Magic Rising (11 page)

Funerals took place fast here, unless they were after the victim’s soul. Warriors were taken to a clearing an hour’s hike from the building. There in the middle of greenery and life, they had the service for Scorpion. Because of Dragonfly’s disgrace, she wasn’t permitted near the body, only watching from the side, hoping the wind would carry her goodbyes to her mother. Mercury lit the fire and the linen-wrapped body burned.

* * * *

Deirdre shook away the memory but it was hard with the smell of smoke and soot clinging to the air around her. Her mother hadn’t been wrapped in that linen. She just found her mother’s body upstairs. Something in her mind’s eye was mistaken but why would her mother fake her death? Who had they burned and how did Scorpion fool the leaders?

She thought back to the look on her mother’s face. Maybe she hadn’t been afraid of Mercury. She might’ve been afraid of the plan they were about to enact. She might have been afraid for her daughter.

The cool stone surrounding her brought a terrible chill. She longed for sunlight, for warmth, and fresh air, not the dappled red from the stained glass coloring her skin like memories of blood.

She went to the exercise yard. It was no longer the immense landscape of manicured grass with stone benches rising on the surrounding land, or dangerous sports arena where so many watched to see who would be killed next. Now it reminded her of a badly tended park. Weeds grew tall, knee high in places, waist high along the edges. Most of the benches were broken and those that weren’t held strange growths that marred the surface in fuzzy green and black mold.

The hill called to her and she found her old seat. The bench remained whole and she eased onto it, testing it against her weight. There she looked down, as she’d done the day her mother had died.

Dragonfly had caused her mother’s death. If she’d known what would’ve happened, Dragonfly would’ve killed that politician and spit on his body. She didn’t know though. She was a young teenager and didn’t want to commit murder. The love of life wasn’t tolerated at Stone House.

There were no time-outs here. Punishment meant pain and sometimes death. They’d intended horrible things for her. The infraction was so terrible that they ordered a bloodline family member to carry out the sentence. Her own mother was ordered to hurt her.

Normally Niam or a higher leader would punish Dragonfly. Niam usually volunteered, but those occasions were carried out in private instead of in front of everyone. Punishments were usually performed in the basement. There were devices for reprimands, supposedly because the leaders took no pleasure in the act. She had her doubts. Twice she’d been down there for punishment and both times the leaders had watched. They’d smiled while lashing her back or hanging her from the ceiling by her arms that were bound from behind.

The last time she defied them, punishment was ordered and it was to be severe. She had to be made an example of and Scorpion had been ordered to do it. Dragonfly remembered them heating the oil and stripping away her clothing. They shackled her, naked, above a metal grate while a pot of boiling oil brewed above her. Scorpion was to pull the lever and release the oil. Dragonfly would’ve been scarred, if she survived. The last to be punished this way died, his hair melted, and he begged for mercy until succumbing to the pain of skin peeling away from the muscle, and the muscle from the bone. Scorpion didn’t have the heart for such a sin and that moment had caused Contrition.

Deirdre had cost Scorpion so much. She only told her mother that she loved her once in a great while, when no one could hear. The last time, they’d been walking in the garden. The two of them hadn’t been fighters only mother and daughter. Those moments were few and precious.

A noise to the side of the building broke her thoughts, shattered them like glass as footfalls approached. Instinctively, she rolled backwards, behind the bench and into the thick waist-high weeds.

She stayed low, knowing that an intruder would do a visual for anything out of place and then cue in their senses. After a survey of the area, their minds and bodies would relax, giving her an opportunity to escape. The trick was keeping completely hidden.

Deirdre cleared her mind. For a few moments she existed as weeds, trees, wind, and nature. She felt nothing, only existed as one with what belonged here. Her breathing slowed, her thoughts ceased. She felt nothing more than that of a blade of grass. In this way she could remain hidden from his senses as well as his line of sight.

She heard footsteps somewhere down the hill. She didn’t react to these, only waited. A digital beep cut through the silence. It wasn’t a cell phone in this place, probably a two way radio. She couldn’t hear whoever called out, but she heard the man’s voice who answered. He was down in the exercise field. As he spoke, she knew who had ventured here. The voice haunted her, from childhood to now.

“I can’t find the girl. She’s still here somewhere. Her car is still at the side of the building. I’d bet anything that we’re dealing with Dragonfly. Be on the lookout. You can injure her but do not kill. I repeat. I want Dragonfly alive.”

Deirdre knew Niam’s voice. His name had been Midnight. He’d been one of the leaders and trainers in Stone House. She only knew his real name because he had to use it to register for competitions.

She eased from her hiding placing, rising up enough to catch a glimpse. He hadn’t changed much. He was a tall man, muscular but lean. The name Midnight came from his long black hair and eyes such a dark brown that they looked black from a distance.

His long hair was bound, but no shorter. She couldn’t tell if he still wore the long silver earring but he had continued to dress in solid black. He kept his arms covered now, hiding the tribal tattoos.

Midnight was an evil bastard. He was twenty years older than she, but he looked preserved, untouched by time. She sat lower, waiting, not wanting to fight him. He’d been her full time trainer from the age of ten, until she escaped at sixteen. Not a class went by that she hadn’t tried to remove his head from his shoulders.

She had been the youngest to achieve what they called High Status. Midnight came down on her hard, never letting up. Every class was a challenge for her to get through without a broken bone or laceration.

