by Jim Stein
“So your boy in there drives miles across an alien world to trash the artifact holding open the only way home. Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me.”
“Ed will be trapped!” Anna saw it now. “Piper, we have to do something.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Koko wouldn’t send them in if there wasn’t a way back. Maybe I’m wrong. It might take time for the energy to dissipate, time they can use to get back out.” She shot Charles a glare. “I’ll chase down Koko and ask. Stay with Melissa and the others. If it does take a while for the desert to disappear, we might need to be packed and ready after all.”
Anna bit her lip as the other woman grabbed the big shotgun and headed out. She really ought to help, but Piper had a look in her eye that said she needed to do this alone. With the invaders pushed back, it ought to be safe out there—or as safe as it could be with Dark forces mingling with Light.
It was surreal to think the Dark Court had come to help—or what was left of them had. She didn’t trust any of them, not even Rhonda now that it was clear the woman was part of that world. Piper should be safe enough. She’d never been the direct target of their attentions—unlike Anna, Quinn, and Ed.
“He’s not going to tell the truth. Check your legends. Kokopelli is called the trickster for good reason.”
The drummer needed to go help the others and give her time to think, but he seemed perfectly happy to stay and torment her.
“Ed trusts him and so do I. Is ‘Trust no one’ something from your military background?”
“No.” He reigned in an explosive laugh. “That would be the teaser for an old science fiction show. My motto is do it yourself because no one will do it for you.”
“Sucks to be you.” Seeds of doubt made her queasy and rude.
“All I’m saying is to give it some thought.”
21. Doppelganger
“N
O WONDER Ralph’s stuffing his pockets. This tastes like bittersweet honey.” Pete licked his fingers and handed another sticky brown cube to the imp.
“I can’t believe they bought your act.” Pete had been hamming it up so badly I’d expected our captors to laugh.
Instead, the guards had rushed in when Pete went into his wailing and thrashing fit. His performance had them worried. One ran to fetch the heap of sweet treats to round out our meager meal of stone-ground bread, veggies, and soft cheese.
“Dwain’s right, they know squat about medicine.” Pete shrugged as he counted the messy sweets. “How could anyone think I was simply hungry? Dry heaving and praying for death? That was some top-notch acting, and these heathens throw food at me.”
“Ancient cultures used honey as a cure-all,” I said.
The fact they trotted out a good two pounds of the stuff for a prisoner spoke to a hidden generosity, especially with the crops failing and winter coming. Or maybe it was perishable, and they just couldn’t take it along on the invasion of our world.
“No, it’s just a treat.” Dwain studied a cube, shook his head, and made a sour face as Pete popped another into his mouth. “I’ve heard them talking about how it’s the one thing growing well. These forest fungi get aged in urine to draw out the toxins and bring the sweet sugars to the surface.”
Pete gagged and spat. The cube he’d been chewing arced to the sandy floor amid sputtered curses. He pushed the pile out to arm’s length while continuing to spit and hack. Ralph took that as a sign to help himself, and the pile dwindled as those tiny gray hands blurred into action.
“They’re trying to poison me!” Pete scrubbed his tongue with a thick slice of bread.
“It’s getting dark. Can we focus?” I asked.
The door was rigged to open. During Pete’s flailing, Vance jammed his wad of cloth into the lock’s receiver along the door jamb. So we could back the bolt out once the ceremony began.
“I don’t know if your imp is going to have room for that short staff of yours,” Dwain said, motioning to the wet stain where the pile of sweets had been.
“Let’s just assume his magic pockets are bottomless. I’m more worried about him understanding what to do.”
“He’s got it.” The sprite ticked off Ralph’s role on stubby fingers. “Go find Dawa, make sure he has your staff, and bring it back to the zoomy cars.” Dwain rushed on when I raised an eyebrow. “That’s how he thinks of the all-terrain vehicles. Ralph wants to drive one someday.”
