by Unknown
The sun was getting lower in the sky as the day went on, not caring about our troubles in the least. Time was funny like that. It didn’t care about anyone’s problems but went on just the same. Even if the world seemed to be ending. It still marched onwards. I was beginning to think that it would be hopeless. My magic was almost as weak as it had been when I had first learned of it and that wasn’t saying much. I had drunk half a dozen concoctions and twice as many energy transfers to almost no avail.
There was a loud knock on the bedroom door. I turned my attention in time to see Rhys, shirtless, leaning against the doorjamb with that ever cocky grin plastered on his face.
“Come with me. You need to relax.” He was holding his hand out to me, waiting for me to accept the invitation. I did. I slipped my hand into his and let him pull me through the house, up the stairs and out onto the second floor balcony. He had potted plants and flowers cascading over the wrought iron that decorated the balcony. The streets were still nearly deserted, but it was a gorgeous, fall evening in New Orleans, the air damp and warm with only a hint of chill as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
“One day, I will have you all to myself and we’ll spend every evening out here, watching the sunset together.” Rhys wrapped his warm arms around me from behind and I spun into him. Such emotion was there displayed on his face that it nearly took my breath away just to see it.
“I think I’d like that very much.” I beamed up at him before closing the distance between us and kissing him with everything I had. It was almost physically painful to think about just how much time we had left to share. It wasn’t nearly enough. If we had forever, it still wouldn’t be enough.
“I love you, I need you to know that,” Rhys whispered on my lips, cradling my face gently between his palms.
“I love you. too, forever, no matter what.” It was a promise, that no matter what was to come, I would always love him and my heart would always be his. For the first time in my life, I meant it with my whole being.
He slid his hands lower and cupped my bottom. He lifted me like I weighed nothing and carried me into his room. He laid me down on his bed with the most care a large man such as he could. We would spend the next few hours we had left together, entangled in each other.
Chapter SIXTEEN
Fighting Dirty
The sun had just set, disappearing below the horizon, when we met Arlen outside Pirate’s Alley, next to the St. Louis Cathedral. A few tourists were weaving in and out of the shops in Jackson Square. It seemed like, even if they were unknowing and ignorant to the goings on, they could sense it and made sure they were out of its way. The city was waiting on pins and needles and it didn’t even know why.
“Ready?” Arlen asked, pulling his glowing stick from his coat.
I nodded. He’d told me what it was called, but it turns out, I can’t pronounce anything Fae and so it remains, the glowing stick.
He placed the stick about a foot above the ground, flush to the brick wall, and began whispering an ancient language. His movements resembled the writings of some kind of rune. Everything was electrified as his chanting continued. The air was even different, energizing almost as it prickled over my skin. The bricks began to glow the same color as the instrument he carried and shifted about to reveal a well-worn stone staircase that disappeared into the dark abyss below. I could hear the stones continuing to shift and turn down in the caverns below, making way for our arrival. I briefly worried about spiders and eyed the hole with some mild apprehension before I realized how trivial it was and pushed the irrational fear aside. I had bigger fish to fry.
“You ready?” I asked the men, who adjusted the bags they carried and their belts about themselves; they were armed to the teeth.
I cleared my mind and focused on the familiar gathering of energy between my hands. It took a moment, but that prickle under my skin started to spread, feeding the light that was gathering in my cupped palms. It grew in time with my heartbeat, pulsating and burgeoning with each thud.
With my hand held out before me, we descended into the darkness of New Orleans’ underbelly. Arlen guided me at my left. He knew which way to go. The narrow passageway was only wide enough for two people to walk side by side comfortably and, at times, that was pushing it. Rhys was close behind. Both men were ready for any kind of ambush that could be waiting for us down there, concealed in the shadows.
Long corridors of damp, musty, stone walls greeted us. The dirt floors were more mud than dirt with the water table being so high. We turned down several off-shooting corridors. Thank the gods for Arlen, we would have been hopelessly lost without his knowledge guiding us. About twenty minutes later, we were at a fork in the tunnel and Arlen was taking much more time than he had previously to decide which way to go.
“I think we’re lost,” I said grimly. That would be just our luck.
“We’re not lost,” Arlen said adamantly, still appearing a bit flustered by our current predicament. “I just don’t remember this divergence. It should’ve been a straight shot after the last turn.”
I moved my hand back and forth in front of the two pathways, unsure of which to take. Concentrating as hard as I could, I pushed my mind outwards, seeking down one hallway and then the other.
The tunnel to the right made me uneasy. It went only a short distance and ended at a wooden door, but it felt like something was there with me. Something was watching me as I progressed down the way. Whatever it was just felt…off. I pulled back quickly and shook my head.
“No, something isn’t right. I’d stake my life on it. There’s something down there and I don’t want to find out what it is,” I told Arlen and Rhys, tipping my head towards the right corridor. I hoped we would have better luck down the other way.
