by Dave Ferraro
Chapter Twenty-Two
One year ago…
Krystal stomped over the grass of the cemetery feeling like she was on top of the world. The sun shone brightly overhead, as if in celebration of last night’s success. She had reunited a family, and given them peace of mind as she’d discovered their lost boy. She’d used her powers to do something amazing!
“Oh, Cassandra!” she called out happily.
She ran her fingers lightly over a vault on her way to the southeast corner. Then she giggled to herself as she blew a kiss to the wingless angel, standing over Robert Stanton, 1890-1908.
Cassandra appeared before her with an amused smile on her face. “Well, you’re in a good mood. Why so chipper?”
Over the past year, Krystal had grown taller and curvier. She was blossoming into a young woman. Meanwhile, Cassandra looked the same as ever. Dark-skinned and blonde, and quite pretty, but still a girl. She was stick-thin and had no breasts to speak of. And she would never grow taller and more womanly. But in that moment, Krystal felt like she could change that. She was high off of her success and it was like her magick suddenly had no boundaries. And who really knew what she was capable of?
“I found Tommy.”
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “Shut up.”
Krystal nodded, very pleased. “I did. Donald was lost and…oh, it’s quite the story.”
“Details,” Cassandra demanded, crossing her arms, a glint in her eyes. “Now.”
“Not now,” Krystal said, smiling gaily. “At my house. I‘ve decided that you’re going to stay with me. Why shouldn’t I have my best friend near me at all times?”
Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “You’re really full of yourself right now. You know that, right?”
Krystal rolled her eyes. “Please. I just felt alive for the first time, like I suddenly realized the potential of these powers. I can do things I never imagined I could. You have no idea how it felt to reach out with these powers and touch Tommy’s bones. It was like fate. Oh, and seeing the will-o-wisp too, that was cool. Didn’t know I could do that.”
Cassandra frowned. “Will-o-wisp?”
“Yeah, it’s like a fairy. A bad fairy, I think, leading travelers to their deaths.” She paused and shook her head. “But enough prattling on. Let’s get you out of here. No more sleeping in a grave for you. No, Ma’am. Tonight, you sleep in a nice comfy bed.” She snorted. “I mean, you can’t really feel it, and you don’t really sleep, but you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Cassandra said slowly. “But Krystal, you can’t take me from here. I’m tied to my body and this cemetery, this hallowed ground. I have boundaries.”
“That’s your theory,” Krystal snorted. “But you haven’t seen my powers before. I’ve never tried to do anything for you. I mean, sure, I can see you and we talk, but I could actually help you.”
“I’m not ready to move on, Krystal.”
“Then don’t. Just move in with me. I’ll have my own ghost roommate!”
“I don’t…”
Krystal grabbed her hand, forcing herself to feel it in her hands. She willed herself to feel it.
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “You didn’t go through me.”
“Nope. And that won’t be the end of it either.” She chuckled as she pulled Cassandra into a run behind her.
Cassandra laughed as well. “I never thought I’d touch somebody ever again!”
“You can!” Krystal said. “Just imagine the possibilities!” She led them to the open cemetery gate. “You’re going to finally live, Cassandra.”
She felt Cassandra resist her pull, but continued dragging her friend toward the gate, toward her new home. A thousand scenarios of them together in her house ran through her head. She wouldn’t have to feel alone ever again.
“Krystal,” Cassandra protested. “I don’t-“
Her voice trailed off as Krystal yanked her through the gates.
Krystal smiled and looked up at the sky. “See? Your life doesn’t have to be only a few acres wide now.” She looked back, suddenly realizing that she wasn’t holding Cassandra’s hand anymore. She frowned at the cemetery gates. Cassandra was nowhere to be seen. “Cassandra?”
She stepped back into the cemetery, unsure. “Cassandra? Hellllllloooo? Where’d you go?”
She glanced around, and felt a chill run up her spine. Then her heart started to pick up pace. “Cassandra? Stop playing. This isn’t funny.” She swallowed hard, stalking back to the southeast corner. She looked left and right, tapping her foot nervously as she waked in circles around the spots where she usually found Cassandra lounging about.
