Eighth Fire (3 page)

He looked at Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young.
They both had scrambled to their feet and were reaching for their
pockets.

Benrah’s right wing swept down and swished
Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young backwards like they were nothing
more than a piece of lint. Mark heard their bodies thud against the
far wall, more than fifty yards away.

Benrah boomed, “Not today...good sirs. I
have...business...with your...young companion.”

It was obvious to Mark that Benrah was
mocking the way Mr. Diefenderfer had spoken for the last fifteen
years as a result of his injuries. Injuries that Benrah’s own
thralls had inflicted on him. Mark got his fingers around a bug
bomb.

Benrah’s heads split apart and the necks
fanned out like a peacock’s feathers. Each head came to bear on
Mark. Benrah’s voice thundered, “If you activate that, I will be
forced to leave, but not before I can kill your friends.”

Mark raised his arm in order to smash the bug
bomb onto the floor. “Go ahead. Nobody dies for good in here.
They’ll be back within three days at the most.” Mark started his
arm moving down to smash the bomb.

“Untrue.”

The small capsule ruptured on the stone floor
causing the water to mix with the other three ingredients: the
dehydrated fish heart and liver, as-well-as the oxidizing agent,
sodium. The fumes were almost immediate, as was Benrah’s
reaction.

In a blur, almost too quick to see, Benrah’s
feet shot straight toward where Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young
were. This was followed by two blended screams, the disappearance
of Benrah, and then silence.

Mark’s heart sank and he cried out, “Are you
alright!”

Silence.

He scooped up a lantern and ran to where he
knew they had to be. Their bodies lay torn and broken. Blood pooled
under their forms and their entrails, torn from the gaping rips in
their bellies, were strewn about the floor.

He sank to his knees and
pounded the side of his fist on the cold stone floor. Tears flooded
his eyes and his nose filled forcing him to breathe through his
mouth. The last word Benrah had spoken echoed in his mind,
untrue
.
What if Benrah was telling the truth? No! It
can’t be! Three days...just three days, and they’ll be
okay.

Mark mustered his resolve and dragged the
bodies back to where Ricky’s body lay.

Three days passed with each hour seeing
another bug bomb hit the floor, but instead of healing, the bodies
were decaying. The overpowering rancor forced Mark to move his
vigil back several feet. There was no doubt in his mind now that
Benrah had spoken the truth. Somehow the healing powers of this
place had vanished.

Mark was halfway back up the ladder when
Benrah’s voice boomed again. “You’re one pigheaded poke.”

Mark almost lost his grip when he scrambled
for one of the few remaining bug bombs.

“Drop it if you like, but sooner or later
you’re going to hear what I have to say.”

Mark dropped the capsule and continued his
climb. “I don’t care what you have to say.” A couple of seconds
later Benrah was gone and Mark reached the door. He fell asleep as
soon as he passed through.

Seven days later he awoke in a hospital bed.
He got up, pulled back the curtain and saw exactly what he
expected. He was in the healing ward. The memories of the most
recent events in the labyrinth played fresh in his mind and his
eyes blurred from the tears.

A lady wearing a white hooded cloak was just
walking up. It was Mary, the same healer that had attended him last
year on his return from the labyrinth.

“I expected you would wake up this morning.
I’ve already sent for a proper North Carolina breakfast, and Mrs.
Shadowitz should be here any moment now.”

No sooner had she spoken than the door to the
healing ward opened and Mrs. Shadowitz entered. She motioned for
one for the guards to pull a table up to the foot of Mark’s
bed.

The guard did as she indicated and she looked
at Mark. Her face was a mask of sorrow. “We need to talk before
your parents get here.”

Mark looked down, swallowed hard, sniffed and
looked back up. A moment later he nodded, walked to the table and
sat down.

Mrs. Shadowitz sat down and leaned across the
table reaching her hands out to him. He slid his hands into hers
and felt the reassurance of her touch.

“No one blames you for what happened. You did
what you felt you had to do. No one can fault you for that.” Mark’s
thoughts were the only known form of communication that could
escape the labyrinth without the use of the staff. Several
counselors had maintained a vigil outside the entrance to the
labyrinth while Mark and the others had been in there which put
them close enough to be able to read Mark’s thoughts. As a result,
everyone knew exactly what had happened in there.

Mark swallowed again and didn’t say anything.
He knew she was building up to ask him something and he had a
pretty good idea what it was. They couldn’t let the bodies just rot
in the labyrinth. They would need a decent burial.

Mrs. Shadowitz was about to say something
else when he decided to speak. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do what?”

“I’ll go back in and recover the bodies.”

Her hands tightened on his and shook with
each syllable when she said, “You’ll do no such thing.”

He hated correcting her but could see no way
around it. “Ma’am, there’s no other option. I’m the only one the
staff works for.”

