Lothar pulled on the squeaky door. A circular stairway led downward. More torchlight shone from the depths; the sounds of a faintly cracking bullwhip and distant screams wafted up the stairs. The stench rising to meet them was nearly overpowering. Lothar beckoned Mary across the threshold and onto the mildewed landing.
Lothar locked the door behind them. The brass key went back into his pocket. Without further ado, he started down.
Having come this far, Mary knew she could never double back against the jailor’s will. Wondering whether she would ever be heard from again, she reluctantly followed him down the stairs.
Mallory shook Scarlet’s shoulders gently. At Seven Seasons of New Life, Scarlet was the youngest among them. “Wake up!” Mallory whispered.
Rubbing her eyes, Scarlet scowled sleepily. Ariana busily awakened the other five girls. Once they were all on their feet, Mallory told them to crowd around as she explained the plan. Several of them started to jump up and down and squeal with delight.
That was the last thing Mallory needed. Putting a finger over her lips, she hushed them. For once, even the disagreeable Magdalene obeyed.
“Do you all know what to do?” Mallory asked. Eager nods came from all around.
Mallory looked anxiously toward the door. She had waited until the guard passed by before waking the girls. He was due back soon. Less than an hour ago, there had been a change of shift. To her dismay, the guard patrolling the hall was now the same filthy brute who had abused her earlier. At first that had unnerved her. But now she planned to use it to her advantage. She looked anxiously at Ariana.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Ariana nodded, but there was a worried look in her eyes. “Be careful,” she whispered. “We will have only one chance at this!”
Mallory took Ariana’s hands into hers. “I know,” she answered. “Be sure they’re ready to move at a moment’s notice!”
Mallory walked to the door. She was trembling. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Ariana had done her part; now it was her turn. She had to be convincing, no matter how much it disgusted her.
Mallory soon heard the guard’s footsteps returning. She hiked up one side of her skirt, then grabbed the door with both hands. As the guard neared, he leered at her. Mallory forced herself to smile.
“Why don’t you stop for a while?” she asked coyly. Suddenly it was all she could do to keep from becoming ill. Even so, she moved her smiling face nearer to the dirty bars.
The skeptical guard stopped, then glanced toward the cell’s far wall. The other girls looked fast asleep in one corner, huddled up against each other as they tried to stay warm. Turning his furtive eyes back to Mallory, he looked her up and down lasciviously.
“What do you want?”
Mallory edged closer. She could smell his stink again, but she held fast.
“I want more of what you did yesterday,” she whispered. “I liked it.”
She looked back to the girls like she was making sure they were asleep. When she swiveled back around she suggestively rubbed one hip against the door.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Nobody will see. This time it will be just you and me.” She temptingly spread her legs. “Come closer,” she said enticingly. “I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
The guard couldn’t believe his good fortune. His predatory eyes shining, he leaned toward the door.
Mallory quickly summoned the craft, then used it to treble her strength. Shoving the door open with everything she had, she slammed its iron bars straight into the guard’s forehead.
To her horror he simply stood there for a moment with an amazed look on his face. Blood ran into his eyes. Then his eyeballs rolled up in his head. He fell flat onto his back, unconscious.
The girls ran to her. Mallory looked into Ariana’s eyes.
“Does any of your power remain?” she asked urgently.
Ariana shook her head. “Not much,” she whispered. “But I’ll do what I can!”
Mallory looked at Magdalene. “We three will lead, and the younger girls will follow us. Do you understand? All right, then,” Mallory said to everyone. “Let’s go!”
The younger girls following along behind them, Mallory, Ariana, and Magdalene stepped out into the hall. Wondering what might await them, they summoned whatever powers they had left.
Mallory looked first to the left, then to the right. Both ways looked the same-dark, looming, endless. She stepped over the guard’s body and started leading the girls leftward, down the hall.
May the Afterlife watch over us, she prayed.
