Salem's Revenge Complete Boxed Set (85 page)

Hex

T
he cave is empty.

“I swear they were here,” the girl, Chloe says, her voice rising.

A few moments ago when Hex placed his paw on her head, he could see this place. And then, because he wanted them to go here, they disappeared from that other place and came to this place. This empty, empty place that smells of earth and moisture and bat droppings and something very, very curious strewn on the ground. Hex sniffs at them. Slugs, he realizes. Overcooked. He slurps one down.
Not bad
, he decides, gobbling another.

“Not here now,” Grogg says, showcasing his freakish flexibility when he raises a foot to his mouth and starts sucking on his largest toe.

“They were held by these,” Chloe says, plucking a glowing band from the ground.

Hex trots over to sniff it. “Laney,” he barks.

“Where are they?” Chloe wonders aloud.

“We can see in old Master’s head,” Grogg says. “Grogg can do it for you.”

Hex drops onto his haunches and then springs off, pouncing on the mud troll and pinning him to the floor. “Not that,” he barks. “Too risky.”

Grogg disappears beneath him into the earth and Hex runs around in a circle looking for his friend, who reappears behind Chloe, using her as a shield. “You don’t trust us,” Grogg says, pouting. “You think Grogg is still bad.”

Hex peers at him between the girl’s skinny white legs, trying to calm the giddy urge he has to leap at him. “You were never bad,” he barks. “None of it was your fault. You were weak, and now you’re strong.”

Grogg tucks his extended lip back into his mouth, chewing on it until it breaks off and slides down his throat. “Grogg is strong,” he says slowly, as if trying out the words.

“You are very strong,” Chloe says, agreeing. “We’re survivors. That’s what Laney said. And survivors act even when they’re scared.”

“Let’s go,” Hex barks.

“You understand his barks, don’t you?” Chloe says to Grogg.

“Yes, we do,” Grogg says. “Woof-woof wants to go.”

“There are Shifters everywhere,” Chloe says, rubbing Hex’s head. It feels so good when she scratches behind his ears that he can barely focus on what she’s saying. He ducks away and regains control.

“We can be invisible,” Hex barks.

“Invisible,” Grogg says. “Yes, invisible is good.”

“Invisible? How?” Chloe says. Hex chuffs, because this girl doesn’t know him that well yet.

“Because I want us to,” he barks, even though she won’t understand. Showing her is better anyway.

And then they are. They’re invisible.

Laney

“D
id you hear that?” Bil says, sounding alarmed.

“No,” I say, for the tenth time. I swear Bil seems to “hear something” every five steps. “And stop squeezing so tightly.”

We waited a while before creeping out of hiding. After a few minutes of searching, we managed to locate the main tunnel leading away from the underground stream. I could smell gorilla B.O. so I knew we were on the right track. Since then, we’ve followed the same tunnel for at least ten minutes, hoping it’ll lead us out of the caves.

“I hate the dark,” Bil says, but thankfully he relaxes his grasp.

“And yet yesterday you ran off into the dark in the middle of the night,” I say.

Bil goes silent. As usual, I’ve stabbed where it hurts the most. Why do I always do that? I get no pleasure from hurting other people’s feelings. Well, I might get
some
pleasure, but I usually feel bad about it later. “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean it. I know you can’t control when it happens.”

“Yes I can,” he says, surprising me. He sounds more than a little sheepish.

“What do you mean?” I say, probably a bit too sharply.

“I—I’ve done it before,” Bil admits. “I’ve felt the…mania coming on, and I’ve fought off the darkness. Last night was too much though. I was too weak. I wanted anything to take away the pain, to make me forget what Martin Carter told us.”

Although it kills me that if Bil had only been stronger we wouldn’t be in this position right now, I can’t help feeling bad for him. Damn soft heart of mine. I’ll have to eat more slugs so it’ll harden again. “It’s not your fault your mother was a lunatic power-hungry witch-bitch,” I say. “My parents were flame-wielding pyromaniac daughter-killers. So it sucks to be both of us.”

“You’re not angry?”

