Dance of Flames

by Janni Nell

  After locking the car—no need out here, but force of habit when you’ve lived in big cities—I took my water to a patch of shade near the ruined chapel. I’d been awake all night and it wasn’t long before I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I promised myself I wouldn’t sleep. Fat chance.

  I snapped awake at the sound of my car alarm and scrambled to my feet. I dashed around the chapel. A large rock and a smattering of broken glass lay on the ground beside my car. Beltrana was already halfway inside, intent on finding the obsidian. I sprinted across the loose dirt, caught hold of her legs and hauled her out. As I spun her around, her hair whipped across her face. She tossed it back and met my eyes.

  Hers were a warm brown, but there was nothing warm about her voice. “I want the obsidian.”

  “What obsidian?” I said innocently.

  “Don’t play games with me.” Her English had suddenly—dare I say magically—improved. “I know you’ve taken it. Boris told me.”

  “Boris?”

  “My familiar—as if you didn’t know. Why did you have to hit him? That was just mean.”

  “Believe me, he gave as good as he got.”

  She looked at the puncture marks on my arm and smiled. “Good for him.”

  “So,” I said, “Boris is a pretty amazing bat. I didn’t realize familiars could actually talk.”

  “We communicate telepathically.” Somehow she stopped short of rolling her eyes. “He flashed me a mental picture of you taking the obsidian.” She jabbed a finger at the car. “It’s in there. I can feel it.”

  I was glad I’d locked the car. The keys felt nice and heavy in my pocket. Beltrana pricked up her ears when she heard them rattle. She moved quickly, reaching for my pocket, but I got there first. I held the keys out of her reach. One of the many advantages of being tall.

  She was smart enough not to jump for them. Changing tack, she said, “You’ve had the obsidian for a while now. Have you dreamed of torture?” She nodded to herself. “Everyone does when they’re exposed to Ignacio’s evil. Can’t you understand why I want to bury him deep in the earth where he can no longer hurt anyone?”

  She was so earnest, I took pity on her. “I do understand. It’s just I have a different plan for dealing with him.”

  She tensed. “You’re in league with the angels.”

  I didn’t deny it.

  “You know what would happen if they took him to the afterlife?” she cried frantically. “He’d be allowed to work off his crimes. As a guardian angel! Can you imagine? That piece of shit guarding some innocent…” She kicked the dirt, releasing pent-up frustration. “That is too good for him. He deserves to stay in his black prison. Cramped and hurting, remembering all the witches whose lives he took. We will never forgive him.” She grabbed my shoulders. “Please, in the name of all the tortured women, give me the obsidian. Let me give them justice.”

  I felt kind of sorry for her. She really did believe burying Ignacio’s prison was the right thing to do. And maybe it was. But my loyalties lay elsewhere.

  “I’m sorry, Beltrana,” I said. She froze at the sound of her real name. “I’m on the side of the angels.”

  She drew back her hand. A second before it connected with my cheek, I caught hold of her wrist, twisting it behind her back.

  So there we were under the hot Spanish sun inhaling dry dirt as we jockeyed for position. It was kind of a stalemate. I had nothing to tie her up with and, even though she had little muscle on her hourglass body, my arms would eventually tire of holding her.

  I didn’t really have a choice. She suffered the same fate as Boris but at least she didn’t drink my blood first. I was dragging her unconscious body into a patch of shade when Casper arrived. He raised an eyebrow.

  “Trust me. It was necessary to knock her out. Are the angels in place?”

  “They’re assembling as we speak.”

  “I’ll get the things from the trunk.” I put on the protective clothing. Leather pants with Kevlar inserts and a thick leather jacket. Hot as…in this weather.

  As I put on the gloves, he said, “Before you go in, I should warn you the place you’ll be entering is—”

  “—Ignacio’s torture chamber. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t go in until I got here.”

  “Oops. Busted.”

  “You shouldn’t have faced that alone.”

  “It’s okay. I’m a big girl.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re shaking.”

  “Guess I must be cold.”

