Love Is in the Air (25 page)

Instead of heeding her words, they just pointed up at her, laughing, assuming she was the classic damsel in distress.

Turning away from the fight, Sal ran to Lionel’s side. The professor roused, barely, but enough to resist her efforts to get him on his feet. She really didn’t have time for this.

“Rise!”

His body jerking upright against his will brought Lionel to full consciousness. “What’s going on?”

Sal shoved him toward one of the torture chambers. “We’ve got to find Tyr a better weapon.”

Over the crowd’s cheers, she could hear the beast’s growl and Tyr’s cry. His knife was too short. Before Tyr could do any damage, he needed to let the beast get in too close. Close enough that for each wound he inflicted, the beast returned the favor.

She and Lionel rummaged through the torture chambers and their various weapons, but most were as dull as the heretic’s fork. Then she found a pike. Sal tested the edge. It wouldn’t even cut paper, let alone the beast’s thick hide.

Concentrating, she closed her eyes and poured all her desire into the word, “Sharpen.”

A thrill jangled down her spine, the feeling of biting into the forbidden fruit. So she wasn’t surprised when she felt the edge and found it still dull.

That warped excitement meant her edict was working against the object’s intent.

But it made no sense. The weapon was meant to be sharp. Its intent was to be sharp. So why wasn’t it sharpening?

“Yeah, that would have been impressive,” Lionel said, and then shook his head as though he was trying to clear a hangover. “Not that everything else hasn’t been mind-blowing, but getting metal to obey would have been shocking.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Yuri Geller to the contrary, the structural density and strong molecular bonding of metal makes it a poor candidate for telekinesis.”

So that’s why she felt dirty when she failed to open the boathouse metal lock, but easily could open the plastic window latch.

Fascinating as that revelation was, it didn’t help her with the pike. She needed something with enough structural density to hurt the beast, but not so dense that she couldn’t sharpen it.

A loud cheer drew them both to the window. Tyr must have gotten a good parry in, for a thin line of blood dribbled down the beast’s flank. The crowd chanted for Tyr, but Sal knew, without a much more substantial weapon, exactly how badly this battle would end.

She knew, because she’d seen this uneven match play out before. Tyr’s blood seeping into the Park’s ground. The claw marks exposing his flesh.

Sal closed her eyes against the memory.

Ignoring the fear wouldn’t change the course of battle, though. Sal opened her eyes. If the dungeon didn’t have what she needed, she needed to search elsewhere. Sal looked out the window, scanning the partygoers. Someone had to have brought something she could use.

Then she saw it.

Shoving Lionel out of the cell, Sal urged, “Move!”

CHAPTER 83

Jostling through the brightly colored sea of people in costumes, Sal lost sight of the man she needed. She’d only gotten a brief glimpse of him before he melted into the crowd. He had been tall and dressed in a blue wizard’s robe.

Of that she was sure, but anything else was just a blur.

A collective gasp erupted from the spectators. That couldn’t have been good for Tyr.

Sal darted between a hangman and a crowned lady. It looked like the wizard had gotten bored with the show and was heading toward one of the food tents.

“Where are we—” Lionel started to ask, until he was interrupted by a Crusader. One wearing glasses.

“Dude! What is going on? I rabbited, I mean rabbited, out of that prison and almost ran straight into the water!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sal saw the two professors greet one another, but she was far more worried about where in the hell the wizard had gone. Had he chosen the red or the orange tent?

As she headed toward the red one, Sal had to physically resist turning to watch the battle between the beast and Tyr unfold. Her standing there screaming at the top of her lungs in terror wasn’t going to help. Finding him a weapon would.

Pushing past two jugglers, Sal entered the first tent. The lavishly catered tables held all manner of food, from medieval fare to the best of California cuisine. A platter laden with turkey legs sat next to an arugula salad tossed with baby spinach. Unfortunately, the wizard was nowhere to be found.

Exiting, she nearly ran into Lionel and his friend.

“Exactly what are we doing?” the professor asked.

“Talk to me about bone,” Sal said as she hurried to the next tent.

