by Jacob Whaler
Them.
I have shown him the power.
He still refuses.
The failure is not mine.
He is a fool.
It may yet be possible.
Come and see.
The spectators jump out of their seats and stampede away from Jhata’s side of the arena where dark clouds form a swirling vortex on either side of her body. Judging from their faces, panic has taken hold.
Perhaps they have seen the Lethonen before.
Matt eyes his Stone, still attached to Jhata’s belt. The sound of thunder booms out of the churning air around her.
She stands up and walks onto the arena floor.
The black clouds come together. A single humanoid figure emerges from the twisting mass, the outer edge of its form indistinct and shifting. The face and body are a constant flux of motion and color, like boiling waves beneath the surface, on the verge of breaking apart.
Jhata and the dark form walk closer to Matt, their eyes focused intently on him. She casts a faint shadow on the floor, but there is no shadow from the other.
Still kneeling Japanese style, Matt fills his lungs and exhales slowly, relaxing his body, observing as much detail as possible, and returning the cold stare they cast at him.
I’ve got to get my Stone back and get out of here. Back to Jessica and Dad.
They stop. Jhata looks to her left at the dark form.
“Tell us.” Her hands tremble slightly at her side. “What have you chosen?”
Matt’s gaze moves from one set of eyes to the other. “You know what I have chosen.”
“Tell us again,” she says. “We want you to be sure.”
Matt braces himself, arms straight, hands on his knees, his belly soft like the Buddha. “I have chosen—” He stops himself in midsentence, allowing a smile to light his face. He speaks slowly and clearly. “I have chosen the Allehonen.”
The dark figure lifts its head up and shrieks. Violent ripples tear through its body and explode in the air.
Jhata topples to the ground only a few feet away.
Out of the corner of Matt’s eye, he sees an expanding ring of darkness blast over the spectators in the stands. They fall and trip over each other.
He stays firm in his sitting position.
The dark figure collapses into hideous creatures that surround Matt and Jhata, forming a tight ring. A hodgepodge of bones, reptilian scales and metal fragments swim across their unstable surfaces. Claws jut out from their feet. Fangs protrude from torn lips. The smell of burnt sulfur is overpowering.
Jhata looks up but makes no effort to stand on her feet. A collar of rough black metal appears on her neck.
“Fool!” she yells. A grimace mars her face and spittle spews from her lips. Her perfectly coiffed hair lies in disarray around her thin shoulders, her kimono in tatters. “Do you not see they have the power to destroy you and me. Right here. Right now.”
Yes. We have the power.
The air is a maelstrom of confusion and searing cold. Matt can no longer see outside the ring of dark creatures.
Matt stretches out his hand and takes his Stone from Jhata’s belt.
She makes no effort to move. “Why do you not destroy him?” Jhata looks up at the creatures standing over her with pleading eyes.
“Because they can’t.” Matt rises to his feet. A thin blue light clings to the outside of his body, still covered with the skin armor.
The dark forms shriek in unison. Their bodies lose any sense of humanoid form and become nothing more than undifferentiated masses of claws, teeth and scales.
Matt is pulled into a vortex of darkness. The air is sucked away, and he struggles to breathe. He forms an image of the Woman in his mind.
I have chosen. Why won’t you help me?
Intense light bursts from above. Feeling warmth, he looks up. The dark creatures have moved away. They stand in an uneven line at the far end of the arena in front of Jhata’s throne.
She lies crumpled on the floor at Matt’s feet.
Fire envelops his body. He turns and sees the Woman, standing at his side.
Do not be afraid.
“I’m not,” Matt says. “I knew you would come.”
As the Woman stares into Matt’s eyes, he feels her enter his mind, like a door opening wide on silent hinges. Light rushes in to fill every corner and space. Nothing is hidden. Relaxation and clarity push out the fog that remains from his encounter with the Lethonen.
The Woman’s gaze moves past Jhata on the floor to the creatures lined up at the far end of the arena. Her voice is clear and distinct in his mind.
