The time comes to walk out to the stone table. As we make our way to the center of the clearing, I glance around at the many hundreds of anxious people staring at us, awaiting the unknown. More tents line the perimeter at the tree line, and the floodlights are already turned on, illuminating the area. Clearly, no one wants to take any chances with the Shadow Demons, even though they won’t be out for several hours.
I sense Chris’s and Justin’s apprehension. “Don’t worry,” I assure them. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
We stop and stand on the north side of the rock altar.
Chris catches my eye and opens his mind. Calli, let nature decide. Please.
I say out loud for Justin’s sake. “Everything that’s about to happen will be in the best interest of all the clans.”
Justin turns to me and blurts, “You really annoy me. Do you know that?”
I think to myself as I focus on Chris, not for much longer.
Chris’s eyes widen with alarm. For a moment, I wonder if he’s heard my thoughts, but the whoosh of murmurs throughout the crowd moves my attention to the tent of the Death Clan.
We all stare across the meadow and watch as several individuals wearing white robes emerge from the tent. They are ghastly in every way. I believe it is the Death Clan’s intention to appear unnerving with their sinister beauty: long, silvery-white hair; flawless white skin that never sees sunlight; perfect facial proportions; and eyes black as obsidian anchored in their eye sockets—probably modified to see in the darkness of caves. None of them look old, but none of them look human either. The self-given title of Immortals seems appropriate. Three hooded men emerge from the thirty or so clan members and approach the table.
Chris addresses the figure in front. “We have the package,” he says. “Where is yours?”
The man ignores Chris and turns to me. He pulls his hood down to show his face, the mere sight of which sends a chill down my spine. His skin is so thin I can see the shape of his skull, which makes me realize the whiteness is due to the bones beneath it. Up close, I can see Death Clan members’ eyes are totally black, lacking a distinct iris or having any white around the eye. I shiver, despite trying to remain calm. He speaks with a high-pitched, smooth voice. “You are Calli Courtnae?”
I nod. In the man’s mind I find his name is Markus.
“The dynamics of this group has changed,” Markus announces. “You are the true leader of this trio, Miss Courtnae, and I will only address you.”
I had not foreseen this happening in my visions. My panic-infused heart beats rapidly. I step forward and address the eerie leader. “We have our package. Where’s yours?”
He turns and nods to the guards near the tent, who then begin to bring out the hostages. I hear murmurs throughout the circling crowd. The captives’ hands are bound, and they appear pale and weak. Dirk, John, and Macey are easy to spot since they are wearing green running suits. They are all young, like me.
“Now, Miss Courtnae, mysterious member of all clans, Runner, Seer, Healer, Hunter, Mind-Reader, Thought-Extractor—Witch—present the package.”
Thought-Extractor must be the newest power, the one that had held Justin’s hands on my shoulders while I sucked out his memories and future by force. Justin sure hasn’t wasted any time informing the enemy of my new talent. I realize he must have contacted someone during his bathroom break. I’m not sure why Markus referred to me as a witch, though. I look at Chris as he pulls out the box with the diamond. Markus doesn’t even acknowledge Chris, so Chris hands me the box—again, something I never saw in my visions.
I feel his thoughts as I take the box from him. Don’t you dare offer yourself up as a sacrifice to save me!
I direct my gaze down to my hands. Have I been too obvious with my words and actions, causing Chris to draw the conclusion I might sacrifice myself? I glance up at Markus and probe his body, trying to detect any weakness, only to find none. I try for his future. Of course he doesn’t have one, and I have no reason to read his mind, so I hand him the box. I make sure our skin doesn’t touch. I don’t want to accidently extract his thoughts, like I did with Justin. I can only imagine what kind of mass hysteria that might cause.
The ghastly leader hesitantly takes the box. No doubt he fears the diamond’s power. He slowly opens the hinged lid and the other two members of his trio step forward. He examines the diamond closely and then confers quietly with the other two men. Markus then turns to the tent and waves his hand, and the hostages are ushered back inside.
Markus’s high voice roars out across the field, echoing against the mountains surrounding us, “You have betrayed us, Calli Courtnae! Where is the real stone?”
Chris’s and Justin’s eyes appear like they might burst from their sockets. Both of their mouths hang open. Sweat beads on my forehead. I know I need to speak truthfully, but misleadingly. “This is the diamond the gem cutter gave us,” I begin. “We are delivering the stone he personally handed us in his private office. The three of us were all present and are all present now at this delivery. We can all testify that is the diamond the gem cutter gave us.”
Markus states: “The Sanguine Diamond radiates intense power. This stone contains nothing. The diamond is so powerful it cannot be handled with bare skin.” He grabs the fake diamond out of the box and holds it out to prove his point. “This one is counterfeit. Where is the real stone, Miss Courtnae?”
I simply stare at him.
The three men turn away and huddle together.
“What’s happening?” Chris worries aloud.
