Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

M aya lunged for Nash. "Stop!" she shouted.

I caught her by the shoulders. "No." When Maya turned to me in fury, I eased my grip into a soothing caress. "Let Nash finish. Please."

Maya jerked from me, but she subsided.

I too hated seeing Carl locked in pain, his face squeezed so tightly it vanished in a sea of wrinkles. His moans became faint, sound now barely escaping him.

What I found in his aura explained his agony. Red streaks swirled through the shadowy gray, darting, stabbing, swooping. The streaks and shadows encased him in a mesh net, similar to the one that had surrounded the hotel. I sensed the granite-hard magic of the Phantomwalkers entwining to keep out not only Earth magic but Beneath as well.

The Phantomwalkers were adapting.

They didn't know what to make of Nash, though. He was unique.

The gaping dark nothing that was Nash's null magic seeped into Carl. Carl desperately tried to break his grip, but Nash tightened his hold, just enough to prevent Carl from moving.

My rage at the Phantomwalkers rose. Carl was an innocent they were using in their need to capture the egg and destroy dragons. I'd been feeling a little sorry for the Phantomwalkers for being discarded on the heap of failed god experiments. They'd been rejected, and were only trying to survive, after all.

My pity evaporated as Carl struggled. I understood why the Phantomwalkers hated and feared Mick and other dragons, who had the life they'd been deprived of. I could even understand their need to get their claws on Cesnia's kid, who would grow up to be another dragon to oppose them. Or perhaps they meant to raise him and brainwash him into helping them erase all other dragons. Not that I was going to let them do either one.

But using Carl, a harmless human, simply to slow me down, seriously pissed me off. They could have left Carl alone. So what if he'd blundered into their secret places in the desert? They could have done a baffling spell to make him go a different direction.

Instead, they'd deliberately messed with him in order to thwart me, and that, I wouldn't put up with. They made the evil goddess deep in my psyche want to come out and play.

I watched the void of Nash's negative field pull on the black and red mesh, Carl's body writhing as he fought. Carl grabbed Nash's arm with his other hand, trying to pry Nash loose.

A hand pressed down on both of theirs. I recognized Gina's work-worn fingers holding Nash and Carl together.

Gina had a small amount of shaman power, but nothing that could destroy entities such as the Phantomwalkers. Hers was the quiet magic of rock and water, sky and breeze, the warmth of the sun on the soil.

I saw the spell in Carl eagerly reach to ensnare her.

"No, Gina, let go," I said in alarm. "It's too dangerous."

Gina regarded me calmly. "The sheriff needs to finish."

Nash, who'd frowned at their collective hands, said nothing. He wasn't actively working against the spell trapping Carl's aura, because Nash didn't control what was inside him. The null magic acted whether he willed it or not.

The threads of red and black began to slowly, but inexorably, flow from Carl into Nash. As Gina's pressure kept their hands together, the spell streamed faster and faster out of Carl to bury itself into Nash's body.

Carl shuddered. He let out a sharp wail when the final ball of darkness wrenched itself out of him and dove into Nash.

Nash immediately released Carl, and I yanked both Gina and Carl away from him. Nash pressed his balled fists into his abdomen, the cords on his neck standing out as he struggled.

In agitation, Maya moved toward him, but I stopped her with a raised hand. No one could help him at this point.

The hot threads wound inside Nash, trying to gather themselves, while Nash silently fought. The compulsion spell struggled mightily to continue its existence, but Nash's null field closed around the mesh like a moray eel snapping up its prey.

The spell shuddered once and then abruptly winked out.

Nash slowly released his breath and unclenched his fists. When he opened his eyes, he found the rest of us regarding him in consternation—Maya, Gina, Carl, Pamela, Cassandra who'd come back in to help, Dad, who'd stayed at the table guarding the egg, and me.

"Did we get it?" Nash asked.

"Yes," I said around a breath of relief. "You did."

"Shew." Carl put his hand to his heart, but it was a dramatic gesture only, not an indication he was ill. "What the hell was that?"

"Compulsion spell," I said.

"Comp— what?" Carl peered at me in disbelief. "I said you were crazy, even if you're cute. What are you talking about? I thought I was having a stroke."

Maya crouched next to his chair. "It's part of the weird shit Janet gets mixed up in, dragging the rest of us along with her."

