Blood of the Sorceress (22 page)

“No, no, no,” Bahru cooed. “It’s all right, little one. It’s all right.” He gathered her close and jounced her gently. She stilled again, and he realized she’d fallen asleep. Good. The more of this nightmare she could sleep through, the better. He laid her on the cot again, tucking a blanket securely around her, and then relaxed on the floor, his back against the cot, turning his attention to the room beyond the bars of his cell. The barred door must have been someone’s notion of keeping what might be a crucial supply of food safe from anyone who might try to take more than his share.

He was glad society’s notion that such places as this were necessary had fallen out of fashion. The world had gotten better.

Meanwhile, though, there was magic afoot in this bomb shelter. Dark magic.

The man in the purple robes stood in the center of the room, arms extended, chin up, chanting in some foreign language that Bahru had never heard before. It sounded not just old but ancient. His voice grew, echoed, took on a resonance that was unnatural. Otherworldly. And his eyes rolled back in his head as a dark column that looked like smoke, but wasn’t, began to spiral around him.

“Come to me,” he said, speaking in English now. “Come to me, all of you whose minds I can and do command. Come to me, as many as are close enough to hear my call. In black shall you dress. And your faces shall be covered, the better to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies. Come to me, and I will give you everything you have ever desired. I shall smite your enemies with vengeance, and shower you in riches and glory. Come to me. Come to me, my minions. Come.”

Then he dropped to the floor, just as if his legs had turned to water, and at that same instant the black smoky ribbon shot upward, hit the ceiling and vanished as if it had gone straight through.

An hour later they started arriving, a few at a time.

They were all dressed in black, some in jeans, some in sweatpants, some in dress pants, others in monks’ robes. And their faces were covered. Ski masks. Halloween masks. Surgical masks. They gathered around the old priest and said nothing, clearly waiting for his command.

The sense of evil was overwhelming as the one who’d taken them, a man whose body was becoming more grotesquely swollen by the minute, moved among them. He welcomed them, patted their shoulders and backs, spoke softly to them, probably reiterating the promises he would surely never keep.

Eventually he moved to stand on a slightly raised platform between the two pillars on the far end of the room.

“Welcome, new followers of Marduk,” he said. “I am the one who called you here, the one who will reward you so richly for your loyalty to me and to the chief god of all Gods. I am the high priest Sindar.”

Sindar!

Bahru felt his heart begin to pound in alarm. Sindar was the name of the high priest who’d murdered Magdalena, Indira and Lilia so long ago. But how could that be?

“I have a plan, my friends,” Sindar continued. “Tomorrow we will spill the blood of the most powerful witch of a witches’ triune, for her heart holds a piece of her demon lover’s soul and her blood holds power untold. We will not kill her until the moment of Beltane, so that when she dies the piece of the demon’s soul she holds will die with her. And then he will cease to exist, her sisters will die, and their progeny will die. At last this curse will end, and my King, Balthazorus, will at last be avenged.”

No. Bahru looked at the sleeping infant and thought of her mother, and his heart clenched tight in his chest. He closed his eyes, sinking into a meditative state while keeping an ear attuned to Ellie. And he whispered, “Magdalena, if you can hear me, listen well. There is evil afoot. You must not allow Lilia to come here.”

* * *

“It’s no use.” Lilia dropped the dangling amethyst pendulum onto the map and tipped her head back in frustration. “Sindar must be blocking us somehow. His magic is just too strong.”

“No, it’s not too strong, not for us,” Indy said.

Magdalena said nothing. Her eyes were vacant, her soul bleeding. Her body still moved, but it was acting on autopilot, Lilia thought. “He’ll contact us,” she promised her sister. “He took the baby for a reason. To force us to do what he wants. He’s going to have to tell us what that is, sooner or later.”

Indy nodded. “I agree.”

Magdalena looked around, blinking her swollen eyes. “Where are the men?”

“Upstairs in the temple room,” Indy said. “Tomas is trying to translate a journal written in Akkadian.”

“Journal?” Lena looked from one sister to the other.

“We found it in Sindar’s room before he set the house on fire,” Lilia said.

“It belonged to Father Dom,” Indy said. “He’d been studying our history for years, so I suspect it’s some warped version of our past.”

