The Curse of the King (22 page)

I lost sight of Cass first, and then Aly. “Guys?” I called out.
“Guys, don't get too far ahead of me!”

No answer. The trees were so thick even sound didn't travel far.

By now I could smell the faint saltiness of sea air. That
meant we weren't too far from the beach. As I hauled myself around a fallen tree, I stopped to take a breath. A monkey swung overhead, and I felt a tiny nut bop the top of my head. “Thanks a lot,” I grumbled.

Eeeee!
cried the monkey. It was standing upright on a branch, gesturing deeper into the woods.
Eeee! Eeee!

It looked a lot like Wilbur the extremely smart chimp, Torquin's friend, who had given his life for us. These island monkeys were not normal. This one seemed to be warning me.

“What?” I strained to see into the jungle but nothing seemed unusual.

Eeee!

“Thanks, that makes it clearer,” I said.

There.

A flash of black.

I squinted. Something moved in the distance, from one tree to the next. As I instinctively jumped back, the monkey pounded its own chest as if to say
See? What did I tell you?
Then it swung away and out of sight.

“Hello?” I called out.

More than anything I wanted to hear Fiddle's voice or Nirvana's. But I got no response. I waited a few minutes, then picked up a rock and threw it in that direction.

With a hollow thump, it bounced off a tree and fell to the ground.

I looked back toward the direction Cass and Aly had
disappeared. They would be noticing my absence now. But if they tried to find me in these woods, they might get lost. Even with Cass's help.

“FI-I-I-DL-L-LE!”
I shouted. Then,
“CA-A-A-ASSS! A-A-A-L-Y!”

My voice echoed briefly into the canopies then faded quickly, answered only by a few curious bird calls. I began thrashing my way after Cass's path.

At least I hoped it was Cass's path.

The ocean smell came and went. I was sniffing up the sweat that poured down my face in torrents. Neither Cass nor Aly had left footprints in the thick piles of decaying leaves. My ankles were crosshatched with tiny lashes and swollen with bug bites. The trees seemed to be growing closer, threatening to strangle me. I knew it was the dead of afternoon, but the skies seemed to be darkening.

I heard a rustling sound and paused.
The sea?

No. It was behind me. In the trees.

At the sharp, pistol-like snap of a branch, I spun around. The shape was closer, ducking behind a tree. I saw a flash of a black boot and knew it was human.

Not a rebel, I figured. They knew who I was, and they would come out of hiding to meet me. Then who? A Massa spy? “Hello? Hey, I see you. We were told we had until darkness!”

No response.

I turned and ran away as fast as I could. In about twenty yards I came to a dense copse off to the left and dived into the brush. My breaths came in loud, ragged gasps, but I tried to control the noise.

I heard footsteps. The figure was coming closer now. I could wait till he passed. Or jump him.

The steps crashed through the underbrush and then abruptly stopped. I held my breath. A mosquito buzz-bombed my ear and I swatted it.

Carefully I pushed aside the branches of the bush and peered into the pathway, where I'd last heard the steps.

It was empty.

I felt a hand grab my arm, and another jam against my mouth. A scream caught in my throat as I turned, staring into the fabric of a black hooded mask.

I struggled to get free. My attacker was trim and barely taller than me, but his strength was awesome. There aren't too many things more awkward than being dragged through a jungle by your arm. I stumbled in the brush and nearly fell three times.

He came to a stop near a fallen tree, set me against it, and whispered, “Speak softly.”

It was not a
he
voice at all. I watched in disbelief as my assailant removed the black mask. My throat dried instantly, and I had to swallow to speak.

“Mom?”

M
OM'S HAIR WAS
close-cropped, almost like a boy's haircut, but nothing could hide her humongous smile. “I am so, so sorry, Jack,” she said softly, “but that place where I found you . . . it had cameras.”

“It's o—” I said, but her arms were wrapped around me before I could get to the “kay.”

I didn't think about cameras. Or about the island at all, or my body's time clock or the fact that my friends were nowhere to be seen. In that moment, seven years disappeared and I was a little kid again. I smelled mac and cheese bubbling on the stove, and a blast of chilly air through the kitchen door. I remembered the curve of her arms and her sweet smell and even her little, barely audible sob.

“I don't mean to smother you,” she said. “I have been waiting to do this for years.”

Smothering was okay. I gripped her as hard as I could. There was so much I wanted to say. A geyser of thoughts rose up inside me—angry and giddy, desperate and confused, all tripping over each other to get to my mouth. “How could you . . . why didn't you . . . Dad and me . . . all this time—”

“Shhhh,” Mom said, placing her fingers on my lips. “Not so loud, Jack. There's so much I need to tell you. You're right to be upset. I never meant to abandon you and your dad, you have to know that.”

“I do know,” I said. “The Omphalos put a contract on your life. Number One told us.”

“Yes,” she said, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I had no chance against him, Jack. If I hadn't carried out my plan in Antarctica, I would be dead now. And then I would have no chance to find a cure. No way to save you. I wanted to tell you and Dad, but it all happened so fast.”

“But
why
?” I said. “Why would someone want to kill my mom?”

