Timeless Moon

by C. T. Adams

  “Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

  “Ah. You’re pissed.”

  “Me? Why would I be pissed? It was a logical, well-planned, perfectly executed—” His voice sounded just like he planned, sarcasm like a poisoned whip to lash out at her.

  She didn’t back down. If anything, his tone just set her off worse. A rolling yowl was coiled around her harsh whisper. “It worked, didn’t it? Or is that what’s bothering you? You weren’t making the decisions. You weren’t in control, and yet somehow it still worked. All these years away, and I’m still miraculously alive through stupid, thoughtless plans.” Her hands were on her hips, that ridiculous purse swinging from her wrist as she glared at him, green eyes blazing.

  Distantly he was aware that the other travelers were watching. Some smiled, others were moving to give them a wide berth.

  “We don’t have time for this now.” Rick closed his eyes and growled.

  “No. We don’t. But let me tell you one thing Mr. Atwood.” She spit out his new name like a curse and with the practiced ease of a Wolven pro. “I have been taking care of myself for a very long time without your help. Believe me when I tell you I can manage just fine. So don’t you worry about me one little bit. You just take care of your end.”

  She stalked off, her suitcase squeaking as it rolled along the floor at a fast clip. A big part of him was tempted to let her go, but no. He’d regret it, and sooner rather than later. He just wished he could figure out why love and anger were so closely married in their relationship. But, they were scheduled on the same flight in a couple of hours so he’d better go after her.

  Too, if anything happened to her—if the snakes got to her because he wasn’t there—he’d never forgive himself. He’d never forgive himself for losing her a second time, annoying as she might be right now. So he adjusted the strap on his duffel, moved it up on his shoulder and started following at a distance.

  She backtracked until she wasn’t more than thirty or forty feet from the shoeshine stand. The crowd seemed to have dispersed for the most part, but the area from the restroom to the shop just past the stand had been cordoned off. A pair of uniformed security guards were keeping passengers at a distance while the animal control officers struggled with the problem of safely capturing a huge, venomous reptile.

  He only allowed himself to be distracted by the spectacle of it for a moment. Turning his attention back to Josette he watched in sudden admiration as she stopped, pretended annoyance that the bathrooms were cordoned off, and turned away.

  Rick moved to where she had been. Yes, there it was, the scent of a male snake, musty, but without the acrid overtones of most of the venomous breeds. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be dangerous. In fact, he might be more so, particularly now that they had the upper hand.

  With his long legs, it didn’t take long for Rick to catch up with her. “Do you have a plan?” He felt like biting his tongue the minute the words slipped out of his mouth. The question hadn’t been a bad one, but he hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic.

  “Yes, but it requires your cooperation.” The look she gave him said plainly that she wasn’t sure he’d give it. She continued walking, and kept her voice pitched softly enough that no one could easily overhear. “The last group of snakes I ran into had done their homework. They knew I could hold them motionless. In fact, they were counting on it. They’d done something, probably some ritual magic, that was like Raphael’s death touch. When I used my personal magic to hold them it triggered the trap and started draining me.” She sighed, then shook her head.

  “I’m thinking it’s an amulet of some sort; probably something small enough to swallow, so that it stays with them in either form.”

  “That would make sense. I just wish I knew more about the kind of magic we’re up against.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t run across it having worked with Charles for so long.”

  “This isn’t his kind of thing.” Rick knew he sounded defensive. He couldn’t help it.

  “No. I suppose it isn’t.” She reached out to touch his arm. “I meant no insult. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

  “Fine.” Rick let go of his irritation, forced it into a tight ball and threw it out into the crowd. It was something he learned while he was in Wolven, and it served him well here. He might start one fight with one group of people, but it wasn’t such a broad brush that it would affect everyone in the concourse. “None taken. So what is the plan?”

  “Can you use your empathy to literally scare someone stiff, so that they’re caught like a deer in the headlights?”

  “Um…probably. But won’t that trigger the trap?”

  “It shouldn’t. The trap is for power imposed from the outside. The emotions will be immobilizing our victim from the inside.”

  “Okay, I hold him still. Then what?”

  “I touch him, and see if I can trigger a real-time vision.” Rick felt his eyebrows rise to disappear beneath his bangs.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I have a lot more control than I used to.”

  Rick didn’t mention the vision in the plane, or the hotel or car. She hadn’t seemed to have much control over those. But the look on his face must have been eloquent, because he could feel her annoyance rising.

  Raising his hands in a placating gesture, he held off the impending tirade. “Fine, you trigger a vision if you can. If you can’t?”

  “I fake it.” She smiled so sweetly it was positively poisonous.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Their big fear is my abilities as a seer. It’s why they want me dead. So I give them a seer and you shake him until we see what falls out.” She grinned. “Not literally, of course. There are too many surveillance cameras.”

  “You’re actually looking forward to this.” The accusation popped out of his mouth and he could hear the surprise in his voice.