  He was silent for a moment then, seeming to come to a decision. “I’ll stay with you when you smash Ignacio’s prison.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You have no protective clothing. And anyway you told me there is no clothing thick enough to protect an angel.” But the fact that he was prepared to put himself in mortal danger for me warmed me right down to my itching toe. Telling him to wait in the second chamber with the other angels, I grabbed the obsidian and my biker’s helmet and marched to the broken stairs.

  Chapter Six

  I put the obsidian on the stone slab, where I’d lain in my dream. The burn on my thigh began to throb. Memories of my nightmare poured through my mind. For a moment I imagined I was lying on the slab, vulnerable, trembling with fear and pain. I smelled hot iron and charred flesh. I heard the screams of his victims.

  Then my mind cleared and I was in reality again. Not a reality I particularly liked, since my hands shook so badly I had a hard time putting on my crash helmet. When the visor was in place, I took the cocktail umbrella from my pocket.

  To be honest I felt a bit silly holding a pink paper parasol in a chamber where so many horrors had occurred. Why hadn’t I chosen something more butch like a big hammer? Oh yeah, because it was too difficult to carry around in my pocket. Besides, Casper had guaranteed the umbrella would work and I believed him. I did, really.

  Okay, here goes. I raised the umbrella and gave the obsidian a little tap, hoping it would break neatly down the middle. When nothing happened, I was seriously glad no one had been around to see my embarrassment. Guess I needed to tap a bit harder.

  “Stop.” Beltrana appeared, panting, hair flying around her flushed face. When she caught sight of my cocktail umbrella, she started to laugh, a bit hysterically, but a laugh nevertheless. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Actually I’m quite serious. You can stay here if you want, but don’t blame me if you get hurt.”

  “Oh pul-ease. A cocktail umbrella can’t break rock.”

  “Not even one containing the song of angels?”

  She blanched. “You can’t do this. It’s wrong.” She took a step toward me. “Don’t release his soul. I’m begging you.”

  “I’m with the angels on this one.”

  “No, don’t,” she said, as I raised the umbrella.

  I hesitated long enough to say, “This is my last warning. Get out or get hurt.” I hoped she’d take my advice, but deep down I knew she wouldn’t.

  She rushed at me, snatching at the umbrella. I pushed her aside and hit the obsidian with a papery slap that sounded oh so wimpy. Even I was surprised by what happened next.

  The black rock shuddered. Then, as though it had been hit with a sledgehammer, it burst apart, each small fragment like a miniature scalpel. I dived for Beltrana, covering her as we hit the floor. The shards ricocheted around us. Some of them pierced my protective gear. Beltrana yelped as they found her bare skin.

  When they stopped ricocheting, I got to my feet. I’d expected Ignacio’s soul to look ethereal, like a ghost, but a ball of black mist sat on the slab where the obsidian had been. As I watched, it stretched and re-formed, pulling itself into the silhouette of a thin man. He hovered over the table before dissolving into thin streams of darkness.
I thought he’d try to possess me, but he headed for Beltrana. She was struggling to her feet, head bent as she tried to pull a shard from her shoulder.

  “Run,” I yelled, putting myself between her and the mist. Her head jerked up. She staggered backward. The mist dodged around me, closing in on Beltrana, swirling around until I could barely see her through the darkness. It pressed in on her, seeping into her pores. She shuddered as her skin absorbed the inky blackness. Then she raised her eyes. They were no longer a pretty brown but dark and cold as Ignacio’s.

  I hadn’t seen a genuine case of possession in a long time, and I didn’t much want to see one now. Beltrana/Ignacio pulled the shard from her shoulder. It must’ve hurt, but she showed no sign of pain as blood soaked the front of her shirt. She looked at the sharp piece of rock in her hand—maybe four inches long and an inch wide—then she looked at me. I’d seen that expression before when Ignacio pressed the hot iron into my thigh.

  He tried to walk Beltrana’s body toward me, but she fought him, shaking her hand as though trying to force him to drop the shard, but no matter how hard she shook, her fingers refused to open. Blood appeared on her hand. Then she was moving toward me again, all jerky movements like a badly constructed puppet. Her arm stretched in front of her as she grasped the obsidian scalpel.

