Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (24 page)

Her chest pounds into the ground, fingers curling into the long grass. Slowing counting down from ten, when she reaches zero, she will bolt upright and make a suicidal run for Ryzaard.

I’m coming for you, Matt.

Matt’s voice floats through her mind from a recent conversation. He had been trying to teach her a few yoga moves.

Relax the muscles in your body, fingertips to toes. Melt into the ground. Allow the breath to flow through your body. Focus on love, my love for you, your love for me. Open yourself up to all thoughts and feelings. Resist nothing. Let it all turn to peace as it moves in and out of your body.

Three breathing cycles pass. Her heart rate begins to drop.

Five, four, three . . .

Carefully reaching back, she pulls the pulse rifle from her shoulder and lays it in front. With both elbows balanced on the ground, she picks it up and stares down the barrel, aiming for the nearest solider as he turns off to the side.

As soon as she pulls the trigger, she’ll make a run for Ryzaard.

It will all be over in seconds.

Her index finger finds the warm metal and slowly squeezes.

The ground beneath her shifts and opens up like a gaping mouth.

Falling into the blackness, she lands hard on a floor of packed dirt. The hole in the roof closes above her.

The pulse rifle discharges into the dark. Dirt and rock explode not far from Jessica’s ears.

“They’ll discover the tunnels soon.” A woman’s voice pierces the emptiness. “We don’t have much time.”

A light comes on, and Jessica looks up.

A woman with long black hair and prominent cheekbones stands alone a few feet away. It’s Eva, the leader of the freedom camp, the woman Jessica and Matt met in a tent less than an hour before.

“I don’t understand.” Jessica jumps to her feet, dizzy, still grasping the pulse rifle, wanting to rush at Ryzaard. “How did I get here?”

“I opened one of the entrances to our underground tunnel system, hoping to pick up any survivors from the clearing.” Eva points to a lever on the wall. “Looks like you’re the only one. You must have been just above it.”

Jessica stumbles, and the tip of her pulse rifle swings past Eva.

“Steady, girl.” Eva reaches and gently pushes the barrel of the rifle down. “I’m here to help. Follow me.” She turns and runs a short distance in the opposite direction before stopping and turning back. “It’s our only chance. We’ve got to hurry before they seal off the other end.”

Vibrations from above the roof filter in, like a herd of buffalo running somewhere above them in the darkness. Chunks of dirt rain drop from the ceiling on Jessica.

She tries to remember the last image of Matt. And then she remembers that he was gone after the brilliant flash of light. Only Ryzaard was left standing on the field.

Matt is gone.

The thought slams into Jessica with full force. She can’t comprehend it and pushes it away.

“Come on!” Eva shouts from ten meters down the tunnel. “You’re no good to anyone if you’re dead.”

Jessica turns and runs to catch up.

Eva turns back, her dark eyes barely visible. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

Jessica nods.

“Then
you
are the leader now.”

“I don’t understand. I can’t—”

“We might have a chance
if
we outrun them.” Eva looks in the darkness beyond. “They’ll be doing EM scans of the entire area. They’ll pick up the signature of my light if they haven’t already. We’re going to have to do this in the dark. Give me your hand.

“What?” Jessica says.

“Give me your hand.”

Jessica puts her hand out in front of her.

Eva slips the loop of a rope over Jessica’s wrist and pulls it tight.

“Stay with me. We’re going to fly.” Eva’s light goes out, flooding the tunnel with utter blackness.

Jessica is totally blind. “But how can you—”

“No time to argue,” Eva says. “Photographic memory. Trust me. And don’t drop the rifle.”

The rope goes taut, jerking Jessica forward into a black void. Even though her feet are running across the ground, she
does
have the sense they are flying.

M
y two darlings.

Jhata returns to the table opposite Leo and Yarah, both of them still asleep. She hops lightly inside Leo’s mind and finds the seas calm and peaceful. Many unexplored regions remain. More treasures to be carefully uncovered and exploited.

Satisfaction spreads through her mind as she contemplates her contact with this new world with eleven Stones that produced a man such as Matt.

The only living being to pass through the Eye of the Universe unscathed.

It’s just a matter of time before his world joins her empire. For now, she is happy to let the man named Ryzaard do the hard work of uniting it under his control.

Patience and time. She has plenty of both.

Withdrawing from Leo’s mind, Jhata moves closer to Yarah and places the palms of her hands on Yarah’s neck. The pristine young mind of the girl lies open, unguarded, inviting. It calls to Jhata like a cool mountain spring calls out to a parched throat.

Just a sip.

With the gentleness of a silk thread, Jhata closes her eyes and slips inside Yarah’s consciousness. Immediately, Jhata luxuriates in the chaotic mix of colors and sound, filling her own senses with delight. The intoxicating scent of morning dew on freshly mowed grass floats across open plains. A white horse with a black mane gallops in slow motion at the foot of an immense slab of rock the size of a mountain that rises up out of the prairie floor at an angle, like a knife carelessly tossed away by the creators of worlds. The light of two large suns, one yellow and one red, bath the land in a golden glow.

Yarah is dreaming.

Jhata scans her surroundings as the ground shakes beneath her feet. Massive claws thrust up through a pool of mud only a few meters away. A black creature pulls itself out of the filth until it stands upright on hairy hind feet. It has the shape of a bear with a long neck and boxy head. White fangs protrude from its dark mouth. Its sore-infested hide reeks with the stench of rotting flesh.

Still dressed in her fairy godmother dress, Jhata slowly backs away from the dark specter. The sudden appearance of this monster puts her in a delicate position. If she exits too quickly, she risks attracting its attention, and with it, the attention of Yarah.

Like Jhata, the price the little girl pays for her mind-seeing abilities is that her dreams are unusually vivid and easily remembered. Yarah might become suspect if she recalls seeing Jhata in this netherworld.

As the beast’s eyes sweep the plain toward Jhata, she looks in vain for a place to hide or an object to hide behind. The flat prairie is featureless. The best she can do is lie in the grass, hide her own form, remain motionless, and hope that she stays out of mind and unseen.

Jhata curses herself. This is precisely the risk of careless mind-skimming, and she hates herself for giving in to the temptation.

As she lies in the wet grass, the beast falls silent. Perhaps it’s gone. In dreams, especially the dreams of children, such creatures come and go with random abandon.

Jhata ventures a look up.

Damn.

The great black head hangs directly over her, small white eyes staring, head cocked to the side like a curious puppy.

She freezes, avoiding eye contact.

The beast grunts, and then swings a clawed hand, open palmed, in a great circle that will terminate in a slash across Jhata’s chest.

Springing up into the air, Jhata arches into a back flip as the claws pass inches beneath her shoulder blades, catching the fabric of the dress and ripping a large piece completely away. Landing on her feet and still facing the monster, she sprints forward and past it.

An ear-splitting roar breaks from the beast’s mouth.

As Jhata shoots across the plain, the beast is in close pursuit.

You won’t take me this easy, Yarah.

The green grass is soft under her feet. It’s better to keep running than risk a direct confrontation with the figment of the little girl’s imagination. In the world of Yarah’s mind, the little girl is lord and master. The best Jhata can hope for is that a shift in the unstable strata of Yarah’s mind will provide a way out.

Without warning, massive shards of green glass the size of tree trunks explode out of the ground on either side of Jhata, raining dirt and broken crystal on her. Across the plain, thousands of the spikes burst through the prairie grass, looking like three day’s stubble on a drunken man’s chin.

Jhata stumbles through the forest of spikes, weaving in and out to avoid slamming into one.

The beast is close behind, unrelenting in its pursuit, running in a straight line, oblivious to the glass spikes, shattering them into fragments that fall like daggers to the ground.

Up ahead, Jhata draws close to the sheer sides of the rock cliff thrusting through the prairie floor at an angle. In another few seconds, she will run up against it, her back literally to the wall with no path of escape. But she doesn’t dare turn to the left or right, afraid of giving the beast a shorter line to intercept her.

The breath of the creature changes from a heavy, labored sound to a more silken and fluid tone, almost melodious.

Jhata takes a quick glance over her shoulder.

The dark beast has morphed into a white dragon covered with lustrous scales and a satin underbelly. It has blue feathers on its head, two pairs of legs and wings folded close to its serpentine body. Lifting up its head, it leaps into the air, passing over Jhata in a great arc, sweeping its tail over her, knocking her to the ground into a sea of broken glass.

It stops ten meters away at the base of the cliff wall, standing in full profile and focusing steely eyes upon her.

She picks herself off the ground, remnants of her dress hanging in strips from her shoulders. Blood drips from a hundred cuts and abrasions.

Jhata has only one thought in her mind.

If I die here, Yarah will take all my Stones.

The columns of green glass vanish across the plain, sucked back into the ground. As she turns to run, a ring of fire springs up, enclosing Jhata and the dragon, its walls reaching a hundred meters into the sky.

Yarah, please wake up and release me.

A piercing cry rains down from the sky.

A black dragon circles overhead, its snake-like body a perfect match to the white beast staring at Jhata. The two dragons exchange shrieks and snarls, the one on the ground looking back and forth between Jhata and its mate in the sky.

And then she understands.

They’re planning an attack.

The airborne dragon draws its wings in and swoops. Bracing herself, Jhata gets ready to spring away at the last minute.

If only I could use my Stone.

Jhata knows from long experience that she
can
use a Stone while inside another’s mind. She can come and go as she pleases.

But those luxuries fall away when the dreaming starts. Once a dream pulls her in, all bets are off. She is like an actor in a movie, part of the dreamer’s consciousness, totally at her mercy, without a Stone or an exit.

The dragon’s wings shoot out like airbrakes, and a black sphere drops from the claws of its hind leg, landing on the ground only a few meters from Jhata.

She backs away until the heat of the wall of fire singes what’s left of her clothes.

The sphere bursts open, spilling out thousands of tiny worm-like creatures. Their bodies squirm and writhe, spreading out like a pool of black oil.

The white dragon lands at the edge of the pool. Rearing back its head, it sprays fire on the black worms. For a moment, the flames spread to their bodies, and it looks as if they will be consumed in the inferno.

But then Jhata realizes they’re growing larger, feeding on the flames like yeast feeds on sugar.

The white dragon and its mate leap into the sky, circling overhead, a giant ying and yang, waiting for the inevitable conclusion.

The black worms grow in the flames until they are the size of cats. The fire burns out, and the worms charge.

Jhata freezes in place until the black tide reaches her feet. Unable to escape, the worms flow over her, climbing up her legs, burning and flaying her skin, consuming her flesh to the bone.

She sinks, swimming in a sea of chaos, slowing losing consciousness, her life draining away.

So this is how it ends for the mighty Jhata?

And then, as quickly as it began, the black worms vanish, along with the dragons and the grassy prairie, leaving behind only silence and stillness. The grip of the dream falls away.

Jhata, her body riddled with holes, lies in the center of a bare white plain running to the horizon in every direction.

It is finished.

Summoning the last of her strength, she closes her eyes and leaves the dream space behind.

When Jhata opens her eyes, she is sitting at the table, across from Yarah and Leo.

Yarah is just waking up.