Before the Storm

by Claire Ashgrove

  Scratch that. I probably didn’t want to know.

  Yet as much as I hoped to remain ignorant, Marcus headed straight for that yellow-orange glow. He stopped just at the arching stone that opened into a wider cavern and flattened his back to the wall. Leaning into Kale and I, he whispered, “Holding up okay?”

  I was, other than the churning of my stomach. But a quick glance at Kale had my heartbeat slowing in dread. His face was ghostly white, and he leaned against the wall like he might give over to exhaustion at any minute. I grabbed his forearm, concern lacing my lungs together tight. “Kale?”

  “Hm?” With a shake of his head, his glazed expression cleared. “Did you say something?”

  From the corner of my eye, I caught Marcus’s sharp frown. He watched Kale for a moment, then seemingly deciding there was nothing to be concerned about, he leaned back against the wall. “This is where we go down, right, Kale?”

  “I don’t think so.” Kale glanced around the corridor, frowning. He pointed further down the way. “That one. The old shaft.”

  Marcus shot him a dumbfounded look. “The old shaft leads to the cells.”

  “No, it goes to the lair.”

  Again, Marcus studied him, his gaze searching for Kale’s face in a way that made the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end. “We’re going this way.” He took me by the wrist and tugged me around the bend.

  Kale followed, a slight wobble in his gait.

  “He shouldn’t be here,” I whispered to Marcus. Whatever blow he’d taken to the head with that gigantic demon was more serious than he wanted to let on.

  “His mind’s made up.”

  And how well I knew his stubborn streak. He could make a mule look like an amateur. I let out a harassed sigh.

  Clank, clank, clank. The surrounding racket made my head pound. As we drew closer to the mouth of the bright maw, I spotted fat chains chugging vertically in front of us. Thick chains that could have pulled a fully loaded freight train—I’d never seen links so big.

  Then a wooden cargo box rose into view, loaded down with huge chunks of rock. Not coal, not stones that glittered with embedded gems or precious metals. Plain ass grey rock. Marcus tapped Kale’s elbow and gestured at the rising crate. Kale nodded, but otherwise didn’t react. I would have asked, but nearby voices kept me silent.

  “Shit,” Marcus muttered and quickened his stride.

  My already tense nerves tightened even more. I moved faster, following Marcus as he ushered us along the narrow route, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to make sure Kale still followed. To our right, a stone wall framed us in. To the left, we walked the rim of a drop off. Precarious to say the least. Another wobble out of Kale, and he could slip right over the edge.

  The voices disappeared, but so did the path we followed. We came to a stop in front of a thick pile of rubble. Great. We’d taken a wrong turn after all.

  Or maybe not. Marcus hurriedly waved me forward. What in the…

  My heart skidded to a stop as he pointed at two fat knots wrapped around iron stakes that had been driven into the ground. I leaned ever-so-slightly toward the ledge then recoiled. No way, no how, was I scaling a rope ladder. Particularly not one that seemed to go on forever. What the hell was it doing here anyway?

  I gave Marcus an adamant shake of my head.

  He pointed to himself, then me, then Kale.

  Again, I vehemently shook my head. “Not in a hundred years,” I whispered.

  “Listen,” he countered.

  I waited for him to continue. Instead, he rolled his eyes and gestured at the corridor behind us. It hit me then, the faint but unmistakable sound of boots. Two or three pair.

  Memory hit me hard. Kale had said we had to eliminate the first round of guards before we came to the old cart tunnel. Once we did, we’d be safe until the first bridge. I glanced down at my feet, and noticed holes set at precise intervals all the way back as far as I could see. Indentations large enough to contain spikes like the ones that held the ladder, which resembled old track spikes. We must be standing in the old cart tunnel; they had to have pulled up the track since Kale’s capture. And the guards—Marcus had kept us out of a fight by knowing when they’d be there and when they wouldn’t. Only they had to return. Those boots must belong to those men.

  We hadn’t taken a wrong turn. Much as I wanted to avoid that damned ladder, we had to go down. Fuck. I despised heights.

