Rogue Angel - Warrior Spirit Part 30

Annja sat bolt upright.

Ken was already out of his sleeping bag with his pistol in hand.

"What was that noise?" she asked.

Ken shook his head. "I don't know."

Around them, the trees had gone still. The crickets no longer chirped. Even the roar of the waterfall seemed subdued. Annja searched the darkness for any sign of an enemy. As she did so, she gradually eased herself out of her sleeping bag. At least if they were attacked, she'd be able to defend herself.

Another yowl sounded, followed by a long, drawn-out moan that wafted through the glen. Annja had never heard any animal that sounded like this before. And she'd been close enough to many that she felt reasonably certain of what lived in the woods.

Then she remembered what Taka had told them at the temple in Osaka. Hadn't he told them about the legend of the kappa kappa swamp vampire that supposedly guarded the mountain monastery? swamp vampire that supposedly guarded the mountain monastery?

"Ken."

"It's just a legend, Annja." Ken shook his head. "Taka was probably just having a little bit of fun at our expense."

"Yeah, well, he's not here right now to ask, and this thing is out there somewhere. And I, for one, am not feeling too good about things right now." She closed her eyes and saw the sword, but when she reached for it, she couldn't wrap her hands around the hilt.

What was going on?

She opened her eyes. "I can't get my sword."

Ken frowned. "Why not?"

"I don't know."

"That's not good." With a free hand, Ken rummaged in his backpack and then tossed Annja a hunting knife in its sheath. "Here."

She caught it and unsheathed the blade that shone in the fading moonlight.

Another yowl sounded.

"That was a lot closer."

Ken had adjusted himself to aim properly. "I think it came from over there." He pointed at a grove of trees on the farthest edge of the glen.

"Don't shoot unless you have a target."

Ken glanced at Annja. "Yeah, thanks."

"Sorry," she said.

"Forget it. Just stay alert."

It grew colder then, as a stiff wind blew from deep out in the forest. Along with it, a mist seeped into the outskirts of the glen.

"It's getting foggy in here," Annja said.

"Temperature change," Ken said. "Totally natural."

"Are you sure?"

Ken nodded, but his face looked grim. And Annja didn't think he looked particularly convinced of his own statements.

The hunting knife felt firm in her hand. She was puzzled, though. Why couldn't she draw the sword out? She needed it certainly. So what had she done wrong that she couldn't bring it out at her command?

She wondered if her experience in the waterfall had done something to her. Had it somehow made her unable to get the sword? What would she do now that she couldn't get to it anymore?

She frowned. That couldn't be it. What would make her unable to use the sword if she'd just meditated? It just didn't make any sense.

Her stomach sank.

What if making love to Ken had been the wrong thing to do? What if it had signaled some sort of lapse of moral judgment on her part? If the sword truly had once belonged to Joan of Arc, then was G.o.d mad at her for sleeping with Ken?

Well, she thought, it certainly felt like the right thing to do. And it had been a lot of fun to boot.

No, there had to be another reason. Annja had never aspired to be Joan of Arc anyway. That was something she'd always maintained in the wake of discovering she could use the sword. She didn't put herself on a higher level than anyone else. And she really had no idea how the sword figured into her life.

It was more of an ongoing experiment than anything else.

It's probably something obvious, she thought. Something I'm overlooking.

Another yowl broke the silence, followed by two more.

"Problem," Ken said.

"What?"

"There seems to be more than one of them."

Annja swallowed. "Are you sure?"

"The first one-" Ken pointed "-came from over there. But the next two sounded at the far end of the pond. And they weren't echoes, either. There are definitely more than one of whatever is out there."

"Wonderful."

"I'm thrilled, too."

Annja considered the hunting knife. "I don't think this is going to be much use against multiple attackers."

"There's something else."

Annja frowned. "You're just full of good news tonight."

Ken pointed at the ground. "The mist is getting thicker."

Annja looked and saw he was right. The mist that had seeped in a few minutes previously was expanding to envelop the entire breadth of the glen. Annja's lower torso was already covered.

"This still natural?" she asked.

Ken shrugged. "I haven't been out here enough at night to know if this is natural or not. I was saying that earlier to try to calm you down."

"It didn't work."

"It didn't work on me, either," Ken said. "But you can't blame a guy for trying."

"I can if something worse happens to us now," Annja said. The mist was billowing in, like a thick smoke hugging the ground but drifting higher. Already many of the tree trunks close by were impossible to see.

"Mist like this cannot be natural," Annja said.

She looked inside of herself again to see if she could get the sword. But as she reached her hands for it, it seemed as if an invisible force field was inhibiting her from getting close enough to wrap her hands around the hilt.

"d.a.m.n."

"Still no sword?"

"No."

"I won't have much of a shot with this gun," Ken said. "My line of sight sucks right now. Trying to pinpoint a fast-moving target will be crazy."

Two more yowls sounded. They were much closer now.

"The mist plays tricks with the sounds," Annja said. "Right?"

Ken shook his head. "They're in the glen with us now."

Annja gripped the knife harder.

Ken tapped her on the shoulder and held a finger to his lips. There'd be no talking now. No sense letting whatever was in the glen know exactly where they were. If they were going to be attacked, they'd at least have to work for it.

Another three yowls filled the air. To Annja it seemed as if they were only twenty feet away.

Her heart hammered in her chest. But she didn't really feel afraid. She frowned. Now, that was weird.

In every instance of combat before this night, she'd had some sense of danger in some way. She used to think it was natural to get b.u.t.terflies like that, but in recent years she'd learned to rely on it more as instinct than mere anxiety.

She found it accurate, almost to a fault.

But now her warning system seemed to be faulty, as well. She couldn't draw the sword out and she couldn't rely on her instincts to protect her.

Everything was falling apart. And nothing made sense.

The mist drifted higher, up to their necks. Ken and Annja ducked beneath the opaqueness. Even being close to each other, they had trouble seeing anything.

Ken used his fingers to describe how he wanted Annja positioned. They would squat back-to-back in the event of an attack. At least that way they could know one definite thing in the mist of uncertainty.

Annja s.h.i.+fted around quietly, getting into position. Feeling the strength of Ken's back against hers made her feel a little bit better, but only a little.

Another yowl sounded.

Ten feet now, Annja thought. And the timbre had changed, as well. Like they're hunting for us in the mist.

And still, she wasn't afraid.

Are we safe here in the mist? she wondered. If we don't do anything to give away our position, is there a chance that whatever is out there won't be able to get a fix on our location and thereby attack?

It seemed too good to be true. And Annja didn't much feel like relying on mist for protection.

The hunting knife felt a little slippery in her grasp, and she realized she was sweating a lot in response to the stress of the situation.

She heard a low growl that couldn't have been any farther than six feet away.

They're so close!

Annja wanted to shout and run into the mist, driving them off and just slas.h.i.+ng and attacking, but Ken's back kept her where she was. She wouldn't leave him to be alone in this mess. She would stay with him and they would fight to the end.

The mist now enveloped everything around them. Annja could see nothing but white-gray, illuminated by the vague moonlight above. As far as she could tell, the mist simply went on forever.

She heard something to her right.

And then something else.

They're right there, she thought. Right there. They must hear us breathing. Any moment now they'll attack.

She closed her eyes and looked again for the sword, but nothing happened.

Why? She frowned. So much for going out swinging.

Behind her, she heard a sudden knock and then heard Ken moan. His back went slack.

"Ken?"

Something knocked her under her ear and the mist vanished as blackness dragged Annja under.

31.

Nezuma rolled over on his side, perched on the cliff overlooking the glen. The ghillie suit he wore enabled him to blend in perfectly with the surrounding forest. The night-vision scope he had spent the previous hour looking through rested in his hand.

Next to him, wearing another ghillie suit but squatting against the trunk of a tree and armed with a Heckler & Koch G36 a.s.sault rifle, sat Shuko. She held a parabolic microphone and attached to a set of earplugs in. When she saw Nezuma roll over and look at her, she took out the plugs.

"That was interesting," he said.