Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

“Have you tested it?” she asked.

Ariana shook her head. “No,” she answered flatly. “I didn’t dare.”

“Why not?”

“The other girls’ gifts aren’t as strong as ours,” Ariana said. “You and I are the only two who might succeed. Either of us will only have enough strength for a single try. After that we may never have enough power again.”

“Worse yet is the sound it is sure to produce, should it work,” Ariana went on. “This place is very old. Everything is covered in rust and grime. If I were to test it just as the guard happened by-well, you get the picture.”

Sadly, Mallory had to agree. “What do you suggest?” she asked.

Ariana thought for a moment. “We should reverse roles,” she said.

Mallory looked surprised. “Why?” she asked.

“I am the one who wrote the spell, not you. I know it better. If it works for me, then you can perform the part I was to do and entice the guard. I know it’s not what we agreed on, but it seems the only way.”

For several long moments, Mallory considered Ariana’s suggestion. “Do you think you can do it?” she asked.

Ariana sighed. “There’s only one way to find out. But I can summon only enough energy to try once, so I’ll do it by incantation rather than memory. That way has the greatest chance of success.”

Ariana thought about what was at stake, then looked Mallory in the eyes. “You’re our leader,” she whispered. “What do you want me to do?”

A concerned look came over Mallory’s face. She stared back at the other girls. All six were fast asleep. Even Magdalene, their resident troublemaker, was out. Mallory looked back at Ariana.

“If there was ever a time to try, it’s now,” she whispered. “The girls are all asleep, so they won’t react and make any noise. If you succeed, we’ll wake them. If you fail, they don’t have to know.”

Standing, Mallory looked to the door. “Wait for my signal,” she said. “It will come when the guard is farthest away.” Ariana nodded her understanding.

“Good luck,” Mallory said.

“And you,” Ariana answered back.

Mallory waited until the guard passed by again, then she quickly tiptoed to the door. Placing her face against the dirty bars, she watched him walk away for as long as she could. When she lost the angle on him and he slipped from view, she waved one hand. Concentrating with all her might, Ariana started whispering her calculations. Remembering what Master Duncan had so often told her, when she reached the end of the formula she closed her eyes, then envisioned what she wanted to happen. With her heart in her throat, she cocked her head to listen.

Squeaking as they went, the rusty tumblers in the door’s lock started to turn over.

Knowing that the spell was only halfway finished, Ariana held her breath. Eutracian locks always turned over at least twice before they released. She winced as she heard the tumblers scrape again, even louder this time. In the quiet of the prison, they seemed deafening. Terrified, Ariana shot a glance at Mallory.

Mallory heard the guard’s footsteps abruptly stop for a moment, then start again. They came faster now, growing louder with every step.

Racking her brain, she hurried to the rear wall, then grabbed up the tin pot in which the gruel had been served. Putting a vacuous look on her face, she started absentmindedly scratching the pot against the wall, as if the relentless boredom had finally overcome her and she needed to do something, anything, to alleviate it. The scratching didn’t sound altogether like the rusty tumblers, but it was all she could think of.

As the curious guard stopped before their door, Mallory kept on with her mindless scraping. Out of the corner of one eye she saw him grab the door bars, then peer in as he searched the cell. Ariana kept her face to the wall. Mallory held her breath.

The guard finally sneered at Mallory’s foolishness. After what seemed an eternity, he let go of the door. Mallory blessed the rusty hinges that had kept it from shifting at his touch. Saying nothing, the guard turned, then continued his patrol.

Wide-eyed, Ariana looked at her. Mallory let go a sigh of relief.

It was time to wake the others. They hadn’t a moment to lose.

Mary’s dread grew as she followed Lothar down the torch-lit hallways. Today’s walk was in an unfamiliar direction. She had never visited this part of the prison before.

The dingy cells along the way held prisoners of both sexes. Some had been imprisoned for so long that their clothes were mere tatters and their bodies had wasted away to slumping sacks of bones. Mary lowered her head as she tried to ignore the pervasive stench of human waste.

Many of these wretched souls had gone mad. Some pointed, laughed, or howled insanely as Lothar and Mary walked by. Others, their eyes wide with terror and hopelessness, lunged at the bars. Still others sat huddled in their cell’s corners, babbling incoherently. Signs of physical torture showed plainly on their bodies.

Mary was comforted to know that her two most trusted girls back at the bordello knew where she was, in case Lothar tried something unexpected. That was always the case when she visited here. Even so, as she traveled deeper into this wretched place, she became more frightened.

Her mouth suddenly dry, Mary clutched her purse so tightly that her knuckles went white. She was about to tell Lothar that she wanted to go back when he stopped before a wooden door at the end of the hall. It was made of massive oak planks and was fortified with iron cross braces.

Lothar dropped his cigar and crushed it beneath one shoe. He smiled.

“Just a little farther,” he said. “I promise the trip will be worth it.”

He produced a brass key from his vest pocket and shoved it into the door’s keyhole, then turned it over.

Lothar pulled on the squeaky door. A circular stairway led downward. More torchlight shone from the depths; the sounds of a faintly cracking bullwhip and distant screams wafted up the stairs. The stench rising to meet them was nearly overpowering. Lothar beckoned Mary across the threshold and onto the mildewed landing.

Lothar locked the door behind them. The brass key went back into his pocket. Without further ado, he started down.

Having come this far, Mary knew she could never double back against the jailor’s will. Wondering whether she would ever be heard from again, she reluctantly followed him down the stairs.

Mallory shook Scarlet’s shoulders gently. At Seven Seasons of New Life, Scarlet was the youngest among them. “Wake up!” Mallory whispered.

Rubbing her eyes, Scarlet scowled sleepily. Ariana busily awakened the other five girls. Once they were all on their feet, Mallory told them to crowd around as she explained the plan. Several of them started to jump up and down and squeal with delight.

That was the last thing Mallory needed. Putting a finger over her lips, she hushed them. For once, even the disagreeable Magdalene obeyed.

“Do you all know what to do?” Mallory asked. Eager nods came from all around.

Mallory looked anxiously toward the door. She had waited until the guard passed by before waking the girls. He was due back soon. Less than an hour ago, there had been a change of shift. To her dismay, the guard patrolling the hall was now the same filthy brute who had abused her earlier. At first that had unnerved her. But now she planned to use it to her advantage. She looked anxiously at Ariana.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Ariana nodded, but there was a worried look in her eyes. “Be careful,” she whispered. “We will have only one chance at this!”

Mallory took Ariana’s hands into hers. “I know,” she answered. “Be sure they’re ready to move at a moment’s notice!”