Robert was striding confidently now. The look of victory plain on his face. Jenny stepped away from the seal, rounding it and keeping it between him and her.
He continued to approach her, following her around the hole, a grin fixed on his mangled face.
He looked at his watch, and then raised his arm. “Duratus.” The word was hurled at her with such force that he sprayed blood and saliva onto her face. She recoiled as it hit, her neck slung backward before freezing her in that uncomfortable position.
Robert laughed, and continued around the seal. He picked her up, and carried her back to the post. He threw her down, searching for something to tie her with. He crossed to Simon, and undid the mage’s belt and yanked it free from his bloodied and tattered trousers.
Jenny’s was secured to the post, her hands bound by the soft, warm leather of the belt.
She watched Robert, so arrogant and so smug, as he started the ceremony. Tears ran down her face as she knew they had lost. It was so close… how could she stay alive for just another few minutes?
Chapter Forty-Five
Doris steered the Audi through the woods, and back to the mansion. Her heart hammered in her chest as fear and sorrow filled it with equal measure. The stupid dog had either run off chasing rabbits or was headed back to help Jenny. Either way she needed to find her, and get away. Alex was right. At least if she and Rosie were safe... She stopped her train of thought knowing that she was going back also.
Robert had subjected her to insufferable torment and had prevented her from telling anyone. For years part of her knew it was real, but a bigger part of her believed it was a fantasy, that somehow, she had imagined it. She even wondered if she had gotten the tattoo herself. Damn that man. He had to die.
She brushed back tears as the car exited the trees, and approached the house. The rain had finally stopped, and moonlight was sending a glimmer of hope down through the clouds. We will be five against one, she thought. We are bound to succeed.
The thought of Robert beaten stirred her on, and it rode over the terror that threatened to choke her. She increased her speed as she approached the malevolent looking house. Everyone loved the building, but the facade, with its dark bricks and tiny windows seemed evil to her as if they hid a sinister secret.
The security lights came on, guiding her to the door. Rosie’s muscular body disappeared into the doorway just as Doris rounded the corner. The dog was going at full pelt, head down and hackles raised, her red and brown coat shining at each extension of her legs. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and was determined nothing would get in her way.
Doris pointed the car towards the door, slamming on the brakes at the last moment. It screeched to a halt beside the open entrance.
She turned off the engine, and hesitated for a second as fear crept stealthily back into her heart.
“Damn,” she shouted. Knowing that movement would chase down the fear, she jumped from the car, and raced into the house.
All appeared normal. Black marble stretched out before her, a staircase lay ahead and doorways headed off in all directions. She stopped. Now what? Listening she could hear Rosie’s claws scrabbling for purchase. The noise came from her left. She headed in that direction, and noticed a trail of water marring the perfect floor. She followed the trail and the receding noise of claws on marble deeper into the house. She knew she would either help her friend or die trying, but that was all right this was meant to be.
Chapter Forty-Six
Jenny held her breath, and struggled against the invisible force that kept her in place. She could feel a little give as the spell weakened, and she was able to move her toes just an inch. She should have dropped into the pit, and then this would have been over. Robert would die without her sacrifice, and her friends would be safe. Her selfishness would cost all their lives. She wondered about Doris and Rosie, and prayed that at least they were safe.
Her neck ached; it was held at an uncomfortable angle when Robert sent his spell. Even though, she could not move the muscles spasmed in pain. She could see him, on the other side of the seal. Desperation grew on his face as he searched around the desk. He ran his hand across it, and sent papers and books crashing to the concrete floor. Turning, he flew at Simon, kicking him hard in the ribs.
Simon grunted in pain, the force of the blow pushing him backward. His frozen form was unable to move away from the next blow. Robert kicked him again and again, each blow connecting with a sickening thud that rocked the body of the helpless mage on the cold concrete floor.
“Where is the knife?” Robert screamed, as blood and spit flew from his torn bottom lip.