The left most corridor seemed to go on forever. My magic stretched and felt its way along the walls for several blocks, concealed by the city streets above. Almost three blocks down the way, the tunnel ended, just a dead stop. When I turned back the way I’d come, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. I stared directly at it, moving closer, but saw nothing. I tried a second time. A chink in the stone wall could easily be seen when viewed peripherally at an angle, but disappeared entirely when viewed straight on. Pushing closer, I tried to feel beyond the barrier. This was it. It had to be.
When I opened my eyes, both men had their hands on my arms, waiting with bated breaths for whatever kind of new information I could provide. I gave the men a small nod and a brief smile before I flung myself into action, taking off at a brisk pace down the left wing. My jeans and shoes soaked through as I ran through near on a dozen puddles laying stagnant. After a moment, my chest was heaving, trying to drag precious air into my lungs while my sides burned from exertion and the scabs across my back stung from too much movement. The end of the tunnel came to an abrupt end and I searched around for the seam in the stones to find a way to get it open.
I threw myself against the thick stone, hoping that somehow my sheer force and determination would make it budge. Rhys stepped up next to me, confusion written in his expression.
“There’s a door here!”
Rhys didn’t wait for further explanation and cast aside his backpack before he started pushing against the barricade next to me. Even with two people pushing as hard as we could, the doorway wouldn’t budge from its long stuck position.
“Stop. Step back a bit.” Arlen was mildly amused, and moved up to the wall when we stood back. He placed his bare hands against the facade this time and began to whisper to it in the ancient tongue of his people, without his handy instrument to aid him. The stone groaned in protest, making loud scraping sounds as they ground against each other to form another entranceway.
I took the lead once again, igniting a small flame in my palm instead of my more familiar orb to lessen the possibility of being noticed. Not waiting for the men, I started forward while they scampered over to pick up their packs that were set up against the wall.
Almos
t three feet into a large stone room, the grating of stones echoed and I spun in time to see the wall closing up before my eyes.
“Maya!” Both men hurried to move the stones out of their way, fighting to get to my side of the fast closing wall.
“Rhys. Arlen!” I screamed, running to the entrance in an attempt to make it back to them. Getting split up wouldn’t end well for us and we knew it.
“Maya! Watch-,” Rhys’s voice was cut off as the last brick slid into place, cutting us off from each other.
There was a sudden sharp pain in the side of my neck, as someone grabbed me from behind. I started to scream when a large, hairy, calloused hand clamped down over my mouth like a vice. All of my struggling to break free of the man holding me was in vain. His arms were like steel, he wouldn’t budge. A warm sensation spread throughout my body, making everything feel fuzzy and heavy at the same time. My ears were ringing and my legs refused to hold me up any longer. I started to fall to the floor. If not for the thick arms around me I would’ve kept falling into a bottomless pit. The abyss swallowed me up.
My head was pounding when I finally reached consciousness again. It felt like sand, rough and gritty, had been poured down my throat, making it nearly impossible to swallow. My body was stiff, yet no more abused than it had been previously. My vision still blurred, although was slowly clearing or at least I thought it was. The room was completely dark. It lacked any windows. I tried to sit up. The hard, cold stone beneath left me feeling damp and chilled to the bone. Lifting my hand to wipe the grogginess and dust from my eyes. The distinct sound of metal moving against stone, paired with being incapable of lifting my arm above the shoulder, gave me pause. My wrists were weighed down by thick, metal shackles.
Struggling to my knees, I grabbed at one of the cuffs encircling my wrist. I followed it. I felt my way up a thick chain that hung from a welded link on the cuff. It was the same on both wrists. They were chained together by the same bindings running through an anchor. My head cleared pretty quickly after that. Remembering the cell phone, I’d hidden in my boot, I made to reach for it but stopped abruptly when baritone speech filtered through the door. Men’s voices filtered into the dark room from a short distance away. It smelled musty, wet, and distinctly of decay. My damp jeans solidified that assumption. If I had to guess at that moment, I would have said that I was in a room that very much resembled a castle’s dungeon.
“Ahh, you’re awake. Very good.” A deep, gravelly, male voice said from only a few feet away.
Startled, I shoved back against the wall as far as I could, straining my eyes to try to make out who was there. I thought I caught a glimpse of white against the pitch black of the room, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Wh-Who are you? What do you want?” My voice was hoarse and raspy from a lack of saliva; I needed water badly.
Suddenly, the lights were flipped on and I was blinded by a tidal wave of LED laboratory style bulbs. The shock of it physically hurt, leaving me squeezing my eyes tightly shut, trying to get rid of the colorful spots that were decorating the inside of my eyelids. A minute or two of squinting and I could make out the man standing before me. Upon closer inspection, he was really familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before. He was tall and lean with light brown hair that was perfectly gelled into submission. His crisp, tailored suit screamed that he was a powerful man and wanted to prove it to the world.
“Are you Drake?”
He smiled, and pulled up an industrial metal chair before me to take a seat in. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and crossed one ankle over the other knee and leaned back casually. “It’s nice to see that you have heard of me and all the work that we have done. It’s quite an accomplishment, really. A real feat of wills.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want to call murdering innocent people in cold blood.”
