by Sophia Sharp
Nora was jerked back to the present moment with that crude reminder. She was bound and still had no way out.
“So who was I?” Borrak continued. “I was but a man. A regular human man, too proud to see that he was dabbling with supernatural forces far beyond his control.”
Suddenly, Nora noticed something she hadn’t seen before. Hanging down the neck of Borrak’s shirt was a small golden chain. It hung heavy, like it was being weighed down by something. And as he moved to turn away, Nora caught just the slightest glimpse of what it was. A thick, circular pendant. And from its face came a dull, iridescent glow. The glow of a torrial. Nora knew immediately that the pendant had been the key to capturing her and the others.
“Wait!” she exclaimed just at Borrak was about the exit the tent. “You didn’t tell me – what did you do to me?”
“To you?” he turned, seemingly in confusion. Then, after examining her body, he laughed. “Oh. That. Well, you see, we found that some of the Vassiz are easier to contain when they become sapped of their…powers. Powers that they have no right to use without the permission of the elders. Which reminds me…” He walked back to the table where he had lay down the rag, and pulled a small jar out of his pocket. He pulled the stopper at the top off and carefully placed two drops on either side of the rag. Then he came back to Nora, holding it up for her. She squirmed away, but he gripped her head in one hand while using the other to stuff the rag back in her mouth.
“It’s an herb, mostly,” he explained, “mixed with some common spices. All very easy to obtain, you see, but not many know of its effects. It weakens the Vassiz inside of you. And, as long as we keep administering it…well, you remain under our control.” He managed to finally stuff the rag inside her mouth, and tied it off.
“You better rest up,” he said, just before he exited the tent. “We have a long night of excitement up ahead.”
As soon as the flap fluttered shut behind him, Nora exhaled the breath she was holding. So it was the rag in her mouth that was doing it! No wonder she couldn’t see nearly as well as before, or break free. Her Vassiz senses were dulled!
How long would the effects last? She didn’t know. And Borrak had just administered a new dose of the herbs to her, which meant…she felt herself growing sleepy. Shaking her head, she strained to keep thinking. It meant that the effects would be strengthened…again. She lost her train of thought. What was it she was thinking about? She wasn’t sure anymore. She felt drowsy. Her eyes drifted shut, then snapped wide open. The rag. Something about the rag. But already, she was drifting in and out. Blackness threatened to engulf her again, and she was powerless to stop it. Sleep came.
Chapter Nineteen
~A Ceremony~
A gust of wind brushed across Nora’s body. She opened her eyes slowly. She was unsure where she was. Why did her body feel so stiff? She tried to move her arms, but found them trapped behind her. What the…? Then her eyes fully opened, and she remembered exactly where she was.
She was bound in a tent, a prisoner of Borrak and Serkhol. And the gust of wind she had just felt across her body? That was both of them lifting the tent flap to come in.
Abruptly, she realized what that meant, and her heart started pounding. Her lungs screamed for air, but that filthy rag in her mouth prevented her from supplying it. All she could do was flare her nostrils to try to gulp down what little she could.
Borrak and Serkhol were not paying her any attention. At least, not yet. Neither of them so much as glanced at her as they walked over to the side table where her clothes lay. Nora watched, feeling absolutely terrified but stubbornly determined not to show it, as Borrak lifted his arms high in the air, and Serkhol reached into his pockets to take out a stack of long, narrow candles. Candles? Why would they need candles?
When Serkhol had the candles in his grip, he raised his arms much the same way his brother had. And Borrak, in turn, reached into Serkhol’s coat pocket to extract a second bunch of candles. These ones were much shorter, and much, much thicker.
Nora watched as they turned to each other, and calmly bowed their heads. The movements were all very precise, as if they had been coordinated ahead of time, or practiced, even. Nora felt like she was about to sick up. This was the start of some type of ceremony, she knew it, and she was going to be the centerpiece.
