Helpless (Blue Fire Saga)

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Helpless (Blue Fire Saga) Page 18

by Scott Prussing


  A half-dozen students were rummaging through the store in search of fashion treasure, probably also looking for Valentine’s outfits. Leesa was mostly a bystander while Cali pawed through the racks looking for something cool that wouldn’t be too outrageous for Leesa.

  “Ooh, these are cool,” Cali said. She handed Leesa a pair of dark red leggings with a row of even darker diamond shapes running down the outsides.

  Leesa frowned as she looked down at the leggings. She had never owned a pair of leggings and had never really wanted to. They had always seemed way too forward for her tastes.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, not at all. With your legs, you’ll look hot in these. And since they’re red, they’re perfect for Valentine’s Day. I wish they had hearts instead of diamonds, but that’s probably too much to hope for.”

  “Don’t you think they’re just a little bit casual?” Leesa asked, still trying to wrap her head around the idea of wearing tight red leggings out in public.

  “Heck, no. This is a frat party, not some formal affair. Besides, wait till you see what I’m wearing.”

  “Want to give me hint?”

  Cali grinned. “Nope. All I’ll tell you is I’m going to be the cat’s meow tomorrow night.”

  Leesa could not even begin to imagine what Cali could be planning to wear that would have her so excited, but knowing Cali, it was bound to be outlandish. She looked down at the price sticker on the leggings. They were only four dollars. Even if she decided not to wear them to the party, she could always wear them as a second layer under her pants when it was cold.

  “Okay, if I wear these—and I’m not saying I will—what do I wear with them?”

  “Let’s see what we can find,” Cali said as she continued to search through the racks.

  Leesa also looked, although with much less zest than Cali. She found a long sleeve gray cotton shirt with tapered tails that she liked. It was in great condition and cost only five dollars. She held it out to Cali.

  “What about this?”

  “It’s not bad, but it’s too plain for Valentines.”

  Cali returned to racks while Leesa draped the shirt over her arm. She liked it and it was cheap. She could always use another long sleeve shirt.

  “Check out this one,” Cali said, handing Leesa a black silk shirt with red accents over a pair of chest pockets and on the cuffs. It had long, tapered tails similar to the gray one.

  Leesa studied the shirt. It looked pretty nice, and a silk shirt for only eight dollars was a great deal. The shirt and the leggings would not have been her first choice for a party outfit, not by a long shot, but that’s why she had brought Cali along. And by settling on this combination, it might keep Cali from choosing some of the way more outrageous stuff in the store.

  Leesa held the shirt up over the folded leggings. “Do you think they look okay together?”

  Cali gave the outfit a quick once over. “Red and black is a great Valentine’s combo. Very sexy. The red on the shirt isn’t a perfect match for the leggings, but it should work.” She grinned. “Besides we’re not shopping for designer outfits here. Now, let’s see if we can find you some hot boots.”

  Cali spun and headed toward the back of the store, where rows of shoes and boots rested on metal shelves, arranged by sizes.

  “What size are you?”

  “Eight and a half.”

  “Ooh, ooh! Check these out!” Cali held up a pair of above the ankle red leather boots with four inch spike heels.

  Leesa grimaced. The boots were so not her.

  “No way. They’ll make me look like a hooker.”

  Cali looked down at the boots and grinned. “Yeah, they might be a bit too hot for you. I think I’ll keep these puppies for myself.”

  “Can’t I just wear my black leather knee-highs?” Leesa asked.

  Cali thought for a moment. “Yeah, that would probably be all right.” She grabbed a pair of black boots from the shelf. “Let’s try your stuff on with these, just to see how it all looks.”

  They threaded their way between the racks to a row of dressing booths fronted by long purple curtains.

  “In you go, girl,” Cali said, handing Leesa the boots.

  Katy Perry was singing “Last Friday Night” as Leesa ducked behind the curtain. She hoped Friday night’s party was not going to be quite as wild as the song. She hung the shirts and leggings on plastic hooks and dropped the boots onto a narrow wooden bench. Feeling just a bit nervous, she took off her jeans and pulled the leggings on, then slipped the silk shirt on over them. Not a whole lot of light filtered in from the top of the dressing booth, but she didn’t think the combination looked too bad, at least not in the grimy dressing booth mirror. She had to admit, the combination of the long shirttails over the tight leggings looked pretty sexy. She sat down and put the boots on. They made the outfit even hotter.

  She stepped outside the curtain, into the light.

  “Wow! You look hot!” Cali said. “That outfit looks even better than I expected. The boots are great.”

  Leesa did a slow pirouette in front of the mirror, twisting her neck to check herself from all angles. The boots and tight leggings definitely drew attention to her legs, which she had always considered her best feature. The shirt revealed a bit more of her butt than she would have preferred, especially when she moved, but she’d seen lots of girls wearing leggings with shirts that didn’t cover their butts at all, so her outfit was pretty tame by comparison. Still, the overall effect of the combination was a bit provocative. No way would she have worn it to a frat party, of all places, unless Rave was there with her. She was pretty sure he would like it, too, which was all that really mattered.

