by Sarah Noffke
“If I was the entrepreneur type,” Joseph says beside me, “I’d build a Starbucks right here and make a killin’.”
“I think you’d be haunted by Incan gods for the rest of your life,” I say, taking a seat on the edge of the nearest terrace.
“Well, doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not that sort. I’m the sort to inherit the family business and try not to steer a society of loyal Dream Travelers into the pits of hell,” Joseph says, walking across the field to inspect a couple of grazing wild alpacas.
“That’s quite the lofty goal. I think I’d rather run an alpaca farm. I hear their wool is pretty desirable.”
“Oh yeah?” Joseph turns, giving me a sideways smile. “And where did you hear this from?”
“Fine, you caught me. I read it.”
Over half of Huayna Picchu is now bathed in morning sunlight, and the terrace where I’m kicking my feet back and forth is growing lighter by the second. Joseph has trekked a path to the opposite terrace, and I almost can’t make out the outline of his shoulders since that area is still not graced by the first rays of sunlight.
A breeze carrying the songs of rousing birds and ancient traditions wisps across my skin. Places like this awaken sacred parts of my soul. Remind me I’m connected to more than just Joseph. We’re all connected through consciousness and a history of dreams and ideas. Of course, it’s hard to understand those connections to the degree I feel them with Joseph. His consciousness is almost as familiar as my own. When it presses up against mine, it feels as natural as the sunlight that now caresses my skin. Opening my eyes I can now see Joseph inspecting the far wall, made of rectangular stones.
Two levels up from him a Middling strolls back and forth on the grass, no camera in hand. She looks to be swaying as she walks, like a ghost haunting a hallway. When she reaches the first wall she turns, continuing her march. And across the field I hear her voice, singing a strange melody. Joseph hears it too. He stops, raising his chin to inspect her. She must be thirty feet higher up on her terrace, but it’s hard to tell from my distant vantage point.
The girl’s voice travels softly through the ancient space and greets my ears. Her tone is high, almost piercing. And as the sun rises higher over the mountain ridge her voice climbs with it until her words ring clear in my head.
“I’ll pluck the feathers off your head. Off your head! Little lark! Little lark!” she sings, now doing something that’s more classified as a dance, twirling and sashaying like a young child. She hums, still dancing. Joseph turns to me, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder at the girl and rolling his eyes. I shake my head, bewildered as well. “I’ll pluck the feathers off your eyes. Off your eyes! Off your beak! Off your head! Little lark! Little lark!” the girl sings, now even louder than before. I revolve my gaze around at the tourists now starting to roam through the plaza. They don’t appear to give the girl much attention. Zero actually.
Crouching down low, the girl springs off the grassy plaza, landing on the level below with perfect grace. Her sheet of black hair covers her face. In my mind I feel Joseph’s heart startle as my eyes watch him peer up at the girl one level above him. He takes three steps back. She flips her head up to reveal a heart-shaped face and large, dark eyes.
“Je te plumerai le dos,” Allouette sings with a giggle. Mind racing, heart suddenly hammering, I leap off the wall and sprint for Joseph.
“Et le dos! Et la queue! Et les pattes!” she continues to sing, crouching down again, a toothy grin plastering her chalk-white skin. Joseph slips stepping back on the glossy grass, shuffling backward on his hands and feet until he gains balance. I’m too far away from him. Allouette leaps again, soaring through the air at a distance that’s humanly impossible. Knowing exactly where she intends to land, I push harder. Joseph rolls seconds before she comes crashing down, swiveling her head in his direction.
“Et les ailes! Et le cou! Et les yeux!” she continues, stalking toward him.
Rebounding off the ground, Joseph stands, taking a fighting stance.
“Et le bec! Et la tête! Alouette! A-a-a-ah! Alouette!” she finishes with a cackle, pulling twin blades from her waist.
“Are your fists going to beat my knives?” she says and backs up, spinning so she’s facing me as well. “Or your little sticks?” She indicates the escrima sticks I’ve just summoned. “I don’t zink so.”
Joseph’s eyes flash on me, a mix of worry and hostility. “What are you doin’ here?”
