Shady Lady

Where Fire Eats the Sky

The river wound in slow undulations like a snake, bearing out my hypothesis about our path. Scarlet macaws and wild yellow-ridged toucans watched from the trees. As we walked, I kept an eye on the rippling water, watching for anacondas. It could also be alligators, I supposed, though that didn’t improve the situation.

Shannon liked to watch the nature channels, so after she moved in, I got cable TV. While I was okay living in the Dark Ages, I wanted more for her, knowing she’d grown up in Kilmer; I understood all too well what that was like. We’d seen a show one afternoon last month about how alligators stalked their prey, watching from beneath the murky water and learning their habits. Sometimes they would take days about it and then strike when the hapless campers were bathing or drawing water. I never dreamt I’d find myself in a situation like this one, where facts gleaned on Animal Planet could be useful. Unfortunately, it was also terrifying.

A few times I started at some small amphibian hopping in or out of the river.

Pygmy marmosets chattered in the trees. As long as they were around, I knew we didn’t have to worry about hunting cats . . . jaguars and ocelots mostly. If the monkeys scrambled away, we needed to worry. Along the route, I saw a capybara rump in distant undergrowth, but it lumbered away from us as only a giant rodent could. By clinging to the river’s edge, we avoided a lot of the need to cut our way through the jungle. Still, Kel had to swing the machete now and then. It would be easier if we had a boat, but that offered other risks.

By midday—or what I guessed was midday—my clothes stuck to my skin, sodden with sweat, and my whole body felt like fungus grew out of every pore. We paused for food and drink. Wading in the water would cool me off, but walking in wet clothes afterward sounded hellish, and I didn’t feel sanguine about stripping.

As I weighed the pros and cons, a weird cry rang out and then a creature launched from the branches above. I caught only a glimpse of striped, spotted dun fur, and I scrambled backward. My arms windmilled and I tumbled into the river. Kel called out, but the current snagged me and knocked me off my feet. Fear of what lurked beneath the surface had me thrashing wildly before reason reasserted itself. Sailing along, I assessed my predicament.

I’d managed to get farther from land with the flailing, so I oriented myself and tried not to think about piranhas. On Animal Planet, I’d also watched a special about how struggling, injured prey incited their feeding frenzy. Smooth, strong movements. Show no fear, no weakness. That mantra in mind, I angled toward shore, though I sped along faster than I liked. The river pulled against me, but I swam until my arms burned and my thighs hurt, concentrating on keeping my head above water. I passed a fallen tree and skinned my hands grabbing onto it. Using it as leverage I pulled myself into the shallows, where I could crawl back onto the banks. The ground was slippery with mud and moss, but I just lay down and flopped over onto my back. My breath came in heavy gulps. Christ, I’d never liked swimming in lakes or rivers, where the water was dark and muddy. I preferred the ocean.

I heard footsteps, and then Kel loomed over me. “I was right behind you.”

“Good to know.” But I was proud; I’d handled the situation without screaming, no helplessness. This success set a strong precedent for the challenges to come.

“You might want to rinse your hair.”

Well, yeah. It had all kinds of crud in it—dead leaves, bugs, moss, fungus, and mud—from my sojourn on the bank. By comparison even river water sounded fantastic. I took his proffered hand and felt a pinch as I stood; there was something on my stomach. Now that the terror had subsided to manageable levels, I felt the pressure. A shudder rolled through me.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look—

I raised my shirt and looked. A flat gray-black blob stuck to my skin. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

“It’s a leech. You likely stirred it when you crawled past the dead tree.”

With some effort, I spoke through clenched teeth. “Get it off.”

Get it off, get it off, get it off. Some people feared insects; spiders and snakes topped the list for others. For me, it was any water-dwelling critter that lacked arms, legs, or fins, which encompassed a large spectrum of creepy crawlies.

His tone was so soothing that I wanted to punch him. “If we attempt to remove it, there’s some risk it’ll vomit into the wound and you’ll get an infection. Since we don’t have many medical supplies, it’s better to let it eat.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Come. Stand by the water. When it’s done, it’ll drop off.”