  “I like it,” Leesa said.

  “You should,” Cali replied. “You look great.”

  That night, Leesa dreamed again.

  She didn’t dream of shopping, or Valentine’s Day parties, or of being with Rave. No, she dreamed of…

  She was inside an old building. It was very dim. The windows were boarded up, but the planks were old and ill fitting, riddled with cracks and knot holes. Bands of sunlight shone in through the openings, cutting through the dimness like laser beams. Motes of dust disturbed by her passage floated in the ribbons of light. It was cold in here, but for some reason the chill did not bother her.

  The place was clearly industrial, not residential. The floor was cement, and pieces of metal junk were strewn haphazardly along the walls. The smell was musty, tinged with something she identified as grease or oil. She moved forward carefully, and a few steps later her caution was rewarded.

  She stopped at the edge of a rectangular pit. The hole in the floor was deep enough to have caused serious injury had she fallen in. She saw two long metal planks near the bottom and recognized them as hydraulic lifts. The place was an old garage or auto repair shop of some kind.

  Ahead of her, coming from somewhere behind a plaster wall, she heard shouting. The noise grew and subsided in crescendos of varying length. No, not shouting exactly. More like cheering, with plenty of groans mixed in, too. Something in the next room was tugging at the emotions of a small crowd.

  She made her way toward a metal door. Thin strips of yellow light outlined the door, telling her the room behind was well lit. The doorknob was tarnished brass. She grabbed it carefully. The knob turned easily in her grasp.

  Slowly, she eased the door open. No longer blocked by the wall and door, the yelling grew louder. She waited until her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness and then stepped through the doorway.

  She found herself behind a wall of people, almost all men. She saw only two forms she could recognize as women. Everyone was dressed similarly—soiled jeans with flannel shirts or sweatshirts. Almost everyone wore a ball cap of varying colors, including the women. The room reeked of cigarette smoke, and something else Leesa could not identify.

  Somehow, she knew she did not want to see what was holding the crowd’s attention and drawing th
eir cheers and groans. Still, she was unable to stop herself from moving forward. She pushed and elbowed her way through the crowd. No one seemed to notice her presence, no matter how hard she bumped and jostled them.

  Finally, she was through. She immediately wished she hadn’t pushed forward, that she had remained in the back, or even in the other room. In front of her, ringed by the crowd of screaming people, two thickly muscled dogs tore at each other on a sawdust-covered floor. Now she knew what the other smell was, the one she had been unable to identify. It was the smell of blood.

  Leesa woke up shaking. She hated the very idea of dog fighting. It disgusted her—so where in hell had the horrible nightmare come from? What connection could dog fighting possibly have to her, and why was her magic showing her this? She had no idea, but she had no doubt this dream had been one of her special ones. It had seemed way too real.

  She twisted over onto her back, staring up through the darkness at the ceiling. Did she dare try her everywhere/nowhere technique to return to the dream and find out if there was more she might learn? She couldn’t imagine what else she could possibly want to see, unless it was the dogs somehow managing to attack the perverts in the crowd.

  No, she definitely did not want to go back there—but what if she could learn something that might enable her to stop that horrible thing, to somehow break up the dog fighting ring? Surely that would be worth any foul taste she might have to endure. But she kept coming back to the same question—what connection could the dog fighting have to her magic? Reluctantly, she closed her eyes and silently mouthed her trigger word.

  When she opened her eyes, it was morning. She had not returned to the dream. This time, her beginner’s magic had seemed to simply relax her and allow her to return to an untroubled sleep. Part of her was very grateful; the rest of her worried whether she might have missed out on some useful information.

  Wondering why she’d experienced such a gruesome dream in the first place, she pushed herself up out of bed.

  33. breaking the seal

  Josef strolled southward along the side of the highway in north central Vermont, in no real hurry. Twice now, once in Canada and once here in Vermont, a driver had stopped to offer him a lift. He graciously accepted the ride each time. When there were no rides offered, he was content to walk. This stretch of road was not very heavily traveled at night, but dressed all in black as he was, whenever he saw headlights approaching he simply edged farther to the side and let the car pass. There was some snow along the edges of the shoulder, but it had been plowed pretty far back, giving him plenty of room to remain safe. He did not begrudge the tiny delays caused by each passing vehicle.

  When there were only four of you hunting a man of wisdom and experience who did not want to be found, you learned to be patient. Unless Dominic made a mistake or was forced to employ his magic, they would need to be very lucky to find him. Time was on their side, though. The longer Dominic remained hidden, the more time they had to help the Necromancer break the magical seal between the world of the living and the world of the dead. Already, they had experienced some small success in reanimating the dead, but it never lasted long. So far, the world of the dead had always reclaimed its own in a matter of minutes.

  The biggest success so far had been back in Romania, where the Necromancer had raised ten corpses and kept them animated for nearly fifteen minutes. Josef’s biggest coup had taken place only a hundred miles or so from where he now walked, in the Berkshire Mountains of Massachusetts. He had raised eight of the dead long enough to wipe out two small families camping in the woods. Progress was slow, but it was continuing. If Dominic wanted to have any hope of stopping them, he would not be able to remain hidden much longer.

