'Well, he's gone now,' I assured her. I suppose that we should not have been so surprised at his treachery. He had been willing to risk everything to bring his beloved back. Of course he would be willing to merely lie for her.
'At least we know he's dead. The Feds must have cut his head off and burned the body by now.'
'Most likely.'
'One down. One to go,' she said angrily.
I tried to change the subject from her death vendetta against her parents. Almost any subject was lighter than that. 'So, can we technically consider today a first date?'
'I guess. Next time, how about we do dinner and a movie?' She laughed as the tension broke.
'Ha. What girl wouldn't want to crawl through a haunted swamp, get killed, and travel through time? That's one heck of a date.'
'You must have dated some strange women.'
'Actually I haven't dated very many women at all. I haven't had much luck.'
'Why?'
'They usually think I'm weird.' That much was true. Slightly strange, kind of big awkward, and ugly-I was no charmer.
'Me too.'
'You think I'm weird?' I shouted over the noise.
'No, I mean that people have always thought that about me. You know, crazy girl, always talking about monsters. Spends all her time shooting, building bombs, or practicing how to chop things up. Hangs out with a bunch of crazy people. Paranoid, delusional, lives in a compound, that kind of thing. It takes a real toll on relationships.'
'See, I think that sounds perfect.'
'You would.' She leaned against me.
Across the troop compartment, Holly made gagging motions. Julie and I both flipped her the bird. She winked at us and went back to harassing Trip.
'Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds,' Harbinger said over the radio, 'but we've got business. Julie, see what other teams you can contact and find out their status. Owen has something he needs to do too.'
'I need to get some sleep,' I told her.
'I know, it's been a tough day.'
'That's not what I mean. I need to make contact with the Old Man. I need to find the Cursed One. Tomorrow night is it.'
'Are you going to try to see through his eyes again?'
'I don't know,' I answered. 'I've got to do something.'
She looked out the window and sighed, shuddering slightly.
'Be careful.'
'I will.'
'Come back to me. I can't lose anybody else.'
'I promise.'
'Boy! Much has happened,' the Old Man exclaimed. 'What have you done?'
'I turned on the artifact, I guess,' I answered.
'Is as I feared. This is terrible. Much terrible.' He shuffled toward me, hobbling on his cane.
'Hey, we're all still alive. It sure beats the alternative.'
'No,' he answered. 'Not better at all. Not for you.'
'Hey, I'm the one that had a spine sticking out my aorta.'
'Better to be dead than be cursed tool of the ancient evil.'
'I'm nobody's tool,' I said angrily. I was getting really tired of everybody treating me as if I was stupid. 'I did the best that I could.'
'No, Boy. Now is much worse than before.' His bony hand grabbed me by the arm. 'Come, hurry. One last memory to show.'
I stopped him, pulling away. 'No, Mordechai. I don't have time to screw around. Just give me a straight answer for once. Where is he, and how do I kill him?'
'You not are ready for such things.' He looked at me, his hard eyes drooped in sadness. 'Boy, to do such a thing would make you dead for sure. Not just dead. But maybe worse. Much worse. Cursed like he is even.'
'But I'm not evil,' I said defensively.
'No. Surprised I have been by you being so good.' He lifted his cane and thumped me in the chest. 'Good, but sometimes stupid. Brave, but proud. Too proud for own good. If not more careful, pride will kill you and blow up world. Think you can solve problems, but no patience to learn. Want to rush. Do things now.' He puffed himself up and did a very poor imitation of me. 'I am Boy. Now, now, now. Hurry, hurry. I can do everything. No need to learn first!'
'You would need about two more of you to do a good impersonation of me, you old midget,' I told him. 'Plus I don't sound like that at all.'
'Bah. You are good boy. But no longer can you worry about what you are. You are Monster Hunter. Your father, he made you warrior. Do not-how you say? — pretend to be something else. No time for doubt. No time for 'normal' ' He spat the word.
'You know about that?'
'I live in your head. What? I not pay attention? Now I ask one thing. Just one. Do this for me. I promise before time run out I show you new vision. At that time, what do have to lose? Your brain probably pop, serve you right. But world is destroyed right after anyway.'
'Fair enough. What do you need?'
He thumped me over the head with his cane. Hard. 'Shut up your big mouth and pay attention!' he snapped. 'Last memories while Cursed One was still just man.' He put his hands on my head. 'We leave quick before he makes change. To be in his head at time, surely you die.'
I rubbed the bump on my head. I just did not get much respect around here.
'Let's do this,' I said.
Lord Machado's memories.
Were of dirt. Brown dirt.
I woke up. Facedown in the mud. Lying crumpled in my armor at the base of the mighty pyramid. I must have tumbled the entire way. The rain had stopped, and the jungle sun burned down upon me. I staggered up, heaving against the weight of my plate. Crusted blood coated my body, and wept from my many wounds.
My artifact.
I crawled up the stairs, pulling myself forward on my hands and knees, so very weak, and the pyramid was so very tall. I pulled, gasped and kicked, raggedly crawling my way ever higher.
I blacked out repeatedly, only to find that I had climbed higher without knowing it. My skin burned in the sun and my delirium and thirst increased. I began to crawl past bodies, past the torn remains of my soldiers who had so bravely fought the stone guardians. I cursed them for their betrayal. I cursed Captain Thrall.
Finally at the top, I kicked away the giant feasting buzzards. My ax was embedded through the back of the captain's now-empty suit of mail. His body was gone.
The artifact was gone.
I screamed at the sky. Cursing everything, swearing vengeance upon all, I tore my blade free, shaking it overhead. I vowed to regain that which was mine.
The body of the priestess Koriniha was facedown in a puddle. The carrion birds had pulled her open and eaten freely. Her fine robes were crusted with dried red, stained with her spilled organs. The buzzards reluctantly hopped away as I approached.
She was the key.
I had to bring her back.
We were two weeks from the city, a hard trek through dark jungle paths. I could not carry her weight all that way, especially alone, wounded, and without provisions. I knelt beside her, and with my ax, carefully stripped the flesh from her bones, breaking joints as necessary to reduce her to her component parts. When I was done, I