In movies, they put salt or fire on it and the thing shriveled up. But we didn’t have either one, and I didn’t want him taking a knife to me. I let him lead me, but tears slid down my cheeks. Escobar hadn’t been kidding when he said my courage would be tested. I stood still, teetering on the edge of a complete meltdown.

With a gentleness I didn’t expect, at least not for me, Kel took down my braids and used a long leaf to scoop up water to rinse my hair. In time, his methodical movements took my mind off the thing drinking my blood. His care reminded me of the way monkeys groomed one another; I’d watched that on Animal Planet with Shannon too. I wondered how she was, whether she was helping Eva, and if they were petting Butch enough.

“This too shall pass.” My mother had murmured that to comfort me when times got bad.

His hands stilled. “Do you know the story behind those words?”

“I don’t think so.”

“King Solomon wanted to humble one of his ministers, so he sent him to find a magic ring, giving him six months to do so. Solomon told the man it held the power to fill a happy man with sorrow and cheer a woeful man. The king knew the man would never find it, because it didn’t exist, but failure would temper his arrogance. The adviser searched everywhere, and on the day before he must concede the loss, he passed through the poorest part of Jerusalem. On impulse, he asked a merchant if he had heard of such an item. In answer, the old man gave him a ring engraved with the simple phrase in Hebrew, ‘This too shall pass.’ ”

By the time he finished, so had the leech. It fell off my body and splooshed into the river, presumably returning to the dead tree. I had a small wound on my stomach, trickling blood, but it wasn’t as big as I expected. I exhaled unsteadily.

Another King Solomon story. I was too tired to protest that it was a common saying. After everything that had happened, I had no energy to spare wondering about my bloodlines or my destiny; no matter what else, I liked the cleverness of the fable. A happy man, reading such, remembered that pleasure was fleeting; a sorrowful man recalled that no pain lasted forever. I needed that reminder.

Since I was wet from head to toe, walking would be a misery henceforth, because the humid air wouldn’t allow me to dry out. I had to smell disgusting. But he wasn’t done with me. He stripped off his shirt, dipped the clean end in the river, and used it to wash my face. Beneath his care, I felt vulnerable.

Wordlessly, I braided my hair into a single plait. He froze then. For the first time, his expression told me clearly what he felt. Fear. Likely I didn’t want to know what could scare him.

I asked anyway. “What?”

In answer he indicated my throat; my palm rose to investigate. No pendant. No protection. The next time Montoya’s sorcerer sought, he’d find me. Wonderful, so it really would be like The Amazing Race. But we were far enough out here that his men would have a hell of a time catching up. Sendings and summonings were different, and I didn’t have a Tri-P—one of Shannon’s portable protection packs—on me, but even if I’d had the foresight to make one in the village, the river dunking would’ve rendered it ineffectual. I was so screwed.

“That just raised the stakes,” Kel said.

No longer could we consider this a challenge without outside antagonists.

“We’ll just have to push harder.” Which meant running through our dwindling supplies faster. “You know how to survive in hostile conditions, right?”

His expression said I probably should’ve asked him that before I chose him for this job. As if I’d had an opportunity. “Try not to worry. Just keep moving.”

Apart from that one ocelot, the wildlife mostly left us alone, as if Kel emitted a low-grade signal that warned them away. Partway, rain blasted through the leaves like a watery blanket. It was a sudden, fierce shower that left us drenched but did nothing to cool the air. We walked until fire ate the sky. At that point, the river bent right, which I thought was east, but I wasn’t sure anymore.

“I think this is where you head up.”

He nodded. “Watch the packs.”

It wasn’t until he started climbing that I got nervous. As long as I’d been moving and not thinking—and frankly, I was almost too tired to do more than put one foot in front of the other—I could quiet my mind. Now that it was just the jungle sounds and me, fear strolled in, hand in hand with visceral exhaustion. I slumped against the tree trunk while keeping an eye out for reptiles and unfriendly amphibians. I retained the good sense not to call out, though it was tough.

An eternity later, he dropped from the lowest branches. “We need to cut west, away from the river. A tall pile of stones marks the way.”

“One that looks like a lady?”

He nodded. “Undoubtedly. Just beyond there, the jungle thins. I think there’s a valley, just as you predicted.”

“How far? Should we risk it tonight?” The light was fading fast.

