The Eighth Day (25 page)

“Donovan,” barked John Balin, coming up behind Jax. He motioned with his hand for Tegan to continue up the pyramid, and Jax was gratified to see the climb had left even Wylit's chief vassal breathless.

Tegan ran up the next set of steps, and Jax turned to Evangeline. She stared back at him. What had Tegan been trying to tell them? Could they possibly hope . . . ?

“Keep moving,” Balin growled.

Jax gathered up Evangeline's train, and they ascended the towering staircase. When they reached the fifth terrace, there was still one more level to climb, a rounded hill of large stones sunk into cement leading to a level cobblestone surface on the summit.

Wylit's men must have been busy all day. A table of dark wood and iron filigree had been set up like an altar. It had probably been stolen from the hotel, along with another table to hold the crate with the mummy. The
locals were going to wake up on Thursday to some really puzzling paranormal activity on the pyramid.

Then Jax remembered. There wasn't supposed to be a Thursday.

“My lord.” John Balin offered his arm to Wylit when the sedan chair was set down. “Take care where you step.” The Kin lord swayed as Balin guided him to the altar.
I should take a running start and push him over the edge
, Jax thought. He tightened his muscles and pictured himself throwing an old man off the top of a two-hundred-foot pyramid.

First kill's the hardest
. Miller had texted that to Riley.

But there were four men plus Balin between Jax and Wylit, and the pyramid didn't drop off abruptly anyway. A good push would send the old man tumbling down the hill, where he'd roll a few yards and end up on the fifth level terrace, ticked off but still alive.

One of the men who'd carried Wylit to the summit directed Evangeline to the altar, while another one warned Jax to stay where he was with an outstretched hand.

Wylit surveyed the ruined city below. “Almost two thousand years ago, a mighty civilization vanished from this place,” he said. “A century after that, on the opposite side of the world, another civilization was confined to a prison made of time.” He turned on Evangeline. “Your ancestor betrayed us to our enemies. Why do you think he did it?”

She glared back at him. “The Llyrs and the Arawens were abusing their power, and too much blood had already been spilled trying to stop them.”

“I'm sure there was a great deal of blood spilled in the casting of this spell,” Wylit said, his lip rising in a sneer. The skin of his face crumpled like wet tissue paper. “Sacrifices were made.”

“No, I don't think so.” Evangeline frowned.

“You believe Merlin, Niviane, and Arthur were too virtuous to cut a few throats? You are naïve, child.” There was a mocking tone to Wylit's voice Jax didn't like at all. “And what constitutes a sacrifice? It's not a
sacrifice
if the offering isn't worth something to us, is it?”

Evangeline was looking really worried now, and Jax didn't like the way the conversation was going.
Time to use this spell
. He edged his way around the men to get a good view of Wylit, fighting a reluctance he couldn't explain.
This has to be the moment
, he thought. But for some reason, he seemed to have two left feet. He stumbled and lost his balance. Balin turned and gave him an aggravated look.

“
I've
brought a sacrifice,” Wylit said. “Something lovely and valuable and full of life, given to me by my most trusted vassal.”

Tegan shrieked as two men grabbed her under the arms and carried her forward. Jax was thrust out of the way by an elbow to his temple that sent him staggering backward, his head spinning. “Dad!” Tegan screamed at
the top of her lungs. “Dad, help me!”

Holy crap, they were going to sacrifice Tegan! Jax staggered upright, shaking his head and trying to make his lips form the words of Evangeline's spell. But one of Wylit's men wrapped an arm around his throat and held him tightly.

Tegan fought while her captors tied her hands. Finally one of the men clocked her so hard she fell over on the stony surface of the pyramid and lay still.

“You can't do this!” Evangeline shouted at Wylit. “She's just a girl!”

“She is just a girl,” Wylit agreed. “Not enough of a sacrifice for this ritual. You must give up something, too. Perhaps a boy to go with my girl?”

Jax was dragged forward and forced to his knees beside Tegan. “Sorry, boy,” Balin said from across the summit. Jax heard Evangeline scream at Wylit to let him go, but all he could think as they wound the twine around his wrists was how he'd blown his chance. Evangeline had given him one weapon to use, planted it in his head like an itch he couldn't scratch. It would only take a few words and hand gesture to release it, and now his hands were tied behind his back.

