The Curse of the King (26 page)

“Did you hit any of them?” she asked.

“I missed on purpose,” I said. “Come on!”

Without waiting for a reply, I dropped the backpack on the ground, flicked on my flashlight, and began to run. I beat a path parallel to the one we'd taken, keeping Eloise's screams to my left. The attackers would be following her screams, too. If they got to her first, we needed to be in a position to ambush.

At the distant sound of rumbling voices, I stopped. Aly and Torquin came up behind me. I put my finger to my lips and clicked off the flashlight.

The attackers were directly ahead. I heard a moan, and some frantic-sounding whispers. As we tiptoed closer,
branches cracked beneath our feet, but no one seemed to hear us.

There.

About twenty yards in front of us, a dim light flickered. I fell to my chest and crawled forward, until I could make out a group of silhouettes gathered around a fire—not many, maybe three or four. As Aly and Torquin crawled up beside me, I took aim with the gun. My hands shook.

“What are you doing?” Aly said. “What if you hit Eloise or Cass?”

“I don't see them,” I said.

“Time to squash Massa,” Torquin said, crouching as if to pounce.

The voices fell silent. Torquin fell to his stomach, and we all held our breath.

A moment later, I heard the click of a cocked pistol from behind us.

Aly smacked my arm. “Stop it. This king stuff is going to your head.”

“It wasn't me!” I protested.

“What?”
Aly shot back. “Then who—?”

I whirled around, gun in hand.

“Drop it, cowboy,” a female voice said.

I let the gun fall. Rising to my knees, I put my hands in the air. Together, Aly, Torquin, and I stood and turned.

A dark figure stood before us, holding a flashlight. Slowly she pointed it toward herself, chest high, shining it upward until her own face was revealed.

“Why didn't you lame-os tell us it was you?” said Nirvana.

T
HE BLACK LIPSTICK
was gone.

That was the first thing I noticed. Her jet-black hair was growing in sandy blond, her cheekbones were sharper, and her skin was deeply tanned. But there was no mistaking Nirvana's lopsided, ironic smile. “You . . . scared me . . .” was all I could think to say.

“Be glad I'm not wearing my goth makeup. You'd have a heart attack.” She holstered her gun and held open her arms, her smile growing into a wide grin. “Oh, by Qalani's eyelashes,
is it good to see yooooooou
!”

Aly and I flew into her embrace and hugged her tight. Torquin shifted from side to side in an elephant-like way and cocked his head curiously, which was about as close as
he got to cuddly. It took Nirvana a moment to recognize him. “Whoa, is that Torkissimo? What happened, dude—someone stick your face in a jet engine?”

“Um . . .”

As the big guy formulated an answer, Aly shook her head sadly, looking at our friend's gaunt figure. “I could feel the bones through your shirt, Nirvana.”

“So we gave up fine dining for the cause,” Nirvana said with a laugh. “Girl, I can't believe this! How on earth did you guys get here? How did you take out those Massa?
Oh who cares, I am so happy to see you!
” She turned and called over her shoulder,
“Guys! It's Aly and Jack! And a radically reimagined Torquin!”

A chorus of screams echoed through the woods again, but this time it wasn't monkeys. I saw Fritz the mechanic, Hiro the martial arts guy, Brutus the chef, and an architect I'd once met whose name was Lisa. Their smiles beamed through sunken, grime-covered faces. They mobbed us, high-fiving and whooping at the top of their lungs.

Behind them were Eloise and Cass. “Where were you?” I called out.

“They ambushed us, thinking we were Massa,” Cass said. “Eloise screamed.”

“
You
screamed!” Eloise said.

But Cass had recognized Nirvana and was running into her arms, shrieking with joy.

“Pile up!” boomed Marco.

As he jumped into the group, nearly knocking us all over, Nirvana shot Cass and me a nervous glance.

“Marco's one of us again,” Cass explained.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Can we be sure of anything?”

“Word.” Nirvana, Cass, and I silently looked at the small, ragged group. Everyone seemed so happy. But the ripped clothing and haggard bodies made it clear that the rebels had been through some tough times.

One of them, I noticed, was missing. “Where's Fiddle?” I asked.

Nirvana's eyes darted back in the direction they'd come. “Come on. He'll want to see you.”

As she pulled me through the rejoicing crowd, I called out for Aly, Cass, and Marco. Together we ran to the fire, which was in a small clearing. One of the Karai medical staff was hunched over Fiddle's body—someone I vaguely remembered seeing at the hospital back in the Karai days. “How's he doing, Bones?” Nirvana asked.

“The fever spiked again,” the doctor replied, her face drawn and hollow. “One hundred four and rising.”

Nirvana squeezed her eyes shut. “He insisted on coming with us. I knew he was too sick. I shouldn't have let him.”

By now my two friends were kneeling by our side.

Three
friends. I had to include Marco now.

“What happened to him?” Aly asked.

Bones sighed. “It's the jungle. There are disease-carrying insects, birds, mammals, poisonous berries. It could be any of those things. I wish I could diagnose him properly, but we're nowhere near any equipment or medical supplies. He's been like this for a while. Coming out with us was not a good idea.”

“Will he be okay?” Aly said, smoothing out Fiddle's hair across his forehead. “Hey, buddy, can you hear me? What can we do for you?”

