Page 10 of Thorn Fall


  I eyed the road, wondering if it might be worth trying to find a way around the locked gate after all. But Zelda might lose the rest of her tires if we tried to drive over that chewed up mess.

  “Any chance you’d consider trading your Jag in for a Jeep, Temi?” I asked.

  “A Jeep? You don’t think a monster hunter should have a sleek and sexy car?”

  “Jeeps are sexy. Some of them even have doors.” I waved for Alek and Temi to stay at the trailhead, then headed back to the van. “I’ll tell Simon we’re going for a walk.”

  Chapter 8

  We ultimately decided on walking up the trail instead of following the road. After looking at a map online, I had been afraid we would miss the turnoff for the rock formation if we didn’t. I had started regretting that decision right away. Even with the flashlight, I slipped and tripped constantly on the rugged terrain, and I kept getting clawed at by the bushes and short trees guarding the sides of the trail. The darkness that hemmed us in made me uneasy as well. Someone could have been within two feet on either side of me, and I would not have known it.

  Up ahead, Temi’s sword was a far more effective nightlight. If I could keep up with her, I would be happy to bask in its glow, but she and her six feet of height were striding along at a pace I struggled to match. Every now and then, she paused to wait for me—and Simon, who was trudging along behind me while muttering about not having time to complete his weapons, but it always seemed like an afterthought, as if something else was distracting her. Alek jogged in and out of the influence of our lights. He either had excellent night vision or was better at relying on his other senses than the rest of us. Since he had grown up a couple of thousand years before electricity was invented, that was probably a given.

  Now and then, an animal scurried away from our approach with a rattling of branches, but quietness reigned on the trail for the most part, with only the soft thud of our footsteps sounding in the night. Even though we hadn’t gone more than a couple of miles, and there had to be houses around here and there, I hadn’t seen any light or sign of human activity since we left the parking area. Sedona had an ordinance against light pollution, so it felt like we were much farther out in the wild than we were.

  When Iron Maiden’s Can I Play with Madness? burst from one of the phones, it was as jarring as a horn blaring. I tripped and nearly face-planted in a cactus. My first thought was that Simon had changed my ringtone again, but he had changed his.

  He groaned, “Of course there’s reception out here,” then answered with a, “Yeah?”

  Since he didn’t get many calls, being far more of an email and text fan, my first thought was that the police had run his license plate and gotten his phone number. But I didn’t think even he would answer the police department with a yeah. Though curious, I kept walking and let him fall behind to give him his privacy. The murmurs of his conversation drifted up the trail. I paused at a bend. He didn’t have a flashlight, so I didn’t want him to get too far behind, but I was also aware of Temi still walking up ahead.

  “Temi?” I called softly, reluctant to shout. If something predatory lived out here… I didn’t want to wake it up.

  She disappeared over a hill.

  “Great.”

  Simon didn’t talk for long. He caught up with me, waving for me to continue on.

  “Trouble?” I asked when he didn’t volunteer any information about the call.

  “No. Not tonight anyway.”

  “Ah, future trouble. My favorite kind.”

  He grunted but didn’t offer one of his witty comebacks. I resolved not to pry and jogged up the hill after Temi, not slowing down until she came into sight again. A shape stepped out of the shadows in front of me, and my startled toes tried to trip me once again. A hand caught my arm.

  “Alek,” he said, though I had guessed by then. I was more worried about something flying out of the shadows than someone stepping out of them. “Empty,” he added, then jogged after Temi, his sandals landing softly, kicking up dust. He veered into the brush again before he reached her.

  “It’s like hiking through the Underdark with Drizzt Do’Urden,” Simon said.

  “Well, he does have that elf blood.” Remembering my earlier thought about the quality of his night vision, I wondered if maybe people who had the mixed heritage actually did see better in the dark.

  “Not as much as Temi though, right? Judging by the way the sword glows more for her than for him.”

  “I guess not. Nobody’s explained the rules to me.”

