Zerek laughed. “Perhaps you should be the one
to inform her of that.”
“Why? Are you
afraid
of her?” She
stood and leaned against the wall, leaving Toran between them.
“When you see what she has planned for you,
you’ll change your attitude.” Zerek held out his whip again, ready
to strike. “Come with us, or I will whip him ‘til he’s dead.”
Kira took a step toward them. “You touch him
and I’ll scratch your eyes out.”
Zerek pulled back the whip and gave it a
flick in Toran’s direction. It made a loud snap above his head.
“You choose. Go with us or he dies.”
“Fine, I’ll go.” Toran lurched to his feet
and growled at Zerek again, pulling against the chains. Kira buried
her bound hands in his fur and stroked his back. “It’s okay, I’ll
be right back.”
Zerek laughed. “She speaks to the beast as if
he understands. Perhaps she has a
gift
.”
* * * * *
At the opposite end of the barn, a doorway
opened into a large room, much bigger than Kira had expected.
Unlike the rest of the barn, which had dirt and straw for a floor,
this section had a solid slab of concrete. Panels of stainless
steel sheeting lined the walls where three small, barred windows
provided ample light.
On the right side was a long metal table with
a lamp hanging above it that reminded her of an operating room.
Behind that, a long section of counter stood with two deep sinks
dividing it down the middle.
The ceiling was much like the rest of the
barn, with open rafters, but they’d been painted white. An
elaborate pulley system hung from one of the beams in the middle of
the room and held a thick chain and leather straps with buckles.
Everything in the room looked old and worn, but clean.
Shandira sat near a small table on the left
side of the room. In the corner, a mattress lay on the floor,
covered with several of the fine tapestries she’d seen in
Octavion’s and Lydia’s possessions. Next to the bed, a series of
built-in shelves held several of Octavion’s small glass and metal
containers and wooden boxes.
Shandira stood as they entered the room.
“Bring her here,” she instructed. She stepped to the shelf closest
to her bed and pulled down a small box. As Zerek shoved Kira into a
chair, Shandira dropped the box onto the table.
Zerek ran his fingers through Kira’s hair and
bent to kiss her. She swung her arms around and hit him in the
thigh, then jumped to her feet to run. Zerek grabbed her, sat in
the chair with Kira on his lap and held both her arms by wrapping
her tight in his embrace.
“Try to run now.” He threw his head back and
laughed, his hot, putrid breath washing over her.
His right arm held her just above her chest.
She tucked in her chin, leaned forward and sank her teeth into his
skin, taking in a mouth full of his blood. She pushed off with her
feet and arched her back, sending both her and Zerek backward onto
the floor. Zerek hit the ground first, the back of his head
striking with a sickening thud. With the wind knocked out of him,
his grip around her loosened. Kira rolled away and ran for the
door.
Shandira appeared in front of her, arms
folded across her chest. “Going somewhere?” She grinned. “Tie her
to the chair if you have to.”
Kira tried to push Shandira aside, but Cael
grabbed her from behind and threw her over his shoulder. Zerek
stood near the table with the righted chair. He held onto the back
of it while Cael forced Kira to sit.
“Let go of me,” Kira yelled, the metallic
taste of Zerek’s blood still fresh on her lips.
Zerek cut the rope around her wrists and
pulled her hands around behind the back of the chair while Cael
bound them together, cinching them tight.
“It’s too tight,” she complained.
“That’s what you get for running,” Zerek
said.
Shandira opened the box and took out a small
tapestry bag with a black cord. “I don’t suppose you’d like to have
this?” She dangled the bag in front of Kira’s face.
Opening the end, Shandira slipped her hand
inside and pulled out the journey stone. “My brother was so busy
worrying about your scent he didn’t see me hiding in his lair. Too
bad he didn’t care enough to save you.” She placed the stone on the
table in front of Kira. “Now . . . tell me how it works.”
“I don’t know,” Kira lied.
“If you know what this is, you know how to
use it. He must have shown you.” She flicked it with her finger,
making it spin on the table.
“It’s from
your
world,” Kira said.
“Why can’t you figure it out?”
