Curse of the Painted Lady (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 3)

by K Patrick Donoghue

  “Huh?”

  “Aja said I should go with you to park the car. She wants the license plates off,” she said, holding up the screwdriver.

  “Ah. Good thinking,” Goodwin said. Reaching into the backseat, he pulled out the backpack and handed it to her. “The lyktyl’s inside. Give me the screwdriver, I’ll take care of it. You get aboard and start the plane.”

  “Nah, it’ll be quick. Come on, let’s go,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat, bag on her lap.

  “All right. Fine,” he said.

  As Goodwin drove back to the small lot, he angled the car toward the spot underneath the trees he’d occupied before. Kora looked around and suggested they park among the junked planes instead. “It’ll take them longer to find it.”

  “Okay, good idea.”

  With the car wedged between partial fuselages of old propeller planes, they got out and Kora held up the screwdriver. “You want to do the honors, or should I?”

  “I’ll do it. You stand watch.” He took the tool and knelt down to remove the rear plate.

  “Sounds good,” she said with a cheery smile.

  Goodwin had just finished removing the first screw when Kora grabbed him by the hair and slashed his throat.

  Chapter 16 – Devil’s Due

  In flight over northern Arizona

  September 28

  She sat in an oversized, high-back seat toward the back of the plane. With a proud bearing, she looked down on Pebbles, her lips curled at one corner. She wore an ankle-length, white dress trimmed in crimson and gold. On the woman’s chest rested Malinyah’s medallion. The audacity of the gesture caused Pebbles’ face to flush.

  “Kora!” the woman shouted.

  From behind, Pebbles heard a door open and the sound of approaching footsteps. She craned her neck to see a young woman strut past her head. It was the same woman who’d helped her captor hustle her onto the plane. The woman didn’t stop to look at Pebbles. In fact, in Pebbles’ estimation, the woman seemed to ignore her lying on the floor.

  “Yes, my Queen,” said the young woman.

  “Untie her. Take the gag off. Get her enjyia,” Aja instructed.

  Kora swiftly retraced her path past Pebbles. A moment later, she returned and knelt behind her. She cut away the gag and bindings and then turned to leave.

  “Put her there,” Aja said, pointing to a window seat catty-corner across the aisle to hers.

  Kora helped Pebbles stand and propped her up as she staggered to the seat. Pebbles slid onto the seat and tried to stretch her sweater down to cover for her lack of clothing below, but the fabric would not cooperate. Red-faced, she clamped her legs together and covered her lap with her hands.

  She looked up to see Aja smiling at her, apparently amused by Pebbles’ show of modesty. When Kora returned with a tall glass of enjyia, Aja instructed her to fetch Pebbles more suitable clothes from her bedroom in the back. Kora briefly resisted, reminding Aja she was supposed to be in the cockpit, flying the plane. After a sharp rebuke from Aja, Kora slapped down the glass on a tray by Pebbles’ seat and disappeared into the aft cabin. A moment later, she returned with a beige garment that she tossed on Pebbles’ lap on her way back to the cockpit. Pebbles quickly spread the dresslike piece over her waist and draped it down her legs.

  “Go ahead,” Aja said. “Put it on. It’s impossible to take you seriously, half-naked.”

  Pebbles slowly pulled one arm from the sweater’s sleeve and then the other. Each movement caused her to wince, as needling twinges stabbed along her ribs. With her arms underneath the body of the sweater, she leaned forward and scooped her hands up through the neck hole, lifting the sweater up and over her head in the process. Panting from the pain, she dropped the sweater on the floor and lifted up the dress. As she examined it, she saw it was more like a nightshirt than a dress. A few grunts and sharp pains later, the dress was on and Pebbles settled back into her seat.

  “Now, drink the enjyia. It will lessen your pain,” Aja said.

  Starving and thirsty, Pebbles needed no further encouragement. She lifted the glass and downed the enjyia in four gulps. Lowering the empty glass to the tray, Pebbles wiped at her lips. She felt her tongue and throat begin to tingle. Within seconds, the restorative effects of the concoction began to take hold and she felt her weariness and dizziness start to melt away. Then, the stinging pains in her ribs, wrists and ankles began to fade, as did the throbbing from the bullet wounds. She closed her eyes and exhaled as a warm feeling coursed throughout her mind and body.