“I could use”—Fiddle struggled for words, his eyes blinking—“a burrito.”

Aly smiled. “We're out of chicken. Will monkey meat be okay?”

Fiddle's glance moved from her to Marco to Cass to me. “Okay, tacos . . . instead.”

“It's us, Fiddle!” I said. “Jack, Aly, Cass, Marco, and Torquin.”

His eyes seemed to flash with recognition. “Can't . . . believe this . . .” he rasped. “The fearsome fivesome . . .”

He laughed, but the laugh made him cough. The cough quickly grew until his body was spasming and his soot-darkened face began turning red. Nirvana quickly reached into a weather-beaten sack, pulled out some kind of animal bladder, and began squeezing water into his mouth. “You're going to make it,” she said.

He moved his mouth as if to respond, but he gagged. His head jerked upward and his arms and legs twitched. I could see Dr. Bones racing over as his body went limp and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Fiddle
? Fiddle, do you hear me?”
Dr. Bones slapped his face, then grabbed his wrist briefly to feel for a pulse. Almost immediately she let go and leaned hard into his chest, pumping it three times, and then three times again.

“Yo, let's bring him to the waterfall!” Marco blurted out, reaching for Fiddle's shoulders. “That thing put me back together again.”

“No, Marco, it won't work for him—you're a
Select
,” Aly said. “It works for us, not for normal people.”

“Cass,” I said. “The shard!”

Cass swallowed. “I don't know, Jack . . .”

“Just give it to me!”

Cass reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic pouch that contained the fused, pebble-sized shard. I spilled it into my palm and ran around to the opposite side of Fiddle's body from Dr. Bones. Falling to my knees, I pressed the shard to his abdomen. I could feel the little remnant begin to shrink again. “Come on . . .” I murmured. “Come on, Fiddle . . .”

“Works for Select only,” Torquin said, “like waterfall?”

Aly shook her head. “No, Loculi are different. The touch of a Select lets the power of the Loculus flow through. But
this one's wasting away. We need the other pieces.
Where are the other pieces? Where's the sack?
”

“I left the backpack by the swamp,” I said.

“I'll get it!” Cass said.

As he ran back, I kept pressing the shard until I felt nothing. The doctor, still holding on to Fiddle's wrist, placed his arm down on the ground and shook her head.

I pulled away and sat back. Overhead the monkeys fell silent. As if they knew. Fiddle's mouth was open, his eyes staring upward and his brow beetled as if he'd noticed the silence, too.

Something the size of a seat cushion landed softly on my shoulder, and I knew it was Torquin's hand. “Good try, Jack,” he said softly.

All around me, heads bowed and tears ran runnels through dirt-stained faces.

I opened my palm. At the center was a small, colorless dot, about the size of a sesame seed.

“H
ERE IT IS!”
Cass shouted, running toward me with the sack containing the shards. When he saw Fiddle, he stopped short. “Is he . . . ?”

“I'm sorry . . .” I murmured, both to Fiddle and to my friends. “I'm so sorry.”

Eloise burst into tears. “I never saw a dead person before . . .”

Cass put an awkward arm around her shoulder. As the KI people gathered around the body, one of them held some kind of makeshift torch. Fiddle's features seemed to flutter in the light of the flame.

“My best friend on the whole island . . .” Nirvana said, swallowing a sob. “I was such a brat when I got here. He schooled me.”

“I don't know why the shard didn't work,” I said. “It worked with Aly . . .”

“Maybe too small,” Torquin suggested.

I stared at the tiny, freckle-sized dot in my palm. “I could have run for the other shards sooner. What was I thinking? I killed him . . .”

“The shards are locked in a box, Jack,” Cass said. “It's not your fault he died.”

“If it's anyone's fault, it's mine,” Marco said. “I never should have left you guys in the first place.”

“Stop it,” Aly said. “It's done. We can't just stay here. How long till Dimitrios wakes up, or till the Massa back at camp come after the missing goons—”

“Or come after the missing Loculi,” Cass added.

Nirvana stood. “We'll take Fiddle into the headquarters and bury him there. Let's move.”

Marco crouched down and lifted up Fiddle's shoulders. “Help me lift him, Tork.”

“I'll grab some flashlights from the Massa,” I said.

Fritz nodded grimly. “I'll get their weapons.”

Grieving would have to wait. Speed and silence were crucial.

We hit the path with only a few flashlights as guides, to conserve batteries. Mine was already almost dead. The walk was silent and steady. Marco held Fiddle's arms and Torquin his legs. Aly and I stayed together, while behind
us Cass and Eloise walked single file among the other Karai.

I could not shake the image of Fiddle's body going slack.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Aly said.

I smiled and shook my head, concentrating on the narrow path.

“Okay, a dollar.” I felt her slipping her fingers into mine. “Hey. Mr. Moody Broody. It's not your fault.”

“Right.” I took a deep breath. “We . . . we have to look on the bright side.”

“Yes,” Aly said.

“We found the rebels,” I said.

“And got Marco back again,” Aly added.

I nodded. “Also, my mom turned out not to be evil after all.”

“Exactly!” Aly said. “Plus we have the two Loculi back,
and
all the shards.”

“And I guess I'll be king soon,” I added, forcing a smile.