What would you do, if a stranger would hire you to steal a device that could destroy the world? What if that same device could make you rich enough to leave behind a place that only gave you sufferance and pain?
Chris didn't need to think about it because his desire for a better life was stronger than anything else. 

The table was long and rectangular with two chairs on each side and one on each end. Four figures were sitting in silence, eyes staring at the empty space in the middle. 

Women, all covered in black but their heads; difficult to say if they were alive or breathing as even the long dark hair - same for all - were not moving at all. 

What they were looking at, Christopher couldn’t say, he was just peeping from a wooden corner door trying to stop his own heart from beating.

The air was thick, dense, smelling like a mixture of coconut and tanned leather, too sweet and nauseating. But his mask was saving him from fainting at every breath.

The table was standing in the centre of an empty room, circular with no corners but that door.

Everything happened faster than he could imagine; the four women grabbed each other hand creating a circle with the palms facing the ceiling, humming in unison. Their bodies started swaying left and right, their voices became a gloomy hymn that filled the air bouncing everywhere.

Pressing both hands on his mouth, Chris moved a foot backward when a roaring explosion of light flung the door open; it was too late, the door hit Christopher on the face made him blind for a moment and losing his balance.
His back struck the marble floor and a cracking noise echoed in the corridor behind him. 

A scream rose from his chest to his lips when he tried to move the left arm; it was clearly and painfully broken laying dead by his body.

That was the end, there was no chance in the entire world that those black women wouldn’t have heard him; propping up the only useful hand he had left Chris sat in the final attempt of hiding and staying alive as long as possible. 

Maybe the pain had numbed his perception, but it seemed like ages passed before he could hear something, different from the hymn, coming out from the room. The buzzing in the ears was confusing, Chris decided it was probably a good time to test the pills he had been given from his client few days before. The brown jacket was ripped here and there but luckily the pockets were intact; with extreme difficulty he managed to pull out a little, transparent capsule which appeared to contain some type of pink powder inside. It felt hard under his fingers.

Freeing his lips from the mask, “This seems just wrong but…Cheers!” he blurted sarcastic, tossing the pill that disappeared few seconds after in his mouth. 

It was like smashing glass between the teeth; the blood, mixed with a sweet and sour taste, run down his throat making Chris sick. But something was happening.

  “Arghh..” he couldn’t help another scream as his left arm started to move like it didn’t belong to him. The forearm which had assumed an unnatural angle went back in the right shape with a snap and the bleeding skin, flayed and open where the bone had come out, was healing.
Christopher thought he would have passed out this time but the pain was quickly calming down. On the floor he could now see a trail of dry blood aiming from his feet to the door. Not a sound was coming from inside, not even the humming of the mysterious women.As he had just woken up from a perfect good night sleep, Chris collected all his energies and stood by the wall. The rest of the money he had been promised, if he would have found the device in the picture he had tattooed on the back of his right hand, would made him rich enough to leave that city forever. 

Proceeding cautious toward where he was standing before he fell, Chris thought something was now moving in the room; a swish and then a clattering of metal on the floor.  

Four net thuds persuaded Christopher something unexpected had just happened. 

Rushing back to the door he could clearly hear someone crying a word; the meaning was completely unknown to him but once at the entrance his hearth stopped for a second. 

The four women were lying on the cold floor apparently all dead but one who was crawling toward the door.
Caught by her eyes full of terror and desperation, Chris didn’t pay attention to the rest; she was dragging the weight of her body toward him, her face was burnt and covered in blood and the dress ripped here and there left her half naked.
  “She can’t have it…help me, please.” her voice came out in a single breath right before she collapsed, immobile on the floor.
It was only then that a sharp laugh burst in the air and Chris realised he was not alone in the room. He snatched the gun from the holster on his left side, aiming in front of him. Someone was watching him, standing on the edge of a tall, narrow window. It was probably noon and, in the bright sunlight, Christopher could only see the shape of a figure. It might have been a girl or a very small boy but for sure it was there for a reason, maybe Chris’s same reason and, by the slaughter it caused, Chris could only think that it was willing to do anything.
  “Who the hell are you, boy?” Chris’s voice echoed in the room. Probably it wasn't the best way to start a conversation with someone against whom you’re holding a gun, but he needed to gain more time, trying to figuring out what to do next.
All he had in response was only another laugh and finally the figure moved away from the light. It was a girl, petite and short, maybe not even fifteen. Her clothes showed the fight she’d engaged just few minutes before; black boots cover in dust and her dark green jumpsuit splotchy with blood. 

