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Chapter 79: Horror of the Living
Vanya jerked back to consciousness as her throat seized into a painful cough. She hacked up the clump of dried vomit, blood, and saliva, then sagged against the chains that restrained her neck and wrists to the damp wall behind her.
Darkness was all she could see. A spinning abyss of confusion, fear, and inexplicable pain that pounded between her ears as she tried to slow her breathing. Over and over again, Vanya’s mind tried to crawl to the edge of reason to understand where she was and why she couldn’t see—yet bulked and lost its footing beneath the sharp spasms of pain that seemed to have blinded her.
“Marchioness, you’re finally here!”
The female voice, some distance away, stole Vanya’s breath as her body began to shake. She clenched her teeth against the hopeless rage that followed and strained her frayed senses towards the distant conversation.
“I can’t say I wasn’t relieved to have an excuse to leave that stuffy cathedral,” another female voice replied, sounding somewhat hesitant. “Are they ready then?”
“Yes, Marchioness! I have them waiting right here for you. A pretty color they are too.”
“I see,” the woman still sounded hesitant and even faintly disturbed. “Do I need to—use them both?”
“That does tend to produce the most accurate effect,” the sinister voice replied, apparently pleased by the younger woman’s reaction. “Of course—if you find that it is too difficult. I would be happy—”
“Thank you, Sister Layla. But I can manage this much on my own.”
Another spasm of pain began, starting just below Vanya’s eyes and spreading down her jaw and neck. Try as she might to hold back the cry of pain behind clenched teeth, a faint whimper leaked free.
“Is the Witch Hunter still alive?”
“She’s been in and out since surgery,” Sister Layla replied. “Stubborn little thing. The pain proved to be too much for her in the end.”
“She?” The Marchioness sounded faintly skeptical. “Well, keep her alive for now—the Earl and I may have questions—for after.”
“Everything the half-witch knows can be found in her memories, which you will soon possess,” Layla countered, sounding faintly annoyed. “And I was told I could have the rest after preparing these for you.”
“I highly doubt the Earl made such promises.” A faint sound of a wood scraping against the floor filled the tense silence that followed before Vanya heard the Marchioness’s voice again. “I will be back to check on the Witch Hunter later to ensure your cooperation, Sister Layla.”
“Tsk!” Layla growled but quickly added in a simpering tone. “As you command Lady of Twilight.”
Vanya strained her ears and senses in the silence that followed. In her present condition, she could barely make out the sound of the Marchioness’s feet as they receded further into the distance. However battered her body and mind might be, Vanya did not miss the familiar repulsive scent which grew stronger as Sister Layla approached. Her mind simply refused to accept the reality she now faced.
“You made quite the mess earlier,” Layla chortled as her musky, putrid breath ran over Vanya’s face. “And now I’m expected to keep you alive? What a waste.”
Cold fingers dug into Vanya’s damp curls then dragged down her cheek where, for a moment, they brushed over a strip of cloth wrapped around the Witch Hunter’s eyes. A sickening fear awakened in the half-witch’s gut as she jerked her head away, pressing against the restraint around her neck that appeared to have weakened her already chaotic magic.
“That’s right, keep kicking away!” Layla cheered maliciously. “The meat doesn’t taste quite right if the blood lays still for too long.”
That was all the confirmation Vanya needed. A flood of pain followed as her natural body response took over. The Witch Hunter strained against the rough metal restraints as she dry heaved what little remained in her stomach. The cannibal witch’s laughter pounded mercilessly against the agony that burned behind her eyes.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Layla snickered as a cool bit of cloth ran over Vanya’s sputtering lips. “Don’t worry, they’ll forget about you as soon as Marchioness Serilda consumes the secrets contained in your pretty eyes.”
The pendulum of fear that had hovered over Vanya’s dwindling reason and sanity snapped free. Her body froze in place. Her mind screeched to a sudden halt as the darkness swallowed her completely.
‘They’ve taken—my eyes. I’ve not only failed Ripper and the Pope—but now I’ve exposed the Church’s plans—and Gus as well.’
The horrifying reality of her fate only slightly lessened the monumental weight of her failure. She was about to be eaten by a cannibal witch. The unnatural strength Vanya had always been so proud of was about to be taken by the enemy and used against the Witch Hunter Order, Pope Jericho, and Gus.
“It’s been such a long time since I’ve tasted the flesh of a half-witch,” Layla mused in a sickly hungry tone. “I’m suddenly feeling greedy. Perhaps I won’t share you with the other Sisters. At least, not until I’ve eaten all the best bits.”
‘I can’t—I can’t—I can’t let them!’
The voice that slid past Vanya’s lips in a desperate feeble prayer was not that of the Saints, Ripper, or even the Pope. It was an old name, found only in the ancient tapestries of the Witch Hunter Order and the distant wild slopes of the Tharyn Mountains.
“Minerva. Mother of Earth. Help me—please!”
A deep silence settled upon the darkness which surrounded the kneeling half-witch. Instinct tingled against the hairs of her neck and arms as cannibal witch laughed scornfully.
“Look at the faithful hound begging to a dead god,” Layal sneered coldly. “Whatever happened to your faith, Witch Hunter?”
The metal around Vanya’s neck ran hot, then cold, as strength returned to her constrained and numb limbs.
“Oh? Are you seriously trying to break free?” Layla’s tone turned cautious before she giggled in delight. “Well, that would give me more than enough cause to finish this up sooner and enjoy my feast.”
“Your disgusting,” Vanya snarled, remaining completely still as the earth around them filled her core with vengeful magic. “I swear to Minerva and the Saints I will hunt down each and every one of you cannibal witches and tear you limb from limb.”
“Ohhh, nooo!” Layla cackled. “Oh, Please! Threaten me again! Go on, little blind dog. I want to hear the best insults you have to offer before I rip out that juicy tongue of yours.”
Vanya sneered at the howling witch. Every sound, every step, every word had honed her senses in on the cannibal’s physical location.
“No? Out of insults already?” Layla snorted scornfully. “Even if you were a coven witch, those restraints would nullify your magic.”
The Witch Hunter stiffened as the cannibal’s putrid breath returned to her cheek and a sharp nail dragged its way up her throat to tap on the metal restraint.
“But don’t let me dowse that fighting spirit of yours. The more you struggle, the better you’ll taste when I—” The rest of Layla’s words scattered beneath the crushing blow of Vanya’s right hand.
The Witch Hunter quickly ripped her left hand free and then strained against the enchant on her collar. The metal twisted and snapped, the ancient spell crafted by earth mages of old burned against the half-witch’s will—and then suddenly vanished. After that, the metal collar might as well have been composed of dry twigs; it shattered to pