Anne Bishop - Tangled Webs

“What door?” Rainier asked.

She looked at the end of the hallway. “The door that’s no longer there.”

“Hell’s fire,” Rainier muttered. “What’s going on here? And where are Jaenelle and Marian?”

She shook her head, then took a step closer to the body. Was that…? Yes. There was a folded piece of paper tucked between the dead caretaker’s thigh and hand. Naturally it was between the body parts farthest from the door.

She reached in, pulled the paper free, shook off a couple of maggots, and then stepped back, closing the door to cut down on the smell.

“It’s getting dark outside—and even darker in here,” Rainier said. “Let’s go into the sitting room and light a couple of lamps before we have to deal with frightened children.”

“We’re going to be dealing with frightened children whether we light lamps or not,” Surreal replied.

“I just don’t understand what Jaenelle and Marian were thinking.”

Surreal waggled the paper. “Since I think I found the first clue, let’s light the lamps and find out.”

The moment they walked back into the sitting room, Dayle said, “Where is the spooky stuff? This place is boring.” Then she poked her lower lip out in a pout.

Maybe landen adults thought pouting was cute. As far as Surreal was concerned, if you were old enough to stand up by yourself, you were too old to pout and have it look cute.

«Don’t even consider it,» Rainier said.

«I wasn’t considering anything.»

«You were going to tell her to open the door under the stairs.»

Of course she was. «If she doesn’t stop pouting, I’m going to put maggots in her hair.»

A hesitation. Just long enough to tell her he was picturing the possibility—and enjoying it.

Since that cheered her up, she waited while Rainier used Craft to light two of the oil lamps in the room.

Somewhere in the house, a gong sounded twice.

Rainier held one lamp while she opened the paper.

THERE ARE THIRTY EXITS FROM THE SPOOKY HOUSE, BUT YOU WILL NEED TO LOOK CAREFULLY TO FIND THEM, FOR THEY ARE WRAPPED IN DANGER. EVERY TIME CRAFT IS USED, AN EXIT IS SEALED, AND THAT WAY OUT IS LOST. WHEN THE LAST EXIT IS SEALED, YOU WILL BECOME PART OF THE HOUSE—AND STAY WITH US FOREVER.

“What in the name of Hell…?” Rainier said, following Surreal as she moved away from the children.

“The gong,” she whispered once they were standing near the door. “It sounded twice when you created the tongues of witchfire and lit the lamps. I heard it when I made the witchlight.” Which was still floating in the hallway.

“When I checked the time, I called in and vanished the pocket watch,” Rainier whispered back.

“So that’s five times we’ve used Craft since we went through that gate in the fence.”

“Five times that we remember.”

He had a point. The Blood—especially darker-Jeweled Blood—were so accustomed to using Craft as a way to siphon off the power that flowed within them, they weren’t even aware of using it half the time.

“The gong must be a signal that Craft was used,” Surreal said, glancing at the children to make sure she and Rainier were still out of hearing.

“Or a signal that one of those exits closed because Craft was used.” Then Rainier added on a psychic thread, «But communicating like this doesn’t appear to trigger…whatever this is.»

They waited, but no gong sounded.

She read the note again and considered the implications.

«Rainier…I couldn’t have been the only one to receive an invitation.»

«An invitation to a trap, from the looks of it.»

«Yeah.» She gave him a moment to consider that. «The others haven’t shown up yet, and we don’t know how many invitations were sent.»

«Fair bet invitations were sent to Yaslana and Sadi. And the caretaker, or whoever he is, did say there were twelve visitors per tour.»

«Doesn’t mean twelve of us were expected.» She studied the note. «Every time Craft is used, an exit is sealed, and there are thirty exits. That sounds like the total number of times Craft can be used between all of the Blood in the house. Which means the more Blood in this place, the less chance we have of finding a way out while there still is a way out.»

«Agreed,» Rainier said. «What are you suggesting?»

She handed the note to him. «That we not play the game and try a direct approach for getting out of here.»

Returning to the hall, she opened the front door. Still had solid brick behind it. But brick was no match for a punch of Gray power.

Turning inward, she made a fast descent in the abyss until she reached her inner web and the full power of her Gray Jewels. Then she turned and rose like an arrow of psychic power released from a bow.

She raised her right hand, aiming it at the bricks framed by the doorway. The Gray Jewel in her ring flashed as she unleashed a punch of power that would blow out the whole damn wall.

Or should have.

She stared at the undamaged bricks. Then she heard an odd crackle. A sizzle.

“Surreal!”

No time to reply. Some kind of webbing suddenly wrapped around her head and torso. She couldn’t see it. Her fingers couldn’t feel it. But it felt like a web made out of lightning and wire that passed through her skin and tightened until it squeezed her lungs, closed her throat.

Her heart thundered in her ears as she fought to breathe, fought to stay alive.

“Surreal!”

Rainier’s arms around her.

She heard him snarl in frustrated rage. Heard a door slam. Or maybe that was her heart.

Then she heard the gong.

Suddenly the webbing was gone and she could breathe again.

“Mother Night,” she gasped.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

No. “Not sure.” Shit shit shit. That hurt.

“What happened?”

She was on the floor. Didn’t remember going down. Since Rainier was being so obliging about propping her up, she leaned against him.

“Backlash,” she said, wincing when she swallowed. “There must be spells that have formed a cage around this place. I punched them when I tried to open the wall. They punched back.”

She tried to get up—and wasn’t happy that she needed Rainier’s help.

«If Sadi and Yaslana were invited, then this cage was designed to hold the Black and Ebon-gray,» Rainier said.

«Yeah.» And that wasn’t good news for her or Rainier.

“Come back into the sitting room,” he said, leading her to the room. “You should sit down.”

“I’m all right.” Had to be. “I don’t need to sit down.” More to the point, she didn’t want to find out she was too shaky to get up by herself if she did sit down.

«Looks like we’re going to play the game,» Rainier said. «The only way out is to find one of those exits.»

Surreal nodded. «But first, we have to find a way to warn the others before they walk into this place. Then we get us and the children out of here.»

«Without using Craft.»

«Without using Craft.»

Rainier hesitated. «Do you think Jaenelle and Marian did this?»

«Doesn’t matter at this point, does it?»

Everything has a price. That was a common saying among the Blood. Everything has a price.

And the price for trying to leave his game by cheating was pain.

The caging spell had worked exactly as he’d been told it would, using the witch’s power against herself to inflict a great deal of pain.

But not enough physical damage to take Surreal out of the game.

Unfortunately, the caging spell wasn’t as effective if it was challenged a second time, but that was why the pain was so vicious—to discourage anyone from trying to break through the spell a second time.