  “It’s rude, isn’t it?” Simon asked.

  “Very much so.”

  After we trotted along in silence for a few more minutes, Simon volunteered, “That was my brother. He wants to come down to visit.” He sounded glum at this news.

  I had met Marcus during summer break one year and thought he was a nice guy, but Simon had some little-brother jealousy issues. “Because he wants to escape the perpetual gray gloom of the Olympic Peninsula, or because he wants to check up on you?”

  “He likes the gloom,” Simon said. Gloomily. “I guess he found the webpage. Not the company one, but my… entertaining, useful, and fame-creating offshoot.”

  “The monster blog.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, he showed Mom, and apparently the whole family is worried for my sanity now. You’re lucky your family is doing the eco version of being Amish.”

  Even if I knew what he meant, I choked at the notion of my very Greek Orthodox family being associated with the Amish. Yiayia would throw one of her Virgin Mary icons at Simon. “Their lack of Internet and cell phones is handy at times,” I said, even if I had hated it as a kid. “I do get a mouthful if I don’t send my monthly letter home.”

  “A monthly letter that doesn’t mention monsters, I assume.”

  “No, it usually mentions how devout and regular I am with my prayers and how hard I’m trying to find a suitable Greek husband.”

  Simon snorted. “Well, maybe you can take Alek home for a visit, and they’ll actually believe the last thing.”

  “Uhhh.” That drawn-out syllable was all I could manage at the images of interrogation that flooded into my head. My parents had been born in the United States, but my grandparents were another story. They would know right away that Alek’s Greek was a little off, assuming I got him to the point where he spoke modern Greek fluently, and they would see through any cover story we came up with as soon as they started asking him about his upbringing.

  “What? You’re not scheming on how to make him yours yet? I thought that was what the tight jeans were about.”

  “Those were the only pants there that would fit him, and you know it.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  “Look, he’s…” I lowered my voice on the chance that Alek was skulking nearby and could understand what we were saying. “Like I told you, he was married. He was kidnapped and never saw his wife and unborn baby again. Even if he was with the elves for some time before being locked in that box, I don’t think he’s gotten over her yet.”

  “Oh.” Simon kicked at a low branch as he walked past it. “It’s weird, isn’t it? It shouldn’t matter anymore—what our parents think—but it does.”

  “I suppose you never stop wanting them to feel proud of you.”

  “I aim to get that. I’m just… Well, sometimes it’s hard to explain the steps, you know? You want to just wait until you’ve made your way to the solution to the equation, and then you’ll show them, when you have something that will make them happy. And yes, proud of you.”

  “I know.”

  “Delia?” came Temi’s call from up the trail, an uncertain tone in her voice that made my stomach sink.

  “Yes?” I switched to a jog again to catch up with her.

  She was gazing toward the north, toward a ridge of dark bumpy rock silhouetted against the stars. “The sword is pulling me that way.”

  Were those the Cow Pies? I had never been up this trail before, and I couldn’t tell in the d
ark. Maybe they were under the ridge. Actual cow pies were flat, right? And pie-like. Not that the sword necessarily wanted to visit a rock formation. Maybe there were more pictographs out here somewhere, and it wanted to lead us toward them. Or maybe it wanted to lead us to the flying thorn flinger for an epic showdown.

  I flicked my flashlight toward Simon as he caught up. He had brought his laptop satchel, and it had been clanking all the way up the trail.

  “Got any grenades or flamethrowers in there for me?” I asked, figuring he had his arsenal. I wanted more than my whip if we had to fight a jibtab.

  “I’d have more if we hadn’t been in such a hurry to run up the trail.” Nonetheless, Simon opened his satchel and held out two canisters for me. “Greek fire for the Greek lady. The ignition system is primitive, since I’ve practically been limited to stone knives and bearskins for tools, but pull that tab and throw. If that doesn’t work, I have matches too.”