Robert turned away from Simon, and stormed across to Alex, who stood mid-stride where the spell had frozen him. His eyes were trained on Simon’s as he tried to communicate that they must fight the magic that held them.
Robert hit him, a solid plug to the face. The blow caused blood to splash from his lip, and it danced in the air before plunging to the ground. His head flew back alarmingly far, and for a moment he wobbled with the force of the blow. Jenny realized what her father was trying to tell Simon. They had to fight against Robert’s will as he was getting tired. Maybe if all of them fought he would lose control.
She concentrated hard, and fought with all her heart, willing her muscles to move, to allow her to get back her free will. Bit by bit she could feel her toes moving, then her ankles. She worked up her body in a kind of anti-relaxation meditation. She concentrated on each muscle group, demanding that it obey her commands to move. It was exhausting work, but she would not give in. At last she was able to support her weight, and straighten her neck, and she could talk.
“Hey Robert, you big ugly coward. Pick on someone your own size.” The insult was weak, but it stopped a punch inches from Alex’s bruised face.
Rage filled Robert’s eyes as he whirled back towards her.
“What is wrong with you people,” he screamed, “Can’t you just play fair?”
He ran to her around the seal, and as he did, he spotted the knife tucked in beneath one of the open plates. Victory crossed his face as well as greed. He picked the knife up, and checked his watch.
“Ten minutes, my pretty. Plenty of time for me to slice open your jugular, and drink long and deep of your precious blood.” He laughed as he approached her, his torn lip swinging disgustingly with the swagger of his walk.
Jenny slumped inside as the fight left her. They had fought so hard to avoid this moment, but in the end evil always won. Hot tears ran from her eyes, and streamed down her cheeks. She looked at her father, beaten and rigid in front of her, and Simon, his mutilated face only just starting to heal. She knew now that she loved him, and had to choke back fresh tears, knowing she would never be able to tell him.
Robert placed the knife before her, and strutted back to the altar to retrieve the horn. Aldona was laying on the altar the horn in her hands. She winked at him as he took it. Jenny watched as that wink seemed to fill him with power. He grew a little taller, a little straighter. He had made it. He caressed the horn lovingly as he walked back to Jenny.
He picked up the knife, and tucked the horn into his belt. As he approached, Jenny tensed herself, and then as he got closer, she kicked out with both legs, and fought against the belt fastening her wrists to the pole. She struck Robert’s knee with a lucky hit, sending him back as anger replaced the triumph on his face. He lashed out in rage, the knife missed her eye by a sliver, and sliced into her cheek. Blood poured from the wound, and ran down her neck, mixing with sweat and tears.
Robert had moved back, hugging his knee. He decided to use one last spell to hold her. He breathed in, his face haggard and drawn. Summoning the rest of his energy, he sent the spell. “Duratus.”
* * *
The two mages had been watching and waiting, knowing if he sent another spell that it would be his moment of weakness. They fought in tandem, both applying mental force to the spell that held them at exactly the same time.
Alex was free first. He breathed in a gulping breath, and rushed forward towards Robert. Simon moved slightly later, getting up from the floor, and crossing to the desk he picked up the heavy wooden chair.
Alex leaped upon Robert, his arms around his neck as he clawed at the mage’s throat. He wrapped his legs around the other man’s waist, trying to force him to the ground. Robert tried to speak, and Alex released his throat and grabbed for his mouth, preventing the use of magic. They crashed to the floor and spun over in a heap. Robert was fighting back, and still stronger than his one-time friend. He pushed Alex onto his back, and smashed his head into the concrete. The blow freed his mouth. He opened it to issue a spell when a chair came crashing down on his back. Knocked sideways. Robert rolled across the cellar. Simon offered a hand to Alex, and pulled him swiftly to his feet.
The two friends backed up until they formed a barrier between Robert and Jenny. Robert was to the right of Simon, tensing and ready to attack. Alex glanced left and caught the blond man’s eyes, understanding passed between them. Together they should be strong enough to hold Robert back, at least for the next few minutes. They held hands, and stared back at the furious mage, concentration lining their faces. It didn’t matter if they died, as long as they kept him back until the time had passed. Until Jenny was safe.
