Chameleon (20 page)

“Cousin,” she said, meeting Sir Walter’s eyes. “How long it has been.”

Sir Walter did not return her greeting.

Helga carried no weapon that I could see, but she didn’t need to; she had henchmen for that.

“What a lovely Yuletide gift you have brought to me.” Helga looked greedily at Will and myself.

Then she turned to address Sir Walter. “Their lives must mean a great deal to you that you remain here in plain view.” She nodded curtly to the man holding Will. Swiftly, he fired a single shot at Sir Walter.

It felt to me as if the floor pitched sideways; my legs gave way. But Sir Walter had time to smile before rippling to safety. Just as quickly, he reappeared, the danger having been averted. Ivanovich jerked me upright and I snapped alert, my arm throbbing with pain.

“It was worth the attempt,” said Helga, sighing.

“This one, now…” She eyed Will while addressing me. “A lover perhaps? Or a brother?” Her eyes grew wide at the tantalizing prospect.

“He’s no one,” I said, desperate to protect him.

“Hmm … but if I fire upon him, will he disappear or will he bleed?”

“Don’t shoot him!” I called out. “I’m the one you want. Let him go.”

She paused, considering her next move.

Ivanovich’s grip upon my arm loosened and I hear him sigh lightly, as if in relief from something painful.

“Ivanovich,” called Helga. “Is this the boy who stole into my laboratory?”

She knew!
All our caution had been for nothing. Just like our theft of the worthless journal. Worse than nothing. Somehow, we’d shown our identities. Despair welled up inside me.

I flicked my eyes to look at Ivanovich’s cold eyes. But their fire had gone out. Slowly, Helga’s thug shook his head “
No
.”

“You are certain?” Helga demanded.

Beside me, the creature she had tormented for untold years nodded a “yes.”

And then I knew! I knew with complete certainty that it was no longer Ivanovich but Deuxième who held me.

Emboldened, I called to Helga. “Let the boy go. His blood holds no secrets,” I said, glancing to Deuxieme. “Let the boy go and I’ll serve you.”

Her gaze, fierce and feral, fell upon me. “Oh, you will serve me,” she said, her voice a deadly whisper. “Have no doubt upon that score.” She turned to Will’s captor.

“He dies,” she said, indicating Will.

At the same moment the bullet left the chamber, Will vanished to safety and did not reappear.

Helga, caught by surprise, swore softly.

The hairs along my neck raised; her calm felt more deadly than her rage.

Beside me, Deuxième whispered, “Run! Take the stairs!”

I didn’t need any encouragement, but he must have feared otherwise. He threw me towards the stairs, and my arms and legs wind–milled as I scrambled to cross the cavern without falling. From one corner of my vision, I saw Sir Walter ripple invisible and heard his voice, deep and resonant, within my mind. “
Go
,” he said. “
Leave Helga and her creatures to me
.” I ran onwards.

Then I felt an icy cold wash through me. “Will?” His name escaped my lips as I clambered to the ancient stairs. It had to be Will! Helga was still shouting. Looking over my shoulder to be sure, I confirmed that Deuxième remained solid. But just before the cavern closed from view, I saw an awful sight. Helga raised a small pistol and aimed it at Deuxième.

He crumpled and at the same moment, Sir Walter rippled solid. I hesitated on the stairs. Sir Walter, evading Helga, grabbed the shorter man and rippled away with him. I turned back to the stairs, scrambling up the ancient, worn surface. I felt the icy blast again.

Go to the car!
I hurled the words to Will from within my mind, adding a visual image of the same phrase.
Go to the car!
I couldn’t let Helga get her hands on Will, and I had the advantage of being someone she wanted
alive
, not dead.
Go to the car! Wait for me there!

Up the cavern stairs I ran, feeling power in my runner’s legs—I was made for this! I burst into daylight and sprang across an ancient courtyard. A few broken paving stones remained scattered upon the uneven ground. Shrubs scratched my jeans as I dashed for a place to screen and calm myself. Walls cut me off from the ground and no rooms remained in which I could hide. The spiral staircase! Just another few feet. The treads on the staircase were deep and worn in the center. As I climbed, some of the steps had crumbled almost away. But suddenly, there I was, at the topmost step.

