Banished (35 page)

I give him the thousand-yard stare I’ve been practising in the mirror but he seems unfazed by it. He wraps his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back, making me bend backwards to
prevent him from snapping my neck. I refuse to cry out and instead I scrape the bottom of the barrel and come up with a laugh that sounds unhinged, even to my ears.

‘There is no place you will be able to hide,’ I promise him through bloody lips. ‘If I don’t get you, my family will. Do you know that if a Blackhart swears blood
vengeance the entire family is bound by that oath?’

‘After today, girl, your family will be lucky to survive. After today we make this decrepit world brand new.’ He stands up and nods to the scorpion. ‘Lock them up securely. We
don’t want any more heroics.’

I fight as much as I can against the scorpion’s grip as it drags me to the nearest cage. It’s mercifully empty of Istvan’s failed experiments. I’m tossed inside and a
moan escapes from me as my thigh crashes into one of the bars. Kieran is thrown in next and I try and catch him. He’s too heavy for me, but at least some of him hits me instead of the hard
floor. I hold on to him and check his pulse. It flutters weakly under my fingers and I peel his eyelids back. His pupils react to the light and I almost cry from relief.

The gate rattles and shuts behind me. I spin around and grab the bars, yelling, ‘How are you going to survive? If the Elder Gods are destroying the world, how will you survive?’

The scorpion launches a kick at the bars and I whip my hands away. ‘And you?’ I say to it. ‘Do you think that thing will let you live?’

It makes a sound that sounds suspiciously like a fart and leaves the room through the open doorway. I recoil from the stench and sit back against the bars.

The pain in my leg is so bad now I find myself doing puffy-breathing to try and control it. I feel as if I’m on fire on the inside.

‘Kit?’

‘Yes?’ I grind out.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Not . . . really.’ I crawl past Kieran so I can get to the other side of the cage. I can just see Thorn. He’s still trying to squirm out of the chains binding him to the rock.
I draw in a deep breath and speak again. ‘I don’t know if the poison is fatal.’

‘In a high enough dosage, yes. He stung you only once.’ He shakes his head and stares at me through strands of damp hair. ‘I am so angry with you. Why did you come here? By
yourself? Why not bring the army with you?’

I pant out a laugh and spit out some blood. ‘Well, I wanted all the glory for myself,’ I tell him. ‘I thought I’d walk in, beat up the insane sorcerer, throw you over my
shoulder and carry you home.’

That gets a chuckle from him and I grin. ‘You are insane,’ he says. ‘Did you bring anyone else with you?’

‘No. They were all more interested in arguing than listening to me, so I left. I’m sure we’ll be saved any second now.’ I raise my voice, hoping that the scorpion hybrid
or Istvan or anyone else is listening and will let us go. ‘Any. Second. Now.’

Kieran lets out a groan and moves feebly at my feet. I push myself away from the bars and kneel next to him. ‘Kieran? Can you hear me?’

‘Who . . . ?’ he mutters, trying to get a fix on my face. I move around so he can see me properly.

‘I’m Kit,’ I say. ‘I’m a Blackhart.’

‘Great,’ he says, his voice raw. ‘I’m not dressed to meet pretty girls.’ When he coughs, he coughs up blood but he waves me away as I try and wipe his chin.
‘Thorn?’

‘Is still alive. Tied up like a turkey, though.’

‘Help me . . .’

I help him sit upright and he leans back against me.

‘Thorn?’ he calls roughly.

‘Kieran?’

‘Don’t do this,’ he says. ‘Don’t . . .’

‘Kieran!’ Thorn leans forward against his chains, peering at us from across the room. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Give me a moment.’ He closes his eyes as he gathers himself. I lean against the bars, letting my breathing get back to normal and watch. There’s a soft shimmer in the air and
a light brush of magic that rolls gently over me.

He’s healing himself, I realize, leaning closer, intrigued by the way his colour returns to normal. His breathing seems less laboured too and he flexes the arm that hung useless only a few
moments ago.

‘Kieran,’ Thorn says, pulling against his bindings. ‘You have to take Kit and get away. When the ritual starts, things will go downhill fast.’

‘I’m sorry to tell you this, little brother, but I don’t think young Kit here is planning on running. Neither am I.’ He draws in a steadying breath. ‘I almost feel
ready for one of mother’s dreadful parties.’

