Fury's Goddess

by Alex Archer

  “I’ll try to remember to feel honored as you’re killing me,” Frank said sardonically. “Gee, thanks.”

  Dunraj studied his rumal, toying with one end. “Don’t spoil my goodwill, Frank. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”

  “You’re going to kill us, anyway,” Annja said. “How could it possibly get worse?”

  “I can determine how long you suffer before you finally give your miserable lives to Kali. And I can be very creative in the prolonging of pain and agony when I make cuts with the knife.” He smiled. “Tomorrow, you will die in front of Kali.”

  Chapter 15

  Annja and Frank were taken back to the cavern where they’d first woken up. Once there, the thug who led them down to see Dunraj left them alone. On the floor of the cavern were small bowls of water.

  With their hands tied behind their backs, they had no choice but to work out a way to drink the water. First Annja squatted and used her fingers to grab one of the bowls, which she had to hold at the small of her back. Frank had to stoop forward and drink out of that. They then repeated the process so Annja could get a drink, as well.

  By the time they were finished, both of them were worn-out from all the maneuvering and sat on the floor.

  “We can’t stay here,” Annja said. “I don’t relish the idea of waiting for an ax to drop on my head.”

  “Might be lucky if it was an ax,” Frank said. “At least that way, it would be quick. Dunraj seems intent on carving us up bit by bit. That doesn’t sound like a very fun way to go.”

  “You should have stayed quiet,” she said. “I might have gotten him to let you go.”

  “I doubt that. And no offense or anything, but your plan to negotiate my release kinda sucked.”

  Annja stretched a kink in her back as best she could. “Yeah, well, I don’t hear any great plans coming out of your mouth.”

  “That’s because you never asked me.”

  “I’m asking now.”

  Frank took a breath, started to say something and then exhaled in a rush. “Oh, hell, I don’t have a clue what to do. I’ve never been kidnapped before. And I’ve certainly never been considered a decent sacrifice for anything, much less some goddess like the one they worship here.”

  “Kali.”

  “Right, yeah, Kali. Great. So, what’s up this chick’s butt that she has to be appeased with sacrifice?”

  “Kali was the consort of Shiva, the god of destruction. There was a terrible battle—one of several Kali was involved in—and the killing grew so intense that she went into something of a berserk rage, slashing her way through thousands of demons and enemies on the battlefield. Bloodlust. Eventually, she was calmed down by Shiva, but not before she engaged in an awful lot of killing.”

  “And ever since her worshippers have sacrificed people to her?”

  Annja stretched her fingers, which were numb because of the binding. “Most followers of Kali are not Thuggee. But from what I know about Thuggee, almost all of them worship Kali. It’s the blood-and-murder thing. Thuggee use Kali as a way of justifying their acts and crimes.”

  “Yeah, but Dunraj seems to be actively looking to kill just to show his reverence for her.”

  Annja agreed. “I know. And that’s the problem.”

  “Way I see it…us dying is a big problem.”

  Annja smiled. “We’re not dead just yet.”

  “Yeah, but our hands are tied and we’re in some extensive network of caves.” Frank sighed. “I mean, even if we just walked out of here, would you have any idea where to go?”

  “Not really.” She could rely on her instincts, of course, but she wouldn’t tell Frank that. If it worked out that way, she would call it blind luck rather than the fact that her intuition was sharper thanks to the sword.

  “So, what now?”

  Annja took a breath. “We’re in a cage with no bars. Our hands are tied, however, and we’ve got to take care of that as soon as possible. I don’t want to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary.”

  “You won’t get any complaints from me.” Frank looked around the cavern. “It amazes me how well I’m able to see now…even though we’re in the dark.”

  Annja shook her head. “There’s ambient light coming from somewhere.”

  Frank looked at her. “Okay. So, how do we get these bindings off? I’m not even sure I can feel my hands anymore. If we don’t get free soon, I’m going to develop gangrene.”

  Annja stood and backed into the nearest wall. The rock was exceedingly smooth, as if it had been worn down by water over hundreds of years.

  That wouldn’t help them.

  Annja glanced at Frank. “Stand up and try running your hands over parts of the walls. If we can find an outcropping of sharp rock, we might be able to get these bindings off.”

  “That’s your plan?”

  “Like I said earlier, if you’ve got a better idea, then feel free to unload it on me. If you’ve found a way to build some sort of teleportation machine that can just zap us out of here, I’m all ears.”

  “You don’t have to be sarcastic.”

  “No, but I do need to get through that thick head of yours that we need to get going on our escape. I don’t want tomorrow coming and we’re still sitting here like sheep before the slaughter.”

  “All right,” Frank said. He scrambled to his feet and started moving around the cavern.

  Annja did the same, running the tips of her fingers over the rocks. But everything felt smooth to the touch and finding something that could cut seemed almost an impossible idea.

  “Ouch.”

  Annja looked over at Frank. “What?”

  “I just cut my finger.”

  “On what?”

  “This rock.”

  Annja moved over to him. “Which one?”

