Gemma steadied herself and glanced sideways at Mitch. ‘What do you think?’
His dark eyes met hers. ‘Distract them.’
‘How?’ Grace whispered, sidling up beside them.
Two extra Wicked entered the room then and took to guarding Kane while Mr Stark began to prepare Cara. He pinned her arms to her sides and strapped her waist to a wooden pole.
‘I say we go in, swords out and ready to fight.’ Logan replied.
‘And if we’re killed before anyone comes?’ Robin whispered, his voice wavering ever so slightly.
They glanced at one another.
‘Then at least we’ll die a noble death.’ Mitch told him.
Gemma unsheathed her sword, the sound of her blade emerging ringing in her ears. Her pulse quickened and her head felt light; her limbs weak. She was afraid; ready, but afraid.
They spared each other a final glance; then the five of them charged up the steps.
It appeared Mr Stark had been prepared, for at least another ten or more Wicked emerged from the shadows, weapons in hand.
Gemma didn’t hesitate, not like the last time. She slammed her sword into the first Wicked’s chest, deflecting the small stab of lightening he’d managed to shoot her way into the stomach of a second Wicked.
The Wizard was up and moving in a matter of milliseconds, and Gemma found herself clashing blades with him. Sweat pooled in the small of her back as she ducked a blow, taking the opportunity to strike out at the Wicked’s leg. He stumbled as her blade sliced through his flesh, but not before he managed to slam his fist into her jaw. She reeled back, eyes watering, and caught a preview of those around her.
Logan wielded his blade with ease as he sliced his sword through one Wicked’s arm. He ducked a blow from a second Wicked and slammed his blade into the chest of the first. He pulled back and spun in time to slice his weapon through the neck of the second Wicked, and her lifeless body slumped to the ground.
She saw Grace smashing the hilt of her blade down over the back of a Witch’s head, crouching low to deflect the blow that followed. Freeing the dagger from her boot, she drove it up into the heart of the Wicked.
Mitch was a blur of swords and lightening as he exercised both with such fierceness and strength that she could do nothing but admire.
And then there was Robin, who, while he held his own, was clearly struggling. He was engaged in a sword fight with a Wicked, and in that moment, he appeared to be winning.
Gemma growled and spun on the Wicked, blade ready. Blood welled from the wound in his leg, and she thought finishing him off would be easy. That, however, was not the case. It was as if he felt no pain, for no matter how many times Gemma struck him, he didn’t stop.
And then the dynamic began to change. She glimpsed two Wicked ganging up on Grace as she attempted to defend herself against the attack of third, and another four Wicked arrived, diving for Mitch. There was something different about the Wicked they fought. They worked together; they were better trained; and they knew what they were doing.
As Gemma spun away, readying to slam her sword into the Wicked’s neck, she halted, a horrendous pain overtaking her entire body. Her vision blurred but she held firm, swivelling to repel the stream of Lightening with the surface her sword. She succeeded, however before she could react further, she found a blade to her throat.
She pulled up short.
‘Drop the sword.’ The Wicked hissed into her ear.
Gemma’s vision came back into focus and she did as she was told. The Wicked dragged her across the rocky stage, thrusting her around to face her friends.
Only six Wicked remained, which sent a gratifying jolt of satisfaction through Gemma. Grace and Logan were both in the same predicament as herself; their swords confiscated, blades to their throats. Cara remained tied to the poll, Kane hunched over beside her, Mr Stark’s own sword pressed against his back, and Erebus stood off to the side, waiting patiently.
A few meters away was Mitch, kneeling on the ground, one Wicked securing his hands behind his back, a second holding a knife to his neck. But he didn’t appear to care for his glassy eyes focused on one thing and one thing only; Robin’s body resting before him, a sword piercing his stomach.
Chapter Twenty-Five
An Act Of Bravery
Laura and Drew slammed into the soft, grassy ground, the portal evaporating behind them. They staggered to their feet, glancing about at the dark ruins around them. A storm was brewing over head, and the sun had set, casting dim shadows over the rainforest. Laura retrieved her torch from her pocket, switching it on and sweeping it over the clearing.
‘What’s that?’ Drew asked, raising his voice over the sudden gust of wind that whipped through the clearing, sending the trees into a frenzy.
Laura trained the torchlight on the stone cottage, or what was left of it, that Drew was pointing towards. There, flapping in the wind, tied to a vine that wove its way through the stone, was an old T-shirt.
‘This must be the place,’ Laura shouted.
The air was humid; musky, as they stumbled through where the door once was, discovering a dark hole in the earth. Laura took to the ladder instantly, reaching the ground in a matter of seconds. Lamps were already flickering in the shadows, lighting their way down the black tunnel. The storm hadn’t followed them however they could still hear the howling of the wind as it tore through the forest.
Drew dumped his bag against the wall, concealing it among the shadows beside Laura’s. They each freed their swords, leaving them unsheathed as they set off down the tunnel.
The sound of battle echoed past them, and Laura quickened her pace until she was moving at a run. They skidded to a halt at an arched doorway where the voices; the shouting; the sound of death, was loudest. They snuck down the hall, all the while attempting to control the part of them that urged their bodies to run.
The tunnel opened out into an enormous cave, a set of steps before them leading up to a rocky platform. She felt Drew tugging at her arm, and she followed him into the shadows where they were able to see what the commotion coming from above was.
Laura clamped her hand over her mouth when she saw her Mother slumped against the wooden pole; defeated. She bit down hard, forcing her tears to recede, the screams to remain inside.
‘Mum,’ she whispered.
She was too skinny, her clothes torn and falling from her shoulders. Her hair was cut shorter and hung in dirty clumps around her hollow face.
She felt Drew’s fingers lace between her own, and she gripped his hand tight, unable to remove her gaze from her Mother.
‘Look,’ Drew whispered, nodding to the man beside her Mother, Mr Stark’s blade to his back.
It was Kane. And swiftly, everything clicked into place; Kane had the possession charm. He could perform the swap for Erebus, and if he showed Erebus how to use the charm once he had Cara’s body, then Erebus could repeat it… on herself.
‘Oh god,’ she breathed.
Laura’s eyes trailed further across the room, noticing her friends for the first time, all detained by Wicked - almost all, she amended, for there was one exception; Robin. His body laid crumpled in a pool of his own blood.
Laura’s stomach tightened, her body ached. She wanted to help him; to heal him. Could she do it again so soon? Could she ground herself like she previously had?
Laura felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck as an eerie feeling washed over her. She spun in place to see a young, thin boy with scraggly blond hair standing behind her, knife in hand.
Laura was quick to shield her body and Drew tensed beside her, noticing what she already had. The little boy froze, a finger flying to his lips, then he shoved his knife into his pants and leaned towards them.
‘I’m here to help.’ He whispered. ‘I’m a friend of Cara’s. She was very nice to me. Erebus was not.’
Laura sucked in a breath at the mention of her Mother and watched the boy carefully as he staggered up beside them.
‘I don’t know if you know, but they’ve been forcing Enchanted to swear allegiance to the Devils. The Sargent perfected the change just hours ago; he found something within the Sorcerers notes that tipped him off.’
Laura’s eyes flickered to Drew’s worried ones. ‘Why did they dump the bodies in plain sight though? Enchanted have been finding them all over. Aren’t they worried they’ll catch on?’
The boy’s blond hair fell into his eyes. ‘I think they want them to find the bodies, but they believe it will be too late by the time they piece everything together. It’s all a big game to Erebus. He likes games.’
‘How did they perfect the change?’ Drew pressed.
The boy glanced across at him. ‘By taking raw Lightening and blood from a dead Wicked and injecting it into the Enchanted. They only need a small dose, but it’s enough.’
And then the picture made sense; Mr Stark’s constant visits to Kane’s home; his ordering the soldiers to scour the ruins of the Lost City; his part in the investigation behind the dead bodies.
‘How many?’ Laura whispered.
‘Over a hundred and counting.’
Laura felt the back of her throat begin to swell, but at the sound of Erebus’ voice she swallowed and straightened, turning to peer up at the rocky stage.
