by RJ Blain
They didn’t give me a chance to take either one of them down, but I had a little bit of hope. If I needed it, if I could act fast enough to make a difference, I could grab the stiletto. Abraham settled me on my mare’s back, the skirt riding up my legs. If either man noticed the shard of dark blue-gray diamond sticking up between my boot and my calf, they made no mention of it, took my horse’s reins, and guided me closer to the red crystal city beside the sea.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Skirting Fort Lauderdale, the skeletal ruins of a town rose from the sea. Abraham released the horses except for my mare, and he shoved her reins into my bound hands. “You like her so damned much, you hold her. We’re here.”
Less than a hundred feet away, the ground yielded to red crystal and the inhabitants of the city frozen in time, a flawless snapshot of life before Starfall’s magic finished embracing the world. “I’ve been here before.”
“When?”
I shrugged, straining my hands to grip the reins and expose my palms for my mare. She ducked her head and breathed in my scent before lipping at me, heedless of her sore skin. I cupped her muzzle, gently resting my brow against hers.
It hurt me knowing I hurt her, but she leaned into my touch as though there was nowhere else she’d rather be. We made a sad pair. The numbness of my lengthy captivity sank into my bones.
Every day, I had watched for a chance to escape, and the closest I’d gotten was adjusting how my stiletto rested in my boot, the diamond shard scraping my calf when I moved in a painful reminder of its presence.
Abraham grabbed my elbow and yanked me along with him. “Enough. The temple is this way.”
“Temple?”
“Where else to bring the dead back to life?”
I’d grown so accustomed to captivity I’d forgotten Abraham Adams had lost any remnant of sanity, and I dealt with a madman. Worry shivered through me. “What sort of temple?”
“One where magic and the real world meet. There, you’ll revitalize Fort Lauderdale. You’ll bring him back. Do you understand? You’ll bring him back!”
“You’re going to try to make the Hope Diamond burst in a combustion zone?” I whispered.
“That’s the idea.”
“You’re insane.”
He backhanded me so hard my head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. March, or I’ll just slit your horse’s throat now, and you can watch her blood turn the ocean red. You’ll do what I want anyway, so don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”
I staggered and doubled over, shaking my head to clear it. The surf washed between my feet, sweeping my skirt back, and water gleamed on the blue diamond shard embedded in the stiletto’s pommel. I dropped my mare’s reins and allowed my arms to dangle limp in front of me.
“Damn it, Abe! You didn’t have to clean the poor girl’s clock. You’re a fucking bear. You hit hard.”
“Shut up. Get up, girl. You’re not dead yet.”
My fingers scraped on the stiletto’s sharp pommel stone, cutting deep enough to bleed. The weight I’d lost had withered my legs, allowing me to retrieve the weapon from my boot. Time slowed as it always did before I made a kill, as though my every sense focused on what I meant to do and ensured I’d never forget the moment I committed to someone’s death.
I wasn’t sure how many weeks we’d been traveling, although I was certain it took longer than two months to reach Fort Lauderdale from Charlotte on horses so sick they often died after a single day’s ride.
They had tortured as many as nine new horses each day for over sixty days.
I’d have to stab my uncle a lot of times to pay him back for each and every one of their deaths. I’d give a few extra jabs for the misery he inflicted on my beautiful little bare-skinned mare. Instead of the chill I expected, the stiletto’s hilt warmed my hands.
It seemed to take an eternity to get a good hold on the blade and yank it out of my boot, but Abraham only had enough time to recoil before I lifted the weapon, clutching it with both hands so I could plunge it into his side. Waves crashed on the coast, and the roar of the sea filled my ears. If my uncle and betrayer of our family screamed, I couldn’t hear him.
My hands remained bound, but I didn’t need them free to yank the stiletto out so I could strike over and over again. If he fought me, I didn’t notice in my determination to deliver retribution for every horse he had murdered. And, understanding where those horses had come from, I added extra strokes for every courier killed due to his twisted determination to change the past.
Long after his body fell into the sea and his blood stained the water pink, I lifted my tired, hurting arms and thrust again. Tears streaked down my cheeks, hot on my cold skin.