Thorn actually growls at him in frustration. ‘It’s not safe here, Kieran.’

I edge away from Kieran, making sure he can sit by himself. I’m back by the gate to see if I can figure out how to get the lock open. It’s an ugly thing, big and old. It takes a
normal, if large, key. I grip it and rattle it against the bars. It seems solid enough.

I push my magic through my fingers and coax it into the lock. The tumblers are a bit rusty, but they look sturdy enough. What did I have on me to help me? I take a catalogue of everything
I’m carrying. Shoes, laces, socks, jeans, belt, T-shirt. There has to be . . . I squirm as much as I can and bite back a yelp of pain as I press against the sting in my leg.

‘I think your girlfriend is getting undressed,’ Kieran tells Thorn. ‘Pity you can’t see.’

I laugh. ‘Sorry to disappoint you. I’m just taking my belt off.’

‘Oh?’ he says, sounding intrigued.

‘What are you doing?’ Thorn hisses. ‘I can hear more noise from outside.’ He’s right. I can hear the sound of the huge kettledrums. The volume of droning has also
increased. I don’t know much about evil magics and spells to bring back ancient gods, but something tells me that whatever is going to happen will be happening soon.

‘Ah, that would be the thousands of slaves he’s got building energy in the amphitheatre outside.’ I brandish my belt in relief and examine the pin. It might just do the trick.
Breaking and entering has never been my strong suit and I suddenly wish I had Megan’s delicate touch, but if wishes were something . . . horses? What a stupid saying.

I push my arms through the bars and grip the lock tightly. I close my eyes and focus all my attention on my fingertips and guide the pin into the keyhole, using my magic to see where it’s
going.

All of eternity passes and I hardly breathe. My arms burn with strain and my head is pounding from a headache that feels as if I’ve been to an all-night party and drunk
all the alcohol.

I feel Kieran’s fingers press warningly against my side as the scorpion scuttles into the room. It doesn’t even look at us.

Instead it’s there for Thorn. It swiftly removes the set of iron manacles keeping Thorn bound to the plinth. I hold my breath, hoping that Thorn will have his chance to get free, but no
such luck. It grips Thorn’s arms in one huge hand and clamps the irons back around his wrists. When Thorn tries to pull free, it cuffs him around the head and pushes him past us, and out of
the doorway, manhandling him with ease.

The
snick
of the padlock opening is the most beautiful sound in the world, right then. I sag with relief and slowly unhook it, carefully placing it on the floor inside the cage. I press
against the door and it creaks open.

‘If I can get out of here,’ Kieran says softly, ‘into the amphitheatre, I think I’ll be able to help.’

‘In what way?’ I ask him as I push the gate open further. ‘There are about thirty guards out there.’

‘I can draw on the energy they are generating but I have to be in the same place, with them.’ He draws a breath. ‘There is a spell I can try to cast. It’s not something
I’d try under normal circumstances.’

‘What does this spell do, exactly?’ I know I sound wary but it’s because I know spells cast by someone who’s not in full health can go very badly wrong. Helena’s
diary mentioned that much at least.

‘That lot out there are already pretty wound up. The spell I want to try will redirect their own energy back at themselves. They should start to snap out of whatever trance they’re
in, see where they are and try to escape. The spell works on their emotions and the stronger the emotions, the wilder the need to get away will be. With luck, it will distract them all enough for
you to rescue Thorn.’

‘How will I not get these delusions?’

‘Illusions,’ he corrects me, straightening with difficulty. ‘If you stay behind me, you should be fine. I will be projecting it towards them, away from us.’

I’m not sure I’m happy with this but I nod and help him limp further. I grind my teeth as pain flares in my leg and I can actually feel the pain and poison pulse upwards. The pain
drives some of my doubt from my mind. I’m not entirely sure whether Kieran’s planning will work. The shape of the amphitheatre doesn’t really lend itself to projecting in only one
direction.

‘Allow me to help,’ he says, leaning forward before I can stop him. His hands hover just above my thigh, cupping my leg. It’s the same kind of heat I remember from when Olga
healed my muscle ache. ‘I can’t do anything about the poison in your system, but this bit of healing will help with the pain.’

‘Thank you,’ I say with genuine gratitude. I test out my leg and although it’s still pretty sore, it’s no longer the only thing I can think about.

