Slowly, she eased upright, remembering where she was, and wanting the element of surprise if Robert should be close. Her muscles eased as she stood taking her own weight.
Her face was painful, and she remembered the punch into her right eye and then nothing. The bastard had knocked her out. Rage filled her, heat warming her angry face.
The anger would be good, and she let it build. She had to escape, maybe it would help. Easing her hands carefully, she tested her wrists. They were not too tight. Robert was getting careless.
What time was it? How long did she have?
As she worked out how long it would have taken, she flexed her hands behind her, testing whatever held them. Tensing, and flexing, over and over, they gradually started to come loose.
Raising her head just an inch, she could see Robert. He was talking to a tall, slim woman, with black hair dressed in leather. This must be Aldona, waiting for her sacrifice.
Robert looked a little sulky, like a child whose favorite toy had been taken from him. His lip was actually pouting. It was a strange sight, and she nearly laughed, the emotion from hysteria more than comedy. Biting down on her lip, she looked around, but there was nothing she could use.
She continued to work the ties around her wrist, pressing against the pole, trying to use it as a lever. The material was wet and heavy, making loosening it harder. It seemed to want to pull tight. She glanced at Robert again. Aldona had moved. She was sitting on the altar in the lotus position with her eyes closed. She looked like she was meditating, doing some form of power yoga.
Jenny looked back at Robert. He had no shirt on. That must be what was holding her, and it gave her an idea. Her new watch had been a pain. The fastener was large and strong and it kept sticking out, she had even scratched herself with it a time or two. She moved her right arm upwards as far as it would go and pulled the material down on to the catch of the watch. She pressed with all her strength and then pulled, feeling a tiny tear form in the cotton. Sighing with relief and hope, she repeated the movement. Bit by tiny bit she ripped the shirt, feeling it loosen on her arms. If she could get free, maybe she could fight him?
Despair tried to overcome her. She saw herself cast in a spell as soon as she moved. “No, damn it,” she mumbled. “I have to try.” And if she got free, and didn’t move until nearly time, she could jump into the pit, at least denying him her sacrifice, stopping him gaining her power.
She worked again at the shirt, her wrists sore and scratched from pulling against the watch catch, but she could feel the material loosening. Another movement, another tiny tear but her wrists were gradually getting looser. She moved again, working the catch, each time she ripped a bit more of the shirt. She had no way of knowing if the tears would join to form a rip or if she was making tiny cuts along the material useless to help her.
She pulled hard, feeling the material rip, and then looseness on her right wrist as the watch came off. It clattered as it hit the floor behind her, a tiny sound in the cellar. Robert and Aldona did not move.
Closing her eyes, she fought back the tears that stung her eyelids. Maybe she had loosened it enough, and could still work free. Opening her eyes, she gasped at Robert. He was stood directly in front of her, a sadistic grin on his face.
“Hello, my pretty, you’re awake.”
“You won’t get away with this,” she shouted, shaking her head against the pole. She closed her eyes and screamed. A hand connected with her face, shocking her to silence. Opening her eyes, she stared directly into his, wanting him to feel the contempt she had. Lifting her head, she saw a shadow on the stairs. What now?
Chapter Forty-Three
The two men stood at the top of the stairs, each wondering what the other was thinking. The main question was who should go first? Simon was the first to break. Pulling Alex aside, he stepped onto the narrow staircase. It had been designed for people to go down backward. The staircase was never meant for daily use and was steep. He walked down forwards, keeping his concentration on the cellar before him, and feeling for any sign of Robert.
Alex stepped onto the stairs behind him, and they walked down in silence, each foot carefully placed on the narrow treads, both aware of the danger below.
Halfway down Simon stopped. He could see Robert’s back in front of him. He focused his mind, concentrated, tensing to send the spell. Taking just one step at a time, being as quiet as he could, he inched down the steps. At last in direct sight, he raised his arm, and the word formed on his ravaged lips. Too late. Robert turned, and waved his hand at Simon, “Duratus.”
Simon froze in mid-stride. He remained there on the steps, frozen, one leg lifted, hovering in mid-air. He swayed for a second, Alex reached out, hoping to grab hold of his shirt, but he missed. Simon swayed, and then overbalanced, tumbling down the last three steps. He landed on the concrete floor of the cellar. His head hit first, squelching as it struck the cold hard floor. His damaged nose and lips impacted with excruciating consequences. Unable to scream, he laid face down, left leg still on the bottom step.
Robert was still celebrating his attack on Simon when Alex sent his spell. “Duratus,” he shouted, waving at the grinning bare-chested mage before him. The spell worked, and Robert stopped, his grin frozen, eyes twitching in his immobile face.
Alex rushed down the stairs, stumbling on the last two. He raised his hand to his forehead, fighting back the fatigue. He touched Simon’s shoulder, noticing how his light hair was growing back after his recent run-in with acid. The touch released Simon. He hauled himself to his feet a little unsteadily, and ran to Jenny as blood dripped from his damaged nose. He hugged her tightly.
“Get me out of here,” she shouted.
“Okay,” Alex said, already behind her, undoing the shredded shirt. He pulled his daughter to him, and hugged her close.
Jenny pushed him back. “It’s true, you’re alive,” she shouted, as tears formed in her desolate eyes, she punched her father’s chest. “You killed your son. Is it true?”
Simon checked his watch. “Look everyone its 1.45am, we should get out of here.”
“He’s right, let’s discuss my past at another time. Let’s just get you safe.” Alex reached out, taking her arm.
Jenny pushed past him. “I’m not safe with you. You are going to sacrifice me anyway. Get away from me.”
She rushed past the two mages, and headed for the steps, desperate to get away.
Aldona appeared before her, gliding to block the stairs, her expression that of a cat toying with a captured mouse.
“You have been promised to me,” she said in a voice as smooth as syrup. She hovered in front of Jenny, her hair cascading down her back like an oil spill against her alabaster skin. Her black leather outfit appeared to be wet, as if blood was seeping from it. Jenny had a vision of the skin being cut from a cow, the animal still alive. Its bellow of agony caused her to jump backward, and the vision was gone. She shut her eyes. The sight of the skin being ripped from the desperately struggling beast was still before her. She squeezed her eyes even tighter, forcing the image to go.
Opening her eyes, she saw Aldona reach out a hand to stroke her hair. Jenny shuddered, and tried to pull back, but she was frozen, this time not by magic but by fear. The woman touched her hair, sliding her black nails and long fingers through the silky tresses. As she leaned over a glutinous drip fell from the leather on her arm. It seemed to float in the air before splattering on the concrete below. Jenny’s eyes followed the droplet, watching as it hit the floor, and left a dark red stain. She looked at the black leather outfit. It was covered in a viscous liquid, some of it running to join the red stain on the floor.
She screamed, and tore her head free from the entanglement of those demanding fingers. She ran back to her father and Simon, who stood dumbfounded next to the seal.
“What now?” Simon asked.
“Now we fight. We have to keep Robert from performing the ceremony. He has till two a.m. All we have to do is delay him another
fifteen minutes and it’s too late.” Alex squeezed the shoulder of the younger mage. “Jenny, get behind us. If you get the chance, run.”
The two friends looked at each other. “Bring it on,” Simon shouted.
Alex muttered, “Drama Queen.” Both men laughed as they watched Aldona release Robert from his spell.
* * *
Doris drove the car through the trees, feeling oppressed as their darkness blotted out what little light the moon could squeeze between the clouds. She allowed the car to roll to a stop. Realizing the rain had also ceased, she switched off the wipers, and pushed the lever into park.
Turning, she looked at Rosie, who sat curled up in the back seat. The dog was worried, and a slight tremor coursed through her red and brown coat. Her muscles were tensed, she was ready for action. “What should we do old girl? Hide, stay here, or go and help?”
Rosie woofed, her tongue lolling out. One of her eyes was still swollen shut from the beating Robert gave her earlier. She looked at Doris, whined, and pawed the door.
“You need a walk, yes?” Doris asked.
Rosie whined again, her head on one side, her one good eye expressive in its pleading.
“All right, you have been cooped up for some time, but don’t you go running off, okay pooch?”
Doris opened the front door, and stepped out. The night was cold, a dampness in the air from the previous rain. She opened the back door, and encouraged the dog to jump out. Rosie looked up. Her brown eye a pool of courage and understanding. She turned and leaped from the car, galloping up the path back to the house.
“Rosie, Rosie, come back girl, please,” Doris shouted at the disappearing dog.
“Damn.” She got back into the car.
Chapter Forty-Four
Robert cracked his fingers before the two mages. He could see Jenny behind them. She looked so sweet and tasty, but he was short of time and wanted to shout, get out of the way idiots. Instead, he calmly walked over, his hands before him. The two men looked weak, they had been through hell, he could beat them.
On the marble top of the altar, Aldona sat cross-legged. All three men had her mark and were, therefore, under her command, but for now she was just watching the show.
Roberts’s eyes flicked to her, hoping for support or encouragement, but he got neither. He flexed his chest, the mark tattooed deep into his skin glistened as if the snake was alive, and willed him on. There was no choice, either way his life was on the line so slowly he approached the two mages.
“Jenny, it’s nice to see your dad so well, don’t you think? How many hours ago was it you wept over his dead body?” Robert leaned his head left, peering between the two friends before him.
Jenny returned his stare, unblinking. “Robert give it up. You’re beat.”
“I don’t think so. Aldona will help me, and these two?” He waved at the mages. “They’re weak, and tired. I will smash them to pieces, and drink their blood after they have watched you die.”
“Look, Robert.” Alex approached his one-time friend. “Let’s talk this through. You know this is not what you want.”
“Nice try, but we are not wasting time here.” He flung his hands at the men. “Duratas.” He sent the spell to freeze them where they stood. At the exact same moment Simon ducked and charged at his knees.
They hit with tremendous force, Robert going over, and crashing onto the concrete. Alex froze for a second, but was released as the fighting men hit the floor, the force breaking Robert’s concentration and releasing the spell.
Alex rushed towards the pair as they rolled and crashed over each other on the concrete. Clouds of dust rose around them as they tumbled across the floor. Simon was on top. He headbutted Robert, the blow painful on his still ravaged face. He then leaned over, grabbing the older man’s bottom lip in his teeth. He crunched down, feeling blood, and tearing as his teeth sliced through, meeting on the other side. He wanted to bite his tongue, rip through it to prevent the man using spells, but missed as the other mage fought against him
Robert thrashed with rage and pain, trying to hurl the blond freak from him. He squealed in terror as Simon bit his lip. Feeling his own blood run down his throat increased his struggles. He tried to mumble an incantation, but with Simon held tight onto his lip, the words would not come.
Alex was looking around for a weapon. He turned to Jenny. “Get out of here, take Robert’s car and go as far as you can.” He found the sacrificial knife and headed to the mages rolling on the floor, squeals coming from Robert sounded like a fighting tomcat.
Jenny hesitated, watching her dad and Simon. She looked to the door and back, uncertainty on her tired face.
Alex felt time freeze as he looked at his daughter, her face ravaged with worry and lack of sleep. How quickly she had grown. He could see Helen’s eyes and features in her face, but what of his own? Was Robert telling the truth? Was she his daughter? He was sure Helen had been faithful, was sure she would never have cheated on him. This was not history repeating itself. “Go, damn it,” he shouted. “He can’t kill us, remember.” He turned, heading back to the fight. Looking back once more he shouted, “Jenny, I love you. Run!”
Jenny headed for the door, skirting around the mages who rolled across the floor like a pair of tomcats, but she had to pass the altar. Aldona was still posed on there, watching. Jenny was within two feet of the stairs when her black oozing leather-clad form simply appeared, blocking the escape route.
“Sorry, my lovely, but you have been promised to me. One of these men will sacrifice you. I’m not sure which just yet, but it’s going to be fun finding out.”
Her hand stroked Jenny’s cheek, moving down her throat. Squeezing as she crossed the larynx, and then lower over her breasts. The smile on the god’s face was lascivious. “I think I’ll play with you while the boys fight.” She closed her eyes.
Jenny struck without thinking, punching the goddess in the solar plexus. She put her full weight behind the blow. Her hand touched the slimy leather. Remembering the vision of the cow, she wanted to pull back, but the blow was committed, and it sank into the warm wet leather as if into a rotten corpse.
Aldona was pushed backward. Jenny ducked left, and scrambled for the stairs. Recovering, Aldona grabbed her by the ankle, and flung her across the room. Jenny landed half over the edge of the pit. She scrabbled for grip, slowly falling over the rim, and into the chasm below.
For a second she considered letting go, at least that would deny either man from using her as a sacrifice. Would he do that? Would her dad really kill her? She could not believe it, and knew, deep in her heart that her mum would never love a man who killed his own child. She started to let go, gravity pulling her in. She began to fall.
Alex left the fight and rushed over. He grabbed her hand, and their eyes met. He saw himself in that face, the set of the cheekbones may be, or the height of her brow. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but was positive she was his child, and positive that it didn’t matter. He strained back, pulling with all his strength.
Jenny kicked at the wall of the pit, searching for purchase to help him haul her up.
Behind them Simon and Robert rolled over and over, the balance of power changing as Robert ended up on top of the tiring mage.
Alex pulled harder as she began to ease out of the pit, her arms appearing over the edge, the skin scraped on the harsh pewter. Her eyes begged for his help, and the distrust was gone. She needed his help, and she trusted him completely. Kicking again, she found a little purchase, and the upward journey continued. The strain in her father’s arms was obvious, and she could feel her clammy skin slipping through his fingers.
“No,” she called out, and redoubled her efforts, her feet desperately searching the pit’s walls to find a foothold. She pulled her body upwards, and looked into her dad’s eyes. She could not imagine him as a murderer. There had to be some mistake. He leaned back, getting a better grip on her wrist, the look in his eyes was love, of that she was sure.
Her arms screamed with pain as he continued to pull. She pushed her legs against the pit, fighting to help haul herself away from that despicable hole.
At last she came over the edge, and rolled onto the pewter seal. She was pulled willingly into his embrace. Her arms were painful, and the ache in the socket of her shoulders excruciating. But she was safe. She hugged him to her, tears falling into his hair as he patted her back.
They were both breathing heavily, Alex’s eyes closed as he took huge gulps of air. Jenny was panting, her heart hammered in her chest, her arms and side scraped on the metal seal. A few places wept a trickle of blood. She closed her eyes for a second, knowing time was short, but just allowing herself a moment to think.
Robert was now on top of Simon, his bottom lip hung by a thread, and dribbled blood and saliva onto the struggling mage. Simon’s strength was failing his struggles becoming weaker. His own acid eroded face was screwed into a grimace of pain.
Alex left Jenny, their eyes meeting for a second as he rejoined the fight. He tried a spell, waving at Robert and shouting, “Duratus.”
Robert looked back, a sneer on his twisted face. He shrugged the spell off, nonchalantly returning it back to the exhausted Alex. Alex stopped, frozen where he stood by his own weak magic.
Robert turned back to Simon. He had the mage pinned to the floor. He knelt on his arms, sat upright and screamed, “Duratus.” The word was slurred without the use of his torn bottom lip, but Simon stopped moving, frozen by the spell, only his eyes showed his distress.
Robert stood, his legs on either side of his beaten opponent. His head was thrown back in celebration. Blood from the fight and his torn lip ran down his bare chest. He screamed his rage and pain before turning to Jenny.
She saw him coming for her. All she needed to do was stay alive long enough to prevent Robert sacrificing her, but how? She could not escape the cellar. Aldona would not allow that. Robert walked toward her, his face a mask of hatred. She searched for a weapon, something to fight back with. For the first time in her life, she regretted having no magical training.
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