Lunatic

by Dekker, Ted

Marak slammed the thought back. He was not falling for another condemned, diseased woman! Period!

  "You told me," she said. "It's all right." She went on to tell him about a boy who'd started watching out for her and eventually stopped the abuse by killing her uncle and leaving with her. How they'd fallen in love.

  She told him everything, beginning with the challenge that went out from the Forest Guard to the books to how she'd spent ten years in another world. To her return to a world gone mad.

  "It was like trading one version of hell for another."

  "No wonder you were curled up under that cloak like that." He sighed.

  Darsal managed a smile. "I thought you were gloating." She sniffed and looked down at him. "I see now you were only angry."

  She had no idea how angry he'd been. Heat tinged his face and neck.

  Qurong. Sucrow. A botched albino hunt. Eram's rebellion.

  Jordan's classic obstinacy.

  "I was ready to wring his neck. I was angry with him. With me. With ... everyone." Marak rubbed his temples. "I thought you were an albino spy."

  "Maybe in another lifetime I would have been. But in that one I wouldn't have come into the presence of the mighty general of Qurong."

  He allowed himself a small smile. "So ... why did you come back?"

  She sat with him, leaned against the opposite wall in the hallway, shackles clinking, and told him about her time with her cellmates. How they convinced her to escape. Marak noticed she left out anything that might give him direction to the pool's location.

  Her description of the actual drowning was mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time.

  Darsal came alive. Even in the pale light, her eyes brightened and her whole face took on another dimension. She went up on her knees, using hands and arms and sound effects to demonstrate.

  The tale left Marak a little breathless.

  What amazed him even more was how naive she was.

  Jordan and Marak had both been present when the lakes turned to red, when the beautiful waters were defiled with blood.

  Darsal clearly hadn't.

  Marak knew at least the account, though he didn't believe all the rumors, nor that anything was to be gained by trying to drown oneself in the poisoned water.

  Darsal trailed off. "What?"

  A thought escaped before Marak could rein it in. "You. You are completely different from anyone I have ever met."

  Liar, the inner voice rebuked. You were betrothed to Rona.

  Darsal was so much like Rona ...

  She hesitated. "I'm glad you think that, General. I really am."

  Marak tensed. This wasn't right. If he showed any sympathy toward her at all, he would die with her. That would not happen. He wasn't Jordan. He wasn't throwing his life away.

  Strengthening his resolve, he moved to stand.

  "May I ask you something?"

  The floral and citrus overpowered the smell of her skin.

  He should deny her request.

  Ronas eyes stared back at him.

  "What?"

  "What was between you and Jordan?"

  His heart lurched, his throat constricting. "I will not discuss that." He clenched his teeth and choked down the surge of emotion that swept over him.

  Silence. "I understand."

  "No," he said flatly. "You don't."

  Darsal turned and looked straight into his eyes. "I understand, Marak. More than you realize."

  He shut his mouth. Yes, she had told him all of that, hadn't she? The loss had turned her bitter and spiteful for a decade. Marak could only nod.

  More silence.

  Darsal got up. "Come on. You wanted to bathe, and I've kept you."

  Marak rose more slowly. Then a thought came to mind.

  Rona.

  Sucrow's rituals.

  "Darsal, I need you to hear me on this one thing. Can you do that?"

  She looked up with dark eyes. "Maybe."

  "What happened today can never be repeated, do you understand? Sucrow would love to find a way to kill both of us. I don't play by his rules. I don't ask my men to play by his rules or adhere to his religion. I won't put it past him to spy on us. You have to be careful. If you can't do this, it's over."

  "Marak..."

  "Do this my way, Darsal. Do this my way, and it might not come to that. Can you do that, Darsal? Can you trust a Scab general?"

  "Sucrow would-"

  "Sucrow takes albinos and tortures them, Rona. He does unspeakable things to them on the altar." Marak's jaw tightened.

  Darsal's face went stoic. For a second they froze.

  He'd called her Rona again.

  It wouldn't take her long to put the pieces together. He'd let Sucrow do whatever he wanted to his own lover.

  Sweat beaded on his skin.

