“Yes.”
He pointed at the alphadyte. “This one’s wearing a black one. The others wore brown. And see here.” He ran his finger along a series of notches cut into the band. “Those are kills. This guy was accomplished.”
“Good deduction, Sherlock.”
“Well, I am a detective, you know?” He eased his shoulder under Tony’s arm and the two started away. I noticed Tony favoring his ankle even more.
I turned to Ursula. “You okay?”
She brushed her cheek with the back of her hand and blew the bangs from her eyes. “Aye. `Tis all in a day’s work.”
“How `bout you, Kermit?”
Jerome thumped his chest with his fist. “Kermit good. Malodyte dead.”
“Yeah.” I reached down and gave the squirt a pat on the head. “Malodyte dead. You did all right, kid.”
The three of us turned and started after Carlos and Tony.
Chapter Twenty-one
The clearing surrounding the fortress turned out to be just a stone’s throw from where we killed monkey ass. Now, only a few hundred yards separated us from Doctor Lowell.
As I observed during our flyover, the fortress, or castle as Carlos insisted we call it, seemed a bit modest, even by medieval standards. Still, with thirty-foot high walls, guard towers on each corner and a genuine mote to contend with, I knew we’d have our work cut out for us.
From a hunkered down position just inside the tree line, we hatched our plan.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” said Tony. “You got a thousand feet separating the two guard towers overlooking the field. The switch grass here is about a meter high. It should provide good cover. The barrel fires they got burning up in each tower ought to blind them somewhat to what’s going on down below. If we stay low all the way to the drawbridge, I think we can make it without anyone seeing us.”
“Good plan,” said Carlos. “Then what?”
Tony looked at me. I knew he had nothing. “Then we go from there.”
“Okay. Works for me.”
We headed out across the field, the first half in a duck walk, the rest of the way on our hands and knees.
As Tony predicted, the tall switch grass proved most advantageous, and the relative darkness, despite the orange cracks of light streaking through the sky, made our crossing quick and easy. Once we reached the other side, we scooted one-by-one through a patch of open dirt and then slipped beneath the drawbridge.
“There,” said Tony. “That was simple.”
“Yeah, maybe too simple,” Carlos replied.
“What does that mean?”
“It means what if Lowell heard all the commotion from the explosions. First that, and now his top dog doesn’t return?”
“He’s right,” I said. “He may be expecting us, luring us into a trap.”
“Let him lure,” said Tony. “We’ve come this far. We’re not turning back.”
“I know that, but we can’t go busting in like bulls in a china shop. We have to go stealthy.”
“I can be stealthy,” said Carlos.
I shook my head. “No, you can’t. You’re the consummate bull.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Tony and I have to go this alone.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re witches. We can employ magick to evade capture.”
“I can do magick. You saw me drag fire with just a point of my finger.”
“Yeah? Do some magick now.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. Show me what you can do and we’ll let you come with us.”
He scoffed and looked away. “Don’t really feel like it right now.”
“Hmm, that’s what I thought.”
“What be thy wish for me?’ asked Ursula.
I looked at Tony. He gave me the high brow to shut that thought down fast. “Yeah, see Ursula. Here’s the thing, baby. No.”
Tony said to Carlos and Ursula, “Listen. We need you two out here. You’re going to be our lookouts. If you see anything out of the ordinary, I want you to scream, whistle, make whatever noise you can and then get the hell out of here. I hope that the distraction you cause will afford us the opportunity to escape undetected. Can you do that?”
“I can do that,” Carlos answered.
“Ursula?”
“Aye, if it be thy wish.”
“Jerome?”
“No! I go witchew!”
“You can’t. You don’t––”
“Whoa!” I said. “Where’d he go?”
Carlos poked the space where Jerome had just been sitting. “He didn’t go anywhere. He’s still here.”
“That sneaky little no-see-um. He’s camouflaged.
Tony sighed. “Unbelievable.”
Jerome popped back in. “I go now?”
I looked at Tony. “Can’t say that’s not magick.”
“Fine. He can go.”
With Carlos in a pout, Tony, Jerome and I swam across the mote and emerged on high ground beneath a sprawling Blackwood tree. Tony calculated the top of the tree at twenty-eight feet, the wall at thirty.
“Think we can do it?”
“You know the top three feet of that tree can’t support us,” I said. “That’s a five foot deficit.”
“So it’s a yes?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” He turned to Jerome. “The lightest one goes first. If you need help, I’ll––”
Before he could finish, Jerome shimmied up the tree and disappeared over the wall. We both stood there, dazzled, blinking up at the tiny bits of tree bark floating down in his wake.
“Wow,” I said.
“Yup, wow.”
“Fucker’s quick, eh?”
“Yeah, he’s quick. Gotta give him that.”
I was still looking up when Tony nudged me. “Come on. You’re next.”
I climbed up on the first branch, stopped and looked down. “Wait. What about your ankle?”
“It’s fine.”
“Can you climb a tree?”
“You’re just now asking?”
“I’m just now thinking about it.”
He reached up, palmed my butt and gave me a push. “Get up there.”