* * *
Robert leaped to his feet just in time to see his two adversaries’ line up against him. A hand rose to his lip, and pulled back instantly as pain seared through his jaw. Heavy fatigue wanted to push him to his knees, and the urge to give in was overwhelming. This was not supposed to happen; he had planned things so well it should have gone like clockwork. In his mind he saw Aldona rise before him. Admiration lined her face as she delighted in his sacrifice. Her gratitude surrounded him as his body transformed to that of his youth. Looking down he was disappointed to see that he still had the paunch he hadn’t carried at twenty. No this was not going to happen. He shook his head to shake away the vision. The work he had put in, the studying and the practice he had made would all come to fruition in the next few minutes. He could do this. He would be like a young god with the perfect body and excellent health, there would be no more wheezing and no more dizziness. He needed this sacrifice, to heal and to survive his heart condition. Damn them.
He looked at the two mages, and then at Aldona. Head bowed, he walked toward his goddess, who was still seductively draped across the altar. He approached her, his eyes to the ground, subservience demonstrated. “Oh Great One, help me, your worthy accolade?” he asked.
Aldona flicked out her right arm, and the index finger settled under his chin. She raised her arm and the nail pricked his skin, forcing his head up to eye level. “Why should I choose you, over my two lovely boys over there?” Her left hand pointed to the two mages.
“I have an offering. They try and deny you this worthy sacrifice.” He knew he was whining now, his voice that of a petulant child. “Besides, it is I who raised you.”
He could see the blood oozing from her leather, and felt a slight repulsion. She had always looked so hot, yet now she appeared to be decaying before his eyes. Her clothes smelt of putrefaction, the leather no longer supple appeared to be breaking in places. Her skin once so smooth and luscious was now lined with deep blue veins, her black eyes now blood red and angry.
“You dragged me from my dimension with the promise of a sacrifice, and then you forced me to return and reappear in another place. Do you know how tiresome and draining that is? These men have already honored me. You, so far, are just talk.” She pushed the finger into his chin, causing him to gulp.
“But they worship Sophana now. They have denied you.”
“Sophana is my little sister. Though weak, she is still blood.”
He backed away, unsure.
Her skin was flaking, becoming older, and breaking off in places. “I will not intervene. I will prevent the sacrifice leaving until the appointed hour, but the rest is down to you.”
She shoved Robert away from her, back toward the mages. He could feel the papery touch of her hand as it seemed to dissolve on contact with him, but the force behind it was real enough. The push left him scrambling to remain upright as he stumbled across the concrete. Wheeling his arms, he righted himself before facing the friends.
* * *
Simon and Alex stood watching the wormy man bowing before the Aldona. They could not hear what he was saying, but knew he was after some sort of deal. But she was tricky. You could never tell which side she would take. They saw him smile, and then saw his fear as she shoved him away. They looked at each other.
“Phew,” Simon said. They would have been lost if she had helped.
“Damn it you two, untie me,” Jenny called from behind them.
“Not now, we’re concentrating,” her father replied.
Robert was back before them, a sick look on his face, and the fight began.
Robert sent spell after spell, whipping his arms into a frenzy as he blasted with all his strength at the two men. Each spell was countered by one or both of the wizards, but all three men were tiring.
It was Robert who backed down first. Glancing at his watch, he turned, and ran back to the desk. Picking something up, he tucked it into the back of his trousers. He approached the two mages, a look of triumph on his face. He pulled the metal object from behind him, and held it in his right hand just out of their view. With his left hand, he summoned his remaining energy, and fired a spell at the two friends. They countered the spell, and at the same instant he brought the revolver from behind him.
