Hidden Fire

by Alexis Fleming

  Gili suddenly dropped down and rolled across the ledge. She came up swinging, delivering a punch to Whitey’s back. Fear filled Morgan. His gut cramped. Bile rose in his throat and for a minute, he thought he might heave. He swallowed and gritted his teeth. He had to do something. No way in hell was he going to let Whitey Grissom take Gili from him.

  When he saw Whitey raise a clenched fist at her, a ball of intense rage flashed through him. It roiled in his gut and surged through his veins. For the first time in his life, he felt capable of killing someone, and God help him, if that was the only way he could save Gili and Piri, then so be it. He’d deal with the fallout when they were safe.

  Hands clenched into fists, he tore across the interior of the cavern. “You touch her and I’ll kill you, Grissom.”

  He started climbing up to the ledge. A fresh wave of adrenaline, powered by fear, pumped through him, giving him a strength he didn’t know he possessed. Muscles quivered with the need for action. His breathing sped up, driving oxygen through his blood and clearing his head.

  Now, instead of anger controlling him, his thoughts became sharper. His brain rapidly processed angles for the climb, working out the best scenario for saving Gili and thwarting Whitey.

  He scaled the rock wall in a matter of minutes. He’d just placed his hands on the edge in preparation for hauling himself onto the ledge when a large boot-clad foot came down on his fingers.

  Morgan grunted in reaction. The natural inclination was to pull his hand back but he resisted. Do that and he’d lose his grip and end up smashing onto the rocks below. Instead, he clung to the sandstone edge and tried to use his other hand to catch Whitey’s foot as he kicked out again.

  Whitey almost overbalanced. Morgan used the opportunity to grab hold of the ledge with his free hand and hoist himself upward until his eyes cleared the edge and he could see what was happening. Whitey stood there, his foot back, ready to kick him off the ledge. Gili was behind him, tugging at his shirt to pull him away. Floating over them both was a black shape, and whatever it was, it kept making darting runs at Gili.

  Without looking, Whitey backhanded Gili, catching her across the side of the face. Gili stumbled backwards, smacking into the rock wall of the ledge. Blood trickled down her chin from a split lip.

  Red-hot rage clouded Morgan’s vision for a second. He shook his head, reminding himself what was at stake if he didn’t keep his cool. He’d kill the bastard when he got hold of him. He launched himself the last few feet onto the ledge, rolling across the small shelf to avoid Whitey’s boots. Before he could get to his feet, he saw Gili sneak up behind Whitey again.

  “Gili, get back.” Christ, if Whitey hit her again from this angle, he was just as likely to knock her off the ledge.

  Fear churned in his gut. He dragged in a sharp breath and pushed up onto his knees. Whitey swung at him with a clenched fist. Morgan ducked to one side, getting his feet under him, ready to jump the man when he came close again.

  Before he could do that, Gili appeared directly behind Whitey. She raised her arms up, a large rock sandwiched between her hands. With a satisfying clunk, she brought it down on the back of his head. Whitey crumpled where he stood, measuring his length in the dust. With a loud pop, the black cloud exploded into myriad pieces that flew into the air and disappeared over the side of the ledge.

  “That’s payback for the one you slammed into my head,” Gili muttered before her knees folded and she sank down onto the ground.

  Morgan crawled across to her. “Are you okay?”

  He grabbed her by the arms and dragged her close. “I thought he was going to knock you onto the rocks below.”

  He wiped the blood off her chin with the pad of his thumb. “Damn it, woman, you about gave me a heart attack. Why didn’t you let me know you were going into the mine to hunt for the fire opal? I would have come with you. I didn’t want you in here on your own. It’s too dang—”

  “What? You think I was going to grab the opal and hide it from you?” She glared at him. “I wasn’t trying to steal a march on you, Morgan. I’d already decided the opal belongs here with the tribe.”

  “I know, I heard you when I entered the cave.” He lowered his head and brushed his mouth against hers.

  Gili winced and he pulled back with a grimace. “Sorry, I forgot about the split lip.”

