KINUBAL’S SORROW

Even with the light it was difficult to see, and I let my hand brush alongside the rough stone wall as we descended. However, once we reached the bottom and turned right into the tunnel, the white stone walls reflected enough light so that I could see clearly once more. The tunnel walls were round like a tube until they reached the floor on either side, where they became flat as a board, the passage so wide a four horse wagon team could have driven straight down the middle. “Jack,” I whispered, “who built this?”

“Durned if I know,” he whispered back. “Naamah told me these tunnels were here when the Eldarion first built the city where Campeche is now.”

“Is it part of the Sac’be?”

He shook his head. “Sac’be’s closed to anyone not Eldarion,” he whispered back, “and only open to those who know how to get in. Now, follow me.”

We walked down the stone passageway, and I tried to be as quiet as I could, as did Jack, though our footsteps still echoed off the smooth walls. Even Scratch seemed to sense this, for he stopped chittering and clung to Jack as we continued on.

After a time we reached another opening and Jack handed me the lantern before drawing his pistol, motioning for me to remain where I was as he crept along the wall until he reached the entrance. He peered inside while Scratch did the same. Then he gestured for me to join him, and as I reached the opening, he pointed at the stone stairs leading up.

From the darkness above us I could hear the faint echoes of Captain Ivy’s voice calling out what sounded like orders, though her words were so indistinct that I could not understand what she said.

What I did not hear were footsteps coming down the stairs and neither did Jack, for he smiled and holstered his revolver once more before taking the lantern back from me.

Scratch leaped from his shoulder onto the bars. I reached for the little animal but he evaded me, squeezing between them and landing with a soft thud on the stone floor. We dared not breathe a word, Jack and I both motioning at Scratch to come back to us. The little creature put his finger to his lips as if telling us to be quiet.

Then Scratch turned and scampered up the stairs. Jack cursed in silence as he turned back toward the tunnel and led us on, moving at a faster pace despite our echoing footsteps.

After a longer time we reached another entrance, this one on the right hand side, and Jack made a beeline for the stone stairs. He began to climb and I hurried after him.

We reached a landing with another door of rusty iron bars. As he pushed it open and we walked out onto a paved surface, a familiar gruff voice called out from the darkness, “Who’s there?”

“Drog,” I called out, “it is me, Jonathan.”

Blue webbing flared between a slender pair of hands, illuminating a small courtyard much like the one we had been in. Kinubal let the webbing go and it rolled itself into a ball of light hovering overhead as my three friends dropped the machetes they had been holding and rushed over to greet us, Je’kyll walking at a more dignified pace.

I laughed and hugged each of them in turn as we pounded the other on the back, which is the Orku way of greeting friends. Even Je’kyll, who seemed bemused as he watched a human performing an Orku custom, embraced me, though gentler than my friends had done. Kinubal walked past us and peered down the stairs. “Where’s Cornflower? She was supposed to come with you.”

Jack grimaced. “She didn’t make it out alive. She fought like a Kilkenny cat, but I couldn’t get a shot at the durn French captain as his men kept rushing me, and he shot her as she saved Chan’s life-”

Kinubal whirled on me before Jack could finish. “This is your fault,” she wailed in a voice brittle with anger and grief. “I don’t care what my grandmother wanted: we should’ve just given you to the white witch and told her to sail away back to Europe.”

This time I kept a tight rein on my emotions. “Professor Bella would have taken me and gone on to Zotz-Na anyway, because killing the Camazotz is her main goal. Capturing me was just icing on the cake.” I told them everything that Professor Bella had said up in the hotel room, including Dame Kerry and Rune’s betrayal, and her experiment to see if Miss Ravenwood could be changed into a monster.

When I finished, Je’kyll placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look before turning towards Kinubal. “If Bella had taken him, not only would the Yucatan have the French army to contend with in a year or so, but also creatures created using Jonathan’s blood.”

Kinubal wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “How can you know that?”

“Because Dame Kerry became quite friendly after I helped quell her seasickness and we spoke a good bit.” His expression became bitter. “I should have been suspicious, as the Orku are supposed to be, yet it never once crossed my mind that she could be working for the other side.”

“All of us missed it,” Goro said, his normally jovial face serious. “I was concerned about her obsessing over Jon like she did, not that she was gonna sell us out.”

I looked at him. “You noticed it as well?”

“Boss,” Drog said, “when she wasn’t puking her insides into a bucket, she was trying to find out everything she could about you.”

“We told your grandfather,” Baroda rumbled, “and he told us to let it lay, that he’d deal with it once we reached New York.”

A twinge of unease touched me as Je’kyll said, “I believe I can safely say that all of us missed the clues, though I daresay I see them now. Regardless,” his voice becoming matter-of-fact, “one evening I asked her if she thought Professor Bella might be part of the French invasion of Mexico supposedly being planned as we speak, and she said she thought it likely.