WHEN MARY REACHED THE LAST STEP, SHE LOOKED DOWNthe hall to see an intersection looming up ahead. Five separate hallways branched away from its center. It was illuminated by wall torches. The torches’ flames cast spectral shadows across the floor and walls.
A guard sat there at a desk. He seemed bored, half asleep. When he saw Lothar approaching he quickly cleared his throat and sat upright.
The cracking bullwhip and the desperate screaming seemed much louder now. Mary found herself fervently hoping that Lothar’s route wouldn’t take them past the torture session. That was something she wasn’t prepared to see.
Just as they neared the desk, a strange-looking streak of blue lightning came out of nowhere to hit the guard squarely in the chest. He was propelled backward with such force that he was lifted into the air and slammed against the rear wall. He hit the floor hard. Blood ran from his ears and nose. Smoke drifted lazily from his burned skin and clothing. Stunned by what had just happened, Mary and Lothar simply stood there, staring. As the smoke cleared, the guard looked dead.
Calling out for help, Lothar started running toward the stricken guard. Suspecting that Lothar had just made a mistake, Mary wisely stayed back.
As Lothar reached the desk he turned to look down the facing hallway. His eyes went wide with surprise. Before he could react another blue bolt came streaking through the air. Like the first one, it hit its target squarely in the chest. The bolt slammed his great bulk into the air.
Lothar landed hard on his back atop the desk with his arms and legs dangling limply toward the floor. His eyes were closed, and his tongue protruded from between his teeth.
Not knowing what to do, Mary stood frozen in the moment. From behind her she heard the sounds of voices and running footsteps. She quickly turned to look.
Far down the dimly lit hall, she could barely see a group of guards charging toward her. They were shouting angrily and carrying torches. When she turned back to look at Lothar, her eyes went wide.
Eight dirty girls stood squarely in the intersection. All of their eyes were locked on her. They looked like starved, desperate animals. What remained of their filthy clothing looked oddly like some type of school uniform. Mary watched as the blond girl in the front narrowed her eyes and pointed one arm at her. Suddenly, Mary understood.
These were the girls Lothar wanted to sell to her. They were of the craft, and trying to break free. And they believe I’m with Lothar!
She immediately went to her knees, then put her hands into the air. From behind her the sounds of the guards’ boots were getting nearer by the moment.
“Don’t hurt me!” she screamed. “I’m not one of them! I want to leave here as badly as you do! But without my help, you’ll never find your way out!”
When the blond girl slowly lowered her arm, Mary rose to her feet and ran to Lothar’s body.
The girls watched skeptically as Mary gingerly fished about in his vest pockets. His clothing still smoked from the blast. Praying that Lothar’s brass key hadn’t melted, she finally found it. To her relief it looked intact. Then she felt herself being spun around by the shoulders and stared directly into the blond girl’s eyes. The girl’s strength had been amazing.
“Who are you?” the girl demanded.
“There’s no time!” Mary answered. She held the key before the girl’s face.
“More guards are coming!” she protested
. “Our only chance is to help one another! You command the craft, and I know the way out! Come on-we must go now!”
The blond girl looked skeptically at a girl with dark hair. After several precious moments the two of them finally nodded. With the eight girls hot on her heels, Mary charged down the hallway leading toward the circular staircase.
The guards entered the intersection, then skidded to a stop. They looked in horror at Lothar’s body, then ran after Mary and the girls.
Mary knew that they didn’t have much of a lead, and that the girls would be weak from lack of food. With Lothar out of action, she tried not to think about what the guards would do to them if they were caught. Clutching the key like it was her very life, she ran as fast she could.
She reached the stairway, and charged up it. After conquering several steps, she finally dared to look back to check on the girls. The six younger ones soon reached the steps and started up. She was terrified to see the older blonde and brunette standing at the bottom.
“Hurry!” Mary screamed at them. The two girls looked up at her.
“Go on!” the blonde shouted. “We’ll be right there!”