  “Why yes, I am.” Her smile faded, her eyes going very dark until she looked, and smelled, dangerous. “I am getting very, very tired of these people. They’ve tried to kill me. They destroyed my house, my car, my life. They’ve killed Ellen and her mother, and God knows how many others. I’m going to find out why. And then they are going to go away.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  THEY FOLLOWED THE scent through the main intersection, to a glossy black door with a silver handle. The door had been forced open, the simple lock in the knob no match for Sazi strength. Josette pushed the door open with Rick at her heels and found herself in a narrow service hallway with plain white walls that stretched up to the high ceiling, the expanse of painted drywall broken periodically by black doors similar to the one she’d just walked through. Each door had been painted with a gray stenciled code number.

  This area of the building was for employees only and apparently didn’t get much use. The scent of humans was here, but faint. The scent of snake was not. He was here. Behind one of those doors. And he was afraid.

  She shoved her suitcase against the far wall. It would only get in her way. Her purse she kept with her. It was smaller, and had their tickets and her identification. On the off-chance someone did come down the hallway, she didn’t want to lose it.

  Rick set his duffel on the floor next to her suitcase. Moving in front of her, he took the lead. Slowly, silently, they followed the trail to one of the doors. With a hand signal, he directed her to stand against the wall on one side of the door while he took the other. Turning the knob, he yanked the door open.

  Josette felt more than saw the movement as the snake’s head dropped down into the doorway. She heard Rick’s gasp of pain as its fangs sank into his left arm and muscular scaled coils started to wrap around his chest. Using his free right hand he grabbed the snake behind the head and began to squeeze, blood and meat spurting as his fingers dug through the scaly flesh.

  She felt the electric heat of magic as Rick sent his power into the reptile. Its red eyes widened, the slit pupil dilating until there was only a faint ring of color showing. She c
ould hear his heartbeat racing, smell ammonia panic as the creature froze in place, too terrified to move.

  Josette followed Rick as he walked awkwardly through the doorway, his body overbalanced and top heavy from the weight of the constrictor’s body. She pulled the door closed behind them.

  The room they were in was large, but not spacious. Most of the area was occupied by a maze of pipes of various sizes that snaked around one another like a nest of vipers. Information was painted on the sides of the larger pipes, or posted on the metal brackets that connected them to each other and the supporting walls. A black metal staircase led up to two levels of catwalks that provided maintenance access to the higher pipes. The room was lit by large electric bulbs protected by metal caging that cast eerie shadows onto the bare concrete floor.

  “He’s fighting me hard, you’d better do this quick.” Rick’s voice sounded strangled and breathy.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Just, do it.”

  She reached out to lay her right hand on the body of the snake. Its tan and brown mottled scales were cool and smooth beneath her skin. Her hand slid over the muscled body as easily as her mind slid into the vision.

  She was rushing down a hallway in the body of a young man, walking fast, not quite running. Anger bubbled through her veins. They had failed. She was not dead, the book of knowledge had not been recovered. The priests needed all three volumes—The Book of Faith, The Book of Power, and The Book of Knowledge, to bring on the days of renewal and the new era. Without the books, all of the sacrifices in the world would not allow her to be born and rise to the Goddess she was meant to be.

  Word of the failure had been sent in the form of a messenger from Paolo Rivera, the secular jefe of their people. The messenger had been snide, the words from his mouth might be suitably humble in addressing the high priests, his tone had certainly not been. It reflected the attitude of the jefe himself. He believed that the priests had grown soft over the centuries of her hibernation, but it was his arrogance that was the real threat.

  Paolo had always underestimated the Sazi and their allies, believing them to be fools addicted to luxury and soft living—never noticing that he himself lived in just as much luxury as any. How many of his people had the little cat killed over the years? And the Prince who led the Sazi snakes—Paolo considered him a child and a weakling. He would not risk including him in their plans. But Ahmad had killed Sargon. And while Sargon may have been a madman, killing him was not the act of a weakling.

  The snake writhed beneath her hand, and magic poured from his body in an electric wave that blistered the skin of her hand where she touched him, bringing her abruptly back to her body.

  Rick’s eyes narrowed, blazing gold with his magic and anger. He began unwrapping the snake from his torso as if uncoiling a rope, blood pouring in wet rivulets down the snake’s body from the wounds Rick’s fingers were digging in its neck.

  The reptile gave a massive shudder, then his body stilled once more.

  She was in a private library. Books of all shapes and sizes lined every wall. Many were bound in leather with gold foil. Others had more esoteric coverings. A set of modern paperbacks were stacked crookedly on the desktop. She recognized the cover and titles. These were the Sazi training manuals that had been printed in the guise of fantasy novels.

  But it was not one of these that was open on the desk. No, this was a far older volume, its parchment pages were yellowed and brittle with age. The ink with which it had been written had discolored until it was no longer a rich purple, but more of a reddish brown. Still, the words were legible enough, and they described just the ceremony they would need to create amulets that would counter the little cat’s abilities. Always assuming, of course, that the translation was correct. It was not a certainty. Only half of the spells they had tried using this particular copy had been effective.

  He hissed in irritation. Sargon had insisted on keeping the book in his personal possession. He had been right not to trust Paolo. But his death had thrown everything into disarray. The book was missing—missing. So that now they only had the corrupted translation to work from.

