Haunted (45 page)

Slow down. Take it slow and think. There has to be something else here you can use.
As I looked around the room, my gaze slid over the four limbs. Arm bones would be too short. A leg bone might work, but first I’d have to get the flesh off of it. I knew a spell for flaying, but it only removed the skin layer and wouldn’t do anything for the tissue beneath.

If only I still had Dachev’s knife. I should have gone back for it. Carelessness. Pure carelessness. I was too accustomed to relying on spells.

I crept over to the nearest leg and bent down, running through my list of witch spells. Behind me, the thing on the floor chattered and made a strangled hissing sound, as if sensing what I was considering. I ignored it. Wasn’t like he was going to need this anymore, and if I could use it, that’s all that mattered.

After another moment’s consideration, I shook my head and straightened. There was no easy way to deflesh the bone. Either I tried to move the stone without a pry bar or I went deeper into the cave in search of another tool. As the chattering continued behind me, I quickly rejected option two. No way in hell I was going anyplace that might bring me into contact with the creature who’d done this. I wasn’t that brave…or that stupid.

45

AT THE DOORWAY, I STRAINED TO HEAR THOSE DRAGGING
footsteps, and picked up distant echoes of them. Good. At least I knew where he was—and that he wasn’t anywhere near me.

I hurried to the entrance, then cast my cover spell, my back to the tunnel. Again I listened. The footsteps were still faint. I cast my telekinesis spell, leaned into the boulder, and heaved. It didn’t move.

Before I could push again, I heard the man coming back. I sidestepped to the wall, and pressed against it. I closed my eyes before casting the cover spell. If I needed to cast a binding spell, I’d stand a better chance of success if I could fully concentrate on it. More than that, I closed my eyes because I knew if I kept them open and saw that limping figure drawing closer, I’d panic.

As the footsteps approached, I tensed, mentally reciting the binding spell, ready to cast it if he bumped me. What if it didn’t work? What if I let him get that close, and I couldn’t stop him? And if I
could
bind him? Where would I go? This had to be the only exit. I could bind him and still be trapped, just waiting for the spell to snap—

The smell of rotting meat washed over me. The footsteps had stopped. Where was he? Right in front of me? Why the hell had I closed my eyes? He could be right there, looking at me, cover spell blown, and I wouldn’t know it. Of all the stupid—!

A grunt. So close that the exhaled air tickled my torn ear. Shit! The moment he moved so much as an inch, he would bump me and my cover would break. I had to act now. I was about to open my mouth to cast the binding spell, when I realized, even if it worked, I was trapped. I’d backed myself into the corner and he was blocking that corner. To get past him, I’d need to shove him aside, and that would break the binding spell. Goddamn it! How could I be so monumentally—

Stop!

Get past him first, then cast the binding spell. Have a fireball ready to distract him—the external kind, easy to cast.
I tensed, ready to leap. Then, with another grunt, he turned and walked back into the cave.

The moment his footsteps receded as far as the doorway to that chamber of horrors, I opened my eyes, then recast the cover spell. He stopped at the room entrance, did a quick visual sweep, then, muttering away again, continued down the main passage.

I looked at the boulder. No time for fooling around with low-level magic. I needed to use the major telekinetic spell. It would drain my power supply completely, meaning if it wasn’t enough to move this rock and he came back, I was screwed. Might as well just hand him a limb and let him start ripping.

Oh, stop that. Just because you’d be spell-powerless, doesn’t make you powerless. If he comes back, you’ll do what you’d do in any situation like that. Fight and run, run and fight. He’s a man. Nothing more. You’ll fight and you’ll run and you’ll pray that someone comes to get you out of this hell before it’s too late.

Pep talk over, I rubbed my hands over my face, pushing past the lingering wisps of panic. Then I put my hands against the boulder, dug my feet into the dirt floor, cast the major telekinesis spell, and heaved.

The rock shuddered. I kept pushing. Another shudder, then it began to move, inching up from the depression.

A noise behind me.
Thump. Drag. Thump. Drag.

A cover spell flew to my lips, but I forced it back. If I broke the telekinesis cast, it would be an hour or more before I could recast it, and even something as low-voltage as a cover spell might not work now, with my power level so low.

