Chapter Twenty-One

THE HAIAVAHA

The mood in the cabin changed instantly. Oliver was the first to drop his hand to his sword. "Methinks it's time to split," he said, peering out of the cabin.

"Right you are," Chester agreed. "Women and Lore Masters first." He was out of the cabin in three elastic steps. "Hustle, peo­ple," he called back, scrambling down the ladder. "I'm getting a tingle. It's coming, and it's big."

They bolted after him. Dark Star looked grim, edgy, and Alex found that worrying. He pulled Acacia to the side. "Get ready. Remember what I said."

"Big monkey time? Monkey shmunkey," she grinned, drawing her sword. "Just give me something to cut, and I don't care if it's King Kong."

That, of course, had been Griffin's first thought. "They wouldn't really hit us with King Kong, would they?"

"I should let you sweat, asking a question like that. Of course not, dumbo. This is New Guinea, not Skull Island. Different mythos."

"Just asking." Alex followed Oliver down the ladder. He felt the vibrations as soon as his feet touched the dock. He lifted his arms to help Holly, and she fell back against him.

"Now normally I get along just fine, handsome, but in your case I'll-"

He felt her cheek, against his, grow taut. "Holy hell. Griffin-" Alex spun around, and gasped. Two hundred meters away, a light plane of some kind was taking to the air, in pieces. Water surged, and the dock shook with the impact of the waves. A sound that started in the bones and radiated outward, only belatedly rec­ognizable as a bestial snarl, grew in intensity until it hurt their ears. They glimpsed a dark, vaguely manlike figure rising above the water, then sinking again behind a capsized ocean liner. The liner trembled, and the grinding wheeze of shredded steel filled the air.

Oliver flashed a glance at Chester. "What do you think, Ches? How do we tackle it?"

The Lore Master was peering out over the junked vessels with tiny frown lines crinkling his forehead. "We don't even know what the hell it is. All I know is that that mother's strong." He squeezed Gina's hand hard, and she flinched. "And angry. Honey, how much time do we have before curfew?"

She lifted a naked wrist. "No watch."

"Just about fifty minutes," Griffin volunteered.

Chester considered. He looked worried. "I don't really want to tackle that thing tonight. We're all a little tired, and I think that Lopez is counting on that. Well, I'm going to surprise him and back off."

Bowan the Black, face set in a mask of frustration, pushed his way past Oliver to protest. "What do you mean, ‘back off'?"

Chester snapped, "What would I mean, Bowan?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing you right. This is the second time you've had us turn tail, Henderson. It doesn't look good on my record."

"How would being on the receiving end of a massacre look on your record?"

Dark Star had sidled up next to Bowan. She said, "You may

not think we can handle it. I do." She turned to the others. "Any­one else? Shall we do a quick vote?"

"It'll have to be quick," Chester said. The thing was wading to­ward them now, leaving a white wake. A river of water flowed from its fur. Smaller than King Kong, but much larger than a man, it seemed a cross between an ape and a boar, with a boar's tiny eyes, long snout, and jutting white tusks. Wet, the fur was almost black; but the lank dry fur of its head and shoulders was red, with bright orange and yellow-white tufts. Its arms were dispropor­tionately long; the hands were underwater as it waded straight to­ward them. Chester said, "We're short of dithering-time. Okay, I vote we run for it."

Oliver ground his foot nervously. "Sorry, Chester. I've gotta back Bowan on this."

"Okay. Gwen?"

She held onto Oliver silently. The body language was clear.

"Alright, who else?"

Griffin had chosen. "Follow the Lore Master. Run, but keep looking back. We might learn something."

"I agree," said Margie. Owen nodded.

S.J. seemed very unhappy, one thin hand in front of his mouth, brown eyes darting back and forth before he finally moved next to Chester.

He knows something, Griffin told himself. He caught Acacia's eye and motioned her toward him. She gritted her teeth, but she came.

Holly Frost was watching Griffin with the barest of smiles purs­ing her lips. The wheels turning in her head were nearly audible. She stepped toward Chester, who nodded his appreciation.

"Airight," he b'àrked, "no more time for fence-sitters. Decision time, people." Eames joined Bowan. Tony moved to join Chester. Acacia tried to establish eye contact with Tony, but he ignored her.

Mary-em grinned rakishly. "Now normally, I love a fight. But I'll stick with my buddies this time." She linked arms with Griffin and Holly.

Chester took a quick count. "That does it. Outvoted, Bowan." The black-garbed figure gripped Chester's arm and spoke low. "Let me try a spell, Chester? Please? You can start the rest run­ning."

Chester's eyes focussed on the oncoming monster. Abruptly he

nodded. "Try it if it's quick." His voice rose. "Not much time, people. Gina, put a firebolt into that Quonset hut. The rest of you, head for the slopes."

Bowan had turned to face the bay. He breathed deeply, ready­ing himself, and raised his arms.

Gina called on the gods. Flame lashed from her staff. The Navy Headquarters building whooshed flames from doors and windows. Bowan's voice was impassioned.

"Oh gods of Darkness, grim and cold, Deliver us from Evil's hold.

Destroy this ape, whate'er it be, And transfer all its power to me!"

At the sound of the last line, Chester's head jerked around. "What-?"

Green light formed a halo around Bowan. Green light reached toward the monster in a narrow spear of destruction. The monster snarled and waved a black-taloned fist. The bolt touched its face.

And fire lashed back along its length, as if green light could burn like gasoline. The halo enclosing Bowan flashed from green to yellow-white. They heard the whuff of the fire catching, and then Bowan screaming curses from inside a tremendous candle flame.

Bowan ran out of curses. He stepped out of the flame and looked upslope, to where the Garners had stopped to watch. "Chester?"

There was pallid light around him now; even his robe seemed white, and his face whiter. Behind him the great flame stuttered and died away.

"You've got to help me, Chester!" Bowan called.

The boar-ape walked up onto the dock. Bowan flinched vio­lently, but it passed Bowan as if he did not exist.

The Lore Master glanced from Bowan to the advancing beast. He screamed, "No time, Bowan. You're already dead! Look be­hind you!"

Where flame had engulfed Bowan the Black, there stood a neat conical heap of ash with black bones protruding.

Dark Star tried to run to the slain magician, but Chester caught her by the arm. "Can't afford to lose you too. Get up the incline, dammit!"

The monster took one more step toward the fleeing Garners, then turned ponderously toward the blazing Quonset hut. It disap­peared behind the building.

Chester's eyes widened as he watched a plume of firelit smoke sucking itself back into the building's doors and windows. The flames went black-black!-dwindled and were gone, leaving not so much as a soot stain on the corrugated metal.

"Double damn," Chester whispered. "Now that's a trick." Then, "Oh!"

He fished into his pocket and pulled out a teardrop-shaped crys­tal, clear as ice, with a blood-red spider frozen in the center. He pointed it at the monster. "Hear me, oh gods! I request a tracer, a mark by which to find this beast on the morrow!" His aura flick­ered with strain, but the talisman lit from within, the spider crawl­ing sluggishly to life. "Got you," he grinned at the monster, drop­ping the crystal back into his pocket. "And tomorrow..." He turned and ran, ignoring the dying sound of Bowan's voice, the milk-pale tindalo still standing with arms outstretched, screaming: