Recruits (Keeper of the Water Book 2) (41 page)

Big mistake. Mentioning our father sends him into a fury, his eyes widening with rage. If he was tired before, the mention of our father gives him a second wind. He darts forward and lowers his shoulder into my stomach before I can move out of the way. The wind is knocked out of me and he follows it up with an elbow to my jaw that leaves me in a daze. John tries to crawl over to protect me but Jack makes him pay, kicking him so hard in the gut that John nearly falls over the side of the boat.

“Don’t hurt him!” Isabella yells, the sound of her shrill voice cutting through the fog building in my mind. “Do anything you want to the girl but you better not lay another finger on
him!
”

“Maybe you should come down here and stop me instead of going back on your word,” Jack snaps at her. “Maybe this will give you a bit more incentive.”

I lift my head enough to see Jack leap atop the pilot’s seat and reach into the shattered fan cage. He pulls out a sharpened metal shard of broken fan and jumps toward us. Too late I realize he’s coming toward me but John responds quicker, pulling himself in front of me. Jack tries to pierce my heart but stabs John instead. I feel John’s body go limp atop me.

“No!” Isabella yells from atop the buggy. The sound of her despair begins to clear the haziness in my head, as does John’s grunt of pain. He’s badly hurt and unless I want to lose him again I need to fight through the pain. A great weight is lifted off me as Jack pulls John to his feet.

“Nobody tells
me
what to do either,” Jack yells up to Isabella just before he throws John overboard.

I crawl to the edge of the airboat and look over the side where John just splashed down. At first I see nothing but rippling water, his body disappearing into the swamp’s murky depths. But soon I spot another watery ripple in the distance and hope that he’s swimming away, that he’s not hurt so badly and will be able to escape with his life. Then the green scales of a gator emerge from the water just before disappearing beneath the surface next to the boat.

“John,” I whisper desperately.

I already wrestled one gator today and have no hesitation about trying again. But my body doesn’t react as quickly as I want. Before I can climb out of the boat, the water explodes into a cloud of crimson. My insides sink and Isabella unleashes an ear-splitting cry of equal parts despair and rage.

“Why don’t you come down here and I’ll make sure you join your
true love
in hell!” Jack yells.

I don’t know what pisses me off more – that Jack just threw John to the gators or that he referred to him as
Isabella’s
true love. Either way, a blast of adrenaline surges through me, much as it does within Isabella. I look up at the swamp buggy and see Celeste stopping her daughter from leaping down. Nobody is in the airboat to hold me back, though.

I feel strong, but soon learn that’s only an illusion of my anger. I try to attack Jack when his back is turned but I’m not as successful as I wanted. He shrugs off several of my weakened punches and knocks me down again. I focus on my breathing – in and out, in and out – because that’s just about all I can do. Darkness begins to creep across the corners of my eyes but I still see Jack reach into the fan’s cage again, where he pulls out another dagger-sharp piece of shrapnel.

“It’s been nice knowing you,
sister
,” he growls down at me.

I put my hands up, a final useless means of defense against the young man who’s only alive because of me. But I don’t feel fear at this moment. It might be strange but all I think is at least my death won’t be as horrific as John’s. I will die with the only love of my life, a fact that brings a wave of calmness over me, even as Jack’s twisted face appears right above me…

The next few seconds pass in a blur, as my foggy brain registers three distinct sounds in less than a second. First is the cry of a woman’s voice to stop, not that Jack plans on listening to
any
command given by an Amazon, especially from Celeste. My head is turned away from the swamp buggy so I can only imagine Isabella watching intently, hoping that Jack plunges the projectile through my heart. But the next sound I hear is a familiar
whoosh
followed immediately by a heavy
thud
. I sense the blur of movement nearby but it’s the look in Jack’s eyes that makes me realize what happened. Gone is the murderous rage, replaced instead by confusion and wide-eyed shock.

An arrow sticks out of his chest. He drops the piece of shrapnel, which falls straight toward me. Somehow I find the energy to snap my head a few inches to the left, barely enough to avoid being impaled. Jack staggers a few steps before collapsing. My strength returns as his wanes and I sit up just in time to see him trying to yank the arrow from his chest. But he’s not nearly strong enough to budge it, especially since the tip of the arrow pokes out of his back. It was an incredible shot by whoever took it, a shot that would’ve killed a normal man before he hit the floor; I couldn’t have done it better myself. But Jack – fueled by equal parts rage and special water – dies much slower, suffers much greater agony as life slowly drains out of him. No matter how strong he is or how much water he’s ever consumed, some injuries cannot be survived and this is one of them.

