her amulet which still glowed dully. She was powerless until it cleared again.
It was then that the third of the Green Coven Witches came forward. "Agony!" she screamed, her focus on the man who had attacked her Sister.
Madness reigned after this it seemed to Zack. But despite the chaos, only one thing was important to him. Protect Leonie.
Even in these moments of pandemonium he was dimly aware than somehow everything had shifted and his allegiances had become confused. He should have been standing with the other men. This is what he would have expected. But his heart believed otherwise.
If Ellie never saw yellow again it would be too soon.
Her eyes actually hurt looking at it all. Bizarre yellow drapes that didn't actually seem to cover anything, bookshelves full of yellow leather bound books, everything bright and gaudy. There were also a pair of cupid statues against one wall that looked to be made of some kind of bronze metal. Well, yellowish bronze anyway.
Grace and Helen appeared to pay no interest in the decor at all. They had other matters to consider. Such as where was the next trap likely to spring from.
It didn't take very long to find out.
Even as they took tentative steps towards another door on the other side of the room, there was an audible click as if something had been triggered and Ellie knew it could only be bad news. When she saw the two cupids begin to swivel on their axis, small bows pointing in their direction, she knew how right she was.
Helen had seen them too and took immediate action. "Liquefy," she called out and the cupids started to melt, their arrows drooping pathetically even as they were released. They flew only a short distance, dissolving in mid air to tumble to the ground in a molten puddle.
The two statues themselves now resembled some kind of grotesque sculptures, a disfigured hulk of molten liquid.
"Easy enough," voiced Ellie optimistically.
Helen glowered at her. "Perhaps you will find the next room more challenging if you go in alone."
The girl just looked at her and couldn't help thinking 'bitch!'. What was it with these women? Why all the attitude?
Even so, Grace was the one who continued to take the lead and went to the next door. Ellie came up behind her to see yet another garish room revealed beyond. This one all in purple.
Apart from the colour scheme, this room was somewhat different as it had no furnishings whatsoever. The others had been dressed with sedan chairs and stylish tables, lamps and the occasional figurine, all colour coded of course. This room however was entirely bare. Just an expansive purple tiled floor.
The three women eyed it sceptically.
"After you," Ellie suggested in a weak attempt at humour.
Grace said nothing and stepped out into the room. Once more there was a door at the far end. She began to walk towards it, Helen and Ellie fanning out on either side of her.
The feeling of vulnerability that came over Ellie was hard to resist as they got half way across. She knew how exposed they were and she also recognised that was the intention of whoever had designed this place. Her eyes darted around trying to predict where the next attack would come from.
Grace's steps were slow but deliberate. She moved with purpose, but she was tense and preparing herself for whatever might lay in wait. Another step. Her foot touched a tile, just another identical to the rest. But this one moved very slightly underfoot. The woman came to a standstill, matched by her companions.
On every side, there was the sound of a mechanism coming to life. Ellie twisted around and witnessed the tiles in front of the door they had entered by abruptly punctured by six inches spikes, each springing from somewhere under the flooring with enormous force. She continued to stare as more tiles followed suit, almost in a domino effect, the noise of the deadly needles rising out of the ground very loud. She turned around again to see the same thing occurring in front of them.
Helen and Grace stepped in closer beside her, but there was no fear or panic on either face.
"Levitate," Helen said with assurance and all three of them began to rise, only a few inches at first, but steadily moving upward. Ellie almost began to wave her arms for balance, but managed to maintain a dignified sense of poise, allowing herself to be manoeuvred into the air. Below, the tiles where they had been standing were viciously perforated with deadly spikes and the girl gazed down from her place, perhaps ten feet above, with a tremendous sense of relief.
Now what, she wondered as the three of them hovered there.
All at once every spike retracted. The floor was as it was before.
Ellie felt herself gradually descending, until her feet touched the ground again. Although she stood there, grateful to be safe and unharmed, she almost wanted to hop on one foot, as if the floor itself was hot. Who knew if those damn needles could suddenly pop up again.