Keep pushing.

A grunt echoed down the corridor behind me. A different kind of grunt. One of surprise. Then the footsteps sped up. A roar of exultation. He could see me.
Shit! Turn and run. It’s your only chance.

No! Push harder. Cast the spell again and push like your life depends on it.

I closed my eyes, cast the telekinesis spell, and threw everything I had into one final shove. The rock shuddered, then jumped out of the hole. Fingers grabbed my shoulder. I whirled, kicking blindly. A sharp grunt as my foot connected. I twisted, dove for the narrow opening, and pushed my arms and torso through. One leg made it out. Then fingers dug into my other ankle. A tremendous wrench. I flew back, hitting the dirt of the hillside, wedged now, one leg in, one out. He pulled again. Pain ripped through me as my legs scissored, hips threatening to dislocate.

In that moment, the option I’d been trying so hard to fight sprang unbidden into my head. I heard Kristof’s voice.

If you get stuck in there, absolutely stuck, you don’t quit on me, either—you fight, even if it means you need that damned sword to do it.

I’d promised him I’d do that, and I would, if it came to that. But it hadn’t yet. Not just yet.

I held myself as still as I could, struggling against the urge to claw my way out. The second his grip relaxed, as he braced for another heave, I kicked the leg trapped in his hands, not pulling it out, but kicking back, at him. Another grunt of surprise, and his grip loosened. I jerked my leg back again, and his grip slid along my ankle, tightening again around my sneaker. One big heave, and my foot flew free of my shoe and I sailed face-first to the ground.

A roar from the cavern. As I scrambled up, I saw his arms flailing through the opening, clawing at the air as he tried to push himself through the narrow gap. I didn’t stay to see whether he’d succeed. The second I was on my feet again, I was off and running.

For the first few minutes, I ran blindly, tree branches whipping my face, stumbling as undergrowth caught my feet, tripping along in one shoe, fumbling through the inky blackness. As the cave fell farther behind, I slowed enough to listen for sounds of pursuit. Nothing. On the heels of that relief came a mental curse. What the hell was I doing charging through the forest like a panicked deer? Had I forgotten the others? Six or seven more killers combing the woods, searching for me?

I stopped to get my bearings. The forest was silent. After another moment, I shook myself, bent down, and removed my other shoe. Easier to run in none than one. I tucked the shoe under a bush—no sense giving my trackers any clues. Then I straightened and cast a light-ball. Nothing happened. Was I that low? Dumb question, really. I knew I was that low on spell-power. I could feel it, a barely-there pulse in my head where normally there was a steady stream of energy.

I closed my eyes, leaned against a tree, and waited. After a few minutes, I cast again. The light-ball appeared for a couple of seconds, then fizzled out with a faint
pop.
I swallowed a growl of frustration and rolled my shoulders, trying to relax. No sense running in complete darkness. Wait for the spell.

A twig cracked behind me. As I pushed forward from the tree, a sharp point dug into my shoulder, in the same spot knife-man had stabbed me, and I bit back a yelp.

“Thank you so much for that flare,” Dachev whispered in my torn ear. “Most kind of you to let me know where you were.”

I back-kicked and caught him in the shins. The torch flew from his hand. As he went down, he slashed the knife. The stone blade sliced through the back of my thigh and I stumbled. He leapt at me. I twisted out of the way, but he stabbed again, this time cutting through my other calf. I roundhoused with my right leg. Pain shot through the split thigh muscle, but I kicked with everything I had and caught him in the gut. He flew back into the tree. As he hit, the knife fell from his hand. I wanted that knife. God, how I wanted it. But I knew if I lunged for it, he’d jump me. So I did the next best thing and kicked it as it fell, sending it sailing into the darkness.

Dachev pitched forward and hit me in the side. As I wheeled around, catching my balance, a sound from deep in the forest stopped me cold. Running footsteps. Multiple sets of running footsteps. The others could hear us and they were coming.

In a spell-free fight, I could probably have bested Dachev.
Wounded
and in a spell-free fight, that “probably” had already dropped to a “hopefully.” My chances of taking on Dachev plus all the others, while in this condition, were nil. Absolutely nil and I wasn’t fool enough to pretend otherwise.

