Necessary Sacrifices

by R. L. King

  He’d begun to gather his energy, preparing to do just that, when they passed another side path. The women didn’t turn that way, but when he glanced down the path he spotted a faint, pulsing glow. He slowed a bit and in a moment recognized it: it was a globe on top of a tall plinth in the center of what looked like a clearing.

  It was the same place he’d found Verity during his wanderings the morning after their night together.

  Aha. Instantly, the map clicked into place in his mind. He knew where he was—and this area wasn’t warded. Even with the ley lines it would have been impossible to ward the entire complex, so they’d concentrated on the road in, and the buildings. This area was more remote—he’d been walking a while that morning before he found it. Now, all he had to do was—

  “Stop,” the redhead in front said, holding up a hand. A bobbing light approached from in front of them.

  Stone stopped, sensing the blonde moving up closer behind him.

  The light came nearer, revealing another woman. This one was older, dressed in a long skirt and overcoat. “Is everything ready?” the redhead asked her.

  “Yes—it’s all prepared. We’re just waiting for you. We—”

  Stone took his chance, praying he hadn’t been mistaken about the elixir’s effects.

  He quickly stepped sideways, off the path, and opened the conduit to the source of Harrison’s power, struggling to hold as much control over it as possible. He couldn’t afford to open the fire hose as he had done at Burning Man two years ago—if he did that, he’d obliterate the women and probably take out half the forest in front of him, not to mention probably pass out himself.

  The energy came in a satisfying surge, its pain and ecstasy burning familiar streaks along his neural pathways. As soon as it vaporized the manacles, he brought his hands around and directed the energy at the three women, fighting hard to keep the power as constrained as possible. He didn’t want to kill them—so far they hadn’t done anything to him other than imprison him, and it was always possible his grandmother and Anna Canby had been telling the truth about not planning to kill him—but he couldn’t afford to pull his punches and risk having their shields protect them.

  He needn’t have worried. All three women went down with little shrieks of pain, their half-formed shields flaring bright before Stone’s onslaught struck them down. They clutched their heads as they fell—even if the glowing magical energy hadn’t dropped them, the feedback from the sudden destruction of their shields would have finished the job.

  Stone clamped down, shutting off the power with an effort of will, staggering back and almost falling himself. That was the hardest part of wielding Harrison’s magic: not throwing the vast power around, but stopping it. He stared at the women, lying splayed along the path. They were still breathing—his attack hadn’t killed them. That was good, but at this point, he didn’t care. He had to get out of here.

  Panting, his head pounding from channeling energy he barely understood, he dragged the three women off the path and into the shelter of the trees where they wouldn’t immediately be spotted by searchers, then spun and took off into the forest away from the clearing.

  He needed to find a place to get his bearings and rest for a few minutes, and then his next task was to find where they were keeping Verity. From the look of the night sky, it had to be nearly midnight; odds were good she’d be in bed, or at least back at wherever she was staying. If that was the same house they’d given the two of them when they’d been here last, he might be able to get in and find her before anyone knew he was gone.

  He ran as long as he could, more staggering than running due in equal parts to his exhaustion from the magic and the rough sandals he wore, which didn’t lend themselves to fast movement over uneven terrain. Finally, when he couldn’t go any farther, he stopped to lean against a tree and catch his breath, listening hard for any sound of pursuit.

  He heard none. The dark forest was quiet except for the faint rustle of the trees and the occasional far-off cry of a bird or stirring of some ground-bound creature. He remained there as long as he dared, clutching the tree for balance and waiting for his heartbeat and breathing to return to normal. He couldn’t afford to stay long—if the women didn’t arrive wherever they’d been taking him soon, the others would send out searchers. Wards or no wards, if he was still in the area his aura would light up like a beacon. He needed to find Verity and get them both out of here fast.

  He quickly readjusted his mental map of the area and determined which direction he’d need to go to get to the house, retracing his steps from that uncomfortable morning. After a brief bit of indecision about whether he should keep to the forest or risk traveling faster along the paths, he thought he’d be safer under cover. He’d certainly make more noise blundering through the underbrush, but the gravel path wasn’t silent either and would much more likely be watched. Decision made, he set off in the direction of the house. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t find her there, but that was something he’d deal with if he had to.

  Even rested, it took him longer to reach the forest behind the house than he’d hoped. By the time he stopped and peered out through the trees at the two-story building, he estimated ten minutes had passed. He listened again, straining his ears to catch any sound of voices, feet on gravel, or any other sign that the women might be searching for him. He still heard nothing. Could it be that they hadn’t found his unconscious captors yet? It seemed unlikely, but then again ten minutes wasn’t that long. That, and he had no idea where they’d be coming from.

  He studied the back of the house. The bedroom Verity had been in before had been back there, on the right side as he faced. Now, though, that room’s window was dark and the curtains were drawn. The whole house looked dark, in fact. Either she wasn’t there, or she’d already gone to sleep. Did he dare try to sneak in and see? He knew from his examination before that the house, like all the other buildings he’d seen at the complex, was warded; even if he could get through at all, the wards would alert the women to the breach.

