House of Thirteen

by Andy Lockwood

  One of them bared its teeth, snarling through jagged rows of sharp, yellow horror. It knew she was close, trying to evade capture. It swung its arms forward latching onto nothing but air. It knew as well as she did: they were closing in.

  Her head continued to swing from them to the door, back and forth as she tried to continue moving quietly back. She was already fatigued, now she was losing blood and she was getting dizzy from checking and rechecking her path. The factors added up quicker than she anticipated and she lost her footing, tripping on a stray piece of rebar. Her arms flung out defensively and part of her knew that this was it. They would be on top of her before she had time to register the pain from the fall. She hit the ground and rolled as best she could, tucking into a defensive ball.

  The sounds were frenzied. They were enraged as they attacked. All Ren could do was listen to the terrifying sounds and wait for it to begin.

  She continued to wait so long that she actually had to get up and see why she wasn’t dead yet.

  They were fighting each other, and Ren realized that she must have splattered one – or both - with her blood when she fell.

  You have magical blood. Try to keep some of it inside for next time, would you?

  She tried to look away, but it was almost mesmerizing watching these two giants beat on each other.

  …But if they run out of blood…

  She didn’t need to think twice about how that might play out. She turned and ran for it, counting her blessings when the door opened easily. She didn’t even stop to secure it; she just kept running down the corridor. She continued down the hall, pushing through another set of doors, where she came into a room that was certainly not like the rest in the building. Where the others were dirty, strewn with debris and viscera, this one was practically immaculate. There were large sconces along the walls lighting the room. In the center of the floor was a circle with an intricate design laid out in the middle of it. It appeared to be drawn in salt, or some powder. There were trunks lined up along the wall, and –

  …A bedroom set? Someone lives here?

  She started to move slowly toward it when she noticed a body on the bed. Part of her hesitated momentarily, and then she recognized the soft sleeping face of her heart.

  “Joe!” She rushed to her sister’s side, shaking her by the shoulders, trying to rouse her from whatever sleep she was in, praying it wasn’t the final one. “Joe, come on, time to wake up. We need to go now.”

  Her eyes fluttered weakly, barely peering through her lashes. Ren couldn’t make out a reaction, whether happy or sad, Joe was simply too weak.

  “I knew you’d come,” Ren had to lean in close to hear her. Joe’s voice was barely a whisper, her breathing shallow and slow.

  “Of course I did,” She tried to hold back the tears, but they were long overdue. “I’m going to take you home now.”

  This time Joe smiled, her eyes shutting for a long moment. Ren waited for them to open again before she bothered to exhale.

  “She’s not going to let us go.” Joe reached out, taking Ren’s hand and holding it as tightly as she could in her weakened state. “You have to leave… before…”

  Ren tightened her grip, putting a hand on Joe’s cheek, holding her. “Before what, Joe? Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

  “Before it’s too late, probably. Isn’t that how it goes in all the stories?”

  An icy chill crawled down Ren’s spine, evaporated by the fire in the pit of her stomach as she stood up. She bent over again, kissing Joe on the head, and then turned to face the rickety old woman.

  “Eunice Abernathy. How lovely to see you.”

  Her robes draped on her, making her look like an old judge. Eunice appeared just as tired and broken as ever, maybe even more so. Her eyes were sunken and sallow, she looked thinner, as if she had stopped eating, but she moved as if she were a teenage athlete having the best day of her life.

  “Don’t pander to me. I want the knife.”

  Ren shook her head, shrugging. “That’s unfortunate. I don’t have it. You should really have taken that up with Mariel.”

  “I’ll be sure to file a formal complaint. I’ll write it in your blood after I’ve drained you dry.”

  Ren’s face screwed, it wasn’t a pretty image, but she hadn’t come all this way to simply fail. She clucked her tongue, trying to keep a calm exterior while the rest of her debated running frantically out of here with Joe, versus ripping the old woman to shreds with her bare hands.

