Лори Девоти - Amazon Queen

She lunged toward me. I sidestepped, lifting my staff as I did and whipping the far end to strike her across the eyes. As the force sent her backward, I lashed the staff behind me and swung again, this time targeting the back of her knees. She fell and I pounced forward, intending to pin her and end this farce, but her hand lifted and the knife she held flew toward me-not thrown by the strength of her arm. I had her in a position where that was impossible. The blade was sped and guided by something I couldn't see. . or perhaps I could. . Thea's eyes were focused like lasers and her lips moved in some unending chant. She was calling on some power I had never seen before, doing something I didn't even realize was possible. She was moving objects with her mind.

I darted to the left, but the blade struck my thigh. It was short, probably only six inches long from tip to guard, but it still hurt. . more than it should have.

With the knife sticking out of my body, I recognized it: a kitchen knife probably in the items brought back from the market by the hearth-keepers. I grimaced and reached up to grab the handle, to pull it free. Under my hand it began to twist, as if some invisible being held the handle too and was trying to twirl the blade sheathed in my thigh.

Thea stared at the knife, her face dispassionate but her intention clear. With my left hand I lifted my staff and smashed it across her face. Then, my chest heaving, I dropped the staff onto the dirt.

The chanting stopped. The twisting stopped. I jerked the blade free and stood over the high council's chosen queen. If I plunged the blade into her heart while she was queen, there would be no going back. I would be like Mel, cut off from the tribe forever. Except Mel was happy with her decision; she would never ask to come back.

How would I feel?

The knife's handle was slippery from my blood or sweat. I wasn't sure which.

Thea's head was turned to the side; she didn't know she was about to die.

I started to squat; my lips were dry and my hand shook, but I knew I could do it. Knew she would continue to fight me, to lie to my own tribe about me. There was no choice. My time with the Amazons was over; my life as I knew it was over. Why not take the person who took it from me out too?

The knife gripped tightly in my hand, I lifted my arm.

A grunting snarl caused my head to raise. Jack in his wolverine form dashed toward me. I barely had time to register what was happening before he struck me in the chest. I fell backward, the knife still in my hand. Around me a full battle erupted.

Bern spun and jabbed with her staff, holding off the warriors who had first rushed me. The hearth-keepers' truck was parked beside the fracas, the doors open and the engine running. Sare, armed with a short knife she used when carving totems, was fighting with Lao. The hearth-keeper, armed only with the hard plastic lid of a cooler, swung double-handed and smacked the artisan in the side of the head.

When Lao saw me, she motioned to Tess. The younger hearth-keeper jumped behind the wheel and gunned the engine.

I realized then we were leaving, or at least the others were planning to leave.

But leaving meant giving up, deserting the camp that had been my home for over ten years.

I couldn't do it.

I shoved Jack off of my chest and stood. Immediately the son was beside me, naked and in his human form.

He grabbed me by the arm. "Don't be an idiot. The battle is bigger than this." He motioned to the Amazons still fighting. "We need you. Your tribe needs you."

My tribe. Were they my tribe? They didn't seem to think so.

I stared at him, denying the angry tears I could feel forming at the back of my eyes. I blinked and shut down the response. I had never cried in my life; I wasn't going to do so now.

Back under control, I glanced at the two Amazons still fighting with me, for me. Lao, a hearth-keeper well past her prime, and Bern, an outcast warrior. Then there was the wet-behind-the-ears hearth-keeper shaking like a newborn rabbit in the truck.

My own personal army of misfit toys.

Jack leaned close, until his lips were pressed against my ear. "Sheep go to slaughter. Don't be a goddamn sheep anymore, Zery."

I jerked my arm free, picked up my staff, and jumped into the fray. Taking unfair advantage of the warriors' focus on Bern, I smacked one in the back of the head with my staff. As the other stumbled, unsure what to do, I gestured for Tess and the truck. She roared into the middle of the fight. Bern and I jumped into the back, jerking Lao in after us, and Tess hit the gas.

The mother dog had been curled up on an old feed sack in the corner with her two healthy puppies. She belly crawled closer and I stroked her head as Tess wheeled the vehicle in a sharp U-turn.

In seconds we were thundering down the thin drive. Behind us Jack held up one hand, then shifted. In his wolverine form, he gave a last snapping growl at Sare, who still held her blade, and dashed into the woods.

My hand stroking the dog's head, I stared blindly at the disappearing house.

I had done what I thought I never would. I had left the tribe.

As the truck turned onto the highway, I think we all realized we had nowhere to go. Tess yelled at us through the open sliding window.

"Where to?"

The puppy I'd been afraid was dying poked his head over her shoulder. He looked weak, but still alive.

All eyes turned to me.

There was really only one answer. "Madison."

Tess's eyes met Lao's in the rearview mirror, but the older hearth-keeper just nodded her head. "Back to Madison, but I think we may have a stop to make first." She looked at me. "Is that right?" She tapped on the truck with her palm.

I realized then what she was saying. We couldn't drive to Madison sitting in a truck bed. We needed a new, bigger vehicle-or at least a second vehicle.

After a brief discussion, we opted for the second.

We pulled into a truck stop and let Lao out. It hadn't taken much talk to decide Bern and I stood out too much for the job.

But who would suspect a woman who appeared to be in her sixties of boosting a car?

We kept busy by driving down the road a bit and lifting a set of plates off a sedan parked behind a garage. The thing was smashed in completely on the passenger's side, but the plates were perfectly fine, and since the shop was already closed for the day and would stay closed tomorrow, Sunday, we had until Monday before anyone noticed-if they noticed then.

With the plates dusted off and ready to install, we drove to our meeting place, a country cemetery visited by more cows than people.

Lao drove up in a dark blue two-door. The back was loaded with boxes.

Standing next to the vehicle, Lao said, "Salesman. Looks like a company car."

I nodded. Jack had been wrong about us. . at least the Amazons under my command. We did think about how our stealing affected our victims. Didn't mean we never hurt someone, but we weren't totally callous about others either. If we could choose between leaving a family stranded at a truck stop and a lone salesman? No contest.

"What's he selling?" Hopefully it was nothing that would bring too much heat down on us.

Bern reached in the backseat and ripped into a box. "Looks like toys." She pulled out a squishy frog that lit up when you squeezed his stomach.

"Oh." Lao gestured for Bern to grab a plastic bag sitting on the car's floor. The warrior pulled out a can of evaporated milk and an eyedropper.

"In case the mama won't feed him," Lao explained.

Loaded down with the puppy, toy, milk, and eyedropper, Bern went to sit in the shade while Lao changed the vehicle's plates.

When the plates were changed, we divided up again-Bern and Tess in the truck, Lao and myself with the dogs in the car.