"I think we'll have fun with this," he said. "Much more fun than we'd have with your potion."
I started to cast a binding spell. The moment the first words left my mouth, his eyes widened, with confusion, then fury. I saw my mistake, and tried to rush through the incantation. His fist slammed into my cheek. Bone crackled and a tooth pinged into my throat. I wheezed a cough and the tooth flew out on a string of spittle. I started to cast again, but Dachev slammed his hand down on my throat.
"A witch?" he snarled, bringing his face to mine. "So that is what I recognized. You didn't care to enlighten me. You didn't dare, did you?"
Again, I tried to push him off, but he had me perfectly pinned, so I couldn't do more than glance awkward blows off his back.
"Do you think I don't know how to hold you, witch?" he said. "At my trial, some thought I used a sedative on my victims. Others believed I knocked them unconscious. But I didn't. What is the pleasure in cutting an unfeeling carcass?"
I narrowed my eyes, hoping to summon some bit of my Aspicio powers and blind him.
"Don't give me that look, witch," he said with a chuckle. "I don't shock you. I can see it in your eyes. You remind me of her, you know. My Nix."
He lifted the knife. "That's not to say I'll spare you. After all, she did betray me. I forgive her. But that doesn't keep me from imagining how I'd like to betray her. Love and hate. The same impulse, the same passion."
I flicked my fingers in a knock-back spell, managing to gasp the single word needed to cast the sorcerer spell. Nothing happened.
"Useless without your spells, aren't you, witch?" He smiled. "Well, without your spells and your kicks and your punches. You do know how to fight. None of my other victims did. Quite disappointing."
I started to narrow my eyes again, to retry blinding him, then stopped myself. Give it up and stick with what will work. I had to choose carefully, though. The more powerful the spell, the more spell-power it required. If I cast something big and it didn't incapacitate him, I'd be screwed--unable to cast anything stronger than a cover spell. I emptied my brain and began the mental preparation for a high-level witch spell.
Dachev continued, "I think I will let you fight. But first, I should let you know what fate you are fighting. We'll start with a sampling. Nothing too disabling. Not an arm or a leg. Perhaps a finger or two? No. That might still impede you, and give me unfair advantage. Let's say an ear. Or perhaps the nose. Yes, that's it. I'll cut off your ear or split open your nose." He leaned into my face, lips pulling back from his teeth as he smiled. "Your choice."
I feigned struggling, to buy more time to prep the spell. Dachev pinned me easily.
"Enough of that," he said. "If you don't choose, and choose quickly, I'll do both."
I mouthed something.
He frowned. "What was that?"
Again, I opened my mouth, as if struggling to speak, but only a choked gasp came out.
He eased back on my throat. Mouth slightly open, I whispered a few words of the incantation, but knew I didn't have enough time to finish.
"Ear," I said. "Take my ear."
I managed to get out another line before his arm clamped down on my throat again. I closed my eyes as the knife went to my ear. The blade sliced into the tender skin between my earlobe and my face, and began cutting up, through the soft lobe. When he hit cartilage, he shifted forward for a better cutting angle. As he did, the pressure lessened on my throat, and I managed to whisper the last line of the incantation.
Dachev screamed, an eardrum-piercing wail. I shot out from under him and leapt up. He stayed on the floor, doubled up, screaming as if his guts were on fire. Which they were. I'd used a fireball spell, conjuring the same simple, nearly useless fireball that Paige used. With one important difference. This fireball was conjured in the belly of the target, producing a few moments of blistering agony, followed by a quick death. Unless you were already dead, that is.
Dachev rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach. I walked over to him, bent down, and snatched the knife from his hand.
"If you can hear me, it'll be over in a minute," I said. "The fire, that is. The burning, well, that'll take a while to heal." I leaned over him and smiled down. "In the meantime, you'll need plenty of bed rest. I think I can help with that."
I knelt behind Dachev. I grabbed his leg with one hand, the knife in the other, preparing to cut his ham-strings. If I was stuck here until someone rescued me, I damned well wasn't giving Dachev any chance of pay-back. As he writhed and screamed, in too much pain to try to escape--or even know what I was doing--I cut away his pant leg.
