We dash across the rough and stony terrain, our feet churning up dust. The buzzing seems to chase us.

  ‘Over there!’ says Phoenix, pointing to a crevice in a small rocky outcrop.

  Dropping to our hands and knees, we scramble into the narrow gap. Panting hard, I lie still and listen for the approaching drone. My heart thumps hard in my chest, my breathing becomes ragged. The buzzing of the drone grows louder, drawing ever closer … I exchange an anxious look with Phoenix. For several impossibly long seconds the drone hovers above our hiding place. Then we hear it move off and disappear into the distance, the desert falling mercifully quiet once more.

  ‘Do you think it spotted us?’ I whisper.

  ‘No way of knowing,’ says Tarek, cautiously peeking up at the now-empty sky. ‘I didn’t like the way it hovered over us. A high-res camera could easily pick up our tracks …’

  ‘We need to keep moving while we can,’ says Phoenix.

  One by one the others clamber out of the refuge, back into the blazing sun. As I follow them, the last to crawl from the gap, my foot disturbs a rock behind me and I hear a harsh rattling noise. I look back over my shoulder, peering into the crevice, and stop dead still. A sandy-coloured, diamond-backed rattlesnake unfurls itself from behind the dislodged rock. Its beaded tail quivers threateningly and its forked tongue flicks in and out, tasting the dry air.

  A deep-rooted fear from my distant past paralyses me and I have a flashback to the garden in Egypt and the cobra rising from the wicker basket, recalling how it tried to sink its fangs into me. That time, Nefe had warned me and Raneb deprived it of its head.

  But this time I’m not so lucky. Before I can break its mesmerizing spell and scramble away, the rattlesnake strikes.

  34

  The searing pain is instant, venom burning through my veins like wildfire. As the rattlesnake rears up to strike again, Phoenix drags me clear, all the while Jude and Tarek are shouting and hurling rocks at the scaly serpent. Frightened, it slithers into the darkest recesses of the crevice and disappears.

  I lie panting and in pain on the hot stony ground.

  Phoenix examines me hastily. ‘Did it bite you?’

  Nodding, I pull up my trouser leg. Two small puncture wounds mark my calf, blood seeping from the holes. The skin is already turning red and swollen.

  Phoenix turns to Jude and Tarek, who stand over me, their faces taut with alarm. ‘Did either of you get a good look at the snake?’

  ‘Yeah,’ says Tarek, taking the medical kit from Jude’s rucksack. ‘Sandy-yellow and brown, with diamonds down its back.’

  Phoenix swears under his breath. ‘A Mojave rattlesnake.’

  ‘Is that bad?’ I ask as the sharp stinging in my leg creeps upwards.

  Jude rolls her eyes to the heavens. ‘Kind of. It’s only one of the world’s most venomous snakes!’ she mutters.

  ‘What?’ I cry, my heart racing.

  ‘Thanks, Jude,’ mutters Phoenix sarcastically. ‘That’s a great help. Go ahead – panic the patient, why don’t you?’ He rests a hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eyes. ‘Genna, you need to stay calm. Or the poison will spread faster through your system.’

  I nod and try to slow my breathing. But the pain is intensifying with each passing second.

  Kneeling down beside me, Tarek examines the wound. ‘The fangs went deep,’ he observes.

  ‘What have you got in that med kit?’ asks Phoenix.

  ‘All the usual stuff,’ he replies, sifting through the bag. ‘Antiseptic wipes, plasters, saline solution, bandages –’

  ‘Wrap those round her leg now,’ Phoenix instructs.

  ‘You shouldn’t use a tourniquet on a snake bite,’ says Jude firmly.

  ‘I know. I learned that the hard way in the Amazon jungle in a previous life,’ Phoenix replies, holding my leg straight. ‘But we need to apply pressure to restrict the venom’s flow if we can.’

  I grit my teeth as Tarek wraps the bandage tightly round my calf and thigh and ties it off. ‘Without anti-venom, there isn’t any more I can do,’ he explains with an apologetic smile.

  ‘Then we need to get Genna to a hospital, as quickly as possible,’ says Phoenix.

  ‘No problem,’ says Jude, pointing into the empty desert. ‘There’s one just round the corner.’

  ‘Your sarcasm isn’t helping,’ snaps Phoenix, glaring at her. ‘But you can help me carry Genna. We’ll make for the nearest road and flag down a car.’

