The Beast Within

by D L Goddard

  Anya thought about all those dying in the hallway, knowing the Enchantress truly was the most ruthless heartless being she had ever had the misfortune to meet. Up until then, Anya had thought Lord Savage was the most bestial creature alive until she had met Lirima. He was a babe playing cruel games compared to the Enchantress. The Troll King continued and she focused on what he was saying.

  “Then, I got this crazy idea; it was as if the sword was talking to me. The dragon seemed to be hurting, like it was afraid and frightened. An image of its home in the mountains with two huge eggs was plastered on my eyes and suddenly I understood what I had to do. The sword was almost pulling me forward toward a monstrous creature deathly afraid and willing to kill anything that got in her way of finding her eggs. I felt as if the sword was fixed in my hand. Surrendering to the magic, I ran forward as fast as I could; trying not to kill myself and cursing like the bloody fool I was. As soon as the sword touched the dragon it sought her heart. I slammed it into the beast’s beating heart as hard as I could, shoving it up to the hilt. Then, the lights went out as the world exploded.

  But the funny thing is … I felt the dragon thank me and felt the magic reverse. I know I haven’t killed her, she’s back in Laconia. Somehow … the sword reversed the magic and helped her return where her heart truly was. By ‘killing’ her, we managed to destroy the spell and she is back to where she was before the Enchantress bespelled her. But in the explosion, all that magic has opened the final door. The dragon must have been standing right next to the dungeon door. At least we don’t have to do that again. God’s … is there nothing that woman won’t stoop to? She’s determined to prevent us getting to them, but somehow Lirima is stopping the Light from using her magic. The Light can’t seem to prevent her working her dark magic. She must be impossibly strong. How are we going to stop her?”

  They all stood in a small group facing the door. ‘How indeed?’ But they all knew that to save the Keeper and the Living Light … they had to destroy the Enchantress. But facing the darkness that seemed to flow from the blasted doorway … the little group were fresh out of ideas.

  **********

  Lord Adam Savage was tied on his knees, his hands bound behind his back. He had been held with his head pulled backward straining his neck. Lirima had held his hair tightly, kissing his lips one last time as she slit his throat with the sacrificial knife, blood dripping into a large bowl surrounded by black candles that guttered and flickered in the darkness. The smoke from the herbs she had burnt using the candles filled the room making Arahir’s eyelids heavy and sting. He felt totally unlike himself, weak as a kitten and unable to move. Adam’s blood was smeared on Arahir’s heart as the ritual for breaking the bond was carried out. It was then that the Beast realized she had brought Adam along because she needed the blood of one who cared for her to initiate the spell.

  For the first time … Arahir felt sorry for Lord Savage. He was a brutal sadistic beast of a man even though outwardly he was the perfect man that made women’s hearts beat faster. But he too was only a pawn in the Enchantress’ game. It was too ironic, but the Beast still felt sorry for him. Right at the end … Adam too had felt totally used. Arahir hated anyone being used, and in spite of all Lord Savage had done, he had felt all he had done to others and understood himself a pawn in a bigger game. All this time the petty Lord had thought he would rule beside his beloved Lirima, but the Enchantress was a selfish ruler and she would not share with anyone. The Beast knew once he had outlived his usefulness … the Enchantress would find a way to kill him as well.

  Arahir closed his eyes. He was trying to conserve his strength, but even in his stupor, he felt afraid of the pain breaking completely from his beloved Anya would cause. Somehow Arahir had worked out that if blood was needed for the lesser ritual of breaking a bond then, what was needed for the much greater magic required for forcing the joining. Was blood still needed? And whose would it have to be? Arahir could not carry out his part of the task he was given until the bond was formed and his heart was filled with loathing at being bound to a creature as loathsome and evil as the stunningly beautiful Enchantress.