  “Better now?” Aja asked.

  Pebbles nodded. Despite the relief, she could not bring herself to thank Muran.

  When Aja spoke again, she did so in her native tongue. “Do you know who I am?”

  “You are The Betrayer,” Pebbles answered back in Munuorian.

  Aja smiled and clapped. “Impressive! Your pronunciation is perfect. I see my darling sister taught you well.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ah! You are surprised. She did not tell you, did she? No, of course she didn’t. I wonder what else she omitted from the memories she shared with you.”

  Pebbles was stunned, not surprised. Muran was Malinyah’s sister? She wanted to lash out and call Muran a liar, but she held her tongue.

  “There is a popular adage in your era,” Aja said. “‘History is written by the victors.’ Many claim to have first uttered the phrase, but its roots go back much further than anyone would imagine. The same sentiment has been expressed for thousands of years, in many tongues and by many victors. The underlying message has always been the same — history is not the same as truth, and truth is not owned by any one person. Certainly not by Malinyah.”

  The sanctimonious tone of the lecture infuriated Pebbles. “You deny it, then? You deny betraying your people? Killing Alynioria? Breaking your oath as an Andaer? Leading a revolt against your own people?”

  “What you call revolt, I call protecting those the Andaers abandoned. What you deem as a broken oath, I declare a necessity to ensure the survival of our race,” Aja said, her voice level and calm. “Are the betrayers not the ones who put the welfare of strangers ahead of their own people? Are they not the ones who condemned the innocent by hiding the truth of what Munirvo would do?”

  “But you used the Tuliskaera to kill your own people!” Pebbles said, pointing a shaking finger at Muran.

  “Ha! How dramatic you are,” Aja said. “A few hundred against thousands is not a fair fight, my child. Were we to be silenced and squashed without being heard? Could we shout our protests over the legions sent to suppress us? Legions armed with Dreylaeks and Breyloftes. You speak as if I used the Tuliskaera unjustly against cowering women and children. I merely used it to defend against the army sent to kill us. Has Malinyah shown you the conflict? Did she show you who attacked whom? No, I imagine not.”

  “But you killed Alynioria!” Pebbles said. “You wiped her mind. You took her body!”

  “And what of my children?” Aja suddenly roared, lifting off her seat. The sudden motion caused the medallion to twirl. “What of their fate? Did sweet Malinyah tell you what happened to them? Answer me! Did she?”

  The urge to leap up and charge at Muran swelled within Pebbles. She gripped the armrests and scooted toward the seat’s edge. Through clenched teeth, she said, “No.”

  “Of course she didn’t. Why would she?” Aja scoffed, tossing her hands in the air. “You have been misled and manipulated. Malinyah, my own sister, ordered the execution of my babies!”

  “What?”

  “She killed them to punish me…so I returned the favor,” Aja said, slumping back onto her seat.

  “I don’t believe you,” Pebbles said.

  “I care not what you believe,” Aja said with a wave of her hand.

  It’s not possible, thought Pebbles. Malinyah is incapable of such an act. She is gentle and kind, compassionate and considerate. Muran’s a liar! She’s just trying to toy with me!

  Pe
bbles glared at her, wishing to strangle the deceitful bitch. Aja laughed at Pebbles’ menacing glare, then reached down to flip the face of the medallion back into place.

  Pebbles focused on the medallion as she fought to suppress her emotions. As her anger subsided and her strength improved, she turned her thoughts to the many questions that had been cycling through her mind since confronting the stranger in the hallway of the home she shared with Anlon. Why had Muran’s stooge kidnapped her? Why did they want Malinyah’s Sinethal? Why had they taken the medallion? Where were they going? Where was Muran’s stooge? Who was Kora? Looking up at the smiling Muran, Pebbles asked, “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

  “I want what was stolen from me,” Aja said.

  “Stolen? I don’t have anything of yours,” Pebbles said.

  “No, but your man does.”

  “You’re talking about Malinyah’s Sinethal.”

  “Yes. And Omereau’s.”

  “Omereau? What is Omereau?” Pebbles asked. “Do you mean Mereau?”

  “Don’t play games with me!” Aja said. She held up the medallion. “You wore the lyktyl, you know exactly who Omereau is!”

  “The lick what?”

