Zhanna jumped up and had him sit down in her place. Kneeling in the dust in front of him she grabbed his hands to still their frantic flailing. “Peter, what is wrong?” she asked. The man could not form a coherent sentence.

  Stefan came running over, alerted by some of the others in the village. Sliding to a stop by his old friend, The older merc placed both hands on the man’s heaving shoulders. Holding his gaze on the man’s eyes, he tried to get a report. It was impossible.

  Finally, Peter managed to gasp out, “Like Liravev – one still breathing. Need priest!” Stefan and all the other mercs in the area straightened as if they had been shot. Every one of them had that withdrawn look of seeing bad memories. Zhanna asked, “Stefan, what is it?”

  In a remote voice, sounding like he was speaking from thousands of miles away, Stefan responded. He said, “The battle at Liravev involved a demon cult. They had blood mages, three of them. We lost 90% of our group in that battle. The blood mages had raised their power by torturing and sacrificing their family members.”

  Raising a tortured gaze to stare at Zhanna through memories of horror and pain, Stefan said, “We had hoped you were wrong. That he might be a blood mage was so wrong, so evil, that we didn’t want to think it of one of us. But only a blood mage would do that to his family.” Dropping his head down Stefan cried.

  Mikhail had come up during Stefan’s anguished speech, and he chose that moment to touch Zhanna on the forearm. He said, “We need to get the priests there to give the bodies last rites. It may help their souls, and it may deny Krava some of the power that he hoped to raise.”

  When Zhanna stood up to go with him, her normally cheerful friend shook his head. He said, “I will just take those that were in Liravev. This will be one more memory to keep those other memories of horror company on the dark nights of our souls. There is no need to taint anyone else with pictures of what we will find.”

  Zhanna bowed her head in agreement, but the fire of retribution went from an ember to a roaring flame inside of her heart. This must not continue.

  <<<>>>

  It had been just as bad as Stefan had thought. The mercenaries that came back from the outlying farms reported torture scenes and death. The two priests in the local church were kept busy with last rites and attempts to comfort the survivors. One of Krava’s parents had been tortured to death while the other had been tortured to the point that she would die a lingering, miserable death. Frantic with the pain and suffering, she had asked to be put out of her misery. The priest had refused, horrified at what she wanted.

  Bolormaa had gone to visit the woman, speaking the words of comfort she could. She told Zhanna when she came back that Krava’s mother was worried that he would continue to drain power from her if she stayed alive. She also worried that an unbroken connection meant that he would own her soul after she was dead. Horrified, the young witch asked, “Baba, is that possible?”

  Her grandmother’s nod of sad confirmation gave Zhanna the chills and filled her with foreboding. Trying to find a solution kept the young woman’s sleep restless that night. She resolved to go and visit the woman the next day, but when she told Stefan of her plans, he informed her that the woman had died during the evening. Somehow, she had found something that allowed her to die relatively painlessly.

  Glancing sideways at her grandmother’s face, Zhanna simply commented, “I am sorry for her pain and for everything that she endured, I hope she’s at peace now.”

  <<<>>>

  For once, all the mercenary troops in the village were united in their approach. Stefan had taken over as the commander of the village watch. He had the mercenaries deployed and had sent communications out to those in the field warning them about Krava. Although everyone was on alert, there was no sighting, no word, and no whisper of where the blood mage had gone.

  Some of the people in the village thought that perhaps he had gone away and they were feeling relieved. Zhanna and her grandmother did not think that was likely. Most of the mercenaries agreed with them. They kept watch and tried to make plans.

  They were in reaction mode. Never a good place to be.

  Something had to give, and it probably was not going to be pleasant when it went.

  Four days after the battle the square Zhanna woke to a feeling of impending doom. It stained the air with the smell of death, teasing the edges of her vision with sharp-edged particles and partially seen shadows.

  <> asked Dascha.

  <>

  <>

  <>

  The familiar had no response for her witch. They both knew that things were coming to a head. They did not know where or when, but the feel in the air, the pricking of their thumbs, told them that something was coming.

  <<<>>>

  Zhanna decided to go and work off some of her energy on the practice grounds. She needed to keep up her practice if she is going to be any good in the battle and it seemed like the village was well covered for that day. She wanted some alone time, but that was not to be. Stefan insisted that anyone going out of the village would be in a party of at least four people. Instead of a nice quiet workout time by herself, Zhanna had an escort of Mikhail and two other mercenaries that she didn’t know very well. And of course, she had her familiar.

  It was a party, just not a very happy party. Mikhail and Zhanna had spent a rather satisfying couple of hours blowing things up and targeting things. They had run through the basic training spells to activate opponents and situations. They both were feeling better with the release of tension.

  Zhanna considered this one of the best innovations that she had learned while they were away. To make the situation real enough that your reflexes can be honed for better survival without having anything really trying to kill you. It was something that she planned on continuing and even improving.

  She and Mikail tried to encourage the other two mercenaries to practice. Unfortunately, neither one of them was brave enough to try the loaded exercises at this point. Zhanna wondered if they should get some advice on simpler exercises to bring people along at a slower speed.

