I’m a fox. Slobbering dogs and humans have been chasing me since I was a kit, and they haven’t caught me yet. That isn’t going to change today.
Rolling her eyes at his arrogance, Cynthia exhaled a careful breath. She envisioned the cage. An image formed in her mind of metal bars, a rusted lock, old hinges. She imagined the mechanism inside the lock twisting and clicking into alignment. With a flick of her brows, the lock flew free. Creaking hinges sounded moments before chaos erupted.
The Turkish baths had been arranged to lead patrons through a progression of changing rooms, showers, and variously heated saunas, growing increasingly hotter as one moved from one space to the next. The rooms created a large outer square and were connected by doors from one room to the next. Exterior doors allowed patrons to escape the progression and take an arched walkway to the central room, where a glittering pool was lit by moonlight from a glass ceiling.
The room Hamlet escaped must have been the changing room. Cynthia could hear crashing wood, shouted curses, and breaking glass as the men followed the fox in a merry chase from one room to the next and back again using the interior doors.
She ducked into a vestibule as a giant broke free from the hunt, pushing out of one of the rooms using the exterior door that opened into the corridor. Without thought, she followed him, staying close to the wall where the lamplights couldn’t penetrate the darkness.
When he stepped through an archway to cross over the large central pool room, she waited and watched.
The final sauna was separated from the rest of the rooms. Tiled on the outside to maintain utmost heat, a furnace blasted hot air through vents into the cedar-planked interior. Cynthia had read about the engineering feat months ago when Roger Evans first started construction. It sat like a jewel in the corner of the pool room and was rumoured to be able to reach temperatures of more than 60 degrees Celsius of pure, arid heat.
It was the perfect place to imprison a waterwitch.
Rage, fear, and love were potent ingredients for the spell weaving in Cynthia’s soul.
The giant re-emerged with a sweating Sinclair by his side, and the men followed the sounds of muted chaos, disappearing into a room to Cynthia’s right.
She held her breath, counted to three, and dashed across the open floor.
I’m coming, Helena.
Helena must have passed out. It seemed Sinclair had only been gone a few moments before the door opened once more. This time, the wave of cool air brought with it honeysuckle and vanilla.
Perhaps she was already dead, for scents of heaven surrounded her.
But instead of joy, despair filled her. The goddess hadn’t even allowed her spirit to remain earthbound. Heaven was nothing but a glittering hell without Cynthia.
‘Helena! Oh my God, what has he done?’
Helena forced open her eyes. She wasn’t dead yet. She was hallucinating. Why else would Cynthia be rushing across the fiendish room, mahogany hair streaming behind her like a cape, hazel eyes glowing with fierce and feral love, her soft hands fluttering over Helena’s skin like butterfly wings?
‘That fucking bastard! I’ll kill him for hurting you.’
Yes. Definitely hallucinating. A proper lady like Cynthia Burrows would never use such coarse language.
‘Leave,’ Helena gasped. If Cynthia really was there, she needed to escape. Immediately. Before Sinclair came back.
‘Yes, you sweet, stubborn, impossible woman. We’re going to leave. Right. Now.’
Helena tried to shake her head, but the world was spinning.
She heard the screeching scream of metal ripping apart as the chains connected to her leather cuffs fell around her like iron rain. With nothing holding her upright, Helena dropped in a heap on the hot cedar floor.
‘I’ve got you.’ Hands pulled her against a soft chest, and the scent of Cynthia covered her like healing balm. She tried to move, but her legs were so heavy.
Cynthia’s strong arms supported her. She could fairly taste the damp air on her tongue like dew covering the lilies as they shuffled out of the sauna and into the larger room.
‘I’m taking you to the pool. You need your element.’
Her feet bumped over the tile floor. Blessed chill covered her.
Helena’s vision cleared. The glittering water was only a few paces away. She forced her limbs to move, lurching forward.
Cynthia tried to hold her back, but her magic called to her, vibrant and vital.
Dragging free of Cynthia’s grip, her toes curled over the edge of the tile, and with the last of her strength, Helena flexed her legs, diving into the pool, swirling in the eddies as a million bubbles kissed her skin. She sank into the depths.