“Good.” I nodded and Ralph mimicked the gesture with a goofy fang-filled grin. “Let’s give the ceremony twenty minutes to get rolling. It’ll be a little darker by then.”
Thanks to Dwain we knew the Ants planned on a long litany of prayers and offerings to their twin gods. Hopefully, they would be so absorbed in their rituals that we could slip away unnoticed. The early moon was bright enough to keep us from running into a gully, so we’d push the vehicles around the river bend before firing them up.
The hard part would be quietly taking out our guards. Bashing them over the head felt pretty barbaric, especially given they’d tried to help Pete. But we couldn’t risk them sounding the alarm.
“What if we head in the wrong direction?” Quinn asked. “You haven’t used the staff since that first day in the forest. If we have to backtrack through the village, they’ll be waiting for us.”
“It really doesn’t matter.” Manny shrugged. “The only flat road out of here runs upstream. If we have to circle back, we’ll do it on the other side of this ridge.”
“We can always do a quick staff check when Ralph brings it back,” I added to head off another argument.
“I wouldn’t risk it until we are well away.” Manny hadn’t agreed with a single idea all day, but he might be right. “These beings possess potent magic. If they sense the staff’s power, our plan is toast. Let’s find our stuff and get the hell out of here. Then you can pick a direction.”
Time crawled by as more and more creatures shambled down from the village. By sunset, the road between fields was clogged for a stretch of perhaps two hundred yards. Even more packed into the section of crops cleared for the dais. Two thousand twisted creatures and Ants prepared to call on a pair of deities at war with Earth. And if there were more Ant colonies, this could just be the tip of the iceberg.
“Time to go,” Quinn whispered
I was shocked to see the too-blue moon already sat low on the horizon as Vance worked on the lock. The guards stood together at the cliff face nearest the river. They hadn’t exactly abandoned their post, but clearly picked the spot closest to the ceremony, perhaps hoping to catch a few words of the opening dedications.
Voices did drift up from the field that now glowed under a sea of torches, but only Superman would be able to pick out words from this distance. Although the guards had made getting the door open less risky, we had a lot of ground to cover without one of them noticing.
“Got it.” Vance eased the door open.
“Head for our rides. If our stuff is still lying around, get as much onboard as possible, but gas is the priority.” I waved Manny and Vance into the shadows and turned to Dwain and Ralph. “It’s go time, little buddy.”
The sprite huddled with Ralph, and the next thing I knew the imp was gone. Dwain gave a thumbs up and followed the others. Pete, Quinn, and I moved as quietly as we could toward our guards. I scanned the ground and picked up a heavy flat stone. Pete grabbed a similar weapon.
My self-congratulations spiked into anxiety when the feeling of being watched returned. Not only that, the guards were gone. Both had been leaning against a short wall sheltering the entrance to a first-floor dwelling. If they’d seen us approaching and waited in ambush, our rocks would be useless against those nasty hooked staffs.
I pointed two fingers at my eyes and waved Quinn out to our right with my best commando impersonation. Pete and I hefted our puny weapons, worked our way to the end of the wall, and waited.
Quinn darted between carts parked in the open circle until she reached the stone well rising at
its center. She moved stealthily, but was all too visible under the rising moon. The angle gave her a better view. She’d either wave us forward or act as a decoy so we could jump the guards.
Quinn tilted her head for a long moment, scratched her temple, and stood. The rough surface of the rock sat cold in my sweaty hand. Pete and I exchanged a nod, both ready to strike when the Ants went for Quinn. But she waved and motioned for us to circle the wall. What the hell?
Pete shrugged and cocked his right arm back, ready to bring his fist-sized rock down on someone’s head. They waited on the other side—I could feel it. We crept around the stonework. Sand drifted to the ground as my left hand skimmed along the rudimentary mortar. The acrid smell of burning pitch wafted on the wind as we rounded the corner.
Shadows clung to the alcove beyond the wall—no guards, no hooks coming for my throat. The inky blackness shifted against the rock as clouds drifted over the moon. Something watched from within the darkness.
