Charity shrugged her shoulders. Ultimately, all she cared about was getting her weapons and her friends back. The other woman’s nudity was hardly her primary concern. “We thought this island was going to be dangerous.”
“It is. Most people who do what you did — approach the island seeking to use its power — end up in the belly of a dinosaur. Or worse. Often, we just watch them, staying out of sight until they’re dead or gone. But you… We recognized your garb.”
“Can’t say I appreciate your methods of introduction but I guess I understand your reasoning. You probably would have been okay if you’d just announced yourselves and stepped out of the jungle, though. We’re not that bloodthirsty.”
“From what I understand, not all Gravediggers are as quick to give strangers the benefit of the doubt.” Minerva gestured towards the door. “Come with me and we’ll awaken your friends. We don’t have much time.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Voice has spoken to one of the village elders, warning them that your enemies are en route. We will attempt to slow them down so that you may do what you came here for.” She lowered her voice and asked, “Is it really that terrible out there? We drift in and out of this reality so we only get bits and pieces of what’s going on in the rest of the world.”
“Whatever you’ve heard, it’s not nearly terrible enough.”
“Then I pray that you’ll be successful.”
Darhoth, now existing as a living shadow-wraith, hovered over the deck of the Nazi U-Boat as it approached Hy-Brasil. She was accompanied by both German soldiers and Deep Ones, all of whom regarded each other with suspicion and disdain.
Darhoth had been unable to locate Mr. Death and with Vulthar dead, she would have to save her masters’ plans on her own, with only this cannon fodder to help.
She waved a wispy hand through the air and she felt a pang of regret for the loss of her human shell. She’d gotten used to the sensual pleasures of the flesh and quite missed them. Perhaps when all was said and done, she’d find some ripe young female and take her body….
Something akin to a mystical “scent” reached her senses, drawing a close to her reverie. They were here — all three of her enemies. Strangely, she sensed something more as well, the kind of magic that she would have associated with The Catalyst. He was dead, however, killed by Vulthar. Surely a new Catalyst could not have been chosen so quickly?
Turning to her troops, she commanded them to make haste. Even with her stern order, it still took time to navigate the rocky waters. By the time they had made landfall, it was mid-afternoon and Darhoth was growing increasingly concerned that she might fail to reach them in time to stop their plan.
She had no sooner sniffed out her prey’s general direction — up into the depths of the jungle — than a barrage of arrows and rocks began to rain down upon the villains. Darhoth hissed, knowing that this could slow her down even more. These were not her enemies, their scent was too far away for that, and she had no time to spare.
“Deal with them,” she said to a nearby soldier. The man nodded briskly and began shouting orders to his men. The Deep Ones operated under their own command, lumbering into the jungles with great haste and a dark hunger.
While this was going on, Darhoth allowed her form to dissipate into mist. She floated nearly unseen into the trees, bypassing the natives. She would have liked to have remained there for a bit and make them suffer but time was of the essence.
I’m coming for you, she silently swore. And this will all end today.
CHAPTER XVI
All My Yesterdays
“This is weird, even for me.” The Peregrine looked around at the natives, who sat and stood in a circle around the three heroes. Max held Catalyst’s glove in his hand, trying to ignore the mystic energy that swirled around it. “All of these people serve The Voice?”
Gravedigger nodded. “That’s what they tell me.”
Max looked at her, his eyes narrowed behind his bird-like mask. “Do you think The Voice is God?”
“The one from the Bible? I don’t know. The Old Testament version, maybe. I was never very religious growing up but after seeing things like Darhoth and being brought back from the dead, I’ve revised my feelings about the supernatural.” Gravedigger glanced over at Minerva, who was approaching with a grim look on her face. “But if you’re asking me if I think The Voice created the world in seven days, no. Not really. I think The Voice is ancient, powerful and not very much like us. But I don’t think it created humanity.”
“I’m just glad we had time to do a bit of planning and preparation,” Lazarus said.
“I hope it’s enough.” Gravedigger took a deep breath. “If we fail…”
“We won’t,” Peregrine replied. “All three of us have done the impossible again and again. The biggest mistake Darhoth and her ilk made was in not killing us when they had the chance. The Mother of Pus should have slain Lazarus that day it all went to hell. They should have dealt with me when I was captured. Separately, we’re all capable of doing damage to them but together…”
“We’re something special,” Gravedigger finished for him. “I’d agree with that. I don’t always agree with the methods you two use or the ideals you espouse but I want you both to know that the one good thing to come out of all this is the amount of respect I’ve gained for you. If we win and we remember all of this, I’m going to be there for you, whenever and wherever you need me.”
Peregrine held out a hand and Lazarus placed his atop it. Gravedigger completed the symbolic act.
“I think the same goes for us, too.” The Peregrine smiled. “Too bad I live way down in Atlanta. We could make this team a permanent gig.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Lazarus said and Gravedigger laughed. It felt like the first time in a very long time that she’d laughed in anything other than gallows’ humor.
Minerva interrupted their conversation, having approached as they clasped hands. She looked apologetic but determined. “Forgive me, but your enemies have arrived. Tribesmen are trying to delay them but I don’t know how long you have.”
Lazarus said, “You told us to wait for the right moment to use the glove’s magic. If we do it now, will it work?”
The dark-skinned woman raised the delicate fingers of her right hand and traced them through the air. To Lazarus’ amazement, he saw ripples follow in her hand’s wake, as if she were disturbing the surface of water. “The walls have grown very thin. You should be able to manipulate the time stream, perhaps not as much as you’d like but we don’t have time to wait.”
The Peregrine slipped the gauntlet into his hand and reached out to clasp Gravedigger’s. She, in turn, took hold of Lazarus’.
As soon as all three of them were in contact, something seemed to change in the atmosphere of the island. The ripples that they had seen around Minerva’s hand were now large waves that reminded Max of the way heat would ripple above the asphalt on a hot summer day. A rift appeared before them, showing confusing scenes that flickered quickly, moving from one scenario to the next. One by one, they all realized that they were seeing elements of each other’s past: Charity’s rough-and-tumble life on the streets, the night she died and was reborn, the first tentative steps in her romance with Mitchell; Max’s witnessing of his father’s murder and the slowing awareness that he was changed by the event, followed by his first meeting with Evelyn; Lazarus saw his graduation and subsequent recruitment into The Illuminati, the betrayal that led to the end of his life as Richard Winthrop and his rebirth as Lazarus Gray, finally seeing himself standing alongside the rest of Assistance Unlimited.