Dark Muse (20 page)

“You never said you’d kill one of us for the
information!”

The sharp smile cut the sea air. “And you
never asked. I believe it’s your fault, dear.”

“Prepare him.”

The ship bounced over the cresting waves as
it neared the shoreline. The rest of the band and siblings held
tight to the rails as the creatures held fast to their positions.
Muddy realized that if he were to attempt a rescue, the creatures
would slash them all to ribbons, meaty ribbons, thus turning a
snack into a buffet. Five bodies against an octet of half-bird,
half-woman beasts equaled no contest. He would have to think fast,
unless someone else spawned a plan.

“You’ll thank me for this, one day,” she
said. “You’ll be accomplishing something no other human, no other
musician has ever done, along with saving your family.”

“You are nothing but beasts,” Muddy shouted.
“Trading one life for another is murder.”

Why wasn’t anyone else jumping in and
helping him? There had to be some way to bribe or trick these
creatures, wasn’t there?

“We’ll bring you the Dark Muse himself,” he
said, immediately realizing how idiotic he sounded.

She cackled above him. “Of course you will.
He will easily allow you to bring him back through the gauntlet and
to our boat where he knows what will befall him, won’t he? And I
thought you were a smart one.”

“Well, that’s a first. I’ve never heard that
claim one from someone.”

From behind him one of the highest notes he
had ever heard sounded, tearing into his ears. Soprano range but
thick in tone, it rose to a crescendo that threatened to shatter
his ear drums. It then fell, rose again and began a fierce aural
dance over his head. Others joined the song but in pained,
discordant harmony. Someone pulled at his shirt from behind and he
nearly tumbled over the edge of the boat.

His eyes caught sight of the source of the
song. Poe way out on the bow, holding onto the rope descending from
the mast with arms outstretched. Her mouth hung wide open and her
throat vibrated in a sultry song that pierced their strength,
leaving them all weak-kneed on the deck. Her head tossed back and
forth in a snake charmer’s slow dance, almost like her effect on
the grass. The others lay close to him, helpless, but smiling.

His bewildered look must have cued Lyra, who
eased her head toward the beasts holding Corey. They had released
him, hands and talons pinned to their ears in agony, obviously
trying to block out Poe’s attack. He skittered away from them and
moved toward the band, safe, aside from a few shallow cuts. The
leader fought it hard, flapping her wings in defiance, yet her head
swung from the song. She wouldn’t give up that easily. Her eyes
burned at the idea of them using their own weapon against her and
her sisters. Her mouth opened, attempting to form words, but it
failed as she crumpled to one knee. Soon, all the sirens lay on the
deck, writhing in confusion and pain as the band eased to where Poe
stood. With one hand, she beckoned them. Muddy didn’t know what to
make of the gesture until Luke pointed toward the water.

“Jump,” he mouthed, his voice swallowed in
the volume.

Are you kidding
? They’d never make it
the couple hundred feet in rough surf before the creatures caught
up with them. Then there was the beach run all the way to the
cave.

Poe turned to them and nodded. No! They never
would.
She
might not, but the others were already on the
edge of the longship.

“I’m not leaving you,” he yelled. Then
someone pushed him and his world turned upside down. He tumbled end
over end for a long moment before splashing into the sea. Silence
flooded into his ears, blocking out everything else, but he
remembered to hold his breath. His dad had told him that drowning
was the worst way to die. He only needed to hear that once.

Splashes erupted around him as he tried to
find the surface. Light beamed down from above and he clawed for
it. Muddy felt bubbles pushing themselves from his lips, little
bits of life that he needed to replace, but the waves held him
down.

Up. Up. Fight! His lungs cried as he pin
wheeled his arms. One hand broke the surface, then the other. He
kicked his legs through the churning cement of roiling water. The
current pulled at him, but he couldn’t let Poe down. Next to his
brother and his dad, she was the only other person he would die
for, hands down without hesitation.

“Poe!” he cried as his face felt the ocean
air. He sucked in a lungful of the cold, salty, lovely, air but it
burned his insides as he coughed out a little seawater.

