by Amos Cassidy
Harold entered the room, his chest oiled and bare and a studded dog collar tied tightly around his bulging neck. With one hand he easily pulled along a bloody figure.
Roman…
43.
TINY DROPLETS OF CRIMSON
From the rise and fall of his chest, Rose could tell that Roman was alive. His eyes, however, were closed and swollen and he was covered in blood. He raised his head weakly– he was conscious. There was a nasty looking wound on his shoulder, a deep welt that shimmered and Rose realised it was embedded with silver. Harold stopped dragging him and stood motionless, his face expressionless– just an empty, blank canvas with dead eyes looking into the distance at nothing in particular.
“Good boy,” Faye crooned.
Harold didn’t react.
“Harold?” Raven called. He glared at Faye. “What have you done?”
“He’s my pet now. I always wanted a dog. And this one is house trained to the extreme.”
Bres waved a hand at one of the winged creatures. “Fetch the other prisoner, darkling.”
The darkling left to do as he was bid.
The cavern was filled with a sudden pregnant silence. A jumble of unvoiced thoughts, a tumult of emotions held in check, every captive afraid to break the peace, afraid of the consequences. Only Erin whimpered lightly at the sight of his bloodied brother on the ground. All eyes were on Roman and Harold, the air thick with dreadful anticipation.
The silence was abruptly broken as Flo’s unmistakable voice filled the cavern.
“Get off me!” she demanded, as the darkling dragged her in. She was covered in dirt and grime, her hair in disarray, her clothes torn. Her wrists were bound together before her with thick shackles connected to a heavy chain link leash which the darkling took great pleasure in yanking periodically. Her feet were bare and she was limping.
She spotted her youngest son. “ERIN!” She burst forward trying to reach him and was jerked backwards off her feet by the babbling darkling, its eyes bulging with glee. The darkling lashed out with its wiry legs, kicking Flo between the shoulders blades so she fell forward, landing on her knees.
“MUM!” Erin pointed wildly in the direction of Harold and Roman.
Flo screamed. “MY BOY! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!”
“Enough!” Bres’ command filled the chamber.
Flo turned her head to glare at him, her eyes burning with impotent fury. “Who the fuck are you?”
Bres ignored her and withdrew a silver dagger from inside his robes. The Darklings hummed excitedly, making odd cooing noises as Bres approached Harold and Roman.
Bres looked down on Roman with cool disgust. “Get up.”
“Fuck you,” Roman’s lips were cracked and bleeding, one of his eyes too swollen to open fully.
“Get up.” Bres delivered a sharp kick to Roman’s ribs.
Roman grunted in pain, bowing his head, his back rising and falling with the effort of breathing through the pain. For the first time Rose noticed how discoloured his sides were. It would be a miracle if his ribs weren’t broken.
Roman tilted his head to Bres. “I said fuck you.”
“Get him up,” Bres directed Harold.
In a swift motion, Harold had Roman on his feet.
“Fuck.” Roman gasped and swayed a little, light headed at the speed in which he was forced to his feet. “So…I’m up…”
Bres stood before him. “You will all comply. There is no other choice. Disobedience will not be tolerated.”
Roman snorted. “What you gonna do? Kill me to prove a point?”
Bres’ beautiful face was suddenly devoid of any emotion. “Yes.”
“NO!” Flo shrieked. “NO!”
Rose drew a shocked breath and held it, shaking her head from side to side as if to deny what she had just heard.
“Time runs short and I have a point to make, much better illustrated with something visual.” He grasped Roman’s chin in one hand yanking his head up further. “This is the penalty for disobedience, the price for your compliance.”
Roman struggled, unable to break free.
Bres raised the dagger above Roman’s head.
“Wait.” Faye stepped forward.
For a spilt second Rose’s heart leapt into her mouth, for a split second she entertained the thought that Faye may be Roman’s saviour. As if sensing her thoughts, Faye graced her with a sly sidelong look and Rose’s heart plummeted.
“Give the dagger to Harold,” Faye said sweetly.
