Page 21 of Shift of Destiny
9
Moira woke to pain so intense, it blinded her. The hard, sharp surface under her seeped cold into her bones. It took a long minute to determine she wasn’t actually blind; she was in a cave with no light. Last she remembered, she’d been in the back cargo area of a Jeep, going up an off-road mountain trail.
The cave smelled dank and musty, like the air didn’t circulate well where she was. Thankfully, it didn’t smell of critters that made dens in caves. It was warmer than she’d have thought, until she remembered the Wyoming mountains were riddled with hot springs.
She started to sit up, but the agony of her head and neck convinced her to wait a bit. She didn’t know whether to blame the tranquilizers, the punch to the face, or the multiple times that Richie had “accidentally” thumped her head against car doors when transferring her in and out of the van and the big-wheeled Jeep.
She curled onto her side and massaged her drum-tight neck as she listened, but heard nothing but her own breathing. She was alone, at least in her part of the cave.Whyshe was alone was something to ponder.
Her arm and thigh were sore from the darts. Even her butt cheek hurt. She slid her arm over her hip and felt with her fingertips. The rectangular shape in her back pocket puzzled her, until she remembered the little brass mirror she’d found in the store’s backyard. That must have been the crunch she heard when she’d fought with Richie on the loading dock. Gingerly, she pushed a finger into her pocket and confirmed her fear that the mirror had broken. She likely had shards of it in her ass. Just wonderful.
During the drive, she’d drifted in and out of consciousness as the men had shoved her into the Jeep like a sack of laundry. One of the men stayed with the van in town, and Richie and the third man drove the Jeep up the mountain.
She remembered disjointed bits of conversation that suggested the ski-mask-wearing men were brothers, and they planned to trade her to Witzer for seats on the board of directors. She’d researched Witzer and knew he had dozens of companies and unethical deals, and seemed to prefer the shadows to the spotlight.
One of the brothers had ordered Richie to cut the zip ties off her wrists and ankles, which would have been hard to explain if they got pulled over. They’d repeatedly mentioned “Dad,” making her suspect they were Witzer’s twin sons, Adam and Zed. She vaguely remembered seeing pictures of them, drunk and falling out of a limousine, on the front page of some checkout-stand scandal rag. She fervently hoped they were as incompetent as they looked.
Darkness didn’t scare her, and neither did the twins, but Richie did. He was inhumanly strong—he’d lifted and carried her five-foot-eight frame like she weighed no more than a sweater—and he thrived on violence and pain. Besides, he smelled really bad, like a dog that had rolled in something three-days dead.
She hoped to every deity in existence that Chance and Shepherd had called the sheriff and were coming after her. She missed her backpack, especially her useful tools and her cellphone, but maybe it would convince Chance that she hadn’t left by choice.
She guessed she’d only been sleeping for a couple of hours. Her sharp pains were too fresh, and her muscles weren’t sore yet from overexertion. She rolled onto her back and reached out with her arms. More uneven, cold rock underneath her. To her left, her fingertips brushed a vertical surface of rock. Ignoring the eye-watering pain of her head, she felt around with both hands and feet. They’d apparently stashed her for safekeeping next to the wall in a small cul-de-sac of the cave. She didn’t feel very safe.
The stabbing sensation in her butt motivated her to gently fish out the broken pieces of mirror in her back pocket and put them aside so she wouldn’t roll on them again. Finally, she slid the frame itself out. From what her fingers told her, only one curved corner remained. Too bad it didn’t flash like the mirrors in the shop, or she could use it to see how to get the hell out of the cave.
She nearly dropped the frame when the mirror started to glow, low at first, then bright enough to dazzle her dark-adapted eyes. She put it facedown on her chest to shade it. When she looked in the corner of the cave, the smaller shards were softly glowing like a little string of Christmas lights.
Great. She was now completely and totally crazy. Off the deep end. Certifiable.
But if crazy meant she had magic, and a broken mirror could give off enough light to get her out of the cave without falling down some inconvenient shaft, she’d take it. Reality was overrated.
In the real world, she’d be powerless to get away from Richie, and stuck being a pawn in the Witzer family power struggle. In the magical world, she had the means to escape and find her way back to a man she was falling in love with, despite having met him only two days ago. She just hoped they hadn’t shot him.
Which reminded her of overhearing the twins laughing about how their father would soon be busy with Richie’s security team, rounding up all the psychic wackos in Kotoyeesinay. Witzer would hurt anyone who got in the way of his quest to get to her. She had to warn them.
She took a deep breath, tucked her braid down the back of her T-shirt, then started crawling, using her mirror light to show her the way. The passage opened up into a wider, taller portion, meaning she could stand and walk for a while. Her head was feeling marginally better, but her nose was stuffy and ached. Even if her nose wasn’t broken, she’d bet she had one hell of a black eye starting. How sexy.
The larger cave was chilly, and seemed to have ventilation from somewhere. Every few yards, she stopped to listen for any other sounds, but heard nothing. She couldn’t guess why they hadn’t tied her up again or taken her shoes, or at least left a guard, unless they trusted the total darkness to keep her prisoner. As it would have, without her miraculous… no,magicmirror.
When she crouched to examine one of two possible passageways, wondering which one would take her to freedom, her mirror pulsed red. The green pulse when she pointed the mirror toward the other passageway was good enough for her. Just as she was resting and listening, wishing for some kneepads, she thought she saw a glimmer of light at the end of the passage, which spurred her to move faster. The last place she wanted to be caught was in a four-foot-high passage with no place to hide or run.
Once again, the cave opened wide. The light turned out to be a heavy-duty, club-style flashlight. She bet someone had left it to point to the correct passage. She switched it off and shoved it in her back waistband. If nothing else, it would make a good weapon. The front button of her pants gave way and made a metallic pinging sound as it bounced out of view. She sighed, knowing her jeans were history. It was so hard to find a pair that fit. A whiff of herself said she’d probably have to burn her T-shirt.
This part of the cave system was cluttered with gray rocks, and she felt a breeze tickle the hair on the back of her neck. When she finally saw the cave’s entrance, she shut off her mirror light by the simple expedient of shoving the frame in her front pocket. Or she would have, if it hadn’t already been occupied by Chance’s bandanna. It gave her the idea to rig a pocket sling around her neck to hold the mirror high on her chest, so she’d have two hands for climbing. She used the hair tie from the end of her braid to secure it. The mirror blazed brightly when faced outward, and dowsed when faced toward her chest.
The ground beyond the cave entrance sloped down sharply. As much as she needed to get out of the cave and warn Chance and the town, she’d likely break her neck if she went sliding down a steep mountainside in the dark. The high surrounding peaks blocked any help from the moonlight. She flipped the mirror forward long enough to pick a path, then eased over to the left and grabbed onto a branch of a crooked scrub pine. Dirt and pine needles slid out from under her, making her scramble for footing and send a cascade of pebbles downward.
The windy mountain wasn’t as quiet as the cave, but if her captors were anywhere near and heard her creating miniature landslides, they’d catch her for sure. The only thing she could think of was to make her way down from one tree or shrub to the next, using her mirror light just long enough to pick her targets.
She just reached a bulbous granite outcrop when she heard a voice echoing.
“Here’s the second marker.” That was Richie.
“Where are the twidiots?” She didn’t recognize the voice.
Richie laughed. “Twidiots. That’s good. Adam lost his keys, and Zed went back to town to pick him up. I called Pruhon as soon as Zed left, but you don’t have much time to get her out of here before they come back.”
A passing beam of light briefly outlined the ridge of rocks below her.