“It will not work for me. It is . . .
temperamental. But for you, it may.”
“They only showed it to me and said it opened
the way to their world. They said it was too dangerous to use. They
never told me how.”
“You’re lying.” Shandira paced the floor. “I
know him. He would have shown you.” She paused for a moment and
stepped closer, placing both hands on the table. Slowly leaning
across, she glared into Kira’s eyes. At first Kira saw only anger,
but then confusion and surprise took over. “How are your eyes that
color?” Shandira looked away, as if staring at them caused her
pain.
“I was born with them. Maybe you should ask
my mother—if you can find her.” Kira knew the minute she said the
words, she shouldn’t have. She’d spat them out with a little too
much attitude.
Zerek stepped closer. “She’s lying. Luka told
us her eyes got that way when Octavion bound himself to her. It is
his blood that caused the change.”
“Is this true?” she asked Kira.
“No, his blood did more harm than good. I
can’t even heal anymore without my heart hurting.”
Shandira grinned. “You are lying. What other
gifts did his blood give you?”
Kira pulled against the ropes, trying to
loosen the ones around her wrists. “Untie me and let me show you—in
a
fair
fight, not with your cowardly disappearing act.”
Shandira came around the table and backhanded
Kira across the face. It was the same cheek Cael hit the night
before and the force behind the punch knocked Kira senseless for
moment. Shandira picked up the journey stone, slid it into the
pouch and tossed it onto her bed.
“Maybe what you need is a little persuasion.”
An evil smirk crossed her face. “Zerek. Perhaps a few lashings will
loosen her memory.”
“No!” Kira screamed, pulling against the
ropes and causing the knots to tighten.
Zerek grabbed the rope that held her and
untied it enough to free her from the chair, but her hands remained
bound behind her back. Cael took hold of one of the leather straps
that was suspended from the center of the room, meeting with
Shandira’s rebuke.
“Not in here, you idiots. I don’t want her
blood soiling my floor.”
Cael picked Kira up, threw her over his
shoulder, and carried her back to the stall. When they entered,
Toran let out a ferocious roar and pulled against the chain. Then
he cowered away and whimpered—only to do it again and again.
Once they retied Kira’s hands in front and
suspended her from one of the rafters with a length of rope, Cael
grabbed the back of her shirt and ripped it open. Kira looked up at
her bound hands and the rope suspending her from the rafters and
panic set in—this was the scene she’d envisioned when climbing the
rope at school. Fear seized every muscle in her body as she
struggled to pull her hands free while kicking her feet wildly
toward Zerek and Cael.
When the first thrash of the whip struck her
back, Kira screamed and Toran leapt at Zerek, catching the back of
Zerek’s thigh with his sharp claws. He stumbled against the far
wall, dropping the whip. Cael picked it up and continued the
gruesome assault.
Kira’s cries sent Toran into a wild frenzy.
He pulled harder and harder against the chain, driving the blades
of the collar even deeper into his neck. On his last attempt to
save Kira, he leapt into the air, hit the end of the chain and
collapsed onto the ground, the horrible sound of air and blood
gurgling through his throat.
“Toran!” Kira cried, but the big cat lay
still.
Cael continued to whip her, one strike after
another, until Kira had spent all her energy screaming. She’d never
felt so much pain, not even when she’d healed her own wounds. When
Cael finally cut her down, she landed square on her back—the sudden
surge of pain as the open wounds hit the dirt, knocked her
breathless.
Cael’s roar told her he’d transformed from
the scent of her blood—but somehow he’d managed to suppress his
desires long enough to get out of the room. She heard the scuff of
their steps, the door slammed shut and the bolt latch. She didn’t
dare move until she heard their voices on the other side.
Kira’s trembling body went limp and for
several moments she lay motionless. She wasn’t sure how many times
she blacked out, or even if she had, only that the pain brought her
alert with each labored breath. Slowly, she rolled to her side and
tried to heal bleeding welts on her back—but the Crystor remained
dormant, useless.
