The Spirit Watcher

by Cory Barclay

  When they reached the outer edge of the woods, Steve glanced to the right and saw the gate was at least fifty yards away. They’d made a good shortcut, unknowingly. Steve felt confident they could escape this place without being seen. The wall in front of them wasn’t very tall—less than ten feet high.

  Steve dropped the candelabrum and sped to the gate. Aiden followed, then crouched and put his palms on top of each other, giving Steve a footrest. Steve jumped and Aiden pushed upward simultaneously. Steve shot into the sky. He grabbed the top of the wall and pulled himself over. Resting on the rampart, he knew he was vulnerable. All the blackguards had to do was look left and they’d see him clear as day.

  Steve crawled on his stomach, then turned and extended his hand down. Aiden first passed up the candelabrum. Then he used the bottom of the wall as a launching off point and grabbed Steve’s hand. Steve heaved and immediately felt how his lack of exercising over the last year affected him. His arm burned as Aiden struggled to grab the side of the wall.

  Aiden almost inadvertently pulled Steve back over the wall. The smaller man managed to squirm and grab hold of the top. He pulled himself over and thirty seconds later they were both on the other side of the estate.

  Steve thought, If those were Border Patrol agents, they’d be fired.

  They ran out from the estate, feeling slightly giddy at their masterful escape.

  “Where do we go now?” Aiden asked.

  “South.”

  “What’s there?”

  “Everything we know and love,” Steve said. Aiden gave him an unconvinced look. Steve added, “less blackguards, your house, Scarlet, Dale, and Shepherd.”

  “Right.” Aiden said it like he’d forgotten there were people they were supposed to be meeting.

  They were in the Mythicus equivalent of Laguna Hills. Once they were out of eyesight from the gate, they merged onto a road that headed south. Woods dotted the hills on either side of the road.

  “Let’s stick to the trees,” Steve said, “in case we see any blackguards patrolling the road.”

  Aiden concurred.

  Once sufficiently hidden in the trees, they stopped running. Both of them panted, out of breath and out of shape. They kept the road nearby, about twenty feet from where they walked. It was far enough away so no one on the road could see them, but close enough so they could keep their bearings.

  They moved parallel to the road, pushing past the trees. It was hot inside the woods, as the canopies of the trees didn’t allow much wind to pass through. They both slapped mosquitoes sucking their blood. Better than vampires, I guess, Steve thought, slapping his own shoulder. He was trying to make light of the situation, but his heart was still beating hard in his chest.

  About ten minutes into their southerly sojourn, they both froze.

  A leaf crackled in the distance, echoing through the woods. It didn’t come from beneath either of their feet.

  Steve was afraid to turn around. They both looked at each other, wide-eyed, unsure what to do. Without needing to converse, their options were clear. Either make a run for it and give their position away, or try to hide.

  They chose the latter, finding a nearby tree trunk that was a bit wider than the rest. They both comically tried to hide behind it. In effect, the trunk hid neither of them. They waited for whatever was behind them to show itself.

  Though the sun was waning, it was still daytime. Otherwise, Steve would have been scared shitless. Even so, his hands trembled. He white-knuckled the candelabrum as another leaf crunched in the distance, closer this time.

  Then they could hear the soft pitter-patter of footsteps.

  When the pursuer was about ten feet away, Steve leaped out from the tree with his candelabrum raised high.

  “Ahh!” a voice screamed.

  Steve saw a flash of blue before he could bring his weapon down. A look of recognition passed over his face.

  Charlene had her hands up in a protective stance, trying to hide her face from a metallic destruction.

  “Jesus, it’s you!” Steve said, still shaking. His adrenaline was ramped up.

  Charlene let her hands fall as she recognized Steve and Aiden. She said, “I’m not Jesus.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t even believe in him.”

  “What are you doing here?” Steve lowered his weaponized candlestick.

  It appeared they were talking in two different conversations. Aiden tried to steer the ship in the right direction. “Who is this?” he asked Steve.

  “This is Charlene, from Balboa Park.”