Her mind a panicky jumble, Mary shoved the key into the door, then gave it a turn. Pushing for all she was worth, she swung it open. She ushered the six girls through like a distraught mother hen. Then she went back onto the landing and looked down again.
Mallory looked down the hall. Within seconds the guards would be upon them. She looked into Ariana’s eyes.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” she shouted.
Ariana shook her head. “No!” she answered. “But it’s the best idea I have! Are you ready?”
Mallory nodded. Each girl raised her arms.
“Remember, they must be close enough so that they can’t stop in time!” Ariana warned. “Wait…wait…now!”
The two determined girls summoned their remaining powers. At first nothing happened, nearly causing them to panic. Then the floor between them and the onrushing guards was bathed in an azure glaze. The guards saw it, but they couldn’t stop in time and went skidding right into it. They came to unexpected, abrupt halts, the glue-like substance holding them fast. Some stopped so quickly that they came out of their boots and flew through the air, only to have their bodies stick when they hit the floor. Several of their torches and weapons went flying.
Charging up the stairway, the two girls made sure to coat the steps behind them as well. Near the top, they turned to look. Mallory put one hand over her mouth; Ariana’s jaw dropped.
Being novices in the craft, the girls hadn’t stopped to wonder whether the substance they created might be flammable. The torches the guards dropped had set the azure glaze afire, turning the entire floor into a raging inferno.
Unable to escape, the guards shouted and begged as the roaring flames approached. Screaming madly and flailing their limbs, one by one they started burning alive. As Mallory and Ariana stood there watching, the sickening stench of burning flesh rose to greet them.
Snaking its way toward the circular stairway, the rampaging blaze set fire to the first step, then began madly chasing them up the stairs. Mallory and Ariana turned and ran for their lives up the last two steps, then charged through the huge doorway.
Mary swung the door shut and locked it. Smoke quickly started seeping through the gap at the bottom and along the door frame.
“We have to run away from here!” one of the younger girls screamed.
“No!” Mary shouted back. “You must do as I say! There is no time to explain! Walk behind me in single file! Whatever you do, don’t talk and don’t run!”
Not knowing what else to do, Mallory nodded to the girls. They nodded back.
Just as the massive door started to come ablaze, Mary led her young charges toward the prison foyer.
The foyer was the only marginally attractive room in the prison. As she led the girls across the shiny marble floor, she nodded politely to the guards stationed there. Smiling, the guards nodded back.
Deciding to be of service, a guard walked to the double doors and held them open for the madam and her new charges. As they quietly walked through, he even went so far as to bow. Bowing back, Mary fought hard to contain a grin.
The nine females sauntered out of the prison and into the busy street. Night had fallen, and the oil streetlamps burned brightly. Praying that the girls would have the good sense to remain quiet, Mary quickly hailed a passing carriage.
Six of the girls were able to sit inside; two had to climb atop the roof. Reaching up, Mary handed the driver more kisa than he had seen in a week. He beamed a toothless smile down at her.
“Where to, m’lady?” he asked. Hearing the question, Mallory stuck her head out of one of the carriage windows.
“To the royal palace!” she ordered.
When Mary gave her a questioning glance, Mallory scowled back. “I’m giving the orders now,” she said quietly.
Mary shook her head. Wasting no time, she climbed up to sit with the driver.
“The royal palace it is,” she repeated.
With a crack of the driver’s whip, they were off.
CHAPTER XI
WHEN TRISTAN REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS HE FOUNDhimself supine on a dewy field. His weapons poked sharply into his back. The night was clear and the stars burned brightly overhead. As he sat up, his head swam sickeningly.
“Do not be alarmed,” said a hollow voice. “The sensation will pass. As we travel together it will no long occur.”
Tristan looked around. Only a few meters away, the Sippora River lay impossibly still, and the three red moons reflected calmly atop its waters. He saw flat grasslands stretching for leagues in every direction, suggesting that he was somewhere on the fields of Farplain.