Her eyes, one brown and one gold, were darting around, from the women to Chris and back to the lifeless bodies.
  “These bitches are challenging, how dare you even move?” she was talking as Chris was just an extra furniture popped out suddenly. Fully focused on the woman who was trying to escape, she pulled a knife out of one boot and threw it. The blade landed on her shoulder, piercing the flesh; the victim came back to life for a moment, rose her head, screamed in pain and her face hit the floor one more time.
  “Don’t you move!” this time Chris’s sounded older than his age, that voice deep and rough didn’t belong to a boy who had just turned eighteen.
  “You move a finger and I swear on my mother’s life, I’ll shoot.”
 “Watch your mouth, boy,” she whispered pressing one gloved finger on her lips “your     mum could hear you and won’t be pleased.”Gracefully and fast she turned and jumped out of the window, in the same exact moment a golden bullet burst out of Chris’s gun and hit the wall releasing white powder in the air.
Confused and angry for his slow reaction, Christopher run to the window; nobody, not even a cat, could have survived a fall like that. But it looked like that was not trace of the girl, not a print on the ground, no blood. She was simply disappeared.

  “That little b….,” he was stopped by a timid hiss. The woman who previously asked for help - against all odds - was still moving.
  “At least she was right,” despite everything he had not forgotten why he was there, “you ladies are not easy to break.”
He stepped away from the window, knelt next to her sweeping back the hair from her face. She was a mask of dried blood and wounds, her eyes swollen; a lump of red saliva came out of her mouth when she tried to speak again.
  “Oh for my own sake, just stay still, woman. You’ve already caused me troubles and blew up my plan. Now, as it seems, you’re the only one who can lead me to what I’m looking for. You’re sisters are dead, for your information.”

Regardless the pain she might have experienced, he turn her body to better looked at the face; her lips twisted in a grimace when Chris seized her jaw, forcing her mouth open. 

  “You’ll thank me after this, now swallow this and don’t even try to fool me. I’m faster and stronger and, no matter what magic you have, you won’t harm a spider after this.” That said, he tied her hands with some sort of thin, silver rope and shoved one of the pills he used before down in her throat.
Through her eyelashes he saw something shining, she was crying and behind the tears her eyes were deep black. She coughed and started to roll on the floor, shivering with spasms. The ceremonial dress, torn apart by the explosion, had left the legs naked and Chris noticed they were studded with gems; he recognised some amethysts, a small ruby and a circular turquoise, but some of theme were only grey stones sticking out her skin.

  “What the hell…” but once again he stopped because she was now trying to get back on her feet. Bent on a chair, her breath was becoming regular and controlled; although Chris had been watching her the entire time, he was sure she wouldn’t harmed him.
The people who hired him had said that the four sisters’ power originated from their hearths beating together but she was now alone and frightened.

Her voice seemed to surge from the bottom of her soul, deep and eerie.

  “I know why you’re here but it’s too late now. Whoever sent you didn’t really know anything about your poor skills at shooting, by the way,” she was strangely calm now, getting back on her feet, contemplating her sisters’ bodies with resigned expression, “I guess I should thank you anyway for whatever you gave me but if you could only cut this thing wounding my wrists..”

Chris’s face was a mix of surprise and bewilderment as she was now standing in front of him with a good percentage of the body revealed. A young woman with a thin, pale body and very long legs, only covered by a thin layer of black silk. Her bare arms looked fragile and Chris felt almost guilty for having hurt hands such small and delicate; suddenly he wanted to free that creature and give her all his weapons and be her slave.

  “Wait a minute! What trick is this?” Christopher clomped towards her shaking his head as if something was stuck in his ears, “You shouldn’t be able to do anything without your sisters’ help, how can you play with my mind?”She started to laugh with absolutely no anger or hatred; there was something in her gestures and in the way she was now gently crooking his head to look him in the eyes, that Chris couldn’t explain. It was like being in the same room with someone you’ve known since you’ve had memories but who you haven’t seen in a very long time.

  “Stop doing whatever you are doing, stop it now!” he shouted right in front of her face.

  “I am not doing anything, boy, at least not anymore;” she said smiling, “ that was only a test and it apparently worked. Now that you’ve seen what I’m capable of, would you please spare my time and liberate my hands?”

Stepping back, Chris tried to regain some dignity and temper. Her almond shape eyes were fixed on his.  