"Not on purpose," I said quickly. "You all right, Nash?"

Nash regarded me with his usual steadiness. "I need some coffee, but yes." His left cheek and forehead were abraded from our earlier adventure, and slow burning anger filled his eyes, but otherwise, he looked normal.

"I will bring coffee," Gina announced. She disappeared into the kitchen without another word.

I pulled a chair next to Carl, opposite where Maya knelt. The two of us crowded him, but he didn't look unhappy about it. "Where did you go riding on Mick's bike?" I asked him.

"Toward Monument Valley," Carl answered right away. "Turned off on some back roads, where there's nothing for miles. Great day for a ride. Found some awesome rock formations you'd never know were there from the main highway. I used to hike out in that area when I was younger, but I'd forgotten. Lots of memories in those little creeks through the sandstone."

Waves in the rock, the mirror had said. Too many shadows.

"I know where Mick is," I said, and hauled myself to my feet.

I banged on the door of the room Cassandra had given Gabrielle and Colby. I supposed they were officially a couple now, or Cassandra would have found them separate ones.

"Good morning," Gabrielle sang as she opened the door. She was dressed in jeans and a black top, the shower running in the bathroom behind her. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"

I recognized the signs of a woman falling in love with a dragon.

"Come help me rescue Mick?" I asked her. "I figured out where they're holding him. At least, I hope I figured it out. We need to hurry, in case they move him."

"Got it. Colby, sweetie, we're going," she shouted to the bathroom.

"What?" I heard Colby's rumble through the door. "What did you say?"

They were a couple, all right.

I left them and hurriedly descended the stairs. Carl, Nash, and Maya were in the lobby—Carl rubbed his head and grumbled about a slight headache.

"Carl, you're riding with me," I said. "Nash, we'll need you. "

"No transportation," Nash said curtly. "Your demonic friends saw to that."

"Maya, will you let him borrow?—"

"No." Maya cut me off. "If he goes in my truck, I'm driving him."

"It's too dangerous," Nash snapped at her. "These things are huge and deadly. Stay here and take care of my grandfather. Who is also not going." He scowled at Carl, who scowled right back.

"I'm the only one who knows where to go," Carl told him.

"You can draw us a map," Nash countered.

"Nope. I'm gonna?—"

Carl's rebuttal was interrupted by a high-pitched scream in the saloon, one only the magical in the room could hear. The mirror was keening, as though the compulsion spell was being ripped from it too.

At the same time, I heard a shout.

"Janet!"

It was Gina. I abandoned the argument and sprinted to her, my heart banging with fear.

The Horribles had come down to breakfast. Instead of sitting and inhaling Elena's pastries while conducting a shouting and squealing conversation, they'd converged on Dad and Gina.

Their eyes were glassy, their movements jerky and zombie-like. Gina clutched the bowling bag to her chest, searching for an opening to run. Dad stood, grim-faced, in front of her, ready to defend his beloved wife from the determined horde.

I saw the grimy shadow of another compulsion spell in their auras, which were usually bright and innocent. The Horribles were egregiously annoying but not evil.

Whether the spell came from the vestiges of what Nash had pulled from Carl, or through the mirror, or in an encounter between the Horribles and more Phantomwalkers, I couldn't say.

I only knew that if they grabbed the egg, I'd have to stop them before they destroyed it. Murdering humans wasn't my thing, but it might be the only way.

Pamela, who'd leapt to her feet, appeared ready to start the slaying. Changers had a simple outlook on life. Cassandra, behind me, was chanting a counter-spell, but it would be a while before she finished. Same with anything Elena and Grandmother, who'd emerged from the kitchen, could do.

Like Pamela, I also preferred to keep things simple. I dove between Allie and her sisters, lunged past my father, who quickly stepped out of my way, and grabbed the bowling bag from Gina.

The Horribles turned and converged on me. In a few swift twists, I slid free of them and sprinted for the lobby. The family ignored Gina and Dad and ran after me.

"Carl, let's go!" I yelled.

Carl, quick on the uptake, instantly hotfooted it behind me. "I knew those people were zombies."

I didn't have time to explain. Nash turned to confront the mob, but Maya pulled him firmly toward the front door. I was barely aware of Cassandra and Elena following the Horribles, both murmuring countering magic.

