Magic Graves

musty, like a tomb.
    A feeling of dread flooded me. Something bad was in the apartment. It hid in the shadows under the furniture, in the cabinets, in the fridge. Fear squirmed through me. I pressed my back against the door, holding Slayer in front of me.
    The creature behind the door scratched again, claws against the steel.
    The walls closed in. I had to get away from this air. Somewhere out in the open. Somewhere where the wind blew under an open sky. Someplace with nothing to crowd me in.
    I had to get out.
    If I left, I risked Saiman's life. Outside the volhvs were waiting. I'd be walking right into their arms.
    The shadows under the furniture grew longer, stretching toward me.
    Get out. Get out now!
    I bit my lip. A quick drop of blood burned on my tongue, the magic in it nipping at me. Clarity returned for a second and light dawned in my head. Badzula. Of course. The endars failed to rip us apart, so the volhvs went for plan B. If Muhammad won't go to the mountain, the mountain must come to Muhammad.
    Saiman walked out of the bedroom. His eyes were glazed over.
    "Saiman!"
    "I must go," he said. "Must get out."
    "No, you really must not." I sprinted to him.
    "I must."
    He headed to the giant window.
    I kicked the back of his right knee. He folded. I caught him on the way down and spun him so he landed on his stomach. He sprawled among the ankle-tall ferns. I locked his left wrist and leaned on him, grinding all of my weight into his left shoulder.
    "Badzula," I told him. "Belorussian creature. Looks like a middle-aged woman with droopy breasts, swaddled in a filthy blanket."
    "I must get out." He tried to roll over, but I had him pinned.
    "Focus, Saiman. Badzula - what's her power?"
    "She incites people to vagrancy."
    "That's right. And we can't be vagrants, because if we walk out of this building, both of us will be killed. We have to stay put."
    "I don't think I can do it."
    "Yes, you can. I'm not planning on getting up."
    "I believe you're right." A small measure of rational thought crept into his voice. "I suppose the furniture isn't really trying to devour us."
    "If it is, I'll chop it with my sword when it gets close."
    "You can let me up now," he said.
    "I don't think so."
    We sat still. The air grew viscous like glue. I had to bite it to get any into my lungs.
    Muscles crawled under me. Saiman couldn't get out of my hold so he decided to shift himself out.
    "Do you stock herbs?"
    "Yes," he said.
    "Do you have water lily?"
    "Yes."
    "Where?"
    "Laboratory, third cabinet."
    "Good." I rolled off of him. I'd have only a second to do this and I had to do it precisely.
    Saiman got up to his knees. As he rose, I threw a fast right hook. He never saw it coming and didn't brace himself. My fist landed on his jaw. His head snapped back. His eyes rolled over and he sagged down.
    Lucky. I ran to the lab.
    It took a hell of a lot of practice to knock someone out. You needed both speed and power to jolt the head enough to rattle the brain inside the skull but not cause permanent damage. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't even try it, but these weren't normal circumstances. Walls were curving in to eat me.
    If I did cause too much damage, he would fix it. Considering what he had done to his body so far, his regeneration would make normal shapeshifters jealous.
    Third cabinet. I threw it open and scanned the glass jars. Dread mugged me like a sodden blanket. Ligularia dentata, Ligularia przewalski... Latin names, why me? Lilium pardalinum, Lobelia siphilitica. Come on, come on... Nymphaea odorata , pond lily. Also known to Russians as odolen-trava, the mermaid flower, an all-purpose pesticide against all things unclean. That would do.
    I dashed to the door, twisting the lid off the jar. A grey powder filled it - ground lily petals, the most potent part of the flower. I slid open the lock. The ward drained down, and I jerked the door ajar.
    Empty hallway greeted me. I hurled the jar and the powder into the hall. A woman wailed, smoke rose from thin air, and Badzula materialized in the middle of the carpet. Skinny, flabby, filthy, with breasts dangling to her waist like two empty bags, she tossed back grimy tangled hair and hissed at me, baring stumps of rotten teeth.
    "That's nice. Fuck you, too."
    I swung. It was textbook saber slash, diagonal, from left to right. I drew the entirety of the blade through the wound. Badzula's body toppled one way, her head rolled the other.
    The weight dropped off my shoulders.