He nodded. “If we stay close—”
The mound jolted. Debris flew in every direction.
Gabriel yanked Kerina into a crouch and huddled over her. A heavy piece of wood struck his shoulder and smashed against the side of his head. He grunted, his vision quavering. The ground heaved up directly under them. He struggled for balance before toppling off. Kerina shrieked, clinging on to the rock ledge as the trash heap split apart and rose high.
Gabriel scrambled and kicked against the mountain of trash tumbling down at him, trying to keep his head above the debris.
Moñái burst out from under the mound. The refuse resting on its body was shaken off when its enormous serpent body uncoiled, its scales pitch black but for the two straight, colorful horns over its head. The two horns weaved through the air, like antennae. They quivered as Moñái’s coils unfolded over the trash heap. The creature’s slitted yellow eyes fixed on Kerina.
She stared back at the monster, as if frozen.
Scaled coils slithered closer. Moñái’s tongue tasted the air. Its mouth parted slightly, revealing pearlescent fangs. Its eyes narrowed, glittering in anticipation.
It was going to attack—
But still, Kerina stared, transfixed, unmoving.
Come on, Kerina. Damn it, move!
What the hell was wrong with her?
Gabriel clenched his teeth as he tried to free himself from beneath the quicksand of debris. The muscles in his injured shoulder wrenched as he lifted himself clear of the trash, and the stab of pain turned his vision sickly yellow for an instant.
Except that he didn’t have an instant.
He stared at Moñái—so beautiful…
The sharp clarity of Gabriel’s thoughts flitted away. His eyes fixed on the hypnotic weaving of Moñái’s colorful antennae. The air between them seemed to shimmer, almost humming with a low, resonant bass that smoothed over the anxious, tangled edge of his emotions, lulling him. He staggered closer. If only he could touch it—
He raised his injured arm, then drew in a sharp gasp of air as pain ripped through his torn muscles. The anguish yanked him out of his hypnotized state.
He shook his head sharply as full awareness returned in a powerful, overwhelming rush.
The antennae.
Moñái’s antenna had hypnotized Kerina—the same way it had almost hypnotized him.
Only one thing to do. He had to cut them off.
He glanced around, looking for a weapon other than his spear. The rusty sickle! It was less than a foot away, its curved edge scarcely visible. He grabbed its handle and tested its balance. A grim smile passed over his lips. Perfect.
With his spear in his uninjured hand and the sickle in the other, Gabriel took a few steps back before sprinting forward into a running leap at Moñái. The first lunge through the air carried him halfway up the length of the serpent’s back. Gabriel stabbed his spear into Moñái’s body, then vaulted his weight over it.
Moñái reeled, almost crumpling in upon itself. That, combined with Gabriel’s momentum, landed him on Moñái’s head. He wrapped both his hands around the sickle’s handle and swung it at Moñái’s horns. The rusty but still sharp edge cleaved through the stiffened hairs, slicing the antennae from Moñái’s head.
The monster thrashed in pain. On the rocky ledge, Kerina shuddered, her eyes flaring wide as if jerking out of a dream. Gabriel leapt off Moñái’s head, sprinted across the shifting mountain of trash, and grabbed Kerina’s hand. “Come on, let’s go!”
They raced along the side of the wall as all around them, the world churned. The debris of humanity tossed and tumbled as Moñái writhed. The coils flailed across the trash heap before slowly vanishing as Moñái retreated deep into its burrow beneath the mountain of its spoils.
Only then did Gabriel stop, at the edge of the cavern where the passageway once again narrowed into a tunnel—too narrow for the massive Moñái to pursue them. Safe for the moment, he and Kerina sagged against the wall, breathing hard.
“Are you all right?” He gasped the words out.
Kerina nodded slowly. “Thank you.” She looked him over and frowned, then dug into her pouch. “You’re bleeding.”
