Sixty-eight

Everyone I have ever met is in the damn room. No exceptions were made. Including Gerald, Sophie, Abe and Lorin. I've known them for a total of twelve hours and yet they are here.

Among the crowd I find a tuff of blond hair, peeking from behind Enid. He is unconscious. They look at me mournfully, but no one says anything. And other than them there isn't anyone else in the room.

I know for a fact that this room has hidden compartments within the walls, and is crammed with all sorts of weapons.

I find Laira in the crowd, and she eyes at me suggestively, and I follow her line of sight as her gaze drifts downwards to her feet and that's when I notice, the eerie glow coming out of the floors.

I don't need years of experience in the arcane to know what that is. A spell has been cast over the room but doesn't reach from wall to wall, so it must be fairly weak.

Mason stirring drags my attention back to him while Enid shuffles slightly to the side so I can have a better look.

Ava steps over him, points at me and then says something but the barrier must be obstructive because sound doesn't pass through. That's why no one says anything.

And I'm kind of glad I don't have to listen to Ava's nonsensical ramblings for once.

I don't hold a great deal of knowledge about enchantments, but this one must require the presence of the spellcaster to be able to break it off. The floor is clean, there are no visible markings on it, and I know for a fact that he or she must be in the vicinity.

Lowering the painting, I slide it next to the wall, and drop it on the floor, while with the other hand, I slightly nudge the panel open, grateful that it doesn't make a sound.

I spot a twin set of boomerang-like blades, and I can't help myself from smiling.

Witches, daiò, cult leaders, cult followers, and other oddities of nature, I list them all in my head as I turn my back to the wall to face the room.

Using my heel, I nudge that panel an inch at a time, waiting for Shay or my little windy friend to show up at any moment.

Whoever is behind this, is going to die. Even if that means I die along with him or her. Women are equally vicious, probably even more than men.

Mason slowly pushes himself off the floor and looks around the room confused, and a tad angry. I see it when the confusion dissipates and violent rage sets in.

" No," He says as his gaze finds mine, and I give him a rueful smile. He probably didn't expect me to come armed with a painting.

Gerald says something and Mason's head snaps in his direction and rubs his temples exasperated.

It looks like an odd display at a zoo. Although, I don't know who is the visitor and who is the creature on display. With each passing second, I feel more and more inclined to believe that they have been brought here as leverage and as witnesses to my demise.

Quite dramatic. And unnecessary.

Gerald slides to his friend's side and they begin to chatter furiously drawing the attention of everyone else while I use that time to arm myself with one of the blades.

I slide it into the waistband of my borrowed trousers, trying to keep my movements to a minimum to avoid cutting myself.

By the time, I free the second blade the crowd has worked themselves up into a frenzy. Everyone is speaking at the same time, and I sort of wish I'd be involved or at least hear what they are saying.

Shay is the first one to appear inside the circle bringing in yet another person. Carefully, I study the newcomer but it doesn't rouse any type of memories. I don't remember meeting him or ever seeing him in my life.

Gritting my teeth, I scowl at the sarteri who turns his head, his electric eyes peer into mine with something resembling an apology. Truth be told, I don't think I'd ever be able to be angry at Shay for long.

He blinks away into a ball of light, and for the first time since Gallassos, I see Graham in the crowd looking dejected.

He stares at the floor and I refuse to believe that he has had a hand in orchestrating any of this. Shay has become a free agent, serving another master the moment he woke up in Helej, a year later after we arrived.

He'd made that abundantly clear every single time he'd dropped me in a place that would guarantee my death.

Out of all things, the waiting is the worst part of it. Fighting an invisible opponent has its drawbacks. At this point, he or she has the upper hand and making the most of it.

After a little bit more bickering among themselves, the crowd settles, and watch Mason carve a path through the crowd towards me

He won't be able to pass through the barrier erected between us but I have a feeling that if I take a step forward I'd slide in effortlessly.

Cautiously, Mason pokes the barrier but recoils when it zaps him, just enough to warn him to keep at a distance.

His eyes find mine, and then drift down the length of my body and then sighs, " You shouldn't be here," He mouths slowly, as I push off the wall, and carefully lean forward.

" And yet here I am," I smile up at him and realise that if this is my last day on earth, he'd be the last man I'd want to see before I give my last breath.

With a sorrowful look, he nods and looks up to study the barrier. It connects the floor to the ceiling and even though I know he would be able to find a way over it. Even with all his mighty strength, he can't break through the ceiling or the barrier.