  “Lyktyl! The key.”

  “The key to what?”

  “Omereau, you idiot!” Aja fumed. “His Sinethal!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Bah! You spin the same lies as your man did!”

  “Wait. You spoke to him? To Anlon?”

  “Yes, I spoke to him. He was insolent.”

  A wave of relief passed through Pebbles. If Muran had spoken to Anlon, that meant he knew what was going on and who was behind her kidnapping. “Look, I honestly don’t know anything about another Sinethal. Anlon only has Malinyah’s. If you’ve talked to him, you know that.”

  “Enough lies. Do you think I’m a fool? You think I don’t know how Devlin Wilson came by Malinyah’s Sinethal?” Aja gripped the medallion again. “And you had this, which means Malinyah told you where to find it. Why would she have done that unless you had Omereau, too?”

  “You’ve got it all wrong,” Pebbles said, shaking her head. “First off, we don’t know where Devlin found Malinyah’s Sine—”

  “Found? Found!” Aja spat, as she fished out a pair of Dreylaeks from her dress pockets. “Don’t play games with me, or so help me, I will make you suffer.”

  Pebbles scowled, pointing to the cuts and bruises on her face. “Like your goon hasn’t made me suffer already? He freakin’ shot me!”

  Aja began to grind the Stones together, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Obviously, he didn’t do enough.”

  “Look, I don’t know where the Sinethal came from! And Malinyah didn’t tell me where to find the effing medallion! End of story.”

  Aja halted grinding. She stared at Pebbles, her expression wavering between disbelief and doubt. “If she didn’t tell you where to find the lyktyl, then where did you get it? You can’t expect me to believe you found it on your own!”

  “A man named Jacques Foucault gave it to me,” Pebbles said.

  “Foucault!” Aja seethed, slapping down the Dreylaeks. She stared off into the distance and mumbled, “Foucault? How on Earth did it come to that little imp?”

  The question had been rhetorical, but Pebbles provided an answer. “He found Mereau’s Maerlif.”

  “What? He found Mereau! Where?” Aja demanded.

  “I don’t remember the island’s name,” said Pebbles. “It’s somewhere in the Caribbean.”

  “Foucault has his Sinethal? His Tyls?”

  “He has his Sinethal for sure. I don’t know about the rest of his Tyls,” Pebbles said.

  Aja stood and paced. “So, Malinyah gave it to Mereau? How stupid of you, sister! How risky! What if Mereau’s ship had sunk? Or if the pathetic savages had taken it from him?”

  She stopped pacing and spun toward Pebbles. “Why would Foucault give it to you?”

  “He said it belonged to Malinyah.”

  “Ha! Hardly,” Aja said. “And does Malinyah know you have it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she approved of you wearing it about like party jewelry?”

  “Look, we didn’t talk much about it, okay? I told her I had it, that Mereau had returned it. She seemed happy. That was it. She didn’t tell me it had a name, or that it was a key, and she never mentioned Omereau. For f—’s sake, who is Omereau anyway?” Pebbles asked.

  Picking up the Dreylaeks again, Aja recommenced grinding them in a circular motion. “I will find the truth, even if it means you end up like Evelyn.”

  “Evelyn?”

  Aja vaulted up and advanced a step toward Pebbles. “Last chance.”

  Pebbles grabbed the armrests of her seat and darted her eyes around the cabin. Aja held up the glowing Stones and smiled. “There’s nowhere to run.”

  “Look, you have to believe me. I don’t know anything about Omereau, I swear it!” Pebbles said, her voice quivering.

  “Enough!” yelled Aja. She bounced the two Stones together for just a second, but it was long enough for a thin bolt to shoot toward Pebbles, hitting her in the right side of her chest, just below the shoulder.

  Pebbles screamed and fell forward, clutching her shoulder. She rocked back and forth on the floor, grimacing in pain. In between groans, she screamed at Aja. “You bitch! I don’t f—ing know!”

  As Aja readied to zap Pebbles again, the cockpit door burst open and Kora came running into the cabin. Mouth agape, she glared at Aja. “What are you doing?”

  Wild-eyed, Aja maintained her focus on Pebbles. Over her shoulder, she said to Kora, “Get out of here. Fly the plane!”