  “Let me think,” he walked around her avoiding intentionally her look “let’s pretend that I set you free and we both walk away on our own path, then what? I won’t have the object I came for and the money I’ve been promised. You, on the other hand, will end up alone - unless you have the power of bring the dead alive - in this fortress where eventually you’ll die in sadness and despair.”

He stood at her back, “It doesn’t sound convenient for neither of us, don’t you reckon?”

  “I’ve got my magic, little thief.” She was slowly turn around to face him again and almost stumbled on her dress trying to run away.
Chris had taken his jacket off and in a rapid movement flung himself against the woman, wrapping her head to make her blind.

  “You…do…not…play…with…thieves.”
She kicked wildly while he was putting her body on his shoulder like a rolled carpet but Christopher’s muscles were way stronger than hers and eventually she gave up exhaling:

  “What do you want from me, thief? I told you that girl took the device and I asked for help but you let her go. I’m useless to you, just let me go and I swear I won’t harm you; you will never get to see me again.”

Marching triumphant across the room, Chris clenched his harms around her legs; the jacket had fall off her head but she wasn’t a threat anymore. 

  “You’re right woman, without your creepy dead friends, your hands and your eyes you are totally worthless; but I might know someone who would pay good money for something like you. One way or another I will leave this rotten place and you are my special ticket.”
She mumbled indistinct words, especially when he didn’t care about her rushing down the stairs on his way to the main door; her ribs were aching and the unnatural position was making her nauseated.
A blast of heat crashed against them right outside the building and clogged her lungs with a sticky ball of air; gathering all her strength she managed to kick harder.
  “Easy there,” Christopher hands tightened and the stones on her skin made him gnashing  “a bit of sunshine and warmth never killed anyone. It’s time to face real life, princess. Don’t know what kind of comforts you sorceresses were used to and honestly I don’t give a bloody damn. The sooner you accept this new condition the better. Now, we have a long road ahead, shall I choose a name or do you have a proper one?”

Exhausted she fainted on his back, “I don’t…I don’t think I’ve ever had one” was the only think she said before losing consciousness. 

****

The stench inside the tavern was dense and tacky but nobody seemed to be bothered; the voices rising in an escalation of curses and nasty compliments.

Among a group of seven, a very tall and bulky man rose unsteady on his feet and smashed a glass on the table.

  “I tell you what’s better these days, my friends,” he was talking to no one in particular and nobody seemed to listen, “we need to grab all our stuff and leave this city. Without us those rich bastards are nothing. Those lurid sons of…”

His voice chocked when a brawny arm, covered in tattoos and scars, hugged his neck and dragged him aside.

  “Why you never pass out when you’re drunk, like normal people? Jesus, Stinger! I would cut your tongue, if you weren’t my brother.”

Stinger stretched his arms ahead trying to escape but the amount of beer in his body and the other man’s strength were playing against him. 

  “Damn Morris, let me go! Do you really think anyone in this place cares about my words? Learn how to live before you’re too old, brother,” Stinger shuffled the last word mocking Morris, “sooner or later Lady Death will find us and will reclaim our souls. All I ask for, it is to die as far as possible from this nest of rats, with pockets full of money and - possibly - all my limbs still attached to my body.”

  “You stink.” Morris’s reply was conclusive and sharp like his cheekbones. He kept drawing Stinger and didn’t stop until they reached a door that opened on the tavern backyard. Only then he let go and Stinger tumbled, laying half unconscious on the grass.

****

The space outside the tavern was a pond of mud; mosquitoes as big as a hummingbird were flying in circle gliding occasionally on a dead lizard that had been there since morning, for its remains were pale but not yet decomposed. Horses and motorcycles filled the air with nauseous smell of manure and petrol. 

Chris suddenly braked and jumped out the truck slamming the door; his face was melting in sweat and dust. He wasn’t particularly tall but his skinny figure, the unusual long arms and those hair that he’d never bothered to  trim made him look more like a weird elongated creature. Along the way the sorceress had fallen asleep making his journey easier and faster. He had put her in one of the small cages, on the back of the vehicle, and drove for hours thinking what to say to his client now that the device was probably gone forever. The best scenario would have been avoiding Mr. Hochrot, selling the woman and leaving the city behind. Worst scenario: painful death or torture and jail for the rest of his days.
  “Everybody save?” when he beat the side of the truck a chorus of animal sounds woke up  simultaneously. The cages were in plain sight and nothing protected them from sunlight or rain; probably ten or twelve birdcages, some on top of others, some empty. The animals were mainly chickens and pheasants, a couple of black rabbits, which didn’t really need big spaces; but they were not the right size for a person, especially if quite tall and furious. The moment he stopped, she opened her eyes and, remembering where she was and why, start screaming hoping for help. 

