Chapter 12

So, what happens next? And am I still boring? I made an extra long chapter, 30 percent more text!

I didn't intend to have a cliff hanger, I guess it is just unintended suspense to me. I have trouble finding them in books, unless they're glaringly obvious.

So just read on, and sorry it takes me so long to write. It takes a day to think up the next chapter, and a couple more hours to have it typed out. Because I have a main idea, but I make the plot to it as I go along.

Chapter 12

A Pleasant Train Ride

We rode to a cemetery…I think the sign said "Cemetière de Caen", but we were moving too fast and bumping up and down, so I wasn't so sure. We stopped and I was jolted forward, into Lin. I noticed that were in front of a field…planted with lots of white flowers in neat row. But they weren't flowers. They were white crosses…this was the graveyard, the cemetery whose…residents Lin wanted to raise.

Lin swung herself off the saddle with ease, even with her heavy black armor on. She pulled the black helmet off, tucking it in the crook of her arm. I followed. We passed the cemetery gate and Lin stopped. She looked back, at me. "It would be better if you stayed back. I don't know what will happen, but it could be bad."

So I waited behind the gate, peering over to watch Lin. She dropped her helmet on the ground and got to her knees. She pulled her curved sword out from the scabbard on her back, and began to cut. Soon, thin streams of blood dripped down her arms, turning the bright green grass a shining scarlet. She closed her eyes, bowing her head, whispering things in a voice too low for me to hear.

The ground started to rumble, and some of the white grave markers toppled over. A skeletal hand punched up through the grass. I stepped back, back to the dappled grey knight's horse, back to, I hoped, relative safety. More and more skeletal limbs started to punch through the soil, dragging themselves up.

The first one out had a helmet and a rotten uniform. It bowed to Lin. It's jaws moved, making a clacking sound. "We obey, mistress. What is your wish?"

"I want you to follow me. There is an army of monsters that need to be vanquished." Lin declared imperiously. She picked up her forgotten sword and gripped it tightly. "You will need to follow me and my brother. Do not molest the mortals on the way; your goal is to defeat the monsters."

She turned back to me, the skeletons following submissively. More of the skeletons started to pull themselves from the ground. Some of the ones already up turned to help their comrades.

Lin passed the gate, her arms still dripping blood. She looked down, realizing, and closed her eyes tightly, muttering yet another incantation. The wound started to stitch together slowly, then faster and faster, until all that was left were some silver lines crisscrossing her arms. Those too, started to fade away, until there was only Lin's unblemished skin.

Lin mounted the grey horse, still in its gaudy trappings from a medieval fair that we had visited earlier. The knight, Sir Roger, had given Lin his lance. Lin picked it up, hefting its weight. "This is a bit too heavy…but it'll do." She remarked. She turned to the skeleton soldiers, beckoning them with the lance. Their feet rapped on the ground, forming ranks.

I mounted after Lin, and she kicked the horse's flanks, driving it to a quick trot. The skeletons were arranging themselves into neat rows, and some of them had rusty guns perched on their shoulders. One of them held a rotted pennant, with several large gaping holes.

Lin and I rode, and I don't know how long, and Lin's head turned left and right. It looked like she was smelling for something, like a dog. Lin's nose wrinkled in disgust, and then she turned the horse. "The monsters are gathering…even I can smell their stench, their numbers are so big. They seem to be heading for the cities, where they can wreak the most havoc. To Caen, the largest city in Normandy."

We rode, the skeletons following behind. The skeletons seemed to be singing a marching song, but it sounded creepy, with their unearthly wails and clacking jaws. We passed some people in cars, who looked curiously at us. There was a child in the back seat of a silver car, and I waved at him. His round eyes widened, and he tapped the shoulder of his mother, who ignored him.

We rode to the city, the busy seaport of town of Caen. It was the grave site of William the Conqueror, I knew. I'd read it in European history. Things started to get chaotic as people noticed the kids on horses. I think, to them, the skeleton warriors looked like soldiers to the mortals. But luckily, Cassile's charm that she had put on me in that alleyway in New York so many days ago, still worked. I could see monsters, but their forms were wavering, unless I concentrated.

Lin nudged the grey horse faster, and we were charging down the streets. She looked like a knight, with her lance out in front of her, her armor shining in the sun, and the horse with its colorful draperies. Lin pulled the reins, and the horse reared, almost throwing me off. For in front of us, was a milling crowd of monsters. Hellhounds, I could see, and some valkyries bent on destruction. Several snake women, and the cricket man, Tithonus. How did they get here so fast?

The mortals didn't seem to notice anything unusual; when ever they seemed about to bump into a monster, they just walked around. They were left with puzzled expressions, but they went on, ignorant. But Lin and I weren't monsters. The people could see us, on the horse in the middle of the sidewalk. Some began to circle and gawk at us.

We were getting attention, and the monsters' eyes followed the crowd, to the girl on the horse with a lance, dressed up as a knight. They charged, through the middle of the busy street, causing a bus to swerve off its course. Cars bashed into lamp posts and other cars; a pedestrian was hit. The mortal drivers could sense something was wrong, but they couldn't tell what.

Lin screamed, a shrill sound that pierced the confusion. She held her lance aloft, and the horse reared. The skeletal soldiers ran past us, their bones clacking on the asphalt, their antique guns shooting ghostly rounds at the monsters. Lin and I rode at the front of the melee, her lance held out. She knocked monsters over like pins at the bowling alley, making them easy targets for the skeletons.

