by Kim Harrison
She pulled her hand from mine. “I’m scared.”
“Winona—”
“What if we get out?” she said, her voice louder. “What happens then? Rachel, I’m a monster!”
My jaw hurt, and I forced myself to relax. “You are not a monster.”
“Then I’m a freak!”
Frustrated, I took her shoulders in my hands, making her look at me. “You are not a freak. They cursed you. Curses can be untwisted.”
There was a glint of light on her cheek, and she wiped a stubby hand under her eye. “Promise?” she whispered. “I don’t think my cat will come back if he sees me like this.”
I knew she was trying to be funny, and it made me all the more determined that she wasn’t going to end her life like this. “I promise,” I said, but inside I was cringing. I promise? I can’t promise her anything. What am I doing?
“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, Winona seemed to settle herself, as if taking on the burden of seeing a great task to the end. She hadn’t merely agreed to try to get us out, but agreed that she’d try to escape, to risk others seeing her like this, and find a way to get back to normal.
I gave her a hug, proud of her. She smelled different now that she’d gotten that protein out of her system. Meadowy and sunny. Nice.
Pulling back, I nodded once. “Okay.” I thought as I looked at the door, knowing the lock was the weakest spot. “I’ve never taught anyone, but I’ve got a white ley-line charm that I use to warm water. I don’t know why it wouldn’t work on metal, too. If we can get the lock or hinges hot enough, maybe we can break the latch.” Stretching, I gave the door a shove, and it gave slightly under my foot. “I’ll do it first, then you try. You sure you can see me?”
“I can see everything,” she said, her big eyes blinking once. “I can see better now than when the lights are on.”
Okay-y-y-y. “I’ll give you the words and finger motions together,” I said as I scooted closer, and her head tilted down. “From candles’ burn and planets’ spin, friction is how it ends and begins,” I said, feeling silly, but the rhyme helped me remember the finger motions, and Winona tried to mimic me, her thin lips moving.
I clapped my hands, saying, “Consimilis.”
She jumped, and I added, “Cold to hot, harness within, calefacio!”
Winona looked at me, hesitated, and said, “Was something supposed to happen?”
I rocked back from her a little. “It would have if I had been connected to a ley line,” I said sourly. It had felt weird doing the charm without being connected, like walking up the stairs in the dark to find that the last step isn’t there when your foot falls through space. “Let me show you the finger motions again,” I said, and she nodded. “That’s what’s important. The rhyme is just to remember them. That and the Latin.”
“What if I accidentally fry myself? Or you?”
I smiled, remembering thinking just about the same thing when Ceri had taught me. “It won’t work on anything with an aura,” I said, and then my smile faded. I’d used it once to burn Kisten’s murderer to ash, but the vampire had been dead—really dead—for almost a year before I’d found him. “It’s really simple. You connect to a ley line, do the finger moves, and then say the Latin. Oh! And you need a focusing object.”
My eyes had adapted somewhat, and I saw her screw her face up. “A focusing object?”
I reached over to the mesh and wiggled a stray wire back and forth, trying to work it free. “Sometimes I use one, sometimes I don’t. It depends on how, ah, focused you are.”
The wire started moving more easily, and with a ping, it separated. The end was warm in my fingers, and I handed it to her, hesitating. It wasn’t as if she could hold it while she was doing the finger moves, and putting it in her mouth like I did when I warmed water wasn’t the best option.
“Uh, maybe you should just touch the bars with your foot,” I said. “That’s a connection of a sort.”
Winona took it from me, and I stared, shocked when she lifted her blouse and tucked the wire behind a fold of skin at her middle. “I, uh, have a pouch,” she said, and I gaped at her, remembering to shut my mouth only when she began to look embarrassed.
“Does Gerald know?” I said, and she grinned.
“Nope.”
“Well, if this doesn’t work, maybe you could smuggle something in here with us.”
“Way ahead of you,” she said, her head going down as she pulled out a paper clip and a sharp chunk of thin plastic. “Put these in your sock, will you? They’re making me itch like crazy.”
