I remained mute. Curie began to recite it anyway, and I could not understand a word, until the translation started to play in my head. What the hell was happening? The translation played out like this:
“I am the One who invades your sleep in the night
I shroud you darkness, and keep you from light
I drink every drop of blood you have bled
I won’t be content until you lay dead
And when you are dead, with all good things denied
Your soul is damned, and forever, is mine.
Finally, Curie turned to me. “Your answer, girl.”
I elected to speak. Whether or not that was a good idea, I couldn’t say for certain. Perhaps, facing my oblivion, I didn’t care at this point.
“I’d say it was some kind of Satanic script. Then again, it could all be a load of crap.”
Curie smiled the strangest of half-smiles whilst Troy looked on, horrified. Troy looked as if he was going to say something, but Curie dismissed him with a wave.
“Either you know what it means, and you aren’t telling me, or you don’t know what it means. I don’t care. You’ve got spirit, I’ll say that for you. But that Mirror does not belong to you. Tell me how you came by it, and I’ll make sure your death – finally – isn’t so painful.”
As I lay there, I began to understand why Curie was so tormented. Here, in the house of Diabhal, everyone Curie had murdered, followed him around the house. Was the demon showing me this, or was I in a higher state of consciousness?
I refused to say anything. I mean, it was over. I had failed. I was strapped down on some makeshift altar, like I was going to be sacrificed or something. That seemed to be the general idea.
Curie probed my chin with his knife. A little blood trickled.
“Look over my left shoulder. You see that axe?” Oh, I did see it. It was huge. Curie continued. “I’ll bring it down in one smooth swing, down on your pretty neck, and then, it will be over.
I feel for you, I really do. You really shouldn’t have been burdened with something like that Mirror. Whoever gave you it must have been very, very bad. Tell me, and I will make it easy for you. There’s no reprieve this time. You will be dead. Dead. Dead.”
“What do you say, girl? Speak!”
I looked straight into his cold eyes. “You can go to hell, hell, hell.”
Curie looked at Troy. “How you ever found this attractive is beyond me, boy. Where’s the witch or the Jesus lover?”
“It didn’t quite work out the way I hoped,” said Troy. “There were other things at play. Zombies. Long dead ghosts that can’t be killed.”
“Dana?” said Curie excitedly.
“Yeah. Dana,” said Troy. “Either she is gone, for real this time, or the zombie gals all won. Who knows? I’ve been here all this time.”
“You should have brought one of the others with you. We can’t use the Mirror.”
“Why not?”
“Stupid boy. Only females can handle it. Men can’t touch it, I don’t know why. It’s just the way it is, and has always been. Before you say anything – not her. She’s too powerful for this. Anyone but her.”
Curie actually seemed depressed as he said it.
“How can I help?” asked Troy.
“You can do it.”
“I can do what? You already said the Mirror can’t be used by men. Give it to her.”
“Forget about her for now. This is much more important. You can kill Dana for me.”
“I may be a bit dense,” said Troy, “but everyone knows that Dana can’t be killed.”
“Look around you, boy. Do you think this place is a museum? These weapons are tools for killing that which cannot be killed.”
He picked up a crossbow and threw it at Troy, who caught it with ease.
“A bow and arrow? Do I look like Robin Hood to you?”
“You forget your place, boy. Just aim, pull back, and let the arrow fly. You’ll get only one chance. Take this axe as well, just in case. Don’t miss, or she’ll break your body in half.”
Troy turned out into the blistering snow, completely oblivious to his surroundings.
Curie decided he had no more use for Troy. He was sending him to his death.
* * *
The girls had reached the edge of the Forest. Ahead, lay their town, their homes, and relative safety.
Toril and Beth were fitter than Jacinta. They had been running so hard that they had momentarily forgotten where each of them were.
Looking behind, Toril wanted to shout out Jacinta’s name, but did not want to alert the demons in the forest that pursued them, of their whereabouts.
She was still breathing heavily, but had enough energy to gesture Beth to be silent when she started to say ‘Where’s Jac-”
“We made it,” said Toril. “But she didn’t.”
“You’re not suggesting we stay here, are you?” said Beth.
“Not exactly. But going back in, isn’t an option. We stay here until we can stay no longer. I’m not abandoning our friends.”
“What about Rom- I mean, you know who?”
“She’s in grave danger, and my boyfriend….is working for them. I’m working on a spell for her.”
“I don’t like any of this, Toril.”
Toril glared at Beth as the forest howled her name. “For my sake, be quiet will you?!”
Beth was rather chatty, but Toril knew she didn’t mean any harm. Beth chastised herself for not understanding the gravity of the situation, or felt the pressure Toril was under.