Before the final countdown begins, I need to say something that has been weighing me down since the moment I've connected those dots," I'm sorry," I say the moment Mason's attention turns back to me, to which he frowns, looking confused.

" For what they did to your mother, and you," I clamp my mouth shut, so I don't begin to blabber pointlessly. I know it's not worth much, but still, it needs to be said. A simple word cannot take back all the damage that has been done but sometimes it helps.

Understanding washes over him, and nods, " No need to apologise. What's done its done, " He mouths slowly, as Laira takes a step forward, and looks at the barrier as if it's something that she could solve with the power of her tools. The force field looks familiar though. It gives out a faint golden glow, with purple edges, and it sort of reminds me of the filaments of energy that flow through me and Mason.

" It's the deca," Laira mouths, and it doesn't take an engineering degree to understand what she is trying it say. The decahedrons I've made for Laira are being used against me. Clever, clever, clever.

But I also know it doesn't last forever unless they are using the entire supply I've made for Laira. Which is twenty-odd, and that means that wherever they've placed them, is somewhere under the room where we stand, to create the bubble.

" What's under?" I ask the only person who might offer me a usable answer, Mason.

He looks around the room for a few moments before deciding to reveal the information.

" The heart of Zareen," He mouths, and I know it will take him a while to explain it that way.

From the corner of my eye, I see Laira rummage through her pockets, pulling out a pen that she uses to mark the materials she uses in the lab.

It writes white, very similar to chalk but takes a lot more than the brush of fingers to wipe it off. I should know, she used it to draw on my forehead, because she was bored and I was asleep.

Luckily, I could wear a hat without looking ridiculous. Middle of the winter and all that.

I guess this hasn't been all that bad after all.

Mason takes the pen and begins to write directions and explain what exactly lies beneath the room we are standing on top of. It must be some ancient relic, of mystical provenance. Since Zareen has withstood and remained unchanged for thousands of years. The reason why Zareen is built on this very ground.

Under all the scribbles he draws something that looks like a pilar and makes a circle around it. Of course, the spell was never a spell, hence why it couldn't be broken.

The pillar is a source, one that powers Zareen, making it all that is today.

I don't claim to have an understanding of the arcane, but sometimes some things go beyond our power to untangle and understand. Perhaps, in some ways is for the best.

I study the sketch on the floor, as Mason adds the final touches, and adds on the entry point which is right in the middle of the room, behind the barrier. If I want to get in, I'd have to cross the barrier which is what they want.

Mason pats his chest " I go," He says making him look so barbaric that it's almost hilarious if it weren't for the deep shit we are in.

But I know he won't be able to open the door that leads to the sublevel because they don't want him. They want me.

With a deep breath, I nod and let him proceed. He pushes his way through the people in the room and stops dead in the middle where the stone pedestal lies. I remember the markings on it and now I know why they were there. Why the stone was placed dead in the middle of the room?

Heath steps forward and says something that I can't hear, but by the way, his lips move, there is blood involved.

Mason always carries a concealed blade with him, and as expected he slides a small one from the heel of his shoe.

I haven't seen much of Heath, but I don't see the one person who might be able to lend us a hand in a fight. T'aethi is nowhere in sight and I can't help but wonder if she put up a fight and things ended badly for her.

I do spot Nareen and Denmar who are carefully assessing the crowd around, the strange place, looking just as lost as a child away from home.

In the meantime, Heath has sliced open the palm of his hand and begins to drip blood in a certain pattern, one that I try to memorise, just in case.

Once it's done, they both sit back on their heels and wait, while the newcomer slides from one spot to another, assessing the crowd but doesn't meet my eyes. He hasn't looked at me once, not when I was paying attention anyway.

Minutes pass and nothing happens, but the newcomer has gained my full attention, mostly because of the evil smirk he is wearing. No one that has been abducted and trapped in an underground place that he has never seen, is that relaxed, or smug about it.

Mason standing up, distracts me for a second and in that second the newcomer moves again, sliding just mere inches off the barrier. No, he knows what he is doing.

Slowly I reach for one of the blades tucked in my waistband and wait, for Mason to look at me. But he is too engrossed in a conversation with Heath, and now Jacqueline who has stepped forward to offer her opinion, they are too distracted to notice the man that is keenly listening in.

I'd shout, but there is no point. Laira on the other hand has taken to study the floorboards right where the barrier emerges as if it holds the answers to the miseries of the universe.