Mary Putney - Dancing on the Wind

Everyone turned and stared at him with surprise. Kit's gaze met his, stark with relief. He hoped to God that her faith in him wasn't misplaced.

Recovering quickly from his shock, Mace said jovially, "Ah, Lucifer. You've come to join us. I was afraid that because of the weather, you might not get here in time to play your role." As he spoke, he edged back toward the altar.

"Stop pretending," Lucien said flatly. "This is no game, but criminal folly. If you don't release her, you or your brother will die." He started to move forward through the ring of statues.

Eyes sparkling with malice, Mace cried, "The time has come to seal the circle!" He leaned down and wrenched on a long lever that rose from the floor next to the altar.

The statues came alive.

As Mace threw the lever, the chamber filled with the rumble of grinding gears and hissing steam. Instantly, the mechanical warriors were transformed into a race of ancient giants, swinging their weapons with vicious power.

The gladiator chopped down with his sword, the Viking cleaved the air with a battle-ax-the knight, a yard away, slashed his sword straight at Lucien.

If it hadn't taken the mechanism a few moments to creak into motion, he would have died on the spot. As it was, he realized the danger and ducked barely in time.

Mace roared with laughter, as if the near-fatality was a great joke. "You of all men should appreciate my steam-powered warriors, Lucifer," he called. "There has never been anything like them in the history of the world!"

Lucien swore to himself as he retreated. The thrumming machinery and unusual warmth now made sense, for there had to be giant steam boilers nearby, with pipes running under the floor to power the movements of the statues. Each of the weapons swung rapidly back and forth through a single arc. Any single blade could be avoided, but the rings of figures had been placed so that the danger areas overlapped, some high, some low.

The arrangement completely blocked passage into the circle. Going around the path of the sword would put him in the range of the battle-ax on one side or a scimitar on the other. It was brilliant, and Lucien damned his enemy to hell for creating it.

"Very clever, Mace," he snapped. "But I can still shoot between the statues. Release her!"

"Do you want blood, Lucifer? If you don't cooperate,the girl's will flow." Mace waved a grandiose hand at his brother.

His expression full of vicious excitement, Harford delicately drew the point of his blade in a line below Kit's collarbone. Scarlet drops of blood formed along the cut. She made a small, desperate sound, instantly suppressed.

Lucien felt his face go white. The glitter in Mace's eyes confirmed Kira's story; he was primed for the explosive release of sexual violence that he had planned for tonight. His brother must share his madness, for the air had the chancy, volatile aura of danger sometimes felt before a thunderstorm. Any provocation would serve as an excuse to slit Kit's throat.

"We have a stalemate, don't you think?" Mace's voice was eerily pleasant. "If you want your fancy piece to survive, drop your pistol."

Sickly, Lucien realized that he had no choice. He could shoot either Mace or Harford, but not both. Leaving one alive might be Kit's death sentence, for both brothers were capable of killing her without a moment's compunction.

Though he had little faith in Mace's trustworthiness, perhaps the presence of so many witnesses might keep his worst excesses in check. From what Kira had said, not all of them were murderers. Stony faced, he dropped his gun to the floor.

As he did, he saw a flicker of motion on the opposite gallery. He glanced up without shifting his head and saw Michael and Jason entering from a side passage. Summing up the situation in one keen glance, Michael raised his carbine and aimed it at Harford. Then he looked down at Lucien, waiting for a signal.

When Michael fired, Harford would be a dead man. However, Lucien would have to retrieve his gun and take care of Mace himself because Jason was too far away to be accurate with a pistol. It would be risky-but less so than leaving Kit in the hands of two madmen.

Once the shooting started, anything could happen. Thank God Kit had the intelligence and courage to react swiftly. Focusing his mind with furious intensity, Lucien tried to send a mental warning for her to be alert. She stared at him, ashen, but he thought he saw comprehension in her stark eyes.

Praying that Michael's aim would be true, Lucien looked up and gave a faint nod.

The carbine roared, the blast reverberating through the cavern with numbing force. Simultaneously Lucien dived for his pistol. Roderick Harford screamed and spun around from the impact of Michael's bullet, then collapsed. As he fell, Kit twisted away before his knife could slice into her throat.

Without rising, Lucien snapped a shot at Mace, but the instant it had taken to reach the gun gave the other man time to take shelter. Mace leaped behind the stone altar, which would protect him from the shots of both of his attackers.

Before Lucien could reload, he heard Kira scream, " Kit !"

In his concern for Kit, he had forgotten about her sister. Now, drawn by the sounds of gunshots, Kira burst into the chamber. He glanced up and saw that she was only a few feet away, her face frantic as she gazed at her twin.

Kit whipped around and stared at her sister, her soul in her eyes. " Kira !"

From his own understanding of the twin bond, he realized that having been separated by force, they now had a need to be together that was so fierce it was almost palpable. The rest of the world had vanished for the two of them.

Even so, he was unprepared when they began running toward each other. Kira dropped her whip and sable cape, then hurled herself into the midst of the slashing mechanical warriors. She safely ducked under the swinging sword, but Lucien gasped when he saw that she was moving into the downward arc of the battle-ax. She dropped to the floor and slithered under it. For an instant he thought her spine would be severed, but she was just slim enough to pass below unscathed.

So far, so good, but she would never be able to avoid the scimitar. He scooped up the whip she had dropped, then lashed it at the mechanical Turk with all his strength. The thong curled around the figure's arm. The steam-driven mechanism almost yanked Lucien from his feet, but he hung on grimly. With a shriek of metal, the arm twisted in its iron socket, slowing long enough to permit Kira to dart by.

As Kira ran her horrendous gauntlet, Kit dodged around Nunfield, who had made a grab at her. At the same time she was struggling with her bonds. She freed her wrists in time to run into her sister's embrace. They locked their arms around each other, clinging together in the midst of chaos.

Nunfield raised his pistol and swung it toward the two women, his face distorted with furious malice. Frantically, Lucien started to reload, praying that Nunfield's first shot would miss.

His eyes were caught by a movement above. He glanced up and saw Jason Travers grab the rope that ran from the gallery to the chandelier by way of a pulley. The rope was intended to lower the chandelier for cleaning and new candles, but Jason found a lethal new use for it. He leaped onto the railing, then swept to the floor of the chamber like an avenging eagle.

His weight caused the chandelier to fly upward and smash into the ceiling. Flaming candles rained onto the screaming Disciples below. The chandelier itself plunged downward after Jason released the rope, almost hitting Mace, who retreated farther behind the altar. Most of the candles went out when it hit the floor, leaving the cavern lit only by the bonfires.