“I’m trying to save them, don’t you see? Mistakes like the one you just made, costs lives, you must know that.”
“I’m really sorry.”
Beth was sorry, but it was more about feeling helpless. Just why had she been sent back from the dead? To heal? Pathetic. Toril could read minds, cast spells, even keep the likes of Curie at bay.
Beth, on the other hand, felt she could do nothing.
“I’m a real motormouth I know, just I want to-”
Toril waved in front of Beth and she felt her lips go dry, and then, fuse together. Toril had sealed her mouth shut.
Beth jumped up and down frantically but Toril turned away from her. She needed to think about how to save me. She kept getting an image in her head that I was strapped down to something, or restrained in some way. She was correct, of course, but even if she could free me, Curie was in the room next door. I was dead, whichever way you cut it.
Toril hadn’t succeeded in keeping Beth subdued, so she reluctantly sent a Freeze Spell in her direction.
Beth stood motionless, whilst Toril tried to formulate a plan.
Whilst a plan started to hatch in her mind, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Jacinta had returned, but was not alone.
* * *
Spinning round, Toril could only see blackness in front of her.
“You’re there, I know you are. Where ever have you been?”
Toril got an instant answer as Dana swooped into view.
“With her,” gasped Jacinta.
Dana didn’t look the same as before. Her face looked rather drawn. “I was delayed. Fighting zombies. Because of you,” Dana said accusingly.
“Well,” said Toril, “I hope you won at least.”
“Won? Lost? What matter. You’ll all be dead soon anyway.”
“That remains to be seen,” said Toril.
“I could kill you as easily as I killed them,” said Dana.
“That’s if you actually did kill them,” said Toril. “You know I can get rid of you just as easily. Do you want to play that game? Really?”
Toril was half-bluffing. Dana stayed or went in a manner of her own choosing, and everyone knew that. Still, Toril wasn’t about to back down until Dana released her hands from Jacinta’s throat.
“You know the rules,” said Dana. “I’ve been summonsed to kill. Now your friend tells me there’s no one to kill after all.”
As soon as Dana finished speaking Toril received a vision in her head. Dana was there, saying that all she wanted was to rest, have peace, and not kill any more.
Toril struggled to process this new information. She could not believe that Dana would give up her killing ways, just like that.
“Why shouldn’t I kill her? Huh? Answer me!” snapped Dana. Toril was back in reality once more.
“Because….because, you won’t,” said Toril. “After you do a kill, you’re vulnerable until you get back to the chasm where you rest. Kill my friend, and you know you will never get back there again. I’ll see to it that you don’t.”
Dana shrugged and relaxed her grip. Jacinta spluttered and retched on the ground.
Toril helped Jacinta up, who looked at her and said “I knew you’d save me. Holmes always looks after Watson, right?”
Toril wanted to say something back in kind, but there was no time.
Dana screamed as the axe, one she recognised all too well, flew towards her. Troy had found his quarry, and hurled it quite some distance. As the school javelin champion, he wasn’t likely to miss.
Dana moved quickly, but not quick enough, and sreamed in pain as the blade caught her shoulder.
The axe continued onwards, and before Toril could do anything, the spinning blade buried itself in Jacinta’s back.
The Devil Within
Clasping the still frozen Beth, and Jacinta, to her body, Toril uttered a displacement spell. She didn’t know where they would end up, but that they simply had to get away from Troy, Dana and the Forest.
Toril heard Dana’s damnation ringing in her ears as she and her friends moved to apparent safety.
They had arrived by The Dying Swan, a local pub and restaurant. Although too young to go in, Toril had been in there once before. Back then, she had wore some heavy make-up and could have passed for someone at least twenty-one years old.
This time, she doubted she would get past the door. She did not want to unfreeze Beth just now, but only because she wanted to shield her from the uncomfortable truth.
Jacinta had been fatally wounded.
* * *
If Jacinta was to have any chance at all, it lay with the Mirror, which was now far from Toril’s possession.
I was strapped to a table – a sacrificial altar, if you will, and was completely helpless. If Curie wanted to do something to me, I was powerless to do anything about it.
I was a worm trapped in his raven’s beak.
Next door, I could hear blades being sharpened against a lathe. Whatever time I had left on this earth, it wasn’t going to be much.
If only, if only I could get to the Mirror.
* * *
Toril was attempting to communicate with me, I could feel it, but I could not decode the message. Maybe she needed the Mirror, but I couldn’t help her with that, even if I wanted to.