I might be a little angry. “Not really,” I say. “You can make it up to me by not squeezing my hand into human pulp.”

“That I can do,” Bil says.

“Wait a sec.” I stop and listen. “Did you hear that?”

“Very funny,” Bil says.

“Shh!” I hiss, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I’m serious.” There’s definitely sound echoing through the dark of the tunnel.

“I hear it, too,” Bil whispers into my ear.

Voices. Shuffling. Movement of some sort. And then:

Light.

Orange flames flicker around a bend in the tunnel as vision is suddenly returned to us. It’s human nature to want to move toward the light, but in this case the light will likely kill us. “Run!” I urge, twisting around and bolting in the opposite direction, feeling along the wall frantically to avoid crashing into the hard stone. Our footfalls are loud, like echoing explosions in the silence of the tunnel, and soon there are shouts when whoever was carrying the torches realize their prey is escaping.

The wall falls away on one side but I’m moving so fast it’s another five steps before I can skid to a stop, bracing myself for the impact of Bil crashing into me from behind, which he does, nearly toppling me. “A side tunnel,” I explain quickly, manhandling him back to the gap in the wall. Just as the flickering orange light rounds the bend behind us, preceding the shouts and heavy footsteps, I yank Bil into the gloom and retreat backwards, keeping my eyes on the main tunnel.

Forms race past, illuminated briefly by bright haloes of orange flames. Not torches, I realize, as I notice how the fire seems to burn directly on their skin. Pyros. There’s a crackle of electricity, like a horizontal lightning strike. Volts. The Shifters have allies, I realize, my heart sinking. Once more, the magic-born’s desire to destroy all of humanity temporarily supersedes the hatred between opposing witch gangs.

Could this get any worse?

I get my answer a moment later when the last of the light and forms streak past, the sound of their footsteps retreating into the distance. Abject darkness creeps back in, and I’m almost glad for it this time. The darkness feels safer than the light somehow.

Until a rough voice whispers in my ear, that is. “Look what the cat dragged in.” Unless Bil Nez has a hidden talent for doing voices, we’re not alone.

A scream rises in my throat as claws sink into my back, scraping along my flesh, opening it up like paper separated by a shredder.

Instinct takes over, and although I’m no Shifter and don’t have the ability to transform into a wildcat, I fight like one anyway. Using my heel like a firing piston, I stamp down hard behind me, crunching down on something lumpy, my ankle rolling over top of it, roaring in agony. Stupidly, I’ve used the ankle I sprained during my swan dive off the cliff. But I have no time to think about that, as I kick backwards with my good foot, connecting solidly with something soft and furry that yowls in pain, sounding much more screechy now. The leopard is back, I realize.

Bil Nez apparently hasn’t been immobile either, and there’s a thud and another shriek as he lands some sort of blow. Although his Resistor abilities are of no use against a magical creature that fights with nothing more than raw animalistic strength and ferocity, he’s no stranger to the new, violent world we live in, and I suddenly realize how lucky I am to have him with me now.

“C’mon,” he urges, pushing me from behind and back into the main tunnel. I want to go left, back up the way we were originally heading, but I immediately notice the way the blackness gives way to a gray murk and then a lighter brown. More Pyros are approaching from that direction, as if they’re patrolling this particular tunnel in waves. Just our luck.

So I go right, chasing after the group of Volts and Pyros who we narrowly escaped from in the first place. The whole world feels like it’s been turned upside down. Well, more upside down than it already was, whatever that means.

There’s a horrifyingly bloodthirsty roar from behind us as the leopard springs out into the tunnel, and when I glance over my shoulder she’s backlit by the light of the Pyros. Far bigger than a normal leopard, I suspect she would easily fit in during the prehistoric era, battling saber-tooth tigers and other ancient beasts with ease. And I just kicked her and stomped on her paw. And Bil just smacked her in the face.

Yeah, regardless of whatever orders she has from Flora—“They’re mine; bring them to me alive!”—I get the feeling she’s going to chew first, think later, which makes my feet move so fast despite my hurt ankle that they practically lift off the ground, carrying me forward at breakneck speeds.
Eat my dust, Usain Bolt!

