Beyond The Stone

Chapter 20

Elsa made to move over them, and Ava yelped and tried to fight her off. Tristan fought for her to stay. In the midst of their struggle they somehow knocked a little clay pot off a nearby table. It broke, and a strange cloud of dust settled down over them.

"Thrustdogger!" Elsa growled with annoyance.

She got up off the bed, and fetched a coil of rope from behind a box determinedly. Tristan stared mutely as the goddess he'd been about to make love to slowly started to warp and transform before his eyes. What he was seeing confused his wits.

"There, there, dearie, there is no need to worry," she crooned as she slid a hand up between his thighs in an effort to play her game for as long as she could.

But Ava wasn't having any of it.

"Get off me, you old bat!" she screamed angrily.

"Well that anti-dote worked a little faster than usual," Elsa mused as she eyed Tristan curiously.

She lunged at his arm, and tried to secure the rope to it. Ava fought her off, surprised at how strong she was. It was just beyond unnatural for a woman her size and age. The two women struggled for a moment until Ava was able to kick the powerful old wretch off the bed. She jumped up and scrambled away to the furthest wall.

'What... what be happening?' Tristan asked groggily.

'Are you blind? That witch was trying to destroy us!' Ava shrieked.

'Where is Elsa?' he asked, still coming to his senses.

He looked around, then looked at his still very proud lance. It had not flagged even a little with all the activity.

"Don't worry, deary, the potion I gave you will keep you aloft for several hours – more than long enough for me to drain you of your life essence through it," Elsabeth told him as she prepared to make another go at securing him.

'THAT is Elsabeth!' Ava screamed determinedly.

Now that his wits were returning, Tristan was starting to understand what was going on.

"Drain me?" he mumbled, searching for understanding.

"I must take life from somewhere to prolong my own," Elsa explained as she lunged at him.

Her eyes drew his to the little dolls that dotted every rafter and corner of her cottage. Hundreds of young men that had been drained into nothing more than a tiny, empty container.

Tristan drew his sword instinctively and plunged it into her stomach defensively. It went right though her. She laughed and pulled herself off the blade. He watched in terror as the hole closed itself up. She took some of the blood that had pooled around his blade and licked it off her fingers maliciously.

"The sort of life that I have taken cannot be destroyed through mortal means," she told him with a decidedly evil chuckle.

She lunged at him again, he rolled over her bed and sprinted the few steps to the kitchen. He tried for the door. An eerie rush of wind pulsed over them, pinning him against the door and keeping it firmly shut behind him. When it stemmed, the door was well and truly locked.

Elsa paced around her little kitchen table, slowly moving towards her prey. Ava abandoned the door and moved off in the opposite direction, trying to keep distance between them. She glanced at the sword in her hand. It was useless. How many other men had tried to defend themselves, only be devoured in some creepy, witchy way in the end? There had to be another way to defend themselves – to get out of there. The jars on the shelf at her back clanked as she pressed past them. She reached up and grabbed one to toss at Elsabeth. Elsabeth growled and jumped out of the way.