Still nothing moved but trees and birds and insects, and a snake that slithered quickly into the undergrowth as she walked carefully on. Where the hell were they? The sun blazed down on her unprotected head; wishing belatedly that she’d remembered to bring a hat, she stood in the shade of an archway and thumbed the screen of her phone once more. It was more to pass the time than out of genuine curiosity, but a paragraph caught her eye. She scrolled quickly back up to it.
Earthenware pots with a magical purpose have been found buried at several points throughout the ruins. A charm would be placed in the pot by the homeowner which, together with special rituals, enticed a djinn to enter them. This guardian spirit, should anyone enter the house with evil intent, would drive the thief mad.
Cassie’s throat felt suddenly very dry. No, she thought. Don’t be silly. That’s old superstition, no more. The Svenssons had doubtless brought her here knowing how unnerving the place was – and how conveniently abandoned.
All the same, she wished they’d hurry up and show their hand. The sun was beginning to dip back towards the horizon, and Few or not, she did not want to be here in the dark, with djinns and ghosts and who knew what else …
Cassie’s fingers tightened on the backpack strap. Come on. She was being foolish, not to mention cowardly. She couldn’t let any fear cloud her mind, or she’d never pull this off. Of course she wouldn’t simply hand the Knife and the Pendant to those two evil bitches. She’d beaten them before, and with ease; and she was more confident in her power now than she had been, even in New York when she’d given them such a thrashing. True, she had no particular plan, but she’d play it by ear. When she left this place – and she’d be more than happy when that moment came – she’d have Ranjit and the artefacts. The Svenssons, damn their icy eyes, would have nothing.
It wasn’t as if she thought for a moment that they’d hand Ranjit over. More than likely the Svenssons were planning their own double-cross, and intended to kill them both. Cassie was not going to let that happen.
She jumped as the phone in her hand vibrated again.
Ranjit Singh
Angry with herself for the leaping of her heart, Cassie tapped the message.
The Palace. Turn right. Then 40 metres.
Cassie swallowed, assailed again by that horrible sense of being watched. But at least it was time to move and to act. She didn’t know how much longer she could have stood it, waiting in the eerie silence of the ruined town.
The shadows of the crumbling walls seemed to grow longer as she walked the last few metres and climbed ramshackle steps. Throat tight and blood pounding, she stepped through a pointed archway and made her way silently through the roofless rooms. The walls were pocked with holes where lamps must have once burned, but there were none now, of course: only the shifting low sunlight and the unnerving shadows.
At the entrance to a smaller chamber Cassie stopped, listening. Now. She was sure.
As if waiting only for her thought, the two women stepped out into the gathering twilight: Katerina and Brigitte Svensson, palely beautiful and haughty. And triumphant, thought Cassie bitterly.
And there, between them, sagging in their grip, they held the wounded Ranjit Singh.
Cassie couldn’t help sucking in a lungful of air. For an instant she felt dizzy, but she got a grip on herself fast, gripping the backpack strap so hard her fingernails dug painfully into her palms.
Ranjit wasn’t looking at her. His head drooped forward, and when Katerina seized his hair and yanked it up, Cassie wanted to be sick, and her heart choked her throat. His face was bruised and bloody, but that wasn’t the worst of it; the worst was his eyes, which had the stunned, unseeing glaze of the deeply drugged. She had to restrain herself from crying out, dropping everything and rushing over to him.
Gritting her teeth, Cassie stepped up to meet her enemies, swinging the backpack carefully down from her shoulder.
‘Give him to me,’ she growled.
‘Give us the artefacts,’ snarled Brigitte.
Immobilised by indecision, Cassie looked for the first time beyond the two women. No, she hadn’t imagined it: there was a light, glowing softly in an alcove behind them, but growing more intense as she watched. There was something about that light she didn’t like one bit. Cassie frowned, and met Katerina’s eyes.
‘Give me Ranjit. That was the deal. Wasn’t it, Tiger_ eye?’
Katerina shook her captive’s arm roughly, smirking at Cassie, her eyes red with spirit-light and fury.
‘Hah! Come on then, Scholarship. Come on and take him!’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cassie stepped forward. Never letting her gaze leave Katerina’s face, she reached into the backpack. As she closed her fingers round the hilt of the Knife, she felt its carvings stir into life, and the old inevitable thrill ran through her veins.
‘Show me,’ hissed Katerina.
Cassie drew out the Knife and the Pendant in one hand. The light that seeped from the alcove behind the Svenssons made the artefacts gleam with a supernatural light.
Brigitte’s eyes were brilliant with greed. ‘Now hand them over.’
Cassie slipped the artefacts back into the backpack, letting go of the Pendant but keeping her fingers lightly around the Knife’s hilt in the confines of the bag. She stretched the backpack towards Katerina. As the blonde girl reached for the straps, Cassie shut her eyes once, then snapped them open. She flung the backpack aside, the Knife still clutched in her hand.
As she’d hoped, Katerina and Brigitte lunged for the backpack before they’d realised what Cassie was doing. She took her chance to leap for Ranjit as they let him fall.