The dark side of me felt that both she and Troy had worked together to get me out of the picture. I couldn’t protect Beth if I wanted to now, and I really did.
Don’t worry Romilly, when the blade drops onto your neck, I won’t let it kill you.
I wish the demon would leave me.
As far as I knew, Beth was with Toril. Her fate would be tied to the choices Toril made.
Somehow I had to believe that Toril was doing the things she was doing was for good, and not for ill. I just had no evidence to support that.
* * *
People were laughing in the secure, cosy, alcohol fuelled surroundings of the Dying Swan.
Toril elected not to go into the pub. No-one there could help anyway, and she decided that Jacinta’s final moments could be with her.
She lay her gently on the ground, and tried to work the axe out of her back.
Blood poured from Jacinta’s mouth, and to Toril’s surprise, she spoke.
“Leave it. Leave it now. Got to look after our friends.”
Toril’s cool expression evaporated and tears poured out of her.
“I have to save you, come on now.”
“It’s….not so bad. Not so bad as you think. Remember, Holmes doesn’t cry. Though I did tear up for you earlier.”
Wiping some tears from her face, still more came.
“That’s because he always has Watson with him. Holmes couldn’t do much without Watson.”
Jacinta smiled. “But you can, and you will. Sorry I won’t be there to see it. You’ll be an all powerful witch, you’ll see.”
If anyone else had said this, at any other time, Toril would have wanted to sneer, but this was her friend’s last moments. It wasn’t the time to be snobbish. She felt angry that she was totally powerless. She knew of no spell that could bring back someone from the dead. That sort of thing was some kind of dark craft, of which she would have no part of. At least, she could not envisage that right now.
“I’ll make it okay. I’ll fix you up,” said Toril, lying. Blotches of Red protruded through Jacinta’s clothes.
Jacinta broke Toril’s train of thought.
“At least…at least some of those…those…things….didn’t make it. I didn’t do bad, did I? By calling Dana?”
“No, Jay. You did good. Real good. I’m proud of you.”
“I….I got something right then. I just…really don’t want to die.”
But die, she did. Those were Jacinta’s last words. Her eyes stared motionless into the night sky. For a few moments, the snow had receded, but as Jacinta breathed her last, the spiteful flakes hurled downwards once more.
* * *
Toril lay with Jacinta in her arms until she felt her body going cold and stiff. Almost absent-mindedly, she clicked her fingers to snap Beth out of her immobile state. She knew Beth would not be as cool as Jacinta, but she needed help.
She needed me and the Mirror. But most of all, Toril wanted vengeance.
In the cold light of day, she would come to realise that Troy’s aim was at Dana, not Jacinta. He had probably never meant to kill her, but she didn’t believe he was totally innocent either.
He would have to pay, one way or another, but Dana deserved to meet her end too.
“I’ll see to it,” said Toril, under her breath.
Beth looked around, heavily disorientated. Her eyes then set on Toril, who was still cradling Jacinta.
With tears streaming down her face, she gently closed Jacinta’s eyes.
“What-what happened? Oh my God!” said Beth.
“No, it’s alright, you see Beth,” said Toril, dreamily. “She’s just sleeping. It’ll be okay.”
Beth was mortified, and had a million questions to ask, but she knew she had to stay quiet this time. How could Jacinta be dead? She sank to her knees and tried to comfort a very distressed Toril.
* * *
Unable to free myself from my restraints, I had no idea that Jacinta was dead, or in what circumstances she had met her demise. I looked around the room. It was dark, save for a window to my right side. I half smiled at the bars placed vertically and horizontally across it.
Anyone who found themselves in this room were not expected to escape, that was for sure.
I turned my head as far to the right as I could, and could see a small vent where you could escape. If you were a mouse, that is.
Unfortunately, I was not the size of a mouse, although I was as scared as one that had been cornered by a cat.
The room felt soundproofed from the weather outside, which switched seamlessly between sleet, rain and snow.
In fact, things were eerily silent. Too silent. Except for one sound of course.
Only a few feet away in the next room, Curie was sharpening some kind of weapon.
He had already threatened to kill me with an axe, but it seemed a bit over the top, too theatrical, even for him.
I considered it must be a much smaller weapon, perhaps a knife with a serrated edge. That would suit the – what would you call this – the occasion.
Curie would want to stand over me, and have me look at him, deep i
nto his black eyes, whilst he applied the blade to my throat.
He wouldn’t toy with me, not after the last time he and I were in the same room together. There would be no prodding with the blade this time. He would cut deep, and clean. He’d probably try and make it last as long as he could in order that I would feel the maximum pain before I would die.
Dark Winter Page 27