The Garnet Dagger (6 page)

Pushing back, I rose and gazed at her. Liquid grey eyes like stone stared back at me.

“Healed?” Did she not realize I drained her?

Glancing over her, she seemed unharmed. Tattered brown robe hung on her frame. Her cheeks hollow, made me yearn to give her food and see her well.

“My gift’s healing.” She tilted her head examining me. “But only others. Know a spell for transferring souls, but I like my body.”

“You’re a witch?” Perhaps she was the one. I remembered the dagger in my boot. Even if she wasn’t, I could force the lock with the blade.

“Does it surprise you?” She dusted her hands off on her robe. “But alas, nay, I’m no witch or I’d bring this place down with my power and escape. I’m Celeste.”

“Brock.” I could not explain, but I wanted to keep her talking. Wanted to know all about her. Was it her touch or my curse that made me long to know her thoughts? “Why are you here?”

“My mother was tortured. Burned as a witch. They even dug up Grandmother’s body from the churchyard. Our property was seized when Father Morgan declared her a witch too.” As though seeing my question she continued. “Two months before my twelfth birthday. Been in this prison ever since. Law here says a witch cannot be killed until she turns eighteen. For me, my death will come this year with the May flowers.”

Reaching into my boot, I removed the dagger. She was older than the prophecy, but she was unmarried, with any luck pure, and I had little chance that she was the one. For a moment, I paused with my fingers touching the edge of the handle. Would I be able to kill her now if she was the one? I hardened my heart. If she was, then I’d complete my duty. I’d make her death quick so she would not suffer. I removed the dagger. Better get this over with.

“Think you can use this to unlock us?” I asked holding out the blade.

Her eyes widened. She held out her hand and I placed the handle in her palm. The gem flickered, but then faded.

My heart crushed against my chest in a mixture of relief and disappointment. Her gift perhaps had triggered the gem, but she was not the witch I sought.

“Give me back the dagger.” With a sigh, I dusted off my tunic. Time I unlocked this cage and was on my way. I could not afford to get too involved with these humans. Especially not to a beautiful one who needed more flesh on her bones.

“You gave it to me of your own free will. Now, it’s mine.”

Grumbling, I strode the step between us and she jumped back. Taking advantage of my height, I stared down at her. “I must leave, I’m on a mission.”

“Take me with you.”

I shook my head.

“Do you know what he does to people?” She shivered. “Years I’ve spent watching people die. Seen more death than a hundred battles. Screams I can never rid my mind of.

“Ghosts of this place haunt me. I thought if I showed him my gift, he’d release me.” She had a hard faraway look. “But Morgan had other ideas. Made me heal his victims so he could torture them again and again. Sometimes he left them out of my reach and I watched the life fade from them.”

“I’m sorry, but I must leave this place. My people need me to complete my quest.” Impossible, she would slow me down.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned from me and rushed to a straw mattress on the far wall. She stuffed the dagger among the straw.

“Wha — ?”

The door flew open and pounded against the stone wall. Father Morgan stood in the doorway.

“Knew if I left long enough, you’d be unable to resist. Dead by nightfall? I think not.”

Four monks crept inside behind him.

He kicked the door closed and one of the others slid the bolt into place.

“Tell me his power, Celeste, and I may spare you.”

Silence answered him.

If I had the dagger, I could escape. Damn her for keeping the blade.

“To the rack with him,” Father Morgan said.

Hands gripped my arms. A monk bent over to grasp my feet. I swung my leg forward catching the monk on his chin. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed.

Gasps sounded.

“Fear not, God is with us. Remove his boots. And strap him to the rack.” Father Morgan pushed aside the fallen man.

The other monks were strong. Even though I struggled, my full strength had not yet returned. I strained my arms and legs to draw the life force from them, but nothing happened. I managed to wrestle one arm free and I punched one of the monks in the jaw. He stumbled back, but even as his eyes watered, he gripped my arm again.

Holding me down, they removed my boots. The coin pouch clinked onto the stone floor and they handed the coins to Father Morgan.

Then I was dragged to a wooden table.

