Matt Archer: Redemption Part 26

"I'm going with Matt," Will said, his tone daring the others to tell him no. "We don't know what'll happen in there, and he needs a wielder at his back."

"I agree," Ramirez said. He drew his knife slowly, almost tenderly, from its sheath. The blade rasped against the leather and he smiled. "But if it's all the same to you, I'm staying out here. Just in case."

"Me, too," Julie said. "I'm more use on offense."

Uncle Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, as if his choices caused him pain. "Okay, then here's the plan. Archer and Cruessan, along with me, Nguyen and Johnson, are going into the caves. That's it. Everyone else stays out here, armed to the teeth. Any objections?"

"I'd prefer to come with you to the caves," Jorge said.

"We might need a third wielder on guard outside," Uncle Mike said. "But I'll let Archer decide."

Everyone turned to me. Of course he would make this my decision; I was the guy who had to touch the pentagrams. If I was honest, the idea of burning my hands, maybe for nothing, paled in comparison to the minute chance I'd find a lead on Mamie. I'd jump into an acid bath if it meant she'd show up at home without a scratch on her.

Which made my choice easier.

I looked at each wielder in turn. "Jorge comes with us. Captain Tannen and Major Ramirez can take command while we're gone. If it gets crazy out here, send Jorge and Cruessan back to help."

Uncle Mike nodded, like he approved my decision, even though he did shoot a concerned glance at my aunt. "Keep alert."

"Always," Aunt Julie said.

Uncle Mike led me, Jorge and Will into the gra.s.sy path on the way to the caves. Johnson and Nguyen watched our backs. The gra.s.s made a shush, shush, shush noise as we walked through it. That's when I noticed something odd. The last time we'd been here, the gra.s.s had caught on my clothes, my skin, my bootlaces. It had practically avoided touching Zenka, though, like it wanted to stay out of her way.

Today, not a single gra.s.s head brushed me as I walked by.

Uneasy, I checked out the others; all of them were struggling except Jorge. Besides me, he was the only one the gra.s.s bent away from.

What did this mean? Had I been imbued with some sort of shamanic power? Or did the gra.s.s simply know where I was headed and didn't want any part of it?

I shuddered. Here, in the Kalahari, it was late spring, and the air was warm, but I was cold all over, with pinp.r.i.c.ks of chill dancing across my skin. The feeling intensified as we approached the mouth of the cave.

To look at it, the cave was a shallow opening in an outcropping of rock. It wasn't wide, or deep, or even that dark. A pall hung over it, though, something foul. I wouldn't be able to swear that feeling was real or describe it to the others, but it was there. I turned to Jorge and his entire body was tense, like a man ready to spring at any second. While the others seemed jumpy, he was on high-alert. That's how I knew for sure I wasn't imaging things.

We filed inside. There was a dusty, unused smell in the air as we pa.s.sed ancient cave drawings of hunting parties and animals. They were faded due to age and exposure, unlike the paintings we were here to see.

Equally ancient, these paintings looked new. The enamel filling in the white pentagram, the one depicting the wielders in various stances, was as fresh as if it had just been applied. The same was true of the black, upside-down pentagram which showed the prime monsters we'd killed. At the bottom, the Shadow Man stood smeared and holding a curved-bladed spear, the enamel s.h.i.+ning slick and oily in the light of Captain Johnson's flashlight.

"Tink?" I murmured. "Are you sure about this?"

No, but we have to try. Don't lay away the knife, though. Keep it on your person, where it belongs. You'll need its power, and mine, I fear.

"Way to boost my confidence." I let out a long breath and unfastened my camo jacket. The chills had left, and now I was hot. My T-s.h.i.+rt felt too tight, constricting, but I wasn't going to strip down s.h.i.+rtless in front of these guys. Especially when I had no idea what would happen once I touched those pentagrams.

"Ready?" Uncle Mike asked softly. Concern ran deep in the lines of his forehead and around his eyes. He wasn't going to stop me, though.

"Yes."

I shook out my arms and spread my feet apart so I was standing straight and st.u.r.dy. Anything for Mamie. Anything at all.

I help up my hands just as rifle shots erupted outside, followed by Ramirez barking orders and the unmistakable boom of the Abrams' main gun being fired. Uncle Mike turned toward the cave's entrance, Jorge on his heels.

The cave wall snapped shut, blocking us from outside.