“I don’t think it’s more than an hour or two. Stay close.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. In the dark, the jungle was a hundred times as frightening. Each noise seemed magnified. Each time a branch rustled or the leaves stirred, my muscles clenched, bracing for an attack. Kel used the machete more in that last hour than he had all the days prior. There was no path; we might have been the first people to walk this way in hundreds of years.

I was stumbling, borderline falling on my face, when the trees gave way to rolling hillside. For the first time in days, I saw the sky and it was magnificent. Out here, no city lights dimmed the display, and the stars shimmered like heavenly crystal on dark silk. I had never in my life seen anything so lovely or so welcome.

“We’ll camp at the lady tonight,” Kel said. “She’s just over this rise.”

I didn’t argue with him, though I was none too sure my legs would hold me. In the past days, I had gone well beyond my imagined limits and I was still going. He led the way, and I trudged on, weakness quivering in my muscles.

When we crested the hill, I saw her, and she was aweinspiring in the moonlight, a work of art to make one wonder at the ingenuity of indigenous people. Four enormous stones had been stacked and shaped—how, I could only guess—but this was, unquestionably, the lady’s hollow. They had given her a feminine silhouette and a swollen belly, but she lacked a head. Maybe she’d had one in days past and it had yielded to the elements.

My pace increased until I was leading the way. The ground was relatively level near the monument, so I sat down. My skin bore countless insect bites; I was sore, chafed, and so grateful to be still I couldn’t articulate it. A burn in my shoulders punished me for carrying a backpack for days at a time when I was used to sitting at a counter, but at least out of the jungle, we might pass a dry night.

“So you think we need to dig?” I asked.

Unearth her bones, the translation said. I hoped to all gods and goddesses we were not actually being asked to rob a grave. I didn’t think I could do it, not even to save my own skin. With Montoya’s assassins, I could tell myself they were paid to kill me and feel better about their lost lives. I could even rationalize the alliance with Escobar for the sake of my own survival, even though accepting his patronage would taint me in ways I might not discover right away.

But to desecrate a grave to pass Escobar’s test? The coffin contained a peaceful soul who never did me any harm. I knew how I’d feel if someone dug up my mother’s remains to steal from her body. I couldn’t do that to an innocent, grieving family, even to save my own life—and surely Kel wouldn’t want me to. Yeah, I’d done some bad things along this road, but corpse defilers were universally loathed.

“Hard to say. We’ll find out in the morning.”

With some effort, I put the macabre possibility from my mind. While I was at my physical limit, I had a little brain juice left. “You need sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

To my surprise, he unrolled his ultralight sleeping bag and lay down without argument. Which meant he had to be dead on his feet. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. It was too warm a night to need a fire, even if I’d wanted to go wandering in the dark to find wood. I didn’t.

After a while, the faint breeze cut through my damp clothes. I shivered and wrapped my own bag around my shoulders, but I couldn’t close my eyes. With my back against the comforting stone of the lady, I felt reasonably sure I could get through the night—or at least a few hours. Thoughts of Chance filled my mind, unsurprisingly. I could go months pretending I didn’t miss him, but in the darkness and the silence, I remembered how it felt to touch him, how he smelled, and the way his hair felt slipping through my fingers. Seeing him in the dream world brought it all back. Go away, I told the dream Chance. You made it clear where we stood when you didn’t call or write.

Time passed slowly, and I struggled to stay awake. With no watch and my cell phone off, I had no way of knowing how long I had let Kel sleep. He roused with a jerk, somersaulting to his feet and reaching for a weapon that wasn’t strapped to his back. His muscles tensed and twitched; in those moments, I had no doubt he didn’t know where—or possibly when—he was. I didn’t dare move.

“The night’s been quiet.” I hoped my voice would be enough to orient him, and some of the strain eased from his stance. “Bad dream?”

He turned and braced his forearm on the stone, then dropped his head onto it. His breath came in fast, shallow shudders. Damn. I’d never seen him like this. I had no idea what to do about it. Tortured muscles groaned as I pulled myself up. Approaching as I would a wild animal, I hesitated. He didn’t move. I set my hands lightly, tentatively, on his shoulders. Kel trembled, not at my touch, but from whatever he’d been reliving.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, hoping it was.

