by Lorelei Bell
This one action caused several reactions to happen at once. Zofia felt Power, hot and tight, sizzle through her, beginning in her abdomen and radiated up her chest, and then down her arms, into her fingers; Otto's meaty arms came around her; five other people—men—advanced on her. Red bolts of energy surged from her fingertips, burning the rope which bound her, and the ropes snapped, and she brought both hands up and hit all five men with huge fiery-red bolts, lifting all off the floor, and throwing them at least fifteen feet, where they then crashed to the floor, or into a wall, or into a column.
Otto grunted, blinked at her in surprise, and made a move to gain his feet. She zapped him again and threw him another twenty feet away where he slammed into a solid marble column and this finally knocked the big bull of a man out.
There was shouting all around, and she was breathing hard, watching everyone watch her, keeping their distance. She'd taken a stance, hands to her sides, waiting for the least provocation from anyone nearby, feeling the Power build in her hands.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY ALCHEMIST!” The sonorous timbre echoed hugely in the tomb-like room. “YOU'VE JUST MANGLED MY ALCHEMIST!”
Zofia swung about, left hand poised to zap Phineas. Before she was half way around, a huge jolt of red hit her. It felt just like the time she had held the Stone up during a lightning storm, not that long ago, and was hit by the backlash of lightning—the very essence which fed the Stone its power. The pain was incredible, and wouldn't stop. She screamed until she thought she would go mad from the pain. When he finally let up, she fell into unconsciousness where she could feel no more pain.
Chapter 40
Her hands seemed to be numb. And she couldn't move them, or her feet. Slitting her eyes, she peered past a feathering of dark lashes. A face loomed into view above her—she was aware only then that she was prone. Phineas' mouth stretched into a satisfied, but grim smile.
“Ah, and you're back with us again,” he said, using a slightly higher, softer tone, as though speaking to a belove child, but the malice behind it was clear.
It had only taken her a few seconds to become coherent enough to understand where she was. Her bare bottom and shoulders rested on a cold, hard surface—something like a slab of ice—and she was quite positive her nipples were hard as diamonds. It didn't take total consciousness to understand she was absolutely nude and strapped to that strange dais.
“I don't know how you managed to get free, but, as you can see,”—he gestured grandly around himself— “it did you little good.” As he spoke, Zofia examined the ties at her wrists, and could feel the ligatures at her ankles. Another face swam into her peripheral. The face could have belonged to a woman or a man, but the shaven head gave him away. Large blue eyes glanced at her, but only briefly. He wasn't interested in her, not sexually, as had been Cagliostro, or Otto, earlier. His interest was in Phineas.
“Keeler,” Phineas said almost caressingly, as he turned to him. Grasping the smaller man's shoulder with one large hand, he then massaged it fondly. Keeler's eyes went half lidded, looking like a kitten being petted by his master. She almost could hear him purr. “I would like you to be over there.” He pointed across Zofia's chest to somewhere beyond. “I want you to face her, so that when I come to you, I am able to enjoy the delicious sight of her being taken by Apep.”
The effeminate Keeler nodded and left his side to do as he said.
Zofia tugged at her taught ligatures. There was no wiggle room at all. They were very tight. In fact, she was feeling a tingly numbness in both her fingers and toes. Plus her head was pounding.
“Phineas, if I get loose,” she began in a growl, jaw tight, “I'm going to kill you.”
Phineas' mouth curved into an ugly arc. He was obviously unimpressed and unafraid of such hollow threats.
Something was said off the side, in Tuscan. Cagliostro spoke to Phineas who said “no” to whatever he'd suggested.
“I wish to hear her terrified screams as Apep enters her.”
Zofia's stomach roiled. If only she could vomit on him, now, it wouldn't do her any good, but she would take great satisfaction in seeing him covered in it. She wanted to scream profanities at him, but knew, at this point, words would not help her. She had to hope, and pray that Stephen would come and save her in time. There was also the missing Saint Germain, as well. His whereabouts were a big mystery.
