Matt Archer: Redemption (26 page)

“I thought the Shadow Man would’ve come to me, to gloat,” I’d told Tink while I shaved. “Where is he?”

She’d sounded old, tired.
I don’t know. Most of the time, I can feel his pull. We all can. Now, though, he’s hidden from us. It’s like by taking Mamie, he’s blinded us all.

If the spirits were blind, how could we expect to find her?

That thought weighed me down as I joined the others at the large conference table. Today, instead of being covered by maps, briefing reports and old cups of coffee, the surface was clean.

Starting over. Square one.

I was the last one to arrive, and everyone glanced up when I sat down. Blakeney and Lanningham stood in one corner, both stoic and cross-armed. A vibe of overprotectiveness emanated from them and surrounded my space, a feeling that got stronger as Will took the chair to my right. I hadn’t said ten words to him since we left Billings, but here he was, ready to back me up.

I didn’t know what I’d ever done to deserve any of them, but I knew what I was being given. And I wouldn’t waste it.

Uncle Mike stood at the head of the table and called us to order. “This isn’t going to be easy and I don’t think any of us is fool enough to believe Mamie’s kidnapping was a random act. This is a direct strike, one to stretch us before the final onslaught begins. Four of the five major threats have been eliminated. That leaves one, and he has my niece. We’re going to get her back.”

“Hooah,” Johnson growled. He seethed with a barely contained rage.

“So let’s start with what we know,” Uncle Mike said. “Archer?”

My gut clenched, but I managed to get through the entire story without breaking down, not even when Blakeney bowed his head, or when Ramirez came to stand behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. When I finished, I pulled out Mamie’s discarded note and passed it around.

“This is all we have. The only clue to go on,” I said as the note when hand to hand. “I have no idea what stars to start with though, so if anyone has a theory, let’s hear it.”

“Maybe we should call NASA and see if they have a star chart for her birthday,” Aunt Julie suggested. “Maybe something is encoded into the pattern. They could run some computer simulations for us.”

“Yeah, but would they have one for the precise second of her birth?” I said.

Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe, but we don’t know the precise second. To the minute, maybe, but not the second.”

“This might be kind of hokey, but what about consulting an astrologer?” Ramirez asked.

Thinking of Xing Li, I said, “We already have. He didn’t give us much to go on, and he’s dead now anyway.”

A few more theories were trotted out, and quickly dismissed. I was starting to believe Mamie was gone for good, when Jorge got the note.

He stared at the paper, running a finger over the words. “Who wrote the original coded message?”

“Zenka’s husband, one of the African shamans,” Ramirez said. “I gave their book to Mamie.”

Jorge nodded slowly. “The cave, yes? In Africa?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Describe it for me again.”

“Two pentagrams. One with the single point up, the other with the single point down. The one pointing up was done in white, and depicted the wielders at each point. The other was done in black and showed the prime monsters, including the Shadow Man, who was at the bottom point.”

“‘Look to the stars,’” Jorge murmured. “Your answer lies in Botswana. These people weren’t astrologers, they were people of the land, of the
earth
. This message isn’t about a constellation. It’s calling you back to their caves, to
their
stars.”

Could it be that simple? I took the note back and stared at it. “Do you think that’s what this means?”

“Runs like blood,” Will murmured.

My head snapped up. “What?”

“You told me Zenka said if anyone touched those stars on the cave walls, the paint ran like blood, and the person’s hands burned.”

“Yes,” Lanningham said, nodding. “I remember that.”

“So do I,” Uncle Mike said.

Will locked eyes with Jorge. “Runs like
blood
.”

“The blood of one in particular,” Jorge said, nodding. “Matthew, you have to go to Africa. You have to touch the stars.”

“Wait. She said they’d burn anyone who did,” I said, not daring to hope.

“And that’s probably true of everyone—except the Sentinel.” Jorge turned to Uncle Mike. “Colonel, we need to travel to Botswana as soon as possible. Matthew needs to lay hands on those stars. It’s the only lead we have.”

My uncle stood there, still as stone. I couldn’t begin to understand what he was thinking about. That Jorge’s assumption—and it was just that, an assumption—was nuts? That sending me to Botswana was too big a risk, given the attack on our family? That, like me, he’d lost more than he could bear?

