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She whipped out a wooden baton and raced in as I unsheathed my knife and followed her.
"What the fuck—" the dude with the poker said when he saw Menolly heading toward him. She was in kill mode, her teeth fully extended, and he whirled around, swinging the poker at her. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the branding iron by its glowing end and yanked it out of his hand, tossing it in the air so that it landed on the other side of the room.
"Holy shit!" He screamed, but she was on him before he could get out another sound, and within a second, his head lolled to the side, and she tossed him on the ground. Straight for the kill. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
Meanwhile, Rhonda engaged Mr. Bored while I moved in on the one with the whip. He gave me the once-over and, leering, tossed the whip back and forth between his hands.
"Who's your daddy, little girl?" He smacked his lips. "Be good, and I might just give you a good fucking before I teach you not to meddle in the affairs of men."
A low growl emanated from my throat, rumbling through the room. What the hell? Where had that come from? My opponent looked a little disconcerted but raised the whip anyway.
"You like pain, pussycat?" he whispered. "Come play with the master."
"Big talk for somebody who's standing on the other side of a boulder." The perfect setup. Now, if he just stayed where he was.
I gathered myself and then raced forward and leapt onto the rock, using it as a springboard. A back flip in the air, and I landed directly behind him. Very Bruce Lee, I thought. Before he could whirl around, I thrust my blade into his left side, angling so that it struck through the heart. He had time enough to mutter something that sounded vaguely like "Fuck you" and then collapsed as I yanked my knife free.
"Thanks for the help," I said, wiping my blade on my jeans. Whatever I'd expected to feel, it wasn't the intense sense of satisfaction that swept over me. Taken aback, I glanced over at Rhonda, but she had managed to dispatch her opponent, too. Menolly was up on the dais, where she ripped Venus's manacles out of the rock wall. He slumped into her arms, and she carefully laid him down on the rock platform.
"He'll live," she said grimly. "He's been trained to handle pain, but he's going to have some pretty nasty scars." There was a catch in her voice, and I suspected that she was reliving her own bout with torture. Some scars fade. Others never disappear, even if you can't see them. Menolly's—both her physical and emotional ones—were eternal.
Rhonda raced over to his side. "I'm a certified nurse's assistant. Let me have a look."
"Where did Camille and Morio go?" Menolly asked, looking around.
"I'm right here," Morio answered, now visible as he stepped out from one of two exits leading off to the left. "Camille and I split up to find out what was down these two passageways. There's a bunch of spiderwebs and egg sacs down this hallway. I think we should torch them," he added.
"So you just left us here with those maniacs?" I looked around, searching for any sign of Camille. I could smell her perfume, so she wasn't that far away.
"We figured you could take care of those goons by yourselves." He caught my gaze. "Delilah, where's Camille? Isn't she back yet?"
I shook my head. "No, and I'm starting to get worried." The sounds of fighting echoed from the main passageway. Apparently the boys had managed to start a full-scale skirmish. Among the shouts, one of the voices sounded like it belonged to Chase, and I prayed he was safe.
"Something's happened to her, I know it," Morio said.
"What about Venus?" Rhonda asked, frantic.
"We'll get him on the way back," Morio said. "Until then…" He leaned over the unconscious shaman and said a few words, then blew on his face. In another moment, it looked like Venus was a pile of rocks. "That illusion should hold till we get back." He ducked into the tunnel down which Camille had disappeared. With a glance back at the main hallway, the rest of us followed.
This tunnel was narrow and cramped, tall enough for Menolly to walk through unhampered, but I had to hunch down to make it without scraping the top of my head on the ceiling. We followed Morio and the faint scent of Camille's perfume, which was growing stronger, until the passage opened out into another chamber, this one half the size of the main room. Halfway across the room, the cave ended in a drop-off.
I peeked over the edge. Stone steps led down the cliff, cut into the side wall. Even with my heightened sight, I could barely see the bottom. There appeared to be an underground pond or river or creek down there.
I turned to Menolly. "Can you hear the sound of running water?"
She closed her eyes, and we kept as still as we could. After a moment, she nodded. "Sounds like a loud creek. I don't think it's big enough to be a river."
I sniffed the air. Yep, Camille had been here, but where was she now?
"Let's try down there," I started to say when a crash interrupted me. As we whirled around, three figures stood at the entryway. One of them was Geph von Spynne. The other was a Svartan, and he had his arm wrapped around Camille's waist, holding her so tight it looked like she was having trouble breathing. I'd thought Trillian looked dangerous, but this Svartan had a glint in his eye that made my blood run cold. Lianel.
Geph darted forward. "I know you," he said, waggling his finger at me. "I know you from somewhere!"
I raised my knife, but Lianel shook his head. "I wouldn't do that, not if you want to save your sister." He pressed his nose into her neck, and she struggled, but he tightened his grip, and she froze. "Oh, she's ripe, she's so ripe. I wish we were back in the temple at Svartalfheim. We'd have a high old time there, we would, my brothers and I." The longing in his voice oozed like the scent of a rose long decayed. Rotten through to the core.
Unsure what to do, I looked at Menolly for guidance.
She was fuming, so tense I could see the muscles in her neck tighten. "What do you want?"
