Black Knight

by Christopher Pike

  Nordra considers while Marc squirms in his hands. I can’t look at Nordra without seeing Marc’s eyes, which never leave me. I know what’s he’s trying to tell me.

  “Don’t worry about me. Kill him.”

  But all I can do is worry, when what I need to do is focus—focus on the spear. It seems so far away, so out of reach. After Kendor threw me off the cliff and shocked me into activating my telekinetic witch gene, he had me practice by moving objects with my mind. My near brush with death had gotten my juices flowing and I was able to reach out and grab anything at hand with a simple thought. Unfortunately, the object had to be close. My grasp reached ten yards, no more.

  Kendor had told me the limitation was self-imposed.

  “Distance is in the mind. Size is in the mind. Now that your power is alive, you can move mountains.”

  “You sound like Yoda,” I said.

  Kendor had been puzzled. “Who is Yoda?”

  “The Jedi Master in the Star Wars movies.”

  “What is a movie?”

  Of course, I knew a man plucked from the sixth century would have no idea what a Jedi Knight or a movie was. It didn’t matter—I believed Kendor’s wisdom was timeless. Throwing me off the cliff had been as hard on him as it had been on me. He had known it might kill me, but he’d done it anyway because he knew if my latent power could be activated, I’d be almost impossible to kill.

  Kendor had that kind of faith in me.

  It’s time I showed my faith in him.

  “Distance is in the mind,” I repeat to myself.

  Sam glances at me, understanding. “So says my mother.”

  “I will make you a counterproposal,” Nordra calls. “But I will still need proof of your sincerity.”

  “What kind of proof?” I ask.

  “Kill the witch standing beside you.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I will tear your boyfriend in two,” Nordra says, suddenly pulling Marc’s arms and legs in opposite directions. Marc lets out a choking cry and it’s all the more horrible because I know he wouldn’t make a sound unless the pain was unbearable.

  Marc’s howl deepens the nightmare for me, and yet, at the same time, it’s like the spark that lights the torch in my dark dungeon. Raging hatred for Nordra explodes in my gut and starts a fire that blazes through every nerve in my body. My heads burns, my thoughts feel hot enough to melt lead, and with a fury I’ve never felt in my life, I reach out for the spear with my mind, lift it three feet off the rock, and send it rocketing into Nordra’s spine.

  The spear passes right through Nordra, dropping to the ground ten feet in front of the groaning bastard, the sharpened wood soaked in blood. A red stain swells across the chest of his blue uniform and the life drains from his limbs. He drops Marc as if he were a sack of flour. It’s possible the spear has in fact severed Nordra’s spinal cord.

  I truly hope so because I’m about to rush toward him, my machete held high, and cut off his head when . . .

  A piercing scream erupts behind me. Turning, I see Mary engulfed in flames, and for a second I’m convinced my burning brain has accidentally hit one of my own people with a bolt of fire.

  Then I see the strangest sight. It starts a few feet behind Billy, who is struggling in vain to smother the flames that have engulfed his sister. The lava beneath the steaming water—in a thin red coil that resembles a burning snake, it rises from the center of the hot spring and swiftly wraps three times around Billy’s body. Before he’s even aware it’s there, the witch who holds it in midair relaxes her grip and the lava drapes over him like a chain made of molten mercury. His brown uniform instantly ignites and in the blink of an eye he’s a flaming mirror of his burning sister.

  I feel as if the whole world has gone insane.

  Sam shakes me hard. His words bring me back to reality.

  “It’s Viper!” he cries. “Everyone! Get away from the pools! Run!”

  I see her, Viper, for the first time. No doubt she crept up on us while cloaked, but now that she’s using another weapon, her telekinesis, she’s had to drop the invisibility. I’ve been told that even ancient witches find it hard to use two powers at the same time.

  Viper, for all her badass rep and evil nickname, cuts a pathetic figure. She’s short, her dark hair is short—it looks like it was cut by a barber with a rusty pair of scissors. She’s so thin her black uniform fits her like a blanket, and her pale face is scarred. At first glance it looks like a bad case of acne, but then I realize the marks were caused by an infected needle.