  His eyelids closed and his head dropped. He was asleep within moments. He didn’t see the Enchantress begin the early stages of the ritual. Candles were everywhere and the lower dungeon looked like a magical grotto … but with a definite gothic feel to it. Lines were radiating from the now pristine clay bowl with new occult symbols drawn on the outsides. She had traced burning lines from the bowl at the center, to link to her and the sleeping Arahir. And more ominously, there was a place prepared for another victim who would bleed for her, making the full break and binding possible. Even if only a few drops were used, the ritual would work. But Lirima preferred to kill those involved ensuring the Keeper had no will but hers. If less blood was spilled then, Arahir would be able to still do as he wished in spite of the bond to her. That wasn’t what she wanted at all.

  Lirima smiled feeling stirred at the sight of the beautiful body of the man she had lusted after for millennia asleep on the flags. He wore only a short pair of breeches covering what she knew lay underneath. After all … she had tried to get him to make love to her countless times, wanting him to come to her however she could get him. Tonight … he would belong to her, body and soul. She could hardly wait.

  The Enchantress felt the dragon return to her home, knowing the doorway was now open. But she had surrounded the room in impenetrable darkness and even if they were only a foot away, there would be no way the little party of would-be-heroes could save Arahir before the ritual was over. By then, it would be far … far … too late.

  Lirima stood … her arms raised over her head, holding the knife she would use on the new victim. The blade had been cleaned and glinted in the candlelight. She stood highlighted by the hundreds of candles fluttering in an unseen wind. The shadows deepened and every inch of Lirima’s perfect body was brought into sharp relief. The thin silk sheath she wore, clung to her like a second skin, smoothing over the full breasts, the flat taut belly and curving hips, accentuating her long shapely legs and fine perfectly formed small feet. She was every man’s dream come true. And Lirima, the gloriously beautiful Enchantress was as malevolently evil as she was exquisite. She was positively terrifying.

  Lirima spoke softly into the darkness and an image began to shimmer and form, solidifying in front of her now outstretched arms. She met with heavy resistance and beads of sweat pearled on her forehead.

  “You cannot fight me … I marked him as soon as I found him. He was bespelled by my magic and must return to me … fight all you want Light, but he … is … mine!”

  The last words were triumphant as the shape became fully formed, landing softly in her arms. Her brilliant eyes glittered as the babe snuggled against her, still under the artificial sleep she had induced earlier. The Light screamed in despair as the child was ripped from her core where she had promised to protect him. She had no way to hold the child against the evil of the Enchantress … not without her Keeper. His son lay in the bowl shaped depression that would collect his life’s blood. This blood would bind and sever in one go; the love both Anya and Arahir had for him was obvious to all who had seen them. He was the perfect sacrifice to hold her Beast to her for eternity. With this blood … Arahir would be unable to resist any request she made. And one of those requests would be that he kills his beautiful Anya that still had his heart in spite of her severing their bond. Lirima still felt the connection between them and she knew the only way to make the Beast hers body and soul would be to kill Anya. Somehow the beautiful woman had still managed to keep a link to her Arahir. No one was going to share the Keeper. She would kill anyone who thought otherwise.

  Moving the child into position over the bowl, she tilted the fragile neck backward, very carefully making a tiny nick in the main neck vein; the jugular was pierced. It was a small cut, but enough to ensure the child bled throughout the ritual. Without the constant bleed, the ritual would falter. Ensur
ing her hand was covered in the fresh blood … she glided over to the sleeping Arahir. Painting a symbol on his forehead, his heart and completely painting his lips in the fresh blood, she did the same to herself. Finally … after all these years of waiting … finally … she was ready. Lirima stood on the fiery line that extended from Arahir, to touch the bowl with the child then, extend outward toward where she now stood; Lirima began the incantation. The flames leapt up along the line connecting them together. She was surrounded inside a circle of flame identical to the one surrounding Arahir and the bowl the child was in. The magic would prevent anyone now from interfering. At long last … the ritual … had begun.

