They will all be killed! Their blood will paint the walls, and I will have to live with my conscience. Can I do this?
I heard the anxious thought loudly and felt grief engulf the words. The emotion wrapped me in apprehension, and I glanced around, wondering where it had come from. All I saw were people minding their own business in various modes of interaction. There were some people walking swiftly with purpose, others ambling and still others standing, looking over merchandise or just chitchatting while children played together. No one looked suspicious. Cynthia seemed unaware of it, chattering away about the clothing we’d bought and the fact that I would have something absolutely unique to wear back home. Well...if she hadn’t heard it...
“I will pay you back. I’m getting paid in a week,” I said with a forced grin, though I was feeling just a smidge discomfited.
“You’ve paid me back in spades,” Cynthia stated simply. “Let me do this.”
“No, I’m not going to...”
I can’t let him do this! But I have to. It’s the only way.
The pain-filled words were accompanied by a feeling of growing horror, which wrapped around me with interwoven strands. It invaded my personal space and braided through the sinews of my thoughts, pricking me with painful thorns. I winced from the mental anguish.
My head whipped around. I knew it was coming from someone here. Now.
“What is it?” Cynthia sounded concerned.
“You didn’t hear that?”
“What?”
“Somebody...”
I tried to open my mind and focus on just the one grief-stricken thread I was looking for. It had fallen silent, but another thread, a darker, destructive, violent thread, became a force that squeezed my lungs. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I gasped with the need to take in air. Someone was going to do indescribable harm.
“You’re scaring me! Don’t just stand there! Talk!” Cynthia shook me sharply. My head snapped hard, making me come back to the present.
“Violence. Death.”
“When?”
“Immediate.”
The virulent intent grew. Vicious anger enveloped me until I felt I was swimming in it. A chaotic mind ached with feelings of grief for loved ones lost and was looking for revenge.
“How?” She grabbed a device calmly, but swiftly, from her shoulder bag.
“I don’t know.” Panic edged my voice, making it sound shrill.
“Take a deep breath and concentrate. You have amazing power, Tay. Work it. Focus it!” Her voice turned hard and slapped at me. Her fingers flew over a device she’d palmed, and I reached for calm.
I looked more closely at those moving around the market. Was there someone acting suspiciously? Being furtive? But with so many people moving around, that wasn’t going to do me any good. I stepped out into the busy aisle, hoping to get a hot or cold feel for where the energy was coming from. I needed to focus on the energy signature; the concept Cynthia had introduced me to now made sense.
I filtered out the surrounding white noise and unfocused my eyes so they weren’t caught by perpetual movement or colors. I dimmed the roar of thoughts and feelings that were coming to me from all directions and just probed mentally where the dark, roiling venom was coming from. I caught it. I felt the strength of it growing. It tugged at me.
The moment was surreal. I was experiencing space separate from time as I moved through the layers of people with Cynthia following me, looking around anxiously.
“There it is,” I whispered to myself as I felt the pull of dark energy. It was near the transfer center.
“Do you have a lock on it?” Cynthia asked tersely.
“Somewhere near where we came in,” I murmured, and my eyes quickly scanned the individuals.
“Yes,” she breathed, as though now having a sense of it.
On the face of it, the scene was commonplace to any public setting. People arrived and departed sporadically, individually and in groups, suddenly appearing or evaporating within the vibrant blue light. The only people who stood out were a pair of women walking together, one of them holding a catlike critter in her arms. A frown marred her features as she looked over her shoulder.
Inexcusably rude was the comment that jumped out at me. Almost knocking me over without a word of apology. I focused on whom they were referring to and zeroed in on a pair—someone fairly tall and someone of more average height. They had cloaks on, hoods resting over their faces, obscuring them. That in itself seemed strange, as not a single other person was covering their head. We were indoors. It wasn’t the least bit cold.
They were absorbed in a task within a large canvas bag that was hanging from the shorter person’s shoulder. It wasn’t an unusual bag. Cynthia had one on her own shoulder, sort of a large canvas tote. A shallow glance would give the impression they were rummaging for something. Other than that, they blended in with the cavern wall, remaining out of the way.
This will become their tombs.
The original pain-filled thread presented itself again with a tone of acceptance. Finality.
Armed. Ready to go.
It came directly from one of the hooded pair.
A door in my mind whispered open, briefly showing me another plane of acute and infinite knowing, and my senses had a moment of saturation. Within a fraction of a second, the details fast-forwarded through my brain with stinging pain, like a wind whipping sand against my flesh at a hundred miles per hour. I was seeing more than I could make sense of. And I was filled with power.
“A bomb!” I gasped painfully, finally seeing the entire plan in mind. “We’re all going to die!”
The surge of information ended with one more piece. I saw my purpose. A chilling, calming shroud fell over me. I had never been more important in my own life than right at this moment, right here. Now or never...
I ran at the pair, screaming a battle cry. Distantly, I heard Cynthia’s horrified shout. With no real weapons, I paused a dozen paces from where they were and threw my heavy platform shoes at them. The pair broke apart, startled. A foreign-sounding expletive shot from the taller one.
The smaller of the two suddenly became engulfed in vibrant blue light and disappeared with the bag. The larger of the pair tilted his head back and roared out his displeasure at being left behind. This dislodged his hood, which caused immediate pandemonium.
“Brausa!” Someone shouted, horrified.
Screams sounded.
People ran wildly.
Hysteria reigned, echoing chaotically throughout the cavern.
Vibrant light flashed sporadically around me as most escaped through transferring, but I could only stare at the giant before me, frozen with fear.
Massive, enraged, muscles heaving, the man was well over six feet tall and wearing leather breeches and a tunic of a heavy cloth. His brown hair was long, dirty and matted into locks that fell down his back. He was an animal!
His feelings of wrath and betrayal intertwined and swamped me. I tried to backpedal, realizing I hadn’t thought this part through very carefully, but I couldn’t make my feet work properly. I couldn’t even turn to run. It was like they were rooted to the ground.
“You think to stop me?” he roared, rushing me. “I will own you!” I had no time to think. His putrid breath reached me before his arms encircled me in a punishing grip that nearly cut off my circulation. A sharply pointed, metallic edge suddenly dug into my side. I gasped with the pain. “Take me from here! Now!”