He winced as she pressed herbs to the cut on his temple and wrapped a cloth around his injured shoulder to hold his torn muscles in place. “I could do more for you if we had time,” she murmured apologetically. “But it’ll keep you going for now.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. It seemed to him they did that a great deal, taking turns to help each other, save each other. A perfect balance—never broken.
Silent fear niggled in his heart. What would happen to them the day…the moment…the balance broke? Would it change them and force them to move together in an entirely different direction, or would it shatter them and drive them apart?
Chapter 12
The cave tunnel was just wide enough for Kerina to stay at Gabriel’s side; any narrower, and they would need to walk one in front of the other. But although the narrow passage required them to be standing closer to one another than they would have outside of the cave, Kerina still stayed at his side. Something about being there felt right. Safer, but more than that, too. Like she belonged. Like she was his equal. Three feelings she had never felt before meeting him.
As they proceeded cautiously, Gabriel kept leveling his gaze at her, and in his eyes, she saw regret. Her stomach twisted. She’d torn into him about withholding information from her. How hypocritical. If only he knew the irony.
She had done it to push him away. Because she didn’t deserve him; because she hadn’t been honest with him, or at least, had allowed him to mislead himself when she could have told him the truth. She had withheld things from him, just as he had done to her.
Her anger with him was just a projection of her anger at herself. She looked up at him, an apology on the verge of her lips, but really, what good would it do? And the truth was, as guilty as she was of doing the same thing, she was hurt that he hadn’t been open with her. And if he found out she hadn’t been open with him, he would be hurt too.
She couldn’t stand the idea of hurting him. And as he’d pointed out, the truth wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change what needed to be done. It wouldn’t change the danger they were in.
And why work to make things right between them when there was no future for them to embrace together? No, she needed to keep her mouth shut. Stay focused on the task at hand. Whatever might come of their future, right now, it didn’t matter if they didn’t live to have a future to worry about.
So instead of talking about how he’d kept something from her—or how she’d kept something from him—she asked him which of Tua’s children they would face next. Maybe if she knew, they could be more prepared.
“Jasy Jatere,” he told her. “He carries with him a magical staff that he uses to put people to sleep. Usually children.”
“And then?”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow.
“What happens then?” she pressed, looking up into his eyes. “Once they’re asleep.”
Gabriel shrugged, frowning as he turned his gaze to the tunnel ahead of them. “That depends.”
Kerina stopped short. “On what?”
Gabriel froze ahead of her, then slowly turned around. “It depends on which version of the story you believe.” When she didn’t reply, he continued. “In some versions of the story, he plays with them and gives them honey and fruit and then returns them home to their beds with no memory of what happened.”
“So he could set us back to the beginning?” Kerina asked, unable to hide the panic in her voice. They couldn’t have come all this way just to start over again.
“That’s how one version of the story goes,” Gabriel said darkly.
Something about the way he said it gave her a chill. She almost didn’t even want to ask, but she had to know. “And the other version?”
Gabriel started hiking forward again, and Kerina followed.
“Worse,” he said. “Much worse.” Gabriel stopped short again. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear wh—” Before she could even finish the thought, she noticed the strange whistling sound in the distance. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Is that him?”
Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Are you going to tell me the other version of the story?”
Gabriel let out a low groan. “He removes their eyes or brings them to his brother, Ao Ao, who eats their flesh. But that’s only in some versions of the story,” he added quickly.
Kerina tried to refrain from rolling her eyes. Anja wouldn’t approve of such a display of her annoyance, but Anja wasn’t here anymore. It was just Kerina, pretending to hold Anja’s power. “I’m guessing those are the more common versions of the story?”
He’d just told her that the stories so far had been accurate.
When he didn’t answer, she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather like to keep my eyes, and my flesh, too, for that matter.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together, but she could see the smile he was trying to hold back. “Then I guess we better get ready to fight,” he said. He pointed to a plant sprouting up along the edges of the cave. “That’s the yerba mate plant, and that means Jasy Jatere is close.”