“Sergeant Davis?” he said. “Tell the general to call the Air Force. We’re going to Africa. We need a ride, air support and supplies.”

I was as stunned as Davis, who had to snap his jaw shut before asking, “Sir, yes sir. How many traveling, sir?”

He leveled a cool stare in my direction. “All of us.”

* * *

Seven hours later, as evening fell at Andrews Air Force base, five wielders—each with two support staff except for Jorge—a colonel, and a platoon of highly trained Army Rangers boarded a Globemaster bound for Botswana. The front of the cargo hold had been converted into a passenger area, with seats temporarily bolted to the floor. The back half held crates of ammunition, medical equipment, and tents. A second Globemaster carried our Humvees and—to my complete shock (and grim delight)—an Abrams tank.

“When Colonel Tannen makes a decision, he doesn’t mess around,” Will said, strapping himself into the seat next to mine. “I’m surprised he’s letting us travel together, though. What if there’s a mysterious mechanical failure?”

The other side could do that, we both knew. But I felt in my bones, as did Tink, that we weren’t in danger. The Dark Master
wanted
us to find him. “We won’t.”

Definitely. What fun would it be for him if you all died over the ocean? No, he’s playing with us. That’s the problem with the terminally overconfident. He’ll boast his way to a very painful defeat. And we’ll be ready for him, mark my words.

Tink’s anger meter had been set somewhere between active volcano and supernova ever since Brent’s death and her furiousness somehow balanced my own, allowing me to stay focused. It was like we’d reversed our relationship—she was drawing my rage into herself, instead of bleeding hers into me.

“Still, I’m surprised,” Will said, tearing into a protein bar. Nobody’s appetite was right. While I was hardly eating, Will ate everything in sight. Stress was a strange thing.

“I’m not,” I said. “We’re at the end, Will. The colonel wants the team fully assembled and mobilized at all times.”

Almost like he heard me, Uncle Mike looked up from the laptop he and Julie were studying. Our eyes locked and held. Without words, he told me what Tink had been saying all along: we win this thing, or we die trying.

Maybe both.

It was the longest conversation we’d had since that night in the conference room. In fact, it was longest he’d looked at me since I’d arrived from Billings. It was like my presence reminded him so painfully of Brent and Mamie, he could hardly stand to be around me. I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt, but I understood.

A soldier I hadn’t seen for a while plopped down in the seat in front of me, smirking. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the wonder twins.”

“What’s up, Murph?” I asked, smiling. “Good to see you here.”

“Yeah, the major picked me to be his second out here.” Murphy’s chest swelled with pride, and no wonder. He’d survived Peru, Afghanistan, Africa and D.C. with Ramirez. He’d earned his right to be on this plane.

“I heard a rumor,” he said. “I’m hoping for confirmation.”

Will and I exchanged glances. “Okay. What?” I asked.

Raising his voice to be heard above the dull roar of the plane’s engines, he said, “So, Archer, I hear you’ve finally become a man.”

How long he’d waited to razz me, God only knew. But I loved him for it—we needed some smack talk around here. “Rumor’s true. When’s it your turn, Murphy?”

Everyone within earshot burst out laughing. It was nervous laughter, but I’d take anything to lighten the mood. Even Murphy laughed, his ears turning red. “Yeah, yeah, you got me.”

He held out a hand and I shook it, saying, “I’m really glad you made the trip with the major.”

“Remember, I have your back—and Cruessan’s—too. I’m here for all of you.” With a solemn nod, he took off to sit with a few of the enlisted guys. Good thing, because I had a lump forming in my throat.

Jorge got up from his seat as soon as we were airborne and came to take the empty seat on my other side. Will, being able to sleep in any aircraft known to man, had already dropped off.

“How are you holding up?” Jorge asked.

“About as expected.”

“That well?” He chuckled sadly. “But it’s more than that, I think. Something’s been weighing on you ever since we met up in Europe.”

