chapter 43
TO CALL DACHEV’S BASEMENT A CRAWL SPACE WOULD imply that it was big enough to crawl in. To even turn around, I had to scrunch down and duck my head.
Although the full moon had illuminated enough upstairs to see by, even with the open hatch, it was pitch black down here. I cast a light-ball spell. It lasted less than a second, just long enough to stamp an impression of dirt walls on my retinas before sputtering out. I cast it again. Same thing. I’d always thought of this as a child’s spell, and had used it so little that I hadn’t even bothered passing it on to Savannah. Since arriving in the nonelectrical ghost world, though, I’d used the spell regularly, so there must have been something about the conditions underground that were making the light go out. I tried it twice more, then gave up.
Dachev had said the book was on a shelf to the left, immediately under the hatch. The only thing I could feel there was a web of thin roots. As I ran my hands over them, the front door slammed. I wriggled around as fast as I could, and swept my hands across the right side, then the end wall. My fingers snagged on the roots and my nails filled with dirt, but I could feel nothing like a shelf or a book.
I cast the light-ball spell again. Then again. And again. Each time I cast, I got a split-second snapshot, all revealing the same thing—an unbroken expanse of dirt and roots.
Footsteps crossed the living room. I twisted around and scrambled to the other end, looking about wildly, hands running over the walls, knocking off clumps of dank earth, the stink of it filling my nostrils.
“Do you have the book?” Dachev’s voice reverberated through the room above.
I skimmed my hands over the roof. Splinters bit into my palms. It was a solid sheet of wooden planks.
“There is no book,” I said, teeth gritted.
Dachev’s laughter floated down.
“You said—” I began.
He lowered his head into the crawl space and peered around, then pulled back. “I said I would tell you the secret if you retrieved the book…which I would have, had there been a book to retrieve.”
I clenched my teeth and forced myself to be quiet. When I didn’t respond, he ducked his head back in, trying again, unsuccessfully, to see me.
“You might as well come out of there,” he said. “There’s no place to go.”
As he spoke, I crept forward, then stopped when he did. He sighed.
“Cowering in that hole does not become you. Or are you sulking?”
I made it halfway across this time. As he paused, I itched to creep another few steps, but didn’t dare. Even the whisper of my clothes as I moved was too loud. When he started talking, I started moving.
“I will count to five, and then I will come in there after you, and drag you out by that pretty, long hair.”
I waited, barely a foot from his face, holding myself as still as I could.
“Five…four—”
I hooked him around the neck and yanked. He tumbled into the hole. He scrambled onto me and tried to pin my arms. When he couldn’t get a grip on them, he seized my hair. I slammed my open palm into the bottom of his jaw. He grunted, and fell back.
I slid out from under him. He reached for me again, but I scrambled out of the way, and grabbed the edge of the hatch, hoisting myself up. When he came at me, I kicked him in the face. He stumbled back. I dropped into the hole and fell on him.
He bucked to throw me off, but I managed to flip him onto his stomach. I kneeled as best I could on his back. Then I grasped his hands and held them and, with my teeth, untied the extra piece of vine. He rocked and wriggled and cursed, but after a few tries, I got the vine tied around his wrists and ankles.
“You think you’re clever?” he snarled. “One scream from me and every one of those beasties up there will come running—”
“Whoops, almost forgot. Thanks.”
I stuffed my other sock into his mouth. Then I paid him the same honor he’d promised me: I grabbed him by the hair and hauled him out of the crawl space.
“So,” I said as I dumped him on the bedroom floor.
“Are you going to tell me how to catch the Nix?”
He only narrowed his eyes, a “f*ck you” in any language.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll come back in a couple of days, see whether you’ve changed your mind.”
As I walked toward the living room, Dachev made a guttural sound behind his gag.
“Oh, no, don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not going to abandon you. You’ll have plenty of company…just as soon as I tell your comrades where you are.”
He let me get as far as the front door, then banged his shoulder against the floor to get my attention. I peeked around the bedroom doorway.
“Yes?”
He grunted and gnashed at his gag. I yanked the sock from his mouth.
“Ready to talk?” I said.
“Untie me first.”
I laughed.
“Then no deal. You’ll take what you want and leave me like this.”
“No, I won’t, but since you don’t know me well enough to trust my word, I’ll meet you halfway. I’ll untie your feet now. Then, if I do betray you, at least you can run.”
He let out a stream of obscenities, at least one of which lost something in the translation to English.
“Keep that up and I’ll stick the sock back in.” I cast the lie-detection spell. “Now start talking or I start walking.”
He snarled, but, after a moment, spat out his part of the incantation.
“How can the Nix be caught?” I asked.
Another hesitation, then, “By killing the host body.”
“I know that. But you did it without the sword. How?”
For at least a minute, the only sound was the grinding of his teeth, as he struggled to think of some other way out of this. Finally, he said, “By killing…and yet not killing.”
“I don’t do riddles.”
He leaned back to look up at me. “No? Why? Because they require you to use more than your fists and your feet? Not much in that pretty head of yours, is there?”
“No. Just enough to trick you.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Can we skip the insult toss?” I said. “The sooner I’m out of here, the sooner we’ll both be much happier.”
“She must be killed, but not allowed to die.”
“Deliver a mortal blow, you mean.” I paused, thinking it through. “If the host is still alive, she can jump free. If the host is dead, she can jump free…unless she’s skewered on the end of an angel sword first. But during that time between life and death, she’s stuck, isn’t she?”
Dachev glared at me.
“Yes or no,” I said. “Is she trapped in the host when it’s stuck between life and death?”
“Yes.”
“But how do you pull her out? A spell?”
“No.” He paused then, but I could tell he wanted this over with, so after a moment, he said, “Her spirit starts to separate as the host dies. You’ll see it. At that point, she’s powerless—she can’t transport herself and she doesn’t have her demonic strength.”
I remembered the community center, when the Nix had escaped from her partner’s body before Trsiel could deliver the life-ending blow. I’d seen her spirit oozing out from Lily. Only one problem with this scenario. The life-ending-blow part. For a split-second, I mentally panicked, certain I was right back where I’d started, and there was no way to catch the Nix except by killing Jaime, and if the Fates wouldn’t allow that, then how the hell—
“But the host didn’t die,” I said. “She was resuscitated, wasn’t she?”
Dachev’s jaw locked. Another opportunity to mock me lost. After a moment, he answered with a nod.
“Out loud,” I said.
“Yes,” he said through his teeth. “She was brought back to life. People were nearby. Someone found her—”
“And resuscitated her.” I walked to his side. “Where did you find out how to do this? Is there a book?”
A short laugh. “Book? Books are for those who lack the mental capacity to think for themselves. I figured it out by myself.”
His eyes darkened.
“Uh, wanna try that one again?” I asked.
He let out another stream of profanity. I paused, thinking, then laughed loud enough that the sudden noise made him jump.
“It was an accident, wasn’t it?” I said. “You were tracking the Nix. You found her, and as you were trying to figure out what to do next, her partner almost died. You saw the Nix’s spirit and you cut her a deal. Help you escape from the Fates or you’d sic an angel on her. It wasn’t planned. It was pure, dumb luck.”
Dachev snarled, then spat on the floor.
“No need to answer that one,” I said.
I untied his bindings.
“There, freed as promise—”
He lunged to his feet and hit me, knocking me back. I recovered, but before I could retaliate, he’d backed off. He crossed the room, hands clenched, then turned to face me.
“You have what you came for,” he said. “Now drink your hellsbane potion and go.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will.”
A tiny smile tweaked his lips. “No, pretty one, I don’t think so.”
He lifted his hand, fist clenched, turning up palm up, like a magician about to reveal the hidden quarter. When he opened his hand, I knew what would be in it. I started to run even before I saw the vial of hellsbane potion. I was three-quarters of the way across the room when he turned the uncapped bottle upside down. The potion spilled onto the floorboards.
My body hit his, slamming him into the wall. I snatched the bottle from him, but it was empty.
Dachev grabbed my arm and threw me down. As I fell, I tried to snag his leg and pull him off balance, but missed. I hit the floor hard with him on top of me. I tried to roll out from under him, but he had his full weight on me.
“Don’t struggle, pretty one,” he murmured. “Struggling only makes it hurt more. I’m so sorry about your potion. But I have a present for you. Something to replace it.”
Still atop me, he reached down into his pocket, took something out, then brought it up to my face. It was one of the other man’s chiseled stone knives.
“I think we’ll have fun with this,” he said. “Much more fun than we’d have with your potion.”
I started to cast a binding spell. The moment the first words left my mouth, his eyes widened, with confusion, then fury. I saw my mistake, and tried to rush through the incantation. His fist slammed into my cheek. Bone crackled and a tooth pinged into my throat. I wheezed a cough and the tooth flew out on a string of spittle. I started to cast again, but Dachev slammed his hand down on my throat.
“A witch?” he snarled, bringing his face to mine. “So that is what I recognized. You didn’t care to enlighten me. You didn’t dare, did you?”
Again, I tried to push him off, but he had me perfectly pinned, so I couldn’t do more than glance awkward blows off his back.
“Do you think I don’t know how to hold you, witch?” he said. “At my trial, some thought I used a sedative on my victims. Others believed I knocked them unconscious. But I didn’t. What is the pleasure in cutting an unfeeling carcass?”
I narrowed my eyes, hoping to summon some bit of my Aspicio powers and blind him.
“Don’t give me that look, witch,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t shock you. I can see it in your eyes. You remind me of her, you know. My Nix.”
He lifted the knife. “That’s not to say I’ll spare you. After all, she did betray me. I forgive her. But that doesn’t keep me from imagining how I’d like to betray her. Love and hate. The same impulse, the same passion.”
I flicked my fingers in a knock-back spell, managing to gasp the single word needed to cast the sorcerer spell. Nothing happened.
“Useless without your spells, aren’t you, witch?” He smiled. “Well, without your spells and your kicks and your punches. You do know how to fight. None of my other victims did. Quite disappointing.”
I started to narrow my eyes again, to retry blinding him, then stopped myself. Give it up and stick with what will work. I had to choose carefully, though. The more powerful the spell, the more spell-power it required. If I cast something big and it didn’t incapacitate him, I’d be screwed—unable to cast anything stronger than a cover spell. I emptied my brain and began the mental preparation for a high-level witch spell.
Dachev continued, “I think I will let you fight. But first, I should let you know what fate you are fighting. We’ll start with a sampling. Nothing too disabling. Not an arm or a leg. Perhaps a finger or two? No. That might still impede you, and give me unfair advantage. Let’s say an ear. Or perhaps the nose. Yes, that’s it. I’ll cut off your ear or split open your nose.” He leaned into my face, lips pulling back from his teeth as he smiled. “Your choice.”
I feigned struggling, to buy more time to prep the spell. Dachev pinned me easily.
“Enough of that,” he said. “If you don’t choose, and choose quickly, I’ll do both.”
I mouthed something.
He frowned. “What was that?”
Again, I opened my mouth, as if struggling to speak, but only a choked gasp came out.
He eased back on my throat. Mouth slightly open, I whispered a few words of the incantation, but knew I didn’t have enough time to finish.
“Ear,” I said. “Take my ear.”
I managed to get out another line before his arm clamped down on my throat again. I closed my eyes as the knife went to my ear. The blade sliced into the tender skin between my earlobe and my face, and began cutting up, through the soft lobe. When he hit cartilage, he shifted forward for a better cutting angle. As he did, the pressure lessened on my throat, and I managed to whisper the last line of the incantation.
Dachev screamed, an eardrum-piercing wail. I shot out from under him and leapt up. He stayed on the floor, doubled up, screaming as if his guts were on fire. Which they were. I’d used a fireball spell, conjuring the same simple, nearly useless fireball that Paige used. With one important difference. This fireball was conjured in the belly of the target, producing a few moments of blistering agony, followed by a quick death. Unless you were already dead, that is.
Dachev rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach. I walked over to him, bent down, and snatched the knife from his hand.
“If you can hear me, it’ll be over in a minute,” I said. “The fire, that is. The burning, well, that’ll take a while to heal.” I leaned over him and smiled down. “In the meantime, you’ll need plenty of bed rest. I think I can help with that.”
I knelt behind Dachev. I grabbed his leg with one hand, the knife in the other, preparing to cut his ham-strings. If I was stuck here until someone rescued me, I damned well wasn’t giving Dachev any chance of pay-back. As he writhed and screamed, in too much pain to try to escape—or even know what I was doing—I cut away his pant leg.
“What did it do to him?” asked a voice behind me.
The club-man stood in the doorway, weapon in hand. He stared at Dachev, baby-smooth brow wrinkling. His gaze turned to me, and he smiled, showing off an orthodontist’s wet dream worth of crooked teeth.
“I thought it was gone,” he said as he stepped into the room, club thumping against his leg.
“Maybe it stayed to play.” The knife-man walked in, a homemade blade in each hand. “Does it want to play some more?”
Still gripping the knife, I leapt to my feet.
“Do you see how I play?” I said, waving at Dachev, who was still moaning and writhing. “I don’t think I’m the kind of playmate you’re looking for. But if you both leave now, I’ll forget I saw you and—”
The club-man rushed me. I cast a binding spell, but my powers were too weakened, and it only trapped him for a split second before he broke free. Right behind him came the knife-man, the werewolf, and a redhead I hadn’t seen earlier. Another shadow slid in through the door, but I didn’t stay to see who it was.
I wheeled, ran, and smashed headfirst through the window. Quite the dramatic exit…though I’d rather not have been exiting at all. As much as I hated running away, I’d had enough practice rounds with these guys earlier to know I couldn’t stave them off for long in a fight, not without any spell-power. Better to get my ass back in those woods until I figured out how I was getting it back to my dimension.
As I tore around to the back of the house, running footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. Knife-guy was already out. He swung back his arm…and I ran smack into a giant air-bag.
As I stumbled back, I caught sight of my air-bag obstacle—a man with three chins and a gut that could house a full-term pregnancy.
“Going somewhere?” he rumbled.
A blade sank into my shoulder blade. I twisted and kicked the knife-man off my back. The big guy grabbed me by the shoulders. I wriggled out of his grasp, and danced away…only to find myself surrounded. Even the bird-man had now joined the group, vines still dangling from his wrists, flat gray eyes simmering with fury.
“Six against one?” I said. “Now, that’s hardly fair. Tell you what, you guys pick a champion, and the rest of you just sit back—”
Bird-man, the werewolf, and the big guy all ran at me. I whirled out of the way, but the others closed in to block my escape routes. I looked around, found the clearest spot, then dove for it, casting a cover spell as I flew.
When I hit the ground, I vanished. Again, everyone stopped to stare in momentary confusion. Before they could recover, I sprang to my feet and ran for the forest.