  Annoyed, I signaled for Marcus to go ahead. He dropped to a crouch, pivoted, and stepped down. In seconds, the top of his dark head disappeared. My turn. Ugh.

  I wasn’t nearly as graceful. I had to lie on my stomach and edge my toes off until I felt the coiled cross pieces. Then I wriggled backward, lowering myself slowly. When it came time to grab onto the rope, it shifted hard to the left, nearly dislodging me. I stifled a squeak and clutched the knots in a death grip. Time moved in slow motion as I waited for the ladder to stop swaying. With each twitch and jerk, I vowed to deal Marcus physical damage when we escaped this foul-smelling place.

  Eventually, I made it onto the ladder and descended like molasses. Kale dropped on rather easily, but looking up at him only made my stomach twist harder. He pulled each hand free with deliberate, jerky motions. He wasn’t fluid as he lowered each foot, more like it took conscious effort to execute the simple motion. Like he moved through tar that threatened to suck him down.

  If he fell on me…

  I descended faster.

  When my feet hit hard ground, I backed away from the ladder with a deep, relieved breath. Marcus gave me a congratulatory clap on the shoulder, and I glanced at him to find him grinning.

  I might have grinned too, if I wasn’t so worried about Kale. My gaze skipped back to him. His efforts had slowed. He was only halfway down and had started out three rungs behind me. I pointed up to where he hung on.

  Marcus’s grin faded. He took two steps toward the ladder. Kale’s foot slipped. As his weight pulled him sideways, the rope swung violently. Horrified, I clapped my hands over my mouth. He couldn’t fall. Please, God, no.

  Marcus grabbed the swaying rope and held on tight. Slowly, it leveled out, settling into a few jerky bounces as Kale managed to recover his footing. He started down again, his pace far more natural.

  These dizzy spells of his—I vowed to deal him physical harm as well.

  When he finally made it all the way down, he collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily. Marcus and I reached his side as his knees buckled. With both of us supporting one elbow, we helped him ease into a sitting position.

  “Stay here a minute,” Marcus instructed.

  Kale nodded and closed his eyes.

  Backing away, Marcus motioned for me to follow. I gave Kale one last worried look then complied. We turned a small bend. Before us, the path branched in two with a gaping, deep, V-shaped gouge in between. The leftmost route led to a dark, arching tunnel. The right hugged the wide wall of the cavern and formed a mezzanine, more or less. Doorways looked out onto the smooth path, the closest less than thirty feet away.

  A shadow moved across one, and Marcus pushed me back into the alcove with Kale.

  The first bridge. Kale had said we’d be clear until here. No wonder. If anyone in those rooms spotted us, we’d never make it down the other bridge without a full alarm being sounded.

  Marcus crouched down and motioned me closer. I joined him, one knee resting on the ground.

  “We’re close. We’ve had good luck so far. If we can find your mom before anyone discovers us, we should only have to deal with her. You hanging in there okay?”

  I nodded, once again fingering the cuffs. “What about what you needed? You were going to slip off for a few.”

  His brows furrowed as he murmured, “Don’t worry about it. Let’s finish what we came here for.” He nodded toward Kale. “I don’t dare leave you two to deal with her on your own. He’s not doing well.”

  “He shouldn’t ha
ve come,” I mumbled. “You and I could have made a different route, grabbed that stone, and then worked together.”

  Marcus’s frown hardened. “Don’t be so hard on him, Halle. It’s this place. Neither of us expected he’d have such a difficult time.”

  “This place?” Not a bump on the head? I squinted at Marcus, confused.

  “I’ll explain later. Let’s get this done.” He started to rise.

  I caught him by the pant leg and tugged him back down. “What do they use that ladder for?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing, by the amount of dust that was on it when I climbed down.”

  “Are Kale and I safe here?”

  His gaze skipped around the deep recess, canvassing the high ceiling, the ladder, the ledge overhead, and the bend just behind us. “I can’t guarantee it. But if they don’t use that ladder, and you two can stay silent, I’d say it’s pretty slim anyone would happen onto you.”

  “Then go. Get what you need. I’ll wait here with Kale.”