  “Look at where we are, pretty face, do you really think a prince in a shining armour would come to rescue you? Now, you be a good girl, shut the hell up and follow me. And because we don’t want to be disturbed, let me put you this on.” Before she could react, he turned her around and slid a piece of fabric above her eyes. She snapped her teeth in an attempt to bite him but her energies were fading and missed the target. The last time she’d eaten had been few hours before the ritual and it started at least two days before Chris showed up. 

  “There is no need to blindfold me; my magic here is as intimidating as a bed time story.”

Her voice was feeble. Tired and dizzy she limped a step or two and fell on her knees. 

  “Come on,” Chris knew in that conditions her value was equal to the chickens in his truck   “here, take one of these pills again. I mean, it’s the last one but after I’ll sell you I won’t need it anymore. I want you to walk into that tavern like a priestess not a scared mouse; your eyes stay shut for the record.”

He went to chuck the medicine in her mouth but she clenched the jaw.

  “I don’t need it,” she stood up straight looking almost regal and fierce, “just guide me inside and let’s end this stupid game. I hoped. I believed you wanted the device so much you would have done anything in you power to get it; but I was wrong. You and the girl who stole it are the same. You truly don’t know the chaos it could cause in the wrong hands.”

The tone in her voice was solemn, Chris hesitated few seconds because in the back of him mind there was something else she was hiding from him; but the thought of easy money and freedom pushed him to proceed.

  “Fine then, if this is what you want, put this on at least; I’m selling a slave not some weird creature; and those stones will only catch attention we don’t need.” 

A dirty cloak fell on her fragile body, Chris stepped closer to make sure it was secured and everything was hidden properly. Their faces were now inches one from the other and she was studying his features with extreme interest.

Chris jumped back.

  “You are a willow.” She stated. “A young one—”

 “I’m sorry, what now?” Chris bewildered outbreak burst in the air and quickly joined the sounds coming from the forest nearby.

  “Your hair, for a start. So long and tangled; fair hair often change colour after a long period under the direct sunlight but yours have an unusual greenish tone, like fronds. Beside you seem pretty adaptable to any situation, like a willow and—”

  “Enough with this nonsense,” Chris grabbed her harm, “if you like willows so much, there you go, you found yourself a name. No more words, Willow, time’s ticking.”

She strolled behind him and what Christopher didn’t see was a shadow of a smile on her lips.

****

The place was overcrowded; drunk, suspicious faces in every corner, but nobody turned when the door flung open. Still on the threshold Chris glimpsed inside as if looking for someone in particular; suddenly budging through the crowd, he moved toward the bar where a silhouette was sipping a glass of red wine. Pale, skinny fingers put the glass down on the counter and the figure elegantly stood up. A woman with blonde hair and a blue velvet dress, left some money next to the glass but the bartender approached her pointing in Chris’s direction.

 “You’ve got visit, Katarina.”

 “Humpf,” she seemed annoyed, her grey eyes scanned the room and when they crossed Christopher’s glance, “what is he trying to sell this time? If it wasn’t for his pretty face, I would have already marked his cheeks with this.” Contemplating her voluminous ring with a visible expensive diamond set in the centre, she smiled at the bartender and blew him a kiss. The dress fluttered on her hips as Katarina flew over the wooden pavement; she lit a cigarette and crooked the head toward a specific corner of the tavern. Chris followed her movements and nodded.

In the last few minutes the place had become almost empty and it was easier to follow the thin trail of smoke released by the cigarette, clenched between her ruby lips.

 “Who is that woman?” Willow’s voice manifested undisguised concern but Chris pretended not to hear it. He quickened and few steps later touched Katarina on the shoulder.

She let the cigarette burn through her lips and tossed it in a glass full of bear; a man aimed to his knife and pointed it to her throat but his threats faded on his mouth.

  “Katarina, I…I didn’t know it was you…”

He quickly retracted the blade and rushed his way out. 

  “Shall we have a sit? You, dear Chris, look so delightfully botchy, as usual. But your friend here—” Katarina left a word hanged and bend to better look at Willow who proudly lift the head. Katarina shivered imperceptible and Chris felt that what a bomb of emotions had just exploded inside her mind; he got nearer because she was now whispering.

  “What is this news, boy? I don’t trade on human beings, why did you bring this woman to me? Beside I don’t like her vibes.” She shrunk back on the chair, interlacing her fingers and studying Willow with curiosity.

