They appeared exactly where Shisti wanted — outside the carved wooden doors that led into Vilkos’ meeting hall. Three men, who had been slouching against the doors and wall, straightened with surprise on their faces.
Shisti began a curse, but her makeshift army went into action first. Three vials flew through the air with precision. Fragile containers shattered, and three bodies stiffened as they fell to the floor. A Nymph marched over and kicked each man in the face. Blood spurted from broken noses. She flashed a vicious grin. “Just making sure.”
There may be hope for this ragtag group of rescuers after all. With the obstacles handily removed, Shisti strode to the doors and held up a hand, feeling for wards. None. But then, Vilkos’ games were about keeping people in, not out. A simple push opened the way. The throne room was empty. Discarded bottles, flasks, and plates containing abandoned half eaten food lay scattered among overturned and tables and chairs.
On silent feet, the Nymphs and Naiads picked their way through the mess to the gigantic tree in the center. The Nymph with the nose-breaking kick placed her hand on the massive trunk and grimaced. “They have turned the growth into unnatural forms. I need a few minutes to talk to the tree so it will let us in. That shouldn’t set off any alerts since the tree will allow it.”
The others looked to Shisti. “That’s fine as long as we aren’t taken by surprise. Spread out and keep watch.”
They did as Shisti said, using the heavy furniture for concealment. Time ticked by. Nothing happened, which only heightened the tension playing along Shisti’s nerves. How long would the farce of a wedding last? More to the point — when would Vilkos get bored and leave? Shisti couldn’t stop the image of sand slipping through an hourglass from filling her mind. She stepped forward with one hand raised, ready to speed things up.
Fortunately, bootsteps echoed from an adjoining hallway, along with slurred voices. The Nymphs and Naiads tensed in their hiding places. A group of Vilkos’ men trooped into the chamber. Shisti held up one hand, hoping the women would wait, but they took the gesture as a signal to attack and leapt from their hiding places. They shouted warcries and attacked, charging the stunned men.
Vilkos’ men recovered, but their reactions were slowed by whatever intoxicants they’d used. Vials streaked through the air and a few men collapsed in ungainly heaps. Nymphs and Naiads descended on their prey with fists and feet. One man at the rear of the group had avoided the initial wave of spells and stumbled back, then turned to run.
Shisti lifted a hand in preparation to cast, but Cilisi raced across the room. Arm raised, she bounded over the unconscious forms and flung a vial at the escaping man’s back. He fell, and she gave him a kick to the face for good measure. Shisti had to wonder if bloodthirstiness was contagious.
The massive trunk trembled and groaned. The noise brought her army to its senses and the women ceased their beatings to gather around. After a few more coaxing words, the bark split, revealing a doorway into darkness.
“Two of you stay here and alert us if more of Vilkos’ men show up.” Shisti removed some of the vials she’d slipped into her gauntlets, whispered the word to activate the spell, and handed them out. “The rest of you, these will glow and give us some light. Let’s go.”
Twisty tree roots, some thick, some thin, formed the ceiling and walls of a corridor with the floor created from hard packed dirt. The path forward circled the tree and sloped steeply downward. Leaves and thorns sprouted along the wood, but didn’t interfere with their progress.
Having a single way forward, and it being the only way back out, didn’t sit well. It would be easy to block the exit. Shisti sent her magic out, testing for limitations. There was a loose web around the tree, but the gaps were more than enough for her magic to be effective. That was some conversation the Nymph had had with the tree.
The path ended in a large circular dungeon where the thorns and leaves changed from sparse to rectangular patches.
“The cells are behind the leaves.” Cilisi ripped at the nearest bunch of leaves, but screamed and stared at her hand. Blisters rose on her skin and a cut across her palm oozed blood. Red welts crept up her arm, and she wheezed, one hand going to her throat as she struggled to breathe.
Shisti examined the injuries. “Poison. Belladonna, manchineel, stinging nettle, and gympie gympie.” Poisons she was familiar with. The symptoms were easy enough to treat, and it only took a moment longer to heal the physical wounds. Turning her attention to the foliage, Shisti conjured an updraft of wind, lifting the skeins of poisonous vegetation, revealing nine mundane wooden doors. Each was shut with a sliding bolt and a small window. The Nymphs and Naiads spread out to peer into the cells.
“Syrini!” Cilisi, heedless that she’d nearly been killed by plants a moment ago, slid the bolt free and threw the door open and rushed into the cell.
“Check the other cells. We’ll take everyone we can find.” Shisti followed Cilisi as the others opened different doors.