  Tarek joins the other two and they hoist me into the air. As I’m borne along under the unforgiving steel-blue sky, my head begins to throb and sweat beads across my brow. But it isn’t from the desert heat. Rather, I feel as if I’m burning up from inside.

  ‘Thirsty,’ I gasp, but there’s nothing they can do. We’ve no water.

  The three of them stagger on. But the combination of the heat from the sun, our lack of water and my dead weight soon wear out my bearers. Exhausted, they lay me on the ground. My heart is now pounding and my breath is coming in short rasps. I try to sit up and feel immediately dizzy and sick. My skin is becoming strangely numb. I’m aware enough to realize that, despite the compression bandage, the venom is coursing through my veins and attacking my nervous system. I collapse back into the sand.

  Tarek puts a hand to my forehead and checks my pulse. ‘She’s feverish,’ he confirms, ‘and her heartbeat’s rapid.’

  ‘We’ve got – to keep going,’ insists Phoenix, panting hard.

  ‘No!’ Jude overrules him. ‘We’re only making things worse for Genna by moving her.’

  ‘Then one of us has to run ahead and find help,’ says Phoenix.

  ‘I’ll go,’ volunteers Tarek without hesitation, already standing up and turning away. He runs off into the distance, heading west.

  As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jude rounds on Phoenix. ‘This is all your fault, Phoenix!’ she snaps, stabbing a finger at him.

  ‘How’s it my fault?’ he shoots back as I lie writhing in agony on the parched earth. ‘You were the one who let Genna leave Haven in the first place!’

  ‘Well, if we’d gone by the road, we wouldn’t be in this situation!’

  ‘Snakes are everywhere in this desert – it’s just bad luck!’

  As they continue arguing, my vision begins to blur and the figures of Phoenix and Jude warp before my eyes –

  ‘More like a stupid decision,’ counters Jude. ‘How come when I lost my First Ascendant everyone blamed me, but for you it’s just plain bad luck?’

  ‘You lost your Ascendant to Tanas –’ their raised voices become distant and muffled in my ears – ‘I’m not losing Genna … not now, not ever.’

  Their words swirl in my head – ‘Phoenix … she’s dying … a snake bite … both know how poisonous … for her soul … for the Light … as if Tanas’s own blood is in her veins …’

  My thoughts become confused, my mind disorientated, and I no longer want to try to make sense of what they’re saying. The sky above me darkens, the ground ripples, and out of the heat haze an ominous silhouette appears. Small at first, it grows steadily larger. I know I should warn the others, who are still arguing, but my face has gone numb, my tongue loose and heavy, and I can no longer speak. The black shadow relentlessly draws nearer until it looms over me and blocks out the sun entirely …

  The world is plunged into Darkness. Overhead, the sky roils like a turbulent ocean. Seething thunderclouds flash with forked lightning. The air is thick with smoke that stings the eyes and chokes the throat. I stand, cold, alone and shivering, upon a desolate hillside. Next to me is a dead and withered tree, its crooked trunk white as bleached bone. Perched at the end of a splintered leafless branch rests a large black crow, the glinting beads of its eyes watching me. The scorched land that stretches out around the hill is shrouded in permanent shadow, the sun no longer rising, its life-giving rays banished beyond the horizon. In the valley far below I can make out legions of people toiling in the barren ruined earth –

  I splutter and cough as a hot, bitter liquid is poured down my throat. Through a whirl of acrid woodsmoke, a grotesque face with sunken eyes, a hooked beak for a nose and black-and-red feathers sprouting from its crown shifts in and out of focus. The figure mumbles some mystic words and I cry out as a sharp pain stings my leg before it goes numb –

  The crow caws loudly and with a great flap of its dark shiny wings it takes off from the branch. It circles overhead three times, then swoops into the valley. I shudder as it gives another harsh caw, beckoning me. I feel a strange compulsion to follow the clamouring bird down the hill and through the fields of slaves. It leads me to a huge plaza in which thousands of subjects are upon their knees, bowing and praying to an immense statue of a fearsome god with a snarling mouth and snake-like eyes that are as black as pitch.