I crawled up into what had once been an arrow–slit in the tower. Now it was a gaping window large enough to shelter me from sight; you’d have to climb far within the spiral tower to notice me.

Our car waited below; I didn’t see Will.

I hunkered down. Wind whistled past me, in and out of tiny chinks in the ancient stone tower. To one side, all was open air and a fall of several stories. I grabbed a solid–looking bit of wall on the precipice and held tight, trying to quiet my mind, hoping I wouldn’t be followed, wouldn’t be found. Shifting one foot for balance, I dislodged a rock. I cringed as it rolled lazily off the tower, bouncing noisily onto the graveled road beside our car.

Great.

“Come down!” Helga’s voice, strong and authoritative, called to me from below.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Her request was ridiculous. And laughing made me feel braver.
Serious
ly?
She thinks I’d march down to her?
But then I stopped laughing, because there wasn’t anything funny about being trapped at the top of a tower.

What was I thinking?

I looked through the broken window. Was there another way down? I had reasonable skills on the gym rock wall; could I climb down the outside of this tower?

Helga spoke again. “Come down to me and perhaps your father and step–mother will yet live in their drowsy little town. What is it called? Ah, yes. Las Abuelitas.”

My heart froze.
She knows who I am. And how to hurt me.

“Or we can do things more … painfully,” she continued. “There are many ways to extend the life of the dying. I have made it something of a hobby of mine to learn what human flesh can endure.”

I shrank at her words. “You’re evil!” I whispered. Which only made me sound like a child. Something inside me stirred, shifted, and I felt a growing need to command her respect. If she was going to hunt me down like prey, I wouldn’t be the mouse this time. I would be a lioness. Agile. Stealthy. Deadly.

She crept towards the base of the tower, speaking casually of the pains she would inflict upon Sylvia while my father watched.

But she wasn’t the only one who could use words as weapons.

“Helmann won’t like that,” I called, my voice strong and clear.

“How dare you name my father!” she cried.

My barb stings, does it?
I felt emboldened.

“He’s already pissed at you,” I added. “He kicked you out of Geneses, didn’t he?”

“Silence, child!”

“Does he know about your little genetic experiment? Your son?”

Helga growled her hatred of me. Now I could hear her climbing the staircase. I looked around for something to throw. I would not go down without a fight this time. Beneath my right foot, a rock shifted. Angling my foot back and forth, I loosened the stone ‘til I thought I could ease it free. As I grasped it, the rock dropped heavily on one of my left fingers. I inhaled sharply at the pain.

Breathing through the hurt, I hoisted the weapon with my uninjured hand. When I looked up to see how far Helga had come, she’d vanished.
Crap!
I thought. She’d rippled and could reappear anywhere.
No
, the cool logic flowing through me said. She couldn’t come solid on either side of me—no room—nor could she ripple behind me. That meant she could only come solid in front of or below me. For a split second, I wondered if I might be able to ripple now that I’d tamed my fear. But no. I couldn’t simultaneously prepare to bash Helga with a rock and relax into peaceful nothingness. I shifted my weight to gain additional stability. A few rocks at my feet tipped and settled.
This whole place is crumbling to pieces!

Helga materialized not ten feet below me, holding a gun which she pointed at me.

“I’m no use to you dead,” I said, hefting the stone in my right hand.

“Nor can you run away if I blow your kneecap off,” she retorted.

“Do that and I’ll lose my balance,” I pointed out. “The drop will kill me.”

She frowned; she’d already figured this out. The gun was a bluff.

I looked into the ice–blue eyes of the woman who had tormented poor Deuxième—who had probably left him for dead.

“If you come any closer, I’ll jump,” I said, resolve hardening as I spoke.

“Very well,” she said, placing the revolver into a pocket. “So here is what will happen. Should you jump, I will vanish and travel to your charming home town.”

I felt cold prickles in my stomach.

She climbed the stairs towards my nest, slowly, someone who knew she had no need to hurry.

“I’ll count backwards from ten, shall I? And you decide what you would prefer. You can come with me voluntarily, or you can jump.” She began her count. “Ten. Nine.” She took another two steps closer to me. “Eight. Seven. You might just survive that fall, you know. Horribly maimed, of course.”

I looked away from her terrible glacial eyes, mesmerizing as oncoming headlights.

