The Mesmerist(29)

Gabriel looks up. “Stalactites,” he says. “The ones below are stalagmites.”

I look up at the long, gleaming daggers and shudder. I pray that one does not fall.

Balthazar leads the way down the passage. There is no sound at all beyond the echo of our footsteps and the drip of water falling from above. There are places on the rock wall that look like ice, slick and shiny. The path veers to the left, and we walk a few more minutes in silence. Just as the quiet is beginning to unsettle me, Balthazar speaks. “Necromancers embrace the dark, for in the night they find their power. They know what humans fear, and use it against them.”

I shudder. Now he tells us this?

A howl echoes through the cave.

It is not a human voice. It sounds almost like an animal in distress. But before I can ask what it is, the answer is revealed.

Ahead of us, a figure in shredded black garments seems to appear out of thin air. The face is elongated, and the mouth, a black hole of nothing, hangs open in a silent scream.

“A ghoul,” Gabriel hisses.

“Your tools,” Balthazar whispers. “Open the satchel, Jessamine.”

Every instinct I have is telling me to run. There is a monster in front of us. But then I hear Mother’s voice in my head: Within you lies strength yet to be discovered. Like your father . . . and your mother. Never forget that, Jess.

I reach across my chest to open the satchel, and right at that moment, the creature comes screaming toward us.

I set my stance as Balthazar taught me to, but I trip on one of the stalagmites and fall back. I immediately rise, and the beast is on us in seconds. Balthazar reaches into his waistcoat and whips out two gleaming daggers. A cold blue light ripples along the edge of each blade. He slashes furiously, but the thing moves with lightning speed, bouncing from wall to wall, as if made of something besides human flesh.

A sound like shattering glass rings throughout the cave. My ears feel as if they will burst. What is it? I turn my head quickly to see Gabriel, his mouth open wide. It is coming from him. Is he singing?

“The lash!” Balthazar cries. With trembling hands, I quickly open the flap to my satchel and withdraw the whip from its case. The monster reaches for Balthazar’s throat, but he steps aside and slashes at its face. The stench is unbearable. Two rows of sharp teeth jut from its lower lip.

“Strike!” Balthazar commands me. “Strike now, Jessamine!”

I grasp the braided handle and, without thinking, lash out, just as Mother did. The weighted tails coil around the creature’s neck and then curl tight, like a snake squeezing its prey, as if it has a mind of its own.

The ghoul grasps at its neck, trying to loosen the whip, but then claps its hands against its ears, as if the sound of Gabriel’s singing is more painful. All the while, Gabriel’s voice is rising in pitch, an aria full of despair. Cracks appear in the walls. Light dances on Emily’s fingertips. She rushes forward and rakes the monster’s back with her fingernails. “No!” I shout. “Emily!”

She quickly darts away to stand by my side, breathing hard. Her small handprint begins to glow white-hot on the ghoul’s back. The monster screams and twists its arms, trying to reach the spot that now blazes a fearsome red. Balthazar lunges in with his blade, slashing at the demon’s heart. Though I wonder if it even has one. A note rings in the air—?clear and strong. I turn to see Gabriel, golden harp in hand, plucking the strings. His face is set in fierce determination, his eyes as dark as ever.

“Stop!” the demon howls. “You filth! It burns!”

And then it collapses to the floor of the cave, rolling around in pain. The smell of burning hair and something much worse fills the air.

It opens its mouth, a deep chasm of shadow, and a low sound comes from its throat. After a moment, dread creeps down my spine, for it is speaking. “My master,” it says, “has something for you. All of you. You will die suffering.”

And then it shakes its terrible head and howls again. “Ring around the rosy, a pocketful of posies. Ashes! Ashes! We all fall down!”

How can this thing know that?

“You pitiful beast,” Balthazar hisses. “Jessamine. Release this foul spirit.”

I look to Balthazar. What does he mean?

“The compass!” Emily shouts. “Use the compass, Jess!”

“Draw back your lash first, Jessamine,” Balthazar tells me in a much quieter tone.

Fearful, even with Balthazar’s instruction, I release the whip. The tails loosen and seem to slither away. I kneel to set it on the ground, then take the silver compass from the case.

“Where?” I ask, standing up.

Balthazar points to a space just below the thing’s monstrous feet. “Here,” he says. “It is the Circle of Confinement, from which no evil can escape.”

I kneel back down and pull the two points of the compass apart. Gabriel is still playing his harp, the notes like darts of pain in the beast’s body, for it can now barely move and lies on the floor breathing hard. Its eyes are a sick, vibrant yellow. Emily stands next to me, her light pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

I put one point of the compass into the rocky earth and slowly turn it in a circle. I gasp. My hands are bathed in a golden glow. Sparks fly up from the ground.

“Now do the same above,” Balthazar instructs me. “A creature must be bound at the north and south points. Only then can it be destroyed.”