“Patients, my dear,” Phineas said, leaning over her, watching her wriggle slightly at her bonds. She looked up into his gleaming blue eyes as he drank in her helpless form. His hand floated above her face, and then went lower, toward her chest, mere inches from her bare skin. She could feel the heat radiate from his hand. She didn't know what he intended on doing, and held her breath, waiting.
“Touch her, Phineas, and I'll hang you by your tongue over the highest cliff.” The voice from across the chamber, although slightly choked, had an unmistakable air of arrogance Zofia knew all too well.
Chuckling, Phineas drew away from her and faced Dorian where he was still bound to the slim obelisk. Zofia gasped a breath of relief, as one tear leaked from her eye. Dorian was still alive, thank all the gods and goddesses, as well as every Immortal!
“And our other guest has awaken. Tell me Dorian, do you know where you are?”
“Somewhere below, in the menhir,” Dorian answered. In her position, Zofia couldn't quite see him, and maybe it was for the better. He sounded as though he'd been either beaten or tortured magically, or both.
“You are in the Temple of Apep, god of the Helsingas.”
“You're deranged,” Dorian scoffed. “What do you plan on doing, bringing him back out of the Realm of Darkness?”
“Yes.”
“Then you are more deranged than I'd thought. This is what you've been up to all this time? You really think it will work?” Dorian coughed at the end.
“I do, and it will,” Phineas boasted as he stepped toward an altar and gazed up at one of the statues of Apep.
“You couldn't have built this in the five years since I last saw you,” Dorian was incredulous.
“The ancient people who built this temple to him were from First World. In fact I managed to bring this whole palace here via the Teleport Machine that Saint Germain supplied us with so nicely,” Phineas explained.
“So the plan is?” Dorian hissed.
“They offered him virgins, and food, just as I will do, once I bring him back.”
“Wicked. So, what do you think happened to all those people who worshiped Apep and all the Helsingas? Think that maybe they ate them all?” Dorian sneered.
Zofia couldn't help but smile weakly at Dorian's insolence in the face of death. She tried to move her fingers, but they were now numb and felt like they'd swollen five times larger than normal. If she'd had a little more feeling in them, she would try to zap Phineas, but now, it would do no good. Not without feeling in her fingers. He'd certainly thought of everything.
“You were always quick-witted, and had a quip for everything, even when danger loomed, Dorian,” Phineas sneered, then chuckled dryly. “But that's all done. You will be the offering of food to Apep, and”—he turned back to Zofia— “Apep will enjoy copulating with your lovely wife, here.”
“What do you think you'll gain by all this, you delirious, pompous ass?” Dorian asked.
“Power, of course. More power than you, or any of you could have.”
“You have Power,” Dorian argued heatedly. “In case you've forgotten, you were born with power.”
Phineas laughed. “I mean true power. The power of the gods!” He shook his fist.
“And so you sacrifice a man and woman and poof you have power?” Dorian now laughed a little coughing laugh. “You are insane,” he went on. “In case any of you out there are listening in, do you know that Apep has an army of Helsingas, and they're going to be very hungry. They might just forgo roasting you all over the coals and just gobble you all down alive.” Dorian was attempting to appeal to the Ugwumps who w
ere in the room with them. He had a better view of them all at the moment than she had. Possibly it wasn't too late for the villagers to disband, and leave. Without them, Phineas would not be able to draw on the ley line powers. They would need a very large a circle of protection over them. Standing on top of the ley lines, the Ugwumps would be able to draw one without Phineas' or the other wizard's help. Their focus would be on bringing forth Apep from the Dark Realm. The circle would protect them all, at least for as long as they held the circle together. No one, no thing could cross the circle once it was up. It would kill them—or, in the case of a Helsinga, give them a heck of a zap.
Someone giggled from somewhere in the room. It was hollow.
Phineas didn't react to the chuckle, or the voice of reason. “I will enjoy watching the both of you suffer. The very thought of it makes me burn in a way you can't imagine.” He gleamed first at Dorian, and then down at Zofia. “Now, if there are any last words either of you wish to say to one another, do so, and be done with it. I so hate dawdling over mundane things.”
