Diana Tregarde - Burning Water Part 30

Di grabbed his arm before he could slip off. "Mark I want to take the s.h.i.+elds off you. Now."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to try something, to bring in help but it's going to need a physical body if it comes. It can't be mine; I'll have to handle the girls."

"Which leaves me." Mark didn't entirely like the notion. "What if Tezli-whatsis decides he likes me better than Rob?"

"He can't switch; not until Robert is dead."

"You think. Are you sure you have to do this?" he asked, still not happy. He liked being under s.h.i.+elds; he didn't want to give them up, not now, not under fire.

"s.h.i.+t, I'm not sure it's even going to do any good!" she replied, looking just as unhappy as he felt.

"It's an outside chance at best; I'm not sure I read the rite correctly, I'm not sure I did it correctly a week ago, I'm not sure I recited the right invocation in the car, and I'm not sure it's going to work at all even if I did everything perfectly. But we're dealing with powerful stuff here; one h.e.l.l of a lot more powerful than I can handle go ahead, test the water; even you ought to be able to feel it "

He closed his eyes and imagined himself extending a cautious mental "hand" toward the townhouse and pulled it back a lot faster than he'd extended it.

"Something there, and not there." He s.h.i.+vered. "Weird, even by your standards. And strong."

"Exactly. He's up there, and manifesting through Robert. The only way he could be stronger would be if he didn't need a vehicle. In no way am I going to be able to hold off a G.o.d! Mark please "

"Okay," he sighed. "Take 'em off."

Mark had been s.h.i.+elded for so long, he'd forgotten what it "felt" like to be uns.h.i.+elded.

It felt naked, was what it felt like. Open to every little thing that blew by. A house with all the doors and windows standing wide. Come on in, sit right down, make yourself at home, help yourself to the family silver "Okay," Di told him. "Go "

He slipped around the corner, bending low to stay under the windows; he peeked around the next corner at the a.s.signed parking slots. The car was there, and so was Sherry's. He sprinted back.

"We're go."

They kept to the shrubbery, edging their way behind its concealment, until they made the edge of the privacy fence itself. A quick eye to the cracks showed there was no one on the patio, and there didn't seem to be anyone in the kitchen beyond. This fence was a mere six feet tall, but it did not have the wide top that the exterior adobe fence had. Di took one look and shook her head at him. Mark got himself over; then, with a cautionary glance at the patio door, slid over to the gate and let Di inside.

The patio door led into the kitchen and it was not locked. Which was just as well; if it had been, Mark had been quite prepared to pick it, or if that took too much time, shoot the d.a.m.n thing open.

They eased it open enough to squeeze through, and froze as they heard voices.

Di looked to Mark for guidance.

"We'd better rush them," he whispered. "It sounds like they're moving toward the front door.

Anything I should do to kick off this 'help' you said you've called?"

"Pray," she said, grimly. "Just pray. It doesn't matter to who; it'll get where it needs to go."

With his s.h.i.+elding off he could feel the weirdness and the strength of it, and he was coldly afraid. He couldn't think of anything just as on that long -ago Halloween night. Not so much as a "Hail Mary."

So he did now what he'd done then as he charged through the kitchen and dining room and on into the living room (grateful for all the times he'd been here, so that he knew the layout of the place), he put everything he could spare into a single, simple cry for help.

He hit the carpet of the living room in a roll, and came up behind the back of the sectional sofa with his gun drawn and trained on the astonished group headed for the outer hallway.

Sherry was toward the front of the group, dressed (Mark's heart plummeted) in the white outfit she'd been working on all this time. He'd been hoping that he and Di weren't right in their guess.

Behind her were the four priestesses, two on either side, wearing perfectly ordinary clothing.

Bringing up the rear was Robert.

But when the man turned, and Mark saw his eyes, he knew there wasn't much of Robert there anymore.

"Freeze!" Mark barked. "Rob, don't try me. You know I never aim at what I don't intend to hit."

Behind him, he could hear Di gliding into the room without s.h.i.+elding he could feel her too; like a bright flame at his back. Before him, Robert laughed softly.

"Go ahead," he mocked. "Shoot. You won't get very far."

Then he made a short rush toward Mark and reflex took over. He fired three times.

And he heard the bullets. .h.i.t something with an audible dang and saw them hang in midair a foot in front of Robert's chest for a moment, then fall to the carpet.

Robert laughed again, and gestured, and Mark discovered that he couldn't move.

"You won't manage that trick with me, Burning Water," Di's voice rang out behind him, high and clear. Then, before any of them could react, she vaulted the sofa into, then out of the pit group then leapt for the group of five women, tearing an unresisting Sherry out of their hands and shoving her out of the way behind her. The moment Di's hands were free of Sherry, she had both of them raised before her, and Mark could not only sense the s.h.i.+elds she'd raised about her and Sherry, he could see them like some kind of special effects force -field in a sci-fi movie.