“Finishing a job I started a very long time ago.”
“You murdered our mother,” I say, taking the place right next to Joseph.
“Oui.” Allouette giggles shrilly.
“You’re disgusting,” Joseph says with a shiver.
“You know, killing a laboring woman is really too easy. Takes zee fun out of it. She waz all panting, not fighting. Bleeding, already tortured by Joseph ripping her open. I got tired of the whole zing and slit her throat.”
Revulsion churns in my stomach.
“I waz just about to twist his little baby neck,” she says, pointing the tip of one of her knives in his direction, “when ze most horrific surprise happened out of your dead mozer. You,” she says, swiveling the knife at me. “A girl. And I knew Chase vould want you. Again, he’d be distracted by the idea of pure blood. Men are stupid animals, but undeniably irresistible. I should have been able to stop this madness a long time ago by killing you, but Ren ruined it all. He knocked me out before I had a chance and stole you away. I’ve spent my whole life trying to find you. Killed many a Lucidite trying to gain information on your whereabouts. And now here you are. You will not become Chase’s trophy, your fate is the same as your mozer’s.”
“I don’t think so,” Joseph says, stepping forward. “You’ve gone unpunished for too long and today you’ll pay.”
She sighs, looking tired. “Oh, am I going to have to kill you first? Oh fine, just line up in zee order you vant to die.”
Unexpectedly Joseph disappears. Dread curls through my stomach. He left me! He retreated, like a coward. The space between Allouette and me feels more expansive without Joseph.
“He’s much wizer than he looks,” she says with a high-pitched laugh. “You shouldn’t try and run though, because your time is due.”
“I have zero intention of retreating.” I lunge forward, bringing my sticks up in a block.
The sunlight shimmers around Allouette’s petite frame, making her somehow appear less sinister. Behind her something flickers and without warning she tumbles forward, struck from behind. A stone half the size of her head barrels to the ground beside her. Joseph stands in the morning sunlight, a triumphant smile on his face. “Remember that one?” he says, standing over her heaving body. She’s crouched on all fours, hair shading her face. “T did that one to you the last time with a book. The rock probably hurt a lot worse.”
“Joseph,” I say in a warning, as she tries to stand up again.
“I got this,” he says, giving me a wink. He kicks her once in the stomach, making a guttural sound spill out of her. He gives me another triumphant look as she spits blood onto the pristine grass. “You didn’t think I’d left ya, did ya, Stark?”
“Maybe,” I say, frozen by the grotesque scene.
Again he pulls his leg back and sends it straight into her gut. This time, though, she’s expecting it and grabs his foot and twists it so that he falls down flat on his backside. Looking to be strangely recharged, she whips around, plucking the knife from the ground where she dropped it. Before I can move fast enough she twirls around, holding the knife against his throat. “Let zis be a lesson to you both, zat two on one doesn’t give you advantages, especially when facing me. Now say goodbye to your brozer.”
Joseph’s eyes go wide. He swallows, pushing her blade away slightly from the movement of his throat. My chest is suddenly vibrating with terror. Allouette pricks the tip of the blade to his neck and I spy the tiniest of crimson peek out from underneath it. His eyes wince with shock.
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“Go ahead. Say a proper goodbye. And don’t vorry, you’ll see him very soon,”
“It’s me you want dead, not him. Let him go,” I say.
“Oh, no. Do you see zee gash he’s made in my head? Zat’s unforgivable.”
“Well, you’ve got to make a decision, because you can’t kill us both and I’m the one you want dead,” I say, taking three calculated steps backward. Joseph’s brow knits together with confusion and his eyes scream at me. But I don’t care, I’ve made my decision. “You want me, Allouette, come and get me.”
And I disappear.
♦
The chance I’ve taken is monumental. I’ve risked everything, hoping Allouette knows time is of the essence. Even the seconds it will take to slit Joseph’s throat will cost her my ripple. It will dissipate almost immediately. Ren would have taught her to track the same way he taught me. Time is crucial. She knows that.
