Haunted (43 page)

“But the host
didn’t
die,” I said. “She was resuscitated, wasn’t she?”

Dachev’s jaw locked. Another opportunity to mock me lost. After a moment, he answered with a nod.

“Out loud,” I said.

“Yes,” he said through his teeth. “She was brought back to life. People were nearby. Someone found her—”

“And resuscitated her.” I walked to his side. “Where did you find out how to do this? Is there a book?”

A short laugh. “Book? Books are for those who lack the mental capacity to think for themselves. I figured it out by myself.”

His eyes darkened.

“Uh, wanna try that one again?” I asked.

He let out another stream of profanity. I paused, thinking, then laughed loud enough that the sudden noise made him jump.

“It was an accident, wasn’t it?” I said. “You were tracking the Nix. You found her, and as you were trying to figure out what to do next, her partner almost died. You saw the Nix’s spirit and you cut her a deal. Help you escape from the Fates or you’d sic an angel on her. It wasn’t planned. It was pure, dumb luck.”

Dachev snarled, then spat on the floor.

“No need to answer that one,” I said.

I untied his bindings.

“There, freed as promise—”

He lunged to his feet and hit me, knocking me back. I recovered, but before I could retaliate, he’d backed off. He crossed the room, hands clenched, then turned to face me.

“You have what you came for,” he said. “Now drink your hellsbane potion and go.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will.”

A tiny smile tweaked his lips. “No, pretty one, I don’t think so.”

He lifted his hand, fist clenched, turning up palm up, like a magician about to reveal the hidden quarter. When he opened his hand, I knew what would be in it. I started to run even before I saw the vial of hellsbane potion. I was three-quarters of the way across the room when he turned the uncapped bottle upside down. The potion spilled onto the floorboards.

My body hit his, slamming him into the wall. I snatched the bottle from him, but it was empty.

Dachev grabbed my arm and threw me down. As I fell, I tried to snag his leg and pull him off balance, but missed. I hit the floor hard with him on top of me. I tried to roll out from under him, but he had his full weight on me.

“Don’t struggle, pretty one,” he murmured. “Struggling only makes it hurt more. I’m so sorry about your potion. But I have a present for you. Something to replace it.”

Still atop me, he reached down into his pocket, took something out, then brought it up to my face. It was one of the other man’s chiseled stone knives.

“I think we’ll have fun with this,” he said. “Much more fun than we’d have with your potion.”

I started to cast a binding spell. The moment the first words left my mouth, his eyes widened, with confusion, then fury. I saw my mistake, and tried to rush through the incantation. His fist slammed into my cheek. Bone crackled and a tooth pinged into my throat. I wheezed a cough and the tooth flew out on a string of spittle. I started to cast again, but Dachev slammed his hand down on my throat.

“A witch?” he snarled, bringing his face to mine. “So that is what I recognized. You didn’t care to enlighten me. You didn’t dare, did you?”

Again, I tried to push him off, but he had me perfectly pinned, so I couldn’t do more than glance awkward blows off his back.

“Do you think I don’t know how to hold you, witch?” he said. “At my trial, some thought I used a sedative on my victims. Others believed I knocked them unconscious. But I didn’t. What is the pleasure in cutting an unfeeling carcass?”

I narrowed my eyes, hoping to summon some bit of my Aspicio powers and blind him.

“Don’t give me that look, witch,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t shock you. I can see it in your eyes. You remind me of her, you know. My Nix.”

He lifted the knife. “That’s not to say I’ll spare you. After all, she did betray me. I forgive her. But that doesn’t keep me from imagining how I’d like to betray her. Love and hate. The same impulse, the same passion.”

I flicked my fingers in a knock-back spell, managing to gasp the single word needed to cast the sorcerer spell. Nothing happened.

“Useless without your spells, aren’t you, witch?” He smiled. “Well, without your spells and your kicks and your punches. You do know how to fight. None of my other victims did. Quite disappointing.”

I started to narrow my eyes again, to retry blinding him, then stopped myself.
Give it up and stick with what will work.
I had to choose carefully, though. The more powerful the spell, the more spell-power it required. If I cast something big and it didn’t incapacitate him, I’d be screwed—unable to cast anything stronger than a cover spell. I emptied my brain and began the mental preparation for a high-level witch spell.

