45. Sacred Day Of Sacrifice

Farrah, wide-eyed and flustered, stammered, "I'm sorry! I didn't notice."

Cara sighed and looked away, scanning her surroundings in search of a way out. The net swung gently, creaking under their combined weight. She studied the strange figures, who watched them intently from below.

'Hagrit, some help here. How do I get out of this without breaking my neck?'

[You have to embrace the pain, Cara.]

'That's a shitty answer right now. Try again. Be serious.'

Before Hagrit would respond, one of the figures stepped forward. He was a heavyset man with olive skin, his muscles bulging as if he spent every waking moment working out. His deep, rumbling voice was both commanding and unnerving.

"Who are you two?" he asked, his tone accusatory. "What brings you here? This is a sacred day of sacrifice. Outsiders are not welcome."

Cara blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. "Oh, you speak English?"

The man's eyes narrowed as he barked, "Of course, I speak English! We all do. We're Americans."

"Okay, okay! No need to bite my head off," Cara said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I just assumed—well, you know what? Forget it. Can you just get us down from here so we can leave and stop 'interrupting' your… sacred sacrifice or whatever?"

Before the man could respond, Farrah piped up, "Cara, but we haven't seen my grandma yet!"

Cara turned to her with an incredulous look. "I don't think she wants to be seen right now, Farrah. Let's just go home before this situation gets worse."

The man smirked, cutting into their exchange. "Hey! Stop whispering. If you two don't want to tell us who you are, no problem. That's even better."

Farrah frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

The man's grin widened as he gestured around the group. "It's better because we don't have to bother remembering your names. You see, on sacred days like this, the spirits provide us with something—or in this case someone—that must be sacrificed. And today, you two are the chosen ones."

He turned back to the gathering, his voice growing louder as he began chanting, prompting the group to join in. The rhythmic hum of their voices filled the air, primal and unnerving.

Farrah's face went pale, and she whispered to herself, Did I take a wrong turn? And missed my way

Cara, her patience gone, yelled over the noise, "Shut up!"

The chanting stopped abruptly, and the man turned toward her, a mixture of irritation and amusement on his face. "What is it, mouthy young lady? You don't want to be sacrificed?"

"Who in their right mind wants to be sacrificed?" Cara shot back.

"It's an honor," the man replied with mock sincerity.

Cara chuckled, though it did little to mask the rage simmering beneath her calm exterior. She squinted at him, her expression turning cold. "Marco, is it?"

The man's face stiffened. He blinked in surprise. "Yes… My name is Marco. How the hell did you know that?"

"I know your name just like I know this," Cara said, her tone darkening. "If you don't get me and my friend out of this trap right now, I'm going to burn this entire place to the ground."

For a moment, silence blanketed the group. Then Marco broke it with a laugh, a deep, rumbling sound that rippled through the crowd until everyone joined in.

"You're tied up in a net, and you're throwing threats at us?" Marco mocked, his grin widening. "What a mouthy broad you are."

Cara's expression didn't waver. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she said, her voice icy and sharp, like the calm before a storm.

Without hesitation, Cara stretched her arms up to grip the net entangling her legs. A fiery glow spread from her hands, burning through the ropes until they snapped. She dropped to the ground with a thud, pain radiating through her body. This must be what Hagrit meant about embracing the pain cuz damn this hurts, she thought as she pushed herself to her feet.

Marco's eyes widened in disbelief, and he barked an order to his followers. "Everyone, grab her!"

Four men charged toward Cara, but she raised her hands, unleashing bursts of fire that sent them flying backward. The remaining crowd scattered, their fear palpable as they watched the display of power.

Cara glanced at the devastation she'd caused and allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. I could really burn this place to the ground, she mused.

Among the chaos, a woman in the group began chanting, her voice laced with magic. Cara read her mind and realized the woman was trying to bind her with invisible chains. Oh, so they're witches, Cara thought, smirking as she sent a fireball hurtling toward the woman. The spellcaster was flung backward, silenced before she could finish her incantation.

Cara continued firing blasts indiscriminately, her hands like weapons, scattering the remaining crowd in every direction.

Then her gaze locked on Marco. Though shaken, he remained defiant. With a roar, he charged at her. Cara smirked, extending her right hand toward him. A fiery blast struck him square in the chest, sending him flying to the ground.

Turning to Farrah, who was still tangled in the net, Cara quickly burned through the ropes, freeing her friend. Farrah stared at her, wide-eyed and breathless.

"When did you… how did you… get these powers?" Farrah stammered.

"I'd love to explain everything," Cara said, helping her to her feet, "but now's not the time or place."

Farrah nodded quickly. "Right, okay. Let's get out of here."

As they turned to leave, Cara noticed Marco struggling to his feet. Damn, he's built like a tank, she thought.

Cara strode toward him, her expression dark and resolute. Sensing her intent, Farrah grabbed her arm. "There's no need for this, Cara. Let's just go."

Cara met her gaze, her voice low. "I just want to talk to him."

Reluctantly, Farrah released her grip.

Cara approached Marco, her presence radiating menace. The once-rowdy crowd now watched in silent terror from a safe distance.

"So, Marco," Cara said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Do you still think I'm just a mouthy broad? Do you still believe you can sacrifice me and my friend to your spirits?"

Marco glared at her, his chest heaving. "No," he spat, "but you are a crazy bitch."

The insult lit a fuse inside Cara. Her hands ignited, and she stepped closer, ready to unleash another blast when a sudden, overwhelming force knocked her backward.

Cara landed hard, disoriented, as a figure emerged from the trees. An older woman, her graying black hair flowing around her shoulders, stepped into view. She wore a long white gown, her presence commanding immediate respect.

"That's enough, fairy," the woman said firmly, her voice calm but authoritative. "There's no need for anyone to die here today."

Before Cara could respond, Farrah cried out, her voice breaking with relief. "Grandma!"

She ran toward the woman, leaving Cara staring in stunned silence.