  He tightened his arms about her and swallowed convulsively. “God, I was so worried about you. When I saw you up here with Whitey…” Breaking off, he dragged in a shaky breath. “I wanted to kill the bastard when he hit you.”

  She managed a lopsided grin. “You weren’t the only one.”

  “And what the hell was that black thing?”

  Before she could answer, a soft little voice whispered across the ledge. “Are you okay, Missy Gili?”

  “Oh my God, Piri.” Gili pulled away from Morgan and crawled across to the opposite edge of the narrow shelf.

  Morgan followed and when he looked over, there was Piri perched in a shallow depression, the fingers of one hand clenched around a rocky outcropping. He’d curled the other arm about his middle.

  “Piri, I thought you’d climbed down.” Gili held her hand out to him. “Come on, I’ll pull you up again.”

  “Hold it,” Morgan interrupted. “How about I do it?”

  His reach was longer than Gili’s and he was able to grip Piri’s wrist and haul him back onto the ledge. “You alright, little mate?”

  Piri nodded and turned to Gili, throwing himself into her arms. “I was so scared. I thought the bad man would hurt you.”

  “Why didn’t you climb all the way down?”

  He stepped back from her and pulled his t-shirt up, exposing the fire opal. “I had to keep this safe and I couldn’t get down with only one hand.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I should have thought of that.”

  Gili took the opal, cradling it between her palms. The gem started to glow, softly at first, then flashing arcs of brilliant red.

  “Holy shit.” Morgan’s voice was a study in reverence. “I can’t believe it. That’s the female half of the Dreamtime Fire. Where did you find it?”

  Gili gave a tired grin. “I didn’t. Piri did.”

  A special boy indeed.

  “Everything okay up here?”

  Morgan turned to find Roy, plus two of the men from the station, climbing onto the ledge. He picked Piri up and helped Gili to her feet, the opal still clutched in her hands. Giving the unconscious Whitey a final glance, he grinned at the men. “Guess he’s not going anywhere for a while. Gili got him a good one.”

  “Good going, Missy Gili.” Retrieving a set of handcuffs from the back pocket of his trousers, Roy bent down and inspected the gash on the back of Whitey’s head. “He’ll live.”

  Wrenching Whitey’s arms behind his back, he snapped the handcuffs around his wrists before gesturing to the other two men. “Reckon you can get him down without dropping him?”

  One of the men flashed a grin at Morgan. “Aww, do I have to, Boss?”

  Morgan laughed. The tension, for the moment, drained from his body. “Much as I’d like to tell you to drop the son of a bitch on his head, I think you’d better do as Roy says.”

  Wrapping his arm around Gili’s shoulder, he pulled her close to his side. “Let’s get down there and see what the boys have done with Jeremy.”

  Piri, clinging to Morgan’s neck, threw out a clenched fist in a mock punch. “Bet they don’t hit as hard as Missy Gili,” he said.

  Morgan grinned at Piri’s comment and glanced again at Whitey disappearing over the edge of the rock shelf before turning to Gili. “You okay to climb down on your own?”

  “How about I see Missy Gili down and you look after Piri?” Roy interrupted.

  “You okay with that?”

  At her nod, Morgan urged Piri to climb onto his back and wrap his arms about Morgan’s neck and his legs about his waist. Then he pulled Gili close and gently dropped a fleeting kiss on her mouth, mindful of
her split lip. “Remind me not to piss you off any time soon. I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that right hook of yours.”

  Gili was grateful Roy had decided to climb down before her. She was unbearably tired, the energy and power she’d had before having drained away. Her legs felt like quivering strands of spaghetti and her hands had a tendency to shake.

  Well, procrastinating about it wasn’t going to get her down from this ledge so she may as well just get on with it. She slid the Dreamtime Fire stone under her top and pulled the fabric as tight as she could around her waist. Then she tied a knot in the material and tucked the bottom of her top up so it formed a sling to hold the opal.

  That done, she followed Roy over the edge of the rocky shelf. Closing her mind to the yelling that filtered up from the floor of the cavern, she concentrated on finding her way down.

  She made it the first few feet and then struggled to find a convenient niche in which to wedge the toe of her boot. Roy’s hand wrapped about her ankle and positioned her foot before he moved down to allow her room to manoeuvre herself into position to continue the descent.