“He’s dead,” Edmund Fitzgerald said, his voice soft and calm. I lifted my arms and drove the stiletto down again, my body trembling. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed him standing still, holding the reins of my stubborn little mare.
I pulled the stiletto free, lowering the weapon to the sea so the water would wash away the blood. “Two hundred horses, at least. Probably closer to four hundred. Maybe even six hundred.” I remembered the basic audit done by Dawnfire regarding the number of animals stolen from couriers. “Maybe as many couriers. Two months of my life, gone. Dead isn’t enough.”
Dead was all I was getting. I rose to my feet, staring down at my uncle’s face, slack and wide-eyed in death. I wiped the stiletto off on my skirt and slid it back into my boot where it belonged.
The diamond shard sparked with a blue-white light.
“Are you going to kill me next?”
I found my katana in the surf, belted to Abraham’s waist. It took longer than I liked to work the stiff leather through the buckle. I lifted my hands to my hair, twisting to check if all my feathers were where they belonged. By some miracle, they were.
Maybe the feathers could clean the crusted salt from the sheath. I doubted the belt itself could be saved, but I’d hope for the best for the decorations gracing the katana. I turned and held my bound wrists out. “Show me this temple, give me the Hope Diamond, and leave. So help me if I ever see you again, if you ever go anywhere near Charlotte, the Secret Service, or the President, I will make his death seem gentle compared to yours.”
“You wouldn’t be wrong killing me.”
I wanted to, but I kept my hands still, clutching my katana while waiting for him to untie me. “Were you as guilty as him?”
“Maybe even more so. I find it interesting you killed him without hesitation, but you didn’t turn around and go for me.”
“Untie me and give me the Hope Diamond, Edmund Fitzgerald.”
He stepped to me, wrapped my mare’s reins around his wrist, and grabbed the rope binding me. He murmured several words, and the loops loosened of their own accord. I pulled free, grabbed the line, and threw it into the surf. Despite the salt caked to my katana, it slid smoothly from its sheath. While light for a blade of its size, its weight made my arm tremble.
“The Hope Diamond, Edmund Fitzgerald. Where is it?”
The cheetah shifter nodded towards Abraham’s body. “He has it.”
“Fetch.” I stepped back, the edge of my blade poised and ready to strike. If he gave me a single reason to kill him, I would. “And get your filthy hands off my horse.”
He dropped her reins and stepped to his husband’s body. My horse stepped closer to me, brushing her muzzle to my cheek.
The Hope Diamond’s dark nimbus swallowed the light, and black tendrils spread from Abraham’s body. Blue sparks flashed from the stone. The gem hung from a necklace, and the rainbow sheen of clear diamonds surrounded the dark blue-gray stone, as though it were cradled in the arms of a lover.
I recognized the setting, aptly named ‘Embracing Hope.’
Not a single drop of Abraham’s blood tainted the necklace.
“Show me the temple, and if you even think of trying to touch me with that thing, I will do far worse than j
ust kill you,” I swore.
“The stone scares you.”
“You obviously weren’t the brains of the operation.”
Edmund Fitzgerald frowned but pointed deeper into the ruins. “This way.”
Giving him a wide berth, I followed, careful to guide my mare away from anything that might hurt her. The sea retreated, revealing stubborn grasses clinging to sandy soil. At the top of a knoll, someone had built a square pool surrounded by arched columns reminiscent of Rome’s Colosseum. Unlike the Romans’ work, the temple hadn’t withstood the test of time, crumbling into the pool.
Instead of the murky, stagnant depths I expected, the pool remained a clear, vivid blue, allowing me to see all the way to the bottom, where several columns had sunk.
“This is a temple? To what?”
Edmund Fitzgerald shrugged, stepped to the water’s edge, and seized the Hope Diamond in his hand.
Nothing happened.
The man spewed curses, lifting his arm as though to slam the jewel against the stone. He paused, sucking in short breaths, panting with a wild look in his eyes. After exposure to Abraham, I recognized the signs of madness twisting the shifter’s face into a visage of hatred and impotent rage.