“Winona,” I said as I tucked them away. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’d make one hell of a runner?”
“I went to school to act,” she said, the faint light shining on her teeth as she grinned.
The paper clip was warm from her body, and the plastic hard, but the sensations soon vanished. “With the focusing object, all you need to do is simply look at where you want the heat to go, and the charm will act there.”
“I just have to look at it?” she said, her tone bordering on disbelief.
“You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” I asked, and she squirmed. “It’s not as hard as most witches make out. You can do this.”
She nodded. “I forgot the words.”
I stifled my sigh, wondering if I was going to make a more impatient teacher than Ceri. “We’ll do it together,” I said. “Fire burns and planets spin. Friction is how it ends and begins. Consimilis!”
She mimicked me, and we clapped together. “Calefacio!” we both said simultaneously, our fingers moving as one. Winona jumped as the energy flowed through her, and I stifled a yelp when sparks burst from the door lock.
“You did it!” I cried, scrambling up to push on the door only to find that it was still latched. Disappointment brought my shoulders down, but Winona was delighted.
“It worked!” she said, not upset that it hadn’t snapped the lock. “It’s like putting a spoon in the microwave. All sparks! I’m going to try again.”
“Hold on a sec,” I said as I gingerly touched the metal to find it was barely warm. “Give it twice what you did, and I’ll kick it.”
“What if it catches you on fire?” she said, and I balled up my hands and took a stance.
“Then put me out, but I’m kicking that lock the instant you say the last word.”
Winona took a nervous breath, and I clenched my jaw, focusing on the door. This was really dumb. Why in hell had I ever abandoned my magic? Because I didn’t want to live in the ever-after the rest of my life? Because Al would be mad enough to lock me in a box? Okay, they were really good reasons, but it was time I accepted that my magic came with an awful price and just pay it, even if it left me alone and apart.
“You can do this, Winona,” I said, deciding to worry about it later—if I had a later. “You’re a strong woman.” That metal hadn’t been very hot. Maybe she didn’t have the fortitude to channel enough ley-line energy.
“Consimilis, calefacio!” Winona exclaimed, and I darted my foot out in a side kick. It hit the door the same time her charm did, and the mesh shook as the sparks flew. The scent of hot metal rose, but the door didn’t move.
“Again!” I exclaimed, my pulse quickening.
“Consimilis, calefacio!” she shouted gleefully, and I flung my foot at the door, screaming along with her.
The door gave way, and I fell forward, my momentum propelling me into the center of the room. Exuberant, I caught myself and turned. The door was swinging shut again, the lock a glowing mess of melted metal. The stench of burning wire was choking, and I grinned as Winona stared, her mouth open and her eyes huge and black in the dim light from the monitors. “I did it . . .”
“That was fabulous!” I exclaimed. Lurching, I stuck my foot in front of the door before it could swing back and melt shut. No way would it hold either of us again. The air, even a foot away from the glowing wires, was hot, and I held the door open with one foot while I reached in
to help Winona up.
“I can stand,” she said, scrambling up and balancing with no problem.
“You can stand!” I echoed, my smile getting wider. “You can walk!” I exclaimed, backing up when she trotted toward me, little hooves clacking on the cement.
“I was faking.” Winona trip-trapped to where they had put her clothes and her purse. “I played the part of a cripple one semester. Got to be good at it.” Frowning, she held up a long coat. It had a masculine cut that went to the floor and would hide her feet. “I think this must have been Kenny’s.”
My heart pounded. She tossed my coat to me, and I caught it. The dart gun was next, right in the drawer that Eloy had put it into. “Let’s go,” I said, looking up at the gray monitors, then hissed, “Wait!” when I remembered the data book.
Winona hesitated, and I scanned the books on the shelf, impatient until I found the one with the names of everyone they’d killed. “Okay,” I said, excited as I tucked it under an arm. “Now we can go.”
