by Lana Melyan
It wasn’t a long hike. Nearly forty minutes later, they came out in front of a field.
“Is this the place?” asked Riley, glancing at Eleanor.
“It’s not as big as I remember,” said Eleanor. “But, yes, this is it.”
The field was a bit smaller than a football pitch, and it was empty. There was nothing but tall grass.
Kizzy looked around, her eyes narrowed. “Where was the house?” she asked.
Eleanor pointed at the right end of the field. “There.”
They walked closer and stopped, facing the trees.
Kizzy stepped forward and put her hands before her. She held them palms out, her fingers slowly moving like she was feeling the air.
Eleanor’s heart hammered. She gazed at the others. They were standing in a row at the edge of the field, and by the looks on their faces, she could tell they felt the same way.
“Anything?” asked Riley as Kizzy lowered her hands a couple minutes later.
Kizzy turned her head and glanced at him with glassy eyes. She didn’t answer but took a few steps back into the grass and stopped again. She stood there another minute, this time with her eyes closed, then turned around. “I knew it,” she murmured under her breath.
“Knew what?” asked Riley.
She looked at him absently, not seeming to hear him.
“Oh God.” Eleanor drew in small, quiet gasp. She moved closer to Kizzy and said a little louder, “They’re here, aren’t they?”
Barely nodding, Kizzy said, “I think they are. I started feeling it a while ago.”
“Feeling what?”
“The power,” said Kizzy. “It’s enormous.” She looked at Riley. “Ten times stronger than all of yours combined.”
“So, they’re here. It’s just that we can’t see them,” said Ruben, looking stunned. “Kizzy, can you do it? Can you break the spell?”
“Yes. But it’s not a simple cloaking spell. This veil is strong, as I thought it would be. A simple cloaking spell wouldn’t last long.”
“What do you need for that?” asked Hanna. “Kizzy, you didn’t bring anything with you,” she said with a little panic in her voice. “How are you going to do this?”
“I brought everything I need,” said Kizzy confidently. “This is a strong spell and it’s sealed with blood, as I supposed it would be if we found it. What I couldn’t be sure was what kind of blood they would’ve used. To undo the spell, I’ll need my power and the same kind of blood.”
“But if you don’t know what kind—” started Eleanor.
“That’s why I brought all I had at hand,” said Kizzy with a sly smile. She pointed at Riley, “The Hunter’s blood,” then at herself, “the witch’s blood,” and then at Kimberly, “and pure, non-supernatural, human blood.”
Ruben took Kimberly’s hand. “Don’t worry. It’s just a few drops.” He gazed at Kizzy. “Isn’t it?”
Kizzy rolled her eyes.
“Can you all stop saying that?” said Kimberly, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m not worried. And I want to help.”
“Let’s try mine first,” said Riley, pulling a jackknife out of his pocket.
Kizzy walked back to the edge of the field. Facing the woods, she closed her eyes and began chanting. It took a long moment before she turned to Riley. As Riley cut his palm, she took his hand and, holding it palm down, said louder:
Et destruam parietem. Revelare tuum secretum.
The air before them rippled. Kizzy must’ve felt it, as her eyes flew open. Holding her breath, Eleanor took a few steps forward. But that was it, one short moment, like a mirage, and then everything went back to normal.
“Maybe it needs more blood?” asked Riley.
“No. That’s not it,” said Kizzy, looking puzzled. She took the knife from Riley, then said, “Step back.” Riley stepped away. Kizzy deftly ran the blade across her palm and dropped the knife. As the blood from her hand dripped down, she repeated the incantation. The air rippled again. But just like the first time, after a few seconds the waves were gone.
From the back pocket of her jeans, Kizzy pulled out a thin rectangular package. She ripped the plastic, pulled the bandage out of it, and pressed it to her palm. When she looked up, Kimberly was already standing next to her. Kizzy picked up the knife. “Do you want me to help you?” she asked arrogantly.
Eleanor didn’t like that idea, and neither did Ruben, she could read it on his frowning face. The fact that Kimberly had to cut herself made Eleanor feel bad enough without seeing Kizzy put extra effort into it.
“No, thanks,” said Kimberly. “I think I better do it myself.”
“As you wish,” said Kizzy, handing over the knife.
Kimberly bit her lip and pressed the blade to her palm. As she pulled the knife, she winced, then she outstretched her hand and turned it palm down. Kizzy closed her eyes and repeated the incantation. But the effect was absolutely the same.
Eleanor heard the sighs of disappointment. Kizzy got another bandage out of her pocket.
“Thanks,” said Ruben, taking it out of her hand. He ripped open the package and put the bandage on Kimberly’s still bleeding wound.
“So, what do we do now?” asked Hanna, looking from one to another.
“Kizzy, what do you think is wrong?” asked Riley. “Is it the blood? Or a lack of power? I mean, maybe the spell wasn’t done by one witch. Maybe there were two of them, or more.”
“No,” said Kizzy, musing. “It’s not the power.” She crossed her arms over her chest and began walking back and forth with a concentrated look on her face.
“It might be a different kind of blood,” suggested Hanna. “Vampire blood, for example.”