Lionel seemed confused, but tried to answer. “It’s not nearly as structurally sound as metal, but it’s pretty dense. If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, it won’t work.”

Perhaps, but Sal had more than just science on her side. Entering the dessert tent, she found the wizard standing in line for custard pie.

“Is that real?” she asked, indicating
to
his walking stick.

He seemed a little put off by her abrupt manner, but he nodded. “Yes, it was my great-great-grandfather’s. It’s fashioned from the tibial bone of an elephant.”

Sal tried to tone down her urgency. “Could I take a look?”

The wizard seemed loath to hand it over, but equally reluctant to seem rude. “I… I guess.”

Without hesitation, she took the thick staff and swung it over her head, smashing it down on the table.

“How dare you!” the man shouted.

The bone dented the table but didn’t break. The wizard tried to pull the staff from her grasp. Sal elbowed him back. Whatever sentimental value the walking stick had, it paled in comparison to Tyr’s need. Their need.

Lionel shoved the wizard out of the way. “Its tensile strength is too great. You just can’t generate the torque.”

Maybe her arms couldn’t, but her intent?

“Break!” she yelled as she slammed the bony shaft down again. In her mind’s eye, Sal imagined exactly the fissure line she wanted. She pictured Tyr’s sword before it had shattered. From that image she defined how long and wide she wanted the bony fragment.

Her arms jolted at the impact. When she opened her eyes, Sal found the staff broken in two pieces. The one in her hand tapered, just like a sword.

Now for the hard part. “Sharpen.”

The bone shaft appeared as ragged as before her command, but when she tested it with her finger, Sal flinched. It was beyond sharp.

She felt a moment of guilt as she turned to find the wizard clutching the other half of the stick, clearly distraught. “How could you?”

As a roar filled with deadly intent echoed, how could she not?

CHAPTER 84

“You never should have been able to pull that off,” Lionel panted as they ran toward the battle.

“Move!” Sal shouted to part the crowd, then answered the professor. “It used to be living.”

“Huh?” the Crusader said. She had nearly forgotten he was still tagging along. “Bone is an organic product,” she explained, nearly tripping over a jester. “During the course of a bone’s life, it is used to being remodeled. Even though the bone seems static, the cells within it are constantly turning over the calcium and making micro-adjustments to the bone’s shape. It’s the only way a bone can heal.”

Lionel nodded vigorously. “You know what? The extent was limited, but we did have some success with glass. My assistant postulated…”

Despite her urgency, Sal couldn’t help but register sympathy for the professor. He was talking about Mika. His dead grad student.

Much less enthusiastically, he explained, “She suggested that maybe glass was easier to manipulate than other substances of the same molecular density because it’s basically just melted sand, which is constantly sliding over itself.” Lionel snapped his fingers. “As a matter of fact, glass made from coral sand was much more malleable. It must have been its organic nature. How could I have not seen that?”

Sal didn’t bother to answer his rhetorical question. She had problems of her own. Like how was she going to get this bony sword into Tyr’s hands?

She couldn’t just chuck it at him, as she had done the torch. The beast had too great an intelligence. Which forced her to be smarter. Smarter than she felt she could ever be.

They halted at the edge of the battleground. Both Tyr and the beast had been bloodied. Tyr more, though. She could see in his stance that he was tired. The crowd waved pennants that had been handed out for the jousting tournament, singing gaily as Tyr fought for his life.

Lionel and the Crusader were jabbering away behind her, also seemingly oblivious to the fact that their fate hung in the balance of this clash. She knew the stakes, and was so close to changing the odds, but couldn’t for the life of her think of how to accomplish her task.

Struggling to concentrate, the men’s scientific wrangling became too much. “Silence,” she hissed.

Both professors stood, dumbfounded, as they could no longer speak.

That was it.

Now she just had to hope she had affected herself in the same way the command had in the Park.

“Tyr,” Sal whispered with no sound. He cocked his head as he fought.

“Pretend to fall to your left. Near the crowd. Once on the ground, reach your hand out.”

She wasn’t sure if Tyr understood, or even heard, as he went at the beast with renewed vigor. Feigning and parrying. Using the torch to drive his enemy back. Finally, the beast had enough and leapt at Tyr.

