Malevolent (The Puzzle Box Series Book 1)

by K. M. Carroll

  On the way home from church, I resolved to find him and ask if there was anything I could do to help him. Offer him food, maybe, although I'd never seen him eat anything.

  I had barely changed out of my church clothes into a sweater and jeans, when someone knocked at the front door. My heart leaped--Mal?--then I recognized Tiffany's silhouette through the door's glass panes.

  Suki lifted her head from her doggie bed and woofed. Her bandaged leg stretched beside her.

  "Shush!" I told her. "It's just Tiffany."

  I opened the door and Tiffany stepped in. She wore slacks and a blouse, fresh from church, herself. Her sleek hair was perfect, as always. "Hi, Libby! Want to drive up to Cal State with me? I want to show you--you know."

  She stooped and petted my dog while I considered. One part of me chafed at the delay in seeing Mal. But the other part of me smelled adventure--a chance to see the motes with real science equipment--and getting out of the house was like a tempting dessert to my newfound stir-craziness.

  "Well," I said, "I haven't had lunch yet ..."

  "No problem!" Tiffany held up her tiny black leather purse. "We can grab something on the way."

  I let my folks know where we were headed, and five minutes later we were speeding north on the highway in Tiffany's silver coupe.

  "So, I take it we're looking at motes?" I asked.

  Tiffany nodded. "Yes! I wanted to show them to you before our trip. Also I wanted to test yours, since you're so much better now."

  Trepidation struck me, and I had the impulse to duck and cover. "I'm your test subject?"

  "No! Well, yes. But I'm only going to look at a mouth swab."

  No blood, then. I'd been leery of blood since Robert bit me. But also, what if I didn't have any motes now? Or if I had more? What would I tell Tiffany? I wished I could call Mal, but he didn't have a phone. Maybe I should get him one.

  We grabbed chicken sandwiches and ate them on our way in to Bakersfield. We'd finished by the time we reached the Cal State campus. It was situated in the well-to-do southwest part of town, off Stockdale highway. The buildings sprawled in every direction, and I stared at them in trepidation.

  Tiffany whipped in and out of the maze of parking lots and buildings. "I wanted to live in the dorms here, just for the names. Rivendell, Numenor, Entwood--Lord of the Rings stuff."

  I laughed. "No Mordor?"

  "Who would want to live in Mordor?" Tiffany parked in a small parking lot, mostly empty. "Come on, the science buildings are kind of a hike."

  As we walked among the buildings, Tiffany's inner scientist rose to the surface. "The electron microscope is actually on loan from Berkeley. My professor's been teaching me to use it, and it's amazing. It reads tiny objects with high energy beams."

  "Lasers?"

  "Basically." After five minutes of quick walking, we entered the cool, dimly lit science building. Tiffany led me straight to the laboratory door, produced a key from her purse and unlocked it.

  I stared at her. "Where'd you get a key?"

  "Professor Davis. She always leaves her keys in her desk when she's working, and I had a copy made."

  I blinked at her. "Now, that is downright shady, girl."

  She grinned as she opened the door.

  I'd never been inside a science lab before. Weird equipment and computers everywhere, and it smelled like a musty computer store. But my inner nerd didn't begin drooling until Tiff showed me the electron microscope.

  It looked like a white telescope standing on end on top of a cash register. A modest computer screen sat beside it. Tiffany punched buttons on the cash register, which was actually the control console, and the computer flickered to life.

  She had me swab my mouth, then added my saliva and a drop of dye to a slide. Then she slid it into the slot underneath the telescope.

  The computer screen showed my cells scattered about, each nucleus speckled with machinery. Tiffany moved the view around with a couple of dials. Then she flipped another dial that increased the contrast. No black specks.

  "Huh." Tiffany withdrew my slide and prepared one of her own. "That's weird. Last time they showed up right away." She slid her slide under the microscope.

  More cells appeared on screen, but this time, black specks swarmed like gnats. Tiffany pointed. "Those things! Look at the way they move! In and out of the cells without rupturing the cell walls!"

  It did look like some kind of elementary particle. But at the same time it looked alive, too. The motes seemed most interested in the nucleus of each cell, and swooped in and out of them.