A wave knocked him under and he instinctively
kicked downwards. With both hands and feet he broke through the
water again to suck down air. Wiping away the salt, he squinted
through the dimming light around him for the shore. The current
must have dragged him out a bit more but he could still see the
shore. Now, about two hundred feet away, he knew he would have to
swim to where the swells grew big enough to break, then ride a wave
onto the beach without drowning or being smashed onto the rocks. He
swung both arms into the cool water and began his quest for the
perfect ride. After waiting through a trio of breakers that failed
to carry him, he noticed a massive one swelling up right in front
of the ship. Three dark shapes rose and fell with it as it
approached him.

No, Muddy cried inside. You can’t save anyone
from here. Get to the shore first, and then find a way to get Corey
and Poe back alive. He cursed himself for sounding selfish, but
deep within he knew that to do anything else was pure suicide. His
only skill lay with that guitar and now it hung on his back, soaked
in sea water, probably ruined. His muscles wouldn’t even get him
back to the ship.

He turned back to try to catch sight of Poe
on the ship but the waves pushed him too far. He prayed she had
jumped soon after the rest were in the water.

While he was feeling sorry for himself, that
wave began to break. A ribbon of white foam curled at the top and
he knew he would either take it to the shore, or to his grave. He
dipped his arms, straight out in front and kicked his legs as hard
as he could. A thousand pounds of ocean slammed into him and
pushed. Hard.

Like a leaf in a storm gutter, he was a
victim of the current. Water bubbled all around him while he
struggled to keep his head above it all, to keep sight of the
beach. He did see until the undertow sucked his arms down and
flipped him over, making him part of the crash. He banged against
the sand and rocky shore, over and over, head, then knees, then his
back, until it threw him onto the soft water’s edge.

Am I broken?
Air failed to enter his
sore lungs. He inhaled only pain and tossed his body onto all
fours. The current had only knocked the wind out of him. His voice
sounded odd, but he tried again. This time, a little breath filled
part of him. Another inhale filled more. A few more times and he
breathed normally; normal for being the ocean’s plaything.

“Muddy,” someone cried. “You okay?”

He
was
okay. He
was
alive. The
wave didn’t kill him. He stood on rubbery legs and turned to face
the voice.

Then a wave crashed into his back, knocking
him down as his world went black.

Then, hands pulled at him, shaking him back
to reality. Now he truly felt broken.

Otis and Luke turned him over to face the
lifeless forms of Poe and Corey, unmoving lumps upon the sand
behind him.

“No,” he wheezed, feeling his chest contract.
“No. No. No.” Each time he tried to scream, his lungs betrayed
him.

She couldn’t be gone. He grieved over Corey,
too, but he’d promised Poe that he would always be there to protect
her.

Don’t leave me now, please.

He dove into the sand between them, tears
welling up in his eyes, blurring his view of the bodies. He ached
for his guitar. That would fix it. The guitar had power. Silver Eye
told him so. He’d
seen
it himself.

It lay in the surf, yards away. He raced over
and picked it up. Feeling as heavy as the metal he grew up
listening to, he couldn’t sling it across his shoulders.
Water.
Dump it. Now.

He flipped it over and the seawater oozed
out. His arms ached with exhaustion as he shook out the insides.
Clumps of sand tumbled out onto his sopping feet. His fingers
clamored for a thick power chord to shake his buddies to life, but
the sand felt melded to the strings, glued to the fretboard.

He swatted at the caked strings with both
hands, hearing someone yelling at him, someone bellowing or
growling behind him. What was there? The sirens? Of course. They
would follow the crew onto shore to finish the others off for a
dessert.

“Muddy!” someone screamed.

He turned and threw the guitar into the
surf.

“Muddy!”

Otis flapped his thin armed like an angry
crane. He pointed at the ground.

Corey was on all fours, hacking up what
seemed to be most of the beach.

How?

Luke sat atop Poe and pumped her chest, his
mouth on hers. Muddy burned with a pang of jealousy before he
realized that the boy was performing CPR. Why didn’t he think of
that?