  “Turn around and run your hand over this part…right…here.”

  Annja felt a surge of joy as pain lanced through her hand. “Yes. I think that will work just fine.”

  Frank took a breath. “All right, move over and let me in there to get these things cut off my hands. I really think I’m in bad shape.”

  Annja frowned. “If your hands were that bad, then you wouldn’t have felt pain when you brushed against the rocks.”

  “Says you.” Frank started sawing his wrists against the rock. “I can tell you that this is worse than any pins-and-needles thing I’ve ever felt. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hold anything again.”

  “Drama queen.”

  He continued sawing. “Once I get free, I’ll help you.”

  “How are you going to help me untie knots when your hands are about to fall off?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Just get it done,” Annja said. “We don’t know how much time we have left. One of those guys could come back at any time and find out what you’re doing.”

  “So keep watch at the opening there and warn me if anyone’s coming.”

  Annja nodded and squatted near the entrance of their makeshift cell. In the darkness she couldn’t see farther than about eight feet. But now and then the air currents would change, and she would imagine it was caused by someone moving in the maze of caves and caverns.

  That was the other big question: Once they got free, how would they find their way out of this place?

  True, Annja could bring the sword out and hold it aloft for some illumination, and yes, she could always rely on her instincts to help steer her out, but that wasn’t guaranteed. She’d probably have to find Dunraj and force him to lead them out.

  Then they’d have to find their way back down the mountain to town. So they could call Pradesh.

  It wasn’t much of a plan.

  “Dammit.”

  Annja glanced back. “What’s the problem, Frank?”

  “The rock just broke off.”

  “What?”

  “I was sawing too hard on it, I think. The damned thing came loose and just fell away.”

  Now what
were they going to use to cut the bindings?

  Frank walked over. “I got some of it cut but I don’t think it’s enough to break through the ropes.”

  Annja sighed. “Sit here and let me know if anyone’s coming. I’ll try to find another rock we can use.”

  “Okay.”

  Annja backed against the walls. She moved all over the cave and was about to give up when she felt something sharp lance her wrist.

  Yes.

  But again, the sharp piece of rock was small and fragile. The trick would be knowing how much pressure to exert without breaking the rock off.

  It would need to be a delicate operation.

  She started sawing the ropes. At first, the rock seemed to be too dull, but then Annja felt something starting to happen. She resisted the urge to push harder. As it was, the edge was barely half an inch long.

  This was going to take a while.

  “Did you find something?”

  Annja nodded. “Yeah, but it’s really small. You’re going to be on guard duty for a while, pal.”

  “Just so long as you get free.”

  Annja resumed her sawing motion and prayed that she had enough time. Her future and Frank’s rested on whether or not she was able to get these ropes cut.

  She hadn’t told Frank about how much her own hands hurt from the tightness of the bindings. Better to try to set a strong example for him to follow. If she wasn’t scared, she hoped he wouldn’t be, either.

  Although she knew that wasn’t likely to hold true for long, especially if it took them much longer to get free.

  She pushed a little harder on the rock, trying to keep the sawing action constant and the friction as intense as possible. But moving her hands when they were tied behind her back was awkward and tiring.

  Sweat ran down her face as she gritted her teeth and kept the sawing action up. Just a little bit more, she kept telling herself. Just keep going.

  “How you doing?”

  “Frank, do me a favor?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop asking me that.”

  “All right. Sorry.”

  Annja felt something give. One of the ropes was cut through. Her pulse quickened. She was one step closer to being free.

  She leaned in on the rock to position the next rope.

  And then the rock broke.

  Chapter 16

  “And you told me I was doing it wrong,” Frank said dejectedly.

  Annja slid down the cave wall and sat on her butt. The rock had cut through one of the bindings. Would she be able to break the other?

  Annja got on to her haunches and flexed her wrists. The bindings were tight, that was certain. And they’d somehow been tied in such a way that the rope snaked through itself several times over. No doubt so it couldn’t be compromised as easily as simply sawing through it.

  Annja concentrated on the sword in her mind, tried to visualize it flooding her body with strength. But each time she tried, the image wavered and Annja sank back down, exhausted.

  “It’s no use, the ropes are too tight.”

  Frank eyed her. “You thought you were going to be able to break out of those things?”

  “Worth a shot.”

  Frank chuckled. “No offense, Annja, but you’re not exactly the type who can rip telephone books in half.”

  Annja raised an eyebrow. “You’d probably be surprised at what I can do, Frank.”

  “Well, perhaps I’m smart enough to know that brute strength isn’t going to win us the day here. What we need is something a little more subtle.”

  “What we need,” she said, “is help from someone who can get these damned ropes off us.”

  “That would be another choice.” He shook his head. “Of course, the odds of that happening in here are slim.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t suppose you have your cell phone still?”

  Annja eyed him. “I’ve got nothing. They took it all when we were kidnapped. No way they’d leave us something like that.”

  “Yeah, just thought I’d ask.”

