Moon Set, page 15
“Go through the doorway over there and get Healer Reseda to look at that, Mr. Dunstan. Medicus Averto,” Wicasa said, as he waved his wand.
They all gaped as a door appeared out of nowhere in the solid stone wall. Bryn nodded and disappeared without question. Wicasa turned to Petra and Reuben and gave them a tight but worried smile as he peered down the hallway behind them.
“Casey and Elowen haven’t come back yet,” Petra said. “I assume Reuben told you they planned to search the underground classrooms?”
Wicasa and Reuben both nodded.
The sound of the door flying open and smashing against the wall drew their attention as Bryn reappeared, his lip still dripping blood. All they could make out above his labored breathing were the words, “Infirmary. Now!”
24
AD IMPERIUM
Karisa tried to open her eyelids, but they were too heavy to lift. The cold surface below her penetrated her body’s warmth, but she couldn’t recall how she got there.
Hadn’t she been kissing Garrett as he was lying on the marble bench?
Karisa tried again, and this time her eyes opened to small slits. She couldn’t see much. The room was gloomy and smelled of smoke and something else she couldn’t identify. Then she noticed a hand snaking its way up her bared thigh, following the split of her dress. She may not know why she couldn’t move, but she knew for certain the hand moving so roughly on her leg didn’t belong to the wizard who’d been kissing her moments ago. At least, she thought it was moments ago. She could still feel the heat of Garrett’s lips on hers.
A groan escaped her as she willed herself to move. She wanted to slap that hand away, to kick out and connect with whoever was touching her as if they owned her and leaned over her, gloating as if she were a prize. That hand was creeping higher now, and she yelled out for it to stop, but little more than a whisper escaped her dry mouth. Then a curse sounded, the wizard screamed in pain, and Karisa could no longer feel his unwanted touch.
“Get your hands off her and get back into position,” another wizard said. “Do you want Tempest to know you were the one responsible for dropping your guard and giving her a chance to escape? It’s taken five of us to hold her down under the Parere Compulsion as it is.”
Karisa didn’t recognize the voice. She groaned again.
No wonder I can barely move. Where am I? Oh my stars, where is Garrett?
Try as she might, she couldn’t see much. Her blond Adonis remained out of sight. Many thoughts burned through her mind.
Who captured us? Where are we?
There was no way they could still be at the university. Wherever she was, there was a familiar feel to the place, but she couldn’t recognize it. And what of Garrett? Had his big speech been merely a trick to get her alone and make her an easy target after all? Was he pointing his wand at her and using his magic to ensure she obeyed his commands? Was he helping them hold her prisoner?
She couldn’t see anyone. She couldn’t hear too much either, except for some whispered conversation somewhere to her left. Had he played her once again? Or was he in the same condition as she was, lying helpless on the floor, barely conscious?
Karisa gulped.
Or worse, was Garrett dead?
She closed her eyes as she sensed footsteps approaching. Someone stood over her, close enough to touch. If only she could move her hand, but then, if Garrett was lying close by, her spell would hit him too and she couldn’t take that chance.
“She’s fighting it, just as expected,” the wizard who spoke before said.
Surprised exclamations punctured the air.
“Don’t take your eyes or your wands off her for a moment. She won’t break the spell by the time our Savior gets here, and we can present him with our little gift.”
Karisa gasped. She wouldn’t forget that voice for a long time, just as she knew Reuben and Casey wouldn’t either. The witch hovering over her was Jezebeth Von Vespa.
So she’s the one behind this.
The unknown wizard replied, his tone one of malicious glee. “We will be well rewarded for capturing the Peacemaker and presenting her to our Savior, a most brilliant plan, Mistress.”
Jezebeth gave a cold, high laugh that made Karisa think of harpies screeching as they flew down to punish those who’d committed crimes.
“Yes indeed. I’m sure our Savior will be pleased.”
“What should we do with this one? Her companion?” the wizard asked.