His outburst of laughter gave me pause. I hadn’t realized that I had spoken that out loud. Shit. Making a maniac laugh was never a good thing. It always ended badly. The cold contemplation on his face was familiar. The same one I’d seen on Brad. Upon closer inspection, I could see a resemblance between the two men. It dawned on me then where I’d seen him before. The day at the zoo in the reptile house. This was the man who had been there watching me, the one who had given me the creeps.
“Casualties of war, nothing more.” His offhand way of speaking about so many people that he had killed pissed me off. I could see it in his eyes, he had no soul and if he did, it had long since been blackened by his dark magic rituals.
Rituals take a toll on every person that is involved, leaving marks on the very make-up of that person. Over time it changes you, depending on what kind of magic practiced, that can either be for better or for worse.
“What about my parents? Hmm? Were they just casualties of war, too?” The anger that bubbled to the surface knocked the breath right out of me. If I had any qualms about ending his life, I rid myself of them in that very moment. I would kill him the first chance I got, justice for my parents and all of those innocent victims, like Carly, demanded it.
Drake’s face darkened at the mention of my parents. “No, they were much more…personal.” He didn’t say more, but his tone spoke volumes. Had he known them?
I tried to gather my magic to the surface. My head hurt, but within seconds, the sensation of my magic coursing through me had abated it. I focused on the locks that hung about my wrists, specifically on the intricate locking mechanisms within. They had to be pushed in a fashion and maneuvered into unlocking, but as soon as I tried to adjust the inner-most one, shooting pain rocked through me, making me scream in agony as I felt like I was being ripped to shreds. Blood seeped from my nose, spotting the dirt and stones that made up the floor.
Drake bent over and grabbed my head by my hair and lifted my face to meet his gaze. Panting, trying to recover myself from the anguish, I winced as his grasp tightened.
“Best not try that again. It won’t work. The locks have been spelled. I promise, every precaution has been taken with care.” He slapped my cheek like I was a petulant child being gently reminded of my place, and stood tall to re-button his jacket and smooth away any wrinkles. “I have some minor business to attend to, but rest assured, I will be with you shortly and we can get this show underway.”
His eyes lit up when he spoke about what was coming. It made my stomach turn. He turned and made his way slowly and surely to the thick wooden door and slipped out. The sound of a deadbolt being slid into place echoed off of the surfaces surrounding me. There was no way out, at least, none that I could readily see.
Twinges still plagued me as a reminder of what would happen should I try to attempt an escape again. Where were Rhys and Arlen? Had they been captured too? This entire mission was looking altogether grimmer than it had when we had first set out that morning.
Static reverberated loudly through the room, followed by blood curdling screams, whimpers, and begging for the woman’s life. It was Angie. I searched wildly about the room, trying to determine its source when I spotted the familiar brown box high in the corner of the room where it was anchored to the wall. Her screams were being broadcast over an old PA system.
“Angie!” I screamed with everything I had in me, over and over again, hoping that by some miracle, she could hear me and be okay. I needed to get to her. Her jarring cries of agonizing pain rang loudly in my ears while I tried to jerk free of my bindings. I’d have to brave trying the shackles again.
“I’m coming for you,” I whispered to Angie. I knew she couldn’t hear me, but I meant it like she could anyways. Her screams were cut off abruptly, the silence spurring me to action. I returned my focus to the locked cuffs and their individual mechanisms. It didn’t take long for the itch of my magic coursing through me to become white hot pain. Doubling my efforts, blood pouring from my nose, I grappled with the floor to find something to help bear the burden of unlocking them. I couldn’t think of anything but the burning and it made it impossible to move t
he locks the way they would need to in order to spring free.
Slumping to the floor, feeling defeated and near death, I choked on my own life force as it spilled out with hacking coughs. I let my eyes fall shut, trying to escape the nightmarish prison I’d found myself in. My cheeks were dampened with the tears that had streamed down my face as I tried my hardest not to make a sound. Gentle fingers brushed my cheek, pushing the hair back from my face. I wasn’t ready to face Drake again, but I didn’t remember hearing the door open either. I cracked a single eye open, afraid to see Drake standing there, or worse Rhys putting his life on the line again. Never in a million years did I expect to see the person who knelt at my side, full of love and hope.
It was my mom.
She was stunning, in a yellow sundress that complimented her exotic coloring and dark brown hair. She glowed from the inside out.
“Mom? Is that really you?” I whispered. I feared breaking the silence would break whatever hallucination it was and I would once again be dying and alone.
“Yeah baby, I’m here. You need to get up, baby girl. You have people counting on you.”
I coughed hard one more time, staining my face and the ground with more blood. I was dying. I could feel the life slowly draining from me.
“I’m scared, Mom. I’m really scared.”
She lay down next to me and stroked my hair just like she used to do when I was little and couldn’t sleep.
“I know, but you’re not alone, Maya. We’re here with you. You need to get back up though, and try again.”