Dachev continued, “I think I will let you fight. But first, I should let you know what fate you are fighting. We’ll start with a sampling. Nothing too disabling. Not an arm or a leg. Perhaps a finger or two? No. That might still impede you, and give me unfair advantage. Let’s say an ear. Or perhaps the nose. Yes, that’s it. I’ll cut off your ear or split open your nose.” He leaned into my face, lips pulling back from his teeth as he smiled. “Your choice.”

I feigned struggling, to buy more time to prep the spell. Dachev pinned me easily.

“Enough of that,” he said. “If you don’t choose, and choose quickly, I’ll do both.”

I mouthed something.

He frowned. “What was that?”

Again, I opened my mouth, as if struggling to speak, but only a choked gasp came out.

He eased back on my throat. Mouth slightly open, I whispered a few words of the incantation, but knew I didn’t have enough time to finish.

“Ear,” I said. “Take my ear.”

I managed to get out another line before his arm clamped down on my throat again. I closed my eyes as the knife went to my ear. The blade sliced into the tender skin between my earlobe and my face, and began cutting up, through the soft lobe. When he hit cartilage, he shifted forward for a better cutting angle. As he did, the pressure lessened on my throat, and I managed to whisper the last line of the incantation.

Dachev screamed, an eardrum-piercing wail. I shot out from under him and leapt up. He stayed on the floor, doubled up, screaming as if his guts were on fire. Which they were. I’d used a fireball spell, conjuring the same simple, nearly useless fireball that Paige used. With one important difference. This fireball was conjured in the belly of the target, producing a few moments of blistering agony, followed by a quick death. Unless you were already dead, that is.

Dachev rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach. I walked over to him, bent down, and snatched the knife from his hand.

“If you can hear me, it’ll be over in a minute,” I said. “The fire, that is. The burning, well, that’ll take a while to heal.” I leaned over him and smiled down. “In the meantime, you’ll need plenty of bed rest. I think I can help with that.”

I knelt behind Dachev. I grabbed his leg with one hand, the knife in the other, preparing to cut his ham-strings. If I was stuck here until someone rescued me, I damned well wasn’t giving Dachev any chance of pay-back. As he writhed and screamed, in too much pain to try to escape—or even know what I was doing—I cut away his pant leg.

“What did it do to him?” asked a voice behind me.

The club-man stood in the doorway, weapon in hand. He stared at Dachev, baby-smooth brow wrinkling. His gaze turned to me, and he smiled, showing off an orthodontist’s wet dream worth of crooked teeth.

“I thought it was gone,” he said as he stepped into the room, club thumping against his leg.

“Maybe it stayed to play.” The knife-man walked in, a homemade blade in each hand. “Does it want to play some more?”

Still gripping the knife, I leapt to my feet.

“Do you see how I play?” I said, waving at Dachev, who was still moaning and writhing. “I don’t think I’m the kind of playmate you’re looking for. But if you both leave now, I’ll forget I saw you and—”

The club-man rushed me. I cast a binding spell, but my powers were too weakened, and it only trapped him for a split second before he broke free. Right behind him came the knife-man, the werewolf, and a redhead I hadn’t seen earlier. Another shadow slid in through the door, but I didn’t stay to see who it was.

I wheeled, ran, and smashed headfirst through the window. Quite the dramatic exit…though I’d rather not have been exiting at all. As much as I hated running away, I’d had enough practice rounds with these guys earlier to know I couldn’t stave them off for long in a fight, not without any spell-power. Better to get my ass back in those woods until I figured out how I was getting it back to my dimension.

As I tore around to the back of the house, running footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. Knife-guy was already out. He swung back his arm…and I ran smack into a giant air-bag.

As I stumbled back, I caught sight of my air-bag obstacle—a man with three chins and a gut that could house a full-term pregnancy.

“Going somewhere?” he rumbled.

A blade sank into my shoulder blade. I twisted and kicked the knife-man off my back. The big guy grabbed me by the shoulders. I wriggled out of his grasp, and danced away…only to find myself surrounded. Even the bird-man had now joined the group, vines still dangling from his wrists, flat gray eyes simmering with fury.