Struggling, they bound first my right hand with leather straps. Wrung my other hand backwards across the table and locked it into place with a second set of straps.

Off balance, I landed with a thump on the table. Before I took a breath, they had my feet bound as well.

Father Morgan’s blotchy face peered into mine. “Tell me everything and I’ll spare you.”

Turning my head away, I refused to answer. Saw Celeste with her hands over her ears and hunched into a ball on her pile of straw.

A creak sounded and I realized wheels turned wrenching my arms and legs apart. My back arched against the pain as the wheel continued to rotate.

When the creaking ceased, my muscles screamed and shook under the strain.

“Lock the wheel.” Father Morgan leaned over me again. “Some have wet themselves just hearing the wheels turn. Tell me what you are, and why you’re here.”

Through my muscle spasms I clenched my teeth. “Feels like a massage. Got anything stronger?”

His fist struck my jaw. “Lower the spikes.”

Above me I saw iron stakes, three inches long and one inch wide.

Rusted red from blood. Fanned out, obviously to avoid killing, wanting to maim.

I refused to make a sound. Heard the grinding of a wheel and watched the spikes lower. The points stopped a breath from me.

“Last chance. Tell me or these will drip your blood.”

“Pin pricks don’t scare me.”

I grunted as the plate was dropped. Spears punctured into my flesh. My arms, legs, and sides pulsed with each beat of my heart. Blood trickled down the table spattering on the stone floor.

Blackness spun around me. Damn the girl for taking my blade.

The creaking resonated through my ears as the plate was raised. My arm stuck to a pike, and one of the monks ripped my skin away as they pushed my arm down. Blood gushed from the wound.

However, his touch was brief and I did not have control over my power to drain him.

I strained to remember how to open my curse. But I only succeeded in making my head throb. The sunlight poured through the window and my eyes snapped shut.

One of the monks pulled back my head and yanked my eyelids open.

Then a magnet twisted and unfastened inside my mind. The monk’s face froze over mine. I heard Father Morgan debating the next torture to use on me.

But my senses sharpened on this monk with his hands upon my flesh.

Like a whirlwind, my body drained his essence. Felt my blood clot, skin meld together. Like a ravenous animal, I held him to me by his touch.

Blood oozed from his nose and still I devoured him.

Heard roaches scurry behind the walls. Tasted the rust and salted tears from all the victims in this place. His screams inside his head resembled no words.

In the distance, a monk cried out, “H-he’s killing him.”

“Get him loose,” Father Morgan shouted.

Another monk touched the dying one still frozen to me.

Unable to free him, he distractedly put one hand on my shoulder as leverage to haul the other monk away. Pressure funneled through to my new victim. His mouth widened in shock as his essence drained from him through the dying man and into me.

My strength returned. I heard another man scream. The door was unlocked and flung open. His screams continued down the stairs. The monk I had knocked unconscious earlier chased after the other.

Father Morgan raced to my weapons and dragged my sword forward. “Leave them be or I’ll remove your head.”

In answer, the two monks collapsed, dead to the floor. I struggled with the bonds, but I could not break free.

A whistle sounded, followed by a
thunk
. Strained to rise up, I saw Father Morgan crumple to his knees.

I shuddered at hearing a clanking sound; I thought the pikes lowered again.

But Celeste strode forward, her chain dragging behind her like a steel snake. Reaching Father Morgan, she knelt down and removed the garnet dagger from his back.

“We’ve no time.” Blood dripped from the blade. “Other monks will come.” She twisted the rope belt from the groaning Father Morgan. Keys clattered on the stone floor.

“You won’t get away from me,” he chuckled, “why didn’t you kill me? I know you want to. Why didn’t you show the Lord your true nature?

Ignoring his taunt, Celeste gripped the iron keys off and tried them one at a time until the lock on her ankle sprang open. Her metal chain discarded and the clank of the metal hitting the stone floor echoed.

She rushed to my side, used the dagger to slice apart my leather bonds.

Not waiting to say thanks, I jumped down from the table. Celeste raced to the far wall. With my dagger in one hand, she grasped my pack in the other.

