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Cards of Death Box Set

Page 47

by Tamara Geraeds


  After the sixth drop, he is fully out of sight and the raging of the flames around him subsides.

  Now I can hear the woman’s words clearly.

  “Acts of violence will be punished,

  in this circle night and day.

  Sinners will be trapped and guarded,

  for their errors they will pay.”

  She lowers her arms and turns slower. After a deep breath, she starts lifting her arms again, and her twists pick up pace. She moves without effort, her voice strong and unforgiving.

  “Build a circle full of souls.

  Close it tight and lock the holes.

  Keep out those that don’t belong.

  Punish those that have done wrong.”

  A new circle forms. It turns as quickly as she does. Howling rises from below and flames shoot up. But Isabel keeps going without hesitation.

  “Acts of fraud will be punished

  in this circle night and day.

  Sinners will be trapped and guarded,

  for their errors they will pay.”

  The sound of an angry roar confirms the eighth drop.

  Isabel slows down again. Sweat drips from her forehead. Her beautiful face has gone pale and her breathing is unsteady, but she is not finished yet.

  It suddenly hits me. Nine circles. That’s what Mrs. Delaney said. Nine circles of Hell. And this woman is creating them. She was right, they are real.

  Isabel brushes a stray lock of dark hair out of her eyes and repeats the spell.

  When another circle appears, I listen carefully to her words.

  “Acts of treachery will be punished

  in this circle night and day.

  Sinners will be trapped and guarded,

  for their errors they will pay.”

  The pieces start falling together. Treachery and fraud, the two sins I had to prevent, the ones the Cards of Death pointed to. The sinners were the ones I had to save. Mr. Timson, who wanted to betray his brother, and Myah, who almost committed fraud to save her parents.

  So the circles Mrs. Delaney spoke about are real, and they are connected to the people I have to save. They have something to do with the Devil’s plans.

  Isabel finishes her last spin and collapses on the ground. Tears spill out of her eyes when Lucifer’s voice is carried to her on the wind. “Please, my love, do not leave me.”

  She brushes the dust and the voice off, and her expression hardens. “I am no longer your love.”

  “Please, Isabel, please forgive me.”’

  Ignoring him, she dries her face, stands up and lifts her chin. A light ignites under her skin once more and she pushes it with her hands out of her body, and into the hovering circles above the hole.

  “Close this structure filled with evil.

  Transport back the king of Hell

  to his realm below the circles

  where he may forever dwell.

  Trapped he will be in his kingdom,

  pondering his evil ways.

  Till the goodness deep inside him

  reawakens, grows and stays.”

  The soft begging makes way for cursing and shouting, that grows louder as the Devil is lifted back up. He shows Isabel his beastly form and hits the invisible circle around him with his horns.

  “You will suffer for this!” he roars. “I will punish your precious humans. All of them!”

  She ignores him once more and focuses on the movements of her arms. A beautiful melody rises from her throat and wraps around Lucifer, who is immediately muted. Like a choir master of elves, Isabel weaves a fence of light around the structure of circles.

  The Devil has stopped thrashing around. His fiery eyes are locked onto the massive column that closes in on him with every note that Isabel hums. He shrinks back to his human form and tries to meet her eyes. He begs without sound.

  Without the slightest hitch, the circles detach themselves from each other. One by one they descent, the lowest pushing Lucifer back into the ground. Soon, the earth seals itself above the last circle.

  Isabel finishes her song and then drops onto her knees sobbing.

  The urge to comfort her overwhelms me, but before I can react to it, the world around me gets brighter, as if someone pulls the sun closer. I shield my eyes with my arm. A strong force pulls me backwards and I yell in surprise.

  Isabel gets smaller and smaller until she’s just a spec in the distance. Images in all kinds of colors appear on my left and right again and hundreds of different noises engulf me.

  Then I’m pushed back into my body.

  A strong hand steadies me when I almost tumble off the rock. “Easy.”

  I take off the rag and blink a couple of times. Slowly, Tartarus comes back into view.

  The Ferryman takes the piece of cloth from me. He wraps it around his staff and lowers it into the water, where it drifts out of sight quickly.

  After a satisfied nod, Charon turns back to me. “Well?”

  My hands are still placed firmly on the rock, in case I slide off. “Well, that was interesting.”

  He smiles. “I know.”

  “So why did I have to see this?”

  He pushes his staff into my chest. “Because, you have to remember that no matter how desperate things get, there is always hope. Just reach within yourself and trust your instincts.” He releases the pressure on my heart. “And never forget, the ones at your side are also chosen to be there. There is no such thing as coincidence.”

  I open my mouth to ask him more questions. Like who that woman was and what happened to her after she trapped the Devil below the circles of Hell. But Charon cuts me off before I can utter a single word. “That is all I can tell you. Your time here is up. I wish you the best.”

  He waves his staff and the mist changes into a giant mouth that swallows me whole.

  I tumble around in empty space. There’s no sound. I can’t see anything, except tiny specks that look like gray ash. I try to swat them away and turn in every direction. Which way is home?

  CHAPTER 8

  “He’s back!” someone yells.