“You’re scaring me,” Krystal whispered, feeling tears in her eyes. “Cassandra, please…” She stood there stupidly staring around herself for an hour before what she’d done finally sunk in. She walked slowly up a small hill, and dropped to her knees in front of a small plaque on the wall of a vault, the words nearly worn away by the elements. Cassandra Davis. Loving daughter. 1899-1911.
“I didn’t know,” Krystal cried, staring down at the plaque. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
And it felt like a death.
Now…
Krystal stared at the sole bed in the room, draped in silk. The whole room was rather indulgent, with gold chests and a bureau, its own bathroom. But there were iron bars over the windows. And there was no door, but more bars in the way of freedom. It was a pretty cage, but a cage nonetheless.
“Well, she wasn’t kidding,” Damien said, flopping down on the bed. “It is a nice dungeon.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Roma said, appearing in the doorway. “You don’t want to see what I have in the other dungeons.”
A vampire slid the bars back for her and she stepped inside with a covered basket that looked like it could contain a picnic. Krystal hoped that it did.
She watched Roma set the basket down warily. “Are there vipers in there?”
Roma chuckled as she turned to her. “Hardly. I’ve had a thought. I’m a good sport, so I’ll give you a chance to save your friends in that dreary underworld they call The Goblin Market. Call it a good faith gesture.” She paused. “But I won’t allow it without some sort of sacrifice.”
She opened the basket and pulled out a raven-haired china doll, fat and squat, with feminine features set in its rather large porcelain head. She set it down on the bureau before setting an identical one down beside it, then another one, and another. When she was through, six china dolls stood on the bureau, each identical to the next.
“What is this?” Ash sneered. “More voodoo games?”
“Something like that,” Roma said with a mysterious smile. “But my voodoo isn’t the kind that tourists delight in, taking gris-gris souvenirs home with them. No, this is real magick, blessed by the loa.”
“Twisted magick,” Ash countered. “You are nothing compared to voodoo queens of the past, stripping this magick of its spiritual meaning, desecrating it.”
“You speak of desecrating voodoo when your former queens steered their followers to Catholicism. Now that is twisting and diluting where our power comes from.” She walked over to Krystal, clearly dismissing Ash. She swept her hand behind her. “These are for you, my dear.”
Krystal looked past her at the dolls, each with a mass of black hair atop their heads. They were kind of pretty, with their beautiful smooth glass faces, but they were bulky and ugly at the same time. She’d never been much of a fan. She would prefer stuffed animals any day of the week.
“A test?” Krystal asked.
Roma cocked her head. “I suppose you could call it that. I prefer calling it a lesson, with quite a reward. You see, I’ve snipped hair from the six of your friends that I’ve captured and sent to The Goblin Market to be sold as slaves to the highest bidder. Their lives are now connected to these dolls.”
“Voodoo dolls,” Krystal breathed.
Roma nodded.
“Another dark art that I’ll teach you when you’ve come to your senses.”
Krystal didn’t reply.
“Each of these fragile dolls contains a key in their head. A key to the door of your prison, a key to your freedom that will allow you to save the rest of your friends.”
Krystal frowned. “I don’t get it.”
Roma smiled. “No? I think you do.”
Ash cleared his throat. “To get the key, you have to smash in a porcelain head, which means you kill one of your friends.”
“Quite right,” Roma beamed. “Of course, you won’t know who you are killing, but it hardly matters. There is a key in each one, all identical. It’s a game of chance. But then again, isn’t it worth sacrificing one friend to save the lives of the others? It’s all about the big picture, a lesson I hope you take away from this. What you are doing with the hunters is insignificant. These small victories don’t change a thing. But here, by my side, you can make an impact.”
Krystal stared at the dolls, suddenly horrified by them and what they represented, the fragile lives of her friends, put into her hands in a game of chance. “No.”
