhaps I’ll kill your coward of an Englishman unless you retrieve it for me,” he said, shifting his weight to his other foot.
“Coward, no,” Max said, revealing his position halfway between the two. He leaned against the rock he had been hiding behind. “But I won’t deny the English part. You French are too dramatic for me.”
Ruben readjusted his stance, looking between the two of them.
“You only have one knife, Ruben,” Elorie said. “If you go for Max, I’ll drop you before you can take a step. And if you aim for me, Max will be closer to your weapon once it lands, whether you hit me or not.”
It appeared that Ruben had already concluded the same thing and was furious about his tenuous position. “I’ll go then,” he announced. “But this isn’t over.”
Max nodded. “I think that’s an excellent choice.”
Ruben began to back away, the grip on his knife still ready.
Elorie breathed out and began to let her shoulders drop when Ruben suddenly hurled his knife in her direction, following it at a sprint.
She spun to her left, and the blade sliced through her exposed arm with the ease of a needle through cloth.
Max threw Ruben to the ground with a dull thud. Ruben threw a handful of sand in Max’s eyes and rose to his feet once more.
But Elorie was ready. “Ruben!”
He looked up, and his eyes widened for the smallest of seconds before Elorie’s wrist let fly. She flung dart after dart straight at the center of his mass and watched as all five of them embedded themselves in his chest.
Ruben roared and began to run toward her, but she stood where she was, watching his enraged approach. He dropped to the sand in front of her, outstretched hand inches from her bare toes as the fatal cyanide choked him from the inside out. He convulsed, and foam appeared around his lips. After a moment, he was still.