  Maybe she was tortured as a child. Maybe she developed a drug habit as a teenager. I don’t know and I don’t care. She looks awful and she is awful and I’m going to kill the bitch.

  I reach for the lava with my mind. I envision a tidal wave of molten rock pouring over her head. But no tsunami arises. The clouds of steam whirl from my psychic assault but I can’t grip the flowing lava the way I could the solid spear. I can’t get a lock on it; the glowing magma literally feels like it pours through my mental fingers.

  All right, I tell myself, I’ll lift up a boulder with my brain and flatten Viper that way. Pound her into the ground. Unfortunately, I’m not given a chance to concentrate. Suddenly I realize why Kyle never made it to my side.

  He’s already squared off against Viper, trying to use his speed and his machete to take her down. But every time he makes a stab at her, she sends forth a hail of splattering lava, and only Kyle’s incredible reflexes keep him from ending up like Mary and Billy.

  Speaking of which, Mary suddenly stops flailing and drops to the ground with a spear in her back. I scan the area expecting to find one of Viper’s people attacking from behind, but all I see is Ora raising a second spear. It takes me a moment to understand. I had assumed Ora was down for the count. Instead, he’s back on his feet and trying to do the most merciful of all things—put Mary and Billy out of pain.

  “Ora!” I shout. “Aim for Viper!”

  He looks at me like he’s already thought of that and tried it half a dozen times. Indeed, he probably did exactly that while I was talking to Nordra. Yet, whether for good or bad, Ora takes my orders seriously and turns and runs toward Viper, holding a spear ready.

  “Don’t get near her!” I cry. “Stay away from the pools!”

  This time Ora doesn’t listen and I understand why. The sight of Billy writhing in the worst pain a person can suffer overwhelms us all. To be transformed into a human torch—I can’t even look at Billy and not feel the same rage that’s overcome Ora. Yet I’m the one who ordered him to kill the bitch when I should have kept my mouth shut and dealt with her myself.

  Forgetting Nordra, forgetting even Marc, who’s still trying to find his feet, I grab my machete and rush Viper. I’m grateful I’ve got Sam by my side and that Kyle’s already trying to take Viper down.

  But Viper sees me coming. Over the two hundred yards that separate us, our eyes lock and she smiles faintly, nods, and there’s something so evil in the simple gestures that I know in an instant what she’s thinking. She’s got three witches closing in on her and I’m their leader. It doesn’t matter that I’ve just taken down Nordra; he’s just demonstrated exactly how she’s going to stop me.

  By going after those Jessica Ralle cares about.

  Viper turns toward Ora, who’s closed to within a hundred feet, and raises her right hand while making a peculiar swirling motion with her left. Behind her a two-inch-thick stream rises into the air like a long red hose poking from a steaming sauna. The stream curls over Viper’s head, flecks of ash spilling onto her hair, yet it doesn’t appear to bother her. On the contrary, it’s as if she’s flexing a muscle she’s anxious to strike with.

  The stream suddenly narrows, projects; it’s like Viper has fired a laser from an invisible gun mounted three feet above her skull. It’s only when it strikes Ora in the chest,
splashing over the front of his body, that it reverts to its original form—molten lava.

  Ora screams and explodes in a ball of flame.

  “Now you die!” Kyle cries, falling on her with his machete held high. It seems inevitable he’ll kill her. By going after Ora, Viper’s left herself wide open. Besides, Kyle’s only three steps from Viper, and he’s about to chop at her slender neck with his sharp machete. A half second more, at the most, I think, and her head will be flying through the air.

  Viper vanishes from sight.

  Kyle swings and hits empty air.

  “Damn!” I swear, leaping toward the hot springs.

  Sam grabs me from behind. “Jessie!”

  I try shaking him off. “She can’t have gone far! Look for her!”

  Sam holds on. “Ora! We have to help Ora!”