He has chosen.
The Lethonen stumble back, their bodies still misshapen and chaotic, agony and anger written on their faces. Shrieks and groans flow from their lips. Hands claw at the air and fall back down.
Then they charge.
For an instant, as the dark horde rushes forward, Matt feels a wave of fear wash over and through him. He takes a step back, loses his balance and falls to the floor.
The Woman steps ahead of him and raises a single hand, palm facing out at the oncoming Lethonen.
Matt feels himself pulled into the Woman, his mind becoming one with hers. Infinite love penetrates his body, saturating and bathing his entire being. It expands out from the Woman to fill the arena. The spectators in the stands fall down in worshipful bliss. Matt gives himself up to a wave of emotion. It rolls over him like fire, and he opens himself to it, giving it unrestricted flow, yearning for it to consume him.
The words of the Woman fill his mind, pushing out every other thought.
Come. Join us. Be one with us.
The line of Lethonen come to a sudden stop. Their bodies reel backward, arms flaying, hands reaching up to cover their ears. Screams of agony pierce the air.
Stop the burning.
We cannot be one.
We will not give up the power.
Jhata lies on the floor, her body overcome with convulsions and shaking.
The Woman reaches down, takes Matt by the hand and raises him to his feet.
You have chosen.
Now you must go back.
CHAPTER 126
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean?” Alexa glares into the holo screen at the man dressed in military fatigues. “Of course I’m sure.”
“Does this come from Ryzaard?”
“For the last time, yes.”
“Why hasn’t he contacted us personally?”
“He’s busy!” Alexa yells into the screen. Her voice bounces off the walls inside the transport cabin.
“Understood.” The man looks back at Alexa. “When is she to be executed?”
Alexa rolls her eyes, inhales and lets an audible sigh flow out past her lips. “Right now, you pathetic excuse for a jarhead. Right now. Do you understand?”
“Affirmative.”
“Is everything set up in the room as I told you?”
“Affirmative.”
“Then do it!” Alexa says. “Exactly as I told you. If the girl isn’t dead by the time Ryzaard comes back, you and I will be. Do I make myself clear?”
The man nods, turns and walks two paces to a door where another man in identical military garb stands at attention, a pulse rifle cradled in his arms.
Alexa watches as the first man speaks to the man with the rifle. After a few seconds, the second man steps away from the door.
“Executing orders.” The first man places his fingers on the wall next to a small glass sphere. The sphere opens, exposing a red square. As the tip of his index finger touches it, a small red light above the square blinks on and off.
The man turns back to face Alexa. “Done,” he says. “Gas emissions have commenced. Execution protocol is in place.”
Both of the men slide small transparent gasmasks up on their faces. The man without a pulse rifle pulls a huge pistol from a holster at his side.
Alexa flips off the holo and slumps down into a massiv
e soft chair, feeling oddly drained of energy for doing nothing more than conveying a verbal order to execute Jessica.
As if on its own, her hand reaches up to pour another glass of champagne. The fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle. But instead of moving to the wineglass, the hand hoists the bottle to her lips. She obediently complies, opening her mouth and feeling the liquid drain down her throat.
She doesn’t stop until it’s all gone.
CHAPTER 127
She is a brave little girl. Even Ryzaard is forced to recognize this fact.
His hands tighten their grip on her throat, the fingers easily wrapping all the way around with thumbs pressing just above her windpipe.
He could have done it with one hand, but it will be faster, more humane, with two.
She looks up at him with wide eyes.
“Leo will be so proud of you,” he says. “You are saving his life by giving yours. He will always remember.”
One of his fingers rests on her carotid artery deep inside her neck. He can feel the rapid pulse start to slow. Her small chest heaves in and out.
But there is no fear in her eyes.
I’ll be with mama soon.
Ryzaard smiles at the faint voice in his mind. “Yes, you will, my little dear. She’ll be so happy to see you.”