  Temi watched our discussion with her eyebrows elevated. “You think the sword is pulling us into a fight?”

  “I’m hoping for cave paintings and a chance to gather thorns, but I want to be prepared.” I wished I knew how far up the trail the tourists’ bodies had been found. Without that information, finding samples to replace the ones we had lost would be difficult at best. I decided not to hope that the creature showed up to fling fresh ones at us, even if logically I knew that might be the best way to get venom that Autumn could examine and send to her buddy for the creation of an antivenom.

  Alek walked into the sphere of light cast by the sword. He had been farther up the path, and he pointed over his shoulder. “Trail,” he said in Greek. That word must not have come up in the barnyard section of the program. He moved his finger until it pointed off to the north, toward the ridge.

  “He must mean that the trail branches,” Simon said. “I saw that when I looked it up. You have to go off a bit to reach the Pies.”

  “So the sword does want to go there,” I said.

  Temi shrugged. “Apparently.”

  We let Alek lead us to the spot where the trail turned off. I carried Simon’s napalm bombs—Greek fire, indeed—dutifully, but found myself hoping for more pictographs. Wouldn’t it be brilliant if the sword was leading us to the answers of its own origins? Origins that some Sinagua shaman had painted for posterity centuries ago? Unlike the sword and the monsters, the pictographs were something I could share with the archaeological community. Maybe a significant enough find would even make a difference in… I hated to think, clearing my name, as if I were some criminal, but other words didn’t come to mind.

  “Is it just me or is the sword glowing more brightly?” Simon asked.

  “It does seem brighter.” Granted, we were closer to Temi now, but I had turned off my flashlight when I accepted the grenades, and hadn’t noticed the lack.

  “If I get a call from whatever agency monitors the light pollution here, I’m making you explain it to them.”

  The brush thinned, and sloping rock walls came into view. The sword’s glow wasn’t enough to make out the entire formation, but I had a feeling we had reached our Cow Pies.

  Temi halted and looked back at me. “It’s trembling.”

  “What is? The sword?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s alarming,” Simon said. “I wouldn’t have expected a sword to tremble in fear.”

  “Vibrating might be a better word.” Temi flipped the blade so the hilt extended toward me. “Here, feel.”

  I approached warily but accepted the sword. As soon as Temi let go, and before I could feel anything, the glow vanished, leaving us in darkness.

  “You forgot. I’m not worthy,” I said, trying not to feel inadequate by the sword’s judgment, or its disinterest in me as a wielder, anyway.

  “Sorry.” Temi laid her palm on the side of the blade.

  The glow returned. A moment later, the faint vibrations pulsed against my hand. It reminded me of the hum of energy one felt when walking under big electrical lines.

  “Did it do anything like this when we were looking at those paintings today?” I asked.

  “No.”

  So much for the hope that it was leading us to another undiscovered Sinagua cave. “This is the first time?”

  “Yes.”

  I returned the sword to her and looked around for Alek, figuring he was the only one here who might have knowledge of the elven technology. He had disappeared into the brush again.

  Simon came over and laid a finger on the side of the sword. “Too bad the granny wanted to call the police instead of hanging out with us. She would be sure we’ve found a vortex. Would have made her whole vacation.”

  “Huh.” I propped a hand on my waist, studying the sword anew. “I was thinking of it as a divining rod earlier. What if it really is?”

  “Really is what?” Simon asked. “For… vortexes?”

  “How can you be skeptical about their existence in light of all of the weirdness that’s happened to us lately?”

  “Are you saying you believe in them?”

  “Not necessarily, but I’m approaching this with an open mind.” I waved to Temi. “And a vibrating sword.”

  “What did the girl say?” Temi asked. “That people who are aligned a certain way can feel vibrations when they’re standing in an energy spot?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Do you two feel anything?”

  “I felt the sword vibrating,” Simon said.

  Temi shook her head. “I mean when you’re not touching it.”

  “No,” Simon and I said at the same time.

