Eternal Moon

Chapter 31: Roots to Hell

Emma opened her eyes groggily, groaning at the pounding in her temples.

Blinking awake, she tried to focus against the fogginess that seemed to weigh her down. Her limbs were heavy, her stomach empty, and her head felt as if someone had taken a jackhammer to it. Every muscle and joint felt aching and fatigue like she had never known engulfed her.

But she couldn't move.

As her eyes took in the soft light around her, she tried to get up and only found resistance. Her arms and legs were tied down with rope, spread wide. As her back bowed, she realized she was lying on something hard, cold, like stone.

Panic set in and she started to thrash against the hard surface, kicking to the best of her ability.

She tried to scream but something was in her mouth between her teeth. Her tongue darted out and tasted wood.

Moaning and gurgling, she fought against the ropes that held her down even though it was no use. The knots were hard and tight, too strong for her to undo. She might as well have had weights on top of her.

Eyes darting around for something to help, she whimpered when she took in her surroundings. The sun had set but very recently and the night was alive with the sounds of animals and earth. All around here stood huge slabs of stone jutting up into the sky, maybe five or six, while torches of firelight gleamed in front of her.

What the fuck...

Suddenly, the woman who had kidnapped her was towering over her. She stood close enough that Emma could see her hair graying rapidly, her skin more wrinkled and leathery. And her eyes... They sparkled with feral excitement.

Emma watched raptly as the woman lay down a huge butcher knife right next to her.

Against the wood in her mouth, Emma screamed.

The excitement on the old woman's face grew as her lips slanted up into a smile. "Shall we begin?"

The screams continued to bubble up in Emma's throat as she gave one last effort to escape. But the old woman laughed, pulling at one of the knots.

"It's no use, girl." The woman's gaze lifted up to the Irishman who stood stoically across from them. Emma followed her eyes and tried to plead with the man but he kept his own downcast. "I've trained my dog well."

Everything in Emma revolted. She bucked, kicked, thrashed, and screamed as hard as she could, banging her limbs against the cold stone. Survive, a voice deep inside of her seemed to chant. Survive. Survive. Survive.

But neither the old woman nor the Irishman paid heed. The Irishman stood forlornly, unable to meet her gaze, as the woman began to speak in a strange language Emma had never heard before. It was harsh and foreign, full of "s" sounds that seemed to slither out of the woman's mouth like snakes. As she spoke, Emma could feel the air around them change.

Above them, the sky toiled. Angry clouds formed as a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. The breeze picked up, lifting the hem of Emma's white gown, making her even colder than she was. Her chest heaved with desperate breaths as the woman's chanting became louder and more punctuated, wilder. With each syllable, the air and sky seemed to foment.

Then came the long, eerie howl of a wolf...____________________________________________________________________________

Sorcha froze when she heard the familiar cry.

Quickly looking towards Colin, she stopped the incantation and picked up the knife instead. Time had officially run out.

Every hair on her rapidly aging body stood on end, electric with the energy of the earth she had cultivated. The gods were awake, eager to accept her sacrifice. But first, she needed to kill the girl.