Bres seemed to consider this, his eyes moving from his daughter to Harold to Raven and then finally to Roman. “An excellent suggestion.”
Faye and her father exchanged a look that rattled Rose’s insides. “Please, no,” she pleaded. “We will comply, please. There will be no more resistance.”
“Roman…” Thistle’s voice was saturated with panic.
They were going to do it…they were really going to do it…. Rose willed her hands to glow, she had to do something. She had to stop them hurting…killing…she had to…
Bres handed the silver dagger to Harold. Harold’s palm hissed as the silver ate into his flesh. The werewolf didn’t flinch, didn’t show any sign that the dagger burning into his hand was painful.
Why wasn’t it working? Why wouldn’t her power rise?
Try harder! Rose willed herself.
Raven was trying to break free from his binds, the silver burning his skin with a sickening sizzle. “HAROLD! Put the dagger down. HAROLD! Resist it! HAROLD!” His cries reverberated around the chamber, piercing each of them with his desperation but failed to pierce Harold’s armour.
Roman reached for his pack brother, tried to form the connection they had always had despite their constant bickering. “Come on, mate,” he said softly “This isn’t you, you’re no one’s bitch.” For the breath of a moment Harold’s eyes locked on him, seemed to see him, a sheen of perspiration broke out on his forehead, his mouth pulling down at the corners.
Faye laid a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “Now,” she commanded. And the budding connection with Roman was severed.
Roman sagged. Harold pulled him up and ready.
“FUCK!” Thistle cried out. “ROMAN!”
As the blade plunged downwards guided by Harold’s hand, Roman’s eyes scanned the room, full of life, full of regret. They touched upon Thistle, Erin, Flo, Raven and finally Rose. And it was Rose who saw the life fade from those emerald depths.
There followed screams of shock, anguish and vengeance. While Roman’s bloody body was discarded on the ground, the room erupted with a cacophony of sounds.
Rose was silent, her eyes fixed on the limp body of the man she had loved. His mouth was slightly parted as if in a silent plea, his eyes closed. He looked empty.
She felt it building up inside her, the power awakened by her anger. It sensed the rage and latched onto it even before she herself was consciously aware of it. And she felt the heat of it, the fury that she directed at the power itself. Why now? Why not a mere few moments ago?
What good are you now? She raised her face to the roof and screamed.
“ROSE! NO!” Raven’s call cut through the fog of destructive emotion swirling around her, and she registered the familiar tingling burn in her limbs.
“ROSE! You can’t!” Raven cried again.
“Impressive, but a breach of our little oral contract don’t you think?” Bres’ dulcet tones filled the air.
Rose lowered her gaze to find him clutching a weeping Flo by the hair.
He looked down at her hands. “Lights out, please.”
Sure enough her hands were glowing. Her lip curling in disgust, she pulled the energy back, willing it into the tiny visualised box near her heart– a box that was beginning to tick like a bomb.
“Good.” Bres released Flo, flinging her toward the far wall where she collided with the rock face with a thump and fell dazed to the ground.
It was then that Rose registered Erin’s heart wrenching sobs. Thistle
’s eyes were dazed, empty, as if a part of her had died with Roman. Raven’s wrists and lower arms were seared and bloody from pulling at his restraints, his face still wet with tears. Liza and Henry were gazing at Roman’s body with stunned expressions.
“Good boy,” Faye said to Harold. “Now go and keep the bed warm.” Faye kissed him, a long lingering kiss.
Harold’s eyes were open and unresponsive. But Rose saw something in them, saw a flash of life that was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Faye kissed him again and he faded away.
Flo, having recovered from her daze, was sobbing again as the next wave of grief hit her. Her hands were bleeding as she clawed and punched wildly at the ground, pulling at the chains that bound her, desperate to be with her dead son. A darkling had her firmly restrained. “ROMAN! MY BABY! NO! ROMAN! ROMAN! ROMAN!”
