CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The mouth of the cave was uninviting and black, but as they followed the trail along further they began to come across a series of blue torches mounted into the sides of the walls feeding light into their travels. Theresa was careful to not take too much of a look around though as they proceeded through, in the event she spied any insect or creature that would make her think twice about her trip down here.
“So I’m taking it you haven’t been in here before,” Theresa said to her companion.
“Well no of course not.”
“But you knew where the cave was.”
“My papa showed it to me one day when we were around these parts. It was forbidden. Off limits. A few kids came back to check it out, but I wasn’t one of them.”
“Did they all come back unharmed?”
“Yes, but they claimed to have heard all these weird sounds when they were down here, so they were too frightened to come back.”
“You don’t hear anything now, do you?”
“Not at the moment.”
“I think I hear something.”
They stopped in the middle of the cavern. Theresa put her finger to her mouth and they both listened carefully.
In. Out.
In. Out.
Inhale, exhale.
Breathing.
Suddenly there was a scratching of boots and a shadow disappeared vanished around the corner.
Maxine pulled one of the torches off the wall. “That was him!”
They both hurried after the fleeing shadow, following the corridor around the bend and through damper and mistier terrain. Theresa was careful to side step rocks and jump over puddles as they caught up to the hooded figure. He had stopped at the archway to a chasm filled with darkness, hunched over, shying away from them.
“Hey!” Maxine yelled as they approached him. “Why are you running?”
“Go away!” the man hissed, not revealing himself.
“Are you the necromancer?” Theresa asked.
He turned to them slightly, pulling back his hood a touch. He was young, only a few years older than they were. His face was covered with an oozing blue substance.
“I said go away,” he hissed at them again. “Before it’s too late.”
“We seek the necromancer,” Theresa repeated. “Where can we find him?”
The man shook his head. “Not him. Her.”
“Well, where is she?” Maxine demanded.
The man pointed down into the cavern. The light of the torch revealed as set of spiraling steps reaching down.
“What are you, her servant?” Theresa asked.
The man shook his head. “Her slave.”
“Well, run away then,” she said. “Set yourself free.”
“I can’t. Or the goo will eat the other half of my face.”
Theresa ground her teeth together. “I’ll teach this necromancer a thing or two.” She snatched the torch away from Maxine and began rushing down the steps into the darkness.
“Hey!” Theresa shouted. “Where are you?”
“Oh no!” the servant cried and hurried away.
Maxine started down behind Theresa, doing her best to catch up.
“HEY!” Theresa shouted a second time. “YOU HAVE A VISITOR!”
Maxine’s hand hit Theresa’s shoulder, pulling her back.
“What?” Theresa murmured.
“Look,” Maxine said pointing.
Then she saw it. A pale-yellow ball opening up with black in the centre.
It closed.
It opened.
In and out.
Theresa turned back to Maxine.
Behind them, a pair of nostrils flared with neon blue flames, lighting up the entire cavern.
The Dragon’s jaw fell open as it started to get up, roaring loudly.
“Oh crap,” Theresa and Maxine said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
In panic, they rushed quickly back up the steps, as the dragon shifted about the cavern below, causing the steps beneath them to shake and buzz. “Who goes there?” a young woman’s voice cried out. “Who seeks the necromancer?”
They made it to the top and hurried up the corridor before Theresa came to her senses. “Wait. Wait, Maxine. Wait.”
“For what?” Maxine demanded.
“She asked us a question.”
“Who? The dragon?”
“Let’s see if she wants to talk.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I think we just woke her up or something. Let’s see if she’s friendly.”
Maxine bit her lips. “Gees. Really, Theresa?”
Theresa nodded. She slowly edged her way back to the cavern’s opening, and peered out from the top of the steps. “Are you friendly? You won’t hurt us?”
“Why should I do that?” the Dragon asked herself. “Although I am rather hungry…”
Theresa looked back at Maxine who was shaking her head.
“Are you the necromancer?” Theresa called.
“Indeed I am,” the dragon replied. “And who might you be?”
“We’re – we’re here on behalf of –”
Maxine clapped her hands over Theresa’s mouth. “It doesn’t matter who we are.”