The Balin brothers, meanwhile, had taken hold of Evangeline. “Did you think I didn't know your plans?” Wylit snarled at her. “I see the future. All possible futures, and in every single one, you are a traitor to your race.”
The older Balin wrapped Evangeline's right wrist in twine, binding it to the iron filigree of the table while the younger one held her other hand for the same treatment.

“You're insane!” Evangeline screamed. “You deserve to be imprisoned here.” She started to shout something Jax didn't understand, something in another language, but John Balin stuffed a cloth into her mouth and secured it with a long strip torn from a hotel bed sheet.

“You'll cast the spells I want you to cast and no others,” Wylit warned her. “I know what you planned, and who you planned it with.” He hauled up the skirt of Evangeline's dress, uncovering Riley's dagger sheathed against her leg. “Another Pendragon blade!” he crowed, drawing it out. He laid the dagger on the altar beside Excalibur and turned to Evangeline. “Do you think that's enough to invoke the Pendragon bloodline for this spell? You'd think so, wouldn't you? But there's more on the way.”

A car horn rose above Wylit's voice. Jax turned his head to look over the side of the pyramid.

A black Land Rover with its high beams on careened down the Avenue of the Dead and screeched to a halt. The driver's door flew open, and a man with black hair except for one white patch on the side of his head leaped out.

“I've seen this already in my dreams,” Wylit said, staring at the sky and not bothering to look. “A devastating betrayal by a broken and bitter man—and a gift for me.”

Miller Owens threw open the back door of the car and immediately had to duck. A pair of legs kicked at him viciously. Miller warded off the blows and backed away. Some of Wylit's men on the ground ran to assist, grabbing the occupant of the backseat by his feet and hauling him out so roughly his head hit the bottom of the car and then the road.

Even at this great distance, Jax had no problem seeing it was Riley, bound and gagged and delivered to his enemies by his friend.

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JAX PRAYED
it was a ruse, but when they finally dragged Riley to the top of the pyramid, his hopes faded. Riley was bound with his hands behind his back and a cloth rag in his mouth. He was bleeding from the nose and a cut over one eye.

Miller mounted the summit behind him, looking winded and sweaty in a different concert T-shirt and the same cargo pants. Wylit's men took their hands off the prisoner for just a second, and Riley launched himself at Miller with a growl. They sprawled across the cobblestones, but Miller threw him off and climbed to his feet. “Not such a hot shot without your voice, are you?” Miller snarled, kicking Riley in the gut.

“That's enough, Owens.” John Balin checked the prisoner's bindings to make sure he was secure. Miller's kick had knocked the wind out of Riley, and Balin didn't have any trouble hauling him over beside Jax. “Go keep an eye
out below,” Balin snapped at his brother. He looked nervous to have so many men jammed on the platform.

Angus and several others retreated to the lower level, leaving Balin and one other man, plus Miller, who bowed to Wylit. “My lord,” he said. “I bring you the last of the Pendragons.”

Wylit gripped Evangeline's chin and forced her to look at Riley. “An even more fitting sacrifice than your vassal, don't you think?”

“We can spare the boy, then.” Balin lifted Jax to his feet and pulled him backward. Jax felt dizzied by this sudden reversal. An ally had delivered Riley to be slaughtered, and an enemy was trying to save Jax's life.

Seeing Jax get a reprieve, Tegan tried to stand up. Miller glanced at Jax, then grabbed Tegan by her tied hands and the top of her head and shoved her down beside Riley. “You stay where you are. Sacrificing a pretty girl is traditional.” Tegan shuddered at his touch and sank into a heap. Jax glared at Miller, hating him more than ever.

“We have assembled in this place of desolation,” Wylit shouted, raising his arms to the sky, “to defy the eighth-day prison! Hear the words of Myrddin Wylit and heed my will!” He drew Excalibur across the palm of his hand. “My blood comes from an ancient line of sorcerers.”