  My feet touch solid ground and I feel around wildly for support.

  Cold hands are placed on my arms. “Dante? Are you okay?”

  The feeling of relief at the sound of Jeep’s voice is so strong that my shoulders shake as tears start falling from my eyes.

  “Calm down, keep breathing,” he says.

  I want to tell him I am breathing, but when I try to utter words, I realize I’m panting hard.

  “Sit down.” He pushes me gently onto a chair and folds my hand around a glass.

  When I lift it to take a sip, half of the water lands on my face and shirt.

  “What happened to him?” D’Maeo says in his stern voice. “Is he injured?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Movement by my side. “Can you open your eyes, Dante?” Jeep again.

  Whispering on my right tells me Maël and Taylar are watching, too.

  “Vicky!” I splutter, spitting out the swig I just took.

  I force my eyes open and squint against the bright light in Darkwood Manor’s kitchen. My Shield, minus one, is watching me intently. When I want to ask them about Vicky again, I can only cough. Gray ash comes out of my mouth and everyone backs up.

  “What happened?” Jeep asks when I can finally breathe again.

  “Shadow World,” I cough. “Tartarus.”

  Taylar fills my glass again and I gulp it down in two seconds.

  “Never mind,” I pant. “I can tell you about it later. Where’s Vicky? Did she come back?”

  All heads turn to D’Maeo, which worries me more than any concerned look could have. If they let their leader decide what to tell me, it can’t be anything good.

  To make it worse, he folds his hands. I swallow another cough.

  “She came back,” he says, “but something is wrong.”

  I push ba
ck my chair and stand up. The room spins around me and the tabletop rolls like a wave. I grab the back of my chair to steady myself. “Where is she?”

  D’Maeo scrutinizes me for a very long second. Then he nods and stands up. “I’ll show you.”

  When we reach the top of the stairs, I hear Vicky calling out. “Hello? Guys? What’s going on?”

  The rest of the Shield appears at her door. Jeep throws D’Maeo a confused look. “She sounds like herself.”

  The old ghost slowly approaches the door and pushes it open.

  “Finally!” Vicky exclaims. There’s a rattling sound. “Can someone explain why I’m tied up?”

  I gasp and stroll past the others into the room.

  Vicky is lying on her back on the bed. Her arms and legs are tied to the frame. The look on her face is one of confusion and anger, but her eyebrows drop back down as soon as she sees me. “Dante! You’re back!”

  After a quick smile at her, I inspect her chains. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine, except for these.” She lifts her arms. “You?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “What happened to you? I thought you’d go back with me automatically.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I fumble with the chains. “Can someone please give me a hand here?” I ask over my shoulder.

  The ghosts just stand there, in the doorway, staring at us without moving.

  I straighten up and put my hands on my hips.

  “What?” Vicky and I say in unison.

  Taylar tilts his head. A white lock of hair falls over his eyes. “She looks normal to me. Maybe it wasn’t permanent?”

  A feeling of unease washes over me. “What was?”

  D’Maeo finally steps inside. He kneels by the bed and lays his hands on the chain around her left wrist. One by one the rings light up.

  He moves his gaze to Vicky. “You don’t remember what happened?”

  “No, just that I traveled back here from the Shadow World and that Dante was left behind.”

  “You scared the hell out of us,” Jeep says. He rolls up his sleeves and shows us his arm. “The thought of it still gives me goosebumps.”

  My whole body goes cold when his words hit me. Jeep and goosebumps? I never would have thought such a thing was possible for such a tough guy who can raise the dead.

  “So what exactly did she do?” I ask, clenching my fists. Please don’t say it, please don’t say it.

  The last ring of the chain under D’Maeo’s hands lights up and it falls to the ground. He stands up and I move out of his way, so he can release Vicky of the other chain.

  “She was thrashing around,” he says, “screaming like an animal, growling even.”

  Vicky frowns and I try to suck in air.

  Even Maël pitches in. “For a moment, I thought she wanted to rip my throat out.”

  “She had just gone… wild,” Taylar adds. “As if she was-“

  “Possessed,” I finish for him, after a deep breath.

  “Exactly,” he and Jeep say at the same time.

  “But she’s not, because now she’s fine,” I continue.

  All eyes turn to Vicky, who smiles apologetically. “I am. I’m fine.” She looks at Maël. “I don’t want to rip out your throat, I promise.”

  The beautiful African queen smiles. “I know.”

  D’Maeo looks up from his work with the chain. “Perhaps some kind of power from the Shadow World came with you.”

  “I hope not,” Taylar mumbles, fumbling with his shirt while his eyes dart around the room.

  I chew on my lower lip. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

  When everyone turns their attention back to me, my throat tightens again. I’m afraid to say this out loud, but I’ll have to. “I’ve-“

  Suddenly, D’Maeo is thrown backwards with force. I freeze when Vicky sits upright, clawing at the cuff around her arm. She is cursing under her breath. The words are barely audible, but I can tell that they’re not English.

  After a minute of yanking on the chain, Vicky lifts her head and looks around. She growls at me and I take a step back instinctively.