  Either way, though, he’d have to decide fast.

  Let’s try the mundane solution first. He bent and picked up a handful of gravel, then crept closer to the back of the house and flung it at the right-side, second-story window. Verity wasn’t a light sleeper, but he hoped the clattering might alert her to his presence.

  He waited several seconds, heart thudding, but nothing changed at the house. No lights came on, and the curtains didn’t open.

  Did that mean she wasn’t there, or she hadn’t heard him?

  He gathered more gravel and tried again, but once again got the same result. Damn it, where are you?

  He couldn’t leave without her. He wouldn’t do that.

  Unless—

  Yes. That would work. He could sneak into the house and leave her a message warning her to get out, then lose himself in the forest and get away from the complex. He knew there was a town not too far to the south; if he could reach that, he could catch a train back home. It would be a risk to sneak past the wards, but if he could get in and out fast enough, he thought he could manage it. It would take a few minutes for anyone to get to the house after the wards alerted them to the intrusion.

  Once again he crept forward across the house’s wild backyard garden, tensing as he approached the perimeter of the wards. He couldn’t see them now, but he knew they were there.

  No buzz greeted him as he reached the house; nothing zapped him or impeded his progress. Warning wards only, then. He’d have five minutes, max, to get in and out.

  Luck was with him in one way: the back door was unlocked, like many of the complex’s buildings. He slipped inside, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust, then snatched up a pad and pen from the kitchen counter and hurried up the stairs toward the bedrooms. His heart pounded faster and he had to stop himself from looking constantly over his shoulder. If he hurried and re
mained focused, he could do this.

  He reached Verity’s bedroom and pushed open the door, risking the light this time. The room was empty. The bathroom’s open door revealed it was deserted as well. To his relief, however, her familiar leather jacket lay on the bed, which hadn’t been made. She was here! She must be out, perhaps staying up to talk late into the night with her new friends.

  All right…that’s fine, he told himself, trying to calm his racing breath. His hand shook as he dashed off a quick note: Verity, you’re in great danger here. Take the portal back to the Surrey house as soon as you can get away safely, and don’t forget to clear the calibration. I’ll contact you as soon as I can. AS.

  He folded the note and placed it on her pillow, covering it with her jacket. There. That’s all I can do—now I just have to get out of here and—

  As he turned back toward the door and prepared to leave the room, he froze.

  All around him, silent figures shimmered into existence from behind illusionary cover. Three in all: one outside the bedroom door, one near the bathroom, and one to his left side.

  No, no, no!

  He spun, thinking he could make his escape out the window, but a fourth figure had appeared in front of the closed drapes.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t move.

  He fought hard, but it was no use. Immobilized, he watched in horror as the woman in the doorway moved closer to him. It was Anna Canby, dressed in a long robe of deep red velvet, and she was smiling.

  “A good try, Dr. Stone. I don’t know how you did it, but it seems you’re more resourceful than we thought. It’s all right, though—your temporary escape hasn’t disturbed our plans. Come along, now. You’ve got things to do.”

  The other women snapped manacles on Stone’s wrists again, and he felt the sharp prick of a hypo as they gave him another dose of the pale green anti-magic elixir. “Just in case, since it seems the previous dose didn’t do its job.” Canby said. “We’ll be watching you much more closely now.”

  The immobilization spell dropped, and he would have sagged if two of the women hadn’t caught him and held him up. “What have you done with Verity?” he demanded, eyes blazing.

  “Oh, don’t worry about Verity,” Canby said. “You’ll see her soon enough. She’s got a role in our activities tonight as well. Come along, and you’ll see.” She gestured, and someone dropped a black bag over Stone’s head.

  Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, something clenched.

  They’d captured Verity, too?

  Dear gods, no.

  And now that his final, desperate chance with Harrison’s magic had failed, he was truly powerless.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Stone tried to keep track of where the women were leading him as he stumbled along guided by two strong grips on his arms, but quickly lost his bearings. They stayed to the gravel paths, changing direction twice.

  Finally, he heard the creak of a door opening in front of him. The women pushed him through and now he felt wooden floor under his feet. “Where are we?” he asked.

  They didn’t answer, except to push him along. They passed through another door, and one of his captors said, “Steps now, be careful.”

  The steps weren’t wood. They felt like stone, and stretched downward in a long, spiraling curve. Underground again? he thought. Quite a distance down, too, from the feel of it. Had they taken him in a big circle, back to where he’d started? He didn’t think so, though—he’d run for quite some distance after he’d escaped, and they hadn’t walked that far.

  Eventually the steps ended and the stone floor leveled out again. Stone couldn’t smell much inside the hood, but the cold down here sliced through his thin robe, making him shiver. What the hell were they planning?

  They passed through another door, which closed behind them. The hands guided him forward. “Sit down,” a woman said, pushing him onto a chair. Then she whipped the hood off.