I fell into place behind Winona, marveling at how quickly she could move, almost as fast as a vampire. I couldn’t help but stare at that little slip of a tail showing from under her coat. She was almost like a ghost as she went before me, her eyes seeing the boxes and low-hanging baskets before I did. Things were starting to look familiar from the monitors, and looking behind me, I saw a tiny red light glowing from a camera. Not knowing if they were recording this, I gave it the one-fingered salute and followed Winona to the stairway.
This wasn’t bad, it was almost too easy. Winona slowed, looking up the stairs in consideration. “You need some help?” I whispered, thinking of her oddly shaped legs. She was doing great on horizontal surfaces, but this was almost straight up and narrow.
“I don’t know.” She put a hand on the banister and turned to smile. “I think I can make it, but I’ll need to go fast. Maybe if you could open the door at the top so I don’t run into it?”
Nodding, I touched her shoulder and crept up the stairs, listening. The woman was strong, I’d give her that. At the top of the stairs, I hesitated, then slowly turned the dented brass knob. I had no idea where we were.
The door stuck for a second, then the old paint let go and it swung open. Cooler air slipped past my feet, somehow smelling mustier than the basement. It was dark, and I gave the narrow, tall-ceilinged hall a careful look before slipping out. One way led to an open room, the other dead-ended at a window. It was even darker outside, no moon at all.
“Okay!” I whispered down the stairs, then stood in the hall and held the door while Winona tried the first stair. She almost fell, but then she backed up, gathered her long coat, and took the stairs at a dead run.
My eyes widened as she barreled up, making enough noise for six goats. She was out of control at the top, and I grabbed her arm to keep her from hitting the wall. Behind us, the door eased shut. I held her arm until she found her balance, then let go. Both of us were breathing heavily, me from fear, Winona from exertion. “You okay?” I whispered, and she pulled the long coat aside to look at her impossibly thin ankles.
“I think so,” she said, then smiled, her thick canines catching the faint light. “Let’s go.”
There was only one way, and she tried to walk softly, but her hooves clacked on the old wood floor. If anyone was here, they’d hear it. Wincing with each step, we tiptoed to the end of the hall and looked into what seemed like a restored living room from the 1800s, complete with placards and roped-off chairs. Tall windows let in the faint light and cold through thin panes of glass wavering with age. Soft emergency lights lit the space, and by a set of official-looking doors was a reception desk. Thank God. There’d be a phone.
“Where are we?” Winona asked, and I sent my eyes up to the ceiling where a mock-up of the solar system shifted in the draft from the heating ducts.
“The observatory,” I said, hope making me jittery. Damn, we were like ten minutes from my mom’s old house. “Stay here. I’ll make a call, and we can just sit and wait.”
“Rachel,” she hissed, but I was already moving. We could be home in an hour, have the entire HAPA crew in custody in fifteen minutes.
I slid behind the desk, looking for the phone. Seeing it, I picked it up and punched in Glenn’s number. The 911 service would take forever.
“Rachel!”
“What!” I whispered loudly, then frowned. Why wasn’t I hearing a phone ring? Hell, I wasn’t even hearing a dial tone.
“Look out!” Winona shouted, and I looked up at the dark shadow coming at me.
“Get down!” Eloy shouted, and I threw the phone at him. It wasn’t connected to the wall, and it sailed the thirty feet and crashed on the floor in a crack of plastic.
“Now!” Chris shouted from somewhere, and the lights flashed on, blinding me. Winona shrieked, and I heard Gerald grunt. Squinting, I saw him holding his middle and Winona running from him, those feet of hers easily outdistancing Jennifer, reaching for her.
“Son of a bitch,” I snarled as I pulled the dart gun, aiming at Eloy and pulling the trigger.
Eloy slid to a stop five feet from me, the little dart with the red fletch hitting him right in the arm where I wanted it. His eyes went to it, and my bravado evaporated when he plucked it out and shook his head. Blanks! I thought, then threw the gun at him, pissed.
Eloy ducked, and the gun clattered next to the broken phone. In the background, Jennifer and Chris were trying to corral Winona. She skittered from them, her eyes almost shut from the light.
“Too easy,” Eloy said as he reached for me. “I told them you could escape.”
