Wicked Circle

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Sitting in the utter blackness of the cargo hold, I clenched my hands. I said, “Heart,” as if hearing my own voice would make everything comprehensible. When it didn’t, I whispered, “Cor.”

Core.

Soul.

The sorsanimus.

I couldn’t tap Menessos or Johnny under this confinement, but I knew neither of them would give up if they were in my situation. I would not be the weak side of the triangle.

But how am I supposed to “evolve” when I’m tied up and imprisoned? Evolving sounded like it should be a very active process.

To the darkness, I said, “I asked once for the wisdom to keep my feet upon this path, to be what You had made me, Hecate, and to accomplish the goals You set before me, to be Your instrument, humble and just, and fulfill my purpose. Well, here I am. Show me Your bright torches.”

I waited.

And waited.

“Just a little illumination would be helpful.”

The glowing armor that was the mantle of the Lustrata began to shine around me.

Thank you, Hecate. She had bestowed this upon me when I’d accepted the name, rank and responsibility of being Lustrata. It had glowed around me when she’d given it to me, when Xerxadrea had outed me to her personal coven, and when I’d been in the darkness of the Hall of Tartarus.

Its light was reassuring, and I kicked myself for not thinking of this earlier.

This beautiful silvery armor had gleamed to identify me and light my way, and yet its brilliance had surrounded me on one other occasion, unbidden: when I’d forced the former Rege into a half-transformation. It had been a desperate action for me, but apparently a moment of judgment, as well. To be Your instrument.

Was that my evolution, to be more than a woman who stepped up whenever Chance lay at my feet, an occasion when some action of mine could make a difference? Was I to go from being defensive but proactive, to being offensive and aggressive?

Still bound, I couldn’t attack Liyliy. At least not physically.

That left magic, but I couldn’t tap the ley.

Creepy had said that I needed to know I could do this. This what? Amenemhab had said to combine what I have.

Feeling stupid and helpless and disliking every second of it, I consoled myself with the perks. I was bound to two powerful men. Hecate was on my side. I’d passed tests of fire, water, and air.

Wait. Creepy had also said, “I can feel the storm within you. The burning blaze and the flood, too.”

He’d pointed out that I had the fire and flood and storm within me. Three elements. Three tests. And here I sat on a mound of salt, which represented earth—the one element in which I had not yet earned anything. And yet, iron represented fire. Air was in abundance, and if this was a ship, then there was water nearby.

How could I combine fire, air and water? Fire and water canceled each other out—or fire caused water to transmute and combine with air . . . steam!

What could I do with steam?

I had to get off this salt.

Wriggling and dragging myself across this would take forever. Without my hands free to balance, hopping or crawling was out. I figured rolling would be the best way—and most painful. Gritting my teeth and tensing to restrict some of the movement my shoulder was about to endure, I made the first and second rotations. I had to catch my breath, then I made two more. Following this pattern, I neared the wall quickly.

Guided by the light of my mantle, I sat up and scooted into position by the ladder. I lifted my arms and, using only my left, levered my feet under me. I stood—too fast—and had to grapple for the higher half-moon rungs to keep from keeling over. Holding on, I shook off as much of the salt as I could, then slid my foot into one of the half-moon openings. They were too far apart for my bindings to reach both, so I had to settle for having only one foot bearing me. Like an inchworm moving one end, then the other, I eventually had myself three rungs from the level of the salt.

After securing my balance with my knee, I reached around the support bracket, placed both palms against the iron and focused my will.

Metal, iron, smelted ore

Element of fire in your core

That heat within, I bid it rise

Release it now, these ropes incise!

My thumbs tingled, and I felt a jolt like I had when under my mother’s truck trying to get the tire. What the—?

My thumbs! Mudras! Of course!

In yogic theories, the mudras were various hand gestures and positions that awakened the kundalini, or the corporeal energy. Each finger represented a different element. Thumbs represented fire, and metal represented fire, which explained the charge I got under the truck and here!

Bending my thumbs back to touch the rope as much as I could, I pressed the outermost loop against the edge of the bracket. I smelled smoke. Maintaining my single-mindedness, I rubbed the rope against it and snorted against the stink of burning fibers.

Incredibly, the silvery threads I’d noticed in the rope before were some type of metal—and the metal was part of Liyliy. It liquefied and re-formed as barbed wire, cutting into me as I applied pressure to the rope.

I had to work fast—surely Liyliy knew I was doing something now.

Increasing the pressure of the rope on the heated bracket, the sharp barbs of the wire broke my skin, and the wire heated. As the rope burned, so did I.

Grinding my teeth, groaning through the searing pain, I kept pushing.

The rope severed. I jerked from the bracket, steadying myself with my knee, and flapped my hands so the rope would unwind itself—but the wire did not fall away. In fact, the weight of the rope seemed to push the barbs deeper.

I used my thumbs to touch the bracket and thrust the wire against the edge directly. The wire fought, tightened, and tore my skin before the heat melted it through. I pulled free of it so fast I probably did more and unnecessary damage, but I didn’t want to risk the stuff re-forming.

I leapt down to the salt. I had to get my feet free now; Liyliy was surely connected to this stuff and knew what I was doing.

The knot in the rope around my ankles was in the back, so I couldn’t see it well. Additionally, my thumbs were numb from directing so much of the fire element through them, so I dug at it with my fingers. Messing with it caused the wire in it to grow barbs as well. These seemed to spring up everywhere I reached—until I dug my thumbs under the wire. “Fire!”

The wire melted around my touch and fell into the salt.

I rolled away from it and worked at the rope. Where my thumbs touched, the fibers burned. Knowing what to do now, I touched my thumbs onto the rope—on a spot not in contact with my skin—and burned through.

Kicking free of the coils, I tore off my shoes, climbed to my feet and reached for the ladder.