<!LUMAR.
PART 7. SHE-DEVIL: WITCH.>
<!by KeriAnndr, kerianndr@yahoo.com>
<!Slaughter continues. Dina walks out of her prison
stepping over bodies.>
The
chain rattled. Dina winced as she raised her hand to scratch the skin under a
rough thick leather collar, which was choking her neck like an ugly black
toadstool. The wound in her chest was healing remarkably fast, though it was
still sending a jolt of a dull pain through her upper torso every time she
tried to raise her arm too fast.
People
say that witches, like cats, have nine lives. Dina wasn't sure that she
believed that. Anyway, it wasn't magic that saved her life, but rather a weird
anomaly of her own body. Since birth she had a rare chest defect: her heart was
shifted inside her ribcage about an inch to the right from where it was
supposed to be. Lumara who stabbed her that night in the tunnel apparently had
her hand set for a normal person and missed Dina's ticker by a good quarter
inch. There was pain, there was shock and loss of conscience, but no vital
organ was actually damaged.
When
Gonta and her gang of Tylins were sent to the Queen's Palace to intercept Dina
and then failed to return, another group went to investigate. They quickly
found Dina, sprawled unconscious on the body of her hapless would-be killer.
Her hand was still firmly clamped around the head of the hairpin she used on
her now-dead attacker. Then Tylins ascended to the courtyard and saw the
carnage Dina left there. And then they got very, very busy removing some
hard-to-explain bodies from the scene, tidying things up and generally trying
to save their secret sorority's collective butt. In fact, in the end they
succeeded. The inglorious demise of Gonta and her troopers by the hand of a
single person remained undiscovered. Tylins didn't advertise that they had Dina
in custody to avoid unwelcome questions about their own bungled participation
in the mess, and the whole disaster was written off as especially elaborate and
brazen raid of Mylar Amazons. Tylins even managed to gain some points for
quickly "finding" the route by which "the raiders" had sneaked into the Palace
courtyard through the trunk of the old baobab. The ancient tree was burned to
the ground and the tunnel under it was filled with earth. All and all, except
for the biggest one-time loss in the membership, the secret sisterhood of
masked assassins has weathered the storm not so bad.
At
first Tylins wanted to put Dina out of her misery right away. The only
disagreement was about the most satisfying way to do this. Some were
volunteering themselves to quarter or skin her alive. Others were actually more
in favor of frying her on a slow flame, since she was a witch after all. Still
others insisted on using an aspen stake, mistakenly taking her for a vampire.
This time it was Gantera, the Grand Magister of Tylin Order, who saved her
life. Gantera was deeply impressed with what Dina had done at the Palace and
thought that her lethal talents could be of much use to the secret society if
she could only be tamed down a little bit. So, Dina was put in a cell, and
Gantera dove into her new project with all the vigor of her youth and
entrepreneurial character. She visited Dina in her prison three times in three
days, evaluating her as a recruiting material and impressing on her that since
she was wanted by both Lumaras and Amazons now, the only friends she got were
Tylins.
"Yeah.
Right. Some friends", Dina thought every time her chain rattled.
Pretty
soon, though, even Gantera with her enthusiasm had to admit that the project
was a no-flier. No matter how hard Dina tried to pretend being cooperative,
interested, and even submissive, Gantera was too smart to be fooled. One just
can't coach a cobra to pick up crumbs from one's hand. Dina was simply too
dangerous for a pet. Her fate already sealed, it was just a matter of days if
not hours until the decision was finally made on how to dispose of her.
"They
better do it soon, for their own sake", Dina fumed to herself, gingerly
touching the skin on her neck the collar had abraded raw. If she somehow
managed to get out of this alive, Gantera was as good as dead for the collar
and the chain!