Without warning, he slashed Evangeline's left arm. Jax's hands clenched, and Riley jerked in reaction, but Evangeline didn't flinch. She stared at Wylit with fury.

Wylit smeared his hand across her wound, then raised it to the sky. “This is the blood of a direct descendant of the spell caster who wrought this prison. The power of our blood will push the walls of this time outward until it is a prison no more. At our command, the eighth day will swell until it consumes all the time on earth. The eighth day will be the
only
day.”

Evangeline shook her head. Although her mouth was gagged and her wrists were tied, she made a rude gesture with both hands. Jax almost laughed. It wasn't something he would've expected from Evangeline. But Wylit whirled around and swung Excalibur down so quickly, she barely got her fingers out of the way. “Interfere with my spell,” Wylit hissed, “and I'll chop off the bits of you I don't need.”

She wasn't just being defiant, Jax realized. Melinda had told him that intentions and symbols were important in magic, and Evangeline had said something similar in the hotel when she lit a candle in front of a mirror to work her spell. Evangeline's gesture was meant to oppose Wylit's statements. She was working against him in every small way she could.

Wylit held the iron blade aloft. “I also bear the blade of King Arthur Pendragon, named Excalibur, on which he bound this spell almost two thousand years ago.”

Riley's head jerked up. Behind his gag he mumbled something Jax thought was
You gotta be kidding me
. Nearby,
Miller shuffled his feet and scanned the sky.

“Furthermore, I have the body of Niviane of the Lake, who conceived this spell and helped Merlin Emrys and Arthur Pendragon cast it. I invoke the presence of all three villains and take control of their magic with the blood of my vassals and a valuable sacrifice.” Wylit pointed Excalibur at Riley. “The last of his line, a descendant of the king who imprisoned us.” Wylit's lips peeled back to show his rotting teeth. “I will cut out his heart on this altar for the right to win this world.”

Light flashed above them, and a bolt crossed the purple sky. It wasn't lightning. Lightning didn't shoot across the sky and
stay there
. It looked like a crack in a plaster wall.

Or a crack in whatever barrier held Grunsday separate from the rest of time.

John Balin reached into his suit jacket, removed his gun, and fired it straight into the air. “Loyal vassals, your blood!” he shouted. The man next to Balin unsheathed his honor blade, cut his palm, and raised his hand to the sky. This was the original purpose of the honor blades, Jax remembered from Melinda's lesson. The offering of blood enhanced the spell. Balin holstered his pistol, then used his own dagger to slice through the twine on Jax's wrists. Jax gasped in surprise as his hands fell free.

“Now, boy,” Balin said. “Join us or die.” He yanked Jax's own blade out of its sheath and slapped it into Jax's right hand. “Add your blood to the spell.”

Jax looked at Evangeline with absolute certainty. She nodded, then turned toward Riley and squeezed her eyes shut. Jax couldn't tell if Riley took the hint. Gripping his dagger tightly, he flung his left hand out at Wylit, closed his eyes, and shouted out the phrase he'd memorized.

The spell Evangeline had planted in his head poured out of him like ejecta from a volcano. Even through his eyelids, he saw the explosion of light. It wasn't a fireball—just natural light, the flame of a candle multiplied ten thousandfold in a mirror. Balin and the other man cried out in surprise, blinded by the flare, but Wylit howled in agony.

As the flare faded, Jax opened his eyes and saw two things he hadn't expected. Tegan was off the ground, her hands free, sawing at Riley's bindings with a penknife. And Miller pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket, yelling, “Now,
now
!” Then: “Jax, duck!”

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JAX DUCKED.

Miller whipped out his gun and fired point blank at the man standing behind Jax.

Down on the Avenue of the Dead, a series of explosions shattered the silence of the abandoned city.

Miller spun on his heel, firing at Wylit. Balin pushed the old man behind the crate, and returned fire with such vigor that Miller had to retreat down the side of the pyramid, skidding and losing the walkie-talkie on the way.

Tegan finally broke through Riley's bonds. He pulled the gag out of his mouth with one hand and pushed Tegan out of the line of fire with the other. “Drop your gun and hit the ground!” he shouted.