21

“Took you long enough.”

Gregor nodded. “When you crashed into the table, one of the chairs caught me on the way down. I had to extricate myself.”

“Well, better late than never, I suppose.” Annja cradled her left hand and examined it. It was very tender.

“You’re injured?” Gregor asked.

Annja frowned. “I was a few minutes ago. But now, it doesn’t seem to hurt that much.”

Gregor took her hand and ran his fingers over it, gently probing the skin. “Does this hurt?”

“No.”

He nodded. “Nothing is broken. Perhaps you only strained it when you punched the beast in its head.”

Annja glanced at the unmoving body. “Parts of it are made out of metal.”

“Not exactly a recipe for the supernatural, I suppose,” Gregor said.

“No. But it does raise some other questions. Like who the hell made this thing?”

Gregor knelt next to the corpse. “You think it was made?”

Annja pointed. “Look at the claws. They’ve been discolored to look blackened but they’re metal, as well. It could have sliced me open if I hadn’t been careful.” Annja took a breath and winced. Her ribs still hurt like hell.

Gregor lifted Khosadam’s claw. “Looks like folded steel. Extremely tough and very sharp.”

Annja fingered her jacket. “Sliced right through my parka here. An inch more and it would have been my intestines draped all over the place.”

“You were extremely skilled in the fight,” Gregor said. “I was very impressed with your fighting ability.”

“I’ll bet,” Annja said, waiting for the inevitable.

Gregor stood. “And that sword. Where did that come from?”

Annja shrugged. “I don’t know.” She was suddenly exhausted and didn’t have the energy to try to explain the unexplainable.

“You don’t know?” Gregor said.

“It’s something that started showing up a while back. I don’t know where it is or how it gets here. It does seem to pop out at moments when I need it most.” Annja watched Gregor’s face for signs he thought she might be insane. But she didn’t see any.

“Well, it certainly happened to be here at the right time. Lucky for both of us, eh?”

“Yes.” Annja took another breath and winced.

“Your ribs.” Gregor nodded. “I thought I heard something crack.”

“You’ve got good ears.”

He shrugged. “I saw the beast land on top of you a number of times. It was a lot of weight to support.”

Annja kept one hand over her side and smiled. “Souvenir for me, I guess. A reminder over the next few weeks when I’m unable to sleep that I left my ribs in Siberia.”

Gregor pointed at Khosadam. “What do we do with this now? Take it with us to show the villagers?”

Annja shook her head. “I don’t know how you’re feeling, but I’m beat. Plus that thing weighs a lot, as you said, and the thought of carrying it miles through the deep snow doesn’t exactly send warm fuzzies down my spine.”

“So we leave it here, then.”

“I guess so.”

“And how do we get out of here?”

Annja pointed at the secret door. “Through there. May as well see where the steps at the far end of the tunnel lead. Who knows, if we’re really lucky, maybe we’ll find another Khosadam to play with.”

Gregor frowned. “Sometimes I do not understand the American sense of humor.”

“That makes two of us,” Annja said. “Shall we go?”

Gregor limped toward the shelves. “You’re sure it’s dead, right?”

Annja stopped and knelt by the creature. She felt along its neck and then down by its wrist. After a few moments of searching, she looked back up at Gregor. “No pulse that I can find.”

“And we’re done with the whole supernatural story, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Annja stated.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Annja rose and walked through the secret doorway into the tunnel. Ahead of them, they could still see the open side door that must have connected the tunnel leading from the cavern.

“Never hurts to have a couple of egress points,” Gregor said.

“It almost caught us unawares, though,” Annja said.

“I could have done without being surprised like that.”

Gregor pointed to the far end of the tunnel. “Stairs.”

“Shall we see where they go?”

Gregor nodded and they moved slowly to where the wooden stairs jutted out of the hard earth and led upward. Gregor paused at their base and looked at Annja. “We don’t know where these go.”

“That’s what we’re here to find out.”

“What I mean is, we shouldn’t just go rushing right up them. They could be booby-trapped.”

Annja cocked an eyebrow. She wasn’t keen on wasting time looking for traps. But on the other hand, Gregor did have a point. And surprise had plagued them on this trip already. No sense repeating the same mistakes.

“All right. But you’ll have to take point. I have no idea what I’m looking for when it comes to that stuff.”

