Bloodstone (Talisman)

by S. E. Akers

  “PLEASE tell me you shoved a bolt of lightning straight up his ass,” Katie grumbled.

  “No. But believe it or not, he might actually be the key to finding your body.”

  “Now, I’ve heard everything!” Katie scoffed. “Why would HE help me? The girl whose head he slammed into a desk?”

  “Not him… His stone. Kamya said if we had a howlite, it would lead us straight to your body, no matter where the Onyx has hidden it.”

  “Yeah. Good luck! Oh, and be sure to grab that monkey out of his butt too after he gives you one,” Katie huffed. “We still need the fire opal.”

  “What if I told you that I have a stone?”

  “You got it back from that bitch?” Katie asked, sounding too excited for words.

  “No. It’s a different one, but it might work. It’s a…” I paused when I heard a peculiar thumping. I looked down to find my purse scooting around on the bench — all on its own. Something had to be making it flop. I’d no sooner reached for it when the gruesome bat flew out and smacked me in the face — AGAIN!

  Ugh! I hate that thing!

  “What kind of stone?” Katie demanded.

  I followed the creature’s flight up and over to a massive grand piano sitting off in a corner. It dove behind the bench and didn’t make another sound. Just as I began to answer Katie, the somber strikes of the piano keys blared through the room. I looked over to spy a ghostly-looking little Latin boy tickling the ivories.

  “T—Tatka?” I mumbled aloud, absolutely taken aback.

  “A tatka?” Katie questioned. “What the heck can a ‘tatka’ stone do?”

  “No. Tatka is the little sorcerer that helped us open the vortex. He’s here. Well, his spirit is here,” I clarified.

  “I swear. I feel like I’ve missed three freakin’ episodes of Wallace-World!”

  I edged towards the piano mystified. “Katie, wait. Give me a minute,” I requested. I’d almost reached the piano when Tatka dashed underneath it and then scurried out from its other end. He dove head-first onto a cushy settee. With a slow and curious gait, I watched the frisky boy jump to his feet and then began following his frolicsome antics around the room. The spectral spirit of the little sorcerer sprang from seat-to-seat, leaving a trail of indentions in the cushions and suggestively begging me to follow. He ended up stopping on a sofa that sat in front of a drape-covered window. Tatka turned to me with a sly smile and not a second later, he hopped down off the sofa and hid behind the heavy drapes. I hurried over to catch him when I noticed his outline fading. I whisked back the draperies to find nothing but an empty spot on the wood floor beneath a large picture window.

  I stood there perplexed. Where did he go?

  I started to turn away when a ray of sunlight hailed my attention. I squinted past the harsh beam and focused on the lush green scenery outside. A stone terrace stretched across the back of the house. To my right, several large rocks that lay in a maze-like fashion caught my eye — a fashion that looked all too familiar. I stood up on the sofa to get a better view. Just as my escalating heartbeat had predicted, there it was — the courtyard where all this mess began, where I’d watched the ceremony under my golden veil and Helio’s essence had intertwined with mine.

  My head fell against the glass. “No,” I mumbled.

  “What?” Katie asked.

  “I’m in a house all right. The SAME ONE from the OTHER NIGHT!” I revealed.

  “In Catemaco?” Katie gasped.

  “Yeah. The one at the corner of ‘totally’ and ‘screwed’!” A regretful reflection surfaced. If there was one thing I’d hoped was “wrong” about Padimae’s tarot reading, it was this very predicament. One of her cards had revealed that someone would deceive me and by the looks of things, I feared it was abso-freakin’-lutely right.

  “Get out of there!” Katie ordered.

  Something was making my senses tingle. I laid my hands on the glass. “I think the spell restricts more than just communication,” I grumbled.

  I heard someone coming. Quickly, I whisked the curtains shut and then with a speedy turn, I plopped rear first down onto the sofa. I was still bouncing when Federo entered the room carrying a fancy bottle of liquor in one hand and curious-looking pewter challis in his other. He stopped abruptly. He was either eyeing me, or the drapes to my rear. Damn! I hope they aren’t moving. After a thoughtful and rightfully unnerving pause, he beamed a beguiling smile.