Edmund Fitzgerald reached for his sword and pulled the blade free, turning to face me. “You should have killed me with him.”
I draped the reins over my mare’s neck. “I should have done a lot of things. That’s nothing new. Maybe I like to think mercy should temper justice. I offered you what I was offered.”
“You know nothing of the real world, little girl.” Edmund Fitzgerald wrapped the Hope Diamond’s necklace around his wrist and adjusted his grip on his sword. “I won’t kill you, not yet. First, I’ll finish his work. I’ll see to it the rightful President resumes his place ruling the United States.”
As far as insane lunatics went, Edmund Fitzgerald could pretend to be nice when he wanted to. I sighed. “Before we do this, can I have a minute?”
My question startled the man into taking a step back. “What?”
I gestured to my skirt. “Not really good to fight in, you know? If I’m going to fight, I’d to not trip over my skirt. Be considerate, Mr. Adams. Why did you take his name, anyway? Fitzgerald’s better. You should have made him take yours.”
“Are you crazy? No.”
He tensed to lunge, lifting his sword, and in his hard, dark eyes, I saw his desire to give me a slow, drawn-out, and painful death. No matter how many times I fought and killed, my opponent’s eyes always betrayed them. Whether hesitation or resolve, their desire was reflected in their expression, and it was always something about their eyes.
He would kill me, but he would let me live long enough to force the Hope Diamond over my neck.
I adjusted my stance, aware of my soaked skirt weighing me down. At best, I’d have a couple of steps before the fabric tripped me. When I made my move, I’d have to get it right the first try.
I wouldn’t live to try again.
It took him four strides to close the distance between us. He lifted his sword in an overhead strike aimed for my shoulder. Our blades clashed together with the ring of steel on steel, and he put so much strength into the blow he knocked me back a step.
We stood, every muscle in my tired, worn body straining against his. A growl built in my throat, and I stiffened my stance, preparing to shove him away.
It might’ve worked if my katana’s blade hadn’t snapped. Edmund Fitzgerald’s sword cut deep into my right shoulder. He jerked his weapon free, and my blood stained the steel.
Crimson splashed onto the Hope Diamond.
I sank to my knees, my body going numb with every gush of blood from my shoulder. The chill began in my face, my hands, and my feet, and my broken sword fell from my limp fingers. Around Edmund Fitzgerald’s wrist, the Hope Diamond pulsed to the beat of my failing heart.
Death had come at my hand enough times I recognized when it came for me. Some feared the moment their lives ended.
I couldn’t manage more than a resigned sigh.
The Hope Diamond’s light dimmed, and a broken, raspy laugh worked its way out of my mouth. I hadn’t even touched the damned thing, and it insisted on shining as though my failing life mattered. Somehow, I forced myself to stay on my knees despite the cold seeping deep into my bones.
Edmund Fitzgerald stood over me, frozen and staring down. Instead of taking his chance to finish the job, he gaped. Drop by drop, my blood fell from the man’s sword and splashed into the pool’s water. The ripples on the surface pulled my gaze from the Hope Diamond.
My blood should have stained the water. A blue radiance illuminated the knoll, and the pool’s light gleamed on the Hope Diamond.
The pain throbbing in my shoulder receded, swallowed up by the frigid ice in my veins.
Death didn’t hurt nearly as much as I expected. Something a little like peace settled over me, and I tore my eyes from the water to stare at my killer. My kneeling position made it easy to reach my stiletto, although my arm and hand didn’t work quite right. The weapon slid from my boot and into my chilled palm, begging to be used one final time.
When I had killed Abraham, I hadn’t cared where I struck; I counted on the sheer number of blows to end his life. For Edmund Fitzgerald, I would have one strike and one strike alone.
The man’s attention fixated on the Hope Diamond, which dimmed along with my life. Satisfaction bolstered me.
Maybe it was reacting to my blood, but I had nothing left to give the stone. If it could grant miracles, I was beyond caring. My life would come to a satisfying enough end. Maybe I hadn’t chosen the time or the place, but I would choose my last moment and spend it well. I had a family, and by Edmund Fitzgerald’s words, he meant them harm.
