Black Hole Heartbeat

Brack - 61

Brack's blood trickled down through his scales, dripping in front of his eyes. He

had wanted to support Elizabeth. It was far nobler to save an innocent child than

it was to follow orders. But he could not shake off the notion that the pursuit of

the fragment was the right thing to do, regardless of what the others might think.

"What's that noise?" Serpe sniffed the crisp air.

A high-pitched buzz every few seconds. Rusalka toggled a switch on her bracelet

and the noise became quieter.

"It's these," she told everyone, "They're trying to guilt us into turning back by

adding the co-ordinates to our compass."

A wave of sadness hit Brack as he switched his to mute.

"We should go this way around," Isoline said.

There was a landslide blocking the obvious straight route. They could climb the

grassy peak to higher ground or to delve even deeper into the undergrowth of

sharp, twisted vines. Isoline was in favor of the descent. Brack agreed.

"Height in battle is always an advantage," Serpe said.

"Not if it gives away your position too early," Isoline told her.

"If only our great, benevolent dictator was here to guide us," Rusalka said airily.

"With our numbers reduced, remaining undetected is now imperative. Low

ground is our only option," Isoline said.

Serpe yielded with a short nod. She had begun to favor her left leg. The effects of

Ana's serum were wearing off.

They waded through the weeds, slashing at the fat stalks to strip the shrubs.

"Elizabeth would have chosen higher ground," Rusalka said.

"You had the choice to stay with her," Isoline said.

"Oh, I agree that down is the way to go. I don't like to be spotted. I'm shy."

"Is everything a joke to you?" Serpe asked as she sliced through the saplings.

"Elizabeth's problem is that she thinks being in charge of a few thieves is enough

for her to play military commander," Rusalka said.

"Exactly," Isoline said.

"Finally, a thing we can agree on," Serpe said.

"What about you Brack? You must have some stories about her."

Rusalka sheathed her blade and turned to him.

"Well, of course back then, we were just a few thieves."

"Still. I bet it was her way or no way," Rusalka said.

His eyes made a quick dart to Isoline.

"I suppose. But then, her way did make us all very rich."

"She's a snake, Brack," Isoline said.

She spun to face him too. Wet mush of dark leaves dribbled from her blade.

"She worms her way in where she's not wanted, grabs all she can, then slithers

back out. She's a snake, Brack," she repeated, "Isn't she?"

He wriggled his balance from one foot to another. Rusalka eyes. Isoline's fixed

stare. He was an ant trying to avoid the fire from two different magnifying

glasses, unsure where one flame ended and the other began.

"That is a rather accurate description of what we did, yes."

"She kept things from you," Rusalka told him.

"Things? What things?"

"Material things. She considered herself leader of your little gang. You don't think

she felt entitled to a bigger cut of the score?"

"I had my own little trove as well."

"You deserved those things, my love," Isoline said.

She stepped forward and cupped his face in one hand. The other held the knife.

Her thumb snagged on the crust of dried blood as she stroked his forehead.

"Most of them are yours now."

"Ours," she told him, finger pressed to his lips.

"Every hunter has their secret hoard," Rusalka said.

"I don't think Elizabeth does. She was always more concerned with the thrill of

the chase than the prize."

Isoline forced her finger against his lips again, harder this time. Vibrant eyes stern.

"She has one. And –"

The rest of her sentence was cut off by a long, drawn out scream.

They turned to see Serpe on the ground. She stabbed her knife into the dirt and

pulled herself back to her feet.

"What happened?" Brack asked.

"Nothing!" she spat.

Serpe tried to push him aside, but her arm gave up and clawed at him for

balance.

"Hold her up a second," Rusalka said.

She pushed her way through trees. The sound of her crinkling footsteps turned

into the hard hacking of wood. She returned a few seconds later with a five-foot

trunk, roots and branches trimmed away.

"What is that?" Serpe said.

"It's a crutch. Don't pretend you don't need it."

Serpe snatched it away from her and jammed it under her armpit.

"Don't slow us down," Isoline said.