Roma watched her for a moment. “Yes, my dear. Scarlet had big plans as well. Plans that would change the face of this planet.”
“The vampires,” Shanna breathed. “You’re behind all of the vampires in the area, aren’t you? And trying to hide the fact that you’re producing so many by slashing their throats afterward.”
Roma looked impressed. “Quite right. It was actually Scarlet’s idea. She got sidetracked by the discovery of the mora, dreadful things, but this was her baby. We’d been doing it for years before her…demise. I’ve found another to carry on her cause, someone rather ambitious as well, but she is no necromancer.”
“Wait, you’ve been creating vampires in secret for years?” Damien blinked. “How many vampires have you created?”
“A formidable army, but there’s still much work to do. La Faer Noir won’t be able to stand in my way when I’m through, of course. But you knowing that won’t change things. They can’t touch me here, not when I’m surrounded by so many loyal followers.”
“You’re just like Scarlet,” Shanna shook her head. “You think you should inherit the earth, that humans are at the bottom of the food chain and should be slaves to your kind.”
“But of course.”
Krystal scowled. “You are one delusional witch.”
Roma smiled tightly. “You will come to my way of thinking soon enough, dear. Once you’ve had a taste of true power. But right now, I believe you have a decision to make. Your friends won’t last long in The Goblin Market, so you probably don’t want to dawdle.”
She stood up and the guards let her out before locking the bars again behind her. She watched them from behind the bars for a moment before she smiled in at them. “You will have no one barring your way once you open these doors. You will have a clear path to your friends. But those dolls are spelled and can not leave the grounds without breaking. I expect you to return after your rescue attempt, or I will be forced to break them all. I only want to chat with you again, you understand, so don’t worry your pretty little head over it. Make your choice and run your errand, now.”
She nodded to the guards and disappeared.
“You can’t do it,” Shanna said as soon as Roma had left them.
“We have to,” Ash said. “She left us little choice in the matter. We can’t postpone this rescue mission or you won’t have any friends left to retrieve.”
“She can’t just kill someone,” Shanna retorted. “That’s exactly what she wants. She wants Krystal to kill. Roma just wants to show her how easy it is, and give her that taste of power that she keeps going on about.”
Damien nodded. “And she’s saying that anyone is expendable, making them all look the same, that it doesn’t matter who dies to get what you want.”
Krystal blinked at him. “You think so? Is this really the first step to The Dark Side?”
“It’s certainly a step in that direction. Don’t you think?”
Ash snorted. “Sacrifices must be made in all wars. If she doesn’t want to choose one, I will.”
“No,” Krystal shook her head. “I can…maybe she underestimated me, but I can tell whose hair is in each doll.”
“You can?” Shanna looked impressed. “And this isn’t just a ruse? They actually are our friends’ hair?”
Krystal nodded, looking at the dolls from left to right as she listed them off. “Amelia, Steven, Quinn, Rachel, Jade and Hunter.”
“So they haven’t captured Natalia,” Shanna noted, tapping her lower lip. “That’s something, at least.”
“The civilian is clearly the most expendable,” Ash said, nodding to himself.
“You’re not killing Steven,” Krystal protested, glaring at him. “We can’t kill any of them.”
“Then just what do you propose we do?”
Krystal mulled over her options for a moment, but it didn’t seem like they had many. Either they kill a friend and save the rest of them, or let them all be sold off into personal hells. What choice did they have? But she didn’t want to give in to Roma. She couldn’t let her win and confirm that she had such…darkness within her. If she was going to walk away from this with her humanity intact, she had to stick to her principles. And that meant that she couldn’t let her friends die. Any of them.
“How do you undo a voodoo curse?” Krystal asked.
“You don’t,” Damien said matter-of-factly. “You have to obey the rules. It’s strong magick.”
Krystal looked at Ash, who nodded gravely in agreement. “I am sorry, Child. But it is the way of this magick.”
“I don’t accept that,” Krystal frowned.
“And you don’t have to,” a voice said from the door.
Krystal glared as she turned to the door to see Lupe staring in at them. “Come to gloat?”