I climbed to the highest branch I could before the tree began to bend and sway under my weight. There wasn’t much of a breeze, which made me worry that the guards would notice something was up. I considered backing down, but Tony was right there, his extra weight on the upper part of the trunk likely compounding the problem.
“Tony, back up. The two of us are too heavy for the branch.”
“No we’re not. Go on. You’re almost there.”
“I’m telling you. It’s going to––”
“Uh-oh. What was that?”
“It’s the branch, cracking. I told you so!”
“Pssst!”
I looked up and spotted Jerome reaching for me. I grabbed his hand and managed to scoot up and over the wall in an acrobatic flip.
A second crack cropped the top section of trunk in a ninety-degree fold slightly below Tony’s chest. It snapped off under its weight, inciting a riot of snapping branches and twigs as it toppled to the ground. I honestly expected someone would come to investigate. No one did.
I called to Tony in a whispered shout. “Take my hand!”
It was no use. He was up as high he could go. Even bent at the waist, my stomach flat against the ledge, my reach was still four feet shy of his fingertips.
I thought he would have to climb back down, maybe find another tree or even give up entirely. After getting so close, I couldn’t bear that thought.
Then Jerome, in his never-ending bag of tricks, surprised us again. He ran up my back, shimmied down my arms, grabbed onto my wrists and hung his feet down into the tree. Tony knew exactly what to do. He reached for Jerome and used him as a bridge, hoisting himself up and over the wall.
Seconds later, we heard the heavy thump of footsteps coming up the stairs to the
catwalk.
“Quick,” I whispered, “you remember the cloaking spell?”
“Already on it.”
He wasn’t invisible to me, but I knew the spell worked because Jerome acted like he couldn’t see us. He could hear us, though.
“Jerome.” I nudged him. “Camouflage.”
He faded against the stone wall and disappeared. I reached out and fumbled for him until I felt his bony shoulder.
“Give me your hand.”
He reached up and took it, wrapping his soft suction-cupped tips around my palm.
We held our breaths as a lone soldier boarded the catwalk and started towards us. I squeezed Jerome’s hand a little harder and pulled him in tighter to the wall.
In a stroke of bad luck, or good, depending on how you look at it, the soldier stopped within a few feet of us and lit a cigarette.
Tony nudged me to get my attention. He held his hands out, fingers splayed, motioning a push. He then gestured a three count on his fingers. I nodded that I understood. One less soldier was just fine with me.
On his mark, we circled in behind the guard. I grabbed his right leg, Tony his left. Jerome, not wanting to be left out, grabbed the soldier’s right shoe. In one swift move, we hoisted him off the catwalk and flipped him over the wall. There was no scuffle, no scream piercing the night, just a sickening thud from the impact below.
“Come on.” Tony took my hand and ushered us down the stairs. “Stay cloaked for as long as you can.”
For Tony and me, that was easy, but Jerome had a tougher job at it. If I wasn’t so scared, I might have thought it hilarious, watching him riffle through shades of grey, brown, charcoal and every other color along the path we ran.
It must have worked, though. In our brief flight, we passed no less than six guards, a dog, a cat and an old woman I thought was dead, and maybe was, but she looked good for a gal with a spear through her head.
We ducked into a passageway that led to an underground chamber. Although it was dark, we elected not to light the lantern we found by the door. Instead, we employed the dark sight spell.
“Aren’t you glad I had you practice this spell?” I asked Tony
“Yes Lilith, I’m glad I let you ride my ass about it.”
“That’s not what I said. You know if it weren’t for me encouraging you––”
“Pushing me.”
“Encouraging you to practice witchcraft, you might be dead right now.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Seriously, Tony. Do you realize that since you’ve been here, you’ve made yourself invisible, you’ve mastered the art of zip ball making, you’ve performed the dark sight spell and now––”
“I’ve been doing those things since our first year together.”
“Na-uh.”
“Yeah-huh. The first time I got into your pants was after I opened up a whisper box on you.”
“It wasn’t the spell, Tony. I let you do me because I thought you had waited long enough.”
“No. It was because of the spell.”
“That’s not true. Nobody gets in my pants without my say so.”
“All right. Whatever.”
“No. Not whatever. I mean it. Nobody.”
“Okay. Nobody.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Fine.”
“I mean it. If you don’t ever want a piece of this again in your lifetime, then you’ll––”
“Look!”
We stopped. The chamber dead-ended in a roundabout, facing three wooden doors. In the center of the roundabout sat a three-legged stool with a lone kerosene lamp. We lit the lamp. Actually, Tony lit the lamp using witchcraft.
“See that,” I said. “More witchcraft.”
“Lilith. Don’t start.” He held the lantern up to the first door. A single skeleton key hung on a hook where a doorknocker might be. “What do you think? Should we open it?”
“Are you insane? You never pick the first door.”
“Oh really? Is that in the Grimoire?”
“Hey, you’d be surprised what’s in the Grimoire. You should read it sometime.”
“I’ve tried reading it. I can’t make heads or tails of the damn thing.”
“First, it’s not a damn thing, and secondly, you can’t read it because you need a witch’s key to properly decipher it.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t whatever. See, this is what I mean.”