Birch trees, none bigger than two feet in diameter, most much smaller than that, surround me. Using the time of day to my advantage, I traveled back to dusk. The forest floor makes notes with each of my hurried steps. I’m twenty feet from where I landed when I hear her singing.
“Frère Joseph, frère Joseph.”
Sliding behind the closest and largest birch tree, I suck in a breath. Leaning forward, I catch the sight of Allouette grabbing a birch tree in one outstretched hand and swinging to the next, like she’s performing in some demonic musical. “Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?”
I have zero idea how I’m going to kill her, but I know without a doubt that I can’t allow her to continue to stalk me. The forest ground, padded with twigs and leaves, is unforgiving to the three steps I take to a more solid-shielding birch tree.
Allouette covers the gleeful giggle that falls out of her mouth. “Roya’s steps are ringing! Roya’s steps are ringing!” she sings, swaying faster in my direction. Only ten feet away from her I crouch down low, knowing I need to move out of the track she’s currently on. If I just move quietly enough that I can shift my position to an unknown one, then I’ll gain an advantage.
“Ding, daing, dong. Ding, daing, dong,” Allouette sings, continuing her pursuit. I shuffle my feet backwards on each of the words, hopefully covering the sounds of my movement. When she whirls around, sensing I’ve doubled back, I’m already another ten feet away from her. Now I squat down, hiding my figure sideways behind a birch tree, which has plates of bark falling off it, giving it more width than normal.
“Remember vhen you lied about killing Zhuang?” she sings, snaking a path back through the trees. “I have zeen him. He’s as real and beautiful as ever. By ‘kill him,’ did you mean ‘make him better’?” She’s now moving faster, head whipping back and forth, almost amused as she searches the forest for me like I’m an Easter egg. “If zo, come and do the zame thing to me.”
Allouette half skips to the birch tree in front of the one where I was hiding. I think she’s spotted me because she instantly slows her progress. She throws her hands in the air and spins around like she’s practicing for the role of Maria in Sound of Music. A giggle, which sounds almost nervous, chills the air, and then she continues her march. One of her black lace-up boots steps, surfacing on the other side of my tree, and to my relief it’s quickly followed by its companion. When she’s just about to march past me I spring out of my hiding spot, walloping her lower back with my escrima stick. Instead of falling down, she sprints forward. I take this opportunity to scurry backward, darting through the trees. Now my location is known. Worse than that, she isn’t as injured as I’d like her to be from the assault.
I have two options now: turn around and face her or run like hell. I choose the second, crisscrossing my way through the white trees. Sometimes they’re too close together for me to negotiate between, causing me to have to retrace to another path. This only makes me worry about the precious space I’m allowing between us. And then a new worry strikes. A knife sticks into a tree, inches from my head. Squatting down lower I weave my way through the forest. I know this stance gives more surface area for a blade to hit and makes me slower, but since Allouette looks to be going for a head injury, I feel this is a calculated risk.
Blades now fly past my body every few seconds, most accompanied by a “zing” sound and a splash of displaced air. Each makes me worried that a misstep will take me into the trajectory of a blade. I’m all instinct, being led through the forest path, not making any conscious decisions of my own. I’ve always felt safe in the forest, been protected by one force or another. I make an abbreviated prayer that this will remain the case here.
Blindingly hot pain scorches my calf as a knife slices through my flesh. My feet lose their footing and my stomach lurches at the idea that the muscle of my leg is separated unnaturally. Fire races up my leg, all my other muscles paying the price for the injury that I must ignore as I stagger for a cluster of trees, more close knit than the prior patch.
The sunlight now casts horizontally through the leaves and trees, giving everything a weird shimmer. From my hideout in the cluster I’m partially hidden by a bush if I remain low.
“I like zee decoration you’ve left on the ground here,” Allouette says, too close. “Your blood splatters out zo prettily.” She giggles, like a girl told an especially good secret. “And there’s zo much of it. I like to zee that.”
Allouette’s obsidian eyes follow the path of the blood and then they light up with evil delight. “Are you going to come out and play or shall I encourage you?”