  The death motes were drawing the life from Tiffany's cells.

  I covered my mouth with one hand, then fingered my lower lip. What in the world should I say? Sorry, you're screwed? The Necromancer plans to harvest your soul on Tuesday?

  Mal had said that I could maybe resist the call--but Tiffany couldn't. I watched her work with new eyes, and my back began to sweat. She was my friend. And the Necromancer would turn her into a zombie.

  I wanted to cry ... or punch something.

  Tiffany switched back to my slide. "Let me try the filters again."

  I rearranged my face into a look of interest, but inside I had turned heavy and dark.

  The view changed, and new motes appeared on the screen--white ones. But they streamed out of each nucleus like rays of light, turning every cell into a sun burst.

  "Look at that!" she exclaimed. "What's going on with you, Libby? You've got radioactive cells!"

  I shrugged. "Maybe it's a glitch." Or maybe I had absorbed the life drained from the orchard, like a vampire ... or a lich. The light motes blazed around like tiny comets--not like death motes. That was the whole orchard, flitting around inside me.

  Mal had turned me into an anti-lich.

  Tiffany grabbed a gadget like a hole punch. "Can I look at your blood? Please?"

  "Fine." Curiosity overruled my squeamishness. She rubbed my finger with alcohol and I had to look away as she snapped the metal through my skin. Ouch.

  A moment later, red blood cells appeared on screen like rubber inner tubes, and riding in each one was a patch of light. A few dark motes circled here and there, but mostly my blood sparkled like the Las Vegas strip.

  But weirdest of all, lightning flickered in a chain between all the cells. The life motes again? Or--my heart sank--was I actually a light-side monster now?

  "Girl," Tiffany said, "you've got something weird going on."

  "Yeah, it's magic." I waved my hand like a Jedi. "These aren't the motes you're looking for."

  My joke fell flat, because Tiffany's eyes narrowed. "You know something about this. It's not--I mean, it can't be magic. Right?"

  Was it? This was life and death jumping around visibly. I fiddled with a paperweight that contained a wolf spider. "Uh, sure. Magic is the term we use for anything we don't understand."

  She continued to stare at me in disbelief. "That's not an answer."

  I set the paperweight down. "How about we get out of here? This is starting to seriously creep me out."

  Without a word, Tiffany shut off the microscope and dropped the slides into a slot in the wall marked 'incinerator'. "I'm done. Let's go."

  We drove in silence until we were headed south out of town through fields of cotton and alfalfa. Finally Tiffany said, "I just can't understand what we saw. I've got black inside me, and you have light. But you're still sick, right?" She studied me, which was disconcerting while driving.

  I sighed. "I'm well, Tiff. It's not just meds."

  "I knew it!" She slapped the steering wheel. "That beekeeper's been experimenting on you, hasn't he?"

  Not exactly experimenting--Mal knew what he was doing. I chose my words carefully. "He knows a lot about alternative medicine."

  Tiffany harrumphed. "Whatever. We've stumbled onto something big, Libby. I've been careless." She checked her rear view mirrors. "What if government agents are hauling people off? What if they saw us? I was so focused on examining you th
at I didn't look around."

  "Nobody's following us." But what if those missing people had been turned into thralls by the Necromancer? Or assimilated by the Marchers? Either one was worse than the government snatching people. A chill raced over my skin.

  And why was there lightning in my blood?

  Mal

  I worked among my beehives late Sunday afternoon as the sun sent golden beams slanting through the almond orchards. The white blossoms blushed gold and pink. Bees whirled around me, comfortable with my presence, finally recovered from both the poison and the death magic.

  Libby had agreed to leave for the coast with her friend, which put her out of my father's reach. The friendly sunlight warmed my back. I hummed as I worked. For this brief moment, all was right, and I was most content when working with my bees.

  Footsteps crunched on the dirt road. Libby approached, eschewing the golf cart for the first time. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she walked with a purposeful stride I had never seen her use. She was healed, and my distant heart rejoiced.

  "Hello, Libby!" I held up the frame in my hands. "The bees have collected much honey! Would you like a little?"

