Mark of Four (29 page)

P
anic threaded
Alayne’s raw nerves. She struggled to keep her head. Even though her mind screamed for her to run, a small portion of her judgment stayed rational. “What do you want?” she snapped.

“Now hang on, no need to get all sore with us.” Malachi spread his hands in a placating gesture, but the knife spun in a slick circle in the palm of his hand before he grasped it again. Alayne backed up a few inches.

“You have ten seconds to explain, and then I’m out.” Alayne risked a glance over her shoulder. Empty forest behind her.
Where is Jayme? Did he escape?
Perhaps by now, he’d be lined up with the rest of them—prisoners of a war they had never intended to fight.

Malachi chuckled. “I like your style, miss. You got some heart.”

“Eight, seven, six...”

“Now just hold on there, Alayne. You can’t go nowhere ‘til I tell you what I’m lookin’ for. See, your parents were friends of mine—“

“They were
not
,” Alayne hotly interrupted.

“—and I been convinced for years that they know the location of a certain valuable I been wanting to get my hands on.”

“What valuable?” Alayne asked, although she already knew.

“Nothin’ much, really,” Malachi jerked his flannel-covered shoulders up into a shrug. “It’s a little thing called the Vale. White, pretty, dainty. Looks a bit like a diamond in sunlight, if you’re into comparin’ things.” He slid his knife back down into his boot. “Seen it anywhere?”

Alayne felt safer with the knife in his boot, though she knew that was ridiculous. If what her parents had told her was true, he was ruthless. The knife was probably the safest thing about him. “Nope. Can I go now?”

Malachi snorted and broke into a belly laugh. “First, little girl, I don’t believe you. You think you can tell me no, you ain’t seen it, and walk away? Second, I want to talk to your parents. I happen to know I ain’t up in the chit-chat visit section on their list of friends, so I’m pretty sure the only way they’re gonna let me talk to them and actually listen to what I got to say is if I’m keepin’ their only daughter safe and sound. So sit down and make yourself comfortable. You ain’t goin’ nowhere for awhile.”

“Hate to disappoint,” Alayne shot back, working to keep her voice from trembling, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to
leave me alone!
” She turned to go, expecting the element bend even before he did it.

A geyser burst out of the ground two feet in front of her, right where she was about to step. The force of the water shooting skyward rocked Alayne back on her heels, but she was ready. In a flash, she sent a sheet of the water directly in front of Malachi’s surprised face. It barreled into the small collection of fire-walkers, who had converged into a fiery line and were sprinting toward her. The water mowed them down. One more flick, and the water arced skyward again before crashing down on them with the weight of a falling shuttle. Their fires flickered. As the water puddled around them, tiny blue flames licked off their skin.

The second look at the fire-walkers cost Alayne. A wall of water circled and then crashed down on her. She fell backward, twisting her wrist on a tree root. Water filled her mouth and nose, and she coughed helplessly.

“Alayne!” Jayme’s panicked voice yanked up her head; she searched the dark woods for his familiar figure. He stood, frozen on the ridge above her as if he had paused mid-run, his eyes wide with horror.

“Run, Jayme!”

Malachi waved, and the geyser flew farther into the air. It took the shape of a horse and galloped straight toward Jayme. Wind screamed through the trees, and the water-horse veered to the side, crashing into the tree next to Jayme. An ear-splitting crack rent the air, and the tree tilted, falling in slow motion with a crackling of branches and a snapping of limbs.

The wind raced an arc through the trees and formed a spinning funnel. Malachi’s geyser became its own water spout. It flew across the forest floor toward Jayme. He dove to the side, losing his grip on his element. The twister dissipated.

Alayne rolled behind the tree, sending a massive surge of underground water into the dirt beneath Malachi’s feet. Suddenly, he was up to his knees in mud. She dug deeper, but Malachi ripped the elements from her fingers as he vaulted backward out of the soup.

“Nice try, Alayne,” he roared gleefully.

The puddle that still surrounded Alayne flew up out of the ground. It washed over her until she floated submerged in a bubble. She watched through the blurry water as Malachi pasted the outside of the bubble with frost and hard ice. Alayne’s lungs began to panic.