  “If you don’t mind my saying, this all seems like serious lengths to go for William dumping your grandmother.”

  Ren felt a chill as Eunice cackled. “This isn’t about family, child, this is a personal vendetta.”

  Ren shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”

  Her skin drew taut around mouth, wrinkles twisting as they accented her awful broken smile. “Is it beyond comprehension that I could sustain myself for so many years? My magic is all powerful.”

  Ren had already seen that she might be in a bind, but she hadn’t expecting to tackle a two hundred year old witch either. Even if she was posturing, it had to take serious power to sustain life. She had to keep Eunice distracted enough so that she wouldn’t turn her or Joe into an art project before Ren came up with a way out of this.

  “So powerful that it took you two hundred years to plot your revenge?”

  “Without my dagger, it took time to build my power again. I had to do it the hard way, one soul at a time. But I expect after you and your friend, I should have enough power to level Delaney House and everyone in it.” Eunice raised her arms out, as if offering a hug, and Ren was hit full on with a cold blast of air. It startled her, but if she was supposed to quake with fear, it would take far more than that. Maybe not much more, admittedly, but she wouldn’t surrender to a stiff wind.

  She smiled at Eunice and shrugged. “Parlor tricks.”

  “Stupid girl. You think you’re the only special thing on this planet?”

  “Well, up till recently… yes?”

  “You are far from special. And soon you’ll be nothing but a memory.”

  Ren shook her head. Eunice Abernathy was stalling. She threatened plenty, but hadn’t lashed out yet. Maybe she wanted Ren and Joe for collateral. Maybe she was waiting for those awful things to burst through the door.

  “The sooner we do this, the sooner I get to bury you.”

  Ren’s smart mouth got cut off as the wind picked up again and Eunice floated into the air. Her slow shuffling feet were now hovering. Her tired old eyes now glowed with a fierce white light. Ren didn’t need a sixth sense to warn her that she might be in a spot of trouble. They stared across the room at each other, the air crackling with energy that made Ren’s hair stand up more than usual.

  She waited, feeling the tension build between them. The old woman smiled, short jagged teeth greeting Ren again.

  “Are you ready to join your sister?” The words echoed in the room, as Eunice floated there and Ren felt her heart punching against her chest. “I’m going to flay you together so you can enjoy each other’s suffering.”

  Every muscle in Ren’s body tensed. She had only been trained to defend herself from drunken tough guys; she didn’t know anything about fighting magic. If she was going to die, she wanted the last thing she saw to be her hands around Eunice’s throat.

  “I should have shoved your crotchety bag of bones down the stairs when I had the chance.”

  Ren lurched forward, moving as quickly as her muscles would carry her. She put one foot in front of the other, the distance stretching out in front of her with each additional stride. Six paces closer and Eunice hadn’t even begun to react. Her arms sliced the air, wishing it were as easy to close the gap between them as flailing her arms. Twelve paces and Eunice did not seem to grasp the situation yet. Only a handful of steps separated her and the wrinkled old neck. She planted her left foot, waiting for the right to catch up, and lunged. Her muscles compacted into a squat and rel
eased, ejecting her from the solid ground beneath her feet. She couldn’t help but scream, her hands wide and grabbing as she flung herself at Eunice’s prone form.

  Brilliant light flares from Eunice's eyes and her fists clench. An invisible force clamps down on Ren's arms, plucking her out of the air, holding her in place. Gravity would not play along with this as the tension builds in her shoulders.

  Eunice's fists clench tighter, fingers working against her palms. Ren would have preferred to ignore the sensation, but every bit of pressure ground her bones against each other. Even through the pain, she wouldn't let the crone get the better of her.

  “I think I saw something like this on YouTube once.”

  The old eyes don’t flare, but she scowls, bringing her fists together. Ren tries to be strong, ignoring the crushing sensation that is enveloping her, but it’s too much and she starts to whimper. She wants to scream out, but there’s no air, no ability left.