"What did it do to him?" asked a voice behind me.
The club-man stood in the doorway, weapon in hand. He stared at Dachev, baby-smooth brow wrinkling. His gaze turned to me, and he smiled, showing off an orthodontist's wet dream worth of crooked teeth.
"I thought it was gone," he said as he stepped into the room, club thumping against his leg.
"Maybe it stayed to play." The knife-man walked in, a homemade blade in each hand. "Does it want to play some more?"
Still gripping the knife, I leapt to my feet.
"Do you see how I play?" I said, waving at Dachev, who was still moaning and writhing. "I don't think I'm the kind of playmate you're looking for. But if you both leave now, I'll forget I saw you and--"
The club-man rushed me. I cast a binding spell, but my powers were too weakened, and it only trapped him for a split second before he broke free. Right behind him came the knife-man, the werewolf, and a redhead I hadn't seen earlier. Another shadow slid in through the door, but I didn't stay to see who it was.
I wheeled, ran, and smashed headfirst through the window. Quite the dramatic exit...though I'd rather not have been exiting at all. As much as I hated running away, I'd had enough practice rounds with these guys earlier to know I couldn't stave them off for long in a fight, not without any spell-power. Better to get my ass back in those woods until I figured out how I was getting it back to my dimension.
As I tore around to the back of the house, running footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. Knife-guy was already out. He swung back his arm...and I ran smack into a giant air-bag.
As I stumbled back, I caught sight of my air-bag obstacle--a man with three chins and a gut that could house a full-term pregnancy.
"Going somewhere?" he rumbled.
A blade sank into my shoulder blade. I twisted and kicked the knife-man off my back. The big guy grabbed me by the shoulders. I wriggled out of his grasp, and danced away...only to find myself surrounded. Even the bird-man had now joined the group, vines still dangling from his wrists, flat gray eyes simmering with fury.
"Six against one?" I said. "Now, that's hardly fair. Tell you what, you guys pick a champion, and the rest of you just sit back--"
Bird-man, the werewolf, and the big guy all ran at me. I whirled out of the way, but the others closed in to block my escape routes. I looked around, found the clearest spot, then dove for it, casting a cover spell as I flew.
When I hit the ground, I vanished. Again, everyone stopped to stare in momentary confusion. Before they could recover, I sprang to my feet and ran for the forest.
44
WHEN I STARTED RUNNING, THE MEN WERE RIGHT BEHIND me, but soon they began to drop back, unable to keep up the pace. I kept waiting--hoping--for the footfalls to peter out, but I should have known they wouldn't. These guys hadn't seen a victim in decades, even centuries; they sure as hell weren't going to give up the moment their first one took off.
I couldn't take them all on. Trsiel had said the Fates would send someone after me if I didn't return. The only thing I hated worse than running away was hanging around waiting to be rescued, but this wasn't the time for a show of independence. The smart thing to do was hide and wait. Stung like hell, but the alternative would hurt a lot worse. Stand and fight, and there might not be enough of me left to rescue. It was my fault I needed rescue in the first place. Suckered by a magician's
pick-pocket trick. I could say it was an all-time personal low, but I'd be lying.
As I ran deeper into the forest, the night took over, enveloping me in black. I tried my light-ball spell again. This time it took hold--dim but steady. Dim was good, though. At full strength, it would have been like running with an Olympic torch, an obvious target for my pursuers. My night vision would have been even better, but I didn't even hope for that to kick in.
When I hit the fork in the path, I veered down the right-hand branch, heading deeper into the woods. After a few minutes, I caught a glimpse of a clearing to my right. Instinctively I focused my long-range vision. Of course, that failed. Without slowing, I swung my light-ball in that direction. Through the trees, I could make out the dim shapes of houses. Shit! More villages? Why not. Maybe that's what this dimension was, not a single smattering of houses, but a whole world of villages, each with its own mob of killers.