She swung wildly at the ice, but it was hard as a rock. She searched for the water element to reverse the process, but Malachi held it neatly out of reach. She glanced over at Jayme, barely visible through the frosty bubble. He scrambled wildly toward her, but ... who was that behind him? “Jayme, watch out!” she screamed pointlessly into the water, the last wisp of air escaping her lungs.

He couldn’t hear her.

A tornado swept toward her bubble. The next thing Alayne knew, she tumbled sideways and upside-down through the air, over the underbrush, across Jayme’s stumbling figure, and landed sprawled next to a huge oak.

Moonlight glinted across Daymon’s dark hair and the angular planes of his face as he stared at her. “Get out of here. I’ll do the rest.”

Alayne lay frozen, unable to move. Water still streamed from her mouth and nose.

“Go!” Daymon roared. He turned back to Malachi, crouching as he prepared for the big man’s next move.

Alayne glanced away toward the empty forest, toward freedom, but Jayme was still behind her. She turned back.

Malachi faced Daymon, a growl rumbling inside his chest. He wiped his fingers on the sides of his pants, cracking each knuckle one by one.

“What’re
you
doin’ here?” he roared.

The words barely registered with Alayne. Jayme was still on the ground between Daymon and Malachi. He lay on his back, propped up on his elbows, his head swinging from one man to the other.

“Jayme,” Alayne hissed.

He jerked his head toward her, scrambling backward as he did so.

Malachi threw a needle-fine thread of water, winding it tightly around Jayme, jerking his legs and yanking his wrists behind him as the thread circled his body again and again.

Alayne reached for the water element, but again, Malachi held it out of reach. Anger blazed in her body, so bright that dark spots blotted her vision. Self-control flew out the window. She raised her hands and fire erupted from them. She blew on her flaming palms, twisting her hands in wider and wider circles, forming a ball of fire that grew in height and depth and mass.

With all her might, she hurled it at Malachi.

The fire ball hit the ground in front of the big man and exploded into a massive inferno that would surely have swallowed up a lesser Elemental, but Malachi somersaulted backward, landing on his feet. He lost control of his element, and the water thread that bound Jayme dropped to the ground. Malachi’s beard smoked. He patted it, and the smoke ceased.

He stared in amazement at Alayne, and a slow comprehending smile spread across his face. “So that explains why you’re here, mister.” He nodded at Daymon.

“Explains what?” Jayme yelled. “What in CommonEarth is going on?” As the words flowed from his mouth, he dove behind a tree and peered out at Malachi from behind the trunk.

Alayne shook her head at Jayme. He swung his head around to stare at her, fear and suspicion mingling in his eyes.
I’ll tell you later,
she mouthed.

Daymon stood directly in front of her. Alayne crouched on the ground, peering around Daymon’s waist.

Malachi seemed to be taking a break. He paced in front of the un-moving fire-walkers and stared speculatively from Alayne to Daymon to Jayme and back to Alayne again. “Alayne, why don’t you shoot another ball of fire this way, just so I can prove to myself that you ain’t got no aiming skills.”

Angry fire leaped to her palms again.

“No!” Daymon shouted. “If outside fire touches the fire-walkers, they’ll come back to consciousness. We’ve got enough on our plate.”

With a massive effort, Alayne swallowed her anger and extinguished the flame. She glanced at Jayme, who had dropped all pretense of watching Malachi, and now stared thunderstruck at her.

Malachi straightened, holding out his hands, waving his thick fingers. “Come on, y’all, we can discuss this. Ain’t no good gettin’ done by us just tossing stuff at each other.”

“There’s nothing to discuss, Malachi,” Daymon growled.

“Oh, I don’t know ‘bout that, pretty boy. Seems to me there’s an awful lot of stuff going on ‘round here that should be knocked right out there in the open. How long you known the girl has the Vale?”

“What?” Alayne spluttered.

Daymon ignored her. “Since Christmas.”

“And why ain’t your family known about it since she’s had it? You meanin’ to say you lost track of it?” Malachi twisted his neck and planted his hands on his hips as he stared down the younger man.

“We never lost track of it. We always knew the general area.”

“But not the specific area?”

“Until Christmas, no.”

“What are you talking about?” Alayne burst out. “I don’t have the Vale. Why in CommonEarth would you think I do?”

Malachi shifted his attention to her. “You’re a Quadriweave,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Alayne glanced at Jayme. He looked thoroughly confused. She wished now she had told him everything as it was happening.