As
for now, her chances of "somehow" escaping looked pretty slim, saying it
mildly. Dina rubbed her neck again and look around. The dim light of an oil lamp
hanging from a hook on the wall was just enough to see all the fine features of
her new home. Her prison was a stone cave apparently in the end of an old
tunnel somewhere deep inside the underground maze of Serval. A stout oak door,
banded in iron, was blocking the only exit and was secured with a massive
padlock from outside. The corner she was sitting in was fenced from the rest of
the chamber by a set of thick iron bars, firmly imbedded into the stone of the
floor and ceiling, making eventually a cage around her. A rusty chain was
fastened to the collar on her neck and ran between the bars to a ring in the
wall outside her cage. As a fact, the collar wasn't really a problem. The
tunnel had been dug through the bedrock of limestone, which is known to be a
very flaky mineral. Small pieces and shards of it were plenty on the floor
under the walls, and she was using razor-sharp chips to cut the leather of her
collar. She was making pretty good progress at it, and after three days she was
about three quarters through. The bars of her cage were not a problem either.
Dina could only guess who the cage had been designed for originally, but
definitely not for anyone as slender and petite as she was. (What has been kept here before me? A bear? A
tiger? A behemoth? One should really give it to these guys: they never stop
experimenting with things!) And she sure wasn't gaining any pounds on her
current diet, either. Once every day, a small peephole in the door would open
and she would see a blue Lumarian eye checking her out. Then the door would
open and two Tylins would walk in. Immediately the door would be closed from
outside again. Tylins were not going to take any chances with Dina, that's for
sure. One of her jailers would stay at the door, the other one would come to
the bars and hand over her ration, usually a piece of bread wrapped in a
cabbage leaf and a mug of water. They would wait for her to finish the meal and
collect the mug. Occasionally they would add oil into the lamp or change the
straw litter she was sitting on. Not because they cared so much about her
hygiene; just to make sure that she wasn't trying to hide anything in it. And
then they would walk out. These two and Gantera was all the company she was
getting the last three days. Not that she wanted any, anyway.
So, the door is a problem. She was
contemplating it and working on the collar when she heard some noise. Quiet
footsteps stopped right outside her door. It was much too early for anyone to
be fetching her food. She didn't expect her keepers to appear for at least
three hours more. Then who was that? Or has she completely lost track of time
sitting in this eternal twilight? The peephole opened, and a dark eye stared at
her. Not a Lumara. Then who?
"Just
lookee who is here! Dina, is it you? Long time no see!"
Dina
had no problem recognizing this clownish, insolent voice. It was Astana, a
leader of a small gang of Amazons.
"What
is it on your neck?" Astana piped on. "A collar? I can't believe it! Her
friends are looking all over Mylar for her, and she is sitting here on a leash
playing a pet!"
Another bunch of "friends".
"I
love you too, Astana. Why all the sudden interest in humble me?"
"You
are too modest, Dina. Way too modest! A lot of people want to talk to you. Some
people want to talk about Dega and her girls, and how come they all are dead
and you are alive? Some people want to talk about Zaira's gang. Hundreds of
sisters are dead, and, guess, who is the only survivor again?"
Raw
anger flared in Dina's eyes. "You better watch it, Astana, who you call a
traitor!" she hissed. "I killed more Lumaras than you have hairs on your
pussy!"
"Speaking
of pussy. Some people hear that you were pretty buddy-buddy with Birna the
Royal Bitch Favorite Watchdog."
"OK.
Then come in. We'll talk."
"No
can do. We can't break the door. But when your masters come back to feed you,
we'll have the key. We'll see you soon, Dina the Pet. We'll see you real soon."
The window closed.
So,
Gantera didn't lie to her. Amazons were after her butt, too. Stupid bitches!
Astana should have known better than to give her an advance warning. The Zones
just never learn.
Having
a deadline to meet now, Dina doubled her efforts on the collar. Three hours
later the damn thing was finally done. Dina felt that it was held in place by
only a thin thread, exactly as she wanted it. Now she could only wait.
Her
wait wasn't too long. About half hour later she heard someone approaching the
door. Her jailers were back with her water and a piece of stale bread.
Hope you choke on it, Dina thought as
she smiled and waived to a guard who was eyeballing her through the peephole.
She got her wish right away. Suddenly, the sounds of furious struggle erupted
outside. She heard steps, shouts, clanging of metal striking metal. Next came a
loud gasp followed by a heavy crash into the door, and then a soft sliding
noise, like something being dragged along the stony floor. Then everything got
quiet again.
