Divided (#1 Divided Destiny) (17 page)

Nick hefted a small rock and tossed it into the lake, watching the ripples. “Shame Cyrus couldn’t magic us a boat. How deep do you reckon?”

“Deep enough,” Leo muttered. He unclipped his pack and his weapons, then unzipped his tactical vest and shrugged it off. “Stay vigilant. This shouldn’t take long.”

Leo stripped to his underwear, took his knife in hand to dig up the plant, and started to wade into the lake. He screwed up his face in disgust as the mud, or at least he hoped it was mud, oozed between his toes. He was only a few steps in and it was already up to his waist; he really would have to swim. Leo launched himself forward and with sure strokes started to power his way across the lake. It wasn’t far, but he only got a few yards before something tremendously strong wrapped around his leg.

Leo screamed as he was pulled under. He thrashed and kicked to no avail as he was dragged down to the bottom. He tried to twist and see what had gotten him, but its grip was too tight. He stabbed blindly down with his knife; he felt the blade bite into something, thankfully not his leg, and the tight hold loosened. Leo kicked hard, bursting through the surface of the lake choking and spluttering.

“Leo,” Don yelled, but Leo didn’t pause to turn. He managed another couple of strokes closer to the island when he felt movement against his stomach.

Back on the lakeside, Nick swore badly. A large, scaly brown serpent reared out of the water, arching over Leo and wrapping itself around his chest. Leo thrashed and disappeared from view once more.

“I’m going in,” Don growled. He unclipped his weapons, threw off his tactical vest, and kicked off his boots. The vest contained things that shouldn’t be immersed in water, and boots took forever to dry; that was the only reason he bothered to spend the precious seconds removing them.

“There could be more of them,” Nick warned, holding his assault rifle impotently. He hadn’t had a clear shot yet.

“Shoot at anything that moves,” Don snarled, hefting his knife and diving forward into the lake, towards where Leo had gone under.

Leo struggled wildly; he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see. He was being crushed and he was drowning. Bubbles of precious air escaped from his mouth as he stabbed, trying to get the beast to let him go once more. However, his strikes were weak as he lost the battle to remain conscious. His last thought as his vision tunneled and everything went black was that he had failed.

*****

In the murky depths of the lake, Don had to go more by feel than sight. He reached the point where Leo had last been seen, took a deep breath, and dove. He reached down, and his hand encountered smooth scale. He stabbed viciously again and again.

Don’s lungs burned for air, and his eyes stung from the futile attempt to see, but he didn’t give in. He didn’t stop. He kicked and forced himself further down into the lake. The relief he felt when his hand met the cold skin of a human limb rather than scale, along with the lack of oxygen, made him giddy.

He grabbed tightly, his grip harsh as he headed for the surface. Don’s head burst clear of the lake’s surface. He blinked madly, trying to clear his vision, and saw that he’d grabbed a leg, and his heart lurched—Leo wasn’t moving. He reached down and pulled Leo’s head out of the water. It lolled back, utterly unresponsive. Don cupped his arm under Leo’s chin and started to backstroke back to shore.

“Look out!” Nick shouted, firing his rifle just to the left of Don’s frantically kicking legs. Don could feel the bullets pass, whizzing through the water. He hoped they shredded that damn water snake into little pieces.

Don felt the lake under his feet and stood, grabbing Leo under the shoulders and dragging him from the shallows. Don pounded on Leo’s chest. “Come on, Leo, don’t do this,” he begged. He heard another short burst of gunfire but ignored it, his attention solely on trying to revive his best friend.

Nick crouched down next to them, his face a mask of worry. Suddenly, Leo spluttered, water spewing from his mouth. He rolled over to his side and threw up. He coughed, great raspy breaths barking as air hit his lungs once more.

*****

“What the hell was that thing?” Leo croaked.

“I don’t know, but did you see the size of it? I didn’t think snakes could get that big,” Don exclaimed, before he shook his head and laughed. “Although it
was
an alien snake, or eel, or lake monster. Perhaps that was really a baby.”

