Matt Archer: Redemption (33 page)

* * *

We approached the rock fortress slowly. Murphy had insisted on carrying the rocket launcher, loaded with a single blood-smeared rocket. The rest we left behind with Nguyen, who’d assumed command and was busy ordering the National Guard in recovery efforts for our wounded. Unfortunately, we’d found no trace of the middle school students or hikers. The sand had taken them.

Klimmett brought a small med-kit. “Anything needing more serious attention, we’ll have the National Guard medevac them. They have a helicopter.”

The dunes had been churned every which way by the fortress and walking was hard. By the time we reached the outskirts, all of us were sweating. As we got closer, the crags and cliffs started to take on distinct shapes: towers, a balcony, and something that looked suspiciously like a castle gate complete with drawbridge. Dark, square openings on the ground floor seemed almost like observation windows. I wondered if he was watching us approach.

And now that we were here, did we walk right in? Or was there some kind of password?

Murphy shuffled past me, squinting at the gate. “It’s open. Should we—”

With a startled yell, he flung his arms out, dropping the rocket launcher, and was dragged forward. I chased after him—there was a rope of some kind wrapped around his ankle.

“Watch out for traps!” I shouted at the others as I tried to catch up to Murph. By now, he’d reached the castle gate.

The rope hoisted him up in the air by one leg, like an animal in a snare. Before I closed the distance, a curved black blade swung out of the shadowed entry and something dark hurtled my way.

Murphy’s head rolled to a stop at my feet.

The thing inside the fortress laughed, and the sound receded, like it had gone farther in. Holding my hand over my mouth—to keep from puking or screaming, I didn’t know—I ran back to the team. All of them were frozen in place, watching the gate.

It didn’t take long for my rage to catch up with my horror. Tink was practically singing with it; her anger fed mine and vice versa. “Wielders, we’re going in.”

Aunt Julie turned to Uncle Mike. Rising to her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

It was the closest thing to goodbye she could’ve said, and Uncle Mike looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. For a minute, I wondered if he’d stop her, order her to stay, but he didn’t. He stepped aside.

Julie joined Will, Jorge and Ramirez at my side. I nodded at each of them in turn. “Close watch, blades out.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Ramirez murmured.

“Right behind you, man,” Will said.

I headed for the drawbridge, careful to avoid looking at Murphy’s head lying on the sand. It was harder at the gate, because his body hung there, upside down, and blood stained the rock. Clutching the knife tight, I took one slow step, then another, half-expecting the Shadow Man to leap out at me. But he didn’t, and I crossed through the gate. Inside there was a small entryway made of stone, with a long hall curving off to the left. They weren’t making it hard to find him. Then again, that was the point, wasn’t it?

I turned and waved for the others to follow. Will started forward. When he got even with the door, he bounced backward so fast he landed on his butt and skidded across the stone drawbridge.

Jorge’s shoulders sagged. With sad eyes, he said, “I was afraid of this.”

Ramirez gave him a wary look and tried to follow me, and ended up tossed on his back for his trouble.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why can’t you get in?”

Will started to take a running leap at the opening, but Jorge held up a fist. “Stop! You’ll only injure yourself.”

Then Jorge did something that shocked me to no end. He dropped to one knee with his head bowed. “Our knives are forfeit.”

“What does that mean?” Will snapped. “I can still hear Coach Shaw!”

Jorge pinned him with a cold stare. “And what is he telling you?”

Will went quiet, then started shaking his head. “I won’t let Matt go in there by himself.”

“It’s no use, Cruessan,” Ramirez said. “We’re at the endgame. It was always going to be Archer. We knew that, ever since Africa. It’s time, that’s all.” He knelt heavily next to Jorge. “I defer to the Sentinel.”

I swallowed hard, but I knew—I had to go alone. The Master had told me as much. I’d have to face the darkness by myself.

Not alone.

In answer to Tink, four other voices whispered,
never alone, never alone, for we are with you.

Jorge nodded. “We are with you.”

He laid his knife down at the edge of the gateway, and pushed it toward me. Energy crackled when it met the barrier, but the knife came through. Ramirez pushed his through. Aunt Julie knelt, giving me a stern nod, and sent her knife across as well.