The girls recovered quickly, and raised s.h.i.+elds of their own. Within a heartbeat the living room began to resemble the kind of battle a special effects man would sell his soul to reproduce fiery b.a.l.l.s and lances of colored light licking out and exploding against the s.h.i.+elds in showers of sparks, an occasional weirdly shaped and half-seen critter tearing into one side or the other before one of those blasts of light could take it out. Only two things would the effects man have to complain about. First, that there was nothing visible happening when the weaponry connected; just a gasp of pain from the recipient, or the momentary weakening and dimming of the s.h.i.+eld. Second, that the entire battle was soundless except for grunts of effort or gasps of pain.

After a few moments during which he was too confused to make out much, Mark began to get a clearer idea of what was happening. Robert had not yet joined in and Di was holding her own, but just barely.

If Robert decided to pitch in He glanced at Robert as the fight began to work away from Robert and back nearer to where Sherry sat dull-eyed and unseeing beside the couch. He saw Robert frown; he saw Robert start to raise his hands.If Rob joined in, Di was doomed. And so were Sherry and himself.

And Mark again remembered Di's admonition to pray.

This time he wasn't distracted by having to make a dive for cover; he sent every bit of what he had winging outward in that inarticulate call for help.

If he could have fallen, he would have; dizziness made the room spin and start to go black. This was a replay of the strange, disorienting vertigo he'd begun to feel that Halloween when the thing had set eyes on him, only much stronger, much more intense. Once a private plane he'd been in had gotten caught in turbulence and began to spin out of control; this was like that, only the plane was him and he didn't have the controls Suddenly everything steadied, as if a giant, gentle hand had caught him and was supporting him. He still couldn't see but he felt a a presence. Like the bright flame that was Di, only more so.

Your pardon for the intrusion, little brother, the presence said/felt/thought in his mind. But you called; is it permitted?

What the h.e.l.l am I supposed to say! he thought, confused. All Mark could think of was old vampire movies. Uh enter freely and of your own will?

My thanks.

Now he could see and hear but when he tried to raise his gun, he discovered that he could not act.

It was uncannily like what had happened when he was doing the regression with Di; he was an observer in his own body.

As his hands bolstered the gun, Mark saw with relief that Robert had not yet completed whatever action it was that he had intended to take.

"Brother " said his mouth But it was not his voice coming from that mouth.

Robert started, and pivoted to face him, a look of utter incredulity on his face. Mark's body rose, and stood facing him, completely relaxed, completely confident, radiating serenity.

Mark managed to notice that the battle with the four priestesses had now gone from pyrotechnics to a battle of wills: the four grouped together, holding each other's hands; Di alone, feet slightly apart, hands clenched at her sides both sides staring silently at each other with eyes locked.

He turned his attention back to Robert. The man's expression was one of surprise, disbelief, and something Mark couldn't identify.

"Your time is past, my brother," the voice said gently.

Robert flushed with anger. "And yours is not?" he spat.

"Both yes and no."

Robert was gone now. There was no trace of Mark's old friend in the figure that faced him/them.

Burning Water sneered. "I see you haven't given up ambiguity. Still the philosopher "

"As you still seek war and conflict, and turn your back on other solutions. Brother, this man you hold, you have some right to he is yours by consent, and twice. And the four priestesses. But this man the other women no. No. Choose another Corn Woman, brother. Or choose another way."

Burning Water snarled, and his face twisted into something very like a cat's snarling mask. "Your way? Never. I destroyed you once, brother "

"Yet I continue to return." Mark felt his lips smiling.

Then he felt the presence within him turn a fraction of its attention back on him, as if it had forgotten that he was still there and only just now remembered the fact. He could feel its regard; it was a great deal like being caught in the tropical sun at high noon. It was warming, and dazzling, but too bright and intense to bear for long.

Then he heard himself speaking again, but his lips were shaping strange, guttural words that sounded faintly familiar, but not familiar enough for him to guess what was being said.

If he could have flushed, he would have. It was frustrating and a little shaming; he felt as if he was a kid again, and the adults in the room had just switched to a code so he wouldn't be able to eavesdrop!

Whatever was going on, both ent.i.ties were still arguing. The argument finally ended when Mark's controller suddenly gestured peremptorily toward the group still engaged in their psychic duel in the far corner of the living room.

The four priestesses went glaze-eyed, and froze. Di blinked, shook her head; then swiveled, hands in the guard position, to face Mark.

He had no notion of what she saw there, but she relaxed completely.