The
peephole opened. "We got the key, Dina the Pet! We are co-o-omi-i-ing!" Astana
sang, slightly out of breath, and was gone.
The
rattle of the key in the lock as her signal, Dina sprang to her feet, ripped
the collar off her neck and threw it
and the chain through the bars. Then she attacked the cage itself. To her
dismay she found that the space between the rods was much narrower than she
expected. But a witch is a witch, and by her shear will-power (plus some pretty
vigorous squeezing, wriggling and thrusting) Dina managed to teleport herself
bodily to freedom, though nearly leaving her ears on the rusty grid in the
process. A little crumpled, a bruise here, a scratch there, she had just enough
time to take a casual posture under the lamp, when the door screeched open and
a noisy group of five Amazons, with swords and crossbows in hands, burst into
the room. The young women were flushed with excitement of a good fight and
joyful cheer of victory. Astana was the last in and closed the door behind.
Then they saw Dina standing at the wall under the lamp and stopped, slightly
puzzled.
"How
did you get out?"
"I'm
a witch, remember?"
Unblinkingly,
Dina was drilling holes in them with her emerald eyes. As always it worked.
Under the full blast of her green cannons, the Amazons felt their happy
jubilation evaporating giving place to the raising feeling of strange
uneasiness. Sensing faltering in the morale of her troops, Astana stepped
forward.
"OK,
Dina. Let's go." She also seemed to have lost all her mocking attitude.
"No
one goes out of the room, before I say so," Dina said calmly with just a tint
of steel in her voice.
The
phrase hung in the air like a whiff of icy mist. Astana felt goosebumps of
chill crawling up her spine as if the room was suddenly getting cold. Damn! I hate the freakish creep!
Trying
not to give in to the strange swing in her mood Astana said briskly, "OK! Then
say so. And let's go."
Holding
the sword in her right hand she walked toward Dina and put the left hand on her
shoulder. Then in tiredly placating tone, "Don't make trouble, Dina. Be a doll.
Let's go home."
"Home?"
Dina smiled her trademark little-girl smile. "Home is good."
She
raised her arm, and in a flash of a movement whipped the oil lamp off the hook
and threw its burning contents into Astana's face. Astana flew hands to her
face and screamed; the boiling oil was hissing and bubbling on her skin. The
room plunged into pitch darkness. Going by touch, Dina gathered the chain from
the floor, looped it tightly around Astana's neck and yanked it with both hands
in opposite directions, as hard as she could. With satisfaction she felt the
crushing of cartilage as the rusty links were sawing through the windpipe. The
screams turned into a horrible rasping sound, as Astana was scratching at the
chain. Then it abruptly stopped with a loud dry crack of the broken neck, and
the cavern grew deathly still.
It
all happened very fast. Only too late Amazons snapped out of their stupor and
rushed forward to help their leader. Groping in the darkness, they stumbled on
Astana's lifeless body, sticky with hot oil, lying facedown on the floor. Dina
was gone. Then an anguished cry shook the blackness behind them! Dina found her
way around them in the darkness, and stabbed one of the Amazons, Nogana, in the
back with Astana's sword.
Now
what? Amazons stood probing the darkness around them with swords and straining
to see anything in the dense gloom. With Astana down and Dina lurking somewhere
between them and the door, they were in trouble. Dina had a definite advantage;
she could stab, slice, cut or hit anyone she came upon. But how they were
supposed to tell a friend from the enemy if they couldn't even see their own
hands in front of their noses!
Leda
felt a feather-light touch of somebody's fingers on her face. The hand gently
brushed her breasts, then slid down to her stomach.
"Who
is it?" She moved the inquisitive hand away with the tip of her sword. The
answer was a bolt of searing pain shooting through her heart as Dina drove a
sword into Leda's chest. With a cry of pain and surprise the girl dropped her
weapon, clasped both hands around the blade jutting from her pierced bosom and
sagged to the floor.
"Dina!