Malachi went on. “You can only be a Quadriweave if you possess the Vale.” His beard split into a grin again. “So what d’you say, missy? Where’re you hidin’ it?”

Alayne was nearly speechless. “But—but the Chairman said there were other Quadriweaves.”

“Ain’t none the world over, and ain’t been for the last sixteen years. ‘Cept you.”

Numbness crept through Alayne’s mind. “Surely there has been more than one Quadriweave in the world at a time.”

“Sure.” Malachi nodded, scratching his beard, though his stance was still wary. “There’s been joint ownership of the Vale before. Two, three, four Quadriweaves, livin’ all over the world. As long as the Vale stays in the possession of one of ‘em, the others can travel all they want to. All it takes is a little blood ritual and shebang, joint ownership.” An idea seemed to seize him. “Say, Alayne, we could own the Vale together, you and me. We wouldn’t have to keep on with this little...” he glanced at Jayme and Daymon, “predicament, and you could get off free as a bird. I don’t take you hostage, I don’t bother your parents none, you just give me a measly little portion of that Vale power, and I’ll be scootin’ on out of here. Shoot, you might not ever see me again. Now how can you beat that deal?” He shifted from one booted foot to the other, impatience tingeing his voice.

“Like this,” Daymon answered. A shriek of wind blew across the ground, edging under Malachi’s boots and rocketing him straight into the air. He cleared the tree tops in less than two seconds, and Daymon sucked the air out from under his body. Malachi was free-falling. Alayne made a wild snatch for the geyser that continued to flow, but Malachi was there ahead of her. It went crazy, changing shape and elongating until, like a whip, it reached out and circled Malachi’s waist, pulling him back to the ground. It dropped him about ten feet from the forest floor. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet.

“Gotta do better than that, Guardian.” He flung his arm over his head and pulled a thick rope of water into a frenzy in the air above him. With a crack, the rope lashed out, striking Alayne across her arm. Her skin split, and blood gushed across her elbow, dripping on the ground.

She stumbled backward, brushing at the wound with her other hand.

But the gaping cut had disappeared.

Malachi’s eyes bugged as he stared at Alayne. His jaw tightened, and he raised his water whip again.

A roar shook the trees around them, and a golden mountain lion leaped from the underbrush near Malachi.

“The lion!” Alayne gasped.

The lion attacked, its entire length reaching as tall as Malachi as it leaned its front paws on his shoulders. Its sharp fangs bared, and it lunged at his neck.

Malachi jerked, and the lion’s teeth mangled his shoulder instead.

Malachi’s geyser whipped sideways, grabbing the lion in its watery grip and whirling the animal around before tossing it into the woods. The cat landed a hundred yards away and lay still.

Alayne gulped down a sob.

Daymon turned and roughly pushed Alayne back into the forest. “Go,” he ordered. “Get out of here. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Alayne heard another shriek of wind coming and she turned to run.

“You too, Cross,” Daymon yelled at Jayme.

Alayne glanced over her shoulder to see Jayme sprinting after her, and Daymon turning to face Malachi alone.

Conscience demanded that she stay and help Daymon fight. Self-preservation won out. She ran through the trees, the branches of hemlocks, oaks, maples, pines slashing at her face. She tripped over a bramble, landing head-first in a patch of ferns, but scrambled to her feet again and ran. She’d lost her sense of direction. Perhaps the school was further east? Were the fire-walkers gone? What had happened to all the students and professors?

Jayme caught up with her. He pressed his right hand against her back and pushed her along. They charged up a hill and crested it. Below a river sparkled in the moonlight. The rush of water toward a rocky overhang spit white spray into the air. Alayne skidded to a stop, her gaze taking in the two-hundred foot drop to the rocks far below.

Glancing behind her, Alayne pulled Jayme down the hill toward the river. “Here,” Alayne gasped. “Let’s rest here.” She stopped at a rock a few feet from the riverbank.

“You think we’re far enough?”

“Daymon can hold him.” Alayne bent, her hands on her knees, struggling to pull in lungfuls of air.

Jayme collapsed, his own breathing slowing already. “Yeah.
Daymon
can hold him.” He looked upset. “Al,
what
is going on? Daymon hates you. You hate him. Did I miss something?”