She shook herself all over, gave a great sigh of evident relief, then made a strange little bow and said something hesitantly in that odd guttural tongue, of which Mark only understood the word "Quetzalcoatl."

That was enough for him to figure out just who he was sharing his body with. He didn't feel quite so badly then at being left out....

The ent.i.ty sharing his mind replied to her salutation, but not with voice. Mark could actually feel the thoughts reaching toward Di, although he could not touch them, nor read them himself.

She made a sour face, but didn't protest, although he could tell from her expression that she would have liked to. Instead she stepped reluctantly away from the four handmaidens.

Robert beckoned, anger written in every muscle-twitch. The four women seemed to wake partially from their trance, and answered his summons, gathering around him with bewilderment, confusion, and a little fear in their eyes.

Robert snapped something at them, and they headed for the door, still acting a bit glazed. Then Robert stalked towards the couch, and Sherry Mark fought the ent.i.ty controlling him, then; fought in sheer rage and panic.

Dammit, no! he shouted at the ent.i.ty. You said he has no right to her! I won't let you give her away, d.a.m.n you! Not Sherry But Robert only seized his wife by the arm, yanked her to her feet, and shoved the half-conscious woman straight at Mark. "Take her and be d.a.m.ned to both of you," Robert snarled in English, as Mark's arms caught and held her gently.

He realized then that it was his arms catching her; the ent.i.ty Quetzalcoatl had relinquished most of the control to him, only remaining watchfully in the back of his mind.

Robert snarled something else, then and Quetzalcoatl took back just enough control to reply. Then Robert was striding angrily out of the room, into the hall, slamming the front door behind him so hard that the whole apartment shook.

And like an omen, the bronze glyph of "Burning Water" fell from the darkroom door and shattered on the tiles of the doorstep where the carpet ended.

For a few moments more, Mark was held by the ent.i.ty within him; able to support the now completely unconscious Sherry, but unable to do anything else.

Then, with a rush very like great wings of light sweeping all about him, it was gone, leaving only a sense of deep peace behind.

But with it went ninety percent of his energy.

He sagged against the couch, the weight of Sherry in his arms now more than he could cope with. He managed to haul her ungracefully over the back of it and down onto the couch cus.h.i.+ons where she curled up on her own into a sleeping position, and then did not move again except for her steady breathing.

That done, he suddenly remembered that his quarry was getting away.

He stumbled toward the front door; Di intercepted him before he could get there and caught his arm. Weakened as he was, she was more than a match for him.

"What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?" he cried, too d.a.m.ned tired to muster anger, and trying to pull out of her grasp. "Those those things have murdered nearly a hundred people, and they're getting away!"

She collapsed to the floor looking just as exhausted as he was and let go of his arm. "That's the price Tezcatlipoca demanded for letting us go," she said, wearily. "Enough time to get away. When Sherry wakes, we can set the dogs on him, but not before."

He stared at her, totally aghast.

"Mark, I don't like it any better than you do," she snapped. "It sure as h.e.l.l wasn't the way I figured things would turn out. I thought we'd either win or lose and win or lose, I thought we'd get this stopped for good. I told you once that if I went, I'd take this thing with me I felt Burning Water beginning to make his move, and I was getting ready to do a really spectacular kamikaze act when your visitor arrived. And I never expected him to work this thing out to a d.a.m.ned draw!"

"Well, the h.e.l.l with that!" he growled, and headed for the door And literally bounced off an invisible barrier at the entrance to the hallway, landing flat on his rump.

"What I figured," he heard Di sigh from across the room, and saw that she was pus.h.i.+ng at what was probably a similar barrier, trying to get at the designer phone on the table next to the dining room door.

"s.h.i.+t!" he cursed, seeing no way out of it.

She looked over at him, and favored him with another of her rueful smiles.

"G.o.ds," she told him, "have a habit of enforcing their bargains."

"... so I guess they figured we'd finally fingered them," Mark concluded, "Since by the time we got there, they were gone and Sherry was just coming around after they'd knocked her out."

Sherry hadn't remembered a thing, so that was the story he and Di had concocted between them, claiming their arrival time at Robert's apartment for a good six hours after the actual confrontation.

"Aw hail," the Chief swore. "We got an APB on 'em, but ah doubt it'll do much good." As always, when angry, his accent had thickened. "They're prob'ly halfway t' Tee-ah-joo-wana by now."

"Probably, since Rob had more than enough cash to buy his own plane, and there's more little private airports around here than fleas on a hound," Mark agreed. "Well, at least we've seen the last of them and you have got a perp. They practically confessed by heading out."

"Yeah, they did, an' that's how ah'm gonna handle it," the Chief replied, still mad as hops. "But they got two more afore they went. Gawddammittall!"

"Oh h.e.l.l" Mark groaned.