Page 55 of Mardi Gras Murders & Midnight Masquerades
"That's over 150 years," Dani said, horror in her voice. "How could anyone survive that long?"
"The same preservation magic he's used on Marianne," Dre surmised. "He’d been gathering continuous energy from the Society. There are also the murders and larger rituals.”
Lia scowled and said, “No doubt he barely fed her enough to keep her alive. He wouldn’t want her to break free." That was a given.
"This has to be it," Dea said, pointing toward what appeared to be an old maintenance tunnel entrance partly hidden behind overgrown vines.
"Careful," I warned as we approached. "I'm sensing magical wards."
Dani held up her tracker, confirming my suspicion. "Similar signature to the ones at the council building."
"Let me take a look," Dre stepped forward, her fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air. "Complex, but nothing we haven't handled before." Lia jumped right in to help Dre.
Phi cocked her head to the side. "It's beautiful craftsmanship, in a twisted way. How old do you think these wards are?"
"At least a century," Dre muttered as she concentrated. "Maybe older."
"Got it!" Lia announced moments later, as the shimmer of protective magic faded.
We moved into the tunnel, which slopedsteeply downward. "We must be well below street level now," Dani observed as we descended.
"Look at these walls," I said, running my hand along the stone. "This has to be part of the original foundation."
"Guys, over here!" Dea called from a few steps ahead. She was staring intently at what appeared to be a solid section of wall. "There's something here."
"What do you mean?" I asked, joining her.
"It's... I can almost see through it," Dea squinted. "It’s like a veil or?—"
"It’s illusion magic," I finished for her. "Clever."
Dani turned her phone to show us the app had lit up with a golden glow. "Delacroix's essence is definitely behind this wall. Maybe we will find his original body."
"We need to get in there and check. Should we try to open it?" Phi asked as she reached toward the ghostly outline.
"Wait," Dre cautioned, catching her wrist. "We have no idea what kind of traps might be waiting."
"We're going to have to take that chance," I told her. "We have to get in there and help this woman." We exchanged glances and came to a silent agreement. Dea pushed through the illusion and disappeared. We all followed after.
I came up short when we got inside the room. The chamber was large and circular, illuminated by crystals that pulsed with a gold-white light. They lined the walls. Each one was connected to the next by threads of magical energy that crisscrossed the room like a spider's web.
In the center lay what remained of Eleanor Montrose. She was bound to a stone table by tendrils of pure magic that wrapped around her wrists, ankles, and throat like luminous chains. Her body was a study in prolonged suffering. Her skin was stretched taut over protruding bones. It was so thin in places it was nearly translucent. Deep hollows marked hersunken cheeks and eye sockets, while her limbs were little more than skeletal appendages.
Yet the horror didn't end there. Her exposed skin was covered in ritual scars and magical circuits. Some were old and silver, others fresh and angry red. They channeled energy from her body to the crystals surrounding the room. With each pulse of light, I could see her body shudder slightly. It was as though something vital was being extracted from her very essence.
The only part of her that seemed truly alive were her eyes. They were startlingly bright and alert in her wasted face. They tracked our movements with an intelligence that had somehow survived a century and a half of torture.
"Eleanor Montrose," I called softly. "We've come to help you."
The air around us seemed to go still. The dust particles froze in the dim light. The silence felt heavy and expectant. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a faint whisper replied directly in our minds. “Who comes?”The voice was like dry leaves rustling against stone. A collective shiver ran through our group.
"The Six Twisted Sisters," I answered. "We're here to stop Delacroix."
A quiet laugh echoed in our heads. “Many have tried. All have failed. He is too powerful, too patient.”
"We know about the ritual," Dre said. "We know what he's planning."
“As did I, once. As did others after me. Yet here I remain, his eternal supply.”