  “I thought I would join you,” Federo remarked as he lifted the bottle in the air. “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion.” He handed me the challis with a buoyant grin. “Here you go. It is not the cognac, but I think it will hit the spot.”

  “Thank you,” I replied. I glanced inside the challis with an appreciative smile plastered on my face while my mind fired out a foreboding warning shot. I wasn’t about to drink ANYTHING I hadn’t poured EVER, EVER AGAIN — not after Ms. Lá Léo’s hexed café au lait and especially not after viewing Tatka’s telling peep show! But there was one slight problem. Federo hadn’t budged. He was standing there, waiting for me to take a drink.

  What the heck am I going to do now?

  Suddenly a loud, irksome “slam” thrummed through the room. We both jumped abruptly and followed the ominous sound of dwindling musical chords over to the piano. Somehow the grand piano’s lid had fallen to a close. Federo strode over immediately to check it out. Seeing that his back was turned, I pounced on the opportunity and dumped whatever crap was inside the challis into a bowl full of roses in the center of the table. I swear I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if the flowers started wilting before my eyes. But they didn’t — luckily!

  Federo raised the hinged lid curiously and tried locking the prop back into its place.

  “Maybe you have a ghost?” I teased with a grin after seeing the spectral little sorcerer bolt out from underneath the piano and race out of the room.

  “What I have is a broken prop,” Federo assessed and lowered the lid gently. He shook off the incident and strolled over to a cabinet that housed a medley of crystal glasses behind its doors.

  I clutched the now empty challis in my hand. Thank you, Tatka…

  “There is something you must know, young one,” Federo purred and gave the crystal snifter a purposeful “ping” with his finger. The high-pitched vibration rattled my already quivering nerves. “I can sense you…and I didn’t a moment ago in the hall.”

  I glanced at my magical purse sitting over on the bench, well out of my reach. Of course he does, I thought breathlessly. Shit…

  Federo turned swiftly and pointed to my ring. “You really need to charge that tiger’s-eye of yours some more. Healing drains a great deal of its energy. Always remember that,” he advised with a smile and wise shake of his finger before he turned back around.

  I didn’t answer or even nod. I simply watched him slowly pour the cognac into a glass while my mind spun like a top. Why did Kamya tell me that we were still in Veracruz? She’s acting weird… Is she under a spell? And exactly what kind of spell did he place on the perimeter? Is it like the one at Ms. Lá Léo’s? Can I even draw my sword? I eyed my purse from across the room with a bleak stare. My only “plus” was that he still thought the moonstone ring was actually a drained tiger’s-eye in need of charging, thankfully.

  “Shi, what are you going to do?” Katie whispered.

  “I don’t have a freakin’ clue,” I replied. “But I have to find Kamya.”

  Federo strolled over, swirling and sniffing his drink, and then casually lowered his cocky frame into a chair across from me. He raised his glass and motioned for me to do the same. I held the challis close to my mouth so he couldn’t see that it was empty.

  Federo held his glass up in the air. “Please,” he insisted with a firm wave. I smiled and locked my lips on its rim and threw my head back, pretending to down it all. I wasn’t a hundred-percent sure, but I thought I detected a peculiar smell lingering inside the challis. I held my breath instantly.
I caught a sneaky gleam in Federo’s eyes as I set the dry challis back down on the table. Oh, yeah. There was something in it, but “what” I had no idea. Is it supposed to knock me out? Put me in a trance? KILL ME? I shifted in my seat. Crap! This just went from bad to worse!

  Federo laughed. “You were thirsty. You didn’t give me a chance to make a toast.”

  “What did you want to drink to?” I posed. Poisoning me?

  “To the prospect of Tanner capturing my brother and returning with the sunstone,” Federo praised. He took a sip of his drink and then placed the glass on the table. He casually reached into his pocket and held up his hand. “And to his successful acquisition of the stone,” he reveled with a gleam as he held the glowing red chalcedony in the air.

  I stifled my stunned gaze as best I could. “I thought Kamya was holding on to that?”

  “No, no,” Federo insisted. “She felt it would be best if I guarded it instead.”

  No freakin’ way. I held out my hand, palm up and waiting. “We were lucky you knew where we could find one,” I remarked with a grin, still waiting for him to give me the stone.