  His expression filled with exasperation. “No. I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself.”

  I gave his shoulder a gentle push. “We’ll be fine. I’ll keep us hidden.” With a small grin, I waggled my fingers.

  Marcus eyed me, clearly debating. “I don’t like this.”

  “Look—” I set my hand over his “—you’ve gone out of your way to help me. You didn’t have to. Go get what you need. This isn’t just about me now.”

  He heaved a sigh, and his gaze pulled to the footpath. Slowly, it shifted back to me. “You feel comfortable enough with your magic?”

  “I’ve rested. I feel it deep inside. It’s stronger than last night. A lot.”

  “Halle—”

  “Go,” I insisted more firmly. “I’m a big girl, Marcus. I’m making this decision.”

  With one more reluctant glance, he finally consented and stood. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, get the hell out of here.”

  “Deal.” I could wait it out that long. My nerves might never unravel, but it was the least I could do after all Marcus’s help.

  He rounded the corner at a jog, his feet amazingly making barely a sound. Had it been me running, the entire world would have known I was here with my hard step. I looked back at Kale. Eyes still closed, he sagged against the wall at the foot of the ladder, his face now ashen. This place—what was it about these mines?

  Truly worried over what I didn’t understand, I moved to sit by his side. His hand fumbled at my leg, brushing my thigh. I slipped my fingers into his and squeezed. “We’re just taking a little break,” I murmured.

  He gave a weak nod and slunk down further against the wall.

  Minutes ticked by, each one seemingly slower than the last. How I was supposed to tell when fifteen minutes had passed, I didn’t know. But I guessed it would become obvious when my uncle’s band of non-living things took off after an uninvited guest. Kale’s grip turned cold and clammy, only worrying me more. But there was little I could do, and if these mines were the cause of his oddness, the only way to fix it was to get him out of here. So I shoved my growing concern to the far corner of my mind and tried not to think about the circumstances.

  After a little while, a sound floated to my ears. I cocked my head, listening. Singing? Surely not down here. And yet…

  A distinct melody carried through the cavernous tunnel. One I knew by heart. My mother had sung it to me every night as a child.

  My heart skipped several beats. I disentangled my hand from Kale’s, rose to my feet, and followed the lilting melody to the edge of the recessed hideaway. I had to be imagining things. Kale made my mother out to be some sort of monster. Monsters didn’t sing.

  I peeked around the bend and scanned both routes for traffic. Nothing occupied the bridge, and the mezzanine stood empty as well. Save for one open doorway, the rest remained closed. The melody grew more distinct, more clear in word and tune. It was most assuredly my mother’s voice. I took a tentative step forward. Then another. And another.

  Drawn like a magnet to that all-consuming memory, I approached the mezzanine and that open doorway. They had to be wrong about her. No monster sang so beautifully. Only my mom could. Sweet, gentle Mom, who’d be grateful when she was free of this place.

  My heart thundered in my ears as I approached the door. It slanted inward at an angle, hiding my approach. Visions of my mother tucking me in possessed me. Smoothing the hair away from my forehead with hands that were always gentle, bending down to kiss me goodnight. Wiggling her fingers at the entrance to my bedroom before she shut off the light. Oh, God, I missed her.

  I reached out and nudged the door open further. She stood in front of a counter on the opposite side, her long platinum hair tied back in a thick braid—the way she always wore it on housework days. While she worked at something on the countertop, that beautiful melody trilled from her throat. She turned to pull something from a cabinet, and I gasped at the glimpse of her profile. So many years had passed since I’d seen her face. Her smile. She didn’t look like any monster. She was still as lovely and angelic as the last time I’d seen her. Ethereal in a breathtaking way.

  I stepped into the doorway. My voice trembled like a scared little girl as I called out to her. “Mom?”

  Thirty-four

  My mother’s busy hands stilled, and she stopped singing. Yet she didn’t turn around. I took another step into her room and called again, “Mom? It’s me.”

  That got her attention. She pivoted in my direction.