“Six against one?” I said. “Now, that’s hardly fair. Tell you what, you guys pick a champion, and the rest of you just sit back—”

Bird-man, the werewolf, and the big guy all ran at me. I whirled out of the way, but the others closed in to block my escape routes. I looked around, found the clearest spot, then dove for it, casting a cover spell as I flew.

When I hit the ground, I vanished. Again, everyone stopped to stare in momentary confusion. Before they could recover, I sprang to my feet and ran for the forest.

44

WHEN I STARTED RUNNING, THE MEN WERE RIGHT BEHIND
me, but soon they began to drop back, unable to keep up the pace. I kept waiting—hoping—for the footfalls to peter out, but I should have known they wouldn’t. These guys hadn’t seen a victim in decades, even centuries; they sure as hell weren’t going to give up the moment their first one took off.

I couldn’t take them all on. Trsiel had said the Fates would send someone after me if I didn’t return. The only thing I hated worse than running away was hanging around waiting to be rescued, but this wasn’t the time for a show of independence. The smart thing to do was hide and wait. Stung like hell, but the alternative would hurt a lot worse. Stand and fight, and there might not be enough of me left to rescue. It was my fault I needed rescue in the first place. Suckered by a magician’s pick-pocket trick. I could say it was an all-time personal low, but I’d be lying.

As I ran deeper into the forest, the night took over, enveloping me in black. I tried my light-ball spell again. This time it took hold—dim but steady. Dim was good, though. At full strength, it would have been like running with an Olympic torch, an obvious target for my pursuers. My night vision would have been even better, but I didn’t even hope for that to kick in.

When I hit the fork in the path, I veered down the right-hand branch, heading deeper into the woods. After a few minutes, I caught a glimpse of a clearing to my right. Instinctively I focused my long-range vision. Of course, that failed. Without slowing, I swung my light-ball in that direction. Through the trees, I could make out the dim shapes of houses. Shit! More villages? Why not. Maybe that’s what this dimension was, not a single smattering of houses, but a whole world of villages, each with its own mob of killers.

I hit a thin patch of woods where someone had cut down a handful of trees, clearing an unintentional window to the village beyond. I’d seen this same open patch before, this same pattern of cut trunks. As I raced past the clearing and looked through to the village, I knew what I’d see. The stone houses I’d just left.

It was the same village. The seemingly endless forest was an illusion. Walk north from the village, and you’d find yourself at the south end. That was why Dachev headed back the way he’d come when he thought I’d kept running down the path earlier—so he could head me off when I unintentionally looped back around. The moment I thought this, I saw a shape moving through the trees ahead. I glanced over my shoulder. More shapes running that way.

I dove into the forest on the left. Even as I crashed through the bushes, hearing nothing behind me, I knew I wouldn’t get far. Not only had I lost the advantage of speed, but I was cutting their path for them. Any minute now, they’d be close enough to see.

I stopped running, dowsed my light-ball, slipped off to the left, and cast a cover spell. A moment later, the forest erupted in crashes and curses, as they stumbled through the dark looking for me. Should I stay here, covered, until the cavalry rode in? I was relatively safe, but would my rescue team know where to find me? I had to trust that they would…or that I’d hear them. So long as I was hidden here, with the killers fumbling in the dark—

A light flickered to my right. As I strained my eyes in that direction, I saw orange flame bouncing through the darkness, approaching from the west. A torch. Someone had gone back to the village for a torch. Within moments, all of them carried a lit tree branch, swinging it about and peering into the darkness.

“She’s using magic,” Dachev called. “She can make herself invisible, but she cannot move. If you bump into her, she will reappear.”

A few grunts of satisfaction.

“There are two ways we can do this,” Dachev continued, voice ringing over the shuffle of footsteps and the spit of the torches. “Competition or cooperation.”

“I help no one,” club-man’s voice rumbled. “I find it, it is mine.”

“Then you do that. Those who want to help me find her, come here and we’ll split up, do this systematically.”

“And then you will take her,” someone said.

A chorus of agreement.

“No, then I will let you have her. All who help me will get a turn. And when you are done, she is mine. If that sounds fair to you, come over here. The rest, search on your own.”