“Sindar. That bastard. He killed my baby then, and now he has her again.”

All eyes shot to Magdalena.

“I was pregnant then, too,” she told them. “Don’t you remember? When he had us thrown from that cliff, he killed my child with me. And now he has her again. My Ellie...” Turning, she ran out the front door, nearly knocking over a chair in the process.

“Let’s leave her alone for a moment,” Lilia said, when Indy moved as if to go after her. “Let her cry in private. Why don’t we go upstairs and see how Tomas is coming with that old journal and give her a little time to process all this?”

“He’s not going to win this time. Dammit, he’s not,” Indira said. Then she shot Lilia a searching look. “Is he?”

“No,” she said, simply and confidently. “No, he’s not going to win.” Not even, she thought in silence, if it cost her everything. Her second chance. Demetrius’s. Everything.

* * *

Demetrius leaned over the journal, side by side with Tomas, managing to translate a symbol here and there as his memories of his ancient past life became steadily more and more vivid.

Tomas read what they had so far. “‘And if the demon refuses his final soul-piece by the High Holy Day that marks the halfway point of the Sun God to His power, then shall he die, and then shall the time of the witches expire. But they deserve far worse than death and renewal. They deserve far worse than crossing the Veil to bliss and returning again as all human souls must.’”

“Wait, wait,” Demetrius said. “If I don’t accept the rest of my soul, I die?” He looked up from the journal to meet Tomas’s eyes. “Why the hell didn’t Lilia tell me that?”

Tomas looked at him steadily. “She wasn’t allowed. You’re supposed to decide based on wanting to live rather than not wanting to die.”

“It makes little difference,” Demetrius said, lowering his head. “I can’t accept it now.”

“Demetrius, maybe you’re not seeing the point here,” Ryan said.

“You’re not seeing the point. If I accept my soul, I will lose my powers. If I lose my powers, how am I going to fight Sindar and get your daughter back?”

“So that’s why he took her.” Lilia’s voice came from the doorway, and she was clearly stunned to the bone. “Truly the man is far more conniving than I gave him credit for being.”

Demetrius went toward her, intending to fold her into his arms, but she held up a hand and lifted her chin. “We have to find a way to rescue Ellie.”

“And Bahru,” Ryan put in.

“Before the deadline.”

“When the Sun God reaches the halfway point to his power?” Demetrius asked. “What does that mean?”

“Beltane is halfway between the Vernal Equinox and the Summer Solstice, which is the longest day of the year, the sun’s point of maximum power. At the moment of Beltane, the sun is halfway to its strongest point,” Indy explained.

“But isn’t that...tomorrow?” he asked.

Lilia looked at the clock on the wall. “Given that it’s after midnight, no. It’s today. 9:05 a.m.” Blinking, she turned to Ryan. “Lena needs to pull herself together enough to try scrying again. She’s got the strongest bond to Ellie, and she’s got the most skill at divination.”

“If it didn’t work before—” Ryan began.

“Demetrius, we’ll need your chalice.”

“I’ll get it,” Demetrius said, jogging out of the room and down the stairs.

“And I’ll get Lena.” Ryan followed him.

Lilia nodded at Tomas and Indy, who entered the room just then. “We’ll cast a circle. Scrying within the circle will give it added power.”

Indy moved to the cabinet with a sharp nod, taking out incense, herbs, candles. Soon Demetrius was back with the chalice, which he handed to Lilia. His hand brushed hers, and their eyes met. She wanted to whisper, “I love you,” but she was afraid to. Goddess, if he opened to her now, all would be lost.

Amazingly, he closed his hand around hers and whispered, “Don’t worry, Lilia. I would rather die myself than risk the life of an innocent child. I know what this means. I’m choosing to remain as I am, but this time for the right reasons.”

She closed her eyes. He did not yet know that she would die with him. And she wasn’t going to tell him, because that might change his mind. She, too, would willingly give her life to save Ellie’s. And crossing the Veil with him by her side didn’t seem all that much of a sacrifice to her. She’d died before. It wasn’t so bad.

Noisy footsteps pounded up the stairs, and then Ryan and Lena were coming into the room, holding hands. Lena looked stronger, with a new determination in her eyes. Perhaps a new hope. She’d seen the power of the chalice before, after all.