I hit a thin patch of woods where someone had cut down a handful of trees, clearing an unintentional window to the village beyond. I'd seen this same open patch before, this same pattern of cut trunks. As I raced past the clearing and looked through to the village, I knew what I'd see. The stone houses I'd just left.
It was the same village. The seemingly endless forest was an illusion. Walk north from the village, and you'd find yourself at the south end. That was why Dachev headed back the way he'd come when he thought I'd kept running down the path earlier--so he could head me off when I unintentionally looped back around. The moment I thought this, I saw a shape moving through the trees ahead. I glanced over my shoulder. More shapes running that way.
I dove into the forest on the left. Even as I crashed through the bushes, hearing nothing behind me, I knew I wouldn't get far. Not only had I lost the advantage of speed, but I was cutting their path for them. Any minute now, they'd be close enough to see.
I stopped running, dowsed my light-ball, slipped off to the left, and cast a cover spell. A moment later, the forest erupted in crashes and curses, as they stumbled through the dark looking for me. Should I stay here, covered, until the cavalry rode in? I was relatively safe, but would my rescue team know where to find me? I had to trust that they would...or that I'd hear them. So long as I was hidden here, with the killers fumbling in the dark--
A light flickered to my right. As I strained my eyes in that direction, I saw orange flame bouncing through the darkness, approaching from the west. A torch. Someone had gone back to the village for a torch. Within moments, all of them carried a lit tree branch, swinging it about and peering into the darkness.
"She's using magic," Dachev called. "She can make herself invisible, but she cannot move. If you bump into her, she will reappear."
A few grunts of satisfaction.
"There are two ways we can do this," Dachev continued, voice ringing over the shuffle of footsteps and the spit of the torches. "Competition or cooperation."
"I help no one," club-man's voice rumbled. "I find it, it is mine."
"Then you do that. Those who want to help me find her, come here and we'll split up, do this systematically."
"And then you will take her," someone said.
A chorus of agreement.
"No, then I will let you have her. All who help me will get a turn. And when you are done, she is mine. If that sounds fair to you, come over here. The rest, search on your own."
Several shapes moved toward Dachev, while others headed farther off, beginning to hunt. I waited until the lights dimmed, then began to creep away. There was no sense continuing west. If Dachev had come that way with the torch, that meant that he'd come from the village. This world was spherical. Keep walking in any direction and you'd end up back where you started. The deepest part of the woods, then, would be that strip to the north and south. That's where I headed.
I moved as fast as I dared. Once I was far enough, I'd find a tree and try that trick again. At least that would make it impossible for one of the searchers to stumble into me and snap my cover spell. But what if they bumped the tree? Would that vibration be enough to break my cover?
I should stop and fight. Lure them away, one by one, and disable them. Sure, great plan...provided I could outwit and outfight every last one of these bastards, with my spell-casting still drained from the fireball spell. Don't be stupid. Just find a tree and hide. But what if the bird-man had seen me jump from that tree, and told Dachev my trick?
In the midst of this internal debate, a hillock appeared in my path and, only a few yards to my right, a boulder blocked a blob of darkness deeper than that of the hillside. Some kind of hole. I walked over and peered in the narrow slit above the boulder. Beyond it, the darkness stretched as far as my light-ball illuminated. Not a hole, but a cave. Oho. Now, that's what I needed.
I moved to the side of the boulder and pushed. My pierced hand flared again. I grabbed a handful of leaves from the nearest tree and, using them for padding, put my hands back on the boulder, dug in my feet, and heaved. The rock didn't budge. Okay, not so perfect. Or was it? If I couldn't move the rock, they'd never think to look behind it. With proper leverage and a telekinesis spell, I should be able to shift it aside enough to squeeze through.
I found a thick branch and used it to pry the rock as I pushed and cast a telekinesis spell. The spell was intended to displace small objects, but many witches used it as an added muscle boost for moving heavy objects, like pushing out the fridge to clean behind it. Practical magic.
With the spell, my pry-bar branch, and a hefty dose of push power, I managed to move the rock about a foot, giving me an eighteen-inch gap to squeeze through. Problem was, the rock had been there so long, it had sunk into the ground, so I was prying it up from a hole. The moment I let go, it would roll back into place--and block the entrance again. I could try pushing it right out of the depression, but that meant going inside and leaving the door wide-open. First guy who walked by and saw the cave opening would know exactly where I was hiding.