  Her determined look brightened into a smile. "Yes please! Can Tiffany have some, too?"

  "Yes, I'll harvest a little for her." I pulled out my pocketknife, and carefully cut into the capped honeycomb. "By your leave, bees, I am taking a little honey. We have need."

  "Be sparing," the bees sang, landing on my arms to watch. "We need much of our stored light."

  I cut away three small pieces of honeycomb, then returned the frame to the hive. Then I handed Libby a piece.

  She nibbled her honeycomb and closed her eyes. "This is amazing."

  I ate my own slice. Sweet liquid light exploded in my mouth. The ever-present drag of death eased, and for a moment, I was mortal. I sighed in bliss. "The only thing better than the honey is sharing it with you."

  Libby licked her fingers and grinned. "Mal, are you flirting with me?"

  "It sounded better in my head." To cover my embarrassment, I located a small jar in my disguised trunk, and dropped the third honeycomb into it. "There. Tiffany is to eat it all, even the wax."

  "Thanks." Libby took the jar and stared at it. Her manner was downcast.

  "Is something wrong?"

  "I don't know. Maybe." She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, and finally tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "Um, there's lightning in my blood."

  My nervous system jolted. One of my hands actually jerked, and I concealed it by scratching my nose. When I spoke, my voice had risen an octave. "Lightning?"

  She recounted her experience at the lab, and how the microscope's filters had revealed three kinds of magic.

  My sluggish heart sped up. The bees sensed my unrest and circled me, singing soothing melodies.

  I had suspected she had an aptitude for magic, given the way she understood the language of the bees, and the way Robert had feasted on her. Now I was certain. She had glimpsed the power pulsing through her own blood.

  Dear God, she was a Marcher.

  If the Necromancer took her, she would become a powerful weapon in his war against them. In his climb toward power, he was always attempting to enthrall Marchers.

  No. I would not allow it.

  "Mal, why are you clenching your fists?"

  I opened my hands and stalled. "I was merely ... thinking. You have an unusual amount of life motes in your body at the moment. Perhaps that's all it was."

  Libby seemed relieved. She heaved a sigh and smiled. "I thought that's all it was. I mean, I've got the whole orchard in me, right?"

  "In a manner of speaking." As well as her own innate magic. "Tell me, Libby. Are there any walks you used to take, before you met Robert?"

  "Walks?" Her eyebrows drew together. "Like on the bike paths?"

  "No ... for instance, did you ever circle the orchards, or walk the property line?"

  She squinted into the setting sun, and fiddled with her ponytail. "Well, I guess so. I do like to walk around the orchards. Especially in summer, when they're shady."

  Ah. I would have to exercise care when moving about the ranch, especially now that she was well.

  "Why?" she asked. "Did you turn me into a life-magic monster or something?"

  I favored her with a difficult-to-perform smile. "Nothing like that. I'm simply glad you are well."

  I could tell by her expression that she didn't buy it. But she excused herself in order to give Tiffany the honeycomb.

  I gazed after her, and laid a hand on the nearest beehive. "My friends, she is a Marcher. What must I do?"

  "Save her from the enemy," they sang.

  My peaceful mood was shattered. I glanced at the setting sun. Two more days. I must locate my father and brother and learn something of their intentions. Even with Libby safely out of the way, Robert had tainted many others. I must prevent the Necromancer from calling them.

  The trouble was, I couldn't find them.

  At midnight I roamed Arvin, seeking the deep blackness of my father. He simply was not there. I returned to my camper shortly before dawn, confused and suspicious. He would not have gone far, not right before a big working.

  Foreboding lurked within me.

  Chapter 14

  Libby

  Tuesday morning dawned bright and sunny. The warm air was scented with a million almond blossoms. I dressed in a frenzy of excitement, and ran outside with Suki limping behind me.

  The energy of spring surged through my veins. I gulped the air and laughed. I was well! After six months of misery, I was well! And I was going to the beach! I tousled Suki's ears and ruffled her coat. She pranced on three legs and barked, catching my mood.

  I ran to the bee station, but Mal wasn't there. "He is asleep in his car house," the bees told me.

