40. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

T he tunnel felt like it was going on forever. Ingrid marched behind her, the man from the horse before her. The banshee pressed a dagger pressed at her back, the point having already sliced through her dress and into bare skin. One wrong move and it'd slice right into her spine. The deeper they moved, the more a strange tension squeezed her bones. Like a thousand hands gripping her at once, every breath was a battle, the walk ahead a war she was quickly losing.

She tried to look for any weakness, anything she might use as opening. A slight limp or something she might use as a weapon. She didn't fancy her chances at moving so quickly in such a cramped space, especially when the only path if she managed to defeat the man in front was going toward the goddess.

Think, what would Aya do? Probably jump the man, claw at his eyes. Use the chaos somehow to secure a weapon, fight her way-out tooth and nail. No care for the carnage she left behind, especially if she thought they deserved to die screaming.

"You know, I would've expected a lover of Aya to be spouting off more threats by now," Ingrid mused. "I certainly never predicted her choice of woman would be so subdued. Hell, even Marisol had more bite than you."

A human, Elaine reflected, who fought Zari off to save Aya when she was just a ghost. Knowing full well Aya might just destroy her in retaliation. She shook off the thoughts, letting the barb slide off her skin. Silence was hers. She wasn't about to give Ingrid anything.

"Nothing to say?" Ingrid dug the blade in a little deeper.

Elaine swallowed back the cry straining against her lips and pushed on, clinging to the silence.

Luckily, the tunnel finally widened until they arrived in a large circular room. It was so much like the one she'd ‘seen' before, that she half-expected to see Aurora there, kneeling in chains. At the center of the ceiling, a witchlight sparked to life, throwing out a buttery glow that chased back the shadows. The glow alighted over the marks covering every inch of the wall, a language Elaine couldn't even begin to decipher, and at least a hundred demons slumbering around the edge of the room. A single circle of them—dead.

Their throats ripped open; the stone stained with their dried blood.

"I had to be sure this was the place," Ingrid began, gesturing to the demons, "but when I saw them, I knew I was in the right spot."

" You did this?"

"No," Ingrid laughed. "I simply made them do it themselves. Perks of my kind, dear, we can drive anyone to madness. Had I not needed your mind for what comes next, I would've shredded yours to ribbons, and then left you for Aya to find."

Elaine spun sharply, ignoring the sting of pain as the blade sliced clean around her side and halfway across her stomach, tearing at her dress. "Why do you hate her?"

Ingrid merely laughed. "Because I like suffering. I like screams and begging, and I like the way death feels when someone has been driven over the edge. Besides, if I killed you, your little necromancer would simply bring you back. Which would take all the fun out of it." The smile fell away as the banshee looked beyond her to the other side of the room. "So many folks wondered what would truly make Aya snap. I guess we will find out soon enough."

Elaine turned slowly, her breath catching in her throat.

A towering door, nearly the size of her home, carved of black stone with veins of gold, greeted them. Aurora's mark was etched where the two doors joined.

They had arrived.

"Keep moving, Elaine. You're outnumber and outmatched."

"You won't kill me. You need me to open the door. That's why you brought me here."

In a flash, Ingrid was at her back, the blade pressed across her throat. "True, but I wonder how much resistance you will put up when I start carving the flesh from your bones."

After hearing Aya threaten folks, seeing the dark look in her eyes, Ingrid's threats felt weak. A pale echo, pathetic even. Problem was, she needed to get her powers back—because whilst she had trained with Tobias and Aya and even Sabra, she wasn't perfect. Aya certainly got her pinned on the ground more than she cared to admit, maddening as it was.

Don't suppose you can hear me, Aurora?

Silence.

Elaine sucked in a deep breath. There were eight men, each armed, and Ingrid had her magic. She'd never sparred with a banshee and knew only a little of their talents. The powers of the mind were the most concerning, an area she hadn't much training with.

There was only one path forward—for the moment.

"Any ideas on how I am meant to open the door, or do I just ask it nicely?" Elaine turned around, one brow lifted in her best impersonation of Aya—bored, a little impatient, as if she had much better things to concern herself with. "Because as you've pointed out, I am a little restricted right now."

Ingrid gestured ahead. "Walk."

"Well, that's painfully descriptive," she drawled but did as commanded, slowing her pace enough so that three of the men were now in the edge of her vision. By their footsteps behind her, it was a decent guess of everyone's position in the room. One was by the exit but if she managed that far, she fancied her odds.

The door loomed ahead. A faint hum of magic radiated off it, drawing her in. Like a kind of melody, one sang in the back of their throat. Not quite a child's lullaby but something still soothing, drawing her closer. Perhaps Aurora wasn't able to speak to her, but she swore the goddess was reaching out anyway, pushing against the confines of her cage.

I'm here, she said, but I don't know what to do. I don't have any magic or weapons. If you have any advice, I wouldn't be mad.

Ingrid appeared at her side, gazing upon the door with a feverish gleam in her eyes. A deep flush rippled across her cheeks; the excitement palpable that Elaine almost wondered if Ingrid felt the pull as well.

"Since I'm about to die, don't suppose you could maybe clear up what exactly you're getting out of this? With the barrier gone, you leave yourself exposed. I remember a lot of folks who hunted banshees on the outside world. Is that really what you want to subject your people to?"