  I could have escaped by sprinting from the chamber, but that wouldn’t bring Ignacio to the angels. I held my ground. Ignacio being inside her body might work in my favor. It would be easier to grab hold of her than a black mist. I was trying to figure out the best way to disarm her when I heard Casper’s voice. It came from the passage that led to the second chamber.

  “Allegra.” His voice sounded very weak.

  “Get out of here,” I yelled, keeping my eyes on Ignacio. “He’s possessed her.”

  “The angels are waiting,” Casper said. “Do you need help?”

  Gee, I could certainly use it. I glanced in Casper’s direction. He was already fading. The stone walls were visible through his body.

  With his last strength, he yelled, “Look out.”

  I had no time to turn before Ignacio punched my back. I gasped, whirled around, aware that he still had the shard. Except that he didn’t. His hands were empty. Wetness pooled beneath my leather jacket. I felt behind my back. I’d been stabbed, not punched, and the rock was still embedded in my back. Every movement was agony.

  Ignacio/Beltrana scooped up another shard and came at me again. Survival instinct kicked in and the pain in my back disappeared as I picked up my own piece of rock. My thick glove protected my hand. I lunged and slashed, opening a cut on Beltrana’s arm. I could kill her. I knew that as surely as I knew my name, but murdering Beltrana was not in my current job description. It might save my life, but it wouldn’t deliver Ignacio to the angels. I threw down my weapon. The possessed woman’s mouth split in a sadistic grin.

  Casper appeared again, transparent and weak. “Allegra. Make him follow you.”

  Yes, yes, that’s what I have to do. I was having trouble thinking straight. The loss of blood from my back wound was making me light-headed.

  Before I knew it, Ignacio/Beltrana had backed me into a corner near the stairs. Somehow I had to make my way across the chamber and into the passage where I’d last seen Casper. Beltrana’s movements were losing their jerkiness. Ignacio was gaining more control over her body.

  “Beltrana!” I had to call her three times before she turned toward me. Her eyes were still mostly black but I thought I saw a hint of warm brown.

  “This isn’t what you wanted,” I said, struggling to reach her through the dark mist of Ignacio. He/she slashed at me. “You know Ignacio’s soul mustn’t be allowed to roam the earth. He’s out of his prison now. The safest place for him is in the afterlife. Help me send him there.”

  Her eyelids flickered. She shuddered all over, then her fingers relaxed and the shard fell to the ground.

  “Come on,” I yelled, sprinting across the chamber, expecting her to follow. I’d almost reached the passage that led to the angels’ chamber when arms wrapped around my ankles and sent me sprawling.

  Ignacio was back with a vengeance. He flipped me onto my back, driving the shard agonizingly deep. He straddled me and threw a punch. I blocked it, swinging my fist at his jaw. But it was Beltrana’s soft skin that bore the force of my knuckles. She yelped but didn’t lose consciousness. I tried to buck her off. Pulled her hair. Hit her butt with my knee. Punched her again.

  His/her bloody hands snaked beneath my guard and wrapped around my neck. I got my thumbs to her eyes and began to gouge. Her eyes. Not Ignacio’s. I couldn’t do it. I tried to break his hold on my throat but it was no use. This was the moment Casper would usually arrive to rescue me, but I knew he wasn’t strong enough to help.

  Wrong again.

  He caught hold of Ignacio/Beltrana and hauled him off me. Casper’s hands shook like leaves in a high wind, but he didn’t let go. I scrambled to my feet. Ignacio’s evil had weakened Casper so much he had thinned to a wraith, but there was a converse reaction I hadn’t anticipated. Casper’s goodness also weakened Ignacio. The monk’s grip on Beltrana’s body loosened. He was still there inside her, but she had the upper hand.

  “Go to the angels,” Casper said.

  “But…” I took a step toward him. Suddenly he looked every one of his two-thousand-plus years. Trembly and very frail.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Go. Go.”