“Lilith, we can argue later. Just pick a door.”
“Fine.” I pointed at the middle door. “This one.”
“That one? Door number two? Are you insane? You never pick the second door.”
“Why?”
“No reason. Just seeing how you like it.”
I might have slugged him. I was that pissed. Thankfully, Jerome, who had materialized back to his natural green, stepped between us and pointed to door number three. “Jerome pick this one.”
We both looked at him. He seemed determined, his arm straight, his finger rigid. He was like the kid we never had. It made me glad we never had kids.
“That one?” asked Tony.
“That one. I pick.”
Tony and I looked at each other. I pointed to number three. “Guess it’s that one.”
“All right, here.” He handed me the lantern, removed the key from the hook and slipped it into the lock. He turned the key. The mechanism clicked. The key went around and another series of clicks followed. He removed the key. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh, what?”
“What if instead of unlocking it, I just locked it?”
“You ass!”
I plowed my shoulder into his side and drove him against the wall. I grabbed the doorknob, gave it a twist and pushed it open.
“Leona?”
Chapter Twenty-two
The door opened to an oval shaped room the size of a single car garage. A stone fireplace carved in gothic reliefs dominated the far end. Next to that sat an oak roll top desk and chair. The chair leg closest to the fireplace had broken off. A metal pail served as a surrogate.
Opposite the desk stood a freestanding dressing mirror, hazed by candle soot and ash. It sat skewed to the left and angled slightly upward.
Across the room and closest to the door sat a four-posted canopy bed. The linen seemed oddly fresh and colorful, the pillows clean and fluffy. I saw a young woman there, her hair long and black like mine, her slender figure accentuated by soft edges and supple curves.
She slept on her side with her back toward us, her body on the blankets rather than under them. Her arms and shoulders were bare to the cold, as were her feet, inviting the lazy silhouette of firelight nymphs to dance in the glow of her cool mocha skin.
Her nightgown, long and flowing, caressed her hip and thigh, molded to her curves and thinly veiled the delicate lines of her silken panties below.
I couldn’t see her face, but I knew that in my heart we had found her. I called her name again.
“Leona?”
The woman awoke and stretched, unfurling her limbs like a flower as she rolled onto her back. She seemed unsure of what woke her, as if hearing my voice had come to her in a dream.
She turned her head, and a mutual moment of recognition overwhelmed us both.
“Ay, Dios mío!” she gasped. “Do I believe my eyes? Lilith? Is that you?”
“Leona!” I reached out to receive her. “My little Guatemalan darlin`. Come here you.”
Tony pushed me through the doorway and made his entrance. “She’s Honduran, Lilith. How many times do I have to tell you?”
Leona cried, “Detective! Mí salvador valente!”
She sprang from the bed and ran to Tony, throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms and legs around his body like a clinging vine. I stepped back and watched, as she wept, mixing tears of joy with timid bursts of laughter.
Tony held her tightly, nesting his face in the down of her long black hair. I saw how he comforted her, rocking her gently, sway
ing and soothing her with soft baritone coos and the occasional shish.
It reminded me of another such meeting they had under similar circumstances. It was in the basement of the research center. She was younger then, just a child in a woman’s body. He held her now in that same way, her tears melting in trails down the back of his broad, muscular shoulders. She sighed at the tenderness of his touch, the compassion of his embrace, his steely arms around her body, his rugged hands cupping her... Ass?
“All right. That’s it!” I said. “Break it up. Don’t make me break out the fire hose.”
I pried Tony’s arms open and pushed on Leona’s legs until her feet touched the floor. She stepped back, tugging the wrinkles from her nightgown and straightening her hair.
“Lilith.” She tried to hug me, but I palmed her shoulders and eased her back. “You have come to save me, yes?”
“No, dear.” I swept my thumb across her cheek to brush away a tear. “We came here for a quick bite and a movie.”
“¿Perdón?”
“Yes,” said Tony. “We’ve come to save you. Where are your clothes?”
She splayed her arms angelically. “I have only what you see.”
“Yeah, and we see plenty,” I said, gesturing at her breasts through her flimsy gown. “Come on. We have to hurry.”
I grabbed her hand and started for the door. She took barely a step when she noticed Jerome standing out in the hall. “No!” She pulled away. “Es el diablo!”
“What him?” I pointed at Jerome. “No, baby, he’s all right. He’s a Democrat. They all look like that.”
Tony said, “Lilith.”
“All right, fine. He’s Republican.”
“Stop that.”
“Well, it’s hard to tell the difference sometimes, you know. They all look like the devil to me.”
“Leona.” Tony put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the door again. “This is Jerome. He’s our friend. He’s helped us out many times.”
Jerome looked up at her as she stepped into the hall. “Jerome friend?”
She smiled warmly, reached out and shook his hand. “Sí, friend.”
I joined them. “Okay, we’re all friends, that’s nice. Let’s break it up now. We gotta move.”
Tony took the lantern. “I’ll lead. The rest of you stay behind me.”
8 Gone is the Witch Page 26