Stomping on my boots, I heard shouts from below. “They’re coming.”

She nodded and I retrieved my bow, quiver, and scabbard. Felt better with my weapons now. I could hold off a dozen, maybe two. If I was at full health, I could fight as many as needed. How many monks were in this place?

After stuffing my cloak into my pack, I pushed back Father Morgan. The briefest whisper as my skin touched his and I almost vomited from the visions which poured through me.

This man had more victims and death than a thousand vampyres.

Grinding my teeth, I shoved him away. Saw my coin pouch beside him on the floor and snatched it up. She used the handle of the dagger against his skull and he fell over. I saw he still breathed. Why did she not kill him? I knew from battles that his wound in the back wasn’t life threatening.

Celeste rushed passed me towards the door. Her thin frame strained against the door and it closed. Then she slid the bolt into place.

“Why did you do that?” Grasped my sword I stared after her. “The windows barred. The door is the only way out.”

Her smile brought slight dimples to each side of her cheeks. “But I’ve made another window.” She ran to her straw mattress. Then she pushed aside the straw.

Along the edge of the wall, two stones with straw stuffed underneath them.

“To hide the light.” She answered my unspoken question. Scooped out the excess and tugged on the edges of the huge stone.

Clever. I’d thought of humans as being less intelligent than my kind. But doubted many of my people would have thought or taken the time needed to complete what she had done. Must have taken years.

“Move aside.” I wedged my sword underneath the stone. Wiggling the blade, the stone inched forward. I didn’t worry about breaking the sword, for was forged in Elvin fires.

As though confident in my ability, Celeste rounded up her rusty chain.

Heard footsteps come up the stairs as sweat beaded my brow.

Finally, I grasped the block’s edge and scooted it forward. Then the second stone was removed. She tossed her chain out the opening, the other end locked on the stone wall beside us. The ankle lock and chain stretched down one flight, but no more.

Even I doubted if I could make a jump that far down. Certain she would break her legs or her neck no less.

“Climb down first. I know the chain will hold me. If it breaks with you, come back for me.”

I nodded, but my mind raced. No way would I take her with me. My mission was to find the witch and kill her.

“You’ll need to stretch your arm when you reach the bottom. See the oak there?” She pointed and I saw her arm was so thin I could’ve circled it with my thumb and finger. “Swing a bit until you can grasp the branch.”

Surely she joked. The distance between them was a good leap through the air.

Pounding sounded against the door. I placed my sword in the scabbard. Shoved my bow and quiver into my pack, the point of my bow poked out the top.

With both hands, I grabbed the chain and eased my body passed the opening. Stone ground into my shoulders. Blowing out air, I wedged forward.

My joints cried as my legs hung over the opening, but my shoulders refused to budge. Rounding my shoulders, I angled one side up. With effort I wiggled free.

My hands clung to the chain. Hand over hand I worked my way down until I reached the opened lock which had kept Celeste bound. The oak tree stood away from me.

I released the chain and jumped to the closest branch. Heard Celeste’s gasp as I flew through the air. After I landed effortlessly on a thick branch, I flashed her a smile.

She shoved my pack through the opening which landed on the ground below. A few children gazed up at us, and I bowed, making them cheer.

Now Celeste’s bare feet stuck out of the opening. Within moments she was out and climbing down the chain. Her brown robes flapped in the breeze. If not for her rope belt, the gusts would drive the robes over her head.

Honor kept my eyes on her feet as she worked her way down.

As she reached the end of the chain and lock, I knew she would not make the leap. Jumping down, I hung from the outer edge of the tree limb by one hand. I stretched my free arm as far as I could toward her. As if she had no fear, she leapt through the air towards me.

I stretched out my hand farther and grasped her wrist as she swung towards me. Her shoulder jerked out of socket. My hand slipped and so I clamped down on her hand and fingers so as to not lose hold.

Cringing, I felt her fingers crack in my hand.

Helped her get a footing on the branch below me before I released her. Then I scampered down to the branch to her. Her arm hung at her side, her fingers swollen. We had no time to worry about her fingers now, but I could reset her shoulder at least.