Rogue Angel 46: Treasure of Lima Read Online Free Page A

broken free from the roof of the tunnel.
    Aware that another tremor could strike at any second, Annja mimed to Manuel that she was going to try to move the stone. It was too big to lift, but she thought she might be able to roll it away. She got down next to it, put her shoulder against the stone and, using her legs for power, pushed as hard as she could.
    It didn’t budge.
    She glanced at Manuel, saw him trying to wave her off. Through a series of hand signals, he told her to head for the surface and leave him behind, but she shook her head, ignoring his request. There was no way she was going to abandon him, not while they still had plenty of air and she was physically capable of making the effort.
    Annja backed away and eyed the stalactite. She had been trying to push it backward, but saw now that it was wedged up against several other rocks that had been shaken loose by the quake. If she reversed direction, perhaps she could create some leverage beneath it and roll it forward instead.
    She swam around the side of the stone and found a suitable spot that was partially hidden from Manuel’s view. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be able to see exactly what she was doing, she mentally reached into the otherwhere and drew forth her sword. It slid smoothly into existence, appearing at the speed of thought, fully formed and ready for use. The hilt fit her hand like a glove and at times Annja thought it had been made for her and her alone, despite her knowledge of the blade’s history.
    The broadsword had once belonged to Joan of Arc. It was plain and unadorned, the kind of blade that was barely worth a second glance from those who admired such things. But the reality of the situation was quite different. This sword was something special.
    It had been broken on the morning of Joan’s execution, shattered into dozens of pieces by a savage downward blow from the booted foot of the English commander in charge of her execution. Hundreds of years later, when all of the pieces had been brought back together for the first time, the sword mystically re-formed in a flash of light and bonded itself to its new bearer. When Annja wasn’t using it, the sword dematerialized, existing as a thought in some in-between place she’d come to call the otherwhere. She could summon it at a moment’s notice, simply by willing it into her hand, and could release it in similar fashion. After all this time she still wasn’t sure why the blade had chosen her to be its bearer, but it had become such a part of her life that she couldn’t imagine what things would be like without it.
    Right now, she was going to use that sword to help save Manuel’s life.
    Annja wedged the blade deep between the stalactite and one of the rocks behind it, wiggling it around to get it as deep as possible. When she was satisfied, she put her hands on the hilt and pushed down with all she had.
    The tempered steel of the blade bent slightly, but not so much that Annja was worried about it breaking. She began to apply more pressure, forcing the blade downward, hoping that it would be enough.
    She felt the stalactite shift slightly.
    Got you! she thought and then really leaned into it, forcing all of her body weight down onto that point of the system.
    The stone rocked once, twice and then rolled off Manuel’s leg as if it had never been trapped in the first place.
    Annja wanted to shout for joy.
    That was when her internal alarm bells went off for the second time that day.
    This time, she didn’t stop to think. She didn’t stop to analyze the consequences or the possible repercussions of her actions; she just moved, throwing herself bodily over Manuel’s injured form as she released her sword back into the otherwhere. She landed across him just as the ground beneath them began to buck and shake, tossing them about in a terrifying reminder of Mother Nature’s strength and her casual indifferences to the creatures that called her home. Annja gripped Manuel tightly, not