  He looked around, blinking. He sat in the middle of a small chamber lit by sconces, its walls formed of rough, uneven stone. It smelled of earth and vegetation and a faint hint of incense. A quick glance showed him that two women stood behind him, flanking both sides. In front of him sat Nessa Lennox, with Anna Canby and a couple other women he didn’t recognize standing behind her. Beyond them was another door. “This is all very ‘underground-lair,’” he said. “But you still haven’t explained to me what the hell you’re up to, and why you need me for it. And what did you mean, Verity’s got a place in it? If you harm her, I promise, I’ll see you all dead.”

  “Strong words,” Nessa Lennox said, her expression peaceful and unruffled. “I’d say you’re hardly in a position to threaten anyone, Dr. Stone—or perhaps since you know who I am now, I might be permitted to call you Alastair. But it doesn’t matter—I promise you, neither you nor your apprentice will be harmed.”

  “You’ll pardon me if I don’t believe you,” he snapped, rattling his manacled hands behind his back. “You’ve kept me prisoner, trussed me up, hunted me down when I got away from you—hardly the actions of someone with my best interests in mind.”

  “All of that was necessary,” Nessa said. “We’re aware of your reputation, and we felt it prudent to take precautions. But as I said—as soon as our proceedings tonight are completed, you’ll be free to go.”

  “Suppose you tell me what your ‘proceedings’ are,” he said. “But before you do that—” He indicated Anna Canby with a jerk of his head. “I’ve worked something else out while I was languishing my cell, and I want another answer.”

  “What is that?” Nessa, too, glanced at Canby.

  He addressed not his grandmother, but Canby herself. “You and I are related. I assume you know that.”

  “Of course.”

  “If she’s your grandmother too,” he said, indicating Nessa, “I want to know the details. Who is your father?”

  Canby only smiled. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that part out. Especially after you mentioned how familiar I looked to you, even though we’ve never met.”

  “Yes, I get that part. You’re obviously my half-sister. But who is your father?”

  Her smile grew wider, almost predatory, and her eyes glittered. “But Alastair, love, you’re wrong about something, and I’m sorry I had to deceive you about it before. We have met. Rather intimately, in fact. Though it makes sense that you don’t remember it. It would have been quite impressive, if you had.”

  He stared at her, dumbfounded. Sudden cold settled over him as the last puzzle piece dropped into place.

  No.

  That’s not possible!

  “No…” he whispered dully, not taking his eyes off her.

  “Oh, yes. I’m not at all surprised I seemed familiar to you.” She looked him up and down. “It was a bit of a shock to me too, that night we met at the chapel. The resemblance is truly striking.”

  He tried to rise, but his two guards pushed him back down. “But—no. It can’t be. How could you be—”

  “Your twin sister?” She nodded toward Nessa. “Grandmother should tell this part, I think, since she obviously knows the details better. And by the way, as long as you know the truth, I can stop calling myself Anna Canby. My name is Acantha, in honor of our mother, who died at our father’s hand.”

  Stone sagged, and would have slipped off the chair if the two women hadn’t grabbed him and held him up. He felt like someone had just punched him hard in the solar plexus. For the moment, whatever plans Nessa Lennox and the others had for him had fled from his mind. All he could do was stare at Anna—Acantha—in speechless shock.

  Nessa Lennox gave him an understanding smile. “This must all be quite a lot for you to take in, Alastair. I will satisfy your curiosity, but it must be quick. We’ll need to begin soon—it would be rude to keep the others waiting too long.”

  She gripped her cane. “It w
asn’t something we expected. When we arranged our plan to get your mother and your father together, the idea was for her to conceive a male child we could prepare for our ritual. She was given certain alchemical preparations to enhance both her fertility and her likelihood of conceiving a boy.

  “Naturally, those monitoring her pregnancy were members of our group, and the first time she arrived for an examination, we were as shocked as you are now to discover that she was not only pregnant, but carrying twins—a boy and a girl.”

  Stone didn’t even try not to gape at her. “But—how? Didn’t my father suspect—”

  Nessa snorted. “Your father was oblivious. Of course, we arranged magic to hide the second baby’s aura from magical scrutiny, but as it turned out, we needn’t have taken the trouble. As my daughter reported, Orion Stone cared only about the child’s potential as his heir. He was away often, and when he was home, he showed no interest at all in the pregnancy. Oh, he made sure Acantha had every material need, every physical luxury she could want for, but as far as the day-to-day progression of the pregnancy, he barely noticed. Your mother could have been carrying quadruplets, and he might well not have caught on.”

  Stone clenched his fists behind his back, his shoulders slumping. “So…my mother took off, returning here when…”

  “When the children were about to be born, yes. She was delighted, of course—she felt that the girl child was a reward for her agreement to give up the boy for our needs. As if our benefactor was somehow indicating its approval. When the babies were born, young Acantha was taken away to be raised among us. Your father never had an inkling he had a second child, even after he killed my daughter.” She nodded toward her granddaughter. “And she has proven to be a powerful and talented asset to our community.”

  Stone, still numb, glanced between Nessa and Acantha. “She…knew, then? About what happened? About…me?”