The shadows stretched and billowed as if alive. Dark wisps swirled from the ragged edges to disappear on moonlit stonework like licks of overly eager flame dancing skyward from a raging fire. Close-set golden eyes opened near the ground at the center of the shadow, shattering the illusion that the entire shadow was some monumental beast.
Clear sky unveiled the moon and the shadow dispersed to reveal a shaggy four-legged animal the size of a small pony. The wolf—or maybe it was a dog—studied us from a narrow recess. Our two guards lay prone at its feet.
Its golden eyes blazed like headlights. The animal stepped over its kill, and a growl rose in its throat. Unless I brought my rock down just right when the thing lunged, I’d be dinner. The growl rose in pitch, changed to a simpering whine, and a big dog stepped fully into the light. Impossible!
The boxy black muzzle dropped open, revealing gleaming teeth and a lolling red tongue. The head dipped on his broad shoulders, and the breath I hadn’t realized I held whooshed from me. My stone thudded into the sand, just missing my right foot.
I shook my head and blinked back tears as the giant dog took a tentative step toward me. I wanted to believe it was really him. But I’d watched my dog get crushed by a creature of the dark, spoken words over his grave, and yet…
“Is that Max?” Pete sounded incredulous.
This had to be an illusion, a trick to keep me off guard. Yet I knew that goofy grin and battering ram of a tail with its cautious have-I-done-something-wrong half-wag. The only things different were his eyes. Once soft brown, they now shone with gold flecks and vertical pupils, as if he’d acquired snake eyes.
“Why are you two just standing there?” Quinn came up behind us, and I heard her breath catch. “No way!”
I drew in a ragged breath not trusting myself to speak and took a step forward. Max leapt at me, hitting me on the shoulders with his front paws. My spike of fear melted away under the onslaught of wet tongue, cold nose, and fetid doggie breath. I wrapped both arms around his barrel chest, buried my face in thick fur, and laughed. Or maybe I cried because my face was wet when I finally pulled away. I didn’t care. My dog had returned!
“I missed you, you big doofus,” I whispered.
“Careful,” Quinn warned. “He took out the guards. We don’t know what’s going on here.”
“Hey, they’re not dead.” Pete bent to examine the Ants. “Just knocked out. Their collars are wet, but how would he…I mean did he get a strangle hold and choke one out while the other waited for his turn? Doesn’t make sense.”
“Sense or not, we’ve got to get moving.” Quinn waved to our cell. “Help me drag these two back. We can tie them with strips of blanket.”
By the time we had the guards secured, I’d grown used to having my furry companion back by my side. My hand had a mind of its own and wouldn’t stop scratching his bony head and fingering those soft, floppy ears. The golden eyes threw me. When he stepped into shadow, I swear they actually lit the ground like headlights. I’d seen eyes like that before, but couldn’t recall where.
Max followed along as we headed for the ATVs, just like in the old days, except he didn’t stop and sniff every five steps. A glow from the entrance told us Manny and Vance had found the flashlights. In fact, as we entered the garage-sized room it became clear they’d recovered the bulk of our gear.
“Food and firearms are missing,” Vance said.
“What the hell’s that?” Manny asked, which took me by surprise until I saw Max had stuck his head though the doorway.
He didn’t exactly growl at Manny’s tone, but it wasn’t a pleasant come-pet-me sound either.
“You must remember my dog, Max. You and Rhonda complained about him enough on tour.”
“I remember burying your dog. This can’t be good.”
“He took out the guards.” Pete mimed strangling himself, and then falling into fitful slumber. We’d created a thespian monster.
“Any sign of Ralph and my staff?”
“He must still be waiting for his chance.” Dwain gripped Max by his floppy jowls and turned my dog’s head right and left before staring into his eyes. “This is big-boy magic. Somebody broke the rules.”