Ingrid snorted. "You're thinking too small. After this, my people will be stronger than ever before. No one will dare come for us."

The pieces slammed into place.

"You're going to kill Aurora—" Elaine cut herself off; laughter erupted from her throat, spilling into the room. "You can't be that delusional." Cold anger darkened Ingrid's face, spurring more laughter from Elaine. "The gods will never grant you any favors. Why the fuck do you think they won't just kill you?"

Ingrid's anger bled away, exposing a smile that chilled the room. Her hand shot out, clamping hard around Elaine's wrist. A startled yelp broke free as she was yanked forward. Before she could blink, Ingrid slashed the dagger across Elaine's palm. Bright blood welled suddenly along the wound and dripped onto the ground, a small puddle gathering where she stood. She tried to rip her hand free, but a shadow fell over her, slamming her forward. Her palm collided with the door.

Ingrid's hand grabbed the back of her neck. She leaned in close, her cold breath brushing against the shell of her ear. A strange pressure bore down onto her, wrapping around her throat. She felt her lips move, strange words rising up. Not her own but Ingrid's, the banshee forcing her to speak.

"By the decree of the gods, by blood and by magic, what was once bound now opens, what was trapped is now free."

It wasn't her voice—and yet it was. She tried to clamp her lips shut but it was no use.

The room sunk into an eerie quiet, as though not only those within it, but the world as well, held its breath. Leaned toward the door in anticipation, watching with hunger and ambition.

Her heart was a storm, her breath a gusting wind, moving too quickly for her to contain it. She had to stop, had to do—

The door rumbled and started to open.

Elaine's gaze flew to Ingrid, to the dagger in her hand. Aya's presence appeared with her in that moment, her voice crooning.

The dagger! She seemed to tell Elaine.

Finally. Her opening.

She exploded forward, lunging for the blade. Ingrid spun around, eyes blazing. A smug smile twisted around her mouth.

Fuck.

Metal glinted, lifted up. She couldn't stop as Ingrid shot in close, driving the dagger into her stomach. Molten hot pain erupted, tearing across her chest. A scream ripped loose as she sunk into the blade, shock coursing through her. Aya's voice came to her again, thundering in her ears.

Keep fighting!

Elaine's hand dropped to the dagger, and she met Ingrid's gaze. She would not be afraid, and she would not fail her friends.

Both her hands shot up, heading right for Ingrid's eyes—driving in hard.

A guttural scream ripped from Ingrid as she staggered back. The grip on the blade faltered. Elaine grasped the hilt and yanked it free. Not wasting a single second, she drove forward and slashed the blade across Ingrid's throat. Hot blood arced across the air, splashing against her cheek. The metallic taste burned her lips as she dove into Aurora's prison.

The men, frozen by the attack, spurred forward.

She slammed her hands into the door. Within the room, Aurora's presence surged into her mind, became one with her own body. Souls interlocked in a flash. A new scream worked its way up her throat, coming free.

"Close!"

Through the gap in the door, Ingrid's body hit the floor. Vacant eyes stared back. The men rushed in, but they were too slow.

The door slammed shut.

Deafening silence greeted her.

Elaine sunk to her knees, breathing hard. Darkness nudged the edge of her vision, threatening to pull her under. She nearly wanted it, the pain spreading out from the wound. Ingrid was dead but she still couldn't feel her powers. Why hadn't they come back? Her gaze dropped to the dark stain spreading across her dress, to the blood squeezing through her fingers.

She turned around shakily, dropping so her back hit the door. Her gaze moved over the stone, to the room she'd seen once before.

And to the goddess chained there.

She nearly sobbed at the sight. She'd found her and she was going to bleed out before she could save anyone, powerless and alone.

Free me, break my chains and you have your magic!

A tiny sob escaped her lips. "But everyone will die."

Remember our conversation. Be the anchor.

"I have no magic, I can't b-break it. I can't…"

Trust me. I can dull the spell on you, just for a moment, but you can only use one magic, not all three—will that be enough?

Elaine lurched forward onto her knees, and she gritted her teeth, determination igniting in her chest. "Yes."

The world tilted, the remnants of her strength bleeding out onto the floor. She pressed her hand hard to the wound, crying out as she forced herself up. Her legs wobbled, nearly buckling as she inched forward. Waves of agony burned in her stomach as a trail of blood dripped on the floor.

Elaine pushed on, even as the darkness demanded her surrender. Twice she nearly did, never yielded but it was Aya's face, bright and clear in her mind. A promise of the future they wanted, of the love they swore to each other. To whatever end. No matter the evil they faced.

Keep going! She screamed to her body, closing the space until there she was, and her strength to stay standing crumbled away. She hit the ground, not even noticing the pain of that blow against the fiery burn consuming her. Tears blurred her vision.

She reached out, trembling, fighting the death that clawed at her, hungry to consume her completely. A single focus burned clear in her mind, cleaving through the pain and the blood. Her fingers brushed the chains.

Ready?

"Do it!"

The bind on her faltered—just for a blink an eye.

Elaine screamed and unleashed fire onto the chains until the room trembled and groaned, and she let it all go, pouring every scrap of magic she had.

The chains exploded.