David Wells - Cursed Bones

In retrospect, she should have known, she chided herself. Of course Zuhl would have a contingency plan, of course he would never allow the dragons he’d controlled for so long to roam free.

Ixabrax landed amid the lifeless ash of his family, falling silent and still. Abigail held her breath. Magda was moving toward Anatoly, but otherwise, the place was as still as a tomb.

“What have I done?” Ixabrax said. “My whole family … dead.”

“You didn’t do this. Zuhl did,” Abigail said.

Quicker than a cat, Ixabrax reached around, snatched her off his back and tossed her into the snow. Pain exploded from her leg. She gasped, tried to scream but couldn’t. She rolled to a stop and lay still, gathering her wits and struggling to focus her mind on the angry dragon instead of on her broken leg.

“Listen well, Human,” Ixabrax said. “Our business is done. You have failed to deliver my family and so my obligations to you end here. Do not seek me out again.” His anger melted into sadness as if he’d forgotten Abigail’s very existence and all that was left surrounding him were the remains of his family. With a howl of anguish, Ixabrax launched into the sky, turning north, away from Zuhl, away from his past … and away from humanity.

“Trajan, you have to come out of there for this to work,” Isabel said, standing in the hallway leading to the crystal chamber. Ayela and Hazel, both bound and gagged, were each sitting in the center of one chamber, though Hazel, in Ayela’s body, was struggling mightily to squirm out of the circle.

“She’s trying to get free again,” Trajan said.

“I know. Let one of your men handle it so they can use that thing and make this right,” Isabel said. “As long as you and that bone are anywhere near this room, it won’t work.”

Trajan looked down at the femur he’d taken from the chamber. The bone was solid and sturdy with a large knot on each end, perfect for use as a club. He’d wrapped a leather thong around the end with the smaller knot. Isabel had selected a finger bone and tied a thong around it to make a necklace, concealing it underneath her tunic.

Trajan nodded and followed Isabel into the passage.

“All right, Hector, we should be far enough away,” she said.

It had taken days for Trajan’s men to dig them free of the Goiri’s crypt, but they worked methodically with the air of men who knew that they were working toward a successful outcome. Isabel and Trajan spent a lot of time talking during those days. He was furious about the Sin’Rath and vowed to hunt them to extinction, exactly the reaction Isabel had hoped for.

After significant convincing, he accepted that his sister was living within an old woman’s body and spent some time threatening Hazel with a variety of very painful ways to die. Hazel was, of course, gagged and bound, so it was a very one-sided conversation.

There were a number of smaller rooms at even intervals surrounding the main chamber where the Goiri had died, all accessible through large archways. The remains of furniture, glassware, and books littered the floors, but it looked as if the whole place had been destroyed in a mad rage a long time ago.

Isabel had gone to one room after the next, peering inside, hoping to find something useful and being disappointed, until she came to a very unusual room. It was rectangular, longer than it was wide. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of stone in the first part of the room but gradually transformed into crystal shot through with gold near the far end. A low bench ran the width of the room along the far wall, carved from the same crystal and gold as the rest of that end of the room, with a large crystal bowl in the center of the bench. She peered into the bowl, expecting to find some kind of treasure, but found only dust. Still the room caught her imagination and set her mind to wondering.

During the days that Trajan’s men worked to dig them free, Isabel found ample time to read the two spellbooks she’d taken from Hazel.

The charm spell was powerful and insidious, relying not on anger or love for the distracting emotion, but hate. At first, Isabel was surprised and confused by the nature of the spell, but soon came to understand the level of contempt toward another person one must feel in order to deprive them of their free will through such magic. That kind of contempt could only be the product of hate. Isabel got the impression that this charm spell was a variation of a more basic spell, one that relied on love, but she couldn’t be sure. In any event, she didn’t think she’d be making use of this spell anytime soon.

The shapeshift spell was another matter. It could be powered by either love or anger and it had a wide range of applications. Changing into something of similar weight and size was the most basic form of the spell, allowing the caster to assume another person’s appearance, but the spell was much more potent for witches with the power and talent to make use of it. A High Witch could transform into a creature or object a hundred times her size or a hundred times smaller. At that level, the shapeshift spell became incredibly versatile. Isabel spent most of her time studying the spell, though she couldn’t actually learn it since the Goiri bones prevented her from practicing. That didn’t stop her from committing the spell to memory so she could practice it when she had the chance.

After they’d freed themselves from the Goiri’s crypt, they went straight to the crystal chamber. Hazel resisted, of course, so two of Trajan’s men had to bodily carry her. The same two tied a rope under her knees and looped it behind her neck. With her hands tied behind her back, she was unable to move out of the magic circle.

Hector pushed the large emerald in the center of the panel. Nothing happened.

Several seconds passed before the crystal began to glow, increasing in intensity very quickly, until it was so bright that even Isabel and Trajan down the hall were blinded.

The light subsided as quickly as it had come, plunging the chamber into relative darkness with only two torches for light.

Isabel approached Ayela and untied her legs, then removed her gag. “Convince me,” she said.

Ayela proceeded to answer questions from both Isabel and Trajan for several minutes until both were satisfied that she was herself again. Hector stood back and watched until the verdict was determined, then roughly picked Hazel up and tossed her frail old body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“It’s time,” he said, handing Ayela Hazel’s bag of potions and powders.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Isabel asked.

For some reason she was torn. She knew at a very fundamental level that working with the darkness, even in the smallest way, always had a downside, but … for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she wanted to see the ghidora summoned, she wanted Hector to send it to kill Phane. Even if he survived the attack, it was an attack that he just about had to meet in person. The satisfaction of bringing the war to his doorstep was very alluring. For far too long, he’d sent his minions after them. The chance to retaliate in kind was compelling. Yet … where darkness was involved … darkness was involved.

“Yes.”

“It could have consequences,” Isabel said.

“I know,” Hector said, stepping around her as he carried Hazel toward the black-and-white room.

Isabel followed him, trying to come up with an argument that might reach him, some string of words that would change the loss he felt or undo his implacable need for vengeance. Nothing came to her. Hazel deserved to die, but Isabel was far more worried about the consequences of involving a demon in the process.