Our lives would end together, and I hoped with the deaths of the two conspirators, the head would be cut from the serpent, rendering it unable to strike at the people I cared for. I’d regret being unable to save my stubborn little mare, but I took comfort in the care I’d given her.
I locked my eyes on my target. Unlike other weapons, the stiletto demanded precision; unless I hit something important, he’d likely survive, especially since I had no substances to ensure his death. The kidney worked best.
With one blow, I’d poison him using his own body. In sea-torn Florida, there’d be no one to help him, not in time.
I gripped the stiletto with all my strength, and once certain I wouldn’t lose my hold on it, I jerked forward, using my body’s falling momentum to force my arm into motion. I whipped the weapon in an arc and drove the slender, rounded shaft into his side.
Edmund Fitzgerald screamed, thrashing and pulling away from me. The stiletto slid free. My left arm moved, bracing me so I wouldn’t fall. I forced my arm into motion and stabbed again. In my weakness, I couldn’t reach his abdomen, so I settled with his thigh.
“For my horse,” I rasped. I yanked it free, leaned as far forward as I could, and struck again, catching him in the calf. The words I wanted to say, the names of everyone my uncles had betrayed, stuck in my throat.
He fell back into the pool, striking the surface of the water. Instead of sinking like I expected, he landed with a thump, his blood smearing as though he slid across clear glass. He scrambled to the other side and disappeared over the ledge. The Hope Diamond fell from his wrist, chimed against the stone, and clattered in my direction. Halfway across, it halted. The stone floated while the rest of the necklace, three bands of rectangular diamonds fashioned into a collar, dipped beneath the surface. The Starfall stone bobbed, and thanks to the daylight, I noticed my blood still clung to its facets.
My stiletto fell from my fingers. If I could stretch out my arm, I could snag the Hope Diamond’s necklace and pull it from the pool without touching the Starfall stone. Allowing it to sink and be lost might protect others from its influence, but I’d sworn to take it back where it belonged. With time, someone would probably find it, likely after the sea, sand, and wind scoured
my body down to bones.
I slumped against the pool’s stone ledge, shaking as I tried to lift my arm. I took it in stages, flopping my elbow on the ledge and waiting for the pain and weakness to ease. Inch by painful inch, I worked my way closer until my hand dipped into the water.
Instead of the late-season chill I expected, the pool warmed my hand. My first few grabs fell short. I lost count of the number of times I reached for the dangling chain, the water obscuring my view of the jewel-encrusted setting. The rectangular diamonds fashioning the setting reflected rainbow hues in the depths.
Frustration gave me the strength to lean forward, rising on my knees to get a little closer to the stone. I reached too far and fell into pool.
Embracing Hope and its pulsing Starfall stone looped around my wrist, and unlike Edmund Fitzgerald, I plunged into the water’s clear depths.
Chapter Fifty-Three
I hung in the water, my arms limp at my sides. I had a vague memory of grabbing the Hope Diamond as I fell, but the stone drifted above me, its glow diminished to the faint shine of light on polished stone. The diamonds of its setting cast shifting rainbows on the pool’s cracked walls. I glimpsed a pattern of circles out of the corner of my eye.
Water flowed into my open mouth, but if I was drowning, I couldn’t tell.
Nothing hurt, and of my regrets, few bothered me. While I had botched my job, I’d gotten the key points done. Abraham and Edmund Fitzgerald would die with their reputations intact, deceiving those who trusted them into believing they’d been victims, too. I minded, but only a little; they wouldn’t bother anyone again.
My mare’s fate, on the other hand, worried me. She had fought so hard to live, and I wouldn’t be able to care for her anymore. Who would sooth her sore, abused skin? Who would make sure she was comfortable when she finally lost her indomitable will to live?
Even if no one found the Hope Diamond, there were other Starfall stones. Maybe, if we were truly lucky, the magic would fade from the world, allowing life to return to normal. Pre-Starfall had never seemed all that normal to me. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t. In all likelihood, another stone would plummet from the heavens and smack into the Earth, beginning the cycle all over again.