  I will have to think about that, she thought to herself.

  The galloping of a horse brought all them to full alert. Spreading out into a defensive posture, they readied their spells or weapons and waited to see who would be arriving. To Zhanna’s overwhelming surprise, it was Bolormaa. The old woman sat astride Stefan’s prize stallion as if she was welded there. The horse, difficult for anyone to ride, including Stefan, was an absolute angel for the Mongolian woman. The seer ran the horse up straight to Zhanna’s side and slid off quickly

  “Baba, what’s wrong?” Even as she asked her questions, Zhanna knew that it was Krava. He had reappeared, and the answer was not going to make her happy.

  Looking at her granddaughter through the weathered countenance of an old woman, the fire of a young girl from the Mongolian steppes shown brightly. Her Baba answered, “It’s Krava. He has taken over the school and has the children and teachers hostage. He insists he will negotiate with no one but you. Just you, no familiar.”

  The seer had delivered the message, and now the grandmother came out. “He is planning on hurting you, hurting you badly. He is a blood mage. He has no honor. I do not want you to go.”

  Zhanna replied, as Bolormaa knew that she would, “He has no honor, but I do. I will go, and we will all do what we must.”

  Chapter 21

  Zhanna could not remember being more scared in her entire life. Walking deliberately into a situation that could get her hurt or killed was not something she thought she would ever have to do. She simply could not think of a different way of carrying out the rescue. Making herself a mental promise to freak out later, Zhanna straightened her back and walked forward. Right into a blow that knocked her against the wall.

  As the black spots rapidly covered her conscious mind with shades of forgetfulness, she dimly heard a voice through the ringing in her ears. “Now, you will pay, suka.”

  <<<>>>

  Everything hurt. That was the first feeling, the first impression, that pierced the deadened veil around her mind. Where she was, what had happened? She couldn’t remember, couldn’t think.

  Her jaw hurt worst of all, so she tried to raise her hand toward her face. There was a clink of metal, and her fingers were stopped short of her cheek. A small moan escaped her mouth, reflecting the pain and confusion that she was frantically trying to get past.

  “Shush, it will be OK. Just finish waking up before you move.”

  It was a voice that she knew, that she trusted. Believing the voice, she waited for a few minutes as her vision cleared and her memory returned. She had been walking into the school. It was supposed to be part of the plan to rescue the children. She had agreed to come in and negotiate, leaving all weapons and her familiar behind her.

  <> Zhanna remembered now. Someone had struck her as soon as she had gone out of the sight of the rest of her allies. And there had been a voice… Someone she knew.

  “Do you feel well enough to drink a little water, Zhanna?”

  The young woman opened her eyes and blearily focused on the older woman addressing her. It was Yana, the main teacher of mathematics in the school. As Zhanna’s vision cleared, she could see that the woman was bedraggled and tired-looking. She was also only partially dressed. Ignoring that for a moment, the mage asked, “Where am I and what is happened? And, please, where are the children?”

  The teacher looked Zhanna in the face and responded, as tears ran down her cheeks, “I could not save all of them, please forgive me.” Dropping her head onto her hands, Yana began to sob broken-heartedly. Without thinking, Zhanna stretched her hand out in comfort only to be brought up short and to the sound of clinking metal. A short chain attached manacles on each of her wrists together, and a longer chain ran from the center of that down to each ankle. She would have difficulty moving, and it would be almost impossible to move quickly.

  Staring wide-eyed at the massive metal chains, Zhanna swore in a low fervent voice, “Dishonorable pigs! Ask for negotiation and hide behind that to violate their honor! Ublyudki i duraki!”

  At the last phrase, the mage was startled to hear a small giggle in the corner of the room. Looking up, Zhanna saw the gleam of three pairs of small eyes. Glancing at the still sobbing teacher, the mage said in her gentlest voice, “Could you please come and hug the teacher? It seems I cannot do that right now and she really needs a hug.”

  For a moment, Zhanna did not think the children would come out of the corner. Finally, one of the bravest, a fine-boned little girl with black hair and violet eyes crept out. The girl’s eyes darted fearfully between the mage and the area behind her. Being careful not to make any sudden movements or loud noises, the young woman smiled approvingly at the little girl.

  The child was dressed in a motley of different clothes. Zhanna now knew where the teacher’s extra garments had gone. The room was cold and damp feeling, with a disquieting sense of danger. Even with one of the teacher’s blouses covering her own clothing, the little girl looked chilled.

  As the little one touched the shoulder of the sobbing older woman, a sound in the hallway could be heard. Instantly, Yana transformed from grief to protective fury. Snatching up the child, she flung her body back into the shadows, cradling the little one against her chest. It was as if she had disappeared. There was no sound, no indication that anyone was in the cell other than Zhanna.

