‘No, my Lady!’ Wareeshta pleaded, reaching out to stop her. ‘You know you need her.’
Kara felt the lethal pressure on her throat as L’Ordana pressed harder. The Valkyrie knew, if provoked further, the Sorceress would drive the nail into her artery. Still, she remained staunch, refusing to give in to her mistress’s threat.
‘I beg you!’ Wareeshta persisted.
The Sorceress wavered, contemplating it, before releasing her hand, leaving the deep indentation of her nail behind. She turned away, repelled by the Valkyrie. It was clear there was no love lost between the two. Wareeshta was aware of the familiar pattern between them; it had always been that way. They fight, releasing hidden tensions, then return to the order of duty.
Soon, the atmosphere in the chamber gradually subsided. L’Ordana kept her back to her aids, her thoughts filled with ambition yet were fused by uncertainty. Her eyes blinked continuously in thought as she chewed on her lip. Composing herself, she turned to address the two faces scrutinising her from behind. She paused, glancing at the rug they stood on. Wareeshta followed her look, with interest.
‘Come with me,’ she insisted. ‘It is time.’
L’Ordana drew back the large, ornate rug with a sweeping gesture of her hand. As it retreated—on her command—Kara and Wareeshta stepped aside, intrigued, its graceful movement holding their fascination. For all the occasions she had been in her mistress’s chamber, Wareeshta considered why she had failed to notice its hidden purpose. Why would she? It was never brought to her attention, until now. A single glance at Kara told her she, too, was oblivious to its secret.
There, beneath its splendour, a grey, paved stone floor looked up at them. There was nothing unusual about it; the citadel was layered with them. The Sorceress approached it and raised her hand. Then, in a forward motion, she extended her arm, silently commanding the floor back, without touching it.
Kara and Wareeshta eyed one another as the floor grinded away from them, its low crumbling sound announcing its opening. Slowly it inched back, until it could go no further.
Equally curious, the two stepped forward and looked down into the darkness, as it peered up into their eager faces, waiting to invite them into its hold.
‘Follow me,’ L’Ordana beckoned, making her descent.
The steps gave the illusion of reaching out into the unknown, then leading them down to a passageway—sufficient for them to walk side by side. The walls were lined with large, brass torches, clinging to their sturdy iron brackets, igniting, one by one, as the Sorceress came into their presence. It was at this point, Wareeshta became aware of the extent of her mistress’s hidden powers.
‘Where are you taking us?’ Kara enquired, reluctant to proceed.
‘I want to show you something,’ said L’Ordana.
‘A trap?’ she sneered.
‘How very tempting,’ she muttered, turning her head to acknowledge the Valkyrie’s comment. ‘But, alas! No. My priorities lie elsewhere. Now, take one!’
Following her order, they each removed a torch, before watching their mistress fade from view into a steep decline—the deep steps proving treacherous and slippery. With every tread, the stench of dampness rose up to meet them. Wareeshta recoiled from its potency, her senses heightened by the unfamiliar territory.
The Sorceress stopped at the base of the steps and raised her torch, displaying the space in front of them—spreading wide into a large cavern. Kara extended her light towards its centre, illuminating the mirrored surface of an underground lake. Tiny embers from the flame ignited as they fell to the water. She looked up, straining to see the opposite side.
‘Thirteen down—thirteen up,’ L’Ordana stated, when the set of steps came into view.
‘Why thirteen?’ asked Wareeshta.
‘Why not?’ she replied, lifting her shoulders. ‘It seems fitting; this citadel reeks of bad luck.’
‘What is up there?’ Kara questioned, pointing her torch.
‘The way we came down, mirrors the way we shall go up.’
Her two aids stared at her.
‘But first, we must cross this lake.’
‘You make it sound like a difficult task,’ said Kara, in her derisive tone.
L’Ordana returned a scathing smile at the Valkyrie. ‘I beseech you to try.’
The Valkyrie’s tapered eyes regarded her mistress with suspicion.
‘Be wary, Kara, for this lake is poisonous,’ she returned, extending her arm. ‘See!’