If we'd had any doubts this was the right place, they were gone now. Mike still went to the wall and pounded his fists against them. His hands came away b.l.o.o.d.y. He shot me a wild look.

"Like Afghanistan?" I asked. There, the cave wall had closed between me and my team, leaving me stranded on the wrong side.

"Worse," he said, showing me his hands. The skin was scored with cuts. "Unless you want to try to saw your way out with your knife."

"Gentlemen? Has anyone noticed the light?" Jorge asked.

He was right-despite being completely sealed off from the outside, it wasn't dark, but no one had clicked on a flashlight. I turned at the drawings; the white pentagram was glowing. My hands trembled as I reached out for the cave wall, because nothing would change my mind now-Mamie had been here.

In one swift motion, I pressed my palms against the pentagrams.

Chapter Thirty-Two.

The stone heated up beneath my hands, blazing hot. Out of reflex, I tried to let go and found I couldn't. My heart beat like a frightened animal's, fast and so hard, I swore it wanted to break free of my ribs to flee my body.

The heat spread up my arms, into my torso and down into my legs. I let out a sharp cry of pain and each beat of my pulse hurt.

Right as I reached the edge of my endurance, the wall released me and I was flung backward, into the team, where I crashed to the floor. Funny, even with all those people there to catch me, when I hit the ground, I hit my head too. Really hard. It made a sound like an overripe cantaloupe falling off a supermarket bin.

And how did I know that? I saw it happen. Because the body on the floor wasn't me-I was floating back toward the pentagrams. I tried to yell, to tell the others where I was, but nothing came out. Mike was on his knees by my side, Will next to him. Johnson was at the cave wall, yelling for help, but the m.u.f.fled sounds of battle were all that came through from the other side.

A searing pain that was everywhere at once embedded in my atoms and shocked my system. It felt like I was lengthening. The stretch and pull continued until I thought I'd snap through. Then the cave disappeared. The world went blind dark and utterly silent.

My nightmare, for real.

The world tilted and I hit ground with a thud. Slowly, the tiniest bit of light returned and I was lying on an ebony floor, sprawled out like I'd been dropped. My body was with me in this place. Wherever here was.

Strangely, I could still hear the team.

"He's convulsing. Pulse is thready."

"Matt, wake up!"

"His heart stopped!"

"We need a medic," Mike snapped.

"How?" Will said. "There's no way in or out, sir!"

"CPR," Jorge said, sounding calmer than the others. "Move aside."

I didn't have long, it sounded like. Whatever part of me-Soul? Consciousness?-had been removed, it didn't seem like my body appreciated being abandoned.

Standing took a lot of effort, but I managed in the end and saw I was in a long tunnel. I glanced right, then left. Not sure it mattered which way I went, I turned right and started walking. My footsteps echoed in the silence and a heavy loneliness settled on my shoulders. Wherever I was, I felt like the only living thing in existence.

When I came to the end of the tunnel, there were black marble stairs leading down. Flight after flight. How many stories I travelled, I'd never remember. It seemed like forever, but it might've been five minutes-or five weeks. Time had no meaning here.

Finally the stairs ended at an archway, and beyond it, a large hall made of carved stone, lit by torches of blue fire in sconces on the walls. At the end there was a large throne on a dais and on that throne sat something so dark it seemed to draw the light into itself. The huge creature was shaped roughly like a human, but smudged around the edges, indistinct, and cold radiated from its body.

The Dark Master had finally called me to him.

"Matthew." His voice was kindly and warm, not like the nightmare image in front of me. "How good of you to meet me. Come, please."

My feet dragged me forward. I had no control over myself in his presence, no matter how I struggled.

"Sorry it took you a while to travel here, but moving between planes isn't an easy thing." He chuckled and s.h.i.+vers wracked my body. "I had to ease you into the transition with all those useless pa.s.sageways. Unlike your sister, I couldn't be a.s.sured you'd make it across in one piece. She's a special case to be sure, and can exist both places. You? Well, it was a risk I was willing to chance."

"Where is Mamie?" I asked, hating to hear my voice shake. I wanted to look away from him, but he wouldn't allow me to turn my head.

"In due time." He motioned me forward. "I have a story to tell you. About why you're here. Please sit."

My knees buckled and I was forced to kneel on the floor at the shadow's feet. Goose b.u.mps rose on my scalp.

"Matt?" a soft voice asked from the pitch black behind the throne. "Is it you?"

"Mamie," I whispered, although I wanted to scream. The Dark Master controlled even that, it seemed.