That left Will, who was still standing. “Matt, I
can’t
.”

I knew what he was saying. And he really couldn’t. The thought of giving up his knife so I could take it and go off to die wasn’t in his DNA.

I held out a hand. “I have to go on—there isn’t a choice. What I need from you now is a promise.” My throat tightened up. “If I don’t make it out, I need you to look after my mom, okay? If I fail, if I can’t save Mamie, she’ll lose all three of us. I want you to be there for her. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” His response was barely a whisper. “I’ll take care of her.” Will’s eyes filled with tears. “But if you don’t come back, I’ll hunt down your ghost and kick its ass. Understand?”

“Yeah, man, I understand. Ghostly-ass-kicking,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’ll see you on the other side, okay?”

Drawing in a jerky breath, Will fell to one knee by Ramirez, who clapped him on the back. He laid his knife down, and pushed it through.

I stared at the four knives on the ground at my feet, each one different, but all the same. Figuring out how to carry them all wasn’t easy. I held mine in my right hand and Will’s in my left, since I had combat experience with those two. The others I shoved through my belt or sheathed in Tink’s thigh-pocket.

Ready, I turned my back on the other wielders and went to find the Shadow Man.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The hallway was pitch dark, as I knew it had to be. The only light came from my blade’s faint blue glow. The stone walls were rough and the floor was uneven, and I tripped or whacked my arms more than once. As I fumbled my way forward, Tink fed me a quiet stream of encouragement, echoed four times over by male voices—two familiar, two foreign. If anything, it made me more anxious.

The hall wound around, doubling back on itself in a few places, before ending at a doorway. Inside was a large, square room with a vaulted ceiling so far overhead, I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see how far back the room went, either; shadows swallowed all of it up.

Worse, the windows we’d seen from outside lined the wall to my left but they were as dark as the ceiling and the back walls. I wondered, though, if they were like a two-way mirror. Could my team see inside? God, I hoped not.

A chuckle that set my teeth on edge floated out of the darkness. “So, you came after all.”

“Where’s my sister?” I asked, not in the mood for games.

“Close.”

Chains rattled at the back of the room. “I’m here, Matt.”

She sounded so tired. Weak, too. I closed my eyes. “And you’re coming home with me.”

“Only if you can take her.” A smudged form slowly broke away from the deep pitch and came into the faint light my knife made. A powerfully built man, made of darkness and blurred around the edges like his master, stood before me. His face was nearly featureless, except for indentations for a mouth, eyes and nose, but his muscles were distinct. He held the curved spear I’d seen in both cave drawings and his master’s hand.

“Like it?” the Shadow Man asked, holding out the spear. “Forged to more than match your blades, I assure you.”

I didn’t doubt it. Ann’s access to Jorge when he created the knives meant the Dark Master knew exactly how they’d been made. “Let’s put that to the test.”

The Shadow Man swung the spear back and forth like a pendulum. “Want to tell your sister goodbye first?”

“Want to tell your master goodbye first?” I asked, a bitter taste filling my mouth. I realized it was fear.

Steady,
Tink whispered.

Steady, steady, steady, steady,
the others answered.

I shook out my arms, letting Tink’s strength feed mine. I’d killed countless monsters. I’d fought primes to strike down each point of the star. This was just another boss battle.

The outcome of which decided the fate of the world.

Tightening my grip on the knives in my hands, I made a “come here” gesture at the Shadow Man. Posturing to be sure, but he didn’t know that.

He laughed and shook his head.

Stalemate.

While I was contemplating the first move to make, he struck. Not expecting it, I barely got my knife up in time to block the blow. The crash of the spear against my blade sent a shock wave down my arm. Jolted out of my fear, I tried to undercut him with Will’s knife, but he knocked my wrist aside before I so much as scratched him.

He shoved me away hard. I tipped over and hit the stone floor flat on my back. Something vital popped and my left shoulder screamed in agony. He rushed me and I rolled, wincing as sparks flew from the rock right next to my head when his spear struck.

I crawled to my feet and circled around. My shoulder was hurt pretty badly; I wasn’t going to be able to use that arm much longer. Maybe if I could get away from him for a second, I could cut through Mamie’s chains so she could run. If my destiny was to be the ultimate distraction, then so be it, as long as my sister got away to fulfill her own.

The Shadow Man saw through my plan. He swung his spear at my legs, forcing me to jump over it. I backed away, heading for the archway. I didn’t know what I was planning to do—panic made for ugly decisions—and found out real quick that the barrier keeping my team out was also there to keep me in. I bounced off the opening and barely had time to duck a blow aimed at my neck.

Tink was feeding me everything she had, plus energy from the other spirits, but I still couldn’t keep up with this thing. Every strike I made, he countered, while I had all I could handle staying out of his reach.

He was too strong for me, and he knew I was tiring.

The monster backed me into a corner of the room and sliced my left arm, widening my wound from earlier. Will’s knife fell out of my hand and skidded across the floor. I tried to reach for Julie’s, but I couldn’t make a fist. I ducked under my enemy’s arm to get clear, and he slashed my back, sending me tumbling to the opposite wall. Trying to ignore the pain, I sheathed my knife, drew Ramirez’s and threw it at his head.

The Shadow Man caught it. He caught the knife—by the blade.

Laughing, he flipped it over and flung it back at me. It struck my collarbone. It cut me, but by some magic of the blade, it didn’t go straight through my flesh. Rather, it bounced off the bone and clattered against the rocks.

Mamie moaned in the dark, and that sound hurt worse than any injury. She knew I was losing. So did I.

I wouldn’t just roll over and play dead, though. I had three knives left. I’d keep mine for last, so I reached for Julie’s.

He knocked it out of my hands easily before I even had a good grip on it.

I skittered away and grabbed Jorge’s knife. It pulsed with power and I countered a rain of blows from the Shadow’s dark spear, even managing to scratch his arm. Dancing in close, I smeared my blood on the cut, then jumped clear.

The Shadow Man looked down at his arm, the up at me with this “aren’t you stupid” expression. He let out a disappointed sigh. “That won’t work on me. See, I was forged and fed with your blood.” He glanced into the darkness that held my sister captive and laughed. “Not a willing donor, but from what I hear, your brother won’t be needing it back.”

My heart sank; the minion with blood on its claws had taken some back to its master. No wonder the Shadow was so strong—he’d been fed by Archer blood. Brent’s blood.

He swung again, knocking Jorge’s knife free. My right hand was bruised to hell by now and I had no power to stop it. Then his blade swiped a clean cut across my abdomen. Not deep. None of his cuts were deep, just enough to cause a good amount of pain. In a way, I thought he was toying with me. Keeping me alive as long as possible to see how much I could endure before I stopped being good entertainment.

The Shadow Man paced back and forth like a caged beast, slowly swinging that deadly curved spear. Panting, I gathered myself for one last attempt, holding the only knife I had left.

“Tink,” I gasped, “Make it a good one.”

Steadying my weakened limbs, I lunged, trying to get inside of the Shadow’s long reach. The spear’s blade whistled past my ribs and I danced out of its way. He swung again, and this time I wasn’t fast enough.

A fresh slash mark, deeper than the others, opened up across my chest. Shaking, I held up my knife, while Mamie sobbed, crying for me.

For
me
, not herself. Was that what my nightmares meant all along? Had she screamed my name in those dreams not because she was in pain, but because
I
was?

Chuckling, the Shadow picked up Jorge’s knife and threw it. I was so tired and my reaction time was so slow—I saw it coming, but the blade drove itself through my shoulder, pinning me to the rock wall before I could try to block it.

It seemed that the knives could and would hurt me now. Their magic for keeping me safe was forfeit. Like my life.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled the knife free, and cried out with the pain of it. The tip had broken off, probably lodged in my shoulder blade. Barely able to hold myself up, I dropped Jorge’s knife and staggered forward again. I wouldn’t die on my knees. This had to be for something. If I could gather enough strength to free Mamie …

The Shadow Man sighed, like I was trying his patience. He swept up Ramirez’s knife and flung it. This time, it wasn’t the blade that hit me, but the handle. It struck me with the force of a jackhammer, cracking a couple of ribs. I fell against the wall, unable to move and my knife clattered to the floor.