Behind me is a stupid clearing, no places to hide, only an open field of dirt and patches of grass. In front of me is Allouette surrounded by a few thousand birch trees. Tons of tiny hiding places, none big enough. I don’t even chance a look at my leg, but for some reason it feels better than moments prior, not as fragile. Still, the fire around the cut is quickly draining me. Making a split-second decision I dart to the left, sprinting as fast as I can back through the birch trees. If I can just find a place to hide for a moment I can lure her to me.
And then the second blade intrudes on my skin, nicking me like a spear along my forearm. It feels like a paper cut. Still I continue to sprint and weave.
“Come on, little lamb, you’ve got to be tired now,” Allouette sings as more blades whistle by my head, all sticking into immature birch trees or straight into the earth decaying with bits of bark.
I second-guess a passage through a grouping of trees and my punishment comes in the way of another blade ripping across my bicep. This one is deeper than the last, guaranteed to mark my steps with blood. Running won’t work anymore. I dart forward, picking up a stick that’s about the length and width of the escrimas I dropped while running. Backing up three steps I stride out, so that I’m facing Allouette on profile.
She halts immediately when I come into view. Evening sun casts around her dark frame, outlining her like she’s made of coal and ice. “You know, Chase vill not be coming to your rescue tonight. No one vill.”
Chase is usually stalking me in every dream travel. I half expected him to be sitting on top of Funerary Rock at Machu Picchu, staring down at Joseph and me. Observing us.
“You see, I have made him indisposed for zee night. I’ve made him indisposed for several nights, waiting for your energies to pop into zee dream travel realm, and here you are.” Her laugh sounds like that of a coo from a demented pigeon. “Your little stick is really cute. But you’re zo deluded to think it stands a chance against my knives?”
Sweeping forward, she moves with a practiced grace, her long skirt punctuating every movement, like it’s a part of the dance.
Advantages happen in battles when a person can take their opponent by surprise. For this reason I step forward. “Ren said you kiss like a horse gobbling up an apple and have the table manners to match.”
She halts, lowers her pointy chin, and gauges me. “Did he?” She shakes her head, like shaking off a memory that attached to her like a spider web she just walked through.
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��Is it true that you start to smell like bad eggs if you haven’t showered in a while?” I ask, starting to meander my way through the trees, not toward her, but rather making an arc.
She begins her familiar cackle when I cut her off. “That’s what Chase said,” I say nonchalantly. “But maybe I didn’t hear the details right since I was breathless and naked.”
A hiss pierces the almost night air. “You’ll go to hell for lying, girl.”
“They’re not my lies,” I say, completing a half-circle around her. She twists around, having lost track of my progress through the woods. “These are only the things the men you’ve left unsatisfied have shared with me.” I take two steps toward a smoldering Allouette. A knife with a dark handle is pinned in her hand, her knuckles going white from the fierce hold she has on it.
“When you’re dead, I’m going to cut out your heart and make pâté out of it,” she says, no sing-song quality to her voice any longer.
“Do you know where we are?” I ask, weaving my way through the trees, allowing her to trail me.
“I do not,” she says, pacing her steps with mine. “Vell, I know you’ll die here.”
“Actually, I thought this was the perfect place for you to die tonight,” I say, retracing my steps to the place where we started. Turning, I flash her my murderous eyes. “This is the Voyageurs National Park. A proper resting place, don’t you zink,” I say in my worst French accent.
She grimaces. “Americans are really obnoxious people. You especially.”
“I can’t argue with any of that,” I say, planting my feet and spinning around to face her.
As I suspected she’s racing toward me, the knife high above her head. I crouch down low, send my front leg back, and pivot around completely, throwing the stick into her abdomen sharply as she closes the distance. Without taking a breath I bring my opposite elbow down on her back, sending her body flat to the forest ground. She crumbles and I almost do too, from the effort my sliced muscles have endured. I stumble backwards, deciding how to finish her off. She’s panting on the ground, slowly rising up onto all fours. Now that I must face the idea of killing someone it feels all wrong. Would watching my back in fear of attack for the rest of my life be worse? Too fast Allouette has her feet underneath her, perched so low that her behind must be close to grazing the floor.