  Up ahead, Josef saw a pale glimmer of light reflecting above the trees into the night sky, telling him he was approaching a town. Had he been an ordinary traveler, the glow might have been a welcome sight, foretelling as it did the availability of food and perhaps a place to sleep. Josef had little needed for either, however. To him, the lights simply meant an increase in traffic and perhaps sidewalks on which to walk. Neither was a big deal.

  The first people he saw were three men, gathered near the rear of a parking lot beside a boarded up gas station on the outskirts of the town. The men were drinking beer and talking loudly while they warmed themselves in front of a blazing fire burning inside a metal trash barrel. By the volume of their voices, they had been at it for some time. The men were of no interest to Josef, so he simply passed them by.

  He had barely gone beyond the old service station when he sensed something that was very much of interest. He sensed death—painful, recent death, the best and most useful kind. He stopped and closed his eyes, drinking in the delicious sensations. They arose from somewhere back in the trees, and not too far back at that. Josef pivoted and strode toward the woods, guided unerringly by his magical senses.

  Less than twenty steps into the trees he found it. The unmarked grave was shallow, barely covered by a thin layer of loose dirt. It was little more than a careless disturbance in the forest floor. No respect at all had been given to whatever bodies lay beneath and no marker of any kind adorned the spot. None of which bothered Josef in the least.

  He squatted next to the grave and waved his arm slowly above the dirt, causing it to roll aside as if washed away by a wave of air. Underneath, four thickly muscled pit bulls were piled in a jumbled heap, their bodies torn and ripped by jagged wounds. Josef saw immediately that the wounds, grisly as they were, had not been the cause of death. The throat of each dog had been neatly slashed, and not very long ago, either. No longer of any use to their masters, the animals had simply been put down and tossed away.

  Still squatting close above the crude grave, Josef closed his eyes and began a low rhythmic chant. For some reason, animals were easier to reanimate than humans. Whether that was because their life energy was less complex or because the waziri had been careless in creating their seal, Josef did not know. He suspected it was a bit of both.

  For a full five minutes he remained motionless, chanting the forbidden black magic. When he finally opened his eyes, the dogs opened theirs as well.

  Sensations of anger and hatred streamed from the grave, washing over Josef like an intoxicating balm as the canine corpses began to twitch and move. The dark feelings were not directed at him, Josef knew. He also knew that the objects of the hate and anger were not very far away.

  Very slowly, the reanimated dogs pushed their way to their feet. Josef stood up and extended a slender finger to the left. The pit bulls immediately began heading in that direction, lurching silently forward on unsteady legs.

  Josef followed behind them. With each step, the dogs gained more control of their newly energized muscles. Their gait remained rough and ungainly, but they began to move with increased determination.

  Up ahead, just outside the boundary of the woods, the flickering yellow glow of a fire lit up the night. The three men were still huddled around the burning metal barrel, talking loudly and drinking heavily. Josef felt the anger and hatred of his canine companions rage even hotter when they caught the scent of the men. He knew at once that these guys had been the dogs’ former owners—and their killers.

  The dogs pushed forward, moving with only a fraction of the speed they possessed when they were alive. Still, it was more than enough. Blinded by the glare of the flames, the men did not see the reanimated dogs until it was too late. Slowed by alcohol and by disbelief, the men could do little more than scream as the pit bulls leapt upon them from darkness and did what they had been trained to do so well, ripping and tearing at their target’s throats with a fury and hunger fueled by hate.

  In less than a minute, it was over. The three men lay sprawled on the ground, bloodied and dead. The four dogs fed briefly on the bodies, then collapsed beside their former masters as Josef’s magic wore off and the world of the dead reclaimed them.

  The black waziri felt a grim satisfaction. His reanimated creation
s had lasted nearly five minutes, and they had wreaked a fitting vengeance besides. He thought about incinerating the dogs with his magic as a show of respect, but decided against it. Whoever discovered this grisly scene would think the dogs had simply turned upon their cruel owners. How they had managed to do it with their throats slashed was a mystery the authorities would probably never figure out.

  Josef turned from the carnage and continued his journey south.

  34. musings

  Friday afternoon at two o’clock, Dominic showed up at Leesa’s room. Since she was going to the Valentine’s Day party tonight, they had agreed to squeeze in some practice beforehand. Leesa had been catching up on some studying while she waited for him to arrive, but was happy for a reason to close her books.

  As soon as she got up from her desk, she could see that Dominic’s face looked more serious than usual.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  Dominic took off his jacket and hung it atop Leesa’s parka in her closet.

  “What makes you think something is wrong?”

  “The look on your face. You look concerned.”

  Dominic smiled. “I didn’t know it showed. You are getting very observant.”

  Leesa returned his smile. “So? What is it?”

  “It’s Josef,” Dominic said. “He’s getting closer.”

  “Where?” Leesa asked, reflexively swiveling her head from side to side as if the black wizard might magically appear at any moment. “How close?”

  “North,” Dominic said. “Less than two hundred miles, I think. Probably somewhere in Vermont.”

 

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