Bres frowned in annoyance. “How am I supposed to think with all this noise?” His lip curled in distaste as he took in Flo’s display of grief. He sighed and turned to Faye. “Silence her.”
“Can I cut out her tongue?”
Ossian stepped forward. “Has there not been enough unnecessary bloodshed?”
Faye growled low in her throat but Bres simply nodded and turned to his daughter. “I am sure you can find other means to silence the woman.”
Faye walked over to Flo. She put a finger to her lips. “Shhh.” Then she flicked her wrist, ejecting some silver silk, which latched onto Flo’s mouth, effectively gagging her. Faye returned to her father, leaving Flo to continue her futile struggle against her restraints in silence. “Better?”
“Much.” They shared a warm smile before Bres turned back to his literally captive audience. “Now you have seen the severity of the situation. I have shown you that compliance is the only option you have. The werewolf’s mother will be next if you fail again.”
No one said a word– there was no cause to believe otherwise. It was as if the fight had been bled out of them, flowing away and seeping into the dusty earth in time with Roman’s life blood.
Bres studied each of them severely “And then if you fail again, the other prisoner will follow.”
“Brandon.” Raven whispered.
Rose shot Raven an enquiring look but his eyes were fixed on the figure wreathed in shadows. Ossian shifted nervously. Rose’s mind worked quickly, they must have used Brandon to lure Raven and then Ossian had somehow captured them both.
Bres nodded. “Do I have your full cooperation?”
A traumatised Liza and Henry nodded warily. Erin was still crying. Thistle was silent, her head bowed as if in submission.
Raven spoke for them all. “You have our cooperation.”
Bres looked at him and nodded. “Good. It is almost midnight. Ossian, bring the athame.”
Roman’s dead… Rose’s inner voice reminded her.
Ossian held a plain wooden box in his hands. He handed it to Bres, averting his gaze from the captives.
He’s not comfortable with this, thought Rose, the evidence was in his body language– the slight hesitation before he did as he was bid, the furrow of his brow.
Bres approached Erin but when he spoke he addressed them all. “With this iron blade you will all give the gift of your blood. Cut deep enough for blood to fall onto the platform.”
Bres opened the box and winced. Inside was an iron athame with a black handle. He lowered the box to Erin, holding it as far away from himself as he could. “The first gift of blood is from the human descendent.” He thrust the box toward Erin. “Take it.”
Erin looked at the blade, his sobs turning to frightened hiccups.
“You will take it and give your gift of blood,” Bres said sharply. “Do not waste time.”
Rose broke away from the screaming in her head. “It’s okay,” she said to Erin. “It won’t hurt for long. It’s okay. Just pick it up.”
Roman is dead…
“It has to be by your hand.” Bres jiggled the box impatiently. “Do it now or your mother will follow your brother.”
Raven growled.
“It’s okay.” Rose reassured Erin again.
Erin removed the iron athame from the box. “Don’t hurt my mum.” He stuck out his bottom lip, positioned the blade on the palm of his hand, squeezing his eyes shut and sliced. He bit his lip and moaned as tiny droplets of crimson dripped onto the platform beneath him.
The platform vibrated. A tinny sound like a delicate bell emanated from beneath and the grey metal lit up in a pretty turquoise light.
A whisper on the air…
Erin put the blade back into the wooden box with shaking hands and sat down clutching his wound.
Rose felt a surge of love and pride toward the little boy. His bravery in the face of something he should never have had to face was astounding. Roman would be so proud of him.
Roman is dead…
Bres moved to Thistle next. “The second gift of blood is from the vampire descendent.”
Thistle was on her knees, her eyes still closed. She reached up and took the athame from the box, keeping her eyes closed. She sliced her palm, allowed her blood to flow. Her platform lit up turquoise. She returned the blade to its box.
“The third gift of blood is from the werewolf descendent.”
Raven took the blade, his eyes holding Bres’ and cut. “His death will be avenged.”
Bres simply smiled patronisingly.
Liza was next.
“The fourth gift of blood is from the witch descendent.”
Then Bres turned to Henry.