  I want to tell him we can’t help Ora, not now, not while we have a chance to put an end to Viper. I should probably also say I’m deliberately not looking in Ora’s direction because I can’t bear to see him suffer. But it would all sound so feeble because we can all hear him screaming.

  I turn to Marc, who has finally regained his senses.

  “Grab a spear, a machete, anything,” I order. “Kill him.”

  Marc gasps. “But Li . . .”

  “He can’t be saved! Kill him!” I cry.

  Marc does have the strength to look in Ora’s direction. His face pales but he nods. “I’ll do it, Jessie. Just kill that bitch.”

  Ora’s screams haunt me all the way to the steaming pools. Until they abruptly fall silent. Once again, I don’t look, I can’t. Sam, Kyle, and Chad huddle around me.

  “Can you see her?” I ask Sam.

  He’s scanning the area. “No. It’s the steam. I can’t find a trace of her shadow. She must be weaving through the pools.”

  Chad speaks. “The steam might block Sam’s vision but it can help us. An object, even an invisible object, if it passes through a cloud, it leaves a visible trail.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Kyle demands.

  It’s Chad’s turn to scan the hot springs. “There’s a breeze blowing downhill, slowly pulling the steam with it. Look for any place where it suddenly parts or spins uphill. That will be a sign Viper’s nearby.”

  “She’s shrewd,” I warn. “She might not run. She might not disturb the steam at all.”

  “Then we’ll listen for her,” Sam says.

  We break into two teams. Sam goes with Kyle. Chad comes with me. I’m armed with a machete and a knife. Chad has a knife and a spear. We move silently around the bubbling pools, the stench of the sulfur almost suffocating.

  Of course it’s always possible Viper’s tricked us and has doubled back on the rest of our people. But somehow I don’t think so. Easy access to the lava is still her most potent weapon, and I don’t believe she’d give it up unless we drive her away from the pools.

  We hear a sound at our backs and whirl. It’s Marc, breathing hard; he’s run fast to catch us. Putting a finger to my lips, I caution him to remain silent and he nods. But I can tell from his miserable expression, and the blood on his machete, that he carried out my last order.

  Ora is dead.

  Marc may have killed him but it’s Viper who’s the murderer.

  I swear to myself I’m going to take her down.

  The steam is thick. We can see each other, and the narrow pathways through the pools, that’s it. Then Chad taps me on the shoulder, points to a trail of footprints in the crusty black soil. The prints belong to a small barefoot woman. Like Nordra, and myself for that matter, Viper must have set aside her boots before going into battle, counting on the extra traction and quiet steps the absence of footwear would give her.

  Together, we track the footprints. But we’ve not gone far when we come to the edge of the hot springs and a flat sheet of black stone. It’s covered with a faint coat of ash; still, Viper’s footprints are now unclear. We see a partial print of her left foot, hike another twenty feet before we see a print of her right toes. Chad tries his best to resist but the fumes cause him to cough, giving away our position.

  I motion for us to stand still, listen. I think I hear something off to our left. Marc is on my left. He gestures, silently asking if he can whisper in my ear. I nod and he leans close to my head.

  “Behind us,” he says. “To our . . . Aaah!”

  A stone knife magically emerges from the steam the instant the tip penetrates Marc’s lower back. He cries out in pain and I immediately slash behind him with my machete, hitting nothing but thin air. Yet, over Marc’s moans, I hear movement. Gesturing to Chad to help Marc, who’s dropped to the ground, I anxiously scan the area behind us.

  The steam is still thick; we’re on a rock plate, prints are hard to find, and my eyes are aching from the fumes. I can’t rely on my vision, I have to listen, have to block out whatever sounds Marc is making.

  But my guys are true heroes; Chad knows what I’m doing. He clamps his hand over Marc’s mouth and Marc quietly reaches up and pulls it away, nodding that he knows he can’t so much as groan.