“So what do you want?” the Dragon demanded.
“We need your help,” Theresa said. “One of our friends has been mortally wounded and we require a necromancer to bring her back to life.”
The Dragon laughed to herself. “I don’t suppose you’ve brought her with you.”
“No,” Theresa said.
“So we’re going to have a bit of a problem then, aren’t we?”
“You can’t get out of there?”
“No,” the Dragon said. “As large as that opening is it’s not large enough to fit me. I’m rather stuck here. And have been for some time.”
“Who did this to you?” Maxine asked.
“It was my wicked half cousin, Portia the Cruel. She was my apprentice for a year before she betrayed me stealing my blue bible and then cursing me with the help of a vampire overlord. I don’t know where she is now, but if I am to be of help to anyone, she must be found so the curse can be reversed.”
“Was she a necromancer too?” Theresa asked.
“She liked to call herself one, I’m sure.”
“I think I know where she is.”
“So bring her to me and have this ended!” the Dragon shrieked.
“And then you promise to help us with our friend?” Maxine requested.
The Dragon glared back at them. “Very well. You have yourselves a deal. Now hurry along, before I change my mind.”
“Thank you,” Theresa said. “We’ll be back.”
They hurried out of the cave together, pleased to see the stallion hadn’t run away. “What do you mean you know where the cousin is?” Maxine demanded. “Were you just saying that or –?”
“Her cousin must be the necromancer that’s been held in the East Castle’s dungeon.”
“And which vampire rules the East House again?”
Theresa sighed. “Seraphine and Cyprian Davorin.”
“The vampires who were going to kill me?”
“Obviously we’re going to have to persuade them.”
“Oh great,” Maxine said. “Like that’s going to work.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Midnight.
There was no sign of Lafayette, Harland or Harland’s horse when they rode back to the pathway where they had last seen them. Maxine took the reins this time as she claimed to have a little more riding experience than Theresa, and they were able to travel back to town without incident.
Suspecting Lafayette might have gone back to the harem to wait for them, that was first on their destination list. Second was trying to find out where the Davorin twins were.
Theresa certainly wasn’t looking forward to being in their company again. If there was a way Lafayette could convince them to let the necromancer go without Theresa herse
lf having to get involved, then she was all for it. Things of course probably wouldn’t work out that way, and there were no guarantees they would even find Lafayette at the harem, but there was little option for them elsewhere.
Once they reached the outside of it, they both hopped off the stallion and marched up through the entrance into the foyer where the front desk was being manned by one of Lord Fane’s servants. Music echoed through the walls, indicating someone was here, if not many.
“Excuse me,” Theresa said, confronting the servant. “I don’t suppose Lafayette has been by in the last hour looking for me.”
The servant shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Princess.”
“Might I ask who is here, then?”
“Cyprian and Seraphine,” he answered. “I believe they’re waiting for you.”
“Is it just them?”
The servant nodded.
Theresa turned to Maxine. “You better sit this one out.”
“Like hell I am,” Maxine said defiantly.
“Seriously, you don’t know what they’ll try and do,” Theresa said. “You should go see if you can find Lafayette elsewhere.”
Maxine groaned. “I’ll swing by the tavern and check on Samuel. But then I’m coming back.”
“Okay. I’ll try to settle this quickly.”
They hugged, and then Maxine departed.
Theresa turned back to the front desk. “If she comes back alone, don’t let her inside.”
“As you say, Princess.”
Theresa went to walk by him, then stopped. “If Harland shows up, you don’t know where I am.”
“What if Lafayette comes looking for you?”
“Just – just make sure Harland doesn’t know I’m here. Otherwise. I’ll be at the bar.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The bar was covered with an emerald mist. Theresa looked beyond the waves and clouds to see two dark figures sitting at a table beside it. Their postures perfectly straightened. Holding glasses of blood in curled, gentle hands. Poised. Frozen. Anticipating.
Theresa stopped in the centre of the room before their outlines were anything more than shadows. The room seemed to darken around her. The green light radiated across her skin.
“Princess Emberlynn,” Cyprian said shrilly. “Or do you prefer … Theresa?”