What would I do if he went batshit on me? I had little sense of direction, couldn’t hunt, and wouldn’t be able to find clean water unless it came from a drinking fountain. Hell, maybe not even then.

He turned then. His head dropped toward mine and he rested his cheek against my hair, the lightest pressure, so brief I might’ve imagined it, and then he stepped back. Once, he would’ve withdrawn completely, hidden his pain, but we’d shared so much in a short time, bonded in blood. We were not the same as we’d been when he first walked through my door.

“Yes,” he said, ignoring my reassurance. “Bad.”

“Tell me?”

He closed his eyes, sinking down against the stone. It scraped the amputation scars I had identified when he shared his blood. Copper scented the air, but he would heal, though that did not stop the pain.

“I dreamt of lost days,” he said at length. “Of when the Romans took my wings. It was a time of martyrs, when it pleased the archangels to see holy blood spilled to unite the faithful. In the hidden chamber deep within the coliseum, I told Emperor Commodus I would not kneel to him, and thereafter, they made a spectacle of me.”

“You fought?” I knew little of those days. My mother hadn’t believed in religious education, and what I’d learned in school had been sketchy at best. I doubted it would have prepared me for him in any case; he seemed so weary in the moonlight . . . and utterly alone.

Kel nodded, his expression distant. “When they saw I could not die, they hunted me for sport, and the archangels saw fit I should be punished. But once my persecutors fell to dust, I stood in the broken stones of that coliseum, saw how the mosaics are ruined and faded. The timeless work of mankind means nothing.”

“ ‘Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair,’”I quoted, mostly because I couldn’t think what else to say. I had no context for comforting someone so old. I must seem like a veritable speck of dust.

As if voicing my thoughts, he went on. “To me, eternity means only time that does not end, but runs on and on like a dark river that feeds the sea. As they did then, witches and warlocks still crave my blood, so I hide my nature. Time has ground me down. . . . I am less than I was, and yet the work must be done.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Stupid question. If nothing else, I’d make him laugh at my presumption.

But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed out a slow breath, and when he spoke, he offered a faint, cryptic smile. “It helps that you asked. Rest a little before the sun comes up. I will not sleep again this night.”

I listened to him breathing for the longest time, and even though I should be sleeping now that he was awake, I couldn’t still my mind. Considering what he’d shared, I didn’t think I’d drift off, but I must have.

At first light he roused me. His face offered no evidence of the night before, quiet and composed as ever. He took off his shirt and wound it around his head like an Arab headdress. We ate in silence and shared the last of the water. If we didn’t find some soon, we’d be in trouble. Well, more than we were already.

The sky shone blue as the sun rose, and I followed him down into the valley. From this point, I didn’t know what we were looking for. Unearth her bones wasn’t as specific as one might prefer for relic hunting. My gait reflected the soreness in my muscles, but I kept moving over uneven ground.

Eventually I glimpsed a goat path and I hurried toward it. Surely that meant something. If nothing else, it was the first sign of civilization we’d seen in days. I could take learning we were offtrack, if it also meant a bath and clean clothes.

The trail led down into a village, smaller even than the one near where Escobar’s men had dropped us off. Squat adobe brick houses clustered together in the greensward. There were few vehicles and nothing like what I’d call a road. From the looks of those eyeing Kel, indigenous people lived here. I saw little Spanish blood reflected in the faces we passed on our way to the market in the center square, a glorified widening of the dirt.

We passed chickens and goats rummaging outside the houses. In every respect but one, this was a humble settlement. I paused outside the church. The crumbling stonework showed it to be ancient, older than anything else in this place; it dated to the time of the conquistadores and it carried Aymara symbols similar to those we’d found on the clay statue. Graven letters on the cornerstone told me its name: Nuestra Señora de la Peña. Our Lady of the Sorrows.

Right then, the way I felt, the name seemed ominous. Even Kel paused, gazing up at the relic of times dead and gone. I could hear people passing behind us, speculating, but I didn’t turn. I continued around the side of the churchyard littered with fallen stones and weeds. Behind it lay a cemetery.

Unearth her bones.

No, it couldn’t be literal. Could it? Dead man’s hands slid down my spine, icy cold and full of whispers of darkness to come.