Lupe snorted. “Look, I had to say that before. It allowed me the chance to come back to rescue you guys, didn’t it?” She grinned as she pushed aside the bars. “See?”
Damien blinked. “But Roma won’t be fooled twice. She’ll know what you did.”
“And so she will,” Lupe shrugged. “I’m tired of being someone’s dog. I’m more of an…independent kind of girl.”
“Really?” Damien crossed his arms. “And I suppose you’ll want me to put in a good word with Samantha Cummings about this?”
Lupe smirked. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Uh huh.”
Krystal watched the others file out of the room, but hesitated, looking back at the voodoo dolls. “But what are we supposed to do about the dolls? We can’t just leave them or she’ll smash them.”
“And we can’t take them either,” Shanna nodded. She turned to Lupe. “Any bright ideas?”
Lupe considered for a moment. “You can negate her magick over your friends by holding power over her yourself.”
Ash scoffed. “Yeah? And just how do you think we can do that?”
“A lock of hair will do.”
Krystal frowned and turned to Shanna. “I can do that.”
Shanna considered for a moment. “Are you sure? This is a dangerous game we’re playing here. If you can’t do it like you say, Roma will smash those dolls without a second thought.”
“I know,” Krystal acknowledged. “But I have to do it. The only other option is to give in and let her have the upper hand.”
With a sigh, Shanna nodded. “Alright. What do you want us to do?”
“Nothing, just wait a moment.”
Krystal closed her eyes and felt her power stirring within her. Tendrils of necromancy slithered from her like coils of tentacles, reaching through the mansion hungrily. She felt a rush as the power surged through her, reveling in how big it made her feel, how omnipotent. She could feel Roma’s power as well as she came across it, but it was
n’t the waves of tendrils that Krystal commanded. Roma’s power was more like strings of yarn, fragile and weak. Krystal was much more powerful than she gave her credit for. Underestimating her would be Roma’s downfall.
She identified Roma by her hair, already learning a thing or two from the evil necromancer. And there were two vampires in her company, as well as a zombie.
“Easy enough,” Krystal thought to herself, and she took control of the bigger vampire’s body. With one quick movement, she had him knock out the other vampire and yank back Roma’s hair.
Roma cried out and reached out with her powers instinctively, but her thin little thread of necromancy barely registered against the coils of power Krystal had wrapped around the vampire. When Roma realized this, her eyes narrowed.
Krystal felt hands go around her neck suddenly, but they were quickly pried off of her. Of course. Roma had tried to use Damien to take her out quickly. She should have seen that coming, but no matter – the others had taken care of that situation and restrained him.
Krystal laughed as she felt the vampire she controlled put his hand around Roma’s neck. One squeeze and it would all be over. She felt the fear radiating from Roma and hesitated. Of course this was the path that Roma was pointing her down. A dark path of death. If she allowed herself to kill even an evil creature like Roma, she would be setting herself down that path. She was at a crossroads, and she could choose her direction.
Reluctantly, she had the vampire release Roma’s neck. Roma gasped and sneered, as if preparing for some sort of assault, but Krystal wasn’t done quite yet. She pulled back on Roma’s hair again, yanking hard with one hand as the other braced her head. Roma screamed as a strand of long dark hair was pulled from her bleeding scalp, cursing loudly as the vampire rushed away, reeled in by Krystal’s power like a fish on a line.
“It’s done,” Krystal announced, opening her eyes. And a moment later, the vampire she’d controlled had arrived, handing over a strand of Roma’s hair to Krystal. She accepted it and held onto it by the tips that weren’t dripping blood onto the floor.
Ash chuckled. “Let me take it, girl.”
Not about to argue, Krystal handed it over to him.
Hurried footsteps could be heard approaching as Ash said some magickal words under his breath. Then he held the lock of hair over a green fire he’d created in his other hand. When Roma appeared, she stopped short ahead of her guard of loup-garous and vampires, staring at the hair held threateningly over the fire.
