Amazon Queen (17 page)

I didn’t look at the group; whether I had their support or not wouldn’t change what I was about to do. “What are you, Thea? Are you a sheep or are you a wolf? Because I know one thing you aren’t. You aren’t an Amazon; not as I see Amazons. Not as Amazons should be.” I twisted the staff in the dirt and leaned into her space. “So, tell me, are you a blind follower, or are you doing all this for some other reason? For some gain of your own?”

There was another flicker; this time strong enough I knew to duck. Her hand flew out as she grabbed for my staff, but I jerked the weapon behind my head. With my knees bent, I shifted so it fell behind me, the free end dropping into my other hand.

The ground beneath me moved. I had seen Thea in the woods with the sons, but I still wasn’t sure of her powers, wasn’t sure exactly what a battle with her might bring.

Something pushed up against the sole of my foot.

I stood and spun, using the strength of my legs to add speed and strength to my swing as I aimed the staff directly at her head.

Rocks erupted from the ground around me. They were small, none bigger than my fist, but one hit the end of the staff, knocking it off its trajectory.

Thea yelled and the Amazons stood. I realized then who had been given my title, who the new Amazon queen was.

Thea, a high priestess taking the role of queen. It was unheard of.

Warriors I had worked beside, Areto who I had trusted, faced off against me.

They weren’t armed. Weapons weren’t part of a ceremonial fire, but there were four of them, only one of me, and they were well-trained. I had taken care of that myself.

I braced my legs, my staff held out in front of me. I could fight them, I had no choice really, but the odds were also good that I would lose eventually. Still, I’d made my decision, made a stand, and there was no going back.

Areto approached first. I knew her strengths, but I knew her weaknesses too and I had every intention of using them against her. From somewhere a staff appeared. Probably my own left just inside the front door.

I concentrated on that thought, used it to focus my anger as Areto raised the weapon against me. My training, my weapon . . . my tribe. Thea wouldn’t take them from me, not easily.

Areto attacked first. She swung downward; I stepped into her blow, raising my staff from below as I did and smacking it into her groin. It was easy. She had obviously spent more time directing than training. An oversight on my part, I realized, but one that would serve me well now.

Without pausing or giving her time to react, I slid my staff forward and grabbed her hand—the one wrapped around her weapon. Keeping her elbow locked, I used her straight arm and my staff to force her to the ground. I held her, pinned, but I was unsure what to do next.

I could have grabbed her by the neck, twisted and left her broken on the ground, but that wasn’t my goal. Despite her blind following of Thea, I didn’t bear her any ill will—but I had no intention of dying myself either. I seized her by the back of the head and smacked her forehead into the ground.

As I did, two more warriors stepped forward. My staff was under Areto’s body. I leapt to my feet, pulling the staff free as I moved.

Areto remained on the ground, but the others kept coming. I spun and twirled the staff at the same time, going for intimidation more than an offensive attack. I was known for my skill with the weapon and just witnessing how easily I had downed Areto, I hoped the others would back off. Skilled or not, I had no desire to fight them two or even three at a time.

Behind me a truck roared to life, reminding me of the hearth-keepers and Bern. They had been on my side, or it had felt that way, when I approached the circle, but that was before they had heard the high council’s rule.

There was no hope of them following me . . . a traitor . . . now.

Which meant the vehicle revving its motor wasn’t the cavalry, but the last wave of soldiers coming to finish me off.

How do you defeat a charging bull? Divert or avoid.

I pivoted quickly on one foot to get a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of what was happening around me, to see where I was being challenged from.

Lao was behind the wheel of the truck. Tess, the young hearth-keeper, was in the back, clinging to the side of the bed. Bern stood a few feet away, her staff gripped tightly in her hands and a look of deep indecision on her face.

I caught her gaze briefly as I moved. She lowered her head and charged. I still wasn’t sure who she was rushing—me or the other Amazons—and I didn’t have time to worry about it. The two warriors who had moved toward me had found weapons too. One jerked Areto’s staff from under her body and the other caught a sword Sare, who had raced into the house and back out, tossed at her. Thea stood to the side smiling.

It was the smile that sent me over the edge. I didn’t want to fight my warriors; I wanted to fight the priestess who thought she could take my place.

I held my staff in both hands perpendicular to my body, bent my knees into a squat, and rolled head to feet. The warriors didn’t see the move coming. They thrashed at the spot where I had been, then cursed.

I rolled three times before popping back onto my feet squarely in front of Thea.

Her attention was still on whatever was happening behind me. “Kill her!” she yelled.

Focused on my intended target, I didn’t pause to think who she meant or what might be happening behind me. I lifted my staff and prepared to smash it into the side of her skull.

She looked back at me before I had the chance. She lifted her hand and a knife flew from the ground into her palm. My heart skipped, but I pushed my shock aside. She’d revealed a power, one I had never seen before, but she was also armed now, and the blade in her hand was my most immediate threat.

She lunged toward me. I sidestepped, lifting my staff as I did and whipping the far end to strike her across the eyes. As the force sent her backward, I lashed the staff behind me and swung again, this time targeting the back of her knees. She fell and I pounced forward, intending to pin her and end this farce, but her hand lifted and the knife she held flew toward me—not thrown by the strength of her arm. I had her in a position where that was impossible. The blade was sped and guided by something I couldn’t see . . . or perhaps I could . . . Thea’s eyes were focused like lasers and her lips moved in some unending chant. She was calling on some power I had never seen before, doing something I didn’t even realize was possible. She was moving objects with her mind.

I darted to the left, but the blade struck my thigh. It was short, probably only six inches long from tip to guard, but it still hurt . . . more than it should have.

