The Watchtower Page 9
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Aslin didn’t care for the confined space of the underground corridor. He was a man of the wide open skies and lush forest. Being underground was confining and if he needed to summon the elements, he had precious little space to do it in, or risk serious harm to his companions.
He walked ahead of the other two, keeping the incantation of the Ethereal Flames foremost in his mind. Should they be ambushed, he was better at a quick retaliation than them, especially as Daniel was still too overcome by grief at the death of those creatures.
Barb stopped. “Listen. Do you hear that?”
Aslin tilted his head. The sound of a male voice could just be heard from somewhere up ahead. The tone was low, even. The perfect tone for spell-casting.
Daniel walked up beside him. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Someone is reciting an incantation,” Aslin said, readying his fingers.
Cautiously, he took a few steps forward. They were coming to the end of the corridor. Aslin frowned. If they were entering a place of ritual, why weren’t there more guards protecting the area? Firelight flickered on the wall just ahead of them as they walked up to the entrance of another room. Still no guards. Cautiously, Aslin peeked around the corner.
A large stone altar sat in the centre of the room with a young girl tied to it. There were two people chained to the wall on either side of the altar. Their mouths were gagged with material, with a large number of people standing around dressed in black robes.
Barb peeked around Aslin. “Over there, second from the altar,” she whispered. “That’s the guy I saw at the airport.”
Aslin focused on one member who stepped up to the altar. The face was hidden under a heavy hood, but as words were spoken, a gruff male voice was distinguishable. A large serrated dagger appeared in his hands and was positioned over the girl’s chest. He spoke words in the ancient language of magic, something Aslin remembered his grandfather reciting. How would a new coven have such knowledge?
“Ritual sacrifice,” Aslin said. “A tell-tale sign of dark magic.”
Barb looked up at him. “Can we do anything to stop them?”
Aslin didn’t take his eyes off the ritual. “And what would you have us do, Miss Dole? Charge in and beat them up?”
“We can’t just let them kill her! Can’t you command the elements to do something?”
“There is only Earth and Fire in these corridors, and there is not enough room for either to work well together.”
“But there’s air down here, and—”
Aslin looked into her eyes. The firelight glimmered in the reflections of her tears. He shook his head slowly and pulled her back to the safety of the corridor wall.
“Even if we were to surprise them,” Aslin began, “you and Daniel would be severely outnumbered. I could not help you. All my focus would be concentrated on their leader and trying to stop the ritual.” He looked over at Daniel. “It would be impossible for you two to incapacitate everyone on your own.”
Barb slumped forward. “But we have to do something!”
“I agree,” Aslin said. “But we would be foolish to act so irrationally.”
Daniel’s eyes lit up. “Maybe we should go back and get Jezryall and Martin. She could take all the baddies out with one stroke.”
“And the innocent as well. The demon side of her is inexperienced. It does not understand the concept of restraint.”
A loud cheer raced through the stone corridor, followed the distinct sound of a knife slicing though flesh. Aslin closed his eyes and whispered an ancient Druid prayer for the young woman.
“Come,” he said, reaching for Barb. “Let us re-group with Jezryall and Martin.”
Barb stiffened under Aslin’s touch, and pulled away when Daniel reached out to her. Her aura glowed a deep red of pain and sorrow. Aslin looked over at Daniel, who sighed and followed behind her.