“Al, are you still here? I’m cold.” Kira knew
she’d barely whispered her plea, but hoped Altaria could
understand, could help her in some way. But no warmth came to
comfort her. Every last ounce of energy, every last hope, had been
beaten out of her and she had nothing left to give. She thought
she’d spent all her tears until she reached for Toran and felt the
warmth of his fur between her fingers. He’d died trying to save her
life. But he wasn’t the only one she’d let down.
Lydia? I’m so sorry.
As Kira continued
to share her thoughts, getting none in return, she gave into sleep.
The kind of sleep that brought nightmares and visions she couldn’t
escape from. The kind of sleep that broke her heart, destroyed her
dreams and captured her will to live.
When Kira woke, someone had thrown the rope
that still held her wrists together up over the rafters, and tied
it off on a metal hook near the door. They’d sat her up and leaned
her against the wall, giving her enough slack so she could barely
rest her elbows at her sides. Her hands hung suspended in front of
her face.
She leaned forward, trying to relieve the
pressure on her back, but it only drew more attention to the pain
as the fresh scabs cracked. Her wrists and shoulders throbbed as
they pulled against the rope.
Kira spent the rest of the day sitting in the
same place, her eyes burning from the tears she shed. By nightfall
she found it more comfortable to stand. At least she could relax
her arms and the tension on the rope around her wrists. She was
hungry, thirsty, and still too weak to heal her back. “Al, are you
still here?” This time her body filled with warmth and Kira’s tears
flowed freely. “I wish you could talk to me. I don’t know what to
do and I feel so alone.”
Kira shifted her weight to the other foot,
then tried to loosen the ropes around her wrists. The knots were
too tight to undo with her teeth, but she managed to make them a
little more bearable and they weren’t putting pressure on the
Crystor anymore. That was her main concern—that’s all Lydia needed
was more pain.
For most of the night, she tried contacting
Lydia—without response. Kira couldn’t think about what that meant,
that the Crystor didn’t work because they were no longer bound—or
that Lydia was dead.
When morning came, so did the flies and
insects. Toran’s bloody and beaten body was infested with them and
the odor of rotting flesh made breathing almost impossible. It
didn’t take long for the open cuts on Kira’s back to draw them as
well. The only way she could protect her back was to lean against
the wall and keep pressure on the tender wounds. The rough and
splintered wood dug into her raw flesh, but the pain was better
than the alternative.
By the afternoon of the third day, she
started to panic. It had been almost two full days since she’d
heard any voices or movement from inside the barn. What if they’d
left her to die? Kira spent the rest of the day and throughout the
night alternating between crying hysterically and numbly staring at
nothing.
When the room began to lighten on the morning
of the fourth day, she heard faint voices—Shandira barking orders
at Zerek. Using the rope to pull herself up, Kira stepped as close
to the door as her restraints would allow.
“Somebody!” Her scream was a raspy whisper.
She cleared her throat and swallowed. “Please . . . I need . . .
water.”
Male voices and quick footsteps echoed down
the narrow corridor and approached Kira’s stall. A moment later,
the latch slid to the side, but instead of the door opening, she
heard a scuffle and a solid thud against the door. Kira jumped back
and pulled harder against the rope, but it didn’t budge.
“Did you not hear your orders?” Cael yelled.
“You were told to leave her be.”
There was a long pause, followed by Cael’s
voice again. “I don’t care if she dies. She is no use to us now.
She deserves to rot with the beast for what she did to my
brother.”
The uncomfortable silence that followed told
Kira it was Nigel on the other side of that door. Why would he go
up against Cael to help
her
?
Kira heard an explosion of fists hitting
solid muscle, punctuated by swearing and grunts of exertion. The
fight continued, with no suggestion of who held the upper
hand—until she heard the cry of a wild cat and knew Cael had
transformed. A moment later, there was only silence. Without the
ability to transform, Nigel didn’t have a chance.
Kira stared at the red door and smiled,
causing her dry, cracked lips to sting.
Just my luck
, she
thought. “Here’s a good one, Al. The door’s unlatched and I could
probably sneak out unnoticed . . . if I weren’t
tied up
.”
This time there was no warmth, only a cold chill. “Aaaaah!” She
gave one last pull on the rope and slumped back to the floor