  Kora stomped across the cabin until she stood between Pebbles and Aja. “Are you crazy? You can’t use those in here!”

  “Silence! Leave us!”

  “Look at her, she’s bleeding all over the place,” Kora said, pointing down at Pebbles. “Let it go for now. You can slice her up all you want when we land, but not up here. You’ll blow us all up!”

  Kora knelt by Pebbles and reached for her discarded sweater. “Move your hand. Use this to put pressure on it. I’ll be right back.”

  As Pebbles took the sweater, Kora stood and faced Aja. “No more. Not until we land. You go fly the plane, I’ll take care of the burn.”

  Aja stepped back and lowered the Dreylaeks. Kora took her by the arm and escorted her to the front of the plane, taking the still-warm Stones from her as they walked. After shutting the cockpit door behind Aja, Kora disappeared into the adjacent galley. A moment later, she returned to Pebbles’ side, carrying a glass of enjyia and a dish towel. She knelt back down and told Pebbles to move the sweater away. Placing the glass and towel on the floor, Kora leaned forward and stripped away the collar of Pebbles’ dress, exposing the wound. As Kora inspected the injury, she said, “You’re lucky. It’s pretty shallow.”

  Kora then folded the towel into a square and poured a liberal amount of the enjyia onto it, squeezing the cloth to speed the tonic’s absorption. When the towel was sufficiently wet, she pressed it against the wound, causing Pebbles to cry out.

  “I know, it stings, but it’ll stop the bleeding pretty fast. Just keep pressure on it. I’ll bandage it up later,” Kora said.

  Panting through pursed lips, Pebbles nodded and closed her eyes.

  “You know,” Kora said, “it’ll be a whole lot less painful if you just tell her what she wants to know.”

  Tears trickled down Pebbles’ face as she shook her head. “But I don’t know. I don’t.”

  Kora gently wiped away a tear from Pebbles’ cheek with her thumb. “Lie still. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She stood and walked to the cockpit, stopping at the galley to grab the Dreylaeks. Stuffing the Stones in her pants pocket, she looked back at Pebbles, then opened the door.

  As Aja guided the plane forward, she mumbled an epithet in Munuorian, incensed by the thought of the tattooed
waif bopping about with the sacred key swinging carelessly like some kind of bazaar trinket. She deserves to be cleaved into pieces! How could Malinyah have treated the lyktyl so cavalierly? Aja fumed. Did she care nothing for their heritage?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the squeak of the cockpit door. She turned to see Kora sliding into the copilot’s seat. Looking through the open door behind her, Aja spied Pebbles lying on the floor, holding a towel to her shoulder. She said, “What are you doing? The girl should not be left alone.”

  “I’ll go back in a sec. First, tell me what happened,” Kora said.

  “She lied to me,” Aja said.

  “About what?”

  “She claims to know nothing of Omereau or the lyktyl! She said Foucault, of all people, gave it to her!”

  “Foucault?”

  “Yes. She said he found Mereau’s Maerlif. Unbelievable! I have searched and searched for the blasted key for thousands of years, and that pipsqueak found it before me!” Aja said, looking back at Pebbles again. Unconsciously, she flexed her raw hands.

  “Let me get you enjyia,” Kora said, rising to leave.

  “I’m fine,” Aja said. “Come back and take the controls.”

  “I will in a little bit,” Kora said, leaving the cockpit. She returned shortly with two soaked cloths. “Here, wrap these around your hands. While you cool down, I’ll go talk with her. Okay?”

  While Aja and Kora conferred in the cockpit, Pebbles held her hand against the towel and tried to ignore the pain. She briefly pondered making a run for the plane’s aft cabin but quickly decided against it. There was no telling if the door had a lock, she reasoned, and even if it did, it wouldn’t stand up against Dreylaeks. Besides, she thought, I’m zero-for-two trying to escape from these people. It’ll only piss off Muran more than she is already.

  Instead, she tried to concentrate on their earlier conversation. She first thought of Malinyah’s medallion. If Pebbles understood Muran correctly, it was like a Naetir, allowing a person to access the Sinethal and memories of a Munuorian named Omereau, whoever that was! Had Foucault known it was a Sinethal key? Pebbles wondered. If so, why hadn’t he said so? More important, why hadn’t Malinyah said anything about the medallion or Omereau?