Karisa could hear the sneer in his voice. Von Vespa walked away, and Karisa tried to discern how far she moved.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Master Huxley.” Von Vespa spat out Garrett’s name as if she had tasted something vile, although it was nowhere as near the disgusted tone Petra could evoke.
“Just look at the little whelp, so much like his father. I suppose all the stupid little witches run after you, too. Just like your mother did with Cassien. She was a tramp, too. He only married her for the family money. He never loved her.” She dropped her voice to almost a whisper. “He never wanted you, dontcha know. Still don’t know how she managed that, falling pregnant with you, so he stayed married to her. Not that it ever stopped him from having his fun.”
A low, angry growl, a muttered “Bitch,” and the sounds of a fierce yet short-lived struggle reached Karisa’s ears. If she could have, she would have cried out in relief. Garrett was alive. If they had him under the Parere Compulsion too, then perhaps her instincts about him were right after all. Yes, it could have all been an act for her benefit, but somehow Karisa didn’t think so. After what he’d said out on the balcony, she didn’t think there was room for any doubt. Not anymore.
Once again, Jezebeth’s cruel voice shattered the still air. “I doubt our Savior would find much use for him unless he joins us and becomes a shadow mage.”
The sound of clothing being ripped mixed with jeers and laughter in the group, but Karisa had no idea how many there were or what they were doing.
“I’m surprised he doesn’t have our Savior’s symbol already. Being the son of a ‘loyal’ servant makes one think he’d be first in line to receive it. Perhaps his father has already decided he’s not good enough to be a shadow mage? You boys go ahead and have a little fun with him. Call it an initiation. If Tempest decides he doesn’t need him, you can kill him,” Von Vespa said. “You’re so weak, Garrett. There’s five of us controlling the Peacemaker. We only needed one wizard to control you. Why would Donovan Tempest want you?”
A deep, pain-filled whimper reached Karisa’s ears.
What was she doing?
“Our Savior might kill you anyway when I tell him what you two were doing out there on the balcony. I’m sure he’d be very interested in hearing that.”
Garrett screeched in agony.
“Oh, you poor, poor baby. Does that hurt?” Saccharine sweetness permeated the air as Von Vespa gloated over Garrett. “Do you want to cry for your mommy? And to think, we’ve hardly begun to torture you yet.”
Karisa clenched her fists and tried to move. All the while, she listened to Garrett’s cries of pain and Von Vespa’s cruel taunts as she paced between her prisoners. Her heart ached for him in his suffering. The shadow mages under Von Vespa’s command hadn’t built up to a level of pain. They went straight for the jugular. They wanted to hear him scream. To hear him beg. No doubt they wanted Von Vespa’s approval too and were eager to please their mistress, to prove their loyalty.
Tears spilled over Karisa’s cheeks.
“Well, isn’t that precious? She cries for you, Huxley spawn. The Peacemaker thinks she feels your pain. You know she’d take it away from you if she could only reach you. But we can’t have that happening, can we? My shadow mages are having way too much fun.”
Ragged breaths punctured the air as Garrett fought against the agony encompassing him. If his aunt meant to cause despair by telling him Karisa was crying, if she wanted him to think their situation was hopeless, she failed. Knowing Karisa believed in him, and she cared for him, made the pain almost bearable.
Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. He hurt all over. His blood boiled in his veins, and he was certain his organs would explode from the heat. He knew he couldn’t last long under the intensity of hate the two wizards were projecting at him. While he regained his breath and enjoyed what was probably only a brief reprieve, he looked into the eyes of his torturers. One of them blew him a big pouty kiss. The other sneered as if he knew his fun had only just begun.
He noted one held his arm close to his chest as if it had been broken and hurriedly and inexpertly healed. While the one who’d blown him the kiss had the imprint of something across his cheek, as if something had branded the wizard. They looked as though they’d come second best in a duel with a wizard far superior. As if he sensed his face was no longer obscured, the wizard pulled the hood of his jacket down, casting his features into shadow. A squint in the gloom and the glimpse of the man’s face told Garrett these two wizards had been present when they’d first attempted to capture Karisa.