The crowd gasped as Tyr stumbled, falling toward them. He kept the torch high to keep the beast from leaping upon his downed form. Then as he fell, he stretched out his hand.

Into his waiting palm, Sal laid the smooth bone handle. His fingers tightened around the weapon, then for the briefest instant his eyes found hers. Thanks, appreciation, and something more played across his features. Then that smile crept along his lips.

The beast made his move, not quite going for the kill, but to incapacitate Tyr, certainly. Extending himself to take a gouge out of Tyr’s back, the beast left his neck wide open.

CHAPTER 85

Tyr let out a war cry as he lunged the blade upward, slicing through air, then hide, and then the beast’s carotid artery. Blood sprayed across the crowd.

At first surprised, then shocked as they felt the heat of real blood, the partiers froze in place.

Flailing, the beast turned on the crowd, swiping blindly as he reeled away from Tyr. Screams arose as the injuries became apparent. Finally the naïve throng realized this was no show.

A tremor went through the audience. The crowd murmured, and then they broke. Broke and ran. Screaming, yelling, and crying. Sal dropped to the side of one of the less- fortunate patrons.

The knight’s arm had nearly been cut in half. Quickly, she placed a tourniquet above the elbow. Grabbing at anyone who rushed by, Sal pulled a cleric down beside the knight.

“Get him to the boats.”

The robed cleric bobbed his head as he helped the knight up.

“Send the police. With a lot of ammunition.”

To this, the cleric nearly dislocated his neck in agreement.

From the mighty roar, too quickly the beast had recovered. The pumping of his life’s blood slowed to a trickle.

Snarling, the beast turned on Tyr.

“Get him away!” Tyr yelled as he took a blow across the shoulder.

Sal wanted to argue his words. She so desperately wanted to stay, but Tyr was right. They needed Lionel off the island. Once the professor was safely ensconced, she could return. Come back with better weapons. Maybe with Lionel’s help, find a way to best the beast at his own game.

“Come on,” she said to the men, but they were both pantomiming at her. “Speak.”

Their words came out in a jumble, so Sal ignored them as she got everyone running toward the docks.

Finally Lionel croaked out, “How did that brute text me?”

Sal had wondered the same thing up on the third floor, but had bigger issues on her mind. Now, though, it became a real question. There was no way those huge claws could work a cell phone. And Mika had been dead when the text was sent. Had the beast commanded another victim to do it?

But then, how did they have Mika’s phone?

Which brought her to another mystery that had nagged at her all evening. How had the beast gotten onto Alcatraz Island? He was too big, too red, and too smelly to hide on one of the passenger boats.

Sal resisted the horrible realization, but couldn’t fight it for long.

“The beast has—”

She felt the crystal decanter shatter against her scalp. Falling to the ground, Sal finished, “A human accomplice.”

CHAPTER 86

Propping herself up on all fours, blood running down her temple, Sal fought the urge to just lie down. She hadn’t lost consciousness, but neither had she kept her full bearings.

There were shouts, which felt further and further in the distance, or was it her slipping away? The sound of battle had faded as well. The only noise still bombarding her ringing ears was the sound of an argument. Two men.

Men.

Rising to one knee, Sal felt her scalp. A large piece of glass jutted out from her head. Gritting her teeth, she jerked it from her flesh and tossed it to the ground. When the pain finally abated and let her pupils work again, she found the men yelling at one another, a large chunk of decanter still in the Crusader’s hand, pointing at Lionel.

The professor, however, wasn’t backing down. “And you, who bitched about Anikan killing off the young Jedi? How unbelievable it was? You Dark Side-wannabe. I’m so taking you off my friend list on Facebook.”

“This wasn’t a fucking film, Lionel! It was going to kill me! Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t have given me up with that claw at your throat.”

Sal was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation, as her vision tunneled in and out. Nausea rolled over her, threatening to take her along with them. But she was a doctor, and knew that with severe head injuries, the brain assumed that a toxin had caused the damage. It wanted her to purge her stomach. But that wasn’t what happened. She knew better than her autonomic nervous system.