Nick laughed, and Leo joined in as the relief spread, his laughter quickly turning into a hacking cough as he struggled to take enough deep breaths. His chest hurt. He looked down and was unsurprised to see bruises already starting to form. Leo couldn’t be sure, but he suspected he had a couple of cracked ribs. Hopefully they were just bruised, and he certainly hoped they weren’t broken. He lay back and just relished still being alive.

A few minutes later, he sat up, wincing as the motion pulled across his chest. This wasn’t over yet.

“We didn’t get the plant,” Leo groaned.

All three of them looked at the lake with trepidation.

“I did shoot it,” Nick said hesitantly. “Maybe it’s dead.”

“I stabbed it a few times,” Don added before shrugging. “Of course, there could be more of them.” He looked at Leo. “I’ll go this time, I’m already wet.” He smirked wryly.

Don stepped back into the lake and dove forward, his strokes quick and confident. Leo watched, holding his breath, waiting for Don to be attacked and dragged down. Leo released a shaky breath when Don reached the island. He hauled himself out of the water and, dripping everywhere, padded over to the nearest plant. He cut it from the ground. Holding on to it tightly, Don dove back into the water. Within a minute, he was back on the shore with Nick and Leo, job done.

“There, that wasn’t so hard. Don’t know what you made all the fuss about,” Don teased.

He handed Nick the plant and started to strip off, hanging his clothes over a nearby tree branch. Leo dug into Don’s pack, withdrawing Don’s spare set of fatigues for him. They all carried a set on extended missions like this. They washed them as best they could and swapped between them, drying them by the campfire overnight.

“We’ll make camp here,” Leo decided, his voice hoarse.

His eyes darted to the lake’s surface, which was deceptively calm, with no sign of the hidden danger that had so nearly cost him his life. He felt uneasy, like the serpent might burst from the lake and attack him again at any moment. However, the forest could contain any number of threats. They were in no more danger here than anywhere else; one of them would keep watch at all times. There was no reason beyond irrational fear to move the campground to anywhere else.

“What do you think it does?” Nick asked, curiosity etched onto his face as he looked intently at the delicate plant held in his hand.

“I’m hoping it will be something he needs for whatever spell he’s going to cast in order to find our people, or this was all a waste of our time,” Leo panted, shivering from the gentle breeze against his skin. Wincing, he got to his feet and started to pace. The movement would keep him warm until he had dried enough to get dressed again.

“I thought you didn’t believe in spells,” Don called over. He waggled his eyebrows at Leo’s look of consternation. “Start the fire, Nick. Some of us went for a nice, cooling swim.”

Leo didn’t reply. The water snake made the third challenge on their way to get the moonbeam plant. It could just be coincidence; traipsing around an unknown forest was hardly the safest of occupations. However, his gut told him that there was more to it than that. This had been a test, hopefully a test that they had passed. A trial in three parts. There were many examples in the myths and legends on Earth; three was the magic number for these things.

They had completed their quest, and tomorrow they would return to Cyrus and hand it in. Then they could find their people and truly begin the mission they had come here for: to find something to defend Earth before time ran out.

*****

The next day, the sun was starting to set by the time they reached the clearing that Cyrus called home. The trek back had been miserable. Their luck had finally run out weather-wise and it had rained most of the day, soaking them to the skin. The rain had finally stopped an hour before they reached the sorcerer’s clearing, but finding a dry patch of ground to lay their bedrolls on would be next to impossible.

The last of the sun’s rays bounced on the damp, gleaming white stones that marked the boundary line of his courtyard, separating it from the forest beyond. They were almost at Cyrus’s yard when the man in question emerged from his hut.

“One moonbeam plant,” Leo said stiffly. His ribs were on fire, and the pain was making him short of breath. He had forced himself to keep pace with the others so as not to delay their return, but he was all but ready to collapse.

Cyrus eyed him knowingly, taking in the tightness of Leo’s jaw, the crinkles around his eyes, the sure sign of the agony he was trying to hide. Cyrus took the plant from Nick’s outstretched hand and shuffled back into his hut.

When he returned, he was no longer holding the plant, instead holding a familiar thin wooden dish. He held it out for Leo to take. Leo accepted it gratefully, looking down and seeing the familiar green paste that had healed Nick so effectively. Apparently it worked on all wounds. This time, Leo was taking a sample to see what the scientists on Earth made of it. It wasn’t what they had come for, but it was certainly worth replicating.