“Zofia, forgive me?” Dorian shouted at once.
“I forgive you everything,” Zofia spoke through trembling lips. “Your anger with me, leaving me at the castle without saying goodbye without resolving our problem.”
“I mean the part about being mad at you for—you know—Stephen, and the demon.”
“You're an ass,” she said almost smiling, as tears slid down her face.
“You're right, I'm an ass. I don't deserve your forgiveness.”
Zofia's eyes burst with tears. “No. We're both asses,” she managed to blubber. “And yes, you do deserve my forgiveness. You can't give it back.”
“Wonderful sentiments,” Phineas observed. “Now, let the fun begin.” He twirled about and stalked away, his black robes rippling in his wake. “Light the thurible!”
Zofia shifted in her bonds. Her eyes darted every way possible, but no matter which way she looked, they were filled with the giant effigies of Apep and his incredibly large phallus.
She turned her head to view Dorian the best she could.
Phineas said something in Tuscan. Cagliostro moved toward an area in the center of the seven effigies. From a long, glass tube he spilled out a thin line of powder. The powder was ocher in color, from what little she could see of it. She was certain this was Philosopher's Stone.
A fire rose nearby from the thurible.
Cagliostro finished making a circle that might have spanned a circumference of twenty feet, that came within a few feet of where she and Dorian were tied. She understood this was where Apep would emerge—somehow. The Philosopher's Stone had been the key, she remembered Saint Germain telling her this. They had needed enough to make a circle large enough for the monster to come through. This was going to be a pretty big Helsinga if it took up twenty feet of Real estate.
“We will begin,” Phineas said. “Everyone, in the circle, begin your chant.”
A chorus of voices began: “O Ouquallbab, O Kammarta, O Quantamal, O Karhemmon, O Amagaa!” They kept it up like that as a background for Phineas.
“Water and Earth, I charge thee in the name of Licifuge, Satanacha, Alagrep, Sargatanas, Nebiros.” Phineas' voice echoed eloquently against those of his followers.
Zofia was lost in her own feverish thoughts. How had they come to this end? Tears making a saline trail down the sides of her face, filling her ear canals, she had to shake her head in order to rid them of the ticklish shed tears. She wondered if Dorian had not been so angry her, could things have turned out differently? She wondered if Stephen had ever gotten the plead for help, yet. Why wasn't he here? He and his Knights should be here by now. Where was he? Where was Saint Germain? Surely he'd slipped past them, because Phineas didn't even mention him. If he had somehow stopped him, he would have wanted to brag about it, or even have him on the other side of the obelisk where Dorian was tied as a double tasty treat for Apep. But now, how would Saint Germain get past all these horrible people to save her?
The chanting became a little louder, a little more pronounced, filling the temple with the strange words.
“Apep, enemy of Ra, I conjure thee!” Phineas' voice rang out over the chanting. “O ruler of the Dark Realm, we pray thee to return to us by way of this unholy circle we cast!”
A flame flared up in the censer nearby. It was maddening that she couldn't see much, but just the same, perhaps she was better off not seeing any of what was going on. But they had her faced in just the right direction to see Apep when he appeared.
“Agency of Immeasurable Power!” Phineas cried.
“Ancient Dark One!”
“O Impenetrable One!”
“He of Darkness!”
“He of the most Unholy!”
“Bringer of Ruin and Despair!”
They went on and on, chanting in English and then fell into Latin and then something else she didn't recognize.
Something metallic struck a hard, solid object, like stone.
Zofia looked toward the sound. Cagliostro was stationed in the very center of the circle he'd made. At his side was Phineas wielding a sword. He struck the center of the circle again. Sparks flew.
“Arator! Lapidato! Omtator!…” the chanting went on, a little more quickly, more excited, as though they all knew that they were reaching a climax.
“In the name of Qualabaqua, I conjure thee!”
Rumbling began somewhere below. It came as a slight tremor, building gradually. Phineas and Cagliostro moved away from the circle (Zofia realized they were not inside the protection of the magical circle—which she couldn't understand. Were they crazy?—well, yeah, they were). Just as they moved, the floor cracked where they had stood. The rumbling graduated to shaking. Gaze rooted to the spot, Zofia could see at the very center of the cracks, something was pushing up through the stone.