  “Why?” I added. “Do you?”

  “I… Maybe it’s my imagination, but when I let go of the sword, I still feel like I’m… I don’t know. Humming.”

  “Like being under an electrical line?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  We all looked up at the sky, as if we expected to see the cables from high-powered electrical poles running overhead. The Milky Way stretched across the sky but nothing else.

  “So Temi is vibrating, but Delia and I aren’t,” Simon said thoughtfully.

  “Maybe I’m crazy,” Temi said.

  “Maybe not.” I had a guess as to what Simon was thinking, because I was thinking it too. “Alek? Are you close?”

  No more than a few seconds passed before he stepped onto the trail beside me. I searched his face, trying to tell if he too might feel what Temi felt. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that easy to read, other than that constant cloak of melancholy that was a permanent part of his panoply. But he seemed more intrigued than morose now. Finding the night exhilarating? Or uniquely interesting? I hadn’t grabbed the tablet, so I had to grope for the words to communicate the question to him. Ancient Greeks hadn’t spoken about electrical towers in many of their epic poems.

  I pointed at his chest. “Do you feel… power? Lightning?” They weren’t the right words, but they were words I knew. If he felt something, he ought to catch on.

  He nodded slowly. “You?”

  “Not me, not Simon, but Temi, yes.”

  Alek considered Temi; actually, he was considering the sword.

  “Another perk of elven blood?” Simon asked. “Vibrating in the presence of… vortexes?” He couldn’t manage to say the word without a skeptical eyebrow twitch.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” I said. “Feeling the presence of something, anyway.”

  “Does that mean all the nuts who come here and think they feel vortexes aren’t nuts, after all? They just have elven ancestors?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll let you run that by Naomi’s grandmother.”

  “Do we continue on?” Temi asked.

  “Does the sword want you to?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then by all means.” I waved toward the trail. I didn’t think it went much farther, but maybe we could climb up onto the Cow Pies themselves. The sloping walls appeared friendlier to ascend than those of the canyo
n from the morning. “I should have looked at one of the vortex maps online,” I said. “If memory serves, there are supposed to be specific spots on or near the formations.”

  Simon dug out his phone. “Enh, we’ve wandered into a dead zone. Maybe we can get service from up top.”

  “Does your memory say what’s supposed to happen when you’re standing in a vortex?” Temi asked.

  “I think you feel peaceful and Zen. Although at least one site talks about portals, remember.” I thought of the pictographs. What rock formation had that been in the drawing? Not the Cow Pies. I would have to look at the supposed vortex spots later and see if I could find a match.

  “Portal to where?” Temi asked, turning to follow the trail along the base of the rock.

  “I have no idea.”

  “The elf world?” Simon asked. “For the record, I don’t believe that a portal is going to open, but it would be the coolest thing ever if I was wrong.”

  “Would it?” Temi asked softly.

  I looked at her sharply.

  “I was thinking of the painting,” she explained. “Didn’t it seem like that guy on the rock was trying to close the portal or fight whatever was coming out of it?”

  “Hm, maybe? You think the sword would lead us to something dangerous? You’re its wielder. Isn’t it supposed to keep you safe?”

  “Jakatra didn’t mention that it would feel any fondness for me,” Temi said dryly. “I also don’t think it’s a spirit or a being or whatever you’re thinking. More like a tool with some… features.” She turned to face the rock. “It looks like we can climb up over there.”

  “Are we sure we want to?” I asked.

  We had come out to look for venom samples, not find vortexes or portals. Also, Temi’s lack of confidence in the notion that the sword had good intentions made me pause, reminding me we still knew nothing about it.

  Alek knelt near the base of the rock, touching wheel tracks in the dust. Had he seen a bicycle yet? I didn’t know.

  “The people the police found today weren’t on bikes, were they?” Simon asked. “They rented an ATV, so we might actually be more likely to find them up on the road. Maybe it wasn’t closed yet at that point.”