49: The Gauntlet
Even Rogan – an annoying optimist at best, a hyperactive one at worst – was ready to join the suicidal club. “I’m sorry, team, this is all my fault,” she said, “I shouldn’t have brought us here. You’re all right, we’re not cut out for this,”
At least Armstrong was unaffected, his look of frantic confusion telling Lyra he wasn’t about to jump of the bandwagon. “The hell’s with you guys?” he said, “Oi, Byrne, if you’re gonna give up then I know something’s wrong!”
Lyra scrunched her face in concentration and tried block out the whining of her companions and gentle flow of water. There was a whisper in the breeze, like a subliminal voice reaching out to her, telling her to turn away, that she wasn’t worthy of being a daughter of Gaia, that she could have been so much more…
“What’s going on?” said Ritches, cutting Lyra out of the trance. Around her, everyone bar the cat-loving photographer and Armstrong was afflicted by the angst: Joel had fallen to his knees, Kaori, Phoenie and Andromeda were slouched against the cave walls, and John was breathing heavily.
“Man, I haven’t seen anyone act like this since that warehouse,” said Armstrong, “You remember, right Kat?”
“The leansídhe!” she said, camera coming to life and clicking in every direction.
“Yeah, that thing…Whatever that was…”
‘Leansídhe’ – that was the name the geeks had given the thing Shimomura and Gibson had once sold their life too. The thing the shaman summoned.
And yet there was nothing Lyra could do. She was a failure – a lonely, abandoned failure.
Armstrong was suddenly standing in front of her, shaking her hard. “Dammit, Byrne, don’t you get caught up in this shit too! If it’s some kinda faerie-witch thing then you oughta do something about it, ’cause I’m sure as hell outta ideas,”
Lyra pushed away the voices and tried to focus on the task at hand. She needed something that could break the psychic hold the leech had over them. Something to shut out the voices. She waded through the water and hoisted herself up onto the rocky shore, then shook Shimomura rigorously.
“Kao! Get a fecking grip of yerself!”
What the hell, it was something she’d been wanting to do for a long time anyway. She drew back her pale hand and slapped as hard as she could across Shimomura’s face.
“Wake up!”
Shimomura blinked away tears. “L-Lyra…what’s…?”
“Get ye fecking flute out and start playing a fecking song already!”
“What?”
“JUST DO IT!”
Lyra kept her hand ready in case another slap was needed, but the threat was enough: Shimomura reached into her cloak and took out the flute she’d brought with her. With any luck, it was an enchanted instrument designed for audiomancers, but even a plain old flute could be enough.
“I’m not sure if I can…”
“PLAY!”