Even though I wanted to keep what I’d heard in Marrakech limited to a few people, Jorge had a way of looking at me like he already knew all the answers. I found myself whispering the whole thing to him. I told him about Zenka’s insistence that I was the Sentinel, and how I found Mount Sentinel at the University of Montana after Mamie had been kidnapped. I walked him through every detail of my conversation with Xing Lie and Jie-the-demon. I even told him about the man in Marrakech and the Jinn’s message.

“Hmm.”

I sighed. “I get nervous when you say that.”

“It’s a sound I make when mulling things over,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Exactly.”

“I’m thinking about a great number of things. But let’s start with the Bears who kidnapped Mamie, because that’s been on my mind for some time.” Jorge tapped a finger to his lips. “Thus far they are the only—the
only
—monsters to show such compassion.”

“Yes.”

“So, here’s a theory or two. The head Bear, their leader, said they weren’t ‘fed by blood.’ Is that right?”

I nodded. “He said that they weren’t simply out to kill us.”

“Interesting. Because anytime we had an eclipse and more than thirteen monsters showed up, we found evidence of a Nocturna Maura suicide. But not in Peru, nor China or Montana.”

“Right—that’s why there were more than thirteen monsters in Africa and Australia. And why they wanted nothing but to kill everyone around them.”

“But that doesn’t explain this last set of Gators or Pandas. They were equally fierce, if not as many, as the ones you faced in Africa. And much like the monsters in the first eclipse cycle three years ago. Even these new Bears killed two young women in the beginning.” He gave me a keen look, one that told me I had to really listen. “What variable changed the monsters in Montana that wasn’t present in Peru or China?”

The question literally stole my breath. I sat, gaping, as I understood what he meant. “They met Mamie.”

“Indeed,” Jorge said. “
She
changed them. They sensed the same thing we all do: light. Goodness. War begets war, Matthew. In that moment, though, the Bears met peace and realized they didn’t have to kill anymore. That they didn’t
want
to kill anymore.”

“It’s not only because she’s the proxy for light, is it?” I asked. “The Dark Master found out that if he didn’t stop her, she’d be able to turn his armies, given enough time.”

“We can’t know for sure, but I’d like to believe we’re right, and that she can stop the war somehow.” He smiled and leaned his head back. “As to the other thing, the prophecy you heard in Marrakech.”

“Oh. That.” I shifted in my seat, trying to ease the tension in my back. “I’m still trying to figure out the broken and remade part means. I’m worried we’ll lose the spirits when we need them most.”

“Perhaps, but didn’t the old man tell you Jinn can’t be trusted?”

“I thought that was a given.”

Jorge chuckled. “Then don’t worry overmuch about the words, or what they mean. Instead, focus on all the power you have at hand, power that will return your sister to you. Keep faith. Keep hope.”

Yeah. And carry a badass knife.

Chapter Thirty-One

Despite the hurry, it took us nearly a full twenty-four hours of travel to reach Zenka’s village in the Kalahari

At least the map told us it was Zenka’s village.

“Where is everyone?” Will asked, turning in a circle on the field where all the kids had played soccer.

It wasn’t just the people who were missing—every shanty, every clothesline, every scrap of human existence was gone.

Uncle Mike conferred with Davis, then shook his head. “We’re in exactly the right spot. Four different GPS systems say we are.”

The barren red sand, punctuated only by scrubby brush and a few patches of tall grass, added to the lonely deserted feeling. I wrapped my arms around myself. Foreboding—that’s the word I’d use.

“Never thought I’d use an SAT-prep vocabulary word in a place like this,” I muttered. Still, even without Ga-Gorib’s voice chanting death threats directly into my mind like a relentless war drum, the air felt charged with something violent and dark. “Tink? Are we too late?”

It’s more that I think we’re right where he wants us to be.
Her voice was strained.
We should go, before nightfall.

Good plan. It was late afternoon, and I didn’t want to be in the caves without sunlight to fall back on.

“Red team, set a perimeter. If anything’s hiding out there, I need to know,” Uncle Mike was saying. “Wielders, you’re with me and Captain Johnson.”

Lanningham and Blakeney, who’d fallen in at my side, didn’t move. Both had stayed close from the second we landed, and I could tell they didn’t want to be left out.

“It’ll be okay,” I said. “I’m not going far.”

Blakeney frowned at the sky. “This place is crawling. Don’t like it one bit.”