  Still the eerie crow guides me onwards, through the chanting crowd to a fortress of volcanic rock, its crenellated towers rising up like jagged mountains on either side of me. At the base of a long flight of steps, hideous jaguar-masked guards stand to attention, as rigid and straight as the spiked spears in their hands. Passing uneasily between them, I climb the stairway and enter the fortress –

  The heat is almost unbearable. Bathed in sweat, I feel as if I’m in a furnace. Scalding steam billows around me. Through the pungent clouds of mist, the strange beaked figure reappears and once more speaks in strange tongues. I hear a harsh rattling and flinch away, fearing another snake attack –

  Gliding along a dark corridor, the crow leads me into a cavernous room with a polished stone-clad floor, tall marble columns and a high vaulted ceiling. With a piercing screech, the bird swoops down and alights neatly on the back of a throne shaped like the head of a massive black cobra. Beneath its hooklike fangs reclines an unnaturally long-limbed and cadaverous Tanas, flanked by his black-eyed Soul Hunters. At my approach, a cruel scythe-like smile curls the corners of his thin, pale lips.

  ‘The last of the Light,’ he sneers, stroking a serpent curled in his lap. ‘How dull and diminished it is.’

  ‘You won’t win,’ I say defiantly. ‘I am protected.’

  ‘Oh, but I’ve already won,’ he says, his cold laughter echoing hollowly around the vast throne room. ‘Did you not witness my kingdom? And, as for your protection, that is no more …’ He clicks his fingers and two jaguar-masked guards drag in a limp and broken body.

  ‘Phoenix!’ I cry as they throw him unceremoniously to the floor. He lies there, unmoving, his body scarred by a tapestry of bruises, welts and deep cuts.

  ‘His suffering was a true delight,’ reveals Tanas with relish. ‘I fed off it for many nights.’

  ‘Phoenix!’ I wail again, falling to my knees beside my lifeless Protector.

  Tanas narrows his fathomless eyes and fixes his deathly gaze upon me. ‘And now to destroy you … and the last Light of Humanity for eternity!’

  At his command, his Soul Hunters rise as one and advance on me. Scrambling to my feet, I flee from the fortress as the heavy beat of drums thunders from the battlements –

  The pounding in my head grows louder and my eyes open wide in terror as a tall figure in feathers and furs draped over its inked skin dances round my stiff and aching body. Yelping and hollering, it strikes a hide-covered drum, each thump and thud resounding through me, vibrating within the very marrow of my bones. My whole being resonates with its energy – then the drumming suddenly stops and the figure stands stone-still over me, its eyes gleaming –

  I kneel upon the hill, weeping at the pain and suffering of the enslaved people. Mourning the death of humanity. Grieving for the loss of my Soul Protector and of the Light. With my death, Tanas’s victory will be complete. The world and all that’s beyond the world will be his and his alone. He rules with an iron fist, his power and pleasure derived directly from the agony and torment of his subjects. There is no hope. All is Darkness.

  The Soul Hunters surround the hill and, murmuring an incantation, stealthily ascend towards me. I look around for a way of escape but there is none. Then in the dirt I spot something gleaming. My fingers dig into the barren black earth and I uncover two shards of rock – one smooth, hard and flint-like, the other rough and glittering like gold. Buried beneath them is a small pile of dry tinder. Not much … certainly not enough to make a fire.

  Hearing an ominous flap of wings, I turn to see the creepy crow has returned and settled again on the crooked branch of the dead tree. But its reappearance has given me an idea. Hurrying over, I snap off the end of the brittle branch and with trembling hands break it into pieces of kindling. Then desperately striking rock against rock, I strive to create a spark. Over and over I hit the rocks together until my fingers bleed and my nails are black with bruises.

  I’m almost on the point of giving up when, at last, a spark flies and lands amid the tinder. With a gentle breath, I fan it into a red glow … and then into a tiny faltering flame. The Hunters’ advance falters as the kindling catches light … The flicker of flame grows into a fire and in turn swells into a blaze.

  With a great roar of fury, Tanas bursts from his fortress and commands an icy wind to blow out the Light … But more sparks are born. They float up like tiny stars into the night sky, pushing back the Darkness –

  35

  A shaft of soft sunlight filters through a narrow gap in the canvas doorway. Outside, birds chirrup a dawn chorus, while here inside the sounds are gently muted, as if the world is wrapped in cotton wool. A curl of smoke rises from the ashes of a small fire in the centre of the dome-shaped dwelling in which I find myself. My shelter is built from a sturdy framework of branches tied together and covered in thick animal hide that I recognize from my former Cheyenne life as being a wickiup. A handful of smooth, rounded stones are piled beside the fire and a wooden drum and leather-handled rattle sit near the doorway. The air is tinged with the pungent aroma of herbs and woodsmoke. Through the haze, a mask with a menacing hooked beak and a furious sprouting of black-and-red feathers seems to peer at me.