  **********

  Chapter Thirty

  Anya felt the Light scream and panic seized her. They had left their precious son with the Living Light, never thinking for one second he would not be safe, but now … the Enchantress it seemed … had a use for him. Anger filled Anya, an anger so cold and terrible that she felt as if she could burn the whole castle to find him … and find him she would.

  Anya screamed in pain and grief. “Caranor!” and it reached the heart of her Beast. The spark that she carried in her heart, woke Arahir suddenly with a dread knowledge of what Lirima had done. “Caranor!” He sat but the spell held him in place, pulling him back until he lay prone as before. His eyes flicked toward the Enchantress at what she had done. He saw the unconscious bundle bleeding into the bowl, his tiny fists clenched and muffled whimpers escaping the rosebud mouth.

  “Lirima you witch! What are you doing to my son?”

  He roared his words toward the glowing Enchantress. She looked mouthwatering and it took all his strength to not stare at her beauty. Arahir knew what was happening, knew his attraction was because of the spell she was working; but how could she bind him to her using the life of his precious son.

  “If you harm my son … I will find a way to kill you … somehow I will make you pay for the life of my only child.”

  Lirima threw her glorious head back making the long tresses shimmer in the candlelight, lighting up her exquisite face. Her beautiful eyes glowed as she wet her lush lips.

  “Oh Arahir, I have no desire to harm your child; I only need a few drops of his precious blood then, he can be placed back in the Light where he can recover. I would never dream of harming your child. But even you must have understood I needed something very potent for this particular ritual.”

  “You are sick Lirima … what makes you think I’d want to have anything to do with you after this?’

  She purred like a contented feline.

  “Because my dearest darling Arahir, you will simply have no choice, the bond will take that away from you and you will be happy with whatever I do. So just lay back and enjoy the ride.”

  Arahir struggled against the drowsiness, and he struggled even harder against the attraction he could sense forming between Lirima and himself. All this time he had pushed her away, he never realized it had only made her want him even more. She could have any man she wanted; why did she want the one man who didn’t want her? He was in love with Anya and no matter what Lirima did, nothing would change that fact.

  Suddenly he froze. The connection to the Enchantress allowed him to ‘see’ into her heart and mind. What the Beast saw there nearly made him sick. He saw all she had done over millennia; sacrificing children to strengthen her magic and to find out how to break him. The Enchantress had become so obsessed with him that she had spent all that time killing innocents so she could bind the Keeper to her and have Castle Barshael’s magic for her own. Arahir saw the intent of the binding; how only a few drops meant he was free, but a death would mean she would own him body and soul.

  Arahir realized in that instant Lirima planned all along to kill his son, to ensure he killed Anya and to ensure he killed her very slowly while the Enchantress watched. He saw images of the two of them making wild love while he was covered in his beloved Anya’s life blood. The Beast began to shake in rage and fear. Somehow … he had to warn Anya and the twins. The Enchantress had to be stopped, but they had to save Caranor before he lost anymore of his precious blood.

  Realizing the ritual was holding him in place, he figured Lirima was also frozen in place as well. That could work to their advantage. The Beast concentrated with all he had left trying to send a message to his once soul mate, through his life spark that Anya kept in her heart.

  “Come beloved … our son is dying. Consume the darkness; your flames will do it. The ritual has begun. She means to kill our son. Come now I beg you.”

  The effort was more than Arahir could contain. The fumes of the herbs and the spell the Enchantress was weaving recaptured him. Darkness dragged at his consciousness. Arahir was drawn down … down … until the spell had woven around him once more. Unable to fight the Enchantress’ magic, he collapsed, weak and helpless once more. The Enchantress smiled. Not much longer … the first link was firmly in place. Only two more links to go.

  **********

  Anya was speaking to the twins and the trio when she grabbed her heart and screamed; collapsing on the stone flags. Shaking and weeping she lifted the most devastated expressions to her soul mates and whispered … “Caranor … our son.”

  Then she abruptly stopped as if to listen, her neck tilted as if she was listening. Answering a conversation only she could hear.