  Annja took a breath and exhaled it. She was tired and hungry. That was why her strength was so shot. Any other time and she felt sure she’d be able to snap those restraints and be on her way to Dunraj.

  But now?

  She wanted to sleep. Her eyelids felt heavy. And her muscles seemed lethargic.

  “Frank.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You sleepy?”

  “Very. I was just trying to get some shut-eye when you woke me up.”

  “Why are we so tired all of a sudden?”

  “I don’t—” Frank stopped. “The water we drank. What do you want to bet they drugged it somehow?”

  Annja remembered the taste but it had only registered as slightly earthy, no doubt from the bowl they’d drunk out of. And that was it. They’d been so focused on getting any water into them at all, what with having to work so hard, they’d paid no attention to the actual taste or consistency of the water.

  “Annja, I’m passing out here.”

  “Frank! Stay with me!” But even as she said it, Annja felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. I’ve got one chance to stay reasonably conscious, she thought.

  In her mind’s eye, Annja saw the sword hanging there with its grayish glow illuminating everything around her. Except now, black edged the gray light.

  Annja drew herself closer to the sword. As long as she felt herself surrounded by the gray light, she thought she’d be safe from the effects of the drugs. But it was difficult maintaining that discipline. The blackness drew her to its warmth, to the idea of closing her eyes and forgetting the pain in her hands, the stiffness in her back.

  And where she was.

  Annja bit her lip, the one that had been split when Dunraj slapped her, drawing new blood. The pain. She had to embrace it to keep her mind focused.

  Annja flexed her wrists and instantly felt the pain return. It seemed to pierce the blackness, making it retreat in her mind’s eye. Annja kept flexing even as she started sweating uncontrollably.

  Keep going, she thought. Keep embracing that pain. She bent her elbows up and down, forcing herself to focus on the agony of the movement.

  She moaned now as the pain raced up and down her arms. She twisted, getting her hands underneath her buttocks so she was almost sitting on her wrists. An explosion of fire rocketed through her body.

  The sweat now soaked through her shirt and pants. It felt as if she’d somehow managed to open up a floodgate.

  She kept twisting on the floor of the cave, and more pain shot through her limbs. Annja cried out but knew her cries would fall on deaf ears. Frank was already unconscious. And he wouldn’t be back until the poison worked its way through his system.

  If it did.

  Was this how they initiated each sacrifice? Take their prisoners here and drug them to make them compliant and unable to mount a defense when the time came to be murdered? How many others had they killed before the development murders made the news?

  Annja bit her tongue. Tasted blood. Her wrists throbbed. Annja was soaked in sweat.

  Her breathing came rapidly. She was on the verge of hyperventilating. If she wasn’t careful, she’d pass out.

  But Annja kept going, she kept racing toward that one inevitability, toward that one overwhelming thought: pain would flush the poison.

  She rolled along the ground, bumping into the cave walls and into Frank’s inert body. She felt her wrists bend and pop and spasm and scream as she defied the very limits of what she thought was her breaking point.

  Annja went through it.

  And kept going.

  She was aware of the sounds in her mind that seemed like voices melted together on the sidewalk in a hot summer sun. The miasma of screams and cries and shouts of pain. But who were they? Were they the victims of the Thuggee from hundreds of years in the past?

  Had they all converged on this spot right now? Could they smell the desperation and will to
live in Annja? Had they heard her pleas into the afterlife and were now here to help her?

  The voices continued to moan and screech and cry out, and Annja kept struggling on the floor of the cave. She was so tired. But she knew that the only way to survive was to keep going until she had nothing left to give.

  Another volley of voices crashed down on her, stretching her awareness and twisting her perceptions and making her feel as if her reality was being pierced and shattered by the spirit world.

  More pain enveloped her body now. She spasmed once and then went into a seizure, convulsing on the floor of the cave. Her hands underneath her were taking the full weight of her body on the delicate joints.

  But Annja no longer cared.

  She only knew one reality in that cave, and as sweat and pain caught her body up in its throes, she kept convulsing, sweating, crying out.

  The noise.

  It wasn’t the dead.

  It was her.

  Annja was screaming.

  Her cries echoed off the cave walls and came back magnified a hundred times. There was no escape from it. She was losing the battle to break the hold of the drug coursing through her veins.

  Even the pain was lessening now.

  Dying.

  Annja.

  And then she went still.

  A hush fell over the cave like a blanket thrown over the body of someone sleeping.

  When her eyelids fluttered a few moments later, it took her a long moment to figure out where she was.

  And then it came back to her.

  The cave.

  Dunraj.

  She rolled over and looked at Frank. His breathing seemed regular. But he hadn’t been able to fight off the drug, and it had him firmly in its grasp.

  Annja sat up, aware that her clothes were fairly soaked in sweat.

  The pain in her body was far less now, but still present.

  Did I break my wrists? Annja flexed them and was rewarded by a twinge of pain. Not broken, she surmised. Still tied, though.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled it. Her senses seemed fine and not dulled at all. At least I can still function if I need to.