‘Weapons?’ Kieran asks after a few painful paces towards the doorway. ‘We have none.’

I leave him leaning against the wall and hobble back to find my sword and knife. I hold both out to him and he takes hold of the sword.

‘Nice blade,’ he says. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes. Before me it belonged to one of my great-aunts.’

‘I’ll try not to break it.’

We grin at each other and hobble through the doorway and down the narrow passage. The heat here is incredible and within seconds I have sweat pouring off my face. The voices are loud now and the
sound of the drums reverberating through the cavern is ear-achingly loud. I can’t see much; the dais is off to our right but I can see the bound slaves and their guards.

I leave Kieran leaning against the wall and creep forwards on my knees.

The huge slab of stone dominates the stage, easily twenty feet high and maybe nine across. From this close, I can see that there are countless runes carved on the stone. I recognize a few: the
one that means ‘ox’ for strength and the weird triangle one with longer points at the bottom that means ‘fate’. The others make my eyes hurt the longer I stare at them. The
entire centre has the sheen of mercury with the light from the lanterns and braziers placed around the amphitheatre.

Istvan has changed out of his robes and now wears another flowing garment: this one the colour of early-morning mist. It floats around him and I’m horrified to see ghostly faces with open
mouths press against the fabric. It roils unpleasantly and changes colour, from a dark grey to black, then grey again.

Thorn is standing before the great stone pillar, his arms and legs stretched wide by an iron chain anchored to two tall wooden pillars so that he’s effectively forming an X shape.
He’s still wearing the weird iron collar. On a raised plinth in front of him there’s a wide shallow copper bowl that doesn’t look like it’s held a bit of salad in all its
life. The world’s biggest sword rests in a cradle right in front of the stone slab.

I turn back to Kieran to find him kneeling next to me. His colour is better and he gives me an encouraging nod. I help him stand up and while everyone’s attention is focused on Istvan as
he moves to stand in the centre of the dais, I help Kieran into the amphitheatre, keeping to the pools of shadow created by the staggered positions of the torches.

‘Go help my brother,’ he says, pressing his lips close to my ear.

I give his arm a squeeze and steal towards the dais, hunkering down, firmly ignoring the pain in my leg. Behind me the chanting has increased in volume but I have no trouble hearing
Istvan’s thunderous voice. He’s speaking in a language that sounds as old as time and it makes my bones ache with fatigue.

When did it get this hot in here? I tug at the neck of my T-shirt and fight the urge to close my eyes. My heart thuds against my aching ribs in time with the cacophony of the drums. Panic wraps
itself around me and all I want to do is run and run and never ever stop.

But instead I creep backwards, back towards the doorway that leads to the chamber. If I lock myself back in the cage, I’ll be fine, I tell myself. Or maybe even if I leave the complex
completely, climb back up the walls and get to the top of the plateau and find the coracle and make my way back across the lake, it will be even better. Safer.

I nod to myself, aware that I’m in danger of whispering anxiously, repeating ‘must get away, must get away’ just under my breath. I’m in the passage and I turn to run
(limp fast) but I’m brought up short in my escape by hobbling full tilt into the scorpion. Holding onto my sanity and pinning down my fear, I shift and duck as it grabs at me. I make it only
a few paces away when two redcaps appear at the far end of the corridor. Their expressions of surprise would’ve been funny had I not been this scared.

I look around the narrow passage, wondering how to evade them, and then how to get outside into the fresh air and away from this place. The scorpion doesn’t bother thinking any of this.
Instead, it picks me up and throws me bodily at the two redcaps. I manage to twist and curl into a ball, using my momentum to knock one of them down. It bounces, hard, lets out a groan and lies
still. I land badly and roll off him, feeling faint with pain. I stand with difficulty and face the remaining creature. I’ve managed to keep hold of my knife and I reverse the blade against
the length of my arm and close with the remaining redcap. Its bulging eyes widen in surprise at my audacity and it throws a low blow that hits me in the lower ribs, just as I slice the blade across
its forehead. A gush of blood drops into its eyes and it staggers away, desperately trying to clear its eyes. The pain in my midriff, combined with the throbbing in my leg, brings me back to
reality. Kieran’s spell has somehow managed to drag me into its net, despite his assurances. With a muttered curse, I spin and hobble towards the scorpion chimera as it makes for the door
leading into the amphitheatre.