  Burying her fear deep below the surface of her mind, Zhanna reined her rebellious thoughts under control. Concentrating on her hard-earned skills, she drew energy into her core, dissipating the lingering sense of pain and shoring up the weakness of her bruised body. A part of her was thankful for the pain-filled lessons of the last few months. The skills that she had learned in the battles with first the Vrxa and then the soul-sucking plants had taught her how to power her magic even without her familiar by her side. She had even learned how to work around the metal contact that would have kept other mages from being able to cast spells.

  If the faceless ones, these dishonorable wizards, thought that they were going to win through their treachery, they had a new lesson coming. The light of battle in her eyes, Zhanna turned to face what came next.

  Of course, it was Krava. The stink of old blood and rotten meat around him had intensified. It was so bad, Zhanna had to concentrate to avoid vomiting all over his feet. How could they have been so blind to not see what he had become? The miasma of darkness clung to him like sticky, black cotton candy to her curiously doubled sight.

  Careful not to shake her head too hard, Zhanna just looked at him. He preened, seeing her gaze. Apparently, in his own mind, he saw her gaze is admiring. It was anything but.

  When she didn’t speak, Krava started posturing. Apparently, he needed somebody to admire him. He told her in great detail about how powerful he was now. Minimizing how he had gathered his power, he simply said that his parents had given it to him. And not only his parents. He boasted about cousins and uncles, nieces and nephews.

  A click of connection in Zhanna’s mind suddenly made her realize that the people that were missing were all related to Krava. He had been gathering the most efficient sources of his power, all while they were clueless.

  It was the hardest thing that she had ever done not to try to strangle him with her bare hands. Only the knowledge of her need to recover kept him in one piece at that point.

  Zhanna could sense the desperate efforts of the teacher in the shadowed corner trying to protect the remaining small children. Krava’s prolonged visit to the cell meant an increased risk of discovery. Closing her eyes for just a moment, Zhanna sent a fervent prayer to Lada, the goddess that protects children and women, guardian of home and hearth.

  “Lady of the home, protect these innocents and she who would stand between them and danger. Give them strength and hold them in your hand.” A sharp tug on a handful of hair yanked her eyes open. Krava had gone from boastful to furious.

  “How dare you close your eyes and ignore me! You will grovel before me or I will make you rue the day you were born.”

  “I will ignore you as I wish. Your delusional and evil ways have just proved what a disgusting excuse for a human being you are. Anyone would be better off dead than submitting to you.” Zhanna knew that she was riding a very fine line with this madman. He could easily just kill her where she was, but she didn’t think he was prepared to let her go that easily. She was right.

  Screaming in incoherent rage, Krava grabbed Zhanna by the hair and one of her shoulders. Digging his fingers cruelly into her flesh, he forced her to her feet and dragged her out of the room. In his rage, he forgot to close the door to the cell. Praying that Yana would see the opportunity and get her charges out of the building, the young witch allowed herself to be dragged into further danger.

  It wasn’t a very long journey. Krava had taken the school and converted it into his own sacrificial torture chamber. The small science room had become his experimental laboratory, his altar room. The chemistry table was now a place of blood sacrifice, the various tools of a scientist had been subverted into nauseating roles. It was the place of horror now, impure and deranged.

  There were blood and body parts everywhere and conditions that would haunt Zhanna for the rest of her life, no matter how long it was. The sheer stored terror in the room seeped into her bones and caused her heart to stutter. It might have overwhelmed her at a different point in her life. But not now. Now, it filled her with rage and anger. It filled her with a desire to right this wrong and to eliminate the evil that had caused it.

  There was a pain filled whimper from the side of the room. Krava dropped Zhanna to the floor in a clatter of heavy chains. He walked over to the corner of the room as the whimpering increased in terror. He said, “Don’t worry my lovely, I will be back to finish you after I’ve started to play with your friend here.”

  It was enough. It was more than enough.

  The lessons that Mazza had insisted Zhanna practice over and over again came alive in her arms and legs. Energy filled her, coming up from the floor, feeding her through the air that she was breathing. The energy was everywhere. How could she not have understood that before?

  A breath of fresh air, the scent of ozone. Zhanna breathe deeply, drawing the essence into herself and feeling that power coursing through her veins and arteries. She was no longer tired, no longer hurt. The pain was gone, and only a resolve to right a wrong remained.

  It happened in the short time that Krava was wandering across the floor, chortling happily as he explained to Zhanna the things he was going to do to her. She blocked him out. He was not important to what she needed to do.

  She would have to take care not to slip down into the abyss for revenge. Not to sink to his levels. Whatever she did needed to be done honorably. It was her view of honor, but it needed to be true.

  Everyone defined their own sense of honor and ethics. She was no different. But it was now time to let justice take center stage. She took a deep breath.

  Krava reached down and grabbed her again cruelly dragging her to her feet. He was still explaining the horrific things he would do to her. She did not react and that infuriated him. He slapped her hard across the face, filling her eyes with stars. But she did not whimper or cry which made him even angrier

  Thinking that she had escaped him into a blankness of mind, he twisted her arm to call her back with pain. Again, she made no sound. Instead, she took another deep breath and centered. He picked her up by her shoulders and shook her. Off repeated practice let her keep going. She opened her inner senses to collect energy.