  "And Sucrow makes the rules," she said.

  He didn't respond. The unspoken question lingered. Darsal spoke first.

  "Go. I'll mind the house."

  She was gone.

  Marak stared. Only when she had all but vanished around the corner did he snap out of his trance. "Darsal ..." But she was gone.

  He put on his boots and cloak and left with a heavy heart.

  haeda's lingering presence did not easily forgive. The darkness that gripped him now chewed at his flesh and mind like a pack of ravenous jackals, consuming him.

  Do not linger long, my pet ... "

  He couldn't think. The siren song, the overbearing power, the haunting eyes and seductive voice ...

  Each second attempt to overthrow her was met with invisible teeth and claws and oppressive fog. He still had to make the throaters stay behind.

  Thus far the unwanted escort had behaved. The lead serpent warrior would be dead if he touched Silvie again. Really, he was lucky to be breathing now. Only the need for Sucrow's alliance kept the fool alive.

  Pink and red light streamed across the desert. Even this small thing added to what felt like the throbbing in his skull. Johnis wasn't sure how far they'd ridden.

  This was much farther south than he'd been before. And the ever-present serpent warriors only added to his unease. They needed to be rid of the vermin. Soon.

  "Any sign of the canyon?" Silvie asked.

  Shaedas multicolored gaze bore down on him. It allowed him to see the canyon in the west. The desert rippled, shimmered.

  His mind focused.

  "Come here, my johnis .. .

  The entity was allowing her pet a little freedom. And her pet he would remain if he didn't break this noose about his neck once and for all.

  "Obey me, johnisss .. .

  Invisible teeth sank into his neck.

  He could not let her have the amulet. Take the Horde for himself.

  Keep the amulet. Kill the Horde. Lose the Leedhan.

  If he didn't, he would lose himself to the Leedhan. Forever.

  But her power, her eyes ... her strength ...

  "Johnis." Silvie spoke sharply.

  His Leedhan-eye view of the canyon was still before him. He saw nothing else. Shaeda's siren song called to him.

  "No. It's got to be coming up soon. Or we could have missed it"

  "How do twenty-seven people miss a canyon, Johnis?"

  "It's always possible."

  "Are you sure you're all right?"

  "It's ... Shaeda ..." He'd told Silvie what he'd done. They'd been ecstatic until the penalties set in.

  Johnis couldn't eat. He would throw it up.

  He couldn't drink. He couldn't sleep.

  There was the mission and the mission alone.

  The horses slowed to a walk, weary and white-flanked from the night's hard ride. No one had attacked them.

  Still, ambush could happen.

  The Eramites were out there, somewhere.

  He would have to rely on Shaedas power to survive if they attacked.

  "They won't," Warryn assured. "Eram's too afraid of Marak."

  "Not too afraid to defy him," Johnis pointed out. H
e halfignored them and focused on his plan, considering the lethargy that only seemed to leave him be when he did Shaedas bidding.

  Shaeda and the intoxicating power she gave him. Shaeda, his muse to invoke at will, the source of his strength. Part of him could give himself to her, just to keep what she had to offer.

  That had to end. He wouldn't stay on her leash forever.

  No, no. Together they would rid the Horde of their greatest enemy. Rid the world of the Horde with the same Leedhan power.

  And then he would rid himself of the Leedhan.

  "What if Shaeda lied?" Silvie asked. "What if there is no canyon?"

  "You better pray not," Warryn growled.

  Sunlight reflected off his mother's ring, now on his little finger.

  "She didn't lie."

  They rode for another half hour, saddle sore and fatigued. The horses couldn't run, and the riders no longer forced them. The night chill faded like mist, warming the ground and their tired bodies.

  Just as Johnis started to doubt himself, they came up a steep rise.

  Silvie sped up. "Johnis, look!" He did.

  He could see the faint, curving, jagged lip of a canyon breaking the western horizon. The same from Shaeda's vision.

  The teardrop canyon . . . in which lay a million invisible Shataiki.