But we charged through the ranks, to the end. And there was a tiger, growling, its claws out for battle. The horse turned at the last minute, slowing down. The tiger's paw struck out, ripping the fabric covering. I saw that the tiger wasn't really a tiger.

Lin backed the horse up. "It's a rakshasa…I didn't know that they'd come up this north…the northernmost they'd go is Nice…this must be an extreme circumstance…It's a tiger and sorcerer!" She turned the horse, pushing it to a gallop, nearly making me bite my tongue off.

The tiger was creepy. It was a turbaned face with brown skin and a white beard that was melded neatly to the tiger. It was strange looking, and the way that there were so many human and animal hybrids was one disturbing thing about Greek myths.

The tiger was chasing us. Lin was trying to avoid the cars, getting squashed wouldn't help the cause. The horns of the cars blared, and Lin stopped the horse suddenly so many times that I thought I'd fall off. The rakshasa was leaping over cars, leaving dents on the tops. The mortal drivers heard a thump, and felt the dents, but they couldn't see anything but a swift moving orange and black blur.

The horse ran and ran, until foam started to drip from its mouth; sweat soaked the cloth blanket on its back. We were at a railway station, the Metro. These were the arteries of France, bringing in travelers and commuters for a cheap fee. Lin and I dismounted, leaving the horse gasping and wheezing. Lin dropped the lance, leaving it on the ground with a loud clatter.

I heard the loud whinny and growls…I turned away. Lin and I started to run to the trains, but we were stopped by a ticket man. "Ticket please? You must have a ticket to pass this point."

Lin tried to push past him, but he gently but firmly pushed her away. I fumbled in my pocket for some euro bills, which I slapped into his palm. I snatched some tickets from his hands, and we ran. I could hear the rakshasa behind us, growling. It jumped over the ticket salesman, to us.

Lin pushed me forwards. "Just go, Alex! Take the train! I'll try and hold this monster off!" I ran without a second thought, without looking back. I never thought that this might be the last time my sister ever spoke to me.

I got on the train, handing my ticket to the conductor. I got a seat near a window, because it was the only one left. I hoped the monster couldn't and wouldn't see me, come after me, and kill me in my sleep. Gods, I was really hyperventilating, and the adrenaline was rushing through my system, making my fingers twitch and shake.

I heard a thump as the train was taking off. The top of the train had a dent – a large round one. The train sped on, faster and faster. I looked out the window, trying to distract myself from my nerves and my thoughts of Lin. I saw feet with black shoes and ankle chains, sliding down. There was a roar outside. I craned my neck trying to see.

Nobody looked up or payed attention to what was happening. The stupid mortals were oblivious to what danger they were in. The rakshasa was on the roof!

The feet slid down, but there was a punching sound, and a black metal stick was thrust through the roof. The legs started to disappear, get pulled back up. The stick was pulled back out, leaving a hole.

There were snarls and shrieks from outside, and some of Lin's cries. Thumping was heard, and I could see a foot slip off the side of the train, but was quickly retracted. The thumping seemed to move…they must be footsteps, and that meant that someone was moving on the tops of the carriages.

"Next stop – Le Havre!" the conductor cried. He went back to reading his newspaper, ignorant of the fight that was going on the roof.

The train started to slow down with a high pitched shrieking sound. Before the doors were fully opened, I ran out, to the platform, looking up, and hoping for the best.

Lin was lying on her back on the top of the carriage, the rakshasa pinning her down. From somewhere, she pulled a short dagger, and jabbed it in the rakshasa's face. It was Alexander Jackson's fish hilt dagger. The rakshasa's head bobbed back a bit, clawing at its face. But then its attention went back to Lin, and it pounced. That was when Lin threw herself off the train, landing on the brick platform floor with a thud and a crack. Her sword rattled down after her.

I gaped at her open mouthed with horror, but I couldn't do anything without attracting the rakshasa's attention. It jumped off neatly, landing silently, like the great cat it was. It stalked forward.

Lin tried to reach for her sword, but it had fallen four feet away. She was reaching with her left hand, which wasn't her sword hand. Lin normally fought with her right hand, and I saw that she couldn't move it. So that was what that crack was; her arm was broken in the fall.

The rakshasa padded forward. The turbaned head grinned at her, black lips pulling back to reveal two rows of sharp, filed teeth. Lin shrunk back, but she was on the ground, and her arm was broken. The rakshasa would pounce if she tried to make a sudden move.

The rakshasa raised a paw, and a single claw popped out of the black pad. It smiled menacingly, an evil look in its eyes. The paw lowered, to Lin's neck. As it was about to make the final stroke, the killing cut, a blade whistled out of the air.

The rakshasa's head fell off, dropping from his shoulders to the bricked floor. It turned to sand, which the wind blew away, leaving five claws rolling on the ground. The claws stopped moving. Who had killed the tiger man? I turned, and my eyes widened with shock.

It was Alexander Jackson, looking rather proud of himself, leaning against his sword like a Southern gentleman on his cane. I asked myself, what was he doing here?

Author's Note: Mr. Jackson? What is he doing here? An explanation is in the next chapter, because I've planned it out that far. I wonder how much action you have to put in a story before people stop calling you boring? Because I have some hidden ammunition somewhere, hidden for a rainy day…

So just keep reviewing, and everything will be okay.