  Federo ignored my gesture and placed it back inside his pocket.

  I retracted my hand. Oookay…

  He then reached over to remove a cigar from a nearby humidor. “It was fate, young one,” Federo grinned as he gave its head a sharp clip.

  I sharpened my stare as I watched him light his cigar. I can play cute too. I’m already up to my neck… Might as well dive on in.

  I cleared my throat. “How did you know that only weapons could be used in the vortex…and not stones?”

  My guileful and gracious host leaned back and started toking on his cigar. Impatiently, I counted three perfect rings of smoke. Federo’s eyes were glowing brighter than the embers he was delicately blowing on its end. “Because my amber didn’t work for me.”

  My muscles tensed. “When was that?”

  “Almost a year ago,” Federo revealed shamelessly as he gave his drink a quick swirl and took another series of puffs. “When I was granted a red chalcedony.”

  That explains a lot…especially the “real reason” why he didn’t follow Kamya inside.

  I shook my head and sighed. “You’re helping Benicio…aren’t you?”

  Federo laughed. “I’m afraid you are wrong about that,” he hummed mysteriously while his eyes churned with erratic streaks of golden brown. He wedged his cigar in a slot on a marble ashtray and then slowly removed his tiger’s-eye from around his neck. He held it up beside his eyes. There in his pupils, a blue-green light engulfed the amber hue I’d witnessed merely seconds ago.

  “That’s impossible,” I mumbled. “You can’t fully claim two birth-stones.” No Talisman could.

  “With the red chalcedony I can,” Federo boasted with a wicked grin. “You see, Shiloh, like I said at the vortex. Wishes do come true. I have always longed for what my brother had. His stone… His power…” Federo stopped and smiled. “Well, all of his possessions. Kamya spoke the truth. I have been jealous of him all my life. So, when the opportunity presented itself, I drove my amber dagger into his unsuspecting heart and asked the stone to do the same thing I desired when I claimed it that day. I wanted his turquoise as my own, completely and totally. Half would not do for what I needed. Half would not allow me any claim to the sunstone. So in a sense, the red chalcedony has made our souls as one.”

  It seemed Padimae’s cards were right about my count of assailants too. No wonder they were fuzzy. The cards were sensing their different “energies”, not counting up actual “bodies”.

  “If Benicio is dead…then who is Tanner chasing?” I inquired.

  “Why a hallucination, of course,” Federo replied. “And I have you to thank for that.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Your accident,” Federo revealed. “When Tanner and Kamya met me in the basement, I talked them into letting me use my power to give Olaf and the other man one of my hallucinations. I kept my word with that one. They lowered their guard for a split-second, allowing me to take advantage of the situation. Their minds were helplessly caught in the crossfire of my spell.” Federo reached for his cigar and began rolling it with his fingers. “I’ve felt their suspicions since the Plaza, especially Kamya’s. But it turned out that saving you was the key to their trust. Even if I only earned a second of it,” he laughed.

  “Tanner has a diamond. You couldn’t have swayed his mind.”

  Federo raised his other hand. “This diamond?” he asked.

  The bottom fell out of my stomach as I eyed the rough stone.

  “He succumbed to my spell before he could even reach into his pocket,” Federo boasted.

  I started to yell for Kamya, but Federo interrupted. “She cannot answer you. She is tied-up right now,” he said with a sinister laugh. “But don’t worry. You will soon be joining her, now that you know the truth.”