With the knife sticking out of my body, I recognized it: a kitchen knife probably in the items brought back from the market by the hearth-keepers. I grimaced and reached up to grab the handle, to pull it free. Under my hand it began to twist, as if some invisible being held the handle too and was trying to twirl the blade sheathed in my thigh.

Thea stared at the knife, her face dispassionate but her intention clear. With my left hand I lifted my staff and smashed it across her face. Then, my chest heaving, I dropped the staff onto the dirt.

The chanting stopped. The twisting stopped. I jerked the blade free and stood over the high council’s chosen queen. If I plunged the blade into her heart while she was queen, there would be no going back. I would be like Mel, cut off from the tribe forever. Except Mel was happy with her decision; she would never ask to come back.

How would I feel?

The knife’s handle was slippery from my blood or sweat. I wasn’t sure which.

Thea’s head was turned to the side; she didn’t know she was about to die.

I started to squat; my lips were dry and my hand shook, but I knew I could do it. Knew she would continue to fight me, to lie to my own tribe about me. There was no choice. My time with the Amazons was over; my life as I knew it was over. Why not take the person who took it from me out too?

The knife gripped tightly in my hand, I lifted my arm.

A grunting snarl caused my head to raise. Jack in his wolverine form dashed toward me. I barely had time to register what was happening before he struck me in the chest. I fell backward, the knife still in my hand. Around me a full battle erupted.

Bern spun and jabbed with her staff, holding off the warriors who had first rushed me. The hearth-keepers’ truck was parked beside the fracas, the doors open and the engine running. Sare, armed with a short knife she used when carving totems, was fighting with Lao. The hearth-keeper, armed only with the hard plastic lid of a cooler, swung double-handed and smacked the artisan in the side of the head.

When Lao saw me, she motioned to Tess. The younger hearth-keeper jumped behind the wheel and gunned the engine.

I realized then we were leaving, or at least the others were planning to leave.

But leaving meant giving up, deserting the camp that had been my home for over ten years.

I couldn’t do it.

I shoved Jack off of my chest and stood. Immediately the son was beside me, naked and in his human form.

He grabbed me by the arm. “Don’t be an idiot. The battle is bigger than this.” He motioned to the Amazons still fighting. “We need you. Your tribe needs you.”

My tribe. Were they my tribe? They didn’t seem to think so.

I stared at him, denying the angry tears I could feel forming at the back of my eyes. I blinked and shut down the response. I had never cried in my life; I wasn’t going to do so now.

Back under control, I glanced at the two Amazons still fighting with me, for me. Lao, a hearth-keeper well past her prime, and Bern, an outcast warrior. Then there was the wet-behind-the-ears hearth-keeper shaking like a newborn rabbit in the truck.

My own personal army of misfit toys.

Jack leaned close, until his lips were pressed against my ear. “Sheep go to slaughter. Don’t be a goddamn sheep anymore, Zery.”

I jerked my arm free, picked up my staff, and jumped into the fray. Taking unfair advantage of the warriors’ focus on Bern, I smacked one in the back of the head with my staff. As the other stumbled, unsure what to do, I gestured for Tess and the truck. She roared into the middle of the fight. Bern and I jumped into the back, jerking Lao in after us, and Tess hit the gas.

The mother dog had been curled up on an old feed sack in the corner with her two healthy puppies. She belly crawled closer and I stroked her head as Tess wheeled the vehicle in a sharp U-turn.

In seconds we were thundering down the thin drive. Behind us Jack held up one hand, then shifted. In his wolverine form, he gave a last snapping growl at Sare, who still held her blade, and dashed into the woods.

My hand stroking the dog’s head, I stared blindly at the disappearing house.

I had done what I thought I never would. I had left the tribe.

As the truck turned
onto the highway, I think we all realized we had nowhere to go. Tess yelled at us through the open sliding window.

“Where to?”

The puppy I’d been afraid was dying poked his head over her shoulder. He looked weak, but still alive.

All eyes turned to me.

There was really only one answer. “Madison.”

Tess’s eyes met Lao’s in the rearview mirror, but the older hearth-keeper just nodded her head. “Back to Madison, but I think we may have a stop to make first.” She looked at me. “Is that right?” She tapped on the truck with her palm.

I realized then what she was saying. We couldn’t drive to Madison sitting in a truck bed. We needed a new, bigger vehicle—or at least a second vehicle.

After a brief discussion, we opted for the second.

We pulled into a truck stop and let Lao out. It hadn’t taken much talk to decide Bern and I stood out too much for the job.

But who would suspect a woman who appeared to be in her sixties of boosting a car?

We kept busy by driving down the road a bit and lifting a set of plates off a sedan parked behind a garage. The thing was smashed in completely on the passenger’s side, but the plates were perfectly fine, and since the shop was already closed for the day and would stay closed tomorrow, Sunday, we had until Monday before anyone noticed—if they noticed then.

With the plates dusted off and ready to install, we drove to our meeting place, a country cemetery visited by more cows than people.

Lao drove up in a dark blue two-door. The back was loaded with boxes.

Standing next to the vehicle, Lao said, “Salesman. Looks like a company car.”

I nodded. Jack had been wrong about us . . . at least the Amazons under my command. We did think about how our stealing affected our victims. Didn’t mean we never hurt someone, but we weren’t totally callous about others either. If we could choose between leaving a family stranded at a truck stop and a lone salesman? No contest.

“What’s he selling?” Hopefully it was nothing that would bring too much heat down on us.

Bern reached in the backseat and ripped into a box. “Looks like toys.” She pulled out a squishy frog that lit up when you squeezed his stomach.