  Aiden raised an orange eyebrow. “I recognize you from the Casbah.”

  “She also Seared our friends,” Steve said.

  Aiden gave the girl a once over. “I hadn’t realized you . . . have blue hair.”

  Charlene put her arms over her chest. “And you’re Irish. Quite the eagle eye you have.”

  “What on God’s green earth are you doing here?” Steve asked. “Last time I saw you, you were over a hundred miles from this place.”

  “So were you, Steve Remington,” Charlene replied.

  A moment of silence passed over them. Steve slapped the top of his hand as another mosquito molested him.

  “You have business here, lass?” Aiden asked.

  Charlene gulped and a frightened expression came over her. She suddenly seemed quite young and vulnerable, like a teen that’d been rejected by her crush for the first time. Steve felt bad for the poor girl.

  “I . . . did,” Charlene replied, her voice breaking with sorrow. She lowered her head.

  “What happened?” Steve asked. When he took a step toward the girl, she instinctively took a step back.

  Tears welled in Charlene’s eyes. She tried to speak but couldn’t get the words out. She sniffled, then tried again. “Nersi is dead!”

  Steve lurched. “What are you talking about?”

  “I-I came here to support her. I didn’t know her plans. Or maybe I did and just didn’t want to believe it . . .”

  Aiden said, “The good looking lass from the Casbah?”

  Steve and Charlene nodded in unison.

  Aiden frowned. “She will be missed. Especially her music.”

  “What happened, Charlene?” Steve asked.

  “She was the main spectacle at the wedding ceremony. Then she tried to kill the Overseer and—”

  Steve put his hand up, stopping her. “She tried to kill the Overseer?” He felt his heart sink. As much as he disliked his father, this was not welcome news.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Did she succeed?”

  “I don’t know. He was bleeding from his neck and I was petrified! Then a flaming monster came out of nowhere and burned her to a crisp!”

  Aiden and Steve shared a look.

  “Jareth,” Steve said, remembering the time when Barns had been subjected to the Ifrit’s same fiery punishment.

  Charlene ignored Steve and continued. “I was about to leave, before they noticed me, but then I saw something else was happening.”

  “What?”

  Something whipped through the wind, like a loud breeze.

  “The monster turned into a naked man and put his hand on the Overseer’s neck and . . . and . . .” Charlene stuttered as she tried to finish her sentence.

  Abruptly, she tensed and screwed up her face. Her eyes looked distant and faraway.

  “Charlene?” Steve asked worriedly.

  Charlene made a choking sound and Steve backpedaled.

  When Charlene opened her mouth and gurgled, Steve gasped. Blood seeped out of her mouth, down her chin. Her wild eyes grew larger as she realized something was terribly wrong.

  Charlene slowly turned around.

  That’s when Steve saw it—an arrow sticking from her upper back.

  “Fuck!” Steve cried. He peered over Charlene’s shoulder and saw black-garbed men in the distance. They snaked their way through the trees.

  “There t
hey are!” one of the blackguards yelled, his voice carrying over the quietness of the woods.

  “Run!” Aiden cried.

  Steve and Charlene both turned to follow the leprechaun. As soon as they did, another arrow whistled through the air. It caught Charlene in the back of the neck and she went down face-first. The arrowhead protruded from her throat.

  Steve glanced over his shoulder as he ran. Charlene’s blue hair fluttered in the breeze as they distanced themselves from the Myth Maker. She wasn’t moving.

  Steve’s adrenaline drove him on. He and Aiden zigzagged around trees, separating from each other. They headed in the same southerly direction.

  An arrow whizzed past Steve and stuck in a tree trunk next to him. He hurtled past the tree and his heart beat in his throat.

  This is it! This is how I die!

  He almost tripped numerous times over outstretched roots and branches. Still, he kept running.

  Another arrow passed harmlessly to his side. He chanced another look behind him and saw the blackguards weren’t gaining on them. There were at least six of them—moving, pausing, shooting. Moving, pausing, shooting. Their modus operandi was predictable and slowed them down.