  Cautiously examining myself, I discover that I’m lying on a diamond-patterned wool rug that’s been placed on the bare ground. My lower left leg is wrapped in long pale green leaves, but I no longer feel any pain. My throbbing headache is gone, the burning fever quenched and the venom in my veins seems purged. My lungs are clear and I breathe freely and easily, as if I’ve been inhaling crisp mountain air. It’s as if my whole body feels cleansed.

  Sitting up, I almost jump out of my skin when I spot a bare-chested, elderly man perched cross-legged in the shadows. His tanned and weathered skin is tattooed with bold lines of blue ink and round his face, which is wrinkled like old shoe leather, his black hair falls in a curtain past his broad shoulders. His earth-brown eyes gaze off unseeing into the far distance. For a moment I wonder whether he’s a wooden totem, then his vacant stare regains focus and he turns to look at me.

  ‘You are healed,’ he declares in a hushed and husky tone.

  I shrink back from him. ‘Wh-who are you?’ I stutter.

  He raises a thick bushy eyebrow. ‘The question is, who are you?’

  ‘Genna,’ I reply.

  He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t ask you your name, for that can change,’ he says. ‘In this life alone, I’ve been known by many names: Hobelia, Cairook, Black Crow … You can call me John if you wish, though I do prefer my present Mojave name, Empote. No, Genna, I asked you to tell me who you are.’

  His brown eyes lock with mine and he peers directly into me as if searching my soul. Returning his unwavering gaze, I notice an indigo hue ebb and flow in his irises, like the waves of the deepest and purest ocean. Whoever this man is, he appears to be a Soul Brother of the rarest sort.

  ‘I’m a First Ascendant,’ I reply, trusting my instincts to be open with him. ‘Born of the Light and a Soul Carrier of the Light.’

  ‘That you are,’ Empote says, nodding. ‘Yet you are so much more. For it’s my humble belief that you are the one spoken of in the Soul Prophecy.’

  ‘The what?’ I ask, confused.

  ‘The Soul Prophecy,’ he repeats. ‘There have been many versions in many languages over the many lives lived, but they all tell the same story …’ In a reverential tone, he then says, as if he’s reciting some ancient truth:

  ‘For each Soul born of the Light shall carry their burden bright;

  But like day follows night, so shall night follow day.

  The Darkness that once was will be once again,

  For it’s the Light that casts a shadow and the Shadow that casts out the Light.

  With every Soul extinguished or swallowed by the Dark,

  The Incarnate Lord steps closer to fulfilling his cruel cold heart.

  But one Soul shines brighter and bolder than the rest;

  This one must ignite the spark when put to the Darkest test.’

  ‘What is that? What are you talking about?’ I ask, bewildered.

  Breaking off from his intense gaze, Empote picks up a slender smoking pipe with a funnel, packs it with shredded brown leaves and lights its tip. He blows out and a cloud of rich tobacco smoke drifts through the air. ‘Your vision,’ he replies.

  I flinch in shock. ‘You saw what I saw? Are you a Soul Seer?’

  He gently shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t have the sight. I’m – for want of a better term – a Soul Healer.’

  I glance down at my leg. ‘My snake bite … you healed it?’

  Sucking on his pipe, he nods. ‘To tell you the truth, it was a close call. By the time I reached you and your friends, you were on the border between this life and the next. The venom had almost run its course; its poison had started to weaken and pollute your very soul. But, sensing you had more to give this life, I drew you back.’

  Tentatively I peel off the leaves wrapped round my leg and discover that the swelling and redness has gone. Even the puncture wounds have miraculously healed.

  ‘The poultice of plantain leaves reduced the swelling and acted as an antitoxin,’ Empote explains matter-of-factly. He points to the pile of rounded stones by the fire. ‘The sweat bath helped purge you of the snake’s venom.’ He then directs my gaze to a clump of dried herbs hanging above his head: ‘The burning of wild sage and the inhalation of its smoke purified your body and soul. The drumming and my chants drove away any malignant spirits that were attached to you. Lastly and mostly importantly, the bitter tea you drank contained black cohosh. This sacred herb not only neutralizes the venom, it induces visions and a trance state.’