“Six. Five. Certainly you’d be too injured to follow me to Las Abuelitas.” She smiled and continued her inexorable progress. “Four. Three. But I don’t think you’d enjoy watching what I have in mind.” She hissed the last words.

I lifted the stone. My last defense.

Her mouth curved up on one side. “Really, child.” Another step towards me.

My legs shook beneath me.

“Two… and one.” She stood before me, only a few stairs between us. “What is it to be?”

I threw the stone, howling in anger at all she’d done, all she planned.

Helga rippled. The stone bounded harmlessly down the stairway. But I’d unbalanced myself as I threw the rock, and I lurched forward. As I fell, Helga’s invisible form washed through me: cold, dark and evil. Tumbling head–over heels, I lodged hard against the curved wall of the staircase, the wind knocked out of me. Struggling to draw breath, I saw Helga ripple solid where I’d been a second before. She grabbed at the stone wall and kept herself from falling backwards. Roaring in anger, she turned, looking over her shoulder at me, hatred pouring from her eyes.

But as she turned, the gaping sill to which she clung gave way. Two, then six, then a dozen stones plummeted into the open air.

And so did Helga.

Wheezing, I crawled to the ragged new edge of the tower. Helga must have rippled as she fell; she was nowhere to be seen.

But as I searched the ground for her, I saw Sir Walter and Will rippling solid beside the car. Less than a second later, the air beside the old Citroën shimmered again. This time it was Helga. But she didn’t pay close enough attention to her surroundings. Her left hand, thrown out behind her, materialized
within
the back of the car, at the gas–flap. There was a sound like several BB guns firing. Then I heard Helga yelping as she withdrew the bloodied hand that had solidified inside the car, displacing bits of metal. That explained the popping sounds.

Gas dripped lazily down the side of the Citroën as the three upon the ground below me regarded one another.

Glancing at her injured hand for only a second, Helga tucked it under her right arm. Then she aimed her gun at Sir Walter and fired. He rippled away and her bullet lodged in the walls of the ruin. The old gentleman came solid behind her and tried to grab her, but she rippled. He twisted round. Noticing me atop the tower, Sir Walter shouted to Will.

“Get Sam! Ripple with her!”

Will followed Sir Walter’s gaze and met my eye. Just as the air around Will began to waver, Helga came solid and fired at him.

She missed
, I thought.
She can’t have hit him, dear God, please!

I heard a small grunt from the stairs below me. Turning, I saw Will!

“You’re alright,” I said, taking the stairs two at a time to reach him, maybe ten steps below me.

Will grinned as he climbed the stairs towards me. But his hoodie, pale–gray, discolored as a blossom of red appeared below his left shoulder. Will seemed to stumble, and then his eyes rolled up, and he collapsed upon the ancient stairs.

“No,” I cried, jumping down the remaining treads.

The fall had jolted him; he was conscious again when I reached him.

“Hey.” He sounded winded, like he’d just run a hard race. “I don’t feel so … just give me a minute.”

“Take your time,” I said, staring in horror at the patch of red, spreading slowly. I needed gauze; I needed bandages.

“Just another quick sec,” said Will. “I’ll grab you and we’ll ripple together.”

I thought of what Sir Walter had told us about times when rippling didn’t work. Will’s eyes fluttered; he remained conscious, but only just. I needed
sal volatile
—smelling salts!

I remembered the glove box tumbling open. “First aid kit!” I said aloud.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” mumbled Will, shifting to face me. As he turned, he saw the blood–red stain. “Oh,” he sighed. “That explains a lot.”

Below, Helga and Sir Walter traded insults like children at a playground. It seemed neither could defeat the other. But she had to escape him to get to me. Unfortunately, I knew that if she had to battle Sir Walter all day, she would.

A crazy idea came to me as I looked at Will, his eyelids drooping, his lips slightly parted, furrows deepening between his brows. Crazy, but genius. Something inside me wrenched open, flooding me with desperate courage. I was getting that first aid kit and getting us both out of here.

Crazy,
said a voice inside as I brought my face over his ‘til I could feel the flutter of breath as he exhaled.
Crazy,
repeated the voice. Will smelled like blood and French detergent and pine needles.
Crazy.
I brought my mouth to his.