Forged Page 69

“Aaaahhhnvil!!” she screamed as loudly as she could. She was set upon again, and by the time a third attacker appeared, the first one had regained himself and was coming back down to the ground.

“It’s hexed or something!” the first announced. “Take the girl. We’ll let Panahasi figure it out for himself.”

“Done!” The second and third man grabbed her by an arm each and she felt torsion, as though they were going to rip her in two between them. It was so painful that she was afraid to move for fear of ripping her own arms out of her sockets. In desperation she tried to think, tried to focus on what she had learned.

Build a bridge. To the heart of the pendant’s power, she heard Kamen’s voice in her head.

But before she could do so, the world around her just disappeared. The sprawling desert landscape vanished from her sight and all she could see was streaking black and charcoal darkness. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. All the while they were dragging her forward. She could feel the rush of the harsh wind against her, as though they were dragging her at a superfast speed from one point to the next. As they went the temperature began to drop to a point well below the crisp night air of New Mexico, until she felt as though she were out in the bleak exposure of Washington state, or some place like it, once more. That supposition was supported when they suddenly stopped and she found herself knee-deep in snow, light flurries falling down around her. No sooner had she made out the stars in the sky than her whole body heaved with the most profound nausea she’d felt in her life. She vomited into the snow, her arms twisted again as they held her, as if she might try something while puking up her guts.

“That’s the streak, missy,” one of them said in a guttural back-alley cockney accent. “They always belt up on the first run.”

She was yanked forward toward what looked an old prison or mental institution, but instead of the front entrance she was brought off to a wing on the far side. As they were going, however, she could see an object hanging from the roof of the building. She felt her gorge rise when she realized it was a body. She looked around frantically, but like the house in New Mexico, this was located at the top of a very long drive and there was nothing but wooded land all around it. They could hang bodies in the open because there would never be anyone to see them except those who lived there. She was dragged inside and then down the stairs. She tried to fight then, even in spite of the painful way they had her arms twisted around, but it was impossible. Before she knew it she was being thrown into a cell. They strapped her in with heavy metal manacles connected to chains that fed back into the wall. The heavily barred wall on the front side of the cell was the only exposure. There were no windows, no source of light other than the industrial overhead lighting outside of her cage. On the other side of the bars was what looked like a workshop. There were tables laid out with all manner of things. From a half-dissected animal on one side, to a pile of books on another and bottles and bottles of objects and powders on the third. It was a massive room overall, but it was jammed full of stuff. And the person who kept the cell was clearly something of a slob. Half-eaten food on a plate was on one of the tables, a discarded shirt hung off a desk chair. There was a desk, but it could hardly be seen under the piles and piles of papers and envelopes and other paraphernalia. On the wall were shadowboxes filled with butterflies and various other insects.

“Oh my God,” she whispered to the now empty rooms. “I’m in Silence of the Lambs! I’m going to be putting lotion in the basket!”

She was left alone for quite some time. The only sound outside of her frantic breathing was the drip of water. It was cold, cold enough to have her walking back and forth in an attempt to warm herself. There wasn’t so much as a cot or a blanket. Only the floor and the questionable sanitation of a single toilet/sink combination. Just as she was trying to figure out what she was expected to use in the way of toilet paper, a short man entered the room. Or maybe he just seemed short because she had grown so used to Ahnvil towering over her. Oh God, she thought frantically. What I wouldn’t give to have him here right now! He would know what to do. He would have the power and strength to get her out of this horrible situation.

“Well, what have we here?”

“A really pissed off woman is what,” she groused, for some reason feeling like she shouldn’t show any fear. But she was afraid. Without Ahnvil, she had no clue how to navigate this dangerous paranormal world. He had been right. It was dangerous to be involved in their world. But the truth was, if the necklace was what they were after, that house had had nothing to do with it. She would have called trouble to her no matter where she went.

“Charming,” he said drolly. “Now, we can make this a very simple transaction, my dear. You give me my Amulet and I give you your freedom.”

“Yeah, right. You’re going to just let me walk out of here and go on my merry way?” she noted. Oh shut up, Katrina! What is the matter with you?

“Well, aren’t you clever. But I promise,” he said, holding up a hand and giving the most fake sincere smile she’d ever seen. “You will be unharmed and let go if you hand me the pendant.”

“I can’t,” she said, fighting tears and trying to keep them out of her voice. “It won’t come off. It’s like cursed or something.”

“Do you mind if I try?” he asked.

She knew what would happen. An evil part of her stepped back invitingly and smiled. “Be my guest,” she said.

He looked cautious as he entered the cell. “How is it a human girl like you has this pendant?”

“I got it from a Gargoyle.”

“Oh. Him. I figured it might be that. Now, let me see.” He reached for the Amulet and picked it up. He examined it for a moment and then, clearly, made the decision to try and pull it over her head. The minute his intent became obvious, the pendant sent out the repulsion field and they both were shoved in opposing directions. She hit the wall and he hit the bars. They both picked themselves up, groaning.

“See. I told you,” she said.

“Hmm. This is going to take some doing. The obvious solution might be the best way. I will have to think on it.”

Panahasi left her cell and went to walk out.

“Wait! I need something.”

“What?” he asked wearily.

“Toilet paper. A blanket and a cot or something. Maybe if I’m more comfortable I’ll be able to figure out how to get it off me.”

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