He didn’t know the procedure, that’s why.
This guy, who had his lips pressed to hers, knew exactly what to
do. What was wrong with him? Her life was all that mattered.
Period.

He dropped to his knees by the teen, wishing
he could help. The blond boy pressed rhythmically on Poe’s chest,
hoping to dislodge the water. Lyra and Corey joined him. Out of
nowhere, thunder sounded and time stopped.

They all shook and Muddy fell backwards into
an oncoming wave then turned.

There he stood. Otis. With a mallet of
driftwood held in one hand like a club, he swung it down. Again and
again he struck the mass of bones from so many creatures and
humans. The booming vibrated the group nearly off the ground.

Next to them, someone coughed. Like the most
beautiful fountain in this world or any other, Poe spat out a
stream of water over a foot in the air. She coughed again.

Alive!
Muddy screamed inside to no one
at all, except his heart.

He crawled over and cradled her head in his
arms. “Let it out,” he wheezed between tears.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. It
was something he would never get used to, but prayed he did. She
saw
him. What did she see? The special ed dweeb the rest of
his schoolmates saw or what he’d hoped she saw in her blindness,
who he truly was within?

“What happened?” Her voice croaked with
remnants of seawater.

“You,” he answered. “You saved us. That’s all
that matters.”

“Guys,” Corey said, “I’m just as happy, but I
think we should get moving. Now.”

They turned and saw that their pursuers had
yet to give up.

The sirens flew toward the band. Fast. With
wingspans wider than the mouth of the cave behind them, at least
six sirens jetted, each appearing to target a particular
individual. Muddy locked eyes with the one drawing a bead on him
and froze. He shot a glance at the cave opening behind them. How
big it was and how much protection it would yield was unknown.
Still, it wasn’t as though they had a choice. It would provide some
shelter, but these beasts could still hunt them down inside. They
made a mad dash to the entrance, about a hundred feet away. Their
attackers were right behind, moving slow and vicious, with a
practiced purpose.

He and Corey ran the distance, making it
safely inside. They scanned the interior, taking in the deep
purplish walls rushing out in both directions, forming an oblong,
slimmer than a football field, only a few first downs long. They
crept to the ceiling, the height of the amp stacks at a Metallica
concert with just as few footholds.

They stood within a solid room. No doors, no
openings save for the one they entered. Then realization crept over
them. The cave would become their crypt. As the others joined them,
Muddy’s fear grew into a physical being. “They did lie,” he
said.

“I guess they’ll be eating in today?” Otis
never stopped joking, but this time, his voice shook just a
hair.

“Look for cover,” Muddy yelled over the din
of the beating wings. But, where?

Poe and the twins raced toward the back of
the cave on the right side, feeling for a corner where none
existed. Corey and Otis stood tall at the entrance, appearing to
protect their brave little troupe in vain.

Where do I go?
Muddy thought,
panicking.
Do I try to hide her or give up my life with my
friends? Which is braver and which might allow her to live
longer?

His mind raced as he pondered how to spend
his last few moments. Surely, Otis and Corey knew the futility of
the situation. No way out meant no way out! By nightfall, their
bones would be indistinguishable from those carpeting the
beach.

Then Otis did something Muddy would never
forget, or understand. He turned to the opening, raised his sticks
and muttered a few choice words. Then the diminutive drummer ran
right
at
the winged creatures.

Muddy and Corey screamed at him to return,
but the teen kept going, drum and sticks in hand.

“It’s suicide,” Muddy cried, hands clenching,
wishing for a weapon.

The sax player stood still, resigned. “If the
little guy wants to go out with a bang, let him. At least he’s
doing it on his terms. It’s better than a disease killing you.”

“Is it?”

“We’ll likely be joining him, but I don’t
plan on giving those harpies fast food, either.”

As Otis dove through the mass of bones, under
the bones themselves, they realized both of them had been
wrong.

“What the heck?” Corey shook his head. “He
can’t be hiding. After all he’s been through, he’s hiding—while
we’re in here waiting to be shredded?”