  I braced for the onslaught of emotional greetings I’d fantasized for as long as I could remember. Mom rushing to me, her arms outstretched, her hug tight and full of never-ending comfort. She’d smooth a hand down my hair, lean back and take my face between her gentle hands, and gush, “I’ve missed you, sweetheart. So much.”

  But nothing like that happened. She didn’t hurry across the room to embrace me. She appeared. She must have moved, but she did so with such speed, my hair blew back in the breeze.

  And she didn’t embrace me. Instead, she grabbed me by the wrist and sharp nails dug painfully into my skin. I shrank away with a strangled cry.

  She answered with an unholy shriek. Her beautiful face transformed into a skeleton-like visage barely covered with taut skin. No warmth radiated in her eyes. No light reflected there at all. Just dark…nothingness.

  “Mom!” I pried at her hand to dislodge her grasp. “It’s me, Halle! Let me go, you’re hurting me.”

  Instead of the elation I had longed for, terror squeezed my heart. Kale had been wrong. She wasn’t a monster. She was worse than that. Demonic, evil…oh, God, I’d been such a fool.

  She dragged me closer, foul breath washing over my face. “Your timing is perfect.”

  Like a ragdoll, she jerked me across the room. The force of her tug pulled my shoulder at an awkward angle, and I wrenched sideways with a groan. Deep inside, my powers stirred to life. For an instant, I considered using them, but I couldn’t guarantee the outcome. I didn’t want to hurt her; she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

  I opted for logic, hoping if I said enough something would crack through whatever spell trapped her and she’d at least let go. “Mom, stop please. It’s Halle. I won’t hurt you. Someone’s put a spell on you. I’m here to help.”

  She wrenched harder on my arm and hissed in my face. “No, you won’t hurt me.” Laughing hollowly, she whipped me around and pressed my back to the wall. Her free hand crept to my throat. “But I’ll hurt you.”

  Her cackle chilled me to the bone. Maybe magic wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Something small. Just to throw her off long enough I could snap those cuffs on her wrists. I closed my eyes and let the power build.

  With an enraged shriek, she flung me aside. My knees hit a small table, and I toppled headfirst into the hard stone floor.

  “Games!” She let out a horrifying, girlish giggle. “I’ll go first!” In a flurry of movem
ent, she raised her arms above her head, chanting, then brought them down like a strike of lightning.

  Bone-shaking panic infused me. I lay there paralyzed by terror, all the while knowing I should get up, do something. Yet I could do no more than stare as she cackled.

  That sound, however, snapped me into action. Mustering my courage, I shoved to my knees and then to my feet. “Stop it! I’m your daughter. I don’t want to hurt you, Mom!” Seeking cover to buy myself time for my power to surface, I darted behind the large dining table.

  She approached on the other side, a grotesque smile twisting her mouth as she stretched a hand forth. Pale grey energy glowed on her fingertips. I took a step back. She lunged forward. Her icy-cold hand streaked across my cheek. My heart lurched, and my vision blurred. Weakness infused my knees. To keep from falling again, I clutched the edge of the table. God, what was she doing to me? She was my mother. Was there nothing left of her but a memory?

  She lunged again, and I shook off hesitation. With all the force I could summon, I shoved the table at her. It tipped sideways, scattering the surface contents. Glass shattered on the floor. Three heavy books went flying.

  Her gaze narrowed to vile, empty slits. “Gamesss,” she hissed, “are over. You’re mine.” Her skeletal hand shot forward again. Darkness oozed from the center of her palm. It surged across the barrier between us.

  For a moment, I thought she’d missed. But a heartbeat later, my skin began to burn like fire. I glanced down to find tiny splotches of blood seeping through my shirt. Shocked, I pulled my collar out to investigate my body. Tiny open sores covered my torso.

  Fucking hell—enough was enough! I didn’t want to harm her, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  With a lift of my palm, I gave my power freedom. Pale blue light shot from my hand. As it engulfed her, the particles of energy transformed into particles of ice. She lurched backward, shrieking in pain, swatting at her face and arms. My power answered her weakness with uncharacteristic might. It surged forward, demanding to be unleashed. I could end it all now. She wasn’t prepared for my attack, and with my gathered strength, I’d put her out of her misery forever.