Merlin! And I’d almost tried to help them.
Here they were, allies one minute, so eager to turn on him the next. Of all the times for that rotten Terran to come to mind, he thought of Colton. Colton’s friends wouldn’t have turned on him. Colton’s friends would have been right here with him. Maybe even getting tortured themselves, but they would have been here. Something else popped unbidden into his mind then.
“Hold on, Garrett. Please, hold on. You’re not alone.”
That voice had come from inside his head. Her words hadn’t been spoken. He frowned.
“Who are you? Where are you? What are you?”
No one answered him. Perhaps his tortured brain had imagined it.
Von Vespa kneeled beside him and ran her thin razor-sharp nails along Garrett’s bared chest as she dragged her hand along his body. She pushed away the scraps of material left when they’d used a spell to search for the non-existent tattoo on his arm. Welts of torn skin and blood mixed with his sweat and Garrett felt fresh pain contact with his flesh. She brought her face close to his and, for one horrible moment, Garrett thought she was going to kiss him. Somehow that was a thousand times worse than the thought of being cornered by Mildred, or even Petra Ripley. His aunt was a mere inch away when she stopped and stared into his eyes.
“What’s the matter, Garrett? Don’t I please you? Have you never known the pleasure of a woman? Have you been so busy playing games with all those silly little girls?”
She clasped her hand over his chin and dug her nails in as she forced him to look at her. “What’s that? Curse got your tongue?” she asked when he didn’t reply.
She released him with a flick of her wrist, stood, and consulted the clock that rested on the wall next to an old, tarnished mirror.
“Our Savior should be here soon. I left word with him to meet us here after he finished an important meeting with a ‘business client.’”
She primped and preened in front of the mirror as if she were the teenage beauty she once was. At least, she had been from the one photo Garrett could remember seeing in their family home. With a slow wink at the wizards standing over Garrett, she nodded her head, and Garrett let loose another terrifying scream.
With Herculean effort, Karisa wrenched her head to the right and saw Garrett writhing in agony ten feet away from her. Then she screamed as the wizards who held her captive under the Parere Compulsion yelled “ad Dolorem” at her too.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jezebeth hissed at them. “I told you, she’s meant to be unharmed. You can do what you like to her when Tempest is finished. Until then, she stays under the Parere Compulsion only.” She glared at the wizard she’d cursed earlier for touching Karisa. “When I told you to keep an eye on her, I meant with the curse, not your own sick, perverted lusts. Do I make myself clear?”
She sniffed her approval as the wizard nodded and concentrated on looking as menacing as possible. Not that it mattered. His momentary lapse of concentration had been all Karisa needed to turn her head far enough to see Garrett. Now she could open and close her eyes at will and her vision was clearer. Garrett’s torture earlier had been enough entertainment for the other four shadow mages to loosen their hold on her so she could shed the tears that drew Von Vespa’s attention. She was gaining a little control over herself once more. She knew the witch was somewhere behind her. And she knew where they were now, too.
The smoke and fermentation aromas made sense now, as did the cold hard wooden floor and the gloominess, although she still had no idea how long they’d been there. They were in The Ice Breaker Tavern. She bit her lip to stop from screaming out in case it alerted Von Vespa as she watched the wizards continue the level of agony they were inflicting on Garrett.
Once again, Jezebeth gestured with a finger and they stopped, although not straight away this time. They were enjoying themselves, and the fact it pleased their mistress made the experience all the sweeter for them. Again, the vile witch strode between Karisa and Garrett as if she were a mortal model striding down the catwalk, pausing here and there to look at her fellow shadow mages and then down at her prisoners.
“How much more do you think he can stand, Peacemaker? Should I let the boys play a little longer or do you think he’s had enough for now?”
She reached down and grabbed a curl that had untwisted from Karisa’s hairstyle, wrapped it around her own hand, and pulled it hard. Fresh tears adorned Karisa’s cheeks.