Who could’ve taken such a shot? I think of the arrow that Isabella held for protection. She’s a surprisingly strong girl and good fighter but I recall the Queen Clan never allowing me to give them shooting tips. I turn and look up at the swamp buggy, where Isabella still glares at me, arrow in hand, probably disappointed that Jack wasn’t shot a few seconds later. Isabella shrugs off Celeste’s grip, the older woman still holding her back from attacking Jack. But Celeste pays no attention to her daughter and instead looks into the distance.

Again I hear the answer before I see it. The loud whining of another blowing fan resonates across the swamp and I turn to watch another airboat approaching. I’m shocked to see my mother in the pilot seat – tentatively driving the boat forward – but not so surprised to see Amelia perched at the front, bow in hand.

My best student.

“You always have to be careful because you never know when your next shot can be your last,” Amelia says as they get closer.

My adrenaline vanishes like the water of a receding wave. I sit in the airboat and breathe a deep sigh unlike Jack, whose breaths come in short gasps. He’s too stubborn to just die already but I’m certain that’s a battle he will soon lose. A wounded animal is often at its most dangerous but the color has drained from Jack’s skin as quickly as the blood from his chest. He doesn’t even have the strength to lift his sagging head. But when I feel a bump against the boat, I snap to attention, ready to push the arrow even farther into his chest. Jack hasn’t budged, though, and I quickly realize it must be the killer in the water. I have a sudden urge to dive into the swamp and kill the gator but it’s ludicrous to seek revenge on an animal.

The second airboat slows and bumps lightly into mine. Amelia and my mother jump into this boat, my recruit aiming another arrow at Jack’s downed form in case he budges. In a rare display of affection, my mother hugs me tight – her arms feel much stronger than I remember. I mutter to her that I’m okay but she appears on the verge of tears as she gently touches the bruises on my face. I feel my shell of toughness beginning to crack.

“Awww, isn’t that sweet?” Isabella says from atop the swamp buggy. “Us two daughters surviving this ordeal with our
mothers
by our sides.”

“She remembers everything,” I whisper to my mother and Amelia.

Mom can’t hide a gasp of fear and the muscles in her arms suddenly lose their strength; it feels like two rubberbands are now wrapped around me. She looks up at Isabella and recoils the way a child would upon seeing a ghost. This must be the moment my mother has been dreading for years. Amelia also turns her attention to the leader of the Queen Clan and the two exchange sneers of contempt.

“Another
traitor
to the Amazons and the Keeper of the Water,” Isabella growls at the former pilot.

Amelia doesn’t back down, though. “
You
were the one who forced us into taking extreme action.”

This triggers another memory but I no longer have the mental strength to stop my mind from returning to the past…

Queen Isabella – now
Keeper
Isabella – smiles at me evilly despite my bow still being aimed at her heart. I’ve never felt such anger in my life but we
both
know there’s nothing I can do about it. I slowly lower my bow and turn to the Amazons surrounding us – most of them
my
allies – who are ready to kill me at the first sign of danger to their new Keeper.

“Lower your weapons,” I order the rest of the women.

I’m no longer their Keeper – technically no longer an Amazon at all – so they don’t have to listen to a word I say. But every weapon – every bow and spear and sword and club – is lowered and now it’s Isabella’s face that twists in rage.

“Don’t just stand there!” she yells at the women. “Kill her! She tried to kill the Keeper and she must pay!”

Catherine the Great raises her twin swords and a few other queens follow suit, determined to comply with their Keeper’s order. But the rest of the Amazons turn their weapons on the Queen Clan, who are outnumbered by more than two to one.

“Don’t just stand there!” Isabella yells, her voice echoing throughout the jungle, which suddenly comes to life with the sound of growling predators. The brightness of the water pulsates in unison with the new Keeper’s anger. “Kill her!”

She screams at her queens, not seeming to care that following her orders would lead to their certain demise.

“A true Keeper would not want to perpetuate such violence,” Jane Austen says calmly.

“Kill her, too!” Isabella yells, pointing to the author, rage blinding her to how crazy she’s acting.

But not even Isabella’s queens budge this time. The muscles in her face relax and she slowly shakes her head in disgust while looking at the queens. When she speaks again, her tone of voice is icily calm.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

She’s on me in an instant, throwing punch after punch. As I learned earlier, she’s a much stronger fighter than I expected and her strength has only increased since becoming Keeper. My natural instinct is to fight back – an instinct I’d
love
to follow right now – but I can’t risk injuring the Keeper. Instead I absorb a beating for the good of the water. It’s not long before Isabella forces my head beneath the surface.