“Because I was hopelessly naive,” Mom replied. “All I wanted was to find the cure, and I thought the Massa and Karai wanted that, too. But like the princes they were descended from, they couldn't agree. They worked in secret from one another, while kids all over the world were dying.
You
were going to die. I decided to force them to work together. So when I began to unravel the G7W gene, I declared I'd give my findings to the Massa as well, so that our chances of finding a cure would be doubled. I asked the Omphalos to reach out to Aliyah. Instead, he ordered his people to kill me and take my work. I had no choice but to turn to the Massa. They took me in, no questions asked. They accepted my findings. Valued my work. But to be safe, I created a new identity so they wouldn't connect me to you.”

I nodded. “So it's true. The Karai are the bad guys.”

“No, no, it's not so simple.” Mom shook her head, wiping her cheek. “You must understand, Jack, Professor Bhegad would never have wanted anyone to harm me. He was a mentor and a good, kind man, even if he didn't always show it. And I see now that the Omphalos only wanted to make sure the information didn't fall into the wrong hands. He saw that raising Atlantis would bring devastation. So their work is
good
, Jack.”

“But their leader was ruthless . . .” I said.

“
Is
,” Mom murmured.

She began to cry, and I couldn't help myself either. We both rocked back and forth in each other's arms. “I wish we could both go home,” I said. “I wish we were all normal again.”

Mom nodded, gently pulling back and looking me in
the eye. “We'll get through this, Jack. We'll get the Loculi and save your life. I swear it.”

“Mom, Number One is threatening us,” I said. “She thinks we stole the Massa's Loculus shards. But someone else did—”

I stopped short of mentioning the rebels. But Mom touched her finger to my lips, as if to shush me. “Of course you didn't. No one did. The shards are where they have always been since we got back to the island, in a secure hiding place very close to Aliyah.”

“Wait.
What?
” I exclaimed. “So she lied to us? Why?”

“The same reason she lied about the xylokrikos and the electrified trap that wasn't.”

Mom's raised eyebrow told a complete story.
Of course.
How could I have been so thickheaded?

“She's manipulating us,” I said. “She knows we'd assume the rebels stole the shards. And that we'd go after them. So she's using us to flush them out of hiding. To do the work she can't do.”

Mom nodded. “That is how the Massa work.”

“Okay, we have to tell Cass and Aly,” I said, looking over my shoulder. “Last I saw, they were headed to the beach.”

Stiffening, Mom reached out and grabbed my arm. “Don't . . . move . . .” she whispered.

Directly ahead of us was a thrashing sound. Mom crouched behind the bush, pulling me with her. “With the
opening of the rift,” she whispered, “there are all manner of beasts in the jungle.”

“If it's a vromaski . . . ?” I said.

Mom gulped. “We run.”

As we tensed for action, I heard another rustling noise—this time, behind us. I spun around in time to see Cass and Aly burst through the trees.

I put my fingers to my lips, and they fell silent. Mom was focused on the sound ahead of us, pointing a small gun. Through the trees emerged a massive figure with no hair; blackened skin; and filthy, ripped clothing. As his green eyes focused on us, Mom pulled her trigger.

“No!” screamed Aly.
“Don't you know who that is?”

The giant attacker put a hand to his neck and fell to his knees. It was only by the sound of his roar and the scar on his cheek that I knew who he was.

M
OM TOOK AIM
again, but I knocked the gun from her hand.
“Stop! You just shot Torquin!”

As Aly ran toward the giant, Mom's mouth fell open. “But his face! I didn't recognize him.”

“He was in an explosion,” I said. “He—he should be dead.”

“Now he is,” Aly called out.

“No!” Mom said. “It's a tranquilizer bullet.”

With a grunt, Torquin glanced at Aly, confusion dancing across his slitted eyes. His face was swollen and mottled with angry orange-red blotches. The lashes and brows had been scorched off. His unruly thick red mane was gone, leaving only a few ragged tufts of blackened hair.

I ran to him as fast as I could. Aly, Cass, and I tried to lift him to his feet, but it was no use. At nearly seven feet tall and three hundred pounds, Torquin was either going to fall or stand on his own.

Mom came toward us, frantically rummaging in a leather pouch. “He'll need an antidote. That dosage was enough to take down a rhinoceros.”

“Pre . . . posserous,” Torquin mumbled, his eyes crossing.

“Hold out his arm!” Mom pulled out a small vial and quickly yanked the cap off a hypodermic needle.

Torquin was swaying back and forth groggily, singing a song from
The Little Mermaid
. Lifting his arm was like trying to grab a tree trunk on a moving lumber truck. Mom broke three needles on his thick skin before she could administer the antidote. She sat with him, snapping her fingers in his eyes and slapping his cheeks to keep him awake.

In a moment Torquin's eyes fluttered. He lowered his chin and let out a belch that rocked his entire body.

“I think he's feeling better,” Cass said.

Aly gave him a gentle hug. “I'm so glad you're alive.”

I leaned close. “Torquin . . . it's Jack, Cass, and Aly. How did you survive that explosion?”

“Barely,” Torquin grumbled, eyeing Mom warily.

“It's okay, she's on our side,” I said. “She's my mom.”

Torquin's eyes went from slits to saucers.

“I submit to no group,” Mom said. “I am a free agent representing the interests of my son and the Select. I will keep your secrets and help you in any way.”