“So he told you,” Theresa said. “I’m not surprised.”
“You come here alone? Without protection? Aren’t you afraid of what we might do to you?”
“The real princess is dying and we need your help. I’m sure Lord Fane will reward you if you offer your assistance.”
“You cannot speak for Lord Fane,” Cyprian said. “You can’t speak for anyone but yourself.”
“I guess you got me,” Theresa said. “But whoever’s side you think you’re on in this game, you’re going to lose.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Cyprian’s outline rose from its place at the table. Theresa’s eyes widened as his feet lifted from the floor and he hovered across it towards her.
He did not look happy.
“There is absolutely nothing to stop us from killing you now, is there?”
Theresa swallowed. “I suppose not.”
“So what have you to offer?”
“In exchange for?”
“The necromancer of course.”
Theresa breathed in. Continued to stare at him. “My services.”
“Services?” Cyprian snapped back.
Theresa took a step back. “My hand?”
“You would do that?” Cyprian challenged her. “You would offer your hand in marriage to us.”
Theresa blinked. “Uh… Yes?”
“That’s too bad,” Cyprian said. “We don’t want your hand.”
“Oh.”
“The Princess’s hand, that’s another story.”
“Maybe I could help with that.”
Seraphine got out of her chair and started walking over. “That’s not going to work.”
“Okay…”
There was a clipboard in Seraphine’s hands.
“Look, what do you want from me?” Theresa stammered. “I’m trying my best here.”
Cyprian reached into his pocket and produced an object.
He threw it at Theresa, causing her to sidestep. It landed on the floor.
“Pick it up,” Cyprian said.
Theresa looked him uncertainly. Then bent over and took the object.
“That there – is the Collar of Obedience,” Cyprian explained. “Seraphine. Hand her the contract.”
Seraphine walked over looking smug. She handed Theresa the clipboard with a pen.
“If you sign the contract, we will release the necromancer,” Cyprian said.
“That’s not enough,” Theresa said.
“No?”
“You’ve got to get them to help Emberlynn. Or at least help the other necromancer in the blue cave –”
“You will be able to make one request of the necromancer once they are freed,” Cyprian said. “Agreed?”
“And they will comply?”
Cyprian nodded. “Sign it.”
Theresa looked down at the contact. But the mist was so thick she could hardly read it.
“Can I take this outside? I need to –”
“You know what it says,” Seraphine stated.
Theresa hesitated. As though a pause would change anything.
As though if she waited long enough she wouldn’t have to make the choice.
“SIGN IT!” Seraphine shouted.
Theresa signed.
Seraphine took the pen and clipboard from her and returned to the table.
“Now put on the collar,” Cyprian said.
Theresa breathed in deeply. She lifted it over her head.
Then pulled it down.
Cyprian chuckled. He dropped to the floor and walked up to her.
“Now that you’re wearing it, I forbid you to ever take it off without our permission. Understood?”
Theresa nodded.
“Get undressed,” Seraphine said from the table.
Theresa blinked. Her hands lifted and went to the zipper behind her.
“All of it,” Cyprian instructed. “Strip completely.”
Dress. Shoes. Jewelry. Underwear. Bandages.
Nothing.
Nothing left on Theresa’s body.
But the collar.
Cyprian groped her breasts as Seraphine walked around him to stand behind Theresa.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered in Theresa’s ear. “We won’t kill you.”
Then she bit into her neck and began to drink.
Cyprian lifted her bloodied wrist up to his mouth, his fangs pressing down and reopening the wound.
There were fingers inserted into her ass. Her pussy. And for some reason Theresa knew it was only going to get worse.
Above them, as if on cue, the doors to the landing opened and a large, ominous shadow was cast over them.
“Theresa!” Moldark called. “I found it! I found the flower –”
She looked up to him, their eyes making contact through the mist.
“Tell him to go away,” Seraphine whispered in her ear.
“Go away,” Theresa said.
He remained standing there, watching her.
“GO AWAY!” Theresa screamed.
The flower twisted and squished in Moldark’s hand. The blood dripped from his fingers and then the dead flower floated down through the mist.
The doors slammed behind him and the twins laughed.
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