Or at least I thought I was fast. But if I’m like an Olympic sprinter, the leopard’s like the wind, springing past us in a blurry arc and skidding to a stop, cutting off our pursuit.

As she stalks toward us, shrouded partially by Bil and my shadows cast from the light approaching from behind, my heart beats so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t explode from my chest. I’m glad it doesn’t though, because I’m sure the leopard would gobble my bloody heart up, savoring the taste on her tongue with the zeal of a world renowned food critic responsible for giving out Michelin stars.

“What do we have here?” a voice says from behind. Keeping one eye trained on the leopard, I hazard a glance behind me with my other eye. A t-shirt-and-jeans-wearing Pyro tosses a fireball back and forth casually between his hands.

“Back off. They’re mine,” the leopard shrills.

Bil says, “You better not lay a single finger or claw on us. We are prized prisoners of the grand master of the Shifters herself, Flora. Long live the queen!”

The moment where I felt lucky to have Bil by my side passes with the speed of an express train.

The Pyro says, “We don’t have a master.”

The leopard says, “Flora’s not here, is she?”

Bil sucks in a breath as he realizes there’ll be no talking ourselves out of this situation. We’re trapped between razor-sharp fangs and third-degree burns.

That’s when the impossible happens. As I wait for the leopard to pounce on her prey (that’s us, in case you weren’t paying attention), thin red lines appear on her throat, slowly moving across, perfectly parallel. Her eyes go wide and her mouth fully opens and she gasps, her tongue flapping like a dog’s. Blood spurts from the wounds and she tries to clutch at her neck with her paws, but it’s far too late to stop the bleeding, which is like a high-pressure garden hose. Her powerful hind legs give out and she collapses, a mound of meat and fur in a growing pool of her own blood.

As if out of a hole in the air, a lion appears, the claws on his left front paw dripping blood, his face wearing a fierce expression of defiance. He roars, and though it seems impossible, I can recognize him even before Hex transforms back into himself, a seemingly mild-mannered German shepherd with more secrets than the CIA.

I’ve always wanted to have one of those slow-motion, jubilant animal/human reunions like you see in the movies, where the girl runs through a field of wildflowers and hugs her dog around the neck as he licks her face.

Unfortunately, we’re in a dark, dismal cave filled with fire-throwing Pyro witches, so my wish will have to remain a wish for now.

“Get them!” the Pyro shouts from behind. Blue-green fireballs arc through the tunnel, so numerous that dodging them will be impossible. One way or another, we’re going to burn.

Then there’s a flash of brown at one side, attaching itself to the wall and stretching across the passageway like a square of pizza dough pulled to its breaking point but still managing to hold. The fireballs stick to the barrier, which is dripping a thick, viscous substance resembling mud. I jump back as huge white eyes stare out from the side of it, just above a wide black mouth. “Grogg likes fire. Grogg feels warm and toasty. You run. We catch up.”

And despite my shock at seeing the traitorous little mud troll again, not to mention the fact that he’s helping us out of the very predicament he helped get us into, I run, chasing after Bil Nez, who’s galloping alongside Hex—whose eyes are like floodlights, illuminating the entire tunnel, and a tiny sprite of a girl, her hair flashing red.

“Chloe!” I shout, pulling astride. She beams at me, her smile like an upside-down rainbow missing all the colors except pink. Hex’s magical light casts a golden sheen on her freckles, which could easily be mistaken for gold coins, the leprechaun’s treasure.

“I did it,” she says, victorious. “I was scared but I did it anyway.”

Although I know we’re all still in danger, relief floods through me with each step. This poor tortured girl didn’t die because of what I asked her to do. She was strong. She was resilient. She was a survivor, and now we might survive because of her efforts. I’ll defend her to the death from this point forward, so long as she doesn’t try to force-feed slugs down my throat.

“You did it,” I echo. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bil Nez says, “Look!” and I notice a circle of light way up ahead, far beyond where even the light of Hex’s magical eyes can reach. Daylight floods into the tunnel like the brilliant beam of a lighthouse guiding a ship to safety.

We made it.