The two men straightened and extended their arms to place them on each other’s shoulders. Then they started to hum.
It was a dark, rhythmic noise, like the beating of a war drum. It penetrated deep into Nora’s mind and soul. Each was humming the same thing, until their voices combined into one. It had a steady rhythm, and a dark, deep bass. The humming grew louder and louder, until the noise became something of a chant. Neither Serkhol’s nor Borrak’s eyes deviated once from the other’s face until the chanting reached a dramatic, foreboding climax. And then it was abruptly cut off.
A silence stretched across the room. Everything was quiet except for Nora’s labored breathing. She could feel the sharpness of the points sticking into her back, feel the cold air pressing against her skin. And in the small tent, her sense of hopelessness grew. The air was stifling, and the filthy rag in her mouth with the concoction soaked into it burned her throat. But despite all that, she was proud that her face betrayed none of her fear. Robbing the brothers of the pleasure of knowing her fright would be one last small victory for her.
Serkhol and Borrak still stood apart from one another, still looking intensely into each other’s eyes. Then, very slowly, Serkhol lifted his hands from his brother’s shoulders. Borrak did the same. They moved as one to face the table, stepping beside each other so each had a perfect division of it. Nora’s clothes were brushed aside and fell to the dirt floor.
Nora watched as Serkhol placed his eight candles on the table in a large, circular pattern. She was amazed they did not fall, as there was no support she could see for them. Then Serkhol stepped aside, and Borrak placed his candles in the spaces between Serkhol’s, but drew them closer together in a much tighter circle. Then he stepped to the side, too, and both brothers looked at the arrangement.
They still had not so much as glanced at her. The whole thing, whatever it was, had a very practiced, very rehearsed feel. And it frightened Nora.
Suddenly, with a brief flick of the wrist, Borrak was holding a small flame. She could not say where the flame came from – it was just there, in his hand. He extended that hand out and moved it along every single one of his brother’s candles, cupping the top just for a second to light the wick.
When he was done, Serkhol repeated the same motion with his hand, and another flame appeared there. He brought his hand over each of his brother’s candles, lighting all of them in turn. Only when they were all fully lit did she catch him glance back at her, the hint of a smile on his lips.
As soon as the first candle had been lit, a fragrance started to take up the air of the room. It had been weak, at first, but now with all the flames burning, Nora could smell it in its full intensity. It was sharp, the way a drop of pure lemon juice might be, but at the same time a little bit soothing. Despite everything, Nora felt herself relax. It started with her shoulders, which drooped slightly down to ease the tension she felt. Next were her limbs, which felt smoothed over as the tightness in them disappeared. Even the sharp pricking in the small of her back seemed to become more distant. Finally her mind, which had been swirling with hundreds of anxious thoughts, fully relaxed.
Nora looked to Serkhol and Borrak, and realized both of them were watching her expectantly. They knew exactly what the fumes from the candles would do to her – had done to her. She tried to muster up the strength to resist the effects, to force her body back into that stiff, uncomfortable posture…but just couldn’t do it. It was like trying to scoop water up with a sieve. No matter how hard you tried, it just wouldn’t work.
“You see, girl,” Borrak said softly, “we do our best to take care of you. All we ask in return is that you take care of us.”
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br /> Nora’s eyes bulged, but she was powerless to do anything else. Borrak chuckled lightly and turned his attention to his brother.
Serkhol had started to unbutton his shirt. Slowly, button by button, Nora watched as his neckline dropped lower and lower. And the fumes from the candles were making their effects even more pronounced. Nora felt like she was in a complete daze. The body she inhabited was not her own anymore. Her mind was distant, removed from all the tactile senses of her body. Slowly, Serkhol’s shirt came all the way undone. And Nora saw a pendant, identical to the one she had seen on his brother.