Her eyelids start to droop. The weight of her body pulls down as her legs begin to buckle.
“Almost over.” He eases her down as she drops to her knees. “Just close your eyes and go to sleep.”
Her eyes close, fluttered open, and shut again, with more depth and finality. It won’t be long now. After she loses consciousness, he will finish the job with the Boker.
The fluttering of her eyelids stops, and her dilated eyes shoot open, first looking up at Ryzaard, and then darting to the side, up and beyond him.
A smile graces her tiny lips.
Ryzaard smiles back. “Such a good little—”
“Let her go, you evil bastard.”
He turns his head slowly to the right.
The sole of a shoe slams into his face. There is the sound of bone breaking inside his mouth. Salt floods over his tongue. His hands slip off the little girl’s neck. As he twists and falls to the ground, his eyes swing past a man standing above him. There is something familiar about the face.
Can’t be. I already killed him.
CHAPTER 128
Matt feels it as soon as Ryzaard hits the ground.
Time snaps back into place. The old man had put it on pause, but it’s flowing again.
He bends down and scoops up the limp body of Yarah. She stares at him with half-open eyes, her mouth open and taking in great gulps of air.
You’re alive.
Matt hears the words in his mind and whips around, half expecting Jhata to tap him on the shoulder from behind. Yarah’s hands come up to his face and pull it down.
It’s me.
He stares at her.
“Yarah? But how—”
The Monkey gave me its Stone.
The heap of fallen flesh at the base of the broken wall is still. The fingers of one hand are wrapped around a small statue.
The Stone helps me see inside your head.
“Where is your Stone?”
He took it. The bad man.
Matt gently lays Yarah on the grass. “Stay here. I won’t let him hurt you anymore.” His eyes move over to Ryzaard, lying on the grass, eyes closed. Blood trickles out of the corner of his mouth. His jaw looks askew on his face, leaning too much to one side.
Definitely broken.
Matt opens Ryzaard’s tweed suit. Four Stones rest in leather slots on his chest. He grabs the one on the bottom and drops it into the side pocket of his pants.
Hurry!
Yarah takes his hand and pulls him behind a rock to where Leo lies on the grass, his chest rising and falling with a regular rhythm.
The bad man hurt Leo.
Matt kneels down at his side and drops his hands to the boy’s forehead.
Leo’s eyes shoot open. “We’ve got to go.”
“But you’re hurt,” Matt says. “Let me help you.”
“I’ll be fine.” Leo winces with pain and tries to get up. “I’ll patch myself up later. Your dad—” He stops and looks down. Tears welled up in his eyes.
“What about my dad?”
“Ryzaard—” Leo can’t get the words out.
“Ryzaard did what?” Matt kneels down and grabs Leo by his T-shirt, raising him up. “Where’s my dad?” He sees the momentary fear flash across the boy’s eyes. He gently lays Leo back down.
Ryzaard is moaning on the grass.
“No time,” Leo says. “I’ll take you there.” He raises his hand up.
Matt turns around, pulls Yarah close and grabs Leo’s hand. The air flashes white, and Matt’s eyes snap shut.
When he opens them, he’s still kneeling on the grass.
Two bodies are on the ground a few feet away, each with hands on their chests, one is breathing hard. The other is still. Rivers of blood run from their fingers, soaking their shirts.
Matt rushes to his dad.
Leo turns onto his stomach and crawls over to Jake, putting his hands on Jake’s head.
Matt drops to his knees next to his dad and gazes down into the familiar eyes. “I’m here dad. Hold still.” Fighting back the urge to raise his eyes to the sky and let loose a long wail, he slides his hands into the pool of blood on his dad’s chest.
The eyes look up, the lids half closed. After a couple of seconds, they grow wide with recognition and surprise. A red hand reaches up to Matt’s face and touches his cheek. “Matt?” Kent struggles for breath, his words barely audible. “I thought you were—”
“Dead? Not a chance, Dad.”