  “She is not just a woman,” Chris spoke lowering his voice as much as possible to avoid any nosy presence, “have a look at her legs—”

   “This is outrageous—” Willow blurted throwing herself over the table but Chris’s thief skills were well trained and he caught her with both hands: “Sit down,” he hissed sullenly and for the first time Willow truly realised she was among strangers and Chris was one of them, “I’ve been perhaps too soft with you but you won’t stand between me and my last chance to leave this city.”

He pushed her back on the chair and lift a flap of her cloak.

  “Look yourself!” he murmured addressed to Katarina. She peeped under the table and her expression changed from bored to astonished. 

  “I’ve only seen legs like those once, on a book and it was about…I can’t remember honestly,” she relaxed her shoulders and lit another cigarette “but it’s your lucky day Chris, you now have all my attention.”

Blowing away a blue, cloud of smoke that smelled like cherry, Katarina stood up.

  “I suggest we go somewhere else, though; too many ears here and I’m not talking about  all those fat, drunk men.” Charming and elegant as a the queen of the vipers, she blinked at the bartender; only then Chris noticed that for all the time they had been talking, they had attracted his attention and he was particularly focused on the tattoo on Chris’s hand. The man disappeared behind the kitchen door as he had remembered he had a pan on the stove.

  “And that is the signal we better leave this place as fast as we can. Something’s saying to me that your friend is more than a pretty face, what is it that you’re not telling me?” Katarina’s face was a marble slab, green veins on her forehead were pulsing; Chris had never seen her mad but that was enough.

  “I promise you’ll know all the details but as you said, time to go!” Chris rushed out from the back door dragging Willow with him; Katarina followed them walking with her rediscovered grace. 
The back door slammed violently behind Katarina and she performed a flawless leap to avoid a puddle in a drop between the door and ground.

  “I hope you still have that wreck vehicle of yours, because I do think we’re going to need—” but her voice stopped because of the scene in front of her.

Two human mountains, half covered in dirt, mud and tattoos, with thick dark skin, were restraining Christopher and Willow; they both had a large hunter knife to their hostages’ throats. 

  “Oh well, this is not good. Gentlemen, would you please release my guests?”

Katarina stayed unbelievable calm, one hand hidden behind her back.

  “You stay where you are, miss,” the tallest man had spoken pressing the blade harder against Chris’s skin, “if you do what we say nobody will get hurt…more or less.” 

Morris and Stinger burst both in a hoarse laugh which quickly die when a couple of loud bangs hit Stinger’s right foot and one of his brother’s shoulder.

Katarina had not move since she spoke in first place with the only difference that she had rapidly pulled her Smith Wesson out and the smoke from its barrel had made her face blurry like behind a thick curtain of fog. She smirked satisfied. 

Chris slipped away from Stinger’s grip and, taking advantage of his pain, managed to take his knife. 

Right next to him Willow bit Morris’s arm and kicked him in one knee; all the movements she had gone through, loosened the rope around her wrists and she finally had free hands. 

Behind Katarina a clattering noise caught her attention; the door flung open and a group of five men showed up. Only a few were armed and - after careful consideration - Katarina concluded that the rest of them wouldn’t been able to even hold a plastic knife. Three were  well known to her, the unworthy bartender and two of his best clients; stupid chicken-brained with more muscles than a bull. But the others were definitely a glamorous addition in a cheap painting: both pudgy and dressed up as for a fancy masquerade ball. Golden and scarlet velvet wrapped their plump figures but their flabby chins. 

  “There he is, that miserable, filthy thief. Chris!” One of the men shouted spattering saliva. 

  “Get him nooow, you useless beasts!” he lashed out the men behind him. 

Stifled by the anger in his words, he pointed a stubby finger to Chris who hadn’t notice him until then but that face was too familiar to him.

  “Mr. Hochrot—” he grumbled before focusing his energy back on the rest of the scene. 

Prevailing on a single, wounded enemy had been easy but dealing with two human-bears while you need to keep an eye on a vicious, extremely charming, blonde smuggler and a valuable sorceress, that was a bigger can of worms. 

Christopher leaped himself on the ground, sliding right between the massive legs of one of Mr. Hochrot guards; spurts of mud made the visual in front of him a bit difficult and confused. He had a glimpse of Katarina careening toward one side of the building seeking repair.

Christopher got rapidly back on his feet, just in time to avoid a punch to the jaw from one of the beasts then pounced on the aggressor, clenched fists, while the other man had enough time to shoot a dart before his accomplice and Chris tumbled on him. 