So I squeezed through, yanked the branch in with me, and let the boulder tumble into place. Then I recast my light-ball spell and looked around.
The tunnel extended as far as I could see, the floor angling downward, like the entrance to a subterranean passageway--like the one that had linked the two castles. Had someone dug this one, too? Maybe that would explain the rock, put there by the Fates to keep the inmates of this dimension in the village where they belonged.
I looked from the entrance into the cave depths. The deeper I went, the safer I'd be, so no one passing by would see the glow of my light-ball. If I didn't have to cower under a cover spell, I wasn't about to. Better to find a place, hunker down, and take stock of my injuries. Pushing that rock had set my punctured hand and shoulder ablaze. Then there was my ear. I could feel the half-severed lobe tickling my neck as I moved, but hadn't yet reached up to assess the damage, not really sure I wanted to know how close it was to falling off.
If I could stop, I could tear strips from my shirt and bind that ear and my hand. Nothing was bleeding--one advantage to being a ghost--but I'd be able to use my hand better if the wound was covered and cushioned. As for the ear, while losing a lobe would solve the problem of misplacing half a pair of earrings, I'd really rather keep it intact and hope the Fates could stitch it back up.
About twenty feet down the tunnel, what looked like a room branched off the right side. The main passage continued back as far as I could see. Was there an exit under the village? A chill ran through me, but I dowsed it with common sense. First, the village was at least a quarter-mile away. Second, even if the tunnel did extend that far, it wasn't being used--that entrance boulder had been in place long enough to grow moss. Still, best to play it safe and duck into this room, rather than continue on.
As I walked into the room, the floor dipped and my light-ball dimmed. Great. It must be a subterranean effect of the anti-magic barrier on this place. I hoped I wasn't going to lose the light altogether, like I had in Dachev's crawl space. I really didn't relish sitt
ing in the dark for hours.
I took another step and kicked something--softer than a rock, but solid enough to nearly trip me. I glanced down to see a long pale cylinder. A tree branch. I went to step over it, then stopped. There was something covering the branch, and it didn't look like bark.
I swung my light-ball over and saw an arm lying in front of my foot. A human arm, still encased in a sleeve. I hunkered down for a better look. The arm had been ripped from its socket. Not that I've seen a lot of that sort of thing, but the torn and jagged flesh around the uncut bone certainly looked more like a rip than a saw job.
I hadn't noticed any of the men in the village missing an arm, but I hadn't taken a good look at a couple of them. Wouldn't surprise me if one of them had done this to a fellow villager. Put a group of killers together and eventually someone's going to start losing body parts. It kind of surprised me that they hadn't done worse.
I started to straighten, then stopped. A half-dozen paces away lay a jean-clad leg. Okay, now that I would have noticed. They looked about the same size, probably from the same person. Maybe they weren't real. They certainly didn't look real. The torn flesh was clean and bloodless, like a movie prop before someone splashes on the fake gore. I bent to touch the hand. Cold, but definitely flesh.
As I took a step toward the leg, I let out an oath. A second leg lay behind the first, and, a few feet away, the other arm. Okay, now I was creeped out. What the hell had happened down here? I was better off not knowing, not thinking about it. And if I stayed in this room, that was exactly what I would do. Time to find a new hiding place.
Turning to leave, my gaze swept the left side of the room. A bowling-ball-shaped rock rested by the wall. Yeah, a rock, that's it. Bullshit. I knew exactly what it was. And I knew what had happened here. They'd done this--the villagers--turned on one of their own and ripped him apart. Then they hid the body in here, and sealed it up, hoping the Fates wouldn't notice.
With a shiver, I turned away. As I did, I heard a faint clacking. It came from the direction of the head. I turned, more instinct than intent, swinging the light-ball that way. The head of a dark-haired man lay there, blue eyes staring at me, blank and unseeing. Then he blinked.
Haunted Page 32