  “Okay, take it easy.” I raise my hands. “Follow my voice, Vicky. I know you can hear me. Push it away.”

  “See, she’s gone mental!” Taylar shouts.

  Vicky immediately focuses on him. She bares her teeth and hisses. Taylar turns his head away. His eyes meet mine. “How can you say she’s not possessed?”

  “Because…” I swallow my nausea and try again. “Because I’ve seen this before.”

  D’Maeo steps up next to me. “Your mother?”

  “Yes.” My voice is strangled.

  I drop onto my knees next to the bed. “Please Vicky. Not you, too. Don’t let this happen again. You are strong enough to fight it.”

  She gurgles and spits blood in my face.

  Jeep rushes to her other side and wants to grab her arm to keep her down, but I raise my hand. “No, leave her. It will pass in a few minutes. Maybe sooner.”

  Vicky tries to sink her teeth into his arm and he fades away.

  “Are you sure?” he asks me from a few feet further back.

  I use my shirt to wipe the blood off my face. “Yes.”

  When I let go of my shirt, I realize there’s more than just blood on it. Tears have unwillingly started to flow.

  “Listen to me, Vicky. You have to fight this. You have to come back to us.”

  Her whole body is writhing, like a snake’s, meanwhile fading in and out of sight in an attempt to escape from the chain.

  “Don’t worry,” D’Maeo says. “These chains are designed to hold ghosts.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  Curses in a strange language come out of Vicky’s mouth. Her eyes flash red. A piercing scream almost rips my eardrums. Then she suddenly falls quiet.

  Jeep jumps back to her side and fastens the second chain around her left wrist.

  I sigh deeply. “I can’t believe this is happening.” My thoughts whirl around each other, digging up every memory of Mom and Vicky and comparing them. Charon’s words come back to me.

  “Maybe my mother went to the Shadow World, as well? Or my father did and he brought something back with him?” I turn to D’Maeo, who’s watching Vicky quietly. “If that is the case, can we vanquish it?”

  He rubs his beard. After an agonizing minute of quietness, he answers. “No, if something came back with you, more people would have been affected by it.”

  From behind me I hear Maël’s cape rustling as she steps closer. She lifts her staff and pushes it gently against Vicky’s chest. Only her cape moves as she stands perfectly still with closed eyes.

  After a minute or two she pulls back her staff and shakes her head. Her tiny black curls move back and forth. “I can find no evil in her heart. There is no entity within her.”

  Vicky opens her eyes and gives us a surprised look. “Hey…” Her voice falters when she notices the chains. “Why am I tied up?”

  D’Maeo gently touches her arm. “Because-”

  Vicky cuts him off. “No wait, I remember.” She squints at the ceiling. “I had no control over my body. It was hard to think. I wanted to ask for help, but strange words came out instead.” Her eyes meet mine. “You said you’ve seen this before. Was it the same with your mother?”

  I raise my hands in frustration. “Yes, but I don’t know why this is happening! Or even what it was!”

  “It’s not possession, I heard Maël say that.”

  I drop down onto the bed next to Vicky and rest my head in my hands. “It can’t be an illness, either, right? I mean…” I wave at her transparent body. “You’re dead.”

  “So it’s something that affects the living and the dead,” D’Maeo says, plucking his beard.

  Vicky’s hands rise and come back down on the bed hard.

  We all jump back again.

  �
��I know what it is,” she says.

  Blank looks answer her. Everyone is anxious to hear what she has to say, except for me.

  Please don’t say it. It can’t be true.

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head, as if she doesn’t want to believe what she’s thinking, either.

  “Well, what is it?” Jeep asks.

  She wets her lips slowly. “It’s a curse.”

  CHAPTER 9

  D’Maeo paces the room. “It makes sense.”

  “It does?” My head is still resting in my hands. It’s so heavy. “How?”

  “The violent, possession-like fits your mother used to have started out of the blue,” he says, still moving around. “And they ended just as suddenly.”

  “Yes, without reason.” I follow him with my gaze, trying to urge him on.

  “But was it really?” he asks, giving me a slight smile. “What happened soon after the fits stopped?”

  I shrug. “A lot happened. I discovered magic, I met you guys, I fought demons. So?”

  “Yes, but…” he points a finger at me, “what started all of that?”

  Finally it hits me. “Dad died.”

  Taylar steps forward with a confused look on his face. “I don’t get it. Your mother was cursed by your father?”

  Jeep hits him softly on the back of the head. “No, stupid. His father was cursed. The curse affected the one he loved.”

  Taylar’s eyes dart from the tattooed ghost to me and then to D’Maeo. “What does that have to do with V…” His mouth drops open. “Oooh.” He grins at me. “You love her!”

  Jeep hits him again, harder this time. “Obviously, dimwit.”

  I clasp a hand over my mouth. “This is my fault?”

  Vicky grasps my hand. “No, don’t think that way. You didn’t put a curse on me.”

  “No,” I say, gritting my teeth. “So the question is: who did?”

  Jeep rubs the tattoos in his neck. “That will be hard to find out.”

 

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