Justin whispers, “We’ve been duped by Harold Bates. He’s sent us on a suicide mission.” Then Justin’s head whips in my direction. “Wait. He told us ‘sometimes the weakest can be the strongest.’ What did he mean by that, Calli?”
Before Justin can continue, the three Death Clan members turn back, and Markus says, “We will have retribution for this grand deception. All Runners will be held until the diamond is found. If anyone tries to flee, they will be killed. Runners, to your tent!”
The immense power and control the Death Clan leader has over all the clan members stuns me. Everyone fears for their lives, knowing the nightmarish men can kill them instantly. The Runners head into our tent. Our trio is the last to enter, followed by twenty or so Death Clan members.
Clara tries to talk with Markus but is ignored. Markus ushers me into the partitioned cubicle. Neither Justin nor Chris tries to accompany me this time.
How inconceivably odd it is to be alone with an alien-looking, two-hundred-year-old man.
“Care to explain the real situation, Miss Courtnae?”
“Believe me, if I knew why the master cutter would deceive both you and me, I would tell you.”
“Our witch tells me you know where the diamond is.”
“Your witch? May I talk to her?”
“She doesn’t wish to speak to you.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Why should we not?”
“Well, I’m new to this world of cosmic abilities, but one of the things I’ve learned is witches are not to be trusted. I find it rather amazing wise men of several hundred years of age would put any stock in what a potentially evil Spellcaster has to say.”
“Only someone with something to hide would say such things.”
“Perhaps she has cast a spell on you to make you believe her.”
“Tell me where the stone is!”
“We have given you the stone the master cutter gave us. That’s the only answer I can give you.”
“Fine. We’ll handle this matter a different way.”
Markus orders me to exit the cubicle and to go stand next to Chris and Justin. Markus then addresses all the Runners in the tent. “Until the real stone is presented to us, one member of your clan will die every day, starting right now.” A huge gasp drifts through the tent, and heads swivel back and forth. “Miss Courtnae will choose the first to die, for this trickery must be punished.”
I yell, “
We have not tricked you! We gave you the diamond Mr. Bates gave us. Surely you could give us one day to try to get an answer from him?”
The leader glares at me with soulless eyes. “The number of Runners in this tent is the same as the number of days you have to find us the stone before your clan is wiped from the face of the earth. Make your choice, Miss Courtnae.”
I’m on thin ice. I glance around the room, not in order to decide who will be first to die, but to take in the faces of my clan. I find trust, fear, respect, and angst permeating their thoughts and feelings. I hold one of their lives in my hands—at least that’s what they think. My eyes rest on Jonas, and my mind pauses for a second, knowing he is fated to die soon anyway. What would be the harm in offering him a quick, painless way out, a way that will satisfy the Death Clan leader at the same time? My stomach flips over at the horrific thought. No! I will never sacrifice anyone but myself. I look away from Jonas and scan the crowd. At length my eyes rest on Chris. I have foreseen this moment many times over. As if on cue, his mind tells me to choose him.
“Make your decision,” Markus thunders.
“I can’t. I cannot sentence a friend to death.”
“Very well. We shall hold a lottery. Numbers will be issued to all Runners.”
Time seems to move forward in slow motion as members of the Death Clan write numbers on pieces of paper. I get the idea the Death Clan makes a lot of their decisions this way: luck of the draw. They add insult to the impending injury by using the metal box Harold Bates gave us to hold the pieces of paper.
I glance around the crowd. Some of their minds reveal they are considering escape options, but hold back because of knowing how quickly the Death Clan can kill with their thoughts.
Two Death Clan members take the box around the tent, allowing each Runner to choose a number. This was not in my vision, but I know no matter what, I will not give up the stone willingly. It’s the only way to prevent them from becoming all powerful, and to also save Chris’s life.
“Now, you shall pull a number out of your head between one and one hundred, Miss Courtnae. You have ten seconds to do so.”
“You think you can make me condemn one of my friends to death? Forget it.”
“Unless you produce the stone, you’ll be condemning all your friends to death.”
I totally hadn’t foreseen this in my vision. I wonder if keeping the stone is the right decision, but I remember the vision with Chris. He will live because I will die.
“The number, Calli.”
“I cannot.”
Markus’s piercing stare burns into my eyes. “Then I’ll choose for you. The first to die is the Runner with number twenty—” He is interrupted by a disturbance spreading through the other Death Clan members. He looks over his shoulder and steps aside.
I cast a quick glance over at Chris. He turns his hand, showing me his number: twenty. He has sweat rolling down his forehead as he points his thumb to his chest.
The door to the tent pulls aside, and a small, withered, cadaverous old man steps inside and walks slowly to stand beside Markus. His face is creased with many centuries of decay, and his eyes glow with a cold, red flame. I quickly deduce this bent-over man is in fact the real leader of the Death Clan because all Death Clan members move back a couple of steps and bow their heads.