I led Carl at a run through the door to my suite, slamming and locking it behind us. The Horribles hit the door so hard the wood creaked .

"This is creepy," Carl said as he followed me down the narrow hall and outside through the rear exit. "I love it."

I hurried to my motorcycle, which I'd left parked in the shadow of the hotel, and thrust the bowling bag into the saddlebag. The bag jiggled, and I opened the zipper enough to give the egg inside a reassuring pat.

The egg seemed warmer than it had before, or maybe that was my imagination. I swore I felt a tingle through my fingers and hoped it wasn't about to hatch, not right now.

I handed Carl the helmet Nash had bought in Flagstaff and swung on the bike. Carl hopped up behind me with the agility of long practice.

"They're coming," Carl announced.

The Horribles must have broken into my suite because they were streaming out the back door Carl and I had used. The compulsion spell hadn't let them figure out it would be easier to go through the lobby and around the building. Spells like that made a person single-minded—they'd die trying to get through one door when there was an open window beside it.

Oh well, more repairs.

I started up the motorcycle and peeled off, my back wheel sending a load of dust and gravel over the Horribles. They yelled their rage, continuing to lurch after me as I skimmed around the hotel to the front parking lot.

Maya had her pickup waiting where my property joined Barry's. As soon as Carl and I whizzed past, she slid into place behind me, and we bumped from the dirt lot onto the smooth highway.

The Horribles ran after us, but they could only move as fast as human beings were able, and none of them were in very good shape. They barely made it as far as the paved road before they halted, fists waving.

I hoped the compulsion spell wore off as soon as their quarry—me and the egg—were out of reach. I also hoped they didn't remember anything about it. I couldn't afford to comp their entire stay because they were accidentally ensorcelled.

"Keep an eye on them," I yelled at my side mirror. "Help Cassandra de-spell them if she needs assistance."

"Aw, you're no fun, honey. I like them better this way."

"Do it."

The mirror heaved a grating sigh. "The Phantomwalkers got to me too. Sorry, babe. Spell broke out of me when it jumped to our favorite family."

"It's all right. Do you remember where you went now?"

"Yep," the mirror said brightly. "How about you let me drive?"

"That's okay. I want us to get there alive."

I raced along the empty highway northward toward the I-40, the freeway on which I'd tiredly ridden home earlier this morning. I had much more energy now, though I'd not slept at all. My determination to find Mick fueled me.

At Winslow, I headed west, putting my head down and speeding as fast as I dared. I swerved around clumps of eighteen-wheelers and past cars apparently determined to make Los Angeles in record time. Behind me, Carl yelled his approval.

Maya kept up. Glances into the rearview showed her truck behind me, Nash stiffly in the passenger seat. Not long after we passed the road to Meteor Crater, another motorcycle zoomed next to mine. Colby, his hair braided to keep out of the way, gave me a thumbs-up. Clutching him around the waist and grinning at me, was Gabrielle.

Everyone was excited about this situation but me, and probably Nash. My stomach was cramped, my fears high. I was taking a big gamble on Mick being where I thought he was, and I had no idea what I was going to do when I found him.

One thing I would not do was give the Phantomwalkers the egg. Nor would I sacrifice Mick for Cesnia's kid. I was going to rescue them both.

I just hadn't figured out how yet.

Traffic thickened as we skimmed into Flagstaff. The exit that took me to the north-bound road rose over train tracks where a long-haul freight train clanked into town beneath us, its horn mournful.

I swung onto the 89, heading back into Navajo country and open desert. We descended out of the mountains to dry, dry land, the soil and rocks changing from black to a distinctive reddish pink.

Traffic was sparser here, but plenty of RVs and cars made for the North Rim, Page, Horseshoe Bend, and Lake Powell. My destination was in a slightly different direction, but for now, we followed the vacationers.

Colby stayed with me, our pair of motorcycles often side by side, with Maya tailing us. I kept an eye out for any sign of the Phantomwalkers, but I saw nothing. Either they didn't like to be out in the daylight, or they were waiting to ambush us. I was pretty sure my second hunch was right, now that they knew we were coming.

We lost traffic when the road split to the North Rim, but plenty of cars still headed to Page, the only town of any size for miles around .

A bit beyond this turnoff, I halted on the side of the road. Sand lapped from the desert beyond onto the blacktop, but scrub and grasses dotted the land, attesting to winter rainfall.

Colby drew up next to me, and Maya scooted her truck as far onto the road's shoulder as she could.

I removed my helmet, stretched my stiff legs, and turned to Carl. "Where?"

Carl scanned the area. "Should be a little bitty road up here somewhere. Takes off that way." He pointed to the east, where hills rose and fell. Flashes of green showed where creeks flowed in between dust and scrub.

"Are you sure you remember where it is?"

"Of course I do. I'm not senile." Carl softened his tone. "My wife and I used to ride all over this place when we were younger. There was only so much to do in Flag on a weekend in those days." He chuckled. "Not much now, either."

"Let me know when we get there," I said.

"Roger that, young lady."

"Want me to fly around?" Colby raised his voice over the rumble of his bike. "Scout the area?"

"Please keep your dragon ass on the ground," I said firmly. "I don't want to have to rescue two of you."

"His dragon ass is staying right here," Gabrielle assured me. She leaned into Colby's back, and I saw a spark of magic crackle in her fingers. Alarming, but I knew she'd keep Colby safe.

"Watch for my turn," I said.

Colby gave me a thumbs-up. Maya nodded through her open window, though I wasn't sure how much she or Nash had heard .

I settled my helmet, and we were off again. This should be a wonderful drive, with smooth red outcrops on one side of the highway and glimpses of the Colorado River and the beginnings of the Grand Canyon on the other. The deceptively flat plains occasionally dropped into deep crevices, bridges sailing over them.

Carl tapped me before we'd gone more than five miles. He pointed off to our right, at a dirt road that meandered into the desert.

I signaled to my friends and swung my motorcycle onto the track. Colby came behind me, and Maya maneuvered her truck to follow. I worried that we'd encounter washes or rocky rises that would hinder her, but Maya drove confidently. Her pickup was good for off-roading, I knew, as she sometimes had to drive out to remote ranches to do electrical repairs.

My bike abruptly began to shudder. I stared in alarm at my dials, then realized it wasn't the motorcycle itself. The jerks came from the egg jumping in the saddlebag. It sensed something that excited it, but I couldn't know if that something was Mick, or it was simply ready to have a go at the Phantomwalkers.

Following Carl's directions, I skimmed down into a valley, the road taking us behind the rocky hills that lined the highway. I was glad we could be somewhat hidden, because any tribal cop or patroller on the highway might otherwise spot us taking off across the open ground. We weren't doing anything strictly illegal, but we'd attract attention and possibly followers.

I breathed easier when we were well beyond the hills and descending once more. I had a feeling I knew where Carl was taking me .

Waves in the rock, the mirror had said.

I discovered I'd been right when Carl pointed again. I left the road, which had shrunk to a mere dirt lane, and drove down a tiny track. Red sandstone walls rose on either side of us, stretching into a long box canyon.

I drove carefully over ruts and tree roots, the motorcycle wobbling. At the very end of the canyon, a sandstone slab towered about a hundred feet above us, closing off the way.

Dark hollows dotted the base of the cliff, and more appeared in the walls around us. Water that trickled through these rocks over the millennia had carved out narrow, curving passageways. Openings in the sandstone ceilings admitted fingers of sunlight that turned the walls inside into bands of exquisite colors.

I halted the bike, turning off the engine. Colby shut down beside me. Maya hadn't been able to get her truck around the last narrow bend, but she and Nash walked toward us from there.

Silence filled the space, wind sighing from the top of the rock walls.

I studied the entrance to a slot canyon which I sensed held more than a pretty hiking trail. Too many shadows, the mirror had also said.

I'd always known there was something eerie and evil about this particular canyon, though I'd not thought about it much after I'd left home. Perhaps the Phantomwalkers had holed up here for centuries, perhaps it was as sacred to them as the mountains were to the Diné, or volcanoes were to dragons. Maybe it was their home base, a place well hidden from humans. It might simply be a gateway, like Cesnia's wall had been to her true lair .

Regardless, I felt them in there, watching, waiting in rising anticipation.

From beside me, the mirror hissed. "They're here ."