“But Ryzaard said—”
“He lied.” Matt puts a finger on his dad’s lips. “Don’t talk. I’m fine. I can heal you. Just hold still.”
“No,” Kent says. A violent tremble passes through his body. “No time. Get away from here.” He swallows hard, eyes shutting for a long time before opening again. “He’ll find out you’re here. Come after you. He wants to—”
“I’m not leaving you, Dad. I can take you with me. Hold on.”
Matt looks up at Leo and Yarah. They both have their hands on Jake with their eyes closed.
“Leo,” Matt says.
Leo opens his eyes. “What?”
“We have to get out of here. Fast. Can you follow me and bring Yarah and Jake with you?”
“I think so. Where to?”
“Back to the house in Brazil. OK?”
Leo nods. “Got it.”
“Once we get away, I need you to heal them both. Can you do that?”
“Yes, but what about you?”
“I’m going to find Jessica.” Matt’s eyes drop to his dad. “Just close your eyes and relax. We’re going to make a little trip.”
Matt shuts his own eyes, put his hands on his dad’s shoulders and thinks of the house in Brazil. He holds his breath for a second and finds the image. “Now,” he says, and relaxes into the image.
There’s a flash of white.
When he opens his eyes, he’s still kneeling on the grass at the old temple site.
“Something wrong?”
Matt swings around in the direction of the voice.
Ryzaard stands behind him in a ragged tweed jacket, looking down.
CHAPTER 129
Before Matt realizes what he is doing, his thighs flex and he lunges up at Ryzaard, ramming him in the chest and tackling him to the ground.
The old man goes down easily and doesn’t resist.
Matt pulls his hand back into a fist.
“You should be dead,” Ryzaard says. “No one survives a black hole.” Fresh blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, and his jaw is still askew. “They must have helped you.”
Matt buries his knuckles into Ryzaard’s face, feeling the crunch of bone near his nose.
He
brings his hand back again.
Ryzaard shakes his head. “If I can’t kill you, at least I can hurt you. And that’s exactly what I’ve done. Taken away everything you love.”
Matt stops his fist inches from Ryzaard’s jawline. Both hands find the front of Ryzaard’s tweed jacket and pull him close. “Where is she?”
“Who?” Ryzaard winces and smiles.
Matt lands another blow on Ryzaard’s face, just above his eye. Bending down, he grabs Ryzaard’s by the lapels and yanks the old man up, holding him inches from his face and staring into his eyes.
“You know you can’t kill me. No matter how much you try, my Stones won’t let me die.” Ryzaard raises an eyebrow and smiles. “But take as much time as you like. Beat me to a bloody pulp. I enjoy the pain. I’ve got all day. Work out your frustration while she suffocates to death.”
Matt shakes Ryzaard violently and shouts into his face. “Where is she?” Spittle bursts from his mouth.
“If you’ll release your grip, I might be able to show you.”
Matt lets go, and Ryzaard’s head slams into the ground.
Ryzaard pulls out a handkerchief and, with a shaky hand, wipes the blood from his eyes. His fingers drop into the outside pocket of his tweed jacket and come out with a jax. When he swipes a bloody finger down its side, a blue holo screen jumps above it.
Matt grabs the jax away from Ryzaard and brings the holo screen close to his face, eyes squinting, chest heaving.
And then he sees her.
Jessica is standing in a room, holding her hand to her mouth, coughing violently. She drops to her knees.
“You’ve got less than a minute,” Ryzaard says.
“I can see you, Matt.” Jessica’s chest heaves in and out as she struggles to breathe. She shakes her head. “Don’t come. It’s a tra—”
The screen goes blank.
Matt jumps to his feet, the jax still in hand. His eyes shoot down at his dad.
How can I leave him?
“The exact location is right there on the jax,” Ryzaard says. “GPS coordinates.”
Matt stares at it.
“You’re wasting time.” The same smile still hangs on Ryzaard’s face. His eyes go to Matt’s dad. “You can’t save her and your father. Which one will you choose?”