The cell was an unimaginative copy of just about every other dungeon prison she’d seen. Dark, dank, and smelly. The walls and ceiling were a continuation of the corridor — intertwined branches covered by thorns and leaves. A woman in a ragged dress lay curled into a ball on the floor. Her hair and skin were so grimy it was impossible to know what shades they originally were. A metal collar encircled her neck and matching cuffs shackled her wrists and ankles. Chains attached her to loops on the ceiling and walls.
“Syrini.” Cilisi fell to her knees beside her sister and tapped the woman’s cheek. “Come on. Wake up. We’re getting out of here.” She rolled her sister onto her back and gasped. “She’s pregnant. But it’s only been a few weeks! Oh, Syrini, what have they done to you?”
Shisti had no answers to that. She directed a spell at the chains, collar, and cuffs, testing the magic. Her innate protection caught a nasty backlash. This spell was strong, but not well crafted. Her power wove into the weaknesses and went to work unweaving the magic. “We’ll have her free of the fetters in a few moments.”
“Vilkos and his men use their magic on the chains and sometimes fight each other for the right to own prisoners. When the current owner is killed, the magic on the chains breaks so the —” Her lips curled in a disgusted snarl. “Property can be moved.”
Shisti crouched by the unconscious woman and placed a palm on her forehead. “She’s human.”
“She’s a Changeling. And I don’t care.” Cilici cupped the woman’s cheek in her palm. “We grew up together and she was caught by The Hunt when she tried to save me.”
“How nice of you to put yourselves in the cell for us.”
Shisti whirled. A hulking man stood in the doorway. Magic poured off the man.
“Rakshasa,” Shisti spat the word. Her father had a few of them in his ranks. They’d been particularly vicious and enthusiastic teachers during the lessons inflicted on her.
“He’s one of the worst ones,” Cilisi whispered.
Shisti didn’t doubt it. She muttered the first words of a curse, going silent when chains clattered to the floor and Syrini pushed past her, stalking confidently toward the demon.
He smirked and rubbed the crotch of his pants. “Hello, wife. I’m happy to see you’re feeling better. No one screams for me quite like you.”
Syrini pushed her filthy hair back and stood straighter. She laughed a dark, hollow sound. “You want screams? Have all you want.” Her skin glowed and the air grew heavy.
The tree shook. Shisti jumped as something cold dripped onto her neck. Moisture formed on the branches, leaves, and thorns — first individual drops that slid over rough bark to join into larger pools, then pools united into streams that flowed toward Syrini. The water flowed upward, twining around her body like snakes.
“No!” Cilisi lunged for Syrini, but a water whip lashed at her, causing her to stumble into Shisti. “You must not,” Cilisi pleaded.
Syrini ignored her and pushed her hands out toward the Rakshasa. Water streamed toward him, splashing his chest.
The demon chuckled and wiped at his wet clothes. “You could use a bath more than —” His words cut off. A look of confusion swept the gloating off his face. He wheezed and pounded on his chest. His body convulsed as he coughed and sputtered. Water flowed out of his nose and mouth, spilling down his chest.
Green scales erupted over Syrini’s skin, replacing grimy skin. In Shisti’s arms, Cilisi let out a muffled sob. The green scales finished covering Syrini’s skin, and the color transferred to her hair.
The Rakshasa dropped to the floor. As deaths went, Syrini’s vengeance wasn’t quick, but after the initial coughs, it was silent as her tormentor struggled to breathe. More water poured from the tree. It flowed over the floor and spiraled around the man like a python, forcing him to hold still.
“I guess you’ll just have to scream in your head.” Syrini taunted, sauntering closer to the demon, placing each bare foot in a puddle of water. She crouched, bending even closer so her face was only inches from the Rakshasa’s, attention riveted as she watched him drown.
When it was done, she stood. Her shoulders slumped and she swayed but remained on her feet. Syrini drew in a deep breath and turning, she faced them. Her now green eyes filled with tears. One escaped and slid down her cheek.
Cilisi broke free of Shisti and ran to Syrini, hugging her tight. “We’ll fix this. Change you back. You’re a Changeling!”
Syrini shook her head. “I’m Rusalka now. Don’t feel sorry for me. It was worth making sure none of the men here will hurt anyone ever again.”
“Um…” Cilisi stared. “None of them?”
The new Rusalka smiled. It was a smile Shisti expected to see on her own lips. The glitter of cruelty in the former Nixie’s now green eyes made the predatory, satisfied smile at home on her face. “I used the tree roots to search everywhere it touches and drowned every one of Vilkos’ men.”
Cilisi opened her mouth, then closed it without a word.
While that would make things easier as far as rescuing prisoners, so much magic in Vilkos’ lair wouldn’t go unnoticed.