  “Yes … my beloved … we will come … protect yourself as best you can. I love you … we will come …”

  The twins crouched and helped the trembling woman and pulled her into their arms until the shaking stopped. They had no idea what had just happened, but knew somehow the Beast had spoken to her. It should have been impossible, but then, they remembered the spark the Keeper had given her.

  As Anya calmed, her anger grew. So furious was she that flames leapt in her eyes, reflecting the image of her Beast lying unconscious on the floor. Something very bad was happening in the darkened room. They had to get in and sort everything now; otherwise … Lirima would have won.

  Anya spoke quickly.

  “We have to join together and get rid of the darkness. Arahir showed me how. But we have to be quick. The Enchantress is bleeding our son to use his blood to seal the ritual. His blood flow must stop. Each drop of his blood in that bowl binds the Beast closer to the Enchantress. As soon as the flames clear the darkness, Alexandros … please rescue my son and seal the wound. No further blood must escape. And if anything else happens to my son I will take care of it personally. Keplin, I need you to disrupt the ritual. Marcos, please help Arahir. Are we ready? Then … let’s go get this witch.”

  Anya flamed instantly and converged with the twins a blink of an eye later. The brilliant flare raced through the opening and spun like a whirlwind, pulling the supernatural darkness, pulling it inside the intense heat like folding a thick towel. The flame rolled the towel as it travelled around the room. The room began to brighten and the candles flickered and hissed as they went out in the speed of their passing.

  Alexandros saw an opening and made a break for it. Seeing exactly where the baby boy was curled bleeding into the sacrificial bowl, the Troll swept the infant into his massive arms. Gently and tenderly, Alexandros cradled the deathly pale boy. With a strip of soft cotton torn from the sleeve of Anya’s shirt, he bound the neck, ensuring the bleeding stopped. Caranor sighed in his spell induced sleep and snuggled into the body of the Troll. With his sword now gripped in one hand and the child held in the other, Alexandros moved over to where Arahir was being woken by Marcos.

  The Ogre was trying to help Arahir sit up but the magic held him flat on his back. Handing Marcos the infant, Alexandros brought the sword down on the flaming line that tied him to the Enchantress. The line exploded upward in a wash of white hot flame then, collapsed into itself and died out. Once more, Alexandros helped Arahir sit, then slowly stand. The Beast stood shakily, but he felt stronger as he straightened.

  Anya and the twins appeared behind him, and came together in a group hug, r
elieved beyond thought the Keeper was alright. They felt his sadness and joy that Anya had heard his voice. His son was weak but alright. Some healing time in the Living Light would mend his wounds. With that thought … Caranor disappeared and they all heard the Light’s triumphant joy as she reclaimed her charge, determined not to let Lirima anywhere near him.

  The Enchantress was smiling … an evil sinister smile as she stepped from her place in the circle. They all involuntarily took a step back.

  “You fools … you think you’ve won don’t you?”

  She had her staff in her left hand, raised at shoulder level … aimed at the small group huddled together. The Keeper stood in front of Anya and the twins, using his body as a shield. Lirima suddenly made herself appear more alluring, sensual and Arahir found himself staring. She was all he could see, all he could think of.

  “You see … you were too late. All I need is Arahir to come to me. The moment he kisses me, the bond will form and you Anya will feel such agony as you have never felt before … not even when Savage flogged and raped you. Oh yes … I knew all about that because I watched, egging him on. I made him a whip, bound round with magic to poison and infect. The whip would scar and tear like no other. Adam, poor dear, was so excited at the end that he quite lost control. I really did enjoy the show dear Anya. I so enjoyed you being hurt. It was such a delicious show. We really must do it again. But poor Adam will have to forego his part … you see he quite fell in love with me and he proved to be quite useful after all. One part of your bond has been broken with Adam’s blood, and your darling son had broken the other.”

  Anya shook her head vehemently.

  “No … we can’t be too late … you’re lying. The ritual wasn’t finished.”