“The fifth gift of blood is from the warlock descendent.”
Finally it was Rose’s turn.
“And now you,” Bres said. “Your blood is the final key in the lock, and the most precious.”
Rose wanted to ask how she was the most precious and what she exactly was. Why hadn’t he named her? But the words were lost inside her, swirling beneath the only three words that mattered. Roman is dead…
She grasped the athame and made the cut.
Her platform lit up.
The cavern floor began to vibrate, sending the Darklings into a frenzy of cooing. The Tinkerbell lights buzzed and hovered expectantly.
Turquoise light started to pour from the platforms into the centre of the semicircle. Around the fey treasures a circle of light was forming, whispers filling the air as the lines of turquoise slivered in opposite directions to then meet in a kiss to form a circle. The cavern shook with a stronger vibration, humming through rock, metal and flesh.
“The veil is thin,” Bres said.
The whispers were louder. They were indecipherable. No single word could be picked out of the web of voices. But Rose thought she heard Roman. Not what he said, but his baritone, his sound…
Roman is dead…
The circle of light intensified, the vibrations increased. There were cries of joy from the Darklings. Faye and her father stood tense with excitement, Ossian watched on blankly.
Midnight was seconds away.
And the light grew brighter.
Erin was on his feet.
Brighter, brighter, brighter…
Faye was laughing.
Brighter, brighter, brighter…
Thistle opened her eyes.
Brighter, brighter, brighter…
Liza watched with bated breath.
Brighter, brighter, brighter…
Henry winced, squeezing his eyes shut.
Brighter, brighter, brighter…
Raven raised an arm to shield his eyes.
Brighter, brighter, brighter…
Rose closed her eyes.
There was an explosion…
44.
POWER
Turquoise energy filled the circle of light, flooding over the fey treasures, crackling and exploding violently as it swirled and crashed against an unseen barrier, concealed within the circle. It erupted upward in an intense and pounding boom, cascading into the cavern ceiling like a reversed waterfall.<
br />
The force of the explosion threw everyone onto their backs.
As Rose gathered herself, ready to be back on her feet, she felt a tingling sensation all over her body. Then she felt their eyes on her, wide and full of wonder.
Her body was glowing with a pretty golden light. She could feel her power bubbling under the surface, hot and brewing in every fibre of her being.
She was distracted by a burning pain in her ankle and looked down to see the metal shackle melt away like butter meeting heat. Liquid metal dripped down her shoes and formed a tiny puddle on the ground under her feet. She kicked her leg out, flicking off as much of the liquid grey as she could before turning to Raven. She had to move fast. Raven was by far the strongest in the room, they needed him free. She looked down at her glowing body. Could she melt his shackles with one touch? She hoped to God she could.
Rose ran to him, well aware of Faye, Bres, Ossian, the Tinkerbells and dark creatures around her, well aware that any moment they could go in for an attack, but banking on the explosion to provide enough of a distraction for her to complete the task. Refusing to acknowledge the body that lay empty in her peripheral vision, she moved toward Raven, because to acknowledge it would be her undoing. She would freeze and that would be the end of it. This was their one and only chance to get out of this and it was all riding on her shoulders. She wouldn’t let them down. She wouldn’t let his death be in vain.
The eruption of energy ceased and the product floated against the ceiling, defying gravity in an angry whirlpool of light.
She heard Bres yelling theatrically. “The power is released! Oh, magnificent power! Return to our treasures, restore us to our glory!”
Faye was giggling hysterically, her eyes fixed upon the power above.
It didn’t seem that Rose’s newly acquired freedom had been noticed yet. The fey remained transfixed on their prize as they waited in anticipation for it to infuse their treasures.
Rose touched the silver shackles on Raven’s wrists, and then the ones on his ankles. He gritted his teeth as the silver melted and hissed as it burnt his skin. His wrists were red and raw, but disregarding his wounds he immediately shifted into wolf form. His jeans were left behind in tatters as he bounded towards Bres in a blur of blue-black.