The dart missed the target but its hissing noise ended in a weep; Hochrot hit heavily the wall behind him and fell to the ground with the dart stuck in his neck.

Morris and Stinger had enough time to gain back their strength and were marching toward Chris and the others. Despite wounds and scratches the brothers entered the fray and Chris cried out when the weight of their muscular bodies blocked his like a fish between two rocks.

He felt his arm being stretched and pulled and suddenly he was standing straight - feet midair - while Stinger and Morris were taking him away.

  “We’ll take care of you later, boy.” Morris’s voice sounded almost satisfied as taking part in a fight he wasn’t even contemplated had been the best moment of his day so far. He towered his brother and everybody else there; from his position Chris could see his large neck, full of dark blue veins. As a piece of meat left on the grill for too long, the skin on his face looked tough and dry - brownish Christopher thought - and the brand on the right temple made him most similar to a mutton escaped from a farm nearby. 

  “Put me down!” Chris’s order didn’t produce the result he expected and he spat only few more very unpleasant words before the brothers hurled him like a bag of potatoes, against the wall next to where Mr. Hochrot was snoring placidly. His eyes wandered around confused before meeting Katarina’s. Hiding like a puppy, she was crouched down behind a bush.

  “Don’t look at me like you wouldn’t have done the same. I was here to close a deal, not engaging a duel against those pigs over there.” There was no trace of fright on her face, she was simply waiting to see who would have the upper hand to make her next move. 

  “You are a devious, beautiful —”

Chris shook his head suddenly remembering what was going on right in front of him.
An uproar of punches and fractured bones and then an unexpected silence forced him and Katarina to turn in the same direction.
Mr. Hochrot’s hounds yielded to Morris and Stinger kneeling on top of them, both holding in the air the finishing blow that would have knocked them down but the four of them were like mesmerised by Willow’s gesturing.

She took off the cloak and with a scream that echoed all over, making everybody’s skin crawl, yanked a purple stone out of her leg and pressed it on to her forehead. Morris and Stinger froze bewildered, bleeding and groggy in the mud. Chris had clear vision of her leg; a deep wound above the ankle, as if a piece of flesh had been ripped off, was slowly healing and instead of the bleeding hole, it was growing a new grey piece of rock.

A whining noise filled the air as the gem on Willow’s head disappeared, embodied in to her skin radiating beams of light from her whole body.

Morris and Stinger laid down covering the heads as defending themselves from a bomb, Katarina protected her eyes rising one arm but Chris stood still, fascinated from what was happening. He stepped in the circle of light and a snug, comforting sensation lavished through his limbs; it was like floating in a dimension where he could see the others scared to death from what was happening but nobody could see him. Willow - no longer screaming - had never lost conscience but her face was pale and unnaturally transfigured as she turned to Chris. He appeared to be mostly curious, his mouth moved to form a single word.

  “How—?”

  Please, don’t come closer— she was in his head— I didn’t want to get to this point but you didn’t leave me other choice. Now close your eyes, I’ve never tried this without my sisters's help and outside the palace. If it goes as I hope, in little time none of you would remember and I’ll be free to start searching for what has been stolen from me.

  “Noooo!” the scream came out of Chris chest as a wave of energy as he flung himself to Willos and grabbed her hand.

  “You’re not going anywhere; there is some sort of power in you and, as long as I’m alive, you go where I go. Device or not, you’re valuable. Let them forget,” pointing at the frozen scene behind them, “if I’d burn or explode or whatever the hell your magic would do to me, it’ll worth it. Have got nothing to lose but my life.” And so said he clenched both her wrists; Willow stuck her nails in his skin in an attempt of wiggling out but it was too late. Chris’s lips crumpled with pain but he didn’t let go and held the grip even when something touched his boots. With unexpected agility Stinger and Morris dashed toward the light and tumbled at his feet. From afar Katarina followed the scene.

  “This time boy you’ve gone too far. Whatever your sorceress is capable of, it doesn’t worth my life.”
Her words, a whiff that got hushed by a final blast of light. Willow, Chris and the brothers disappeared in a vortex of voices and ghastly sounds.
After them, only a deep whole in the ground and a lingering whistle in the ears of whom had been left behind.

Chris felt his body being dragged in every possible direction and it was just about time until the skin would tore off from his muscles.
A tornado of warm energy had left him, Willow and the brothers off the ground and they were spinning so fast that nothing could be seen but a mist of sparks and lightnings.
Despite everything Chris’s hand was still clenched on Willow’s shoulder: “What the hell is happening? Where are you taking me?”