It was all Astana's idea! We didn't want to come!" Arba, the youngest of the
group, whined in a shrill, panicky voice.
"I'm
so damn out of here!" Llana, the other one of the two last Amazons, bolted
across the black void toward the door.
Her
blind reckoning was right on the money, and she hit the door with her
outstretched arms after twenty or so running steps. With the sharp creak of
protesting hinges, the wooden monster started opening. From the far side of the
chamber Arba saw Llana silhouetted in the dim light filtering from outside
through the crack. She was pushing the door further when Dina landed on her
back like a big black insect. She wound Llana's long ponytail around her left
palm, swung a knife in a wide shining arch and plunged it between the girl's
shoulders. Llana gasped and arched backwards. For several moments Arba saw two
women standing together as if in embrace: Llana with her head thrown back,
helplessly waiving her arms in the air, reaching up to the light, and Dina
clinging to her from behind, shaking and thrashing her from side to side,
thrusting the blade deeper into Llana's back. Then Dina wrestled her kill down
to the floor and dragged the body, still twitching in agony, out of the light
into darkness. The door swung closed with a bang.
Absolutely
terrified by a grisly scene, Arba staggered backward until she pressed herself
to the cold, damp stone of the cave. With her back to the wall, at least Dina
wouldn't be able to grab her from behind, couldn't leech to her like a
blood-sucking spider! Arba's shocked imagination readily flashed a picture of a
huge, fat, black, ugly spider with Dina's face, sucking and munching on Llana's
corpse. She could almost hear the ruffling of multiple clawed legs on the stony
floor!
I must get out of this lair before I lost it
completely! She could hear her
heart thudding louder and louder in her own ears. Get hold of yourself! Stay calm! It won't do you any good to panic! It almost worked. At least she stopped
hearing the shuffle of spider's legs. The only sounds were those she made
breathing, trying to slow her pounding heart. She stretched her left hand to
the left feeling her way along the wall. Then she started moving with careful
steps, keeping her back pressed to the safety of the hard stone. With the sword
in her right hand she was poking, slashing, dicing the darkness in front of
herself, making sure that neither Dina, nor a huge black spider, nor anything
else out there would get to her from that direction. Every several steps she
would stop and listen intently, all wound up like a coiled spring, to any
movement or stealthy steps closing in on her. The silence and darkness wrapped
around her like a thick wool blanket so dense, she could hardly breathe through it. Arba has probably never been
terrified like that before in her entire life. She wasn't a brave warrioress
anymore; just a little girl again, scared out of her wits, lost forever in an
unending nightmare of a terrible dream!
After
ten minutes of this torturously slow journey around the room, her left hand
touched the iron handle. Two more paces, and she pressed herself to the rough
planks of the door. Almost there! A
faint glimmer of a hope rose within her chest. She doubled the intensity of her
crazy fencing with a shadow and pushed with her legs and back. The heavy door
didn't bulge. Oh, no! The door is stuck!
I trapped forever in this tomb with corpses and Dina-spider! Oh, please!
Please, Lord, don't let it be stuck!
She
pushed stronger, desperately, putting all the strength in her legs into the
push. With shrill grate of wood on stone the door yielded. First slow, then
faster, faster it started swivel on its hinges, and Arba almost fell, back
first, out into the vestibule. She threw herself onto the door, slamming it
shut, and leaned her forehead to the cool metal of the iron braces. She was
flooded, almost overwhelmed with a wonderful feeling of relief. She did it!
Yes, she did it! She was out and still alive! Wonderfully, deliciously alive!
"I
thought you will never come out."
Arba
jumped and spun around, heart in her throat. Dina was standing behind her with
the arms crossed on her chest.
"What
took you so long?" Dina demanded pouting her lips like a spoiled brat.
Though
Arba had a sword in her hand, a thought to charge Dina with it didn't even
crossed her mind. Instead she started talking fast, almost blathering.
"Look,
Dina, I'm really, really sorry! It was all Astana's idea. We didn't want to go.
Please don't kill me. I've never meant to do you any harm! Any! I actually
admire you!"