  Beltrana said, “Help me.” When she held out her hand, I took it. Her skin was hot and clammy as though she was running a high fever.

  “This way,” I said, dragging her toward the passage that led to the angels. For a while she moved freely, then her steps slowed as Ignacio regained control.

  The dark walls of the passage closed around us. Taking me by surprise, Ignacio spun me around and threw me against a wall. I crashed into the stone. The shard in my back pierced more layers of flesh. I gasped in pain, watching helplessly as Ignacio/Beltrana bolted down the passage toward the torture chamber. Summoning all my strength, I launched off the wall and sprinted after him. I dived for his ankles, bringing him crashing down. Beltrana’s body hit the ground hard, winding her. Hurting me. I hauled her upright.

  “Fight him, Beltrana. Follow me to the angels,” I urged, but she no longer had the strength. I thrust my arm under her shoulders, half carrying her along the passage. Up ahead, the light of the angels pushed aside the darkness. As we stumbled on, the light grew stronger until it was star-bright.

  Suddenly Beltrana balked, digging in her heels. Ignacio was in power again, but this time he was no match for me. The light gave me strength. As the angels held out their arms, I dragged him forward. He screamed like all those women who had suffered at his hands. I thought I could hear them cheering me on, crying out for justice.

  He twisted and tried to shield his eyes, but I held on, shoving him into the circle of angels. Their light moved into Beltrana’s body, forcing out the black sludge of Ignacio’s soul.

  As Beltrana slid to the floor, the black sludge took human shape above her. Ignacio trembled as the angels closed around him. Their circle got smaller and smaller until Ignacio disappeared amongst their shifting, shimmery bodies. Then they were gone too, and the white light was replaced by darkness.

  I heard Beltrana whimpering. Dropping to my knees—not so hard when you were suffering from a stab wound and loss of blood—I crawled across the cold stone until I felt her ankle.

  “I’ll get you out of here,” I said. “Take hold of my hand.” We had a couple of false starts before we finally got to our feet. Then we were good to go. I stretched out my hand, feeling my way along the walls until I saw pale light ahead. It actually felt good to reach the torture chamber.

  I scanned the place for Casper. When I didn’t see him, I called his name. Again and again. Even I was surpri
sed by the grief in my voice.

  “He’s not here,” Beltrana said, but her voice was kind. He’d been badly injured when he’d touched Ignacio. Maybe he’d even died. “We have to get you to the hospital,” she went on. “You’re still bleeding.”

  She squeezed my hand and we left the chamber, climbing the cracked stairs into the summer sunshine.

  Chapter Seven

  Of course I couldn’t go to the hospital. There would’ve been too many difficult questions to answer. The police would’ve been called. Once again I threw myself on the mercy of Nigel Noffrends. I even told him the truth about what had happened. I’m not sure whether he believed me but he treated our injuries. As he dug the shard out of my back under local anesthetic, he told me I was lucky it hadn’t hit anything important. Guess my delicate skin didn’t count as important.

  Despite all we’d been through, Beltrana and I didn’t become best buds. She was still pissed off that I’d sided with the angels. She believed I’d given Ignacio what she called the easy option of becoming a guardian angel. Of course, she’d got that totally wrong. Being a guardian angel wasn’t easy. Just ask Casper.

  By the way, he didn’t magically reappear. For several days I wished one of the other angels would visit and tell me whether he’d survived, but no one came.

  When I got a call from Felipe to invite me to the promised flamenco lesson, I almost declined. Then I figured I wouldn’t feel any worse and maybe I’d feel a little better.

  Felipe insisted I wear one of those classic flamenco outfits. He taught me how to swish my skirt while I stamped my feet. I got out a lot of pent-up aggression that way. Maybe a bit too much because I noticed him wincing more than once. I loved dancing, but my sense of rhythm wasn’t great. Anyway I had fun, but I didn’t forget about Casper. With every step, every flamboyant swirl of my skirt, I wished he was with me. He was a good dancer and I could’ve used his encouragement. Not to say Felipe wasn’t encouraging, but he couldn’t quite hide his dismay at my lack of finesse.