The Vaga (9 page)

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Authors: S. A. Carter

BOOK: The Vaga
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Panting heavily, I place my hands against the glass, my warm breath leaving a ghostly mist on the surface. My eyes search the inside for any sign that this is where the sound was coming from, but all I see are statues and dark outlines of artifacts and exhibition pieces standing lifeless within the expansive interior.

Mags
,
can you hear me
? A brief fracture of an image of the inside of the building slices through my mind and I race past the entrance, around to the side of the museum where the alleyway is cast in an eerie glow between the two massive buildings that engulf it. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise as I slow down to a walk, keeping alert to any movement.

A rattling sound coming from a nearby trash can causes me to jump, and my hands charge as I wait for the culprit to emerge. A caramel-coloured cat pops its dirty head out of the trash can, a remnant of what was once a subway sandwich firmly embedded in its mouth.

‘Stupid cat,’ I whisper angrily, shooing it with my hand. The cat jumps out of its feeding pit, gives me a look of complete disdain, and makes its way through a hole in the bottom of the neighbouring fence.

Up ahead a sliver of light catches my attention, its narrow beam shining out from a service door stuck into the museum wall. I cautiously make my way towards it, my bare feet now burning from running against the hard ground, and notice that the door has been left slightly ajar, the light from within glowing outside onto the cement walkway ominously.

This is the part where Phoebe would tell me to run, but I can’t do that when Magi and Uncle Jo could be in there. I resolve to find them, allowing more of my magic to flow through me, the spirit of Isis stirring in anticipation. I grit my teeth and slowly pull the door open, squeezing myself through the gap and into a small room stuffed with cleaning products. Shelves filled with bottles and packets surround me, and the smell of bleach is so strong that if it wasn’t a storage room I would think I’ve just walked in on a freshly cleaned murder scene.

I cover my nose and head towards the next doorway. Popping my head out I notice that I am situated off the Great Hall near the public toilets. Having been here many times before, always as an admirer of the historical and architectural components, I know my way around the museum pretty well.

This building was once an old railway station built in the late eighteen hundreds, the remnants of its past still reflected in its features—large glass ceiling framed by arched brick bays and intricately embedded ceiling rosettes; a massive old clock tower trimmed in gold plating that has been ticking for over a century; and the original brick flooring of the old platform restored to its former glory with pockets of detailed patterns carved into its many faces.

I’ve spent many hours here looking up at the old clock, watching the world go by, imagining what it would have been like a hundred years ago. But now the echoing silence of the museum doesn’t hold the same appeal for me.

Where are they? I cast a projection spell, sending my magic out into the museum’s vastness, and I wait for it to pick up on anything out of the ordinary. After a few minutes I pull it back, having not sensed anything at all.

If Uncle Jo and Magi were here it should have picked up on them at least. Maybe I shouldn’t be here? Maybe this was a trap? My heart thuds heavily inside my chest and I realise that it may have been a big mistake to come here. But what if I’m wrong and they
are
in there, held by some unseen force, waiting for me to save them? I can’t turn away without finding out.

Treading carefully I move into the Great Hall where the first rays of sunrise are peeking their way through the glass ceiling above, cloaking the statues in soft light. I keep my body pressed up against the wall as if somehow I will blend in with the plasterwork and become invisible to the naked eye. My feet move off to the left, past the animal exhibit and the cafe before reaching the escalator to the next level. The brief image I received from Magi earlier came from the art gallery on the second floor, and that was where I was headed.

The escalator is sitting like a dormant caterpillar, and as I creep my way upwards the metal stairs send cold spikes up through my bare feet. When I reach the top I hear a faint noise off to my left and my eyes search the dim foyer for any movement or sign that Magi is close by. The silence is killing me, and I beg Magi to send me something, anything, but I am met with a soundless void.