So I ran.

I cast my light-ball. This time it held, as dim as an almost-dead flashlight, but steady enough that I could see by. And, yes, as Dachev tore after me, I knew the light-ball was giving him a beacon to follow, but I couldn’t worry about that. Stumble around in the dark forest and I’d be dead the moment the others arrived with their torches.

I managed to stay ahead of Dachev, but not easily. Nor did I put any more distance between us. I was barefoot, with one injured thigh and one injured calf. It was only determination that kept me running at all. Determination and the knowledge that if I stopped running, I’d hurt a hell of a lot worse than I did right now.

A noise sounded ahead of me. Shit! Had someone circled around? The noise wafted through the night air. A low mumbling. Oh, goddamn it! The caveman. He
had
made it past that boulder. In my headlong rush to escape Dachev, I’d taken the clearest path I’d found—and that path had been the clearest because I’d cleared it earlier. I’d retraced my steps right back to that goddamned cave. Of all the idiotic things I’d done tonight, this topped them all.

No, wait. Maybe not so stupid. Maybe damned clever…if unintentionally so. It was a risk. A big one. And if I failed—
Don’t think of that. Concentrate on the moment.

I pinpointed the cave monster’s location. Off to my left. Then I veered toward it.

A few moments later, I could make out his shuffling shape against the trees. His face flashed, pale against the blackness as he looked up, seeing my light. Then he saw me. His eyes lit up and he lumbered forward.

I cast the binding spell. He kept moving. I started to swerve. Then he stopped, frozen in place. I balled up all my courage and ran right past him, so close that the rotting meat smell of him filled my nostrils.

I tore past and listened. From behind me came a gasp. Then an oath and the sound of feet skidding in the dirt, trying to stop.

I broke the binding spell. The cave man roared. Dachev screamed. And I kept running. As for what happened next—didn’t know, didn’t care. If Dachev suffered the same fate as that thing in the cave, well, I’m sure none of his victims would have judged the punishment too harsh.

I kept running until I found myself in the village. Seemed the safest place to be, if everyone else was out in the forest looking for me. I’d just hide out here and—

A knife flew from the darkness and buried itself between my ribs. As I doubled over, I saw knife-man step from the shadows. He smiled and lifted another blade. I yanked the first one out and spun out of the way. Or at least I tried to spin, but ended up more stumbling in a half-circle, legs ready to give way, fresh pain now slicing through my torso. I managed to avoid the knife throw, though, and that was all that mattered.

Knife-man ran at me. As I recovered my balance, another man ran toward the road—Asian, about my age, short and muscular, with modern clothes. Shit! How many were there?

Knife-man whacked a fist into the side of my rib cage. I stumbled, then caught myself and whirled around, blade in my hand. The knife hit him in the shoulder. His eyes widened. As he fell back, my first thought was “Hmmm, didn’t think I hit him
that
hard.” Then another blade flashed in the moonlight. A sword, slicing up, as knife-man fell back, screaming.

I followed the sword to the hand of the newcomer.

He met my gaze, and brandished a wide smile. “Katsuo.”

“Oh, thank God,” I murmured. “Please tell me you have hellsbane potion.”

He laughed. “For two.”

At a noise from the end of the road, we both turned to see four shapes running at us.

“And not a moment too soon, it seems,” Katsuo said. “Catch.”

He tossed the vial. I caught it just as knife-man struggled to his feet. I kicked him back, then uncapped my vial. Both bird-man and the werewolf rushed me from opposite sides.

“Sorry, guys,” I said. “Gotta run.”

I dumped the potion into my mouth.

46

I LANDED BACK IN THAT LITTLE ROOM WITH THE DOOR
that led to the killers’ hell. Trsiel was there waiting for me. I knew he’d been worried, and he’d want to know what had happened, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I brushed past him with a murmured “I got it.” He tried to follow, telling me I needed healing, but I hurried down the hall to another room. When I opened the door, Kristof was there, right where I’d left him.

For a moment, I just stood in the doorway, legs trembling, ready to give way under me. Kristof crossed the room in two long strides, scooped me up, and gave me a fierce hug. Then he closed the door behind us, carried me across the room, and lowered me to the floor.