"You
do?" Dina's feline eyes glided over Arba's body from face to toe and back to
her face with amused interest. "What's your name?"
"Arba."
"OK,
Arba. I won't kill you. You can go."
Arba
nodded, turned and headed down the tunnel. Just before she was about to
disappear around the turning, Dina called her.
"Arba!"
The
girl stopped and looked back. "Yes, Dina."
"Before
you left, could you do me a little favor?"
Arba
nodded.
"Could
you put the meat into the larder?" Dina nudged one of the bodies on the tunnel
floor with her foot and jerked her head toward the door to her former prison.
"You, guys, killed them - you must learn how to clean after yourselves."
Arba
nodded again. She sheathed her sword and came back. One after another she
dragged five bodies - four Lumaras and one Amazon, the casualties of the brief
skirmish in the tunnel - into the dark room and put them in a neat row to the
left from the door.
"And,
Arba, be a pal. Could you put some light into the room? The girls wanted to
talk to me. What happened? Cat got their tongues?" Dina giggled.
Obediently
Arba took one of the burning lamps from the tunnel, brought it in and hanged on
the wall. In the disturbed, unstable light of the lamp shapeless shadows
started dancing across the walls. Arba looked around. It's a tomb. Lifeless forms were scattered all over the floor.
Right at her feet Astana was lying on the stomach, her head turned to her left
shoulder; the chain was still coiled around her neck. The wave of long hair
fell over her face in a cascade of glossy black. And Arba was thankful for
that; she didn't think that Astana's face was still pretty.
Bent
over Astana's lower back was Leda. A crude Amazonian sword with a black handle
in the shape of a leaping panther was stuck between the gentle mounts of her
breasts. The flickering flames, reflected in her glassy eyes, made them alive
with twinkles and sparks of red light seemingly coming from inside her skull.
Uneasily Arba thought that the corpse was stealing amber glances in her
direction.
Farther
toward the center was Nagana. She was lying on her right side looking away from
Arba, the head slumped on her arms, her right leg stretched out and the left
one bent at right angle flat on the floor in front of her body. The play of
firelight on her back created illusion of muscles rippling and rolling under
the bronze skin. She is sleeping and having a bad dream. The
short sword embedded to the hilt between her shoulder blades didn't seem to be
of any inconvenience to Nagana at all.
Llana
was sprawled on her back to the right from the door, in the corner, where Dina
had dragged her to just before slipping out of the room herself. Llana's chest
and upper belly were arched upward, propped from beneath with something that
didn't let her flatten herself completely on the floor. Something, which was
firmly embedded in her back. Pools of darkness on her face, just beyond the
reach of wavering light from the lamp, seemed to slink and slide, constantly
changing their shapes as if she was grimacing. Or reciting an endless silent
monologue; the one only she could hear.
A
strange thought came to Arba's mind. They
are not dead. They all are only pretending to be dead. They are UNDEAD!!! Get
out of here, girl, while you still can. Before they start getting up. With
their gnarled fingers, gaping hungry mouths, eyes alight with unearthly fire!
Out! Now! She didn't move. Too late. It's too late. She raised her
eyes from the macabre display on the floor and look at Dina, who was standing
at the door just inside the room. Dina bent down and picked up Llana's
crossbow. Unhurriedly, taking her time, she inserted an arrow and cocked the
trigger.
"I'm
sorry, Arba. I changed my mind." Dina shrugged. "You see, it wouldn't be fair
to the girls, if I killed them and didn't kill you." She was smiling almost
apologetically.
Arba
didn't say a word. She couldn't take her deep dark eyes, huge with the horror
of sudden realization, from the weapon in Dina's hands. Slowly Dina raised the
crossbow to her shoulder, took aim and shot her in the chest. Without a sound
the girl crumpled atop the pile of bodies on the floor, as if she was already
dead even before Dina's arrow went through her heart.
Dina
looked around checking if anyone else needed her attention. No one did.
Carefully stepping over the bodies, she crossed the floor to the lamp and
closed the lid. Then she walked out, locked the door and disappeared into the
darkness of Serval labyrinth.