  At least I tried, right? That’s got to count for something.

  Her head twists, wanting to look at Joe one last time before everything fades away. Too little and far too late, Ren admits to herself what she had been ignoring this whole time: her feelings for Joe – the non-sisterly variety – running deeper than she could ever have imagined. It was just disappointing that there would be no opportunity to tell to Joe.

  Joe, who was now upright and leaning heavily on the bed frame, a small kerosene lamp from the bedside table in her shaking hand. There is no clever quip as she throws the lamp in a slow arc. The chimney hits Eunice first, splintering against her skull and cutting her face. The font doesn’t break until it hits the ground, rolling down her robe, dousing the fabric with fuel. Her eyes flare momentarily, and Ren collapses, gasping in the moment of reprieve.

  Eunice stares hard, holding out a clawed hand to Joe. Her mouth open, ready to fulfill whatever threat she is about to utter, when the lamp crashes. Flames spark up immediately, catching the robe on fire.

  She tugs, swatting at the fabric, the fire spreading quickly. She drops to the ground, her concentration broken as she panics, trying to rid herself of the flames. Joe collapses, both girls struggling to pull themselves closer to each other as Eunice rails against her own confines. Shedding the black fabric, she pads herself and scowls, smoldering across the room at them.

  “I’m going to enjoy sucking your souls out through your eyes.”

  Ren and Joe are both too weak to care about threats any longer. Their fingers entwined as they continue to pull closer to each other.

  Eunice’s strange dialect transforms into a strangled cry as she lurches back. Ren turns, seeing what appears to be an arrow piercing Eunice’s forearm as she flails. Eunice continues to scream, and Ren rolls her head toward other voices shouting their way across the room. Colette is nocking a new arrow into her bowstring with Mariel following close behind; William Delaney’s sabre is shimmering with dark gore. Ren opens her mouth to call out, to warn them but only a choked whisper escapes her lips.

  Eunice clenches her teeth, her arms out as the room erupts in a windstorm. Mariel and Colette can only shield their eyes, but the damage is done. As the wind dies, Colette sweeps the room with her bow, but Eunice is no longer there.

  Ren summons every ounce of strength left, tugging her way up Joe’s arm, pulling the girl closer and wrapping her in a tight embrace.

  “Don’t you dare leave me, Joe, don’t you leave.” The tears come like a waterfall now. Ren’s defenses down, her strength gone, the only fight she left in her is the one to keep Joe.

  “I’m so tired, Ren, I just need to sleep. Five minutes.” Joe smiles softly, her eyes closing slowly.

  “No! Stay with me! Stay right here!”

  Her eyes flutter slightly, her mouth upturned weakly as she raises a shaky hand to Ren’s chest. “I’ll stay, right here.”

  Mariel and Colette rush to Ren and Joe, but Ren hardly notices. Her focus remains solely on Joe and the clammy hand falling away from her chest.

  Ren’s words mutate into a long, ugly sound full of pain and sadness as Joe’s eyes close again.

  SEVENTEEN

  In her mind, it plays back over and over. Joe closes her eyes, falling limp in Ren’s weak arms. Suddenly, Mariel and Colette rush in and separate them, sweeping them both away from this awful place. She relives the moment over and over, as if she could do something different each time, something that might make a difference.

  But nothing changes, and the moment continues to repeat.

  She sits bolt upright from her dream, immediately regretting the action. Her body is screaming. Every muscle and bone feels cracked and bruised deeply. She collapses back on the bed, wincing, but at least the pain is ebbing back to dull throb.

  “I have already told you not to try that again. Twice.”

  Ren’s neck protests, but she manages to turn it far enough to see Mariel sitting in the dim light of the room.

  “How did you find us?”

  “We call to each other when we are in trouble. Joe called out first, and then you did – very loudly, I might add. We could feel you searching, we knew you would lead us to Joe.”

  The very mention of the name makes Ren wince.

  “Joe. Is she…?”