Kizzy shook her head. “The blood is working. It’s something else,” she said, absently staring at Hanna. She stopped, and her eyes came to focus. “Here’s a creepy thought. What if there’s a witch sitting behind that veil and fighting me?”
Ned, who was sitting under the tree, got up. “You think someone’s been sitting there this whole time to guard the bodies?”
“No. Not this whole time. But it’s possible Fray took extra precautions after you got your powers back.”
“Actually,” said Eleanor, “it seems pretty weird that nothing stopped us on our way up here. No spells, no traps. It’s not like Fray.”
“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Ruben. “I think he’s just sure that, if we hadn’t managed to find this place in a hundred and sixty-two years, we’re incapable of doing it in a couple of weeks. Besides, the place is invisible. Now that we have our powers back, nothing can stop us. Traps and barriers would only attract attention. It would be a hint.”
Kimberly cleared her throat. “I know I’m an amateur at all this,” she said, fiddling with a piece of grass in her hand, “but I was thinking . . . as Kizzy said, the blood is working. But what if we’re using it wrong?”
“What do you mean, wrong?” Kizzy glared at her.
Kimberly looked at the others. “If they used only one kind of blood, for example the Hunters’, then my blood shouldn’t have any effect on it at all. Or Kizzy’s. But it does.” She looked back at Kizzy. “What I’m saying is, maybe we should do it at the same time. What if the witch, the one who did the spell, used all three kinds of blood together?”
“It makes sense,” said Riley, “and, it doesn’t hurt to try.”
Kimberly squeezed her bandage.
“I’m sorry,” said Riley. He put his hand on her shoulder and stretched his lips into a guilty smile. “Is it healing?”
His funny expression made Kimberly laugh. “I’m not a Hunter, you know. But, don’t worry, it will at some point.”
“Wait,” said Kizzy. “If Kimberly’s theory is right, then it should have worked already. When she shed her blood, mine and Riley’s were already there.”
Ruben walked out from the grass and picked the knife up from the ground. “No. Riley’s wasn’t,” he said calmly. “Because a Hunter’s blood dries ver
y fast.” He looked down at the three blood spots. “By the time Kimberly shed her blood, Riley’s was crystallized.” He rubbed the dry stain with the tip of his shoe. Ruben pressed the blade to his palm and squeezed it. “Let’s try it again.” He yanked the knife out of his hand.
Standing next to him, Kizzy began chanting. Once again, the air rippled, but this time the rippling didn’t stop. The waves grew bigger and thinner, and then they were gone. All of them stared at the new view, which the vanished veil left behind—a tall, old, one-story house.
“It worked,” shrieked Hanna.
“Here it is,” said Riley, looking at beaming Eleanor. “You were right.”
“Let’s see what’s inside,” said Ruben.
But as he took a step, Kimberly pulled him back. “Guys,” she called faintly, and when they all turned their eyes on her, she said, “Look,” and pointed at the field behind them.
Eleanor’s blood froze. “Oh my God,” she gasped.
“Holy crap,” mattered Hanna.
All of them, standing side by side, stared at the field. The grass wasn’t there anymore, only earth. On which, in straight rows, stood about fifty stone coffins.
“We did it,” said Eleanor, looking at the others. “We found them.” But when nobody shared her excitement, she looked back at the coffins, and her teeth clenched.
“Holy shit,” muttered Hanna. She moved forward. So did Ruben. Walking between the tombs, Hanna counted, “One, two, three, four . . .”
“Dammit,” cursed Riley through gritted teeth.
“Eleven,” said Ruben darkly. “There are eleven.”
The lids of eleven tombs were open. And they were empty.
“It’s here,” said Samson.
“Where?” asked Craig. He stood in the middle of the desert, his boots sunken into the hot sand. Craig pulled his sunglasses up on top of his headdress and looked around. There was nothing.
Samson, who was only a few steps away, said quietly, “Right here. It took me many years to find this place.” Then he touched the air and began speaking words Craig could not understand.
Gaara kum,
Gaara cutto,
Met Gaara.
Shahak citto te rumm
De Retto de Hrumma.
Pilla de rok
Pitta de hurach.
Just like when he touched the veil around the castle, an arch opened in front of them. The view beyond it made Craig’s heart throb. Samson walked through the arch, and so did Craig. After a few steps, they stopped before a tall stone door of a big, sand-colored temple. The door was covered with symbols familiar to both, except Samson was the only one who could read them.
“Are you nervous?” asked Samson.
“I can’t feel my legs,” muttered Craig.
“Yeah,” said Samson, “I’m nervous, too.”
He drew closer to the door, then pulled the wooden box out of the bag and took the golden disc—the Key—out of it. On the right side of the wide, stone door frame was a horizontal slit. As Samson pushed the disc into the keyhole, a strip of silver light shot out of it, and the disc began rotating. After a short moment, they heard a click. The light was gone and so was the Key. Then it rattled, and the heavy stone door moved aside, rasping against the sand. They looked into the darkness ahead, and all they could see was the golden glow of a great pentacle.
“Are you ready?” asked Samson, and when Craig nodded, he smiled. “Good. Let’s go meet the Higher Powers.”
END OF BOOK TWO