“Stephen! Someone!” Zofia's pleas were swallowed up in the cacophony of voices, rumbling, cracking and splitting of the earth. Sweat popped out on her face, even though she shivered almost convulsively.
“Apep! Come forth!” Phineas cried. “Come and take the offerings we have given unto you!”
“Shambriru Ombriu, Ritiu, Iriu…”
Sword in one upraised hand, Phineas awaited for Apep to burst all the way through the hell mouth they were opening. The stone floor burst with more cracks radiating out from the bulge. Large sections of floor broke free, and out burst a greenish reptilian fist.
Filled with apprehension, Zofia turned her head the other way. She could see a portion of the Ugwump's protective circle. From their circle rose a golden curtain of light. The fiery essence which the coven had conjured now bound everyone inside it as it flowed up over their heads and created a dome of protection over them—and nothing outside would be able to reach them. A good thing, too. They were going to need it.
Heart hammering, Zofia noticed a subliminal movement just below her right breast. A white hilted knife floated up off the marble table. It moved up along Zofia's arm. It was difficult to keep from screaming. Her hope was that Biddle had somehow gotten free and was now wielding the knife. She sure as hell hoped it was Biddle, and not the bad Ghogal who had captured him.
“Biddle?” she said through gritted teeth. “'S that you?” she asked hopefully.
The knife continued on its unknown journey, moving toward her forearm, and then to her hand as she watched its trajectory. She felt the point against her skin at her wrist and pulled in a sharp breath as the point took aim. Holding her breath, she watched, trying to ignore the terrible sounds of something bursting through the stone just fifteen feet away.
The touch of steel was cold against her skin.
Another giant green fist smashed through the earth.
“Biddle, goddess, if it's you, say something!” Zofia sputtered hoarsely.
“Zofia,” the familiar voice came just loud enough for her ears to catch. Closing her eyes, she gasped with gratitude, lost in the haze of terror, and the cataclysm nearb
y.
“Franz?”
“Quiet, my heart,” he said. “I have come for you.”
“Franz! How—?”
“Hush, my love,” he said gently, the knife poised to cut the straps that held her left arm. “You must be patient,” he said, his whispered voice now in her ear. She realized he had somehow become invisible. The how, at the moment, wasn't the most important thing to her. “Once I have cut your bonds do not move away from them. They will appear as though they are still in place only if you remain motionless, until the right moment,” he instructed.
“But—”
“There are too many for myself to take on, even in my present condition,” he added.
Eying the knife, she watched as he sawed through the leather straps at her left wrist. Then watched as he moved the knife, well below the ledge of the dais, to her feet, and began working at the ankles. It was a struggle to hold her legs in place, mostly because she was shivering violently, now.
“Get Dorian down, please,” she whispered as he cut the ligature at her right wrist.
“Shh, my heart. When the moment presents itself, that too, I shall do,” he promised.
She lost sight of the knife. She whispered his name, but could sense he had moved off. Possibly trying to make his way around the circle of effigies, and then on to where Dorian was tied.
Stone floor shifted with an terrible crunch. Bits of stone rained over her body, and it was all she could do to lay perfectly still. A deep, voluminous, reptilian growl overrode all other sound.
Apep had come forth.
Chapter 41
Watching in frozen horror, Zofia saw a huge, mottled olive green, and brownish reptilian head punch through the disintegrating stone floor as though it were made of cork. The muzzle of the beast was as long as Zofia was tall—perhaps more. Long, sharp teeth situated in a jagged line along the terrible jaws. Once the head popped all the way through, its mandible gaped as wide as it could, exposing a mouth that could, in essence, swallow a man whole. Its roar shook the very pedestals which held up the stone roof. Red lizard eyes with black slits blinked as it took in the chamber and its contents—mainly a room full of terrified human beings, with the exception of Phineas, and the others who had conjured him—but they were insane, so it made sense they were unfazed.