“You’ll not go back in. We just need you to
hold the door open for the team that will go in.” Her hands relaxed
on his. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

The door opened. Tim and Jeremy walked
through, each carrying a tray of food. They sat the trays on the
table and Tim said, “I do not think you have met Jeremy. He is
Shana’s top apprentice like Shana was my top apprentice.”

Mark slid his hands from Mrs. Shadowitz’s and
extended his right hand to Jeremy. Jeremy’s grasp was firm and it
was quite evident there was a lot of latent power in this man. Mark
had no doubt his hand would be no more than peanut shells in this
man’s fingers had there been cause.

It was obvious Jeremy’s smile was forced.
“I’ve heard good things about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet
you face to face. I do wish the circumstances could have been
better though.”

“Me too. Would you and Tim care to join
us?”

They both looked to Mrs. Shadowitz. She said,
“Give us a few minutes if you please.”

They walked off and she turned back to Mark.
“Benrah is awfully anxious to tell you something. Do you have any
clue as to what that might be?”

Mark’s first instinct was to say he didn’t
care what Benrah wanted to say, but he saw Mrs. Shadowitz was
taking this very seriously. “Ma’am, I honestly don’t know.”

“I think it’s likely you do know, but just
don’t realize it yet. I want you to keep pondering what it may be.
If Benrah wants to tell you something that means he’s desperate
about whatever it is. The sooner we know what it is, the sooner we
can take action.”

The door to the healing ward opened again and
Mark’s family came through the door. His mother, Shirley, ran up,
threw her arms around him and lifted him to his feet. “Oh honey,
I’m so glad you’re alright.” She kissed his forehead and rocked him
back and forth.

Steve said, “You are all right, aren’t
you?”

Mark pried himself from his mother’s arms.
“I’m okay, except two people I cared about are dead because of
me.”

Steve bowed his head and said, “Son, one of
the hardest things for me to learn in the Marines was that
sometimes good people die. It wasn’t your fault. Nobody could have
known what would happen in there.”

James, his older brother said, “You didn’t
intend to— “

Mark cut him off and heard himself angrily
repeating Mr. Thorpe before he could stop. “Intentions have no
substance. It’s action that has consequence. It was my action that
led to their deaths.”

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “Mark, they would have
taken Ricky’s body in there whether you went in or not. Now, you
can either stew in your own self pity or you can pull yourself
together and help us do what needs to be done. Yes, their deaths
hurt us all, but first things first: you need to eat.”

Three bronze colored coffins sat on gurneys
next to the entrance of the labyrinth. Mark walked up and touched
the wall with his staff and the door opened. Tim walked up and
tossed in several bug bombs.

Mark said, “Tim, Jeremy, you’ve never been in
there.”

Tim said, “I was in there with you for a
while through your thoughts while you were in there.”

Jeremy said, “That’s true, but if I ever hope
to understand what you’ve been through, I need to go in.”

A hand poked out of the opening. Mark
recognized Mr. Diefenderfer’s signet. Tim grabbed the arm and
started to pull. The arm pulled away and went back in.

Mark stuck his head through the opening. Mr.
Diefenderfer was bald once again with the same thick scar crossing
his head from front to back, and his eyes were once again black
orbs. Another figure was on the ladder behind him; Ricky Barns, and
another figure behind Ricky; Joseph Young. Only his hair, matted
with dried blood, was stringy white, and hung to his feet as did
his beard.

Mr. Diefenderfer pointed at the coffins
through the door. “We will not...I am sure...be needing those...I
hope...anytime soon.” He looked back at Mark. “Ask Mrs.
Shadowitz...to lean in...if you would.”

All four leaned in through the door. Mr.
Diefenderfer said, “Ricky Barns is...under arrest. Take him...into
custody...and see to it...he is not told...anything about what...we
know.” “You need...to call...an emergency session...of
the...Council of Elders.” He pointed at Mark, Tim and Jeremy. “I
need to...talk with...Mrs. Shadowitz...privately...before I step
out.”

It was just before three in the morning when
Mark was awakened by a knock on the dorm door. He, his parents and
brother had been assigned to the visitor’s dorm rooms pending being
called into the council chamber. Mr. Diefenderfer said there was an
abundance of information to deliberate and he had no idea how long
this session would last. Mark and his family were to wait and would
be called in at the appropriate time.

Mark sat up and said in a rather loud voice,
“I’m up. Are they ready?”

Jeremy spoke from the other side of the
door. “They have taken a brief recess and will be ready for you on
their return in about twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, Jeremy led Mark and
his family into the first floor level of the council chambers and
to the single illuminated spot in the center of the large round
room. Mark remembered how different he felt this time as opposed to
last year on entering this chamber. Last year he hadn’t understood
why he had been brought here and was intimidated beyond belief.
This time, even with the austere setting, it wasn’t as bad.