Gregor held out his hand. “I’ll need my flashlight again.”

“Be careful, I think the batteries are starting to run down.”

“You wasted all the power?” Gregor asked.

“Someone had to find you in the dark, buddy. You’re lucky I even bothered at all,” Annja replied.

Gregor took the flashlight and switched it on. Then he knelt down by the lowest tread and peered up under it. “This one looks clear.”

“You have to do this for every one of them?”

“Yes.”

Annja sighed. Staying down in the dark with the body of Khosadam didn’t make her feel comfortable at all. She had no idea exactly what it was they were dealing with. She’d seen enough bad horror flicks to know that creatures usually came back to life, even when they were supposed to be very dead.

“Clear,” Gregor said as he moved higher up the staircase.

Annja watched him work. He dragged his right leg on to each stair as the other braced most of his weight. The beast had hurt him fairly badly.

She glanced back down the tunnel. The dim light seemed to have waned since the battle with the creature. Darkness bled into the tunnel they were in, blotting out features and anything Annja could use as a reference point.

“It’s getting darker,” she said without even thinking.

“What?”

She turned. Gregor had paused in his work and was now looking at her intently. “What did you say?”

“It seems like it’s getting darker.”

Gregor looked away from the stairs, paused, and then frowned. “Looks the same to me.” He turned back to the stairs and flashed the light under another tread.

Annja stared down the tunnel. She could almost picture the body of Khosadam starting to twitch back in the root cellar. She could imagine it stirring as the evil that had lived in it came back to life, making the beast shudder and sit upright. Then it would give a gasp, get to its feet and start for the door.

Annja closed her eyes. The sword hovered in front of her.

She took a deep breath. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Gregor asked, alarmed.

“I need to see something.”

“Annja—”

But she was already moving back down the tunnel toward the root cellar. As she did, the darkness around her grew deeper. Annja’s heartbeat hammered again. I won’t be able to use the sword until I get back into the cellar, she thought. I’ll have to be quick about it.

Her footsteps sounded quiet on the dirt floor, but Annja was sure anyone would be able to hear her heart thundering.

Is this thing really supernatural, after all? she wondered. Is it truly some dethroned goddess out to feast on the living? And if it is, how will I ever kill it once and for all?

Ahead of her, she could make out the dim outline of the secret door. As soon as I’m through the door, I’ll close my eyes, draw the sword and start swinging.

She knew she would have to clear the shelves first and make sure she had a good bead on Khosadam’s head. Decapitating it just might be the most effective way to destroy it once and for all.

Unless it was already alive and waiting for her to return.

Annja stopped. Around her, the darkness felt almost palpable. She half expected to be able to reach out and grab a handful of it.

What the hell is the matter with me? Why do I keep getting sidetracked? she wondered. She looked at Gregor hard at work, halfway up the stairs now.

Was there something else at work here? Or was it just her own imagination conjuring up this stuff?

I’m my own worst enemy, she decided. The stress of losing Bob combined with the superstitious folklore of this area has really got me twisted up inside. She shook her head and looked at the doorway ahead of her. All she had to do was push through it, draw the sword and finish Khosadam once and for all.

Ten feet from the door, Annja slowed her breathing, willing herself to move as quietly as possible. She took deep breaths, flushing her system with oxygen, knowing that in combat her muscles would eat through the fresh air faster than when they were resting.

She was six feet from the door. Was that a noise on the other side? Was it Khosadam rising up again? Annja closed her eyes. The sword was there, ready to draw. She felt her hand reaching out to push the door open so she could fit through the portal.

She heard another noise on the other side of the door. It’s true, she thought. Khosadam is still alive. I failed to kill it the first time. I won’t make that mistake again.

Her hand made contact with the wooden door. She took a deep breath and shoved the door open.

With a cry, Annja leaped through the opening, closing her eyes in midair. The sword hovered in front of her and she wrapped her hands around its hilt. As she came down and touched the floor of the cellar, Annja opened her eyes.

The sword was nowhere to be seen.

Annja looked around.

Khosadam’s body still lay on the floor.

Annja slumped over. Hot tears flowed from her eyes, staining her face as they rolled down only to fall and be swallowed by the dry dirt on the floor of the cellar.

Annja looked up at the corpse. There’s been too much death here, she decided. Too much heartache.

I need to go home.