The Sorceress lowered her torch, as close as she dared, tapping it gently. Blue, toxic flames spurted up as the falling large embers touched the surface. They stepped back, avoiding potential contact—the strong smell of sulphur filling their nostrils.
‘Cast your flame into this lake,’ she warned, ‘and we will not live to see another day.’
Handing her torch to Wareeshta, the Sorceress stepped forward, away from the inquisitive aids, her feet within inches of the deadly lake. Closing her eyes, she stretched out her hands—both palms facing the low, flat roof.
‘Rise!’ she commanded, her voice echoing throughout the dank cavern.
Quivering ripples of water fanned out in pursuit of the other, growing larger as they raced to the edge. The water continued to surge, pushed up by what was concealed beneath. What appeared to be a stone-cobbled footbridge, emerged into view, rising no more than a foot above the surface. It stopped, without order, water continuously flowing down its slimy sides, eventually subsiding into droplets.
‘We must wait for the water to calm itself before proceeding,’ she warned them.
Kara noticed three sizable rats scurrying along a ledge, away from the threatening lake. She thought it strange; how few there were. ‘Surely in this miserable place, it would be heaving with them,’ she remarked, pointing to the rodents.
‘Their numbers have somewhat declined,’ the Sorceress replied.
Kara turned her attention to a subdued Wareeshta. ‘Why so silent, Dhampir?’ she taunted. ‘Is there something you know?’
‘I am as ignorant as you, Valkyrie,’ she returned.
Ignoring them, L’Ordana snatched her torch from the Dhampir, and stepped out onto the bridge, closely shadowed by her two servants. The light emanating from the torches guided their way, safe-guarding their footing. In the distance, the tilted steps—similar to the ones they had descended—waited for their ascent.
On reaching the other side, the Sorceress mounted them, without hesitation.
‘Thirteen!’ Wareeshta remarked, when they reached the top.
Kara rolled her eyes.
They stepped up into an extended passageway—its length, longer than that of the previous—then continued into a straight, gradual incline, until the passage changed direction, leading them through its winding route.
‘What is this place?’ Kara insisted, her tone becoming impatient; she sensed they were being led upwards—back into the citadel. She received no reply. Snubbed by her mistress, she moved to repeat the question, when the shape of a door came into focus. Carved from the rock, which held it in place, it was clear its purpose was to keep something hidden from view.
On their approach, L’Ordana, motioned them to stop. Raising her torch, she guided the flame slowly along its high-arched frame—a red glow following her line. The heat seemed to melt away the fine divide between stone door and wall.
The Sorceress stepped back. ‘Ascend!’ she commanded.
Shards of rock fell away as the door climbed into the ceiling above. Wareeshta and Kara’s eyes surveyed its gradual disappearance, questioning how it was possible. Turning to face them, L’Ordana smirked at the expressions on their faces, before inflicting her warning.
‘You speak to no-one of this,’ she cautioned. ‘For I will not be lenient, should either of you reveal what you see. Make your vow… or suffer my wrath.’
‘Wareeshta was the first to nod, for fear of it. Kara breathed deeply, her eyes regarding the space where the door had been. Awar
e the Valkyrie was trying her patience, the Sorceress waited patiently, hiding her agitation.
‘It is my curiosity that tempts me in,’ she eventually stated, sliding her eyes towards her mistress.
L’Ordana stepped into the blackness of the doorway. She hesitated.
‘Something prevents you from entering?’ sneered Kara, from behind.
‘I am contemplating whether to “dispatch” you now, Kara,’ she retorted. ‘Or to leave it to another,’ she added, leaving their sight.
‘Why do you antagonise her?’ Wareeshta voiced, shuffling by Kara. She was growing tired of her constant taunts.
Unperturbed, the Valkyrie followed the Dhampir over the threshold and through its darkness, to find her mistress staring at something… waiting… waiting for what?
L’Ordana placed her torch into a perfectly carved wedge in the limestone wall—the flickering flame throwing light on their unusual surroundings. What resembled a large dungeon, clearly housed someone who had resided there for some time; it looked lived-in.