Willow’s face was a blank page of silence, she didn’t look at him not even a second - her eyes lifeless. It was only now that Chris noticed two blurred and black spots spinning one in the opposite direction of the other. They seemed to accelerate and for a moment Chris lost his focus as his eyes crossed; but a sudden and grave sound forced him to look again. Like grey clouds the two bulks clashed causing a temporary shaking movement inside the tornado. After what it seemed like few very long seconds the bodies of Stinger and Morris were lying at mid-air, unconscious and still.

They’re alive, Chris, as much as you are. This is not some kind of dream but remember I warned you. You shouldn’t have followed me.

Willow’s calm voice once again mesmerised his senses. His gaze, as under a spell, could not stare away from her. A reassuring white light illuminated her gentle-shaped face; she looked very young, her skin so pearly. Her lips were moving faintly forming words with no sound. It took only few seconds and Chris’s mind was travelling far away, forgetting about everything had happened not long before. Heavy eyelids and numbed thoughts  were about to made him unconscious but a new noise - this time terrifying, of a proper explosion - filled the air and Chris got violently thrown away against an invisible wall behind him. The tornado started to spin faster making every movement impossible and painful - every inch of his skin felt pulled and dragged downward.
From the corner of his eye Chris saw Willow holding up the arms while a wave of energy ruffled her hair and dress. The stone she had used somehow to cast the spell fell off her forehead, leaving an open bleeding wound through the skin. A sharp cold feeling punched Chris in the chest when he tried to scream something. Stinger and Morris got swallowed up to the top of a column of wind and fog that few instants later drew in Willow too. From afar Chris finally heard the brothers bagging for their lives and he shuddered when a terrified female scream covered and hushed their voices.
Before he could even realised, the pressure on his body weakened and he got sucked inside the column all of a sudden; an icy cold, invisible hand slapped him in the face so hard that his neck snapped. The pain dimmed his sense and a sheer curtain of white smog obscure his sight.

It was like being cuddled inside many arms. Chris flickered in the air as laying in a rocking cradle and around him three other bodies appeared in the same position, as a gentle breeze blew the fog away making every face and shape neater; only few inches separated them from the ground.All around it was silence and white. Some naked trees outlined the profile of a path half-hidden by the snow, while from afar the high tops of a circus looked like colourful giant     jester’s hats. A snowflake gently fell on Willow’s cheek and immediately melted rolling over her face; her eyelashes flattered. The spell that was controlling them as dancing leaves in the air broke and they all open the eyes at the same time crashing down to the frozen ground. 

  “Whoever is responsible for this will pay with something more precious than its life!” Stinger was the first one who, despite soreness and confusion, stood up - the slithery bricks made his movements awkward while he pretended to be at his ease threatening an invisible enemy with his fist. 

  “Morris!” turning attention to his brother “Get back on your feet, you lazy bear.” Morris was curled up with the head hidden between his arms, resembling a massive, scared cub; but this didn’t stop Stinger from kicking him in the legs.

   “I said stand up! We cannot waste more time; get the girl and I’ll take care of the boy. This place is cold as our mother’s heart and I don’t intend to die here.”

Morris grumbled indistinct words and using his hands as a lever tried to assume a dignified upright position. But his chunky legs - very useful when it come to kick or break somebody’s limbs - didn’t make his job easier and with nothing nearby to grab, Morris lost his balance as soon as he moved the first step toward Willow; the girl — who had manage to sit — looked at him trying to figure out what was going on. The thin layer of ice cracked under Morris’s weight and a group of blue-iced veins spread from his body and didn’t stop until it reached what it seemed like a wooden fence. The brothers exchanged a worried looks while Willow followed the entire perimeter of the fence with her eyes.

  “Do not make a move, please.” It was Chris who spoke up everybody’s mind. “This is a frozen lake.”

A surreal silence froze the scene as in a giant snowy glass ball; Chris carefully crawled toward the fence which seemed not too far, but as soon as his hand laid on the surface another crack formed. It didn’t appeared to go deep inside the lake but it was enough to make Chris stopped for a moment, fearing for the worst. He slowly turned his head back to the others, who were staring at him in apprehension. The likely chance of drowning into a frozen lake, in the middle of nowhere wasn’t an option for neither of them, even Morris and Stinger stood still while Chris tried a new attempt. This time his instinct told him to take advantage of the ice and slide using hands and knees as they were skates. 