Kerina felt as though her feet were made of lead, as though she were frozen in place. There was something worse about knowing it was coming. Something that made her not want to continue forward. Who would plod through death’s door that way?
This seemed a horrible idea.
For a brief moment, she weighed which death might be worse: to have her eyeballs removed and flesh cannibalized, or to die with the world when the world died once and for all. Perhaps death by Jasy Jatere would be quicker. But it didn’t matter much, because it wasn’t just her life on the line. She couldn’t let thousands of people die.
She couldn’t let Gabriel die.
If he did, it would be her fault for letting him count on magic she did not possess.
Her heart ached. Despite the fear trembling through every inch of her body, she walked with Gabriel, still at his side, as he headed deeper into what she knew would be Jasy Jatere’s lair.
As they continued forward, the yerba mate plant seemed to take over more of the floor and walls, scattering across the floor like fallen leaves and growing out of the walls and in their paths like tall, tree-like bushes. It made it hard to see where they were going. The deeper they went, the more the tunnel opened up into a cavern.
As the scent of the plant reached her, she felt powerfully awake. “You know,” she said to Gabriel, “it’s interesting Jasy Jatere puts people to sleep while protecting a plant that wakes people up.”
“Huh?” Gabriel said, his gaze darting to her with eyes open almost comically wide.
Kerina couldn’t help but giggle, but before she could make a quip, a small man with a child-like face, blond hair, and icy blue eyes popped out from behind the bushes like some kind of troll.
He shook his golden cane once in their faces. “You should be sleeping!”
He waved his cane around once more, and as he did, Kerina felt the effects of the yerba mate plant start to wear off. Gabriel’s gaze went half-lidded, which must have meant the little man’s efforts was working better on Gabriel, for whatever reason, because although Kerina didn’t feel quite so pumped anymore, she certainly didn’t feel sleepy.
But when Jasy Jatere looked at her, and she looked at Gabriel, Gabriel winked. Then he “fell asleep,” collapsing to the floor.
Oh. It was an act.
Jasy Jatere’s attention followed Kerina’s gaze to Gabriel, and the little man jumped where he stood. “Yes! Go to sleep!”
As the man got closer to Gabriel, Kerina backed up until her thighs were met with a bush, and she tumbled, falling to the yerba mate plant. Two eyes stared back at her from inside the bush, and she shrieked, jumping back. Then she shrieked again as she realized the eyes in the bush were not alone, and none belonged to any body.
Stolen eyes.
Slowly, she turned back to the scene between Jasy Jatere and Gabriel. Gabriel wasn’t a child. Did that matter? Would the little man still take his eyes if Kerina didn’t do something?
But just as she got ready to lunge for the human-like creature, Gabriel sat up with a roar, pouncing on the little man and pinning him down. The man thwacked Gabriel in the head with his cane. Gabriel winced, but didn’t give up.
Kerina ran over to help. Just as she dove for the little man, he rolled Gabriel’s body and his own between some bushes. She missed the pair, instead crashing into the hard, stone ground of the cave. Pain jolted through her arms, and the scrapes on her forearms and elbows would sure be bleeding before long.
But worse, she’d lost sight of Gabriel.
She sprang to her feet and wove between the bushes, looking for them. As she came between a particularly large set of bushes, her foot slid out onto nothingness. She grabbed the bush, holding on tightly as she pulled herself back onto a ledge she hadn’t known was there. Once she was safe, she looked down as the dirt and stone from her slip fell over the jagged edges of the ledge.
Gritting her teeth, she looked in either direction and found the troll-like man had Gabriel pinned at the edge of the cliff, Gabriel’s head hanging over the ledge. Kerina had to get to him.
She dodged around, trying to figure out which set of yerba mate bushes the two were hidden between. She failed twice before finding them. How was it this little man was so strong? Stronger even than Gabriel, one of the strongest men she had ever met.
Jasy Jatere turned around, waving his cane at her, but she looked past it, not at it. When he said “sleep” it had no effect on her, but she crashed to the ground as though it had worked.