"Come." It was Helen, already moving towards the door, eager herself to be out of the room.
Without hesitation she took firm hold of the circular doorknob and turned it.
The woman cried out, wrenching her hand away and Ellie gave a startled blink as she saw a four inch needle protruding from the centre of the handle.
Immediately Grace was beside the other witch, who clutched her palm in obvious distress. Helen's skin was already becoming yellowish and her eyes were watering.
"What is it!?" Grace asked with urgency.
The other woman staggered and leaned against a wall for support. "Poison." She was barely audible.
Grace took a step back and focused her attention on the stricken witch. "Antidote," she uttered and her amulet began to respond, imbued with her essence.
Ellie looked on, expecting to see a reaction from Helen. There was none. If anything she was worsening and she allowed herself to slump down onto the floor, resting against the wall for support. "What's wrong?" she questioned, turning to Grace.
The witches expression was bleak. "Whatever this is, it is beyond my ability."
Helen eyes flickered, gazing up at them. And in her gaze Ellie saw the steady, undeniable approach of death.
30
Someone doesn't want us to get out of this house in one piece, that's for sure. But they obviously didn't count of three witch burglars turning up! I almost feel sorry for any garden variety thieves that might have picked this place out. I doubt very much they would have got beyond room one, let alone made it to where the valuables must be hidden away. But that's not exactly my concern is it? For now, I need to focus on how to keep myself alive.
It was if he had been hit by a massive burst of electricity. The man flung his arms out, his entire body becoming rigid and his mouth gaped open in a silent, endless scream.
Zack looked on, appalled, as the effects of the witch's Word took hold of Samuel and assaulted him with terrible pain.
But his attention was quickly diverted to the other men, who now came charging at the two remaining women, their torches brandished as weapons. Without even thinking about what he was doing, the boy launched himself forward, hurling himself at the thickset man who had approached closest to Leonie. Zack was vaguely conscious of Jeremiah moving somewhere to his left, also running.
But before he could reach the man, Leonie cried out a single word, her voice clear even above the tumult. "Stop!"
Her would-be attacker came to a standstill, his torch still held outstretched. The girl's eyes glinted with alarm in the firelight. But already the others were upon the second witch and had pushed her to the ground, one of them kicking her viciously in the side, making her grunt and pull herself in a foetal position. "Don't let her speak!" cried out a harsh voice. There were several more blows from boots and fists and the woman lay still and silent.
Now Jeremiah was amongst them, shoving at one, facing down another. Four men confronted him, all matching him in height and build. Zack held Leonie's gaze for just the briefest of moments and then turned and moved to stand beside Jeremiah. "That's enough," the man bellowed. "This has gone too far!"
; "Keep out of this!" barked a balding man, his muscular arms tensed in anticipation of combat.
"I will not!" fired back Jeremiah, "this is madness!"
"The time for talk is over," agued another of the men. "Either stand with us, Jeremiah, or stand against us, it's your choice!"
But Jeremiah did not get an opportunity to answer. There was a movement of wind about them, every torch sputtering. And then a voice spoke, calm and self-assured. "Husband?"
All heads turned, including Zack and Jeremiah's.
Abigail stood perhaps fifteen feet distant, her white cloak radiant in the dim light.
Now there was a different tension among the group of men, fear mingling with anger. "We've already killed one of you, choose your words carefully," called out one of their number menacingly.
But the witch only had eyes for Jeremiah. "Husband?" she repeated, one eyebrow raised quizzically.
Jeremiah regarded her in the flickering torch light. "I am here," he stated simply.
"That I can see," the witch said mildly, "but why?"
The man hesitated before answering, casting a quick glance at Zack, but if there was meaning in the look it was lost on the boy. "Can't you see that this has been coming for a long time," he told her, his gaze unwavering, his tone imploring. "Things need to change, that's all we're asking for."
Abigail gave just the slightest of nods and her eyes strayed to where Leonie stood off to one side, now a spectator. The girl watched silently, her expression pained and anxious.