Leo unclipped his pack, almost moaning in relief as the weight was taken from his shoulders. Quickly he stripped to his waist, exposing the dark purple bruises that formed a near solid band around his chest. Don took the dish from him and, as he had with Nick, helped Leo apply it. Leo felt the tingling Nick had described and watched as the bruises vanished almost before his eyes. He took a deep breath, luxuriating in finally being able to do so without feeling like he was trapped in a vice. Maybe Cyrus would bottle some of this stuff for them; they certainly seemed to be needing it almost every day.

This instant recovery business was extremely helpful; there was no evacuating back to base for medical treatment. Usually on missions like this, injuries mounted, and if it ran unchecked for too long, it spelled the death of the team, if not the entire unit. Injuries wrecked abilities and confidence and dragged everybody down. They definitely wanted some of this paste stuff; it would save them in more ways than one.

Cyrus pottered around his courtyard, collecting herbs, crushing them, cutting them, and then throwing them in his cauldron, which was still bubbling merrily. Leo’s eyes narrowed as Cyrus made no move to go back into his hut for the moonbeam plant. He didn’t appreciate being used like that, being forced to jump through hoops, but he supposed it was a little like trading favors.

They had gotten the plant for Cyrus, so he would do whatever it was he did in order to find their unit. Leo supposed ultimately that whether Cyrus needed the plant to help them was irrelevant; it had bought his help, and that would have to be enough. The sorcerer had never actually said he needed the plant for their spell; he was infuriatingly vague about everything. They had gone into this with their eyes open.

The only reason Leo even minded, why it rankled at all, was because time was passing. It had been five days now since they had arrived on this world, five days since they had left Earth in the grip of an alien invasion. It almost physically hurt when he contemplated the chaos and the death that was taking place that second while they stood here waiting on an old man to work a magic spell.

“This potion is to find our people this time, right?” Leo demanded, his patience running thin.

Cyrus gave a quiet laugh. “Always running, never stopping moving. You can’t outrun yourself. You can’t outrun your own fears.”

Leo swallowed hard at Cyrus’s casual words. The sorcerer seemed to blink and change personalities, one moment a doddering old fool, the next so chillingly perceptive it felt like he could see into their souls.

Although, Leo supposed it wasn’t too difficult to see their anxiety, or their impatience. It was like a fortune teller at a carnival. They couldn’t really see the future; all they did was cold read the crowd. They threw out a lot of darts, and people didn’t remember the misses—they just remembered the hits. It was just a power play, one designed to impress, to make people believe in the great, all-powerful sorcerer. Leo was determined not to fall for his act, however convincing it was.

“That didn’t answer my question,” Leo replied coldly, clenching his jaw before forcing himself to relax. He wouldn’t let the man get to him; he shouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Almost ready,” Cyrus murmured.

The steam above the cauldron swirled, seeming to reach a point and then draw back down, creating an almost solid circle of steam. Cyrus gave a contented grunt and cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the ripples playing across the steam.

“You know of one, but three more are dead,” Cyrus stated hoarsely.

Leo frowned and shot a confused glance at Nick and Don. He couldn’t see anything; he didn’t understand what Cyrus had done, but the sorcerer seemed to look beyond the steam circle, to someplace they couldn’t follow.

Cyrus continued, “Three are captured. One is cold, oh so cold, another is lost, soon to be no more. Their fates are yet unwritten; choices you must make. The future, I cannot see.”

The steam disappeared in a hiss, almost like the fire had been put out. The water droplets fell back into the cauldron like rain. Cyrus blinked and shook his head to clear it, focusing back on the reality he was in rather than the one he was trying to view.

“I need locations,” Leo said thickly, mentally forcing himself to focus on the five remaining unit members he could still potentially help.

That they had lost another three, taking their total dead to four—one third of the whole unit—was a bitter pill to swallow. Presuming of course that the sorcerer could be trusted, that he was telling the truth about all of this. If he gave them locations, then they could verify it, and hopefully rescue some of their people at the same time.