“You want to scream, don’t you? You want to speak. Perhaps I’ll let you if you’re a good girl. And if you are a good girl, then perhaps I won’t let the boys have you when our Savior has finished with you. Perhaps I’ll give you a quick, painless death.”
She released Karisa’s hair and her head cracked against the floor with a resounding thud. Jezebeth motioned with her hand and the wizards guarding Karisa loosened their spells.
“Now you can talk to me.”
Von Vespa settled herself down beside her with another sugary smile.
“So, tell me, Karisa,” she said in an unnerving, child-like manner. “What does Donovan really want you for? Just between us girls, what is it about you he desires so?” Seconds passed. “I wouldn’t keep me waiting too long if I were you.” She spat out the words, all sweetness and light forgotten.
25
FACE IN THE MIRROR
“I’m not known for my patience.”
Jezebeth leaned back and examined her nails nonchalantly enough, but Karisa knew she meant business and her words were true. Patience was not amongst this witch’s virtues, assuming she had any. Karisa raised her voice so everyone in the room could hear her.
“I’m surprised Donovan didn’t tell you himself. Guess you’re not as much a part of his inner circle as you like everyone to think.”
Jezebeth shook her head and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. “Is that the best you can do, Peacemaker? You think you can turn my shadow mages against me? They are loyal to me. They would do anything I asked of them, and I mean anything.”
From her right, an agonized voice spoke up. “Shadow mages don’t know the first thing about loyalty to others. They are only loyal to themselves and their fears. The only reason you have control now is because my father is imprisoned. If he was out and standing at Tempest’s side, you’d be the nothing you really are.”
Instantly, Jezebeth was at Garrett’s side, delivering a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek, the welt appearing a mere second later. “Cassien Huxley is nothing compared to me. I am more loyal to our Savior than he ever was. Our Savior uses him for his money and position, and that’s it. He needs me for much, much more. How dare you say his name like you know him? Do it again, and you won’t be around long enough to enjoy being in his presence. As for your father, what can he do from his prison cell? Our Savior has left him there to rot for his many failures. Cassien abandoned him twenty years ago and again a few years ago when he failed to capture that stupid Terran boy, didn’t he? Seems to me both Huxleys are failures. I didn’t betray the Savior. Now I serve faithfully at his side, and I will continue to do so.”
With that angry tirade, she produced her wand, and blasted Garrett with such intense hatred, he passed out, too weak from his previous tortures to offer any resistance from the pain she rained down on him. This time Karisa screamed, a loud piercing wail that reverberated around the room and caused more than one shadow mage to block their ears.
“Stop! You’re going to kill him,” she cried, almost sitting up.
Seconds later, the shadow mages had her firmly in their grip once again. At least, they did for a moment. This time, Karisa fought with furious intensity. She only needed to get one hand free. She’d blast them to a realm that never saw daylight and harbored such nightmarish creatures that even Dante and his works on the Inferno would never have dreamed of. But she was stuck fast. The shadow mages seemed to feed off her helpless state. She didn’t stop trying to break free until she heard a feeble moan and realized Garrett had regained consciousness. She calmed herself and lay still, her gaze glued to the prone figure across from her, silently willing him to turn toward her and let her know he was all right.
Garrett turned. His eyes were out of focus at first, but then they sharpened as he realized where he was and could see her lying there. He gave her a thin, watery smile and defiant to his pain and their situation, winked. Something flashed like a light reflecting off a mirror and lit upon an object not too far from the table leg close to where Garrett was lying. Karisa’s lips curled in triumph, but she didn’t direct it at Garrett.
Instead, in recognition of the object she’d spied, Karisa renewed her efforts to break free. She knew she only had one chance to do what she had in mind. And if there were any mistakes, she, Garrett, or both would pay for it with their lives. Karisa turned away from Garrett and looked for Von Vespa, who inexplicably seemed to have forgotten both of her prisoners. She was busy talking to the two shadow mages who’d been enjoying torturing Garrett and another witch she hadn’t noticed before.