  If Viper was fleeing I’d see movement in the steam, but it sticks to us like a shadow. It’s unfortunate the steam’s robbed me of the glare of the sun, that I can’t spot the outline of her shadow. It’s as if she’s planned everything ahead of time. First she waited until we were at our most vulnerable, when Nordra attacked. Now she’s probably celebrating the fact that I’ve split up our team of witches to search for her. That might have been an error on my part, I think. Marc’s already wounded and . . .

  I hear someone draw in a sharp breath. The guys are behind me, this sound comes from in front of me. What would force her to take an audible breath? The sound is coming from at least ten feet away, closer to fifteen. I hear a faint rustle of clothing.

  Viper’s about to attack!

  Attack from a distance!

  She must have picked up a spear! A spear that will only become visible after she’s thrown it at my chest!

  That’s why she attacked Marc with a knife. She didn’t want to mess with me at first. No, she used the knife to give me the impression that was the only weapon she had beside her telekinesis—which she can’t use while cloaked. She tried to plant the idea in my mind that she would have to come close to hurt me. And she has come close but only close enough to make sure her spear doesn’t miss.

  I have one chance and I take it. From holding my machete up high, I swing it around like an overthrown bowling ball and let go of my grip. The sharp stick flies through seemingly nothing but steam—until it strikes.

  Viper suddenly appears, the stump of her left arm gushing blood. My machete’s caught her wrist. Her severed hand, the fingers gripping one of our own spears, lies bloodied on the black rock. Viper stares down at it, stunned, then glares at me.

  The hatred in her eyes shouldn’t shock me and yet it does. She’s stalked us and she’s murdered us. Yet she’s outraged we’ve fought back. It’s like she’s never been spanked before and doesn’t know how to deal. Well, I do, I know exactly what I’m going to do to her.

  I leap toward her. She vanishes.

  I stop, think.

  She’s wounded, she should try to escape.

  But she’s furious, she wants revenge.

  Which fact will drive her next decision?

  I retreat to Chad and Marc, pick up the machete Marc dropped, scan for drops of blood. There’s a mass of red where Viper’s hand has fallen but I can’t find any other bloody drops. Forcing an arrogant smile, I wave the machete in the air and act like I don’t have a care in the world.

  “Come out, you coward!” I shout. “Let’s put an end to this now!”

  I don’t mean what I say. I’m trying reverse psychology, hoping she’ll reject my challenge. My first priority has to be Marc and Chad. Marc’s been stabbed and Cha
d is tending to him. They can’t help me but—even missing a hand—Viper can probably find a way to use them against me. Just look at what Nordra did.

  Far to my right I hear running steps. I even see the steam twist and whirl as someone races through the stinking cloud. Finally I glimpse a trail of blood. But I don’t go after her. Viper will just make me pay by circling around and cutting Chad’s throat.

  I kneel beside Marc and Chad.

  “How bad is it?” I ask.

  Chad’s already torn off the sleeve of his shirt and is using it as a bandage. “She struck near his kidney but I think she missed,” he says. “Pressure’s slowing the bleeding. I doubt she hit a major vein or artery.”

  I put my hands on Marc. “I’ll do a quick healing.”

  Marc stops me. “Wait until we get back to the others.”

  “Okay. As long as you let me carry you.”

  Marc looks disgusted. “No way.”

  “Way,” I insist.

  Chad nods in the direction of Viper’s severed hand. “Is she capable of growing another one?” he asks.

  I pick up Marc, being careful to hold his bandage in place.

  “I don’t know,” I say, and I don’t.

  On the way back we pass where she lost her hand.

  But the hand is gone.

  Yet she’s left her black bracelet lying on the ground.

  I tell Chad to pick it up and put it in my pocket.

  * * *

  Nordra is gone. In the confusion, no one saw him leave. I’m stunned that he was able to recover from such a deadly blow. My spear must have somehow missed his heart and given him a chance to heal. I can only hope he’s no longer a hundred percent.

  Both Nordra’s girls are dead, which is a surprise. Apparently Chad hit the major artery in the girl’s leg when he struck with his spear. While the rest of us were dealing with Viper, she bled out. It’s a small victory but we’ll take it.