The pendant was completely unobstructed now. For the first time, she had a clear view of it, and she became certain it was a torrial. An elaborate carving of symbols too small to be made out was etched on the front of it. Some of those lines glowed in the same way the symbols of the vault door had glowed. When Nora blinked, she found that an entirely different set of lines was glowing. In fact, the whole face of the pendant was pulsing, in a way, with that blue-ish green fluorescent light that she had come to recognize as a sign of torrial.
Nora hadn’t even noticed Borrak’s shirt had also come all the way undone, and the pendant he wore pulsed in much the same way as his brother’s. In fact, there seemed to be a connection in the way the faint light came on and off. Then Nora saw it. Yes! The lines on one pendant glowed in turn with the lines on the other – that is, when the first was glowing, the second was not, and vice versa.
And, if the fact that the two pendants looked completely identical wasn’t enough to tip her off, seeing them pulse together in turn like that did. The two were definitely connected, somehow, in some way. All Nora had to do was figure out how. And why.
Nora realized with a start that while focusing on the pendants, she had overlooked a particularly uncomfortable, disgusting feature of both men. With their shirts fully undone, she could see, for the first time, the complexion of their skin. And it sickened her.
It was splotchy, alternating between yellowing spots and dark spots, indiscriminately, much like their faces, and covered in deformities. If the top half of an arm was covered in hives, the bottom was struck by a vicious looking rash. If thick, red boils were infected on the left side of a stomach, the disfigured warts that mixed together with patchy bits of hair were right beside it on the right. On neither of the men did there seem to be a single clean spot of regular, recognizable skin.
Again, Serkhol bowed his head toward his brother, this time leaving his arms pressed to his sides. And Borrak reached toward him very carefully, very gingerly, to take hold of the chain holding the pendant. Slowly, he lifted it up over Serkhol’s head to take it off. As soon as it was off, Nora saw that the pulsing glow started to fade. Borrak extended his arms over the table and very carefully let the pendant drop, right in the middle of the candle arrangement. As soon as it touched the wood, the light winked out completely.
Borrak jerked in a small but awkward convulsion and nearly knocked over the entire table. Nora winced. Less than a second later, he was back up straight again, looking as if nothing had happened. His brother did not so much as acknowledge it.
Borrak bowed toward his brother the same way, and Serkhol reached out to take the pendant off his neck. The same thing happened when the second pendant was placed on the table – that is, the light that had shone in the delicate lines faded completely.
It was only once both pendants were on the table, placed precisely in the middle of the candle arrangement, that the two brothers looked at Nora.
And she saw hunger in their eyes.
They walked toward her casually, and Nora knew the ceremony was over. Whatever it had been, whatever it had done, it was over with. Their movement ceased to feel so scripted now. They were moving normally. She was frantic. She had to stall. There was no one left to come and save her, but she couldn’t help wanting to put off the inevitable as long as possible. “Wait. Can I ask you a question?” He had been so anxious to brag earlier, would the same tactic buy her more time now?
“I’m sure,” Borrak began quietly, “you are wondering what that was all about.”
“She looks the type to have a curious mind,” Serkhol offered.
She nodded weakly.
“Yesss, brother,” Borrak crooned. “That she does.” The two of them started circling around her like snakes.
“Which means you’re in luck, child,” Serkhol said. “For we found it is best for our guests to not have any lingering thoughts when we start the fun. They…take away from our enjoyment of events.”
“And we wouldn’t want anything less from you, would we?” Borrak asked. “We want you to be fully present with us when we take care of you tonight.”
“Which begins with your mind,” Serkhol explained. “So. We’ll answer the most basic question first. The medallion.”
“You see,” Borrak said, his face coming mere inches away from her ear, “it is something we don’t expect you to understand. But the least we could do is give you the courtesy of allowing you to try.”
“The medallions,” Serkhol hissed into her other ear, “keep track of what we do. They are the elders’ way of keeping tabs on us.”
“Of course,” Borrak sneered, “they grant us other powers, too. One such is what we used to capture you so easily.”