Trepidation moves me forward, and I reach the entryway to the gallery to find that the room beyond is covered in darkness. No light is peeking through, and it puts my magic on heightened alert. I know from previous visits that this gallery is massive and stretches back far into the building where small rooms, holding a variety of collections, branch off it in all directions. Looking into the depths of the darkness an iciness seeps into my pores and I push down the urge to want to run.

I walk into the gallery and keep close to the wall, not wanting my back exposed to any unseen forces. I make it to the Italian room, where the artwork of
Caravaggio
,
Raphael
, and
Allori
adorn the walls. Using my keen night vision, I search the room quickly before moving past the doorway and towards the next room.

After I find the next couple of rooms empty I begin to think that I am making a fool of myself and that Uncle Jo and Magi aren’t even here, but then a sudden flash of a shadow from further into the galleries’ depths convinces me otherwise.

I stop dead in my tracks, my heart thumping wildly. What was that? The hairs on my arms rise as I realise that I am not alone in here.

Holding my breath, I wait to see it again but the seconds tick by and nothing happens. I call on my magic, and for the first time something really strange happens…it doesn’t turn on. I do it again, pushing my power to the surface where I feel it ripple from my core and flow out into the other areas of my body. I look down at my hands and a faint speckle of light puffs out of my fingertips, like a match that just won’t light.

Holy crap
!
Why is this happening
?

For the first time in forever I can’t call on my magic. A feeling of dread runs through me, and I know that without it I am a big, fat, sitting duck.

Where are you, Mags
? I all but scream out loud. Why can’t she hear me? My pulse is racing and I push my pride aside and call on Isis’ essence, hoping she’ll be able to push through whatever is blocking my power. I feel her trying to force her way through, her magic causing my core to flare with heat, but she can’t reach the surface either.

I am in big trouble.

A low whining sound coming from further in the gallery sends a cold shiver up my spine.
What the hell was that
? As I stare into the darkness, I wait for whatever is in here to reveal itself. My hands clench nervously at my sides and I cautiously back up, knowing that the exit is only about sixty feet behind me. If I could just get to it…

The whining noise comes at me again, but this time it sounds more like a dog in pain.
Magi
? It then falls away before turning into a high-pitched growl. As my eyes are directed towards the sound, I see a tail swish its way behind one of the stand-alone gallery walls. Fear travels up my spine and goosebumps flood my skin.

That is definitely not Magi
.

My body tenses with fear, and without waiting to see what will emerge from the other side of the wall, I turn and run. The high-pitched growl turns into a deep rumble, and without looking back I know that the
thing
has launched itself after me.

I make the entry and take a sharp left, my bare feet skidding against the tiles. Sprinting towards the escalator I can hear the sound of claws against tiles behind me and fear fuels my adrenalin. I reach the escalators quickly and for a split second I dare myself to look back, but something warns me against that. Without thinking I slide down the escalator handrail, reaching the bottom in a millisecond.

The thing scrambles down the escalator after me as I run back through the Great Hall, heading towards the storage room. It screeches, the horrible sound echoing through the empty museum. I try my magic again, praying for it to turn on, to do
something
. But nothing happens.

I keep running, but I don’t hear the thing chasing me anymore. In its place is an eerie silence, and this time I dare to look back over my shoulder to find that there is nothing behind me. Where did it go? My run slows down to a jog and I can’t help thinking that this thing is stalking me.
Just like in the park
.

Julian’s warning sounds out loud and clear in my head, ‘The Vaga are here to kill you.’

As I turn down the corridor leading to the storage room, I freeze and back myself into the wall quickly, hoping there is enough darkness to conceal me from the shadow that has just fallen across the doorway to my only exit point. Its tall frame lets me know that it’s probably human, but I’m not taking any chances. Heart thumping wildly, I slink back further into the wall and quietly move out of the corridor and back towards the animal exhibit, keeping an eye out for the creature that I know is still out there.

My breath is coming hard and fast and I try and slow it down for fear that the sound will give me away. Moving into the exhibit room, I look beyond the vast array of animal species, both large and small, for an exit out of this museum of imminent death. The only way out seems to be through the glass windows on the other side.