Lilia nodded, then glanced at the window, at the stars dotting the midnight sky. “Your abilities will gain more power from nature. Let’s go outside.”

* * *

Lilia walked a circle with her hand held palm-down as the rest of them waited and watched. Demetrius could not takes his eyes from her. She’d donned ritual robes, golden and flowing, and they moved in the breeze with her silvery-blond hair. She was slight and fairylike, and yet so very powerful.

“I conjure thee, oh, circle of power. Three times ’round I walk this hour. Once to draw thee on the ground. Twice to raise the ring around. Thrice to close, above, below. Stomp to seal, and make it so.” She stomped her foot at the end of her third circuit and declared, “The circle is sealed.”

Then she used her forefinger to trace a “doorway” in the invisible sphere of energy she’d created and gave her sister a nod.

Indy was holding a conch shell filled with smoldering sage leaves in one hand and a vulture feather in the other. As each of the others approached the circle, she wafted the smoke over them, head to toe, front and back, before allowing them to pass. They entered and then walked clockwise, far enough around the circle to make room for the rest. Indy wafted the smoke over herself last of all, then entered and took her position. Lilia then traced a line over the ground where they’d entered, closing the door.

The stars twinkled above. Demetrius watched Lilia, mesmerized, even though her sisters were taking over some of the action now. On the eastern side of the circle, Lena raised her arms and called out, “Powers of Air, winds of change, elemental energies of the east and all those in the fairy realm, I summon, stir and call thee forth.” She paused, eyes closed, then with a nod said, “Hail and welcome.”

Everyone repeated the phrase. All the women, at least, and Ryan and Tomas, who seemed to know what was expected.

Indy’s short blond hair riffled as she opened her arms. “Powers of Fire, flames of passion, elemental energies of the south and all those in the fairy realm, I summon, stir and call thee forth. Hail and welcome.”

This time he repeated “Hail and welcome” with the others.

“Powers of Water, waters of transformation, elemental energies of the west and all those in the realm of the fay, I summon, stir and call thee forth.” Lilia said from the western side of the circle, her voice like a song. “Hail and welcome.”

Almost before the answering echo died, Indira walked across the circle and called out, “Powers of Earth, foundation and strength, elemental energies of the north, and all those in the fairy realm, I summon, stir and call thee forth. Hail and welcome.”

“Hail and welcome,” said the others.

The three sisters then moved to the very center of the circle, facing one another, palms pressed one to the other. “Powers of Spirit,” they said in unison. “Energies of the great below, all that’s come before, ancestors, beloved dead...” Slowly they raised their hands high overhead, palms still touching. “Energies of the great above, enlightened beings, angels and guides, we summon, stir and call thee forth.” Their hands parted like a starburst, out and down to their sides again. “Hail and welcome.”

They all repeated it. Then Indira and Lilia backed up to resume their places in the outer ring of the circle, leaving Magdalena alone in the center. She rose, opened her arms wide, feet apart. But she didn’t speak. Perhaps she couldn’t. Her tears were flowing. Slowly she crossed her arms over her chest, lowering her head. Again, no words. Then, nodding in apparent satisfaction, she whispered, “Hail and welcome.”

The echo was melancholy this time. Magdalena sought out Lilia and whispered, “Water.”

Lilia nodded, picking up the tiny jug that sat on the ground beside her and carrying it forward. Uncorking it, she poured water into Demetrius’s chalice, and then the two women knelt and looked into the water together for a very long time. Indy began to hum a tune that was somehow mystical, somehow magical, yet short and repetitive. She nodded at Tomas, and he joined in, followed by Ryan. And when they all looked at him expectantly, Demetrius added his own voice, an octave lower.

Finally, after a great many minutes had ticked past and the humming had lulled his brain into a sort of a daze, Lilia and Magdalena looked up from the chalice and into each other’s eyes. It seemed to Demetrius that they exchanged some silent message. They were both crying, tears streaming, and then they hugged hard and long before finally getting to their feet.

“What did you see?” Demetrius asked.

Lilia looked at him, then at her sister, who spoke for her. “Nothing,” Lena said. “The chalice showed us nothing.”

Lilia started to turn away, but Demetrius stepped forward, gripped her upper arms and held her, gently but firmly, so he could search her face, her eyes. “You saw something.”