‘Okay, now that we have an audience, let’s get to work.’ He said, rubbing his hands together and taking up his position beside Kane and Mr Stark.
‘Now, I believe you understand your role. Stand up.’ He snapped at Kane, and Mr Stark hauled the Wizard roughly to his feet.
Kane was a whimpering mess, begging for mercy, pleading for help, apologizing to Cara over and over. Laura couldn’t watch as her Mother slumped forward, too weak to respond. It took a series of harsh words and coxing on Erebus’ part, but eventually Kane reached out, grasping Cara’s limp wrists.
No. Laura wasn’t going to let Erebus have her Mother; not again. She didn’t think, she acted.
Laura flung herself out from the shadows and charged up the steps, sword poised and aimed for Erebus’ heart. Erebus spun away, Kane stumbled to the ground, and Mr Stark appeared, fighting off her killing blow.
Laura staggered backwards as Mr Stark’s blade connected with her own. Then, they were fighting, his blows growing harder to deflect. In a single movement, Mr Stark disarmed her, gripped her arm and pulled her to his chest, shoving the tip of his sword to her neck. She screamed out in frustration, but it did her no good.
Mr Stark sneered at her. ‘I thought you were dead’
‘Guess you thought wrong.’
Out of nowhere, the blond boy shot past them, knife in hand. Mr Stark moved faster, and, without having to let go of Laura, he tugged a knife free from his belt and imbedded it in the boy’s chest.
Erebus laughed at the dead form crumpled by his feet and someone cried out; her Mother, Laura realised.
‘Good job. That was a nice kill.’ Erebus said, clapping Mr Stark on the back. ‘As for you my dear,’ he added, running his fingers down Laura’s jaw.
Laura spat at him, hitting him square in the face. Mr Stark pressed the blade harder against her throat.
‘How dare you-’ Mr Stark hissed, however Erebus cut him short with a sharp slap to Laura’s cheek.
Laura’s eyes watered and her cheek and neck stung, but she held firm. She would not show weakness.
‘Where’s Drew?’ Mr Stark jeered.
Laura’s mouth remained shut.
‘I know he’s here. Drew, my boy, if you’re listening, I suggest you surrender, otherwise, Hallan over here might just slip and you’ll find yourself down a twin.’
Laura’s gaze shot to Grace. A small bead of blood rolled down her neck to her collarbone. Regardless, Grace didn’t react; she didn’t say a word. She would not beg her brother to give himself up for her sake. But Drew loved his sister, Laura knew that, and she wasn’t surprise nor was she shocked when Drew climbed the stairs, allowing one of the Wicked to disarm him, taking him, too, hostage.
‘Now that you’re all here, let’s get on with things.’ Erebus said, motioning for someone to take over for Mr Stark so he could drag Kane back to his feet.
Stupid. Laura thought. She was so stupid. If only she’d remained amongst the shadows; she and Drew could have come up with a plan, and that poor boy whose name she didn’t even know would still be alive.
She watched helplessly as Kane took a hold of Cara’s wrists and began to mumble a series of words beneath his breath. A wall of blackness fell around the two as Kane prepared Cara for what was to come.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A Sacrifice For The Greater Good
‘What do I do?’ Erebus demanded greedily as the blackness dissipated and Kane released Cara.
Laura grit her teeth and her throat began to swell with the threat of tears, for there was nothing she could do. Nothing at all.
Kane grasped Cara’s arm, then, after a slight hesitation, Erebus’ too.
‘Now I have to pull your souls from your bodies, allowing you to possess her.’ Kane told Erebus, his voice wavering.
‘Good, do it.’ Erebus ordered.
Kane’s eyes flickered closed and his grip on both wrists tightening. The room was entirely silent save for the storm that was in full swing above ground. Then, a sheen ball of white light lifted from Erebus, emerging through his open mouth.
‘NOW!’ Cara screamed, and then she stilled as a similar glowing sphere left her own body.
Kane’s eyes flew open and he let them both go, rushing to move away. In his haste, he stumbled backwards, tripped over his feet and slammed into the ground.
