Black (43 page)

A snicker ran through the audience of Shataiki. Teeleh took a step closer to Tom, eyes glaring. “I told you, this is my kingdom, not his. Here, if you don't take up the sword, you lose its power. You're a fool to think you can defeat me on my own land.”

The Shataiki suddenly swung the sword broadside at Tom's midsection. With a thump, the hard wood struck his bare flesh. He heaved in pain. The night grew fuzzy for a moment and he thought he might pass out.

“Now we will see how bright you are, you stupid sap.” Teeleh shoved the sword out toward Bill. “Take this sword and kill this slab of flesh. Kill him, and I will release you. Otherwise, I will let you both hang here for a very long time.”

The night turned deathly silent.

Kill Bill?

Bill wasn't real, Michal said.

But Bill was real.

Or was he just a figment?

Or was it a test? If he killed Bill, he would be obeying Teeleh by killing another man who in fact could be real. He would be following the wish of Teeleh, regardless of whether Bill was real.

On the other hand, if he
refused
to kill Bill because he believed Bill to be alive, then he was also following the word of Teeleh, who, contrary to Michal, claimed that Bill was real.

No matter what he did, Teeleh would claim a victory.

On the other hand, who cared what Teeleh claimed? Tom had to survive.

He lowered his head and struggled for a decent breath. He could seem to get enough air into his lungs only when he pushed up and gave his chest muscles room to function.

“What are you waiting for, you fool? You think this miserable soul deserves to live? Look at him!”

Tom wasn't sure he had the strength to raise his head again. Another blow to his midsection changed his mind.

“Look at him!” the Shataiki snarled.

Tom raised his head. Even if Bill were real, he wouldn't feel the sword in his current condition. Death would put him out of his misery. How had they managed to keep the poor soul alive this long? He shuddered.

“This human has rejected what you have accepted,” Teeleh said in an authoritative voice. “He has greedily indulged in the pleasure of his own flesh by drinking the water. He has already been sentenced to death. You would do him a significant favor by finishing him off.”

There was no way out. If Tom didn't kill this poor soul, they would both die. He closed his eyes, took another pull of air, and groaned.

“What was that, a yes?”

“Yes.”

The hushed mob of Shataiki erupted in a frenzy of excited whispers and hisses.

“A wise choice,” Teeleh said softly. “Pull him down! Let the human show us what he's made of.”

A dozen black bats immediately flew to the cross and began to pick at the twine that held Thomas. His right hand came free first and he slumped forward at an odd angle that almost pulled his left shoulder out of joint. His feet fell free next, and for an unbearable moment he hung only by his left arm. The rope tore loose and he crashed to the ground.

The Shataiki began singing in odd, twisted voices that pierced eerily into the night—grossly absent of melody, yet heavy with meaning.

“Kill . . . kill . . . kill . . .”

The leader leaped off the platform and stood to one side. The fire seemed to burn brighter as the throng pressed in closer.

Tom pushed himself up to a kneeling position. He faced the cross on which Bill hung.

Teeleh spread his wings to their full breadth. The volume of the Shataiki's song slowly grew, drumming deep into Tom's mind.

“Now, my son. Show me your submission by taking the sword with which you came to kill me, and kill this man instead.” With that, the Shataiki shoved the sword deep into the earth at Tom's knees.

The freakish pounding of voices behind the leader continued, and in that moment Tom doubted very much they would set him free without horrific consequences. Coming into the forest had been a terrible—

Tom suddenly flinched.

“What?” Teeleh demanded.

The stick at his back. The dagger! Had they taken it? No, they hadn't even seen it. It was under his tunic. It had been in contact with his flesh the whole time.

“Take the sword!” Teeleh thundered.

Tom felt a surge of energy spread through his bones. He gripped the blackened sword with his hands and used it as a crutch to drag himself to his feet.

The chanting grew louder. Its pitch rose higher.

Tom's head swam, and without the sword to steady himself he might have collapsed. He leaned on the black stick and waited for his legs to steady. Teeleh stood still, no more than three paces to his right, wings now wrapped around his shoulders in stately fashion. Tom gripped the sword with both hands and pulled it free from the ground.

He looked up at the body that hung on the cross, close enough to touch. He slowly raised the sword in his right fist.

The chanting rose to a roar, and the leader grinned wickedly.

Still shaking on his feet, Tom slipped his left hand behind his back and under his tunic.

There.
It was still there! He gripped the dagger with his fingers and jerked it into the open.

The effect was immediate. A hundred thousand Shataiki fell mute, as if somewhere in the back, behind the stage, some little idiot bat had tripped over a cord and pulled the plug.

Tom stared at the glowing red dagger in disbelief. He swung to Teeleh, holding the knife out before him.

The large black Shataiki's face was frozen in the firelight. Teeleh took a step back from the blade. Tom waved the knife a few inches and watched in amazement as the beast leaped back in fear. He felt the corners of his mouth edge up. Adrenaline poured new strength into his muscles.

He staggered to the edge of the clearing. Bats scattered, screeching.

Bill. He couldn't leave Bill.

Tom spun around. But there was no Bill. Of course there was no Bill. Just as there was no spaceship.

Tom looked at Teeleh. “You see what Elyon can do with only one
human?”
he asked quietly. “One human and one small blade of wood, and you're nothing but a sack of leather.”

The leader's face twisted in rage. He thrust a wing forward. “Attack him!” he screamed. A single Shataiki with inordinate courage streaked from a low branch toward Tom. A dozen others followed.

Tom's heart froze. Maybe he had spoken too early. He shifted the dagger toward the first onrushing bat and stiffened for the impact.

