by T. Mikita
Asher complied.
At least four other individuals had clustered around Jules, who was apparently having a seizure. Asher froze when he saw her, but his aunt stepped right in, grabbing the crash cart from the nurse, shouldering out one of the other doctors. “CDC,” she barked. “Why is she not in isolation?”
In that moment of confusion, Winifred did something with her wand, and the entire room stilled, except for Jules who was still shaking with a seizure.
His aunt tipped Jules’ head up and pried open her mouth pouring some sort of powder on her tongue. Jules quieted, but she still looked awful, sweating and pale as death.
“What is wrong with her?” Asher asked.
His aunt raised one of Jules’ eyelids and pronounced, “I don’t think she is possessed.”
“So, are we wheeling her out, Evie? Are you going to do the cleansing now or is it swords and wands?” Winifred asked in a tight voice.
“Cleansing,” decided his aunt. “I don’t want to risk moving her, without being sure, and I don’t want to kill anyone if I don’t have to. You can handle things here, Fred?”
Winifred nodded stiffly. “But I can’t help you,” she said worriedly, her wand still raised. She kept her gaze on the frozen medical staff. “Not without letting go of this spell.”
“Keep the stasis,” his aunt said.
With more expertise than he expected, his aunt disconnected Jules from the many monitors.
“Are you sure that is wise?” Asher said.
“What is wrong with her cannot be cured by medical means,” his aunt said.
“Is it the necromancer?”
“I don’t feel him here,” said his aunt thoughtfully, and the basilisk are just his servants. Even if some are greater servants, Fred will hold them at bay, so I think we may have some time.
“I can’t hold this stasis forever, Evie,” Winifred said looking from one doctor to the other and then to Aunt Evelyn. “If you and Asher are going to do a cleansing, do it.”
“Out of practice, are we?” Evelyn asked as she pulled the blanket from Jules’ form and anointed her forehead and chest with oil.
“I need a second set of hands,” Evelyn said to Asher.
“Just tell me what to do,” he said.
“Pour the salt,” she ordered. “Be sure it is a complete and closed circle. Say the prayer of protection while you do so, and do not break the circle.”
Asher knew that, but he did not argue. He only nodded and took the container his aunt gave him and began to pour out the salt in a careful circle around the bed.
“Remain inside of the circle,” his aunt directed. “Keep Winifred inside of it too.”
His aunt’s attention then switched to the girl in the bed. She spoke arcane words over Jules as she marked her skin with oil. Taking the same finger, she pricked it, and blood welled.
Gooseflesh welled up on Asher’s arms as a wind moved through the room, but he tried to keep his attention on the circle. His aunt, now marked with oil and blood, drew the corners of the circle with a pentagram. When she finished, the air felt suddenly heavier.
“Put your hands on her skin now,” his aunt said and Asher placed his hands at Jules’ shoulders where his aunt had loosened the hospital gown to anoint her. “Now, remember who she is, and call to her. Think of things you have shared,” his aunt said. “Tell her you are here. Be calm and sure. You can bring her back.”
Asher felt goosebumps raise on his own skin. He wasn’t sure he could do this. He wasn’t even exactly sure what his aunt meant, but he was willing to try. He closed his eyes. Jules’ flesh was cool beneath his hands and he was worried for her. “Jules!” he said.
“You do not need to speak aloud,” his aunt said. “Call to her soul. If she is your friend, she will hear you.”
The monitors in the room continued to beep distantly, as his aunt began to pray. Asher concentrated on Jules.
Suddenly for no reason he could think of, the monitors began to scream, going wild. The Gate welled up in Asher’s mind’s eye, dark and threatening. Reaching out like in his nightmares. His talisman grew hot against his skin.
Asher would have yanked his hands away from Jules. Had he done something wrong? But his aunt’s hands lay over his own, keeping him still.
The spell that Winifred was doing failed. The stillness surrounding them broke and suddenly there were nurses and doctors moving.
“Fuck,” muttered his aunt.
At the same time, one of the nurses called, “Security!”
Winifred swished her wand again and the nurse crumpled.