  "Tell him goodbye for me!" I blew a kiss to the hives and dashed back to the house. I'd see him tomorrow, anyway. Tomorrow the Necromancer's ritual would be over, I'd be well, and Mal and I could continue our intriguing friendship.

  I ran back to my room and examined my overnight bag once more--and a thought occurred to me. I pulled Mal's puzzle box out from under my bed. I couldn't leave it here, unprotected. I tucked it into my bag and hid it under a folded shirt. There. Safe.

  Tiffany arrived at eight. I hugged Mom and Dad goodbye, tossed my bag in the trunk, and we took off for the coast, singing along with Boston at the top of our lungs.

  Santa Barbara was a three hour drive over the ridge, with half an hour for lunch. We stopped at a McDonalds when we reached Castaic in the mountains. The air was clean and pure up there, and the sky was so blue. The sky was kind of grayish down in the valley.

  I dug into my purse. "Hey Tiff, I thought you should have this." I pulled out the seashell necklace Mal had given me.

  Tiffany took the shell and rolled it in her palm. "Beautiful gold color. It's a cowrie, right?"

  "Right. If you point the mouth at a vampire, it works like a crucifix."

  We laughed. She thought I was kidding, but she put it on and stroked it. "Thanks, Libby. Appropriate gift for a beach trip. I'll get you one to match at the beach."

  As we neared the coast, the road narrowed to two lanes and wound through the hills. In many places there was a cliff wall on one side and a drop off on the other. Tiffany drove at a nervous thirty miles an hour.

  I looked over the cliff into the dark green oak trees below. If other drivers had plunged to their deaths, there was no sign of it.

  Tiffany glanced in the rear view mirror, squinted, and muttered, "What in the world?"

  A human figure ran past us on the road. He ran like an Olympic sprinter, arms and legs pumping, blurred by speed.

  I glanced at the speedometer. Thirty miles an hour.

  "That's not possible!" Tiffany gasped, also checking our speed. "Humans can't run that fast!"

  The figure disappeared around a bend ahead of us. I dug my fingers into the seat's upho
lstery. Only three people in my social circle could move like that. But Mal wouldn't chase us, and it wasn't the Necromancer's style.

  "I think that was Robert."

  Tiffany shot me a sideways glance. "When did Robert learn to outrun cars?"

  I threw caution to the wind. "He's a vampire. He bit you, and that's why there's black motes in your blood."

  Her lips formed the 'wh' sound, but before she could speak, a heavy object crashed into the car's roof.

  We screamed. The car swerved toward the drop off. Tiffany fought the wheel, wailing. I screamed, clawing for handholds, and bracing my feet on the dash.

  She wrenched us back onto the road. But before she straightened us out, three metal knives stabbed through the roof overhead, barely missing my face. The knives slid backward with a horrible tearing of metal, admitting daylight.

  Mal's claws were shorter--these must be Robert's. I gaped at them. This was yet another side of Robert I'd never seen--along with the maniac side that had broken my neck. And I had dated him for six months.

  Tiffany, however, reacted like the classic slasher film victim--she leaned against the steering wheel and screamed as if the blades were tearing off her limbs.

  Meanwhile, the car headed for the cliff wall. It swept toward us like a zoom-shot in a movie, all jagged rock and tiny flowering plants--

  The impact deafened me. The windshield cracked, I cracked my forehead against one knee, and the seatbelt slashed my torso. The car died.

  Tiffany leaned back in her seat with a groan, and cradled her left arm. We sat in panting silence a few seconds. I rubbed my forehead, where a goose egg was already rising, then unbuckled, and moved my arms and legs. No major pain. "Are you okay?"

  Her voice was a tiny sob. "My arm's broken."

  The claws punched through the roof again, brushing my hair. I ducked, and a sound rose in my throat--a growl that rose to a scream. "Raw-BERT!"

  I grabbed the shell necklace and pulled it over Tiffany's head. "I'm borrowing this." As she gaped at me, I kicked open my door and sprang out of the car.

  Robert knelt on the car's roof, teeth bared with the effort of slicing through metal. He grinned, as if this were perfectly normal, and I'd happened upon him while shopping at the mall. "Hey, Libby."