The last time my head was held under this water, I emerged as the Keeper; this time I’ll be lucky to make it out alive. I begin to thrash and try to pull away but Isabella has a tight grip. Seconds feel like hours. It’s not long before I hear splashing and the garbled sound of Isabella’s shrill voice.

“Get back! I’m in charge now!”

I can hold my breath no longer and when I try to take a breath I ingest only water; not only can it give life but it can also take life away. The irony isn’t lost on me that I may die in the same water I’d been totally focused on for so many years. Blackness creeps into my vision but before I pass out, I feel Isabella yank so violently at my hair that I’m pulled clear of the water. My scalp explodes in pain but she soon lets go and I’m able to cough my way through several deep breaths.

“I am the Keeper –
your
Keeper! You must do as I say or I will banish you all!” Isabella screams maniacally.

The sound of her voice enrages me but I feel better seeing that several of my recruits have subdued her. Isabella tries to break free from Harriet’s grip but that’s easier said than done; not even Catherine tries to step in to help the Keeper. The Amazons drag her out of the water, leaving me as the only one standing in the glowing spring. The women all look to me as they did only hours ago and I allow myself a moment to forget about what was taken from me. But things
aren’t
the same, they never will be. I don’t see and feel the world around me as I did before.

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me from being Keeper,” Isabella says, yet not as loud with Harriet’s vice-like hand clamped to the former queen’s arm.

Isabella is right, as much as I hate to admit it.

“Tell them about your plans for using the water,” I say. Isabella hesitates and with good reason. “Come on, they’re your protectors. They have a right to know your intentions.”

I hear the
snapping
of a tree branch coming from the jungle. I figure it’s only my granddaughter, though the noise doesn’t exactly come from where I left her. Someone is out there but the rest of the Amazons are too focused on Isabella to notice.

“Well?” Harriet asks, trying to shake an answer out of her.

“I will unfold my plans as Keeper over time but only to the women of this tribe,” she says coolly. “But might I remind
all
of you that Sacajawea is no longer part of us since she’s voluntarily left her position.”

Isabella remains stone-faced as she says this, probably to avoid Harriet from ripping her arm off. I suddenly hear the shrill laughter of glee that can only belong to Isabella yet her mouth is closed. I spin around and look for who could so perfectly mimic her but I see nobody laughing. In fact, none of the Amazons react to the sound of laughter and I wonder if I only hear the sound in my mind. I shake away the thought of my enemy’s voice somehow existing only in my head.

“She plans to continue working with the men that kidnapped my granddaughter,” I tell the group. “Together, they plan to use the water as a weapon to take over the world.”

It’s the worst possible scenario and based upon the shocked expression from the Amazons, I can see the others agree with me. All eyes are turned on Isabella, worried eyes that hope she will dispel the dreadful accusations I’ve made.
I
even hope she’ll tell me I’m wrong, that she lied to the men to get them to help her ascend to the Keeper position. Leaving the Amazons will be the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do but it might be slightly easier if I know the women and the water will remain hidden forever…

But Isabella doesn’t bother denying the truth. Her eyebrows raise slightly, her lips curl into a half smile and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Those of you who remain loyal to me will be protected when I become Earth’s new ruler,” she announces. “I will need trusted generals to help me rule, women with whom I share a connection. If you swear your allegiance to me, each of you can become more powerful than you ever imagined.”

Catherine the Great clashes her swords together several times as a sign of respect for her leader. Several others queens join in – it’s not surprising that these once-powerful women would lust for a return to the spotlight.

“It’s time to use the water to our advantage instead of hiding it away in the most remote place of the world,” she continues. “We will start a brand-new chapter in humankind’s history, one that we’ll write on our own.”

It’s obvious that Isabella truly means every word she says. But most of the Amazons – myself included – shake their heads in disagreement.

“You’ve let your relationship with men taint the vision and purpose that this tribe has carried out for centuries,” I say. “You have broken every rule and oath that protectors of the water stand for. If you are left in the role of Keeper, you will surely destroy not only the water but the entire world.”

“What should we do with her?” Amelia asks.

“You do as Amazons have
always
done,” Isabella says, finally pulling away from Harriet. “You
listen to your Keeper
. Now kill Sacajawea!”

Still nobody makes a move to follow her order so Isabella tries to grab Harriet’s club. Her freedom lasts only seconds and my recruits converge and detain her again. The new Keeper continues to yell but my recruits and the rest of the Amazons look toward me for guidance.