“Yeah? Well, you were right!” I said, and kicked at him. Or at least I would have if someone hadn’t sucker-punched me in the head.
Stars exploded as pain reverberated from my ear to my nose and back again. I reeled backward, suddenly nauseated as the lights went gray and the world spun. I fell to one knee, caught by someone smelling like blue jeans. It was Gerald, and his eyes still held the pain from where Winona had kicked him.
“This was a bad idea!” Chris was yelling. “She made it to the phone!”
Eloy bent over me, and I tried to push his hand away when he peeled my eyelids back to make sure my pupils dilated right. “That’s why I unplugged it. Hag.”
“Will one of you help us with goat girl here!” Chris shouted, clearly frazzled.
“You are all going to rot in hell, even if I have to carry you there on my back,” I breathed. My eyes were shut, but I could hear Winona’s hooves and hear her crying, trying to find a way out.
“Look, you ugly goat!” Eloy shouted, and I felt him grab my hair and pull my head up. “Either you stop running, or I’m going to kill her! Right now! And it will be your fault!”
“Go, Winona,” I tried to shout, but it came out in a whisper. “Go . . .”
“I mean it!” Eloy shouted, and something cold touched my throat. “I’ll cut her open right here, and she’ll bleed out in front of you!”
I tried to open my eyes, failing.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Winona cried out, and then she yelped. I heard a skittering of hooves, and then her sobbing close by. The knife vanished from my neck, and Eloy let go of my hair. My head fell against Gerald, and I felt like crying, too. It had all been a setup. They’d wanted to know if we could escape, and we walked right into it, all the way down to the blanks in the dart gun and the disconnected phone. I was such an idiot.
My head lolled as Gerald flung me over his shoulder. The blood rushed to my spinning head, clearing it for an instant, and then it got fuzzy again.
“Hey!” Chris shouted, and I felt her take her notebook out of my back pocket. “You’re stealing my research?” she shouted.
“It’s evidence,” I slurred. “Get it right . . . bitch.”
“The chubi tried to take my research!” she exclaimed again, and I managed to get my eyes open, right when the lights went off again.
“Shut the hell up,” Eloy grumbled, and we a
ll started back to the stairway. “Lock it up next time.”
“She’s not going to get out again,” Chris vowed, and somehow, as I was carried back downstairs and dumped on a cold floor, I couldn’t argue with her.
I’d failed miserably. If I’d had my magic, I could have put up a circle and blocked that punch. I could have flooded Gerald with ever-after and dropped him like a rock. I could have lit the dark with a light, melted the bars with a word, punched a hole through the walls of the basement itself! But without it . . . I was nothing. Useless.
It wasn’t who I wanted to be.
Chapter Sixteen
I’d been in the stinking bathroom long enough that I couldn’t smell it anymore, and that sort of bothered me. They’d tossed me in here hours ago to keep me away from Winona. The tiny four-by-six room was disgusting, but careful inspection had shown me a way out. I just needed some time by myself. After I’d threatened to anatomically change Jennifer and Gerald if they dared open that door to so much as give me my dinner, peace was what I got. Stupid. The last thing you want to do is lock your prisoner in a badly designed, poorly constructed basement bathroom and ignore her. Whoever built this thing hadn’t made it to code. There were at least two feet between the studs.
Lower lip between my teeth, I pulled another chunk of wallboard from the growing hole I’d started with the chunk of plastic Winona had given me. The piece of wallboard was about the size of my hand, and I quietly set it in the water tank. I could take a larger chunk, but the bigger the piece, the more noise it made. I thought it was about three in the morning, but I didn’t like how close I was to their lair, and I was going to err on the side of caution. We weren’t going to get another chance after this. If I failed again, one of us was going to die, and it would probably be Winona. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.
Cold, I wiped the back of my hand under my nose and carefully wiggled another piece back and forth until the paper gave way. I’d not heard a peep from anyone in hours, and I hoped Winona was okay. The hole was big enough on this side of the studs for me to slip out. All that was left was breaking the other side open.