Asher’s eyes widened. What had Winifred done? Was the nurse dead? Was that some sort of stunner spell? Why hadn’t he learned any of this?
“Take Julianna out,” his aunt ordered suddenly and Asher was dumbfounded. He froze in indecision.
“Get her out Asher,” his aunt said again, dragging a foot through the salt line, breaking the circle. “Now, take her head. Hurry,” his aunt ordered and Asher did so. “Get her to the ambulance. It is a secure place.” Winifred was wielding her wand like a dagger, holding off the medical personnel in the hall.
His aunt pushed Jules’ bed towards the door.
“But what about you,” Asher said, as his Aunt shoved him forward.
“Go!” she hissed. “Or all of this will be for nothing.”
Asher began pushing Jules’ bed towards the door.
“Just a minute,” said one of the hospital staff, laying a hand on the gurney.
Asher would have spoken, but at that instant, another nurse hurried into the room, and Asher realized that there was something very wrong. He stifled a gasp as he saw the nurse’s eyes. They were glowing a golden yellow and slitted like a snake’s. She seemed to glare in their direction for a moment and then paused as if listening to some silent voice. Asher felt suddenly nauseous. The sound of his nightmares bombarded him. He could hear the roar of the Gate in his ears. How was that possible?
Then his aunt did something with her hands and a fog surrounded him and Jules. Everything seemed to be wrapped in cotton wool. Sounds were suddenly muted. The hospital staff seemed removed from him. His amulet grew so hot it nearly burned against his chest.
“Go!” his aunt demanded pushing the gurney towards him, helping him guide it through the door. Asher rushed for the elevator pushing the bed in front of him. He thought his aunt was behind him.
Two other attendants, both male, came from the direction where Jules was previously held. He thought they were more doctors or nurses, but their eyes…
Winifred’s high-pitched scream came from further down the hall. “Eleanor! Run!”
Asher turned to see his aunt going back towards the room and her friend. “Get her out,” Evelyn called over her shoulder and then turned back to Winifred and the oncoming men. Evelyn pulled the sword from her back, and decapitated the first man in one quick stroke. Blood poured from his neck wound but the other kept coming.
Asher screamed, uncertain if he should go or stay and help his aunt. She looked wild, holding her bloody sword.
“Go!” she growled again turning to face the next two hospital attendants, who were clearly not hospital personnel at all.
30
Servants of the Master
Asher hurried to the elevator mashing the buttons to get the door to close. One of the yellow-eyed men reached in and the door began to open again. Without a conscious thought, Asher wheeled and kicked him in the face, drawing his own dagger and driving it into the man’s gut in one smooth motion. Blood poured over his hands. Asher shoved the man back and the door closed. Asher hit the button for the lobby repeatedly, smearing blood on the panel, even though he knew it did nothing to hurry the elevator along.
Jules stirred and moaned. “It’s okay, Jules,” he murmured. “I’m going to get you out of here.” He was worried about his aunt. First, he would get Jules out, he thought, and then he would go back.
The elevator door opened and there were other attendants with th
e glowing eyes. Asher stepped forward ready to fight, but one of the nurses just turned away. “He must have gotten off at another floor,” she intoned. “Go! Find them.”
Asher stared for a moment before he realized that his aunt’s spell with the fog must have made him invisible. Asher held his breath attempting to slip the gurney by the Otherworlders. He was nearly at the emergency room door. Then, Jules moaned again. The others turned as one searching for the source of the sound. Clearly the spell did not block everything, but the creatures were not so close now and the outer door whooshed open. In any case, Asher kept his dagger in hand, prepared to fight them off as best he could, but Oliver met him at the door.
“Help’s on the way,” Oliver whispered as he shoved his cell phone into his pocket. He pulled the sheet over Jules’ head and pushed her down. “Be still,” he demanded.
Power flowed with his words, and Jules quieted. Oliver turned the gurney away from the door, where the group of the creatures now stood, moving silently in the other direction.
“Where are you going?” Demanded an attendant as they passed.
“Morgue,” Oliver said calmly, taking the other end of the gurney. The dignified man seemed to bring a moment of stillness to the hospital staff. They simply believed him. Asher and Oliver pushed with some speed.
“In a hurry?” asked another man in a low growl, yellow eyes flashing.
“If that poor girl really is dead, she’s in no rush,” said another one. “It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”
“Oh, that’s not necessarily true,” said the first man with a low chuckle.
Asher paused for a moment, remembering how the creature in his parents’ bedroom had risen up from the dead to attack them. Thoughts of the necromancer doing that to Jules nearly paralyzed him.
“Keep going,” Oliver urged, as Jules suddenly sat up screaming. She clawed at the blanket trying to get off of the gurney, and would have fallen. Asher caught her as the Otherworlders turned toward them. Oliver pulled a long knife from his belt. It glowed with a pale blue light and Oliver did not hesitate.
“Carry her,” he said, and the two men abandoned the gurney and any semblance of subterfuge. Asher lifted Jules in his arms. Oliver took point, weapon in hand.
The first man came for them snarling. Not a man, Asher thought as he realized the creature had the same yellow eyes as the others. Oliver stabbed the thing.
“Fuck man!” Asher shouted. “We’re in a hospital. “
“Better for him,” Oliver said, “as long as he doesn’t eat a doctor.”
“Was that a basilisk?” Asher asked.
Oliver nodded. He kept walking his bloody knife held loosely in his hand. “Don’t get bit,” Oliver cautioned. “Although if you survive their venom usually gives you some talent.” The other creature hissed at them showing long fangs.
Usually? Asher hesitated. He wanted to scream, but it didn’t matter. He was here and he was doing this.
Two more of the basilisks attacked, one snatching at Jules’ leg and trying to pull her from Asher. Jules awoke and hissed right back at the thing. It took all of Asher’s strength to hold her as Oliver dispatched two more of the creatures with swift efficiency.
Someone discovered the first snake-man lying bloodied on the floor. A nurse knelt beside him and attempted to stop the bleeding while yelling a code. Asher realized that among the basilisks dressed in hospital scrubs were actual hospital personnel. Real doctors and nurses, who didn’t know the threat they were up against. He hesitated thinking the doctors and nurses would not fare well against any creatures remaining alive, but he couldn’t think of that now, not with Jules in his arms.
Asher kept walking, keeping pace with Oliver, as doctors rushed to help what they thought was a man bleeding on the floor, ignoring Oliver and Asher. Actual security showed up and tried to clear the area.
Asher adjusted Jules in his arms and followed Oliver. He kept expecting someone to stop them, but except for the were-snakes, no one did. They were ignored by the doctors completely. Was the fog enacted by his aunt still obscuring them? Could they not see them?
Oliver opened the back of the ambulance just as his aunt’s body guards pulled into the parking lot. The team poured out of the car and into the hospital. Asher hesitated, again staring at them. Should he go back to help his aunt, he wondered?
“Get in,” Oliver told Asher.
Asher struggled to get a squirming Jules into the back of the ambulance and Oliver tried to help. He noticed the blood on Asher. “Did one of them get you?” Oliver asked worried.
“Not my blood,” Asher said, and Oliver nodded. He shut the door and hurried around the ambulance. Several more basilisks rushed the vehicle and Oliver killed one more of the creatures before he slid into the driver’s seat. He hit the lights and they were on their way, sirens screaming.
Several were-snakes clung to the sides of the vehicle. A bloody appendage like the claw of a lizard scratched at the window while Asher watched horrified. Eventually, the thing fell off while Asher whispered a litany of relevant words. ”Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Meanwhile, Jules had quieted. She sat watching him with a blank vacant stare. Asher swallowed attempting to regain control of himself.
“Jules,” he said gently. “It’s me. It’s Asher.”
She gave no sign that she understood.
“Lie down,” Asher said at last, giving her a little push, easing her down on the ambulance’s gurney. Jules followed his direction, but she still watched him with wide unseeing eyes. She seemed catatonic. He kept talking to her, telling her everything would be alright, but it was clear that Jules was far from alright.