Alex saw the gun, and was desperate to bring his attention from the spell, but it was too late and the barrel turned towards him. He watched as the bullet left the barrel, a puff of smoke heralding its approach. The projectile hit his chest, punching straight through, and entered his heart. His knees folded as the gun turned again. The second slug was aimed for Simon. It flew from the gun as Alex hit the concrete. It hit Simon in his chest, picked him from his feet and threw him to land in a heap beside the crying Jenny.
It happened so fast, Alex thought as he hit the ground. He knew his heart was shattered, and that he was out of the fight. He lay on the floor, and tried to summon a protection spell for Jenny, but he had no power. Looking into her sweet face his eyes closed. Then nothing.
Simon was sprawled in a heap beside Jenny no movement came from his burned form.
Robert lifted the revolver to his mouth, and blew into the barrel as he winked at Jenny. Bending, he retrieved the sacrificial knife and horn, and checked his watch before reaching out and stroking Jenny’s head. “Three minutes to go. This has sure been a cliff hanger.”
He raised the knife, and showed her the blade before sliding it down her cheek. Jenny stayed still, unsure how much movement she had gained when she was released from the spell. She had to wait for some advantage.
He placed the knife against her throat and pressed until a spot of blood appeared along its razor-like edge.
“Just three more minutes -- and then forever.” Robert leered over the blade.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Doris heard the gunshot as she rushed towards the garage. Ice water pumped through her heart and she froze on the spot. Rosie’ supple body flowed around the corner, and was gone from sight. The urge to run was strong, but what could she do against a gun. Rosie ran ahead unafraid as Doris dithered on the spot torn between her own life, and that of her friends. She wanted to turn and run, wanted to leave here and get as far away as possible. Fear had traced an icy finger down her back, almost turning her away. Yet the thought of Jenny held her fast. She would not leave her friend, would not let this happen to her. She listened, silence stretched. There was just a slight tapping of Rosie’s claws on the concrete floor, but nothing else. Doris knew her legs were shaking and weak; she knew it was suicide, but she surged forward after the dog.
She burst into the garage. Rosie stood peering down a hole. The second shot came. It seemed deafen
ingly loud, and echoed around the room as she neared the distressed dog. Rosie whined, and pawed at the ground, her body shaking with frustration. She moved back, and looked at Doris, her eyes pleading for help. She barked with frustration, and stepped tentatively forward towards a round gap similar to a manhole that was set in the floor. Steep steps lead down into the gloom. Doris peered into the hole as Rosie whined her distress, and touched Doris’s face with her soft muzzle. The dog was shaking, and moved a paw toward the top step. She pulled it back, and looked at Doris. Doris felt a lump in her throat, a ball of terror which seemed to swell at the thought of going down those steps. Looking over, she could see a room was below them. She could not go down there. She hugged the dog, gaining comfort from the warmth of her strong, supple body, and put her foot onto the first step. Rosie whined again, “No,” Doris said. “Rosie wait here.”
Rosie lay down, her head on her paws as Doris turned towards the cellar. She swallowed her terror, and continued down the steps.
Halfway down it struck her; this was another sacrificial chamber. The thought stopped her dead. The urge to turn and run was so strong she felt a wave of dizziness, and clasped onto the metal. Gripping the steel tightly she took a deep breath. Counting to ten she filled her lungs to bursting. She had to get out of here, and started to climb back up when Helen’s face appeared in her mind. No, she could not leave her friends. She clung for a moment unable to move, and then started the climb back down.
More of the cellar was revealed as she descended. A shudder passed through her as she realized it was similar to the one in Robert’s house, though smaller and more brightly lit. Was Simon really the same as Robert? Had he killed his daughter? She had met Cherry a long time ago, and remembered the rift between Alex and Robert. But she had not been with the family long, and did not really understand it. She drew in a sharp breath; her friends had altered her memory. She had known Simon as an older man, had known him before he killed his daughter. “Damn it, Doris, not now,” she mumbled, forcing herself to concentrate on the situation before her. But doubt crept into her mind. She must be careful. Jenny was the only innocent here, and if she could help it, no one was going to sacrifice her.
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