“So, this is how it’s going to be,” she said, disappointment clear in her voice.
“It is,” Krystal agreed.
Roma watched her for a moment, then glanced back at a loup-garous with blonde fur. “Carla, bring me the dolls. And be careful.”
The loup-garous complied, going into the other room.
As they waited, Roma turned her eyes on Lupe. “And what a disappointment you are. Scarlet held you in such high esteem. I never understood her fascination with you, and after this, you are done.”
Lupe’s face was unreadable as she listened to her, and she showed no sign of having been affected by her speech.
The blonde loup-garous soon reappeared, bringing all six dolls out with her.
Roma said words over each doll in turn before spitting on them and breaking the porcelain in her fist. Krystal watched her nervously, hoping that she wasn’t watching her friends die in turn.
Ash didn’t seem concerned however, so she had faith that Roma was actually breaking the spell over each doll.
After she was done, she handed six strands of hair to Krystal. Krystal took them carefully and handed them off to Shanna, who tucked them into an inner pocket of her coat. Then she gave Roma back her strand of hair, after Ash relinquished it with a sigh.
After the exchange had taken place, Krystal and Roma stared at one another for a moment.
“Well played, Krystal,” Roma said. “But I don’t think this is over. You are more powerful than I ever could have imagined, and that power will overwhelm you soon. It will take the reins from you one day. And I hope on that day, you seek my counsel.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to remain disappointed,” Krystal returned. “I know who I am, and the darkness holds no appeal to me.”
Roma didn’t reply, but watched silently as Krystal followed her friends from the dungeon. They passed several rooms with bars locking them tight, unoccupied, none of them as nice as the quarters that they had been given. Shortly, those rooms gave way to heavy wooden doors covered with iron bars and reinforced with chains. Krystal could feel dead flesh behind these doors without even trying.
She watched the doors as they walked by them, Shanna and Damien keeping an eye on the back of the group, while Ash and Serene watched the front. There were scorch marks in the door, as if labeling them. The first one had one line, the second had two. As they proceeded, Krystal realized that they were roman numerals. She thought about the dead that she knew the doors hid from them, wondering what sort of things an evil necromancer would deem too horrible for people to see that she had to hide them.
And then she saw XIII. She stiffened as she took in the images painted on the door beside the numerals, that of two crows, their wings open wide as if soaring in the sky. She stopped in front of the door abruptly, earning a protest from Shanna, who bumped into her.
“Krystal?” the hunter asked, glancing at her before turning to look back up the hallway. “What is it? We have to keep moving here.”
Krystal frowned at the door, staring at the crows, at their black eye with dabs of light paint to give them the semblance of life.
“The crows are not what they appear.”
“This is what she meant,” she murmured. She stepped up to the door and ran her fingers over the roman numerals, then the crows. “But who are you?” She closed her eyes and concentrated on what lay beyond the door, and was surprised to find that its fingers were in the exact same spot as hers on the other side of the heavy Oak. And she couldn’t quite get a fix on it. It was dead, and she got bits and pieces of it that seemed to add up to one horrible shape, but the full picture wouldn’t fall into place.
“Krystal,” Shanna’s voice held a tone of warning.
Krystal opened her eyes and looked up the hall to see that Roma had followed them there. And the necromancer was watching her with interest.
Swallowing hard, Krystal pulled herself from the door and let Shanna usher her away. As she moved away from the door, a thunderous pound resounded through the corridor, echoing loudly. It had come from the other side of the door.
Roma’s face turned up into a smile. “I think he likes you.”
Krystal stared back at her, only looking away when Shanna leaned over and whispered “Come on” into her ear. Nodding, she complied, allowing herself to be navigated out of the house and back toward the caves that was their original destination. No one came after them, and Shanna smiled at Krystal, basking in their victory. “We did it.”
But Krystal couldn’t help but wonder about the creature behind the thirteenth door, and run her own words through her head. “I know who I am, and the darkness holds no appeal to me.”
She liked the ring of the words, and the confidence in which she spoke them. Even if it was a lie.