But the shrieking bat's extended talons, followed by the rest of its body, fell limp the instant the glow from the extended dagger touched its skin. Its momentum carried the bat hurtling into the ground, where it crumpled in a heap of dead fur.

Two other bats made the same journey before the rest broke off the attack, shrieking in defeat. Tom shifted his shaking limbs. He looked back toward Teeleh, who stood trembling.

“Never!” he shouted. “Not now, not ever. You will never win.”

With that, Tom turned from the throng and staggered into the forest, dagger held high.

The bats kept their distance, but it sounded like every last one of them was following. Flapping, clicking, and now shrieking.

He still had to find the Crossing. How far had they carried him after attacking him at the clearing? It had been roughly midday, and then night when he came to on the cross. Now it was moving toward morning.

He hadn't dreamed while unconscious. Or if he had, he couldn't remember what he'd dreamed. Strange. What was happening in Bangkok? Maybe nothing. Maybe there was no Bangkok, just as there was no spaceship and no Bill. Maybe that's why he wasn't dreaming anymore.

It was the rising sun that saved him. A very soft glow in the east. Tom pulled up in a clearing. If that was east, then the river was directly ahead, north.

A black canopy moved against the dim sky.

“Get away!” Tom shouted, waving the dagger.

Shrieks echoed and the canopy lifted from the trees. Then settled again. Somewhere out there Teeleh watched.

Watched and waited.

He hit the river an hour later. No Crossing. The question was: Right or left? His back and chest burned with deep cuts. If he couldn't find the Crossing soon, he would just jump into the river and swim across. Could he do that?

Tom turned east and jogged along the river. The bats followed in the trees. On the other side of the river, the colored forest glowed like a rainbow.

Tom was seriously considering a dive into the river when he caught the glint of white directly ahead.

He pulled up, panting. There, arching lazily over the bubbling green waters, a white bridge stretched from the dark, harsh ground on which he stood to a lush landscape, bursting with color and life.

The Crossing.

He swallowed at the sight and surged forward on wobbly legs. He had made it.

He had actually made it! Twice now he'd talked to Teeleh and survived. The big, ugly bat wasn't all that powerful after all. It was simply a matter of knowing how to defeat him. Knowledge was the key. You know what to do, and you—

Tom stopped midstride.

There, near the bridge on the opposite shore, silhouetted by the lucent forest, stood the unmistakable figure of a human.

Tanis!

The man stared at Tom, frozen like a statue. In his hands he held a red sword like Tom's .A sword?

A rush filled the air. Teeleh settled to the ground, directly opposite Tanis. He was no longer the black creature, but the beautiful bat, glowing blue and gold. A chill swept down Tom's spine.

The Shataiki folded his wings and opened his mouth wide. At first nothing happened. And then he began to make a noise.

The sound that issued past Teeleh's trembling pink tongue was unlike any Tom had ever heard. It was not speech. It was song. A song with long, low, terrifying notes that seemed to crackle in heavy vibration, slamming into Tom's chest.

It was as though the beast had harbored the song for a thousand years, perfecting each tone, each word. Saving it for this day.

Words came with the song now.

“Firstborn,” the leader sang out, spreading his wings. In his right wing he carried a fruit. “My friend, come in peace.”

The song reverberated through the air. A lovely song. A song of peace and love and joy and fruit so delicious that no person could possibly resist.

And Tom knew that he must, at all costs.

Tanis watched Teeleh with bulging eyes.

Tom found his voice. He began to yell, to scream at Tanis. But Teeleh only sang louder, drowning him out.

There were two melodies, spun as one, twisted and entwined into a single song. On one strand, beauty. Breathtaking life. On the other, terror. Endless death.

He looked at Tanis. The expression of delight plastered on the man's face told Tom that Tanis could not hear the other notes. The twisted ones. He heard only the lovely song. The pure tones of song that rivaled those spun by Johan, or those sung by—

And then he recognized one of the melodies. It was from the lake! A song from Elyon!

Tom struggled to his feet as the song's meaning became clear. He forced air through his lungs. “Run, Tanis!” Tom screamed across the river. “Run!”

Tanis stood transfixed by the large Shataiki.

“Tanis, run!” Tom bellowed.

He reached the Crossing and staggered up its arch. His vision swam from exhaustion and pain, but he forced his feet on. Behind him, Teeleh's song continued to fill the air.

“Get out of here!” Tom gasped. He crashed into Tanis. Knocked him from his feet. The sword spun into the river.

“Have you lost your mind?”

The man stammered something and scrambled to his feet.

“Run! Just run!” Tom propelled Tanis into the forest.

Behind them Teeleh's voice rang out a new chorus. “I have powers beyond your imagination, Tanisssss!”

And then the sounds from the Crossing fell away.

They reached the clearing in which Tom had first been healed, fifty paces from the river, and Tom knew that he could not manage another step. His world tipped crazily, and he collapsed on the grass. For a moment he was vaguely aware of Tanis kneeling over him with a fruit in his hands.

Then he was aware of nothing but the distant beating of his heart.

31

T
om sagged on the couch, looking peaceful and sad at the same time, Kara thought. But behind his closed eyes, only God knew what was really happening. He'd been sleeping two hours, but if she was right, two hours could be two days in the colored forest, assuming he didn't sleep there.

Amazing. If only there was a way for him to bring Rachelle back with him. Or for her to go with Tom.

The bustle of security and secretaries and white-coated lab technicians had eased for the moment, leaving them alone in the large room they were coming to think of as their situation room.

Six hours had passed since Raison had ordered the tests. And still no answer. No definitive answer, anyway. There'd been a ruckus just after Tom had fallen asleep, when Peter had barged into the situation room, mumbling incoherently. Peter turned on his heels and hurried into Raison's office, white smock flying behind.