Laura’s heart beat wildly in her chest and she watched in horror as Caspian’s body collapsed to the ground and Cara’s slumped forward against her restraints.
‘NO!’ Roared Mr Stark, diving for the body Erebus once occupied.
But it was too late.
Laura fell to her knees, the knife still pressed hard against her throat. Understanding dawned on her, and the tears fell from her eyes in thick droplets.
Cara had sacrificed herself, knowing that if Kane were to begin the process and back out once their souls had emerged, then they wouldn’t have anything to cling to. A soul both carries its body’s injuries and provides it with life, thus meaning Cara and Caspian’s bodies were not habitable, for no soul was inside. Their bodies were neither on the brink of death or alive; they were simply there.
One can only return to their own body if their soul is captured before it reaches the heavens and is later released back into its exit point, Laura recalled; and both Cara and Erebus’ souls were already gone.
As Laura wiped the tears from her cheeks, she glimpsed her sword a short distance away. They were still surrounded by Wicked; and something had to be done if they wanted to escape with their lives. Despite the emotional pain wracking her body, she knew she couldn’t give in. She would mourn later.
So, once again, she acted before thinking. She shoved hard against the Wicked and pulled free during the momentary distraction, retrieving her weapon. She drove her blade deep into the Wizards gut, tugging it loose as he dropped to the ground. She stood, slicing her sword through his throat, then turned to face her next opponent. What she found, however, was a battle taking place, the last of the Wicked fighting hard against the others.
Laura’s eyes shot to the form of her Mother’s body, and her heart broke. Every fibre of her being begged her to go to her Mum’s side, to see if she could be saved, but she knew, she knew, her Mother’s soul was lost. She was… gone. Robin, however, was not.
So, Laura made one of the hardest decisions she’d ever had to make. Knowing her friends could handle the remaining Wicked, Laura pivoted on her heal and dove for Robin’s body, skidding to a halt by his pale face. She checked him over quickly, searching for signs of life, and found a pulse; slow but evident. Mitch appeared in an instant, face stark white.
‘He’s alive.’ She told him.
Mitch blinke
d, clearly relieved. ‘I’m here Robin, it’s going to be okay.’
Laura gripped the hilt of the sword protruding from Robin’s stomach, but Mitch reached out, grasping her hand.
‘What are you doing?!’ He demanded.
‘I can heal him.’ Laura said, battling to keep her voice calm. ‘It’s- it’s a part of the secret behind my birth, I was given this power. I- I can heal people.’
Mitch’s mouth was agape, and he stared at her hard before finally relinquishing his hold. Laura freed the weapon and tossed it aside. Blood began to pump from the wound and she pressed her fingers over the hole.
Heal him.
She screamed inwardly for her powers to wake; for them to understand what had to be done.
Heal. Him.
The world blurred around her and all thoughts disappeared. All she could see was the crimson blood staining her hands; all she could hear were the words that repeatedly left her lips; all she could understand was her desperate need to fix Robin.
The blood began to dry and the wound proceeded to knit back together, much faster than it had done so for her own injury. So fast, in fact, that it felt as though it wasn’t her doing it at all. The world came back into focus and Laura pulled her hands away, a slight gaping cut remaining behind.
‘Too fast…’ Laura whispered, glancing to Robins face to which colour had returned.
‘What are you doing? Keep going!’ Mitch commanded.
‘Look.’ Laura said, nodding at the wound. ‘It’s healing by itself, without my power.’ She shook her head. ‘Something isn’t right.’
Then Robin’s eyes shot open, and Laura realised what had happened. Robin had been on the brink of death when Erebus’ soul left Caspian’s body.
Robin was gone, but Erebus… Erebus was not.
Laura skittered across the rock, aiming to get as far from the body as she could, disgusted she’d helped save Erebus. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Mitch had pulled his dagger from his boot, aiming to slam it down into Robin, no, Erebus’ chest, when Mr Stark appeared, Lightening at the ready. He stunned Mitch with it, who cried out, arching backwards until he slammed down onto the rock, his dagger clattering to the ground.
The Sacrifice (Wicked Book 2) Page 27