“Yes,” Serkhol said. “But the thing is, like the good hounds that we are, we are given certain privileges that others might not, if they ever found themselves in our position. For example…we are allowed certain private moments with them off.” Nora felt his tongue trace the outside of her ear and was helpless to stop it. “And that’s where you come in.”
Nora was breathing hard. The air in the room was completely stifling. As soon as the pendants, or medallions, or torrial, or whatever they were, had been placed in the middle of the arrangement on the table, the smoke from the candles intensified. Where it had been thin and light before, it had now become thick and viscous. And it had darkened, too, in a strange burn that stung the inside of her nose with every breath.
“Of course,” Borrak intervened, “it is not so easy to just remove them. The medallions…well, you remember that story I told you earlier? These medallions were the very same devices that my brother and I found to enter that other world.”
“A cruel fate, don’t you think?” Serkhol asked. “To be bound as slaves by the same item that gave you such freedom once?”
“It is the price we pay,” Borrak whispered. “And we cannot remove them ourselves. Somebody else needs to do it, always. And yet, there’s a catch. For if one of us does it without the other, we both die.”
“We have become tied in more ways than one,” Serkhol added, “so that we cannot go for more than even a few hours without the medallions on.”
“A cruel fate,” Borrak said. “But trust me, my darling, we intend to take advantage of every minute we get.”
Chapter Twenty
~Surrender~
Nora closed her eyes, but then forced them back open. She promised herself she would be strong enough to not give Borrak or Serkhol the satisfaction of knowing her fear. Do what they would with her body, they would not have her mind.
The irony of the whole thing was that she was a Vassiz, while they were just human. No matter how twisted they had become, and no matter what powers those torrial gave to them, they were, at their core, human men. And she was, at her core, a Vassiz. Humans were supposed to be her prey. She should have no problem dispatching with them, but she no longer had the powers that could free her. It was now two men against a teenage girl, and nothing more.
Serkhol came in front of her first. Slowly, he traced a finger along the curve of her neck, and then down her arm. Nora wanted to scream. But she held it all in. She kept her eyes focused squarely on the man in front of her, on the vile creature that had overpowered her so completely.
Suddenly, her ears picked up something outside the tent. Both men were looking greedily at her body and smiling to each other in anticipation.
Both were so preoccupied they couldn’t possibly notice the sound.
The noise came again. It was a rustling noise, like something big and heavy moving through the woods outside. And it was getting closer.
Nora looked at Borrak, who had now taken the spot in front of her after pushing his brother away. He grabbed her hair with one hand and twisted it until pain radiated through Nora’s entire body. He forced her head toward him and brought his nose down to the nape of her neck to inhale deeply.
Nora closed her eyes, fully expecting the worst, but then she heard the noise again. Peeking through slit eyelids, she saw that neither of the men seemed to have noticed. She heard the noise, and knew it was now much closer.
Serkhol produced the knife he used on her clothes before and handed it to Borrak silently. Easily, Borrak pressed it up against Nora’s neck, forcing her head back.
“You’re going to enjoy this, girl,” he said, and reached down for his belt.
A great roar sounded from outside, and one side of the tent ripped open. Nora’s head whipped in that direction, and her eyes fell on the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Gray, looking as fierce and ferocious as ever. His eyes shone with a savage intensity.
Serkhol and his brother were just as shocked. They stared, frozen in surprise, at the beast now inside the tent. And the next thing Nora knew, both of them threw themselves toward the side table, where their torrial lay.
But Gray was faster. In one giant step, he was on the two men. With one massive paw, he threw Borrak aside. At the same time, he knocked Serkhol over and ripped into his shoulder with his mouth. Serkhol cried out in pure agony as Gray’s teeth sunk into the flesh of his shoulder.
Nora saw a flash of steel out of the corner of one eye. Her head darted toward Borrak, who had gotten up and launched himself at Gray with the knife gripped in one hand. Nora tried to cry out, to warn her bear, but the gag in her mouth prevented her from making an audible sound.