Their means were basic, but sufficient. In the corner, the single berth looked as though it had never been slept in, while a simple wooden chair nestled beside a tiny bench, resembling a table. Kara thought the holding surprisingly dry and airy. Looking up at the far wall, she noticed an oval window, big enough for a large animal to come and go. Through its emptiness, she noticed the veil of night had descended.
‘Who resides here?’ Kara enquired.
L’Ordana released a long, heavy sigh. ‘Why now?’ she uttered beneath her breath, before deciding to leave. Frustrated, she turned—the anger clearly visible on her dead-pan face.
‘We are leaving, my Lady?’ Wareeshta queried.
‘I misjudged my timing,’ she replied, sweeping by her two aids. As they moved to follow their mistress, Wareeshta hesitated, hearing a shuffling sound from behind.
‘Come to return what is rightfully mine, Bella?’ said the voice, it stopping them in their tracks. The three females spun round to find the tall, dark figure grinning back at them. He slyly turned his head, waiting to hear her reply, but was met by silence. ‘I thought not!’ he added, in his thick accent. Magia then hesitated and lifted his head slightly, catching a smirk on Kara’s mouth. Then, as she tilted her head towards him, her wanting eyes fixed firmly on his, he knew why; he had caught the allure of her over-powering scent—and she knew it. As it grew stronger, weaving its way, trying to manipulate his senses, he was then quickly alerted to her ploy. Had he been weaker, he would have bowed to her wants and needs, as the sweet-smell of lemon oil entered his system, its magnetic affect trying to lure him. However, he was far from weak; despite her attempt, he was unaffected by it, though aware of its influence.
So, you think you can capture me with your scent, he thought, smirking back at her.
Kara, seeing his reaction, lifted her brow, enticed by the prospect of this unique challenge. Drawing her tongue across her sensual lips she inched closer, ignoring L’Ordana and Wareeshta. But when he rolled his eyes and shook his head, the thought quickly vanished, injuring her pride; it was clear he was immune to her.
Insulted, Kara made to move towards him, but the Sorceress stepped up, preventing it. He smiled, amused by the intervention, sensing the underlying tension between the two.
‘If you value your life, Kara,’ her mistress warned, ‘I suggest you keep your distance.’
The Valkyrie threw her a curious glance. ‘He is a threat?’
‘The “threat” is the invisible barrier dividing us. It keeps him within his holding.’
‘But, the window,’ said Kara, pointing to its openness.
‘Your beautiful mistress,’ he began, interrupting them, ‘allows me to enter and leave of my free will.’
‘Within your boundaries,’ she reminded him.
‘But, of course,’ he returned with a modest bow.
‘Who is he?’ Kara whispered, in her mistress’s ear.
‘This shall be interesting,’ he said, referring to the Valkyrie’s question.
L’Ordana’s eyes remained fixed on him with scepticism. ‘You look… well,’ she commented.
This time he addressed her with a sweeping, complacent bow.
‘… considering,’ she then added.
Disgusted, he sprung up, glaring at her with his burning, red eyes.
‘Where is it?’ he snapped.
‘Safe,’ she replied, in a calm and collective tone.
He composed himself, feeling a little relieved.
‘For now, at least!’ she added, unable to help herself.
His sudden, swift movement caught them off guard.
‘If anything should happen to it,’ he snarled. ‘I—’
‘Then you know what you must do, Magia.’
‘And should I choose to tell you, would you return the item to me—its rightful owner—and guarantee my release?’
‘Its rightful owner!’ she remarked, amused by his insolence.
‘Si! Then we would both have what we want—Arrivederci! —and may our paths never cross
again. It is as simple as that!’
‘Nothing is simple in our world, Magia Nera. Surely you realise that. If you think, for one moment, I could trust you—let alone—release you… then you are mistaken.’
He paused, gripping his hands behind his back before turning to face the open window. Kara surveyed the two rivals with interest. It was obvious they had shared a past.
‘Be mindful of time, L’Ordana,’ he began. ‘It is our greatest foe. There is nothing we can do to slow its creeping hands. We scurry about, striving to keep up, knowing how it prevails in the end… regardless of who we are.’