  “No!” A voice intruded on the vision. It was a boy’s voice. It belonged to the snake in Rick’s hands. The vision wavered, becoming transparent as his magic fought hers.

  Their powers wrestled. The vision of the library wavered and was gone, replaced by shattered images: temples built on temples like Russian nesting dolls. Visions of priests and rulers with different faces, different garb, but serving one purpose throughout the long generations. Together they served and protected the great creature gestating below ground. She, the goddess who would be born, and with her birth would renew the fortunes of their people. They were almost ready. The temple built, the sacrifices gathered—

  A purely mental scream of rage and terror shredded the vision. The connection between her and the boy broke

  “Shit!” Rick collapsed to his knees. Josette couldn’t seem to move. A white-hot needle of pain lanced through her left eye drawing tears that poured unheeded down her cheeks. The room around her was a complete blur. Only Rick seemed to be in focus.

  He stayed on the floor for long moments. He was deathly pale, his breathing was as ragged as if he’d run a marathon. Circles of blood darkened the sleeve of his shirt where the snake had bitten him.

  “Are you all right?” It seemed to take all of his effort to speak.

  “Are you?”

  “He gave me one hell of a squeeze that last time. But it’ll heal. You?”

  “My head feels like it’s going to explode.” She took a few unsteady steps over to the staircase. Sinking gratefully onto one of the lower rungs she sat with her head between her knees. If she was lucky, in a few minutes her body would heal whatever damage had been inflicted. If not, well, she didn’t want to think about that.

  The phone in her purse rang. The sound was so loud that she whimpered in pain. Rick crawled across the floor until he was at the foot of the stairs. Turning, he sat with his back propped against the metal.

  Josette fumbled with the clasp of her purse, but finally managed to withdraw the phone. She flipped it open and hit the button to answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Who am I speaking to?” Raphael’s voice was heavy with suspicion.

  “This is Cerise.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Oh for God’s sake Raphael! Give me a fucking break.” She gasped in pain. Shouting made the headache excruciating. “Fine, I have a twin sister who is mated to you. Your daughter with her is getting married this summer to a man neither one of you likes very much. You will be giving the bride away, but Charles is going to get the first dance. I helped come up with the compromise because you have both been fathers to the girl.”

  “Good enough. Why the hell didn’t you check in? What’s gone wrong now? Do you need help or backup?”

  Rick reached over to take the phone from her hand. “We caught the other snake. Josette used her gift to get some information from him. It got a little messy, but we’ll heal.”

  “Are you going to be make your flight? It leaves in ten minutes.”

  “Yeah, but somebody will have to clean up the mess—unless you want to leave it to the humans?”

  “I’ll make the arrangements. Just catch the damned flight.” He hung up without saying another word. Rick snapped the phone shut and dropped it into Josette’s bag.

  Josette rose, groaning, to her feet. She extended her arm down in an offer to help Rick up as well.

  They strapped Rick’s duffel onto Josette’s suitcase using the strap that had been built into the bag’s handle. Then they draped the garment bag on top. With the wheeled bag acting almost as a walker Rick and Josette made their way as fast as they could manage through the concourse to their gate as the last of the passengers were lining up to board.

  “Are you all right sir?” The pretty blond attendant who took his ticket looked him over carefully, her blue eyes lingering on
the fresh, dark red stain on his sleeve.

  “I’m a bit tired is all. It’s been a long day.” He very deliberately let go of the bag to shove the sleeves of his shirt up enough to reveal his forearms. Seeing that there were no marks or injuries, she relented, giving him back his ticket with only a slightly strained smile.

  He followed Josette through the square tube and around the accordioned comer. When they reached the plane itself he detached his duffel from her suitcase and collapsed the handle so that he could carry both bags into the plane.

  It took a few minutes to board. They had to wait as passengers crammed luggage into the overhead compartments. He desperately wanted to get to his seat. His ribs were healing, as were the organs that had been damaged in the scrap with the snake, but he still hurt, and the healing was taking all of his energy.

  The smell of panic assaulted his nostrils as he passed a woman seated near the center of the plane. Her eyes were closed, her mouth moving silently as she fingered the beads of a rosary. He expected his beast to rise to the bait, but apparently he was too injured to react. He supposed that every cloud had a silver lining. At least he wouldn’t be having to work not to change and hunt while in flight. Wouldn’t that just be a nightmare?

  Still, the woman’s fear reminded him forcibly of Josette’s reaction earlier. Reaching out a hand, he touched her shoulder so that she turned to face him. “Are you going to be all right?”

  She gave him a weary smile. “So far so good.” One corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and she gave him a wry look. “I think I’m too damned tired to be really afraid at the moment.” His eyes sought her. “Here’s hoping that lasts until we land.”

  “I hope so.” He stopped as she started to scoot into her assigned seat. Reaching up he started to load their bags in the overhead compartment. It hurt. A lot. Apparently the snake had managed to screw up the alignment of his spine when he’d broken the ribs. Rick grimaced in pain, but managed to get the luggage stowed safely away. He settled gratefully into his seat before continuing. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be much use to you on this flight.” When he twisted at the waist to fasten his seatbelt pain shot through his body in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.