  By the time she reached the bottom, she was worn out. Her breathing was harsh and sweat coated her forehead. After wiping her face on her arm, she grinned at the police sergeant. “Thanks. I have to say, it was easier going up than coming down.”

  “No problems, Missy Gili.”

  Morgan, Piri still clinging to his back, appeared beside her. He reached out and cupped his hand around the nape of her neck. “You okay?”

  She gave him a quick grin and nodded. “Just how I wanted to spend a nice summer day in Australia.”

  With an answering grin, Morgan bend down so Piri could climb off. He pointed to the entrance, a serious look on his face. “Piri, I want you to go over there and stay with the constables. You are not to move for any reason, you hear me?”

  All little boy now, the wise man buried for the moment, Piri nodded and ran off to join the two constables holding Whitey prisoner.

  Morgan turned back to Gili, but before he could say anything, the chanting of the spirits filled the cavern with sound. It rose and fell, as if it was the heartbeat of the mine. A beat that entered the body and drove fire through the blood.

  Gili closed her eyes and tuned in to the rhythm. Warmth filled her chest, accompanied by an excited fluttering as the Aboriginal spirit inside her flexed her limbs.

  Your time, Gili lubra.

  The words reverberated in her brain. Power and energy pulsed through her, filling her to overflowing again. The lights of the opal flashed around the cave, the oscillations faster now, until each color blended with the other, lighting up the area with their brilliance. Overhead, misty forms floated and swirled, dipping and swaying with the music of the didgeridoo.

  As strange as it seemed, Gili felt totally comfortable. She revelled in the sense of belonging it gave her until a strident voice pulled her from the magic of the moment.

  “Get back or I’ll shoot. I want that opal and I don’t care who has to die for it.”

  Jeremy.

  Red-hot anger zapped through her body. Teeth clenched, jaw tight, she faced the fire pit in the centre of the cavern. The Dreamtime Fire warm against her stomach, she moved to face her nemesis.

  “No, stay back. He’s got a gun. Let me deal with him.” Roy reached out and grabbed Gili’s shoulder.

  She ignored his warning. This was all down to her now. Shaking off Roy’s hand, she moved to the opposite side of the fire pit, aware of Morgan’s presence mere feet behind her. It was as it should be. This was his destiny, too.

  Jeremy hadn’t spotted her yet. He crouched on the other side of the ring of rocks, his back to her. He had his arms extended in front of him, pointing at the group of men from Morgan’s station. In his hands was a small black gun.

  “Stay back or I’ll shoot.” His hands shook and he twisted his body from one side to the other, trying to face all the men at once.

  Gili frowned. That didn’t sound like Jeremy at all. Although the words came out of his mouth, the voice was deeper, a gravelly rasp that was at odds with Jeremy’s normally cultured tones.

  Ignoring the gun, she waited until he turned towards her so she could see his face. He had the same wavering outline that Whitey had, only much more pronounced. The skin on his face darkened and another image superimposed itself over his.

  She dropped her gaze to the hand holding the weapon to stare at the seal ring. The stone glowed blood-red, projecting an evil so strong it rushed at Gili like waves of energy. She gagged and swallowed hard, sweat breaking out on her body. Any other time she might have marveled about the legend of the ring being true. But not today. And not here.

  The spirit inside Gili stirred. The opal resting against her stomach heated up, fiery-red color leaching through her top. Power surged, and Gili lifted one hand and pointed at Jeremy.

  “Jeremy Grissom, you will attend me. This is not your place and the Dreamtime Fire is not for you. Leave now before harm comes to you.”

  The commands echoed through the cavern. Two voices perfectly blended into one, the intonations that of the Aboriginal people. More formal speech than Gili had ever used in her everyday life.

  Jeremy jumped to his feet as he noticed Gili for the first time. His mouth dropped open. He snapped it closed, anger blazing in his eyes as he trained the gun on her.