Out of options, I realise that I may have to risk multiple injuries by crashing through them. What’s a severed main artery when there’s a creature on my tail, right?

I hear movement behind me and scramble forward, quickly hiding behind a black bear standing nearly seven metres tall. I peer underneath the bear’s large arm and see a creature stalk silently into the room. It lifts its ugly snout into the air and inhales, its low-set ears twitching as it searches the darkness around it.

It takes a few quiet steps, moving off to the other side of the exhibit and I tremble as I look upon its odd and distorted features. Its body is a mix between a dog and a hyena, with its long tail and large head in disproportion to the rest of its body. Its striped fur glistens as it moves, and as it stalks further into the room I look down at its cloven hooves lined with razor sharp claws. This creature looks like it was coughed up from hell.

Dread washes over me, panic clutching at my chest.

I have to get out of here
.

I have only two options—run for the exit and hope I make it to the storage room in one piece, or take a risk by jumping through the glass windows. Either way, I have a feeling I’m screwed.

Chapter 8

I move back further into the shadows, trying to get
up enough guts to make a decision, when I hear Uncle Jo’s voice calling my name.

‘Ellie? Ellie, are you here?’ he whispers.

Uncle Jo
?

‘Ellie?’

I have to warn him. He has to get out of here. I take a step towards his voice and am suddenly pulled back by strong arms that are looped tightly around my waist. My scream is stifled by a large hand, but before I head butt whoever it is in the face he speaks.

‘Do not move,’ he whispers into my ear.

Julian
?!

‘That was
not
your uncle talking.’

Where did he come from? And what did he mean that wasn’t Uncle Jo? I heard his voice myself and it sounded just like him…didn’t it? Uncertainty creeps its way into my subconscious. If it wasn’t him, then something is trying to lure me out in the open by using Uncle Jo’s voice.
It must be the creature
. What sort of beast would be capable of doing that?

I nod reluctantly and he slowly releases his hand, the smell of his skin still lingering under my nose. He then loosens his grip from around my waist and a feeling of disappointment runs through me as I feel the heat of his body move back from mine.

Get it together
,
Ellie
.
Psycho creature on the loose remember
?

I turn my head to look at him and my breath catches in my throat as his eyes pierce mine. There is a moment between us that cannot be denied. Warning and desire course through me, and my emotions are going haywire as we stare at each other. Even in this light I can see his features clearly, and if I ever had any doubt that my feelings for him were real, this moment has only confirmed it for me.

I swallow the lump in my throat, and as his eyes travel down to my mouth I see his jaw clench. He breaks the connection first and presses his finger to his lips before pointing towards the exit. I shake my head and point towards the glass windows. He scowls and points to the exit. I scowl back and point to the windows. He rolls his eyes and I force back a smug smirk.

‘Ellie?’ I hear my name again.

My head whips towards the sound—it’s edging closer, coming from the area in front of the windows. I look back at Julian, whose gaze reminds me that it’s not my uncle talking. He then jerks his head towards the exit door and I can’t do anything but follow him now that my awesome crashing-through-the-window-stunt has been foiled by the voice imitator blocking my path.

As we make our way silently towards the doorway, weaving in and out of the animals, I can’t help but wonder what sort of creature possesses the power to imitate a human voice? And how did it know Uncle Jo’s? The creepy feeling surrounding this whole thing disturbs me, and I focus only on what I need to do now—getting out of here alive.

Julian moves forward, his eyes roaming the room with calculative precision while his body is hard and on edge. I try and avoid looking at his muscled legs, but even through his pants I can see their firm outline and a tingle of desire travels through me.

Ama’s words taunt me, ‘
You
,
my love
,
are going through Luxus
.’

I will myself to get a grip and push down my horny-Luxus-vibes.

I keep close to Julian, not willing to be too far away from him, and his hand reaches out to me as we move closer to our escape.

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