  I have to find her. I couldn’t imagine what he’d done with her, or what he had in store for me. Swiftly, I took my foot and kicked the coffee table at him as I sprang up from the sofa. After I’d snatched my purse off the bench, I raced for the steps. Just as I’d reached the bottom of the staircase, the wood floor opened up beneath me. The next thing I knew, I was sliding down into pitch-black darkness and fearing what trouble I would find when I reached the bottom. It came soon enough. Not a second later, I hit the ground with a hard “thud”. Federo’s henchmen were already waiting for me. I tried to reach into my purse, but they cuffed me in iron and threw a sack over my head before I could grab the hilt. A crippling “thwack” to my head sent me into a realm of daunting darkness, not knowing when or if I would ever wake up again.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  When I did finally wake — this time — there weren’t any warm faces greeting me, only harsh shades of gray. The air reeked with a musty aroma and I certainly wasn’t curled up in anyone’s soft, cushy bed. I lying in some sort of cramped container, bound with my hands shackled behind my back. Whatever it was felt hard, cold, and definitely metal. As weak as what I felt, I didn’t have to guess “which one”. My surroundings seemed as undeniably bleak as my situation. Only a minuscule amount of light streamed in through numerous tiny holes that were scattered across the top of the coffin-like lid. Yelling for help wasn’t an option — not with the iron gag that had been shoved into my mouth. It was wedged in there tight and secured by some sort of strapped, iron harness that ran up the sides of my nose and around the back of my head. It seemed my host had thought of everything all right — the Martha Stewart of containment contraptions. My only silver lining — I wasn’t sweating anymore (well physically) and the fact that I didn’t have to pee. At that very moment, I wished someone would give my arm a good hard pinch, waking me from this nightmare of a freakin’ “VACATION”!

  After a quick wiggle of my fingers, I realized both of my rings were missing. However, I found myself oddly proud that the amethyst was safe inside my spelled purse. At least I didn’t lose another one. Tanner would be so pleased. I couldn’t feel Katie resting against my chest either. He’d obviously taken her too. Thankfully Federo didn’t know exactly “whose body” was missing their soul or “where” she was hiding out. The less leverage, the better. I just prayed he hadn’t tossed out what he thought was a run-of-the-mill diamond stud.

  A loud “clang” rang out, followed by a squeaky “creak”, and then a set of solitary footsteps sounded like they were coming my way. Another booming “clank” and an alarming, rolling rumble of metal jerked my imprisoned body springing up to a standing position. Someone was here to play.

  I panned around the room through a set of narrow slits carved into the lid. The glow from several oil lanterns hanging on one of the rough stone walls caught my eye. My purse was lying on a frightful-looking table in the center of the room. There were two huge rollers mounted on its opposite ends that each held a pair of rope restraints. I don’t think that’s for massage (but for my own sanity, I pretended it was). A
ll of my missing jewelry was lying beside my magical brown leather bag, right down to what had to be my “about-to-go-out-of-her-mind-with-worry” bosom friend. The next thing I knew, something was banging on my coffin-like iron surrounding, and then not a second later, my charming host’s face shot into view. Federo let out a long, purposeful laugh.

  “Your present accommodations are your own doing, young one. You could have enjoyed my hospitality awhile longer, but you forced my hand.” He gave the iron housing two more annoying taps that rang in my ears like a booming gong. “It has cost you dearly.” I watched Federo strut over to the table through the tiny openings. He grabbed my purse and started rummaging through it. After an unsuccessful search, he slammed the bag down and spun around.

  Thank you, Ms. Lá Léo… Funny thing, though. As grateful as I was that the spell the deceased voodoo woman had placed on the bag seemed to be holding, I wasn’t quite sure if I should aim that thought “up” or “down”.

  “I have searched through all of your things…AND STILL, its whereabouts remain a mystery. WHERE IS THE WAND?!?” Federo demanded.

  I hummed out a smug, “I-don’t-know”, through my gag. Like I was going to tell him a daggone thing.

  Federo humored my less-than-accommodating attitude with a grin. The Amber Talisman strolled over to a rack hanging on the wall and pulled out a long, narrow spike. He prowled closer, smacking it against his palm and flaunting its sharp, sparkling tip. “I will find where you have hidden it…one way or another.”

  Like a gut-wrenching revelation, the purpose of all the tiny pinholes bored in the lid suddenly surfaced. I’d no sooner mumbled my, “Aw shit,” when he thrust the diamond-dusted rod into one of the holes. It shot clean through my left shoulder. The iron magnified the pain, but it felt even worse because I couldn’t fully force out my scream. Federo twisted the skewer and backed it out just as quickly as he’d shoved it in. Then he jabbed it through another hole (piercing my other shoulder), yanked it out and again, drove it in yet ANOTHER. I would’ve fallen to my knees if I could move. My eyes were on fire, burning with tears. The sadistic bastard held up the blood-covered barb and stroked the tip with his fingers, wiggling them just to gloat.