A campfire burned nearby. A bit farther on, two unsaddled horses stood tied to a tether line. One was Shadow. A freshly dressed venison hindquarter rotated without support above the crackling fire. Its enticing aroma filled the night air.
Dark and unmoving, a figure sat cross-legged by the fire. A pewter vial hung from a silver chain lying around his neck. Xanthus’ axe and shield lay beside him on the ground.
The prince stood on wobbly legs. He quickly drew his dreggan. After taking two steps toward Xanthus, he suddenly remembered the failed result when Faegan had attacked the Darkling. Tristan looked for a time at Xanthus’ unmoving form, then sheathed his sword.
“A wise decision,” Xanthus said. “Come sit by the fire.”
Tristan looked around warily. Other than the lone campfire, he saw no other lights on the plains. He soon noticed that the night creatures did not sing. The Farplain winds were notorious for their consistency, but tonight the air was uncommonly still. Save for the usual sounds from the campfire and the tethered horses, everything was eerily quiet. Then Tristan noticed the field grass. All around the entire campsite, the vegetation was dead.
Tristan walked tentatively toward the fire. He was desperately hungry. The smell coming from the roasting meat made his stomach growl, but he dared not try any.
“Where are we?” he demanded.
Xanthus turned toward him. His eyes glowed eerily.
“We are the equivalent of one day’s ride northwest, along the Sippora’s banks,” Xanthus answered. “It is still the night of your masquerade ball. Thanks to the craft’s wonders, we traveled this far in mere moments.”
“Where are you taking me?” the prince asked.
“We travel to the azure pass,” Xanthus answered. “How long it takes us to arrive, and what occurs when we do, depend entirely on you.”
“How can that be?”
“Your ignorance is understandable,” Xanthus said. “I will be happy to enlighten you. But first you must eat. Sit down, Jin’Sai. I am not your enemy.”
Realizing that escape was probably impossible, Tristan reluctantly took a seat by the fire. He watched a roasted venison piece tear itself away from the slowly rotating hindquarter. It floated through the air to
land in his lap. He refused to touch it. Xanthus smiled.
“Bring you all this way only to poison you?” he asked. “I believe not. If I wanted you dead, you would be. Eat. Our journey is long; you will need your strength.”
Tristan bit warily into the meat. To his relief it seemed all right. He started eating greedily. As soon as he had finished, another piece was delivered to him, along with a wine flask.
When he finished, he wiped his mouth and looked back at the Darkling. He anxiously eyed the pewter vial hanging from the being’s neck. Tristan silently prayed that Xanthus understood the stone’s full importance. His mind filled with unanswered questions, Tristan looked back into the glowing eyes.
“You steal the Paragon, attack Faegan, and then abduct me!” he snarled. “Yet you say that you are not my enemy! If that’s true, your way of making friends is a strange one! Who are you?” he demanded. “Why am I your prisoner?”
“You bear no chains that I can see,” Xanthus answered. “You are not, nor will you ever be, my prisoner. You came willingly.”
“I accompanied you only under the threat that more atrocities would occur if I did not!” Tristan shot back. “What sort of sick game are you playing?”
“It’s no game,” Xanthus answered. “But there are rules, I assure you.”
Tristan watched as Xanthus caused a log to float through the air and land atop the fire. The prince turned furtively to regard the axe and shield. As he found himself wondering about them, his curiosity did not go unmissed by the Darkling.
“You still have your weapons,” Xanthus said. “Moreover, you are free to ride away anytime you choose. I will do nothing to stop you. But you won’t go, and we both know why.”
“The Paragon,” Tristan said.
“Yes,” Xanthus answered. “But there is more to it than that. You haven’t grasped the problem’s entirety. Observe.”
Tristan cringed as he watched the pewter vial float up and away from Xanthus’ form. Its top slowly opened. The Paragon and its gold chain lifted free from the vial. Tristan shuddered as he realized that the stone was probably ready to accept a new human host. He also knew that the period between hosts was always the stone’s most vulnerable time.
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