  “In a lot of pain, yes. More than you.”

  Ren sat up again, ignoring the pain and throwing off the blankets. “She’s okay? I need to see her.”

  Mariel moves close, putting an arm on Ren’s shoulder as she attempts to stand, holding her to the bed.

  “Relax. You are not going to do Josephine any favors if you get hurt trying to visit her. She is okay, you have only been apart for the day.”

  She eases slightly. Mariel's right: plenty of time to recuperate. But not until she had some answers.

  “What the hell has been going on here? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  She hesitated, pushing strands of her unkempt hair back over her ear. Ren didn’t notice until then: Mariel was a mess. There were dark circles under her eyes, a disheveled appearance to her usually neat exterior. A general air of anxiety circled her, even as she tried to play the caring matron. She’d been worried, badly.

  “When you are rested – “

  “Spill it, Dumbledore.”

  Her shoulders deflated and she sat next to Ren on the bed.

  “Eunice Abernathy has been around a long time. Yes, I knew it was her, but I thought without the dagger, she was without magic. I was wrong; I should have known better. She might live forever if she has the chance to.”

  “She won’t.” She winced as she clenched her fist, feeling the pain and letting it throb. “What about the dagger?”

  “It is her athame, a ritual dagger. She is powerful, but the dagger would double her power. Anyone who wields the dagger can tap into its magic. But someone with her power can use it to restart her life.”

  Ren didn’t like the sound of that. “Restart?”

  “When William,” she hesitated at speaking his name. After all this time, she still missed him that much. “Before he met Eunice, she had restarted her life to be young again. Her father Jacob was just a poor stranger who had been charmed into caring for her. He finally managed to fight the charm enough to separate her from the source of her power and took the opportunity, knowing she would kill him for it.”

  “But William screwed that plan up a little.”

  She nodded with a small smile. “William was a thoughtful and sometimes foolish man. Eunice had every intention of getting her dagger back from him by charming her way through his defenses. Fortunately, William was also a very private person. He did not know why he was so attracted to the dagger – maybe he had been drawn to the power – but he knew he should keep it safe. She failed at every opportunity, and when he and I met, she knew she had lost him. Then saw her opportunity slipping through her fingers to retrieve the dagger. It drove her crazy. She decided that the only way to get it was to kill us.”

  “It wasn’t a fever then.”

 
She shook her head. Her eyes focused on a dark hole in her heart, remembering everything for just a moment before shutting it away again.

  “I suppose for her, it was an easy enough thing to conjure. With us out of the way, she only had to wait for the house to be cleared and she would be complete again.”

  “But you came back.”

  “Watching me come back and retake our home upset her, but retaining my youth was the final straw. Her anger has built all this time, and with it her power, but her body is falling apart without the dagger.”

  “But if her power is still growing, Mother Wight –“

  Mariel smiled in the dark, letting out an impressed laugh. “You really have followed the trail to the bitter end. Mother Wight knows the risks. I tried to convince her to abandon the forest; she will not consider it.”

  “We have to move the athame, dagger, whatever. And Mother Wight. And we have to track down Eunice. And –“ Mariel put a hand on Ren’s shoulder and leaned in.

  “Right now, you need to rest. There will be time to deal with her. She is off licking her wounds somewhere, and we should do the same.”

  “But –“

  Mariel hushed her again. “And you need to think about what you are going to say to Josephine. She plays tough, but she is such a delicate soul.” Ren broke eye contact as she leaned back on the bed, remembering the conversation that more or less led them here.

  “She’s tougher than you think.”

  “It is because she loves you, too.” Ren heard the words, but they bounced around for a minute before settling, her heart skipping a full beat before redoubling its previous effort.

  “How you do you know…”

  Mariel patted Ren on the knee, getting up and opening the door. She almost didn’t acknowledge the question, but stopped in the doorway, looking back at the girl who had grown so much yet looked much more fragile now than she did when they found her in the morgue.