  CASSAK LAY FLAT ON HIS STOMACH, A WARRIOR ON EITHER side, and stared out through his spyglass over the next rise and set of dunes at the black and purple-robed throaters and the two youths with them.

  Impressive, they'd gotten the drop on Warryn. Amusing watching the pup take down Sucrow's favorite ...

  After Rona and Jordan, Cassak could only sneer. He'd sent a scout back to Marak to tell the general just that. Marak would appreciate the personal note. Oh, by the way ...

  Small favors. Sometimes justice did prevail.

  Cassak already knew the canyon ridge in the distance was the Teardrop. He'd sent four scouts during the night and promised them rewards for finding it before the throaters did. And they had.

  "The scouts saw nothing?"

  "Eram's curious, Captain." A small band of rebels had evidently ventured south to see what their former comrades-in-arms were really up to.

  "He'd laugh his bloody head off if he knew," Cassak muttered.

  Eram already scoffed at the idea of fixating on albinos that fled like startled rabbits into the desert.

  The laugh was a quiet one.

  Thomas Hunter was renowned for his prowess in a fight. The albinos weren't fighting because they couldn't.

  They simply didn't want to.

  "What, lieutenant?" the man on Cassak's other side quipped. "You don't think racing through the desert chasing mythological monsters and bits of driftwood is laughable, do you?"

  "It's embarrassing," Cassak growled. "That's what it is. Now shut up and pay attention. The men are in place? I want a net around this crew. Eram better not be dagger happy today."

  Grown men chasing a legend.

  "Marak's right."

  "About what, sir?"

  "Nothing."

  "I didn't sign up to sit in the desert babysitting throaters."

  "The Eramites are over that rise, Lieutenant," Cassak growled. "See how far you get before I run you through."

  The second silenced himself. Cassak had no time for traitors.

  Their prey had stopped at the lip of the Teardrop Canyon.

  Cassak summoned a major. "Head out. Once they go down, I want this rim covered. Whatever the pup brings out is mine."

  "Alive or dead, sir?"

  Cassak grunted. "Alive, for now."

  JOHNIS CHARGED DOWN THE FAR SIDE OF THE RISE AND galloped southwest toward the lip of the canyon. Horse hooves drummed in his ears. Johnis tucked himself into the horse's neck, gave him full head, and made himself as small as possible.

  Silvie flew past him.

  He kicked the horse's ribs and slapped its flank, urging the beast on. Of course, she was smaller, lighter, and therefore less of a burden.

  He caught up and passed her. Warryn and the throaters were right at his heels, but he no longer cared.

  Let them. They'd stew enough when he made them stay behind. Shaeda wanted it that way. He wanted it that way. They didn't have any business being down there.

  Unless they wanted to be Shataiki food. Or Leedhan, for that matter.

  Now that was a strange thought.

  A few breathless minutes later, Silvie overtook him again. Then they raced neck and neck for about a mile. Another steep rise slowed them. Silvie pulled up first, right at the peak of the rise, and looked down. Johnis jogged after and felt the breath rush out of him.

  Teardrop Canyon.

  "Ye of little faith ... " Shaeda chuckled.

  He was understanding now. Shaeda needed the amulet as badly as he did. Needed to control this particular queen even more than he did.

  She had managed to conceal her reasons why, though.

  But the canyon was here. It was theirs and it was stunning. Red-washed walls formed the boundary of the canyon, roughly a mile wide on the north end, like Shaeda said, and probably at least as deep.

  "Trust me now, my pet .. .

  Warryn came next, flanked by his men. They made a crescent, looking down into the Teardrop.

  Beautiful, but the stark kind of beauty that only the desert can create. Ribbons of purple, orange, gold, and brown made long bands around the canyon walls. Brush, cacti, and open-throated desert flowers colored the floor. As it narrowed, flora and rock grew so densely they formed a canopy. He couldn't see what treasures lay within.

  "Don't forget"-Johnis broke the silence first-"it's a Black Forest. That place is swarming with the bats. We just can't see them yet."

  "Bats." Warryn eyed him. "Down there?"

  "Yes. But you aren't going down there."

  Warryn stiffened. "What?"

  "Ever had your face ripped off by one?" Johnis demanded.