  Eventually, they gave up the arrows as Steve and Aiden added distance.

  The blackguards were skilled in all types of terrain and they quickly gained on their prey.

  Steve felt his legs losing strength. He couldn’t sprint for much longer. Not on this soft dirt.

  He eyed the road and beelined for it. No point in hiding now. It would be easier to run on flat, hard cement.

  A roar reverberated through the woods, bouncing off the trees and billowing into the sky. Birds cawed and soared off their perches en masse, clouding the canopies.

  Steve stutter-stepped and almost fell. He scanned the woods before he reached the road and saw Aiden far off, deeper in the woods, still running. The leprechaun was also slowing down at the sound of the ominous roar.

  Steve dared to look behind him one more time, worried he’d catch an arrow in the throat like poor Charlene . . .

  Fifty feet in front of him, a large figure tore through the woods and blasted through the trees. Branches broke from his savagery, a cloud of dirt kicking up behind him.

  The blackguards were yelling at each other, moving around chaotically. They formed up as the figure charged through the trees, heading right for them.

  It looked like a bear or a gorilla.

  His eyes glued to the scene, Steve stopped moving.

  The large figure reached the blackguards and tossed one of the soldiers impossibly high. The blackguard never came down, finding himself stuck on the side of a tree, his cloak caught in a thick branch. He struggled to remove his cloak but it tugged and tightened around his neck. It choked him like a noose as his legs waggled.

  Another blackguard stabbed the large figure with a spear. The creature didn’t register or recognize the pain. Instead, it backhanded its huge gorilla fist and caught the blackguard on the jaw. His neck snapped and Steve recoiled as he heard the unsettling sound carry over the wind.

  The blackguards were screaming their own words now, but more in fright than anything else.

  A flurry of short whizzing sounds caught the air.

  The rest of the blackguards dropped, their bodies filled with arrows, like pincushions.

  Steve exhaled. He’d been holding his breath the whole time, confused and angry. His legs started taking him toward the mayhem, even though his brain told him the street was five feet away. He could maybe outrun whatever it was that had ravaged those blackguards.

  All he needed to do was make it there . . .

  But he was too curious. Or stupid.

  Furrowing his brow, he stepped forward.

  Bodies appeared from behind the trees like ghosts out of thin air. That gave Steve pause. He felt his knees shaking.

  He squinted to try to see clearer.

  The figures in the trees were ambling toward him.

  Steve’s flight or fight response kicked in again. Every muscle in his body was telling him to flee.

  His heart leaped as he recognized the brown skin of the approaching men and women.

  The Nawao warriors.

  At their rear was Pua Kila, striding to the front to greet Steve.

  Steve looked over his shoulder and saw Aiden was heading toward him. If the leprechaun had not looked back, he’d have been out of sight by now, off into the horizon to save himself.

  Steve couldn’t blame him.

  And what is that giant thing . . . Steve’s thoughts trailed off as the black fur of the giant creature faded away.

  To reveal Geddon. Beside him stood Selestria, handing the big man a cloak to cover himself.

  “What . . . the fuck,” Steve muttered. Geddon was walking toward him with a grin on his face. All Steve wanted to do was swing the stupid candelabrum into his stupid, dumb face.

  “Steve Remington,” Geddon said, his grin disappearing as he neared. “I thought I might never see you again.”

  “I hoped so,” Steve said, frowning. “Do you know what kind of hell you put me through?”

  Geddon had the decency to look ashamed. He averted his gaze until Selestria came up beside him. But Selestria did not defend his actions. Geddon had betrayed Steve to the Brethren of Soreltris and could never be trusted again.

  When Steve saw Pua Kila approach, gratitude showed on his face. But not for Geddon or Selestria—even if Selestria hadn’t played a part in Geddon’s betrayal. Steve’s heartwarming smile was reserved for the Nawao queen.

  “Pua Kila, I’m glad to see you,” he said.

  She nodded formally. “As am I, Koa Steve. It is good to hear your voice without that little goblin man to speak for you.”