In some ways she’d been grateful for his hatred toward her. Midnight was notorious for dating his students. He usually had two women every night. They were of age, at least for Stone House. Seventeen meant they were old enough to breed more members. The leaders preferred rearing children there because children accepted whatever circumstance they were born into. They kept no recollection of the rest of the world or what was allowed by society.

Reality had been purely of their creation. She’d been as blind as the rest, assuming that their treatment of her was standard. All that changed during the meets. She saw parents hugging their children, people celebrating a good performance even when a child had lost. She saw love.

As a child, she secretly wondered if she were evil, something unacceptable. The worry never left her, even as an adult. It grew worse knowing that her mother had left, faking her death and leaving Dragonfly to the whims of the staff.

Was I ever deserving of love?

She wished things had been different. There were those born into light and hope, but not her. She glanced at her black clothes, then looked at the crumbling building. That thing had tainted her beyond salvation.

Deirdre stayed on her haunches, waiting with her head ducked out of sight. She might be able to take down Niam. He held such an air of superiority that even now, she feared the competition.

What if the rumors were true? What if he really had those powers?
She didn’t want to think about it.

Too much time passed before Niam left, walking slowly as if he sensed her near. He always performed like a superior warrior. She witnessed some magnificent displays that convinced her young mind that the leaders were capable of super-human abilities. Now, her sight was changed. She was no longer so naïve that she would believe a light show or simple levitation. Magicians performed those everyday and only needed the help of a lovely assistant instead of a room of blood.

He can’t hurt me. Their magic couldn’t have been real.

She rose, moving quickly around the building. There was no sign of Niam but she felt him. Evil clung wherever he went, hanging on the air like some thick smog that made it harder to breathe.

At the corner, she thought she would find an easy escape until she saw her car. There he stood, leaning on the hood while instructing some very large, very bad looking men. As she studied them, she noticed the zits, the young gawking expressions. These weren’t even men, but some very large version of teenagers.

Her heart sank as she watched them. Another group must’ve formed after Stone House burned. These couldn’t have been born into a cult, but brought in later. Odds were their skill level would be low.

Why would anyone want to live like that?
She often wondered why her mother had brought her into such circumstance. Most of the sad wanderers who ended up at Stone House were rejects of society, willing to do anything for purpose or just to belong. Some had chemical imbalances causing mental disorders, a few were abused runaways, and all were welcome. All could have a purpose, even if that purpose was to die.

It was horrible to think Niam had started a new group. She supposed if any of the leaders survived, they would try again to form a perfect religion, a privately controlled force. Ambition doesn’t die with a building.

One of the teens left the group, walking toward her and the woods. This was her chance and she waited to take him. When he stepped around the corner, she reached from behind the inset of rock and grabbed him. The action was quick, one hand covering his mouth, bending his head low, while she pressed the painful area just behind his jaw. He didn’t have time to consider hitting her. The pain was fast and severe enough that he didn’t have the chance to struggle. His eyes scrunched, tears filled them. He had a low tolerance for pain. Obviously he hadn’t been trained very long.

Once she had his face toward the building, she pressed him against the stone. Deirdre kept her knee at the back of his legs to alleviate any chance of him breaking the hold and escaping. She caught a strange odor coming off of him. It wasn’t sweat, something foreign, meth she thought, but couldn’t be certain.

So that’s how Niam controlled the new crop. Drugs.

“Listen carefully. If you want to live, call in and tell them that you’ve seen a woman…no make it a girl running inside the building. Say the exact words.” She squeezed tighter. “Rehearse it now.”

“No I can’t.” He squealed under her grip. “The reverend will get angry.”

“Believe me. The reverend will know you were coerced. Now say it. You saw a girl running inside the building. Say it and I’ll let you live.”

“I saw a girl run inside the building.” His words weren’t clear from the pressure against his jaw.

“That’s it. Say no more, no less. If you say one word differently, you’ll die.”

He squirmed, testing her. It was one of the reasons she kept at his back, out of sight. She was small and seemingly easy to challenge. Underestimating her made things messy and she didn’t have time for messy. She also didn’t have his hands confined, which could prove dangerous if the kid had been properly trained.

With joint pressure, the pain could be exquisite, not intolerable and the longer she held it, the more his resistance would build. Thankfully, this was also one of those bulky boys who worked out with no purpose. His arms had little reach, and no agility. He couldn’t reach her from behind. In fact, she doubted he could properly walk with both arms by his side.

To ease his squirming, she raised her knee higher, pressing her thigh against his ass and bringing her knee between his legs. She caught his groin from behind, not enough to make him a soprano, but enough to make him gasp in discomfort. His struggles instantly ceased.

“You must be a new recruit. Usually Niam makes men adjust to this kind of pain.” She brought her knee tighter. “Now are you going to do as I ask?”

“Yes.”

“Do it now.” She kept her knee at his groin but eased on the jaw.

The teenager took the radio from his belt, speaking quickly. “I saw a girl run inside the building.”

The radio instantly went crazy. Niam came on, followed by another teenage voice. She didn’t let the kid say another word. With her knee still in place, she took the radio from his hand. The kid was scared or coming down from some ridiculous high. Beads of sweat dripped from his hairline, running in salty lines to his throat.

“You did well.” She paused, letting him have a moment of relief. “Thank you, and goodnight.” In one swift motion, she slammed his head into the rock in front of him. The boy stumbled for a moment, then dropped to his knees. He would be okay in a few hours but for now, he was out of the way.