  Shaedas reddish-purple sight and dark presence bore down on him. Enveloped him. He welcomed her.

  If the throaters went down there, he and Silvie were dead.

  And death was counter to the mission. Period.

  "Ever been tortured by Teeleh and live to tell the tale?" Johnis was inches from Warryn's nose.

  "How many times have you been in Teelehs private lair? In the abode of one of his queens? How many have you killed?"

  The throater scowled.

  "I didn't think so. Now I don't need you running off like cowards when this thing goes down. So here's what you're going to do: you're going to sit down and wait until Arya and I come back with the medallion, and then we'll go back to your Dark Priest. Understand?"

  Warryn drew his sword. "Who are you to me, pup?"

  Silvie's knives were in both hands.

  Johnis smashed his fist into the serpent warrior's face. Felt the bone snap.

  Warryn staggered backward and barely caught himself. His hands were at his bloodied nose.

  Johnis wiped the sticky crimson off his knuckles.

  "You'll wait here an hour. If we aren't back then, come down after us. It's a box canyon. Figure it out."

  He remounted. Silvie turned her horse.

  "Let's ride," he snapped.

  CASSAK TOOK HIS MEN CLOSER AND HAD THEM FAN OUT around the canyon, spread evenly. The scouts had seen the Eramites, intrigued by the skirmish at the rim, start to move.

  A runner from Marak. The general had not appreciated the attempted humor. Of course, the general had a lot on his mind.

  Cassak made a mental note to remind Marak that his albino pet was going to have to be dealt with.

  Something had the general in a foul mood. The message was short: Keep Warryn in line. Get the amulet. Don't provoke Eram.

  Thanks, Marak. Please get over your dead brother and focus. Desecration, General. Desecration. Remember? Kill all albinos? Your job?

  Cassak shook it off. He'd never say any of that. Marak would be over it by the time his captain returne
d. The general always bounced back.

  Sucrow just should have known to leave well enough alone.

  "Captain."

  Cassak snapped his head up. A scout knelt before him.

  "You might want to go over there. Sucrow's men spotted Eramites."

  The captain swore and mounted up. "Hurry. The last thing we need is a war on two fronts."

  DOWN, DOWN THEY WENT, FOLLOWING A MUD-STREAKED path and a narrow ledge barely wide enough for the horses. The path grew steeper.

  Johnis leaned back in the saddle until his upper body was completely vertical with the canyon floor.

  Shaedas gaze showed him the winding path through the canyon, the graves ... the lair ... the medallion ...

  They were deep within.

  He pulled out the harach.

  The way was steep, and time was ticking.

  Neither said a word until they reached the bottom, more than a mile later. Stiff and nervous, Johnis slid off and stretched his bowed legs until he could feel them again. Silvie did the same, staring up along the rim far above them.

  "You're sure this is a Black Forest?" Silvie asked.

  "Yes, I'm sure."

  Shaedas heightened senses were killing him right now. Her potency overloaded his brain. He could smell mangy fur and decaying flesh. Feel the presence.

  The bats surrounded them.

  Derias. The mangy beast was close. So close. Dark thoughts seeped in, the desire to kill this pureblood tyrant who had caused so much pain to his people. His blood would run red before this ended. He would lick it up himself. He would ...

  The thoughts shut off again.

  Was Shaeda trying to hide something from him?

  He tried to shake off the eerie feeling creeping up his spine.

  "Let's get under cover," he suggested. "We're too exposed out here. A million Shataiki."

  "Try not to think about it."

  "I can sense them, Silvie. It's her. Her magic."

  Silvie eyed him. "Are you all right?"

  He shuddered. Didn't answer. Shaedas mesmerizing gaze held fast. Too much, more than he could hope to explain.

  Johnis could see everything.

  "The path here runs through the middle of the canyon," he tried to explain. "We can't just leave it. We can let the horses rest in the shade. Carry only what we can."

  They brought the horses in until the brush grew thick and tethered them in the shade with some of the water. The sun was now directly overhead and beating down on them. Johnis and Silvie took two water bottles apiece.