  Steve chuckled. The thought of Charlene’s blue hair flashed in his mind and all joviality was lost. Sternly, he said, “What are you all doing here? And why have you teamed up with this . . . man?” He nudged his chin toward Geddon.

  Geddon started. “We’ve come to—”

  He didn’t make it any further than that. Steve’s raised palm stopped him.

  “I asked my friend,” Steve said, a bit childishly.

  Pua Kila said, “As much as you dislike this one, Koa Steve, he helped us get here. We were following the Brethren lords and ladies to the castle, trying to see what was amiss. Then we ran into these two, fleeing the other way.”

  Steve creased his brow.

  “The Myth Hunter,” Pua Kila clarified, motioning to Selestria.

  “Even though you hate me, Steve, the fact remains that we are still Bound,” Geddon said. “That’s how we found you.”

  Steve sighed. He didn’t want to hear Geddon’s voice. But an important question had popped into his head that only Geddon could answer.

  “What if you died?” he asked.

  Geddon was taken aback. “If I were to die, you would be stuck here.”

  Steve nodded and turned. “Then they’re still here,” he said to Aiden, who had approached from behind.

  Aiden looked puzzled.

  “Scarlet, Dale, and Shepherd,” Steve said. “When Charlene died, I thought they might get sent home. But instead they’re . . . stuck here.”

  That was worse, in Steve’s mind. How would he ever get Dale back to Terrus if he never saw the Parallel Reflector again? Scarlet and Shepherd were Mythicus natives, but not Dale.

  Oh well, Steve thought. A problem for another time.

  Steve walked away from the group. He’d had enough conversation for the day. He needed to think.

  Aiden said to Geddon, “Where will you go?”

  “Does it matter?” Geddon asked.

  “As long as you don’t follow us, traitor.” And with that, Aiden fell in step behind Steve.

  “Pua Kila,” Steve called from over his shoulder.

  “Yes, Koa Steve?”

  “Will you lead me to Charles Lee’s burial ground behind the waterfall in the woods?”

  “Y
es,” she said. “But why?”

  “I’ve had an itching desire to speak with the Spirit Watcher. I must find out who she is.”

  It was a sensation he’d been trying to hide ever since he’d been cast out from Lig’s body by that menacing, pointing finger. Steve knew the Spirit Watcher played an important part in whatever was happening here on Mythicus.

  She wasn’t only “watching.”

  He needed to find out her purpose and whose side she was on.

  “When will we meet up with the other three?” Aiden asked Steve as they walked.

  “When we get back to San Diego—er, you know what I mean—you can split off from me if you want. You’ll be close to your house.”

  Geddon called from behind: “If anyone cares, me and Selestria will be at Charles Lee’s house. As we promised we would.” He emphasized the last sentence, as if trying to prove that his word could be trusted.

  Steve knew better than that. He waved the big man away. “No one cares.” Inside, something ate at him. He’d promised Annabel he’d watch over Geddon and Selestria at Constantin’s house.

  I’ll have to do that after this . . .

  Together, Steve, Aiden, Pua Kila, and her ten or so Nawao warriors headed toward Central Soreltris. Night would be upon them before they reached the outskirts of the place.

  It gave Steve plenty of time to think.

  He thought of Nersi’s mesmerizing voice and full, red lips; Charlene’s confidence at such a young age, the blue hair and all the studs in her face.

  He wished he’d known them better.

  But that would make the hurt of losing them that much worse.

  No, he thought, shaking his head. It’s better that I didn’t know them well. It’s best that I put them behind me and move on.

  There are other people I need to save.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Richard Remington paced the small room, chewing on his fingernails. It took three steps in either direction before he faced a wall and had to turn around. He was disgusted, sad, enraged. He hardly had time to feel an emotion before it fluttered away to be replaced by something else. In his own mind, he was still Overseer Malachite.

  It was a cruel joke that the prisoners he’d kept in this very room now roamed free, while he was jailed like a common criminal. It was ironic that an actual murderer like Geddon could walk the world without repercussions, while a man like Richard rotted inside a cage.