His voice rattles and quivers in a raspy whisper. He says to Markus, “Why are you going to kill to expose the diamond? The Runners have done nothing but try to appease us. They have risked much and have lost a great deal in journeying here to make the delivery. They are ambassadors for their clan, a clan we have need of and will need again in the future. Are you so willing to wipe them out, all because you are too weak to realize the truth?”
“My apologies, Great One, but realize what? What truth?”
“The Sanguine Diamond is right in front of you, in this very tent.”
“Master?”
“You do not sense its power? Its strength?”
“My apologies, Master. I do not.”
“Then it is your own folly.”
This shriveled up old man knows I have the diamond. He can sense it.
“The air is alive with its presence, and a peculiar energy emanates from its bearer. For you not to acknowledge this means you are weak and not fit to make decisions for the clan.”
“Master, I beg you—”
“You beg? Further verification you are not fit to lead. The counterfeit diamond was a decoy given as a means to attract those who would steal it before it could arrive here. Attempts were made, albeit unsuccessful. The genuine diamond was brought here through a different means. Everyone needed to be fooled, including the delivery-team members. And they were. Now, one of us will die to demonstrate our clan’s trustworthiness.”
“Master—”
“You will die because of your intention to harm the Runners simply because you are too pathetic to be a proper leader.”
“But Mast—” Markus’s eyes roll back in his head, and he drops to the ground, clutching his chest before finishing the word. His body convulses a few times before it stops moving.
The other Death Clan members bow their heads even lower out of respect for their ancient leader . . . or more likely because they don’t want to be next. The dead man named Markus must have terrified and terrorized many people over the past two hundred years, and yet in an instant it is all over for him.
I watch as the old man brings his eyes to mine, and wait for my death.
He straightens his posture, becoming taller and more intimidating. “How does an entire clan become fooled by one of their own?” His voice sounds different now, almost like he needed time to warm up his decrepit vocal chords. He speaks with a deep, rumbling, authoritative intonation. “By the least likely individual possible, the slowest. As time went on, she became your fastest. Every ability and power emerged in her, setting a precedent. But why? How? You must have asked yourselves this many times, yet no one thought to investigate further.”
My name travels through the crowd on whispers and gasps. I don’t look at anyone. I keep my eyes on the ancient leader.
He turns his head back to me. “Bring forth the diamond, Calli Courtnae.” His direct order almost pushes me backwards.
My vision into Chris’s future shows him living because I don’t give up the diamond. Do I give it now? Do I force them to kill me? I don’t know. I walk away from Chris and toward the little old man, trying to descry his future . . . but naturally he has none. That’s a good sign, I figure.
He stares at me, angling his head to the side, studying me, waiting for me to produce the stone. His eyes travel over my body, looking for the unmistakable bulge, but not finding anything.
I move to stand directly in front of him. “I will not give you the diamond.”
“You are afraid?”
“No, I’m not afraid to die.”
“Yet,” he points to Markus’s dead body, “you know that is what will happen to you.”
“Yes,” I say with confidence.
“Why? You could hand the stone over and live. You don’t have to die.”
Behind me, Chris whispers, “No, Calli. Give him the diamond if you have it.”
How can I even begin to explain this is the way it has to be in order to save the most amount of lives, including Chris’s?
“I won’t give you the diamond.” A monumental realization hits me: if I hand the pouch to this man, he will die. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? I don’t have time to look to the future to see if the results will be better than if I keep the stone. I decide not to change anything. The vision of keeping the stone had the best results in the overall sense.
His anger shoots through me. He opens his mind, and once I enter he blasts me with his thoughts. Stubborn girl. I don’t want to kill you, but you are making this impossible. Hand it over!
“It will kill you.”
He smiles, turns around and motions for one of his clansmen to give him something. W
hen he faces me again, he holds a basket with a handle.
“Place it in the basket.”
“No. If you want it, you’ll have to remove it from my pocket yourself.”
His eyes move to my pocket, then back up to my eyes. He puts his thoughts forward. I suppose you think you’re safe because you’re human. Yes, that’s right. I know about you. You’ve probably been told our clan only kills people with power. Well, Miss Courtnae, that’s not true. We can kill humans too. Is that what you want?
“I’m not afraid.” In truth, I’m scared to death.
His eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches. He places his hand on his forehead and closes his eyes for a moment. Then he glares at me and I read his thoughts. Clearly, you have a protection enchantment. My powers don’t work on you. We will kill you the old-fashioned way after we absorb the powers of the diamond.
I am speechless. He just tried to end my life . . . and failed!
His voice thunders through the tent. “Usher her to the altar. She will die for her insubordination after we extract the powers of the stone.”
Shouts of protest arise from everyone, but the one voice that matters most to me cuts to the absolute center of my soul. I hear Chris cry out, “No, Calli!” He shouts at the leader, “Me, take me!”