“Tie her hands down,” Oliver suggested. “The magic is going soft.”
“What?” Asher asked.
“Tie her hands,” Oliver ordered.
Asher had no intention of restraining Jules. She wouldn’t hurt him. She had been through enough. None of this would have happened if she had been safe at Whitehall.
Asher pulled Jules onto his lap and soothed her stroking her hair, trying to be calm, but in that moment, Jules grabbed his throat with a superhuman strength. She squeezed and Asher could not even call out her name. He could not even tell Oliver he was in trouble. He couldn’t make a sound. His eyes watered from lack of oxygen as her fingers closed as if they were encased in steel. He felt his skin give under her nails, and blood trickled down his neck.
“Choose, Pendragon, your life, or hers,” said a deep voice from Jules’ mouth. It was not Jules. Asher could do nothing against the thing. He was going to die. Jules. No. He thought, but it was no use. Her hand was like a vise squeezing the life from him. He tugged feebly at her grip.
“Call your sword, Pendragon,” the voice whispered hauntingly. “Call it and fight me for the damsel,” said the voice, but Asher had no idea what to do. He didn’t know how to summon the sword. If he weren’t in such agony from lack of breath, he might have laughed. The word damsel, coming from Jules’ mouth was ludicrous.
“Brace yourself, our carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin,” Oliver said. “Did you bind your friend?”
Oliver glanced in the rearview mirror and Asher caught his eye just a moment before spots obscured his vision. His lungs were screaming for air, but nothing could have prepared him for the sudden upheaval as the ambulance suddenly lurched and turned back into the original black SUV. The vehicle weaved erratically in traffic, just missing a white Toyota that opted to go off the road to avoid a wreck.
Somehow, Oliver managed to keep the car on the highway while Asher wrenched himself loose. Oliver hit the brakes and Jules was thrown back slamming into the side of the vehicle. She fell limply onto the floor like a lifeless doll.
“She tried to kill me,” Asher said in a hoarse voice. He sat rubbing his throat and coughing.
“That wasn’t your friend.” Oliver called as he straightened the vehicle.
Asher knew that. That thing obviously wasn’t Jules.
&
nbsp; “Is she still in there?” Asher asked looking at her unconscious form.
“We can hope,” said Oliver. “But in any case, bind her hands as I told you to. We have to keep moving.” Oliver moved back onto the road. “We are not far from Whitehall now.”
Asher did not think of how unlikely it was that they had traveled such a distance in such a short time. He did not question. He did what he was told, binding Jules’ hands with less reluctance than he felt originally. She had tried to strangle him, and more than that, she had almost succeeded.
“Do you think we can revive her?” Asher asked.
“I’m more worried about Lady Pendragon and Dame Winifred,” Sir Oliver said.
“What about my aunt?” Asher asked, once his stomach returned back to its normal position and his throat cleared enough that he could speak.
“She will be fine,” Oliver said but his voice sounded doubtful as if he were trying to convince himself. “She’s strong. They will probably teleport and beat us back to Whitehall.”
Asher remembered how the spell worked to send Oliver and the ambulance to the hospital. It was pretty precise. They shouldn’t be here. If his aunt and Winifred could teleport Oliver and the ambulance once, they should be able to do it again. Although they were close, they were not actually back at Whitehall, and Asher thought that had been the plan. Obviously, the plan went to hell quite a while ago.
“Why didn’t we appear back at Whitehall instead of changing back to the SUV on the highway?” Asher asked.
Oliver didn’t answer.
“Oliver?” Asher demanded.
“It was Dame Winifred’s spell on the ambulance,” Oliver explained. “But Lady Pendragon’s on me. They needed the power for something else. They let the spells go, almost in unison, so it was a planned release, but still troublesome.”
Asher stared at him, but Oliver just concentrated on driving, pushing the speed limit. “Why did they need the power?” Asher asked.
“That is the question of the hour.”
Asher could feel his tension rise. “We need to go back,” He said looking through the rear window, back to the hospital which was already miles away.