Inside, L’Ordana was screaming. She detested him and his smugness, but knew he was right; the march of time was pounding its way towards her—and running out.
‘Steady your heart, Bella!’ he simpered. ‘For it betrays and… ages you.’
Conscious of his meaning, she felt the urge to touch her face, displaying her vanity. Her hand twitched, tempted by his cutting remark. But instinct prevented her from doing so.
‘You have aged, Bella.’
Her mouth fell at his continuous insults in the presence of their company.
‘And your eyes… they lack… spirit! I preferred it when they were sultry and inviting.’
Ignoring him, she turned away from his malevolence, and glanced round. Something dawned on her. She looked to where Wareeshta had stood. The Dhampir was nowhere to be seen.
‘Step out from the darkness, piccolo mio,’ he urged.
Wareeshta came forward from the doorway, where she’d been hiding. He surveyed her with insight, making her cautious. He now inspected L’Ordana’s aids with quick scrutiny, before making his assumptions. He imagined he could now read Kara’s intense thoughts, as the Valkyrie’s images entered his mind. A smug grin appeared across his mouth. She looked away, still reeling from his insult.
‘And what of you?’ he asked, his attention returning to Wareeshta. ‘Are you like her?’
L’Ordana followed his playful interaction between the two servants. The mounting aggravation from his constant games was taking its toll on her, the more he persisted.
‘No, you are nothing like her, little one,’ he said, slowly shaking his head. ‘True?’
Wareeshta lowered her eager eyes, relishing in the bond she knew they secretly shared.
‘Are you thirsty, Warlock?!’ L’Ordana snapped, through gritted teeth, reminding him of what he was. Her eyes were wide with rage.
‘I am… remarkably well. Grazie! The rats are, surprisingly, agreeable to my palate.’
Pity they did not poison you, she thought, as she watched his tongue glide over his upper lip.
Observing him, Wareeshta felt her senses rise, as their arcane blood pumped through her veins.
‘He is a Warlock?’ Kara quietly asked, creeping to her mistress’s side.
‘At your service,’ he answered, hearing her s
peak his true title.
L’Ordana stepped closer, regarding him. ‘He, too, shares Wareeshta’s gift,’ she revealed, ‘in more ways than one. Many have tried to slay him over the centuries, but failed.’ She lingered as they exchanged knowing looks. ‘I thought I had succeeded.’
‘You!’ Kara exclaimed.
‘We were once acquainted—a long time ago—before taking our separate paths.’
‘Regretfully,’ he added, pulling a solemn face.
‘And because he could not bear to be parted from his “Bella” he came looking for me.’
‘And here we are,’ he said, mocking them. ‘Reunited, once again.’
‘The “reunion” was a mere coincidence,’ L’Ordana continued, ignoring him.
‘I have no recollection of it,’ Kara stated.
‘Why should you? He was my concern—my challenge.’
‘One, which you failed in,’ he added.
‘It was my understanding I had destroyed him. My mistake. I neglected to make certain he had been dispatched properly. And because of my error he… lived… regrettably.’
‘How did you—’
‘Snare him in the end?’
Kara nodded.
‘After a year—convinced I was rid of him—the familiar signs of his presence began to emerge. I knew then he would not give up searching for me. Therefore, I sought him out, at his most vulnerable time. However, having failed to instil the fatal blow, it unfortunately—’
‘Rendered him, more dangerous,’ boasted the small voice from behind.
Magia Nera smiled, his dark eyes staring into the ardent face of Wareeshta, her eyes glowing with excitement, in the dim light.
‘Leave us!’ L’Ordana snapped at the Dhampir.
Disregarding the order, Wareeshta continued to embrace his captivating gaze. Alerted to the growing energy between them, the Sorceress threw out her arm, pointing it at the Dhampir. Too preoccupied by his presence, Wareeshta failed to see the warning sign, before being slammed against a wall. Kara grinned, unable to conceal her satisfaction. But the smirk quickly slipped from her face, when she caught his hostile stare. Stunned by the unrepentant blow, Wareeshta stumbled to her feet, glaring at the Sorceress with resentment.
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