  “You! This is all your fault,” he boomed, his voice amplified by the being that possessed him. “If you’d found the opal when I told you to, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

  The men from the station inched closer. The slight scuffing of their boots on the rough floor of the cave had Jeremy spinning back towards them. He held the gun out and swept it around to point first at the men and then at Gili. “Stay back or I’ll shoot.”

  Spittle sprayed from his mouth. The skin on his face grew darker. Even from the other side of the fire pit Gili could see the pulsing of a thick vein on his forehead. Without saying a word, she waved the men back, hoping they’d take notice of her unspoken order.

  Jeremy edged around the fire pit until he stood at a ninety-degree angle to Gili. That way he could cover both her and the men without having to twist about.

  “Put the gun down, Jeremy.”

  He laughed, the sound edged with hysteria. “Are you kidding, woman? You think I’m going to let them take me?” He gestured with the weapon at the men.

  “This isn’t you, Jeremy. I know we’ve had our problems, but you’re not a murderer.”

  “I want that stone. I need the fire element.”

  “Jeremy—”

  “Give me the stone,” he screamed.

  Gili shook her head. “Listen to me. It’s the spirit trapped in that ring that’s causing all this. Jeremy, take the ring off and throw it away.”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed the gun directly at her chest. His face contorted in a grimace. His breathing grew ragged. His finger tightened on the trigger.

  You can’t reach him, Gili. He isn’t listening.

  She shook her head. She may not like the man—in fact, she downright detested him—but she didn’t wish harm on him.

  A voice whispered in her mind. She closed her eyes to listen. When she opened them, the heat from the opal had increased. The front of her top where it nestled bled red and so, too, did her hands, the color outlining the tip of each finger.

  She pointed at the fire pit with her right hand. A flash of vibrant red erupted like the beam of a laser. Fire burst to life in the centre of the ring of stones. It flared a foot high before settling down, smoke wafting up from the now-glowing fire.

  Gili felt the heat of the coals on her skin, but no hotter than the opal resting against her stomach. The white smoke rose, drifting in the still air, until it mingled with the misty spirits hovering above.

  As if that was the signal they’d been waiting for, the phantoms of the old people snaked down, twining through the smoke. With each pass they gained greater defini
tion, becoming more solid and substantial. Then they turned as one and launched themselves at Jeremy.

  Jeremy panicked, flailing at the spectres. As each one flicked past his face, twisted about his head, he tried to slap it away, the gun still firmly clutched in his hand. It did no good. The spirits continued to harass him, their voices rising in a collective hiss.

  “Get them away from me.” Jeremy crouched, body shaking, hand trembling as he waved the weapon around. “Oh God, stop them.”

  His fingers showed white on the grip of the weapon and Gili knew without a doubt what was about to happen. The explosion of sound as Jeremy pulled the trigger echoed through the cave and made Gili’s ears ring. Before she could draw breath, Morgan tumbled her to the ground, covering her body with his. Vaguely, she heard Roy screaming at the men to get down.

  It all happened so quickly, and for a second, Gili had trouble processing the pinging sound that reverberated through the cavern. Then her brain kicked into gear and she knew the bullet had ricocheted off the ironstone in the roof of the cave. It spent itself about six feet from the entrance, as evidenced by the puff of red dust that erupted from the floor of the cave.

  Gili lifted her head and checked that none of the men were hurt.

  “Stay down,” Morgan whispered, his warm breath wafting across her ear and causing a surge of emotion to cascade through her.

  She ignored the rush of hormones and used her arms to push upward. “No, it’s my time. The spirits have spoken.”

  Morgan rolled off her and Gili sprang to her feet, hands held out to Jeremy. He was still crouched on his knees. Now he gripped the weapon with one hand and the other he extended to her.

  Gili remembered the vision she’d had at the hotel. Guided by the spirit of the Aboriginal woman who resided within, she pointed her finger at Jeremy.

  “It’s over. The old ones have spoken. You have been judged and found wanting.”

  A beam of fire shot from her finger. The gun in Jeremy’s hand suddenly glowed red. He screamed and dropped it. The dark outline around him shimmered, the edges becoming indistinct. With an unearthly roar, the spirit separated from Jeremy and stood behind him, solid black, in the shape of a man. The face morphed and took on recognizable human features.