I’d have to find and thank that somebody if we ever got out of here. Having that big goofy presence in the room was like getting a piece of myself back. The day he died, a ragged chunk ripped from my soul. The wound scabbed over, but never truly healed. I vowed to never let him get hurt again fighting my battles.
Dwain clearly recognized the magic, but stayed tight-lipped about its origins. Pina had been awfully busy lately. As queen of the sprites, she just might be able to tap into the kind of power it would take to bring Max back. Dwain adored Pina—probably was in love with her—so if the spell was against the rules, it made sense he wouldn’t rat her out. Still, I owed her a huge debt for returning my boy.
A roar sounded from the fields below. I thought it was a cheer, but the voices rose into an angry buzz punctuated by occasional shouts.
“Here comes Ralph,” Quinn said from the doorway as another flurry of shouts drifted in.
“Now we’re cooking,” I said. “Does he have the staff?”
“Um…in a manner of speaking.” Her cautious tone had me hurrying over.
Ralph limped across the open ground, his pace deliberate but labored. At first I thought he’d been hurt, but he staggered forward with each step as though dragging something heavy.
“That’s weird,” Quinn said. “I swore he had—oh there!”
A slender person wearing ceremonial robes flashed into sight behind the imp, but vanished just as quickly. The imp struggled the last few yards, pulled himself across the threshold, and held out what I thought was my staff. But what I took from him was a simple length of wood wrapped with cord trailing back to—we all jumped. Dawa stood glaring down the cord binding his wrists.
“Well, that shoots the plan to hell.” Manny glared at the imp, who had collapsed on the floor.
I held tight to the strange, silvery cord. It had to be magic to have let the tiny imp drag the Ant leader away from his ceremony. Dawa held his tongue as he took in the loaded vehicles and gear. There was no hiding the fact we were making a break for it.
“Dwain, I thought you told him to bring the staff.”
The sprite reluctantly stepped out from behind Vance, nodded, and winced at Dawa’s frown of disappointment. Instead of answering, Dwain pointed to the long pouch at Dawa’s belt. Quinn strode over, opened it, and retrieved the tool Koko had given me.
“Hell of a way to bring this over.” She stared daggers at Ralph, but shook her head when he nodded and grinned as if accepting praise. “Now what?”
The shouts outside drew closer.
“They know we’re here.” Pete nodded at the ATVs. “Run for it?”
“Your machines will not work.” Dawa’s statement got our attention.
“But you can make them work.” Manny clutched a spring loaded club similar to my own and closed in on the Ant leader.
&n
bsp; “Only with my brother’s help. It will take us both to undo the block.”
Feet shuffled outside, too loudly to be more than a few yards off. I made a snap decision and untied Dawa. The mysterious cord read my intent, and the restraint slipped away without me having to figure out the knot. I wrapped the line into a loop and handed it down to Ralph, who made it disappear.
“That little one is intriguing.” Dawa rubbed his wrists and eyed our imp. “His kind rarely travel alone, and I’ve never felt their power first hand. How have you managed to train him?”
It wasn’t really stalling because a contingent of Ant guards already shuffled into the room with hooks poised. I shrugged and reached down to rub Ralph’s head. The little guy’s face had fallen when the room began to fill up, and he needed to know we weren’t mad.
“We haven’t trained him. He’s just a friend who got caught up in the early stages of your invasion.”
“A long-overdue plan that is about to come to fruition.” Muuyaw strode into the room, and the guards deftly parted to make a path. “Well, brother, are you ready to concede the prisoners are dangerous? Their guards have been driven into hibernation and may not recover.”
“You work magic in spite of my blocks? Interesting.” Dawa cast a curious glance at each of us, as if puzzling out who had circumvented his nullifying spell.
“I suppose it’s back to our cell?” I refrained from pointing out my dog had taken down their finest, no matter how satisfying it would be to get under Muuyaw’s skin.
I looked around the room and frowned. Max was gone.
“First, we will talk,” Dawa said. “Join me in conference so we may select a path forward.”
22. Guiding Light