I wish there were an easy answer. Obviously we can’t kill her and a Keeper can’t be forcibly removed from her role. I
could
track down Isabella’s men and threaten their lives the same way she threatened my granddaughter but I could never bring myself to sink to her level. Besides, I doubt Isabella cares enough about
anyone
to make the type of personal sacrifice that I did. Maybe we could imprison Isabella far away from the water and wait for her to die of natural causes – which technically wouldn’t be killing her – but I know she wouldn’t stop until she broke free and returned to the water, not to mention what Catherine or some of her other queens might do to rescue her.

If there was only a way I could make her much older so she dies naturally sooner… or if there was a way I could make her forget everything she knows…

For some reason my initiation into the Amazons comes to mind, the way some of the past was foggy in my mind during those moments after I first drank the water. My first mentor explained that the Keeper distributed the water in limited quantities to prevent Amazons from becoming too young, which could lead to unpredictable memory loss.

That’s it! I can make Isabella forget but not by becoming older… by becoming younger,
I surmise.

This plan doesn’t come without concerns. I glance around the surrounding jungle where we’ve been for many years. For my plan to work, this area will have to stay remote for at least the next hundred years since no Keeper will be around to move the water source. The rainforests are being cut down at an alarming rate, something I noticed while returning from my last recruiting trips decades ago. But we’re still located in the center of the jungle, far away from those lands most in danger of being torn down. Besides, our
other
option – letting Isabella rule as Keeper – is
much
worse…

“Let me go now!” the Keeper continues to scream. “I’ll remember each of you and I
swear
you’ll pay for your betrayal one day!”

Isabella doesn’t even relax when Harriet handles her more roughly. I cup my hands together and dip them into the cold spring, scooping out much more water than a single Amazon should ever consume. I carefully carry it toward Isabella, whose eyes go wide. When a few drops trickle through my fingers and land on the ground, tall grasses suddenly sprout up.

“Drink,” I order her.

Isabella sneers at me with utter hatred and refuses to budge. Amelia and Mary grab the back of her head and push her face toward the water but Isabella shrugs them off.

“I’ll do it on my own,” she snaps at them.

My two recruits look to me and I nod my head. They release Isabella, whose glare tries to burn a hole through my heart. But she drinks anyway, taking several deep swallows before standing up straight. In an instant, years melt away from her face and the muscles in her bare arms tighten. Nobody in the tribe has been given water in several years and we’ve suddenly made Isabella the youngest and strongest of us all. She begins to resist and even Harriet has trouble restraining her. Mary and Amelia try to grab hold again but Isabella easily tosses them aside.

“She’s becoming too strong to restrain,” Jane says worriedly.

“This is my punishment?” Isabella asks me as Harriet struggles to hold on. “Maybe you
wanted
me to use the water to gain power but were too afraid to do it yourself.”

But I scoop out even more water from the spring and shove it in Isabella’s face. Amelia grabs the back of her head again and pushes it into the water, giving our new Keeper no other choice but to drink. And drink she does. The way she chugs the water is almost defiant in nature, as if she refuses to fight anymore. She quickly morphs into a much younger version of herself, changing from her early 20s and through her late teens. Not only does some of her baby fat begin to reappear but the muscle tone in her arms and legs softens and she begins to shrink.

By the time Isabella’s done drinking the second scoop, she can’t be more than twelve or thirteen years old. She’s more than a foot shorter than Harriet and suddenly looks confused, like she has no idea where she’s at or what she’s doing or who the people are around her. But the sneer still remains on her face and she looks even
more
disgusted to see Harriet holding onto her.

“You will release me at once, peasant!” she orders the black woman holding her. Isabella’s voice may be higher-pitched and more childish but if possible, it contains an even stronger air of smugness and authority. “Where am I? You can’t treat a princess like this – don’t you know who I am?”

The young Isabella is confused and clearly frightened but tries not to show either emotion. Catherine the Great steps forward and several of the Amazons block her way. But her twin swords are not raised and there’s a look on her face I never expected to see: concern.

“What’s happening to her?”

“This is why we’re never given more than a sip of the water,” I tell her. “Too much will make an Amazon so young that it will take away her memory. In this case, that’s exactly what we want.”

My recruits are gentler with the younger version of Isabella but still force her to drink. She becomes younger and younger – smaller and smaller – until she’s consumed the third large scoop of glowing water. Standing in front of us is a girl of about five, her Amazonian clothes dangling loosely off her tiny body. The tension among the tribe has eased at the sight of the young girl; it’s been years since most of the women have seen a child. I’m surprised how
I’m
affected by the child’s presence, the way my maternal instinct has suddenly kicked in. I can’t stop from thinking of my own daughter at this moment.