She waited a moment before daring to open her eyes again. The little man’s attention was solely on Gabriel now. He could just push him over the edge, but that didn’t seem to be what he wanted. He didn’t seem to go for Gabriel’s eyes, either.
What did he want?
Kerina pushed herself to her feet, working through the aching muscles in her body and the fog of lethargy taking over her eyes and mind from the creature’s first effort to put her to sleep, and crept closer.
She needed to stop this creature. Just as the creature was about to strike Gabriel with his golden cane, she snatched it from his hands and yanked hard. The staff pried from his fingers. The little man spun around, his expression contorted with anger, but then big tears welled in his eyes.
“Give it back!” he cried, falling to his bottom. “That’s mine!” He started kicking his legs and smacking his hands against the ground as he cried. “You stole it! Give it back!”
Kerina froze, unable to shut her mouth. Was this little old man creature having a tantrum? That was it? He lost his cane and just gave up?
Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he scrambled to his feet. He darted away from the ledge, in front of the hedge of yerba mate bushes. “Give me the cane, Kerina! Quick!”
Without wasting time asking why, she tossed the cane far over Jasy Jatere’s head, into Gabriel’s capable hands.
After storming over to the little man, Gabriel crouched down and glared, holding the cane tightly in his grip.
“You want your cane back?” he asked.
Kerina lunged forward. “Gabriel, no!”
He held his free hand behind him to stop her. “I will handle this, Kerina. Trust me.”
She stopped in her tracks. She supposed that meant she trusted him, even if he hadn’t always told her everything.
Gabriel turned back to Jasy Jatere. “You can have your cane back if you give me one of your most trusted treasures.”
The waterworks the little man was putting on slowed down, then stopped. “Like what?”
“Like, how do we stop your brother, Kurupi?”
Jasy Jatere’s sad face turned humorous. “Stop Kurupi?” He laughed. “That’s what you want in exc
hange for my cane?” He laughed harder.
Kerina’s blood boiled. Gabriel’s whole body seemed to tense, a vein in his neck bulging. She’d had enough. She stepped around Gabriel, facing the little man. “You know what? Maybe we’ll just keep your cane, since you find this so funny.”
Jasy Jatere shook his head. “No, I’ll tell you. But you already have what you need.” He got to his feet and pointed to Kerina. “You.” He looked over her shoulder to Gabriel. “Her. She has what you need. Stoneseed root.”
“Stoneseed root?”
The little man held out his hand. “I told you. Now give me my cane.”
Gabriel glowered, then threw the cane over the ledge. “Go get it.”
Then he stormed off.
Kerina chased behind him, shaking her head. “Why did you do that? We should have kept that cane. We could have used it to—”
“No,” Gabriel said. “We never would have gotten out of here with it. That cane is tied to Jasy Jatere. We would have had to stay with him forever.”
“But won’t he just get it again?”
“That’s why we need to move. Fast.”
Gabriel grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him as he darted between the yerba mate bushes. They were nearly through the cavern and at the mouth of the next tunnel when Jasy Jatere appeared in front of them again, his cane waving in front of their faces.
“No more games,” the little man said, waving his cane much faster than he had the first time. He’d made three complete waves before either of them could look away. “Sleep.”
Gabriel was the first to fall.
Kerina gasped, darting toward him. Her legs slowed, then her knees collapsed. She struggled to keep awake as she shuffled a few inches. Then she fell forward, unconsciousness claiming her.
Chapter 13
Gabriel awoke with a scream of anguish.
He jerked upright. His right eye throbbed with pain, and his vision was hazy. The world wavered around him, shifting in and out of focus. Motion caught his attention. Something small darted away.
Jasy Jatere’s voice, lilting with annoyance and scarcely audible above a rattling sound, drifted back to Gabriel. “Damn siren! Would never have woken if he were human.”
Mage’s Legacy: Cursed Seas Page 11