The skin of his palms started aching after few seconds, the cold was almost unbearable and his clothes were not appropriate at all. Snow mixed with water started to fall and his t-shirt was getting wet, leaving nothing but a thin layer of fabric between Chris’s back and the icy wind. 

   “Please Chris, be careful.”

Willow spoke as even her breath could be devastating. Despite the pungent pain, Chris smiled unseen; being addressed with something different from a warning or worst - for once - wasn’t that bad.

Moving agile like the experienced thief he was, he made it to the rime of the lake and when  his hands sunk into a fresh coat of snow he finally felt save of letting his lungs breath normally again. Shivering he waved to Willow, ignoring the brothers:

   “Try to follow the same path, slide slowly and do not look back. You’re lighter than me, it should be easier for you…”

The voice stretched on the last word and his eyes paused on the brothers who were holding back the urge of running towards Chris and beat him to death. 

Snowflakes started to fall - timid at first - growing bigger and heavier every second and that was the signal for Willow that she’d better hurried. Her mind covered the path twice back and forth before she knelt slowly. Disturbing cracking sounds made her body vigil but she moved forward keeping her eyes on Chris, on the other side of the lake, waiting for her. The silky dress - despite being too thin and wet - helped her movements being smoother and faster and in a few seconds Willow found herself right halfway. 

She smiled faintly letting the heart beat normally. Her shoulders relaxed but in the same instant the echo of something coming up from underground vibrated through her hands, up to her chest. 

Willow read the panic in Chris’s expression and when he screamed: “Behind you!”

The vibrations grew in intensity and this time they were not just from below; heavy footsteps moved towards Willow and her arms begun to split up while a deep, large slit opened under her eyes. The ice wasn’t that thick as they thought and some iced-cold water gushed from the crack. 

Like charging bulls Morris and Stinger went past her followed by icy splinters and a terrifying rumble. 

   “Willow! Oh, for my sake…” Chris stepped back on to the lake surface - near the rim the ice still looked solid and safe. 

   “Chris, no! Don’t come back! There is no need to risk the two of us…aaahhh…”

Willow’s left hand had slipped inside the broken ice and the sharp edge had cut into the flesh making the water bright red. The spot where the brothers had been standing before was a watery mirror whit floating islands of ice here and there. Holding the wounded arm on her chest, Willow stood up gathering all the energies for a life-saver jump that brought her few inches far from the rest of the group. Her legs ached for the run and the low temperature had put her body in a lethargic state, she felt to the ground, half covered in soft snow. In front of her Chris and the Stinger were confronting each other - Stinger, taller and bigger, bent over Chris’s face showing his teeth:

   “I say we must tie her to a tree and leave her there until we find a way to go back home. And once we’re safe we can trade the witch for cash. We could share…”

Stinger was shaking and pointed out at Willow; his eyes, though, didn’t loose Chris for a moment.

   “And how do you think we’ll find our way back, if we don’t even know where the hell are we? She brought us here - oh, by the way you two were not invited - and she’s the only one who can bring us back. Now, you keep your filthy hands off of her or I’ll make sure you won’t have any hand at all.”

Chris’s voice was furious and roared making Stinger flinch. 

   “Alright, everybody calm down.” Morris emerged from a couple of trees where he had been waiting for the duo to finish.  

   “You might have not noticed it but” nodding towards Willow who was silently walked away “our little sorceress is trying to go home all alone. Hey, witch, first rule for a perfect escape: never leave traces.” 

The wound was still bleeding leaving a well-visible red line behind her.

     “Willow wait!” Chris rushed after her, pushing Stinger aside and as he started to follow Chris, his brother stopped him seizing his arm: “The boy is not wrong, think about it. Even if we take her, then what? We don’t know anybody here, are you willing to risk your life for a bag of coins?”

Morris had always have a natural persuasive power on Stinger, they were both strong and threatening but he knew how to speak; his mother used to say that he could have been a great lawyer if he only would. But beating people and stealing were activities that better suited the brothers since they were young. Stinger nodded: “Can we at least follow them? They’re almost out of sight.” 

Indeed Chris and Willow were now so far that only Willow’s black dress made them recognisable; they had stopped, though, and it looked like Chris was trying to take Willow’s hand and let her stay. The wind begun to howl and a light curtain of snow rose in front of Stinger and Morris making almost impossible to understand what was happening. 

   “Let’s keep moving before we turn in two human ice sculptures.” Morris said leading their steps forwards.