"Yes, yes, my pet is close by. Behave and I might let you see her."

Rage finally started to break through my fear, and I checked the room for weapons. There were none. Only smooth stone walls, torches and the darkness of the Master.

"You must wonder why-and how-you came to be here," he said.

"I couldn't care less," I told him, fighting to raise my voice above a murmur. "Give my sister back, you f.u.c.king monster, and let us go."

"Profanity. So human." He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Your race is a blight marring the perfection of my universe. I can't let that continue. You need to be weeded out."

"Your universe? How do you figure that?"

Now he c.o.c.ked his head. His features were so smeared, I couldn't tell, but I thought he might be smiling. "Because I made it. I created the very fabric of the cosmos, you know. And before long, I'll own it all. As it should be. You cannot keep something as vast as myself boxed."

So Dr. Burton-Hughes's theories were true. That's why Nocturna Maura killed her-because she knew where the Dark One came from. The physics community had called her crazy. If they only knew. She may've been a scientist, but she was also a shaman, and she knew the truth even if her colleagues never believed her.

I tried to lift my head. "Old news. Someone else already figured that out. Dr. Burton-Hughes discovered dark energy-you-blew apart what existed before the Big Bang."

"Indeed. She was a rare exception to the rule of human stupidity."

I edged a fraction to the right, wondering if I could rush the beast, break his neck. After straining every muscle until I saw stars, the best I could do was barely straighten my back. This was hopeless. I was in his world. Powerless to fight. How would I get to my sister?

"She saw that you were a tiny speck of a thing compared to all that light," I said. "You had to destroy something beautiful to come into being. Pretty pitiful thing to do if you ask me."

"So disrespectful," the beast said. "My other family protected you, you know. Humanity, I mean. Otherwise I would have laid waste to men long ago."

"But you failed." My sister's voice was like velvet, a purr from a satisfied cat-not timorous or afraid. "You tried and tried, and always failed. Our brothers and sister were always there to stop you."

The Master's grip tightened on his spear. "Not this time."

Mamie's chuckle made me s.h.i.+ver almost as much as the shadow did. The power in it ... And her voice-her voice was so ancient as she said, "You may have me chained here, but we are still bright enough to blind you."

At the word "bright" a soft glow began to light the absolute dark behind the Master, and there was my sister. Mamie walked forward slowly, and each step clanked. Shackles bound her feet and hands, with heavy chains threaded through them.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part.

Mamie was beautiful-almost terrible in her beauty, both nothing like my sister, and more like her than I'd ever seen. Her hair wasn't in pigtails, but flowed down her back in waves and her gla.s.ses were gone. Even her clothes were different. Instead of the bloodstained jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt I expected, she was wearing a long, white gown that shone too brilliantly to stare at for long.

She looked like a stylized version of the Rose Bowl queen. Except scary.

I'd heard tales of how men had fallen to their knees in the presence of angels, unable to bear to the sight of them. How they'd hidden their eyes and cried out in fear. That was exactly how I felt right now.

The chains rattled as she shuffled past the beast and down the steps. I kept waiting for him to strike her, or restrain her, but he sat still, his head turned away from her light. Mamie made her way to me and I bowed my head.

"What are you?" I whispered.

"You already know."

"A proxy. The proxy." Jorge should've given her the arrowhead, not me. She was The Archer. The one to tie it all together, and now I'd lost her to the Master.

"Yes. I didn't always know, but after that last eclipse, I discovered exactly what I am, and a few days ago, I finally understood what I was meant to do," Mamie said. She knelt beside me, readjusting her chains so her hands had some range of motion, and straightened her dress so it pooled on the floor. "I'm still your sister, but Zenka's book told us the rest."

Her eyes glowed with some cosmic fire and I shuddered. "Born under the right stars."

She smiled. "Of all the luck, right?"

Only my sister could joke at a time like this. "And I'm your guardian. But I failed. You're here, and I can't even move, let alone help you escape."

"You're not here. Just visiting." She went to rest a hand on my shoulder and it pa.s.sed right through. "See? You aren't solid. Your body is still on earth. The Dark One pulled in your consciousness, but not you."

"I need someone to take over," Jorge said.

"It's been too long," Uncle Mike said, his voice full of panic.

"Not if we keep going." That was Will, angry and determined. "I got it, Jorge."

Johnson was still calling for help, but the fight raged on behind the wall.

I drew a sharp breath. "Being here is killing me, isn't it?"