“Then she added, ‘Imagine if she actually convinced Jonathan that her cause was the good one and the rest of the world was evil. France would have soldiers riding Direwolves into battle instead of horses, and Minotaur's with Gatling guns fighting alongside the Foreign Legion. They’d be so powerful, even the Eldarion-Maya wouldn’t be able to stand against them’.”

Kinubal’s expression changed into one of horror and I said, “Nothing Professor Bella could say or do will convince me that her cause is just. Speaking of which…” I took a deep breath as I looked her in the eye. “Miss Kinubal, I wish to formally apologize for the death of Miss Cornflower, which might have been prevented had I acted in time.”

Several people began to speak but stopped as I raised my hand. “Please, let me finish. I had a chance to take the shot, froze, and only acted after Captain Lafitte had killed her and was taking aim at Jack. My lack of action is inexcusable and I accept any and all blame. Nor do I have the right to ask for your forgiveness.” For a long moment she stared at me with her fists clenched.

Then Kinubal whirled around and shouted down the stairs, “Damn you! You knew this would happen, you knew Ran-Li had foreseen your death.” Her voice became a shriek. “Did you ever think about what it would do to me?” Alarmed, I moved behind her, wanting to touch her, yet unsure if I should.

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She glanced back. “Cornflower never wanted to grow old,” she said in a quiet voice filled with sorrow, her tears like sparkling gems in the blue light. “She once told me a flower should be plucked early, while it’s still beautiful, rather than left to wither on the vine.”

“Then she got her wish,” I replied in a voice equally quiet. “When the men laid her out with her weapons in each hand, she reminded me of a Viking war maiden.”

Kinubal gave a laugh that was almost a sob. “A Viking war maiden. She’d like that.” I tentatively stretched out my hand; she unclenched one fist and gripped my fingers hard, staring at me with dark eyes filled with pain. “Did you kill this Captain Lafitte?” I nodded and her fingernails dug into my skin, making me wince. “Are you sure?”

The image of bone and blood in a shattered face came back to me until I pushed it away. “Positive. Nothing short of necromancy will ever bring him back.”

Her grip eased, though she did not let go. “Was this the first human you’ve ever killed?” I nodded again. “Was it harder to do than killing Kobols?”

All at once I could not meet her eyes and looked away. “Much harder. Perhaps… no, it truly was the hardest thing I have ever done.” I looked beyond her at the steps leading down into darkness. “I asked my grandfather the same question once. He told me the first one was the hardest and after that it seemed to get easier, but the ghosts never go away.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jack muttered.

Kinubal unclenched her other fist to grip my free hand. Then she put her head against my chest and began to bawl, holding tight to my fingers so I could not put my arms around her as I wished. Looking at Jack for guidance, he motioned for me to stay put, so I held onto her hands and let the storm inside her rage until it was spent.

When it had, she let go of my hands and I released her, Kinubal stepping back as she wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Alright, Jack, what now?”

Before he could answer, I jumped in. “Rescue my grandfather and the others as well.”

“Reckon that’s so,” Jack said as his eyes met mine, “and I’ve got a couple of the Maya collecting those French rifles and all the ammunition the dead men had with them. First thing, though, is we gotta find a place you can hole up where Bella can’t find you.”

“What? Do you think I am going to just hide in some little village somewhere while the rest of you go after them?”

“That’s exactly what I expect. I didn’t just pull you out of the cook pot only to have you jump onto Bella’s plate.”

“Jack, I truly appreciate what you and Cornflower did for me, but I have to go with you. Dame Kerry talked about life as if it was a huge game of War Chess, with most people only pieces on the board that a few people moved. Professor Bella is one of those few people, and if I do not make sure she is stopped before she reaches Zotz-Na, she will be the one moving me across the board for the rest of my life.”

“She’s going to be stopped,” Kinubal replied. “My clan leader, Cahal, is organizing a war party of Maya humans to go after her. He plans to ambush them in the dark and slaughter-”

Her eyes went wide as Jack’s narrowed. “He’s not gonna bother to figure out who’s who when they attack, is he?”

“If we reach him before he leaves-”

“We have to reach the Sac’be before he does,” I said before she could finish. “Or barring that, get him to let us come with him.”

“Old Hoss,” Jack said with a note of exasperation, “how in tarnation are you going to take on the entire expedition by yourself?”

“Not by himself,” Drog said.

“Exactly. The four of us, armed with repeating rifles, taking the most likely road to Zotz-Na-”

“Which you won’t find unless I’m with you,” Kinubal said, her arms crossed over her small chest.

I made a respectful gesture with my hand. “The five of us.” I began to pace as my mind picked up speed. “Hunting the expedition will be just like hunting a tribe of Kobols. We catch up to them, Drog and I find a good firing position, and we take out the leader, who in this case is Professor Bella.”

“Leaving a bunch of bad hombres shooting back at you,” Jack said.

“Meaning we will have to first find a concealed position, then wait for them to stop shooting.”

Jack gave me a puzzled look. “You ain’t gonna shoot back?”

I shook my head as I stopped pacing. “I call out to them in French, see if they are willing to negotiate. Think about it: they are a long way from home, in the dark, and their leader just died.”

“If you make the shot.”

I exhaled sharply. “A big if. Miss the shot and all of us will be in a worse position than before.”

Goro put his hand on my shoulder. “You used to shoot Kobols in the wild with that old Baker flintlock, needing no more light than their cooking fire.” He shook me. “Jon,” he said in a gentle voice, “stop being so hard on yourself.” He grinned. “That’s what you’ve got us for.”

I gave him a light punch on the shoulder as I smiled back, my friends and even Je’kyll chuckling. Kinubal remained serious. “Cahal isn’t going to be pleasant if he catches up to us traveling the Sac’be. The only humans he tolerates are the Maya, and he hates Europeans for what they did to his mother, back when the Spanish invaded our lands. He’s going to insist we get off the Sac’be and let his war party handle Bella.”

Baroda asked, “What will they be armed with? Just machetes?”

“Probably. Cahal knows the underground road like he knows his own home, and he’ll track the expedition as it travels, then wait for everyone to be asleep before they begin their ambush.”

All at once, I realized the serious flaw in my plan. “Bella has an automaton.”

Kinubal looked at me. “I don’t even know what that is, or why it makes a difference?”

“They are machines, powered by Terramagica energy and inhabited by the spirits existing inside Ka’thorn crystals, which gives automatons limited intelligence.”

“They can’t think like a person,” Goro said. “But you tell them what to do and they’ll see it gets done until you tell them to stop. That’s without ever sleeping, of course.”

“My human father served with Jon’s grandfather,” Baroda said, “and he told me the army of the East India Trading Company used a few of them as sentinels. The Indian rebels they fought against tried the same tactics your clan leader plans to use, but the automaton always spotted them and gave a warning.”

Baroda folded his large arms over his barrel-like chest. “The rebels didn’t have nearly the firepower the British had and got their arses handed to them.” Drog elbowed him in the ribs while pointing at Kinubal, and Baroda’s ears reddened. “Oops, sorry.”

Kinubal gave him a sardonic smile. “My mother’s curses were far more colorful than that.” She turned and looked at Jack. “You’re being quiet. What do you think?”

“That the Old Hoss stands a better chance than Cahal does at getting the three fellas out of there alive, though I’ve still got a notion that Bella could figure out someone’s tailing her and dry gulch us instead of the other way around.” His thoughtful expression turned skeptical. “I’ve also got a notion that all Cahal’s got to do is order you to make tracks off the Sac’be and you’ll have to do it, which means the rest of us will have to leave with you or be trapped there.”

“Not if I pledge myself to Jonathan the same way Naamah did to Shabaka. The laws of my people state that an honor pledge take precedence over everything else until the terms of that pledge are met.” Kinubal turned and looked at me. “Is this acceptable?”

“I… yes, of course it is.” I hesitated. “This might put you in a great deal of danger, though.”

She folded her arms across her thin chest. “Do you think the British cared whether or not my mother put herself in danger?”

“No, but I do.”

She blinked, taken aback perhaps, before a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I wish my mother could hear you say that. If you want to do this, hold out your arm.” I did, and she grasped my forearm just below the elbow, so they were touching. “On my honor, I pledge to stand beside you until your people and my grandmother are safe. To fight alongside you until Bella’s dead and her men defeated. To guard, guide, and give whatever aid needed by you and yours. This I swear.”

Her grip was firm though her skin was soft as velvet. “The kings of ancient Nubia had an oath they once swore to their vassals.” I cleared my throat. “The lion defends his pride with his strength, with his courage, and with his cunning. You belong to my pride until you decide to leave it. This, I swear.” We gripped each others forearm for a long moment as I stared into her dark, liquid eyes.

I let go in surprise as the scent of sweet cigar smoke filled my nostrils. “Do you smell that?”

Kinubal’s face took on an expression of fear. She whispered, “What we swore, we have to keep.”

Drog sniffed the air as he grunted. “I could really go for my pipe right now.” The other half-Orku agreed as he went on. “Alright, boss, now that we’ve agreed to do this, we need provisions and weapons. Mind if I take over?” I made a ‘go ahead’ gesture and he rubbed his hands together. “Jack, we need those rifles first, then food, rope…”

When you take the life of another, face to face, and watch the light leave their eyes forever, you have entered a new country you can never return from. You are changed in the sight of angels and mortals alike and can never go back to who you once were.

To some, the change brings guilt, to others sorrow, and to still others fear, or relief at remaining alive, or many other emotions all tied up together. And to a few others, exaltation in the change. Those are the dangerous ones, regarded as heroes or monsters, the ones who kill without remorse. The ones who never feel so alive as they do when they see the light leave the eyes of another.

When the change is done, especially after the first becomes the tenth and you begin to lose count, in the quiet watches of the night the ghosts shall pay you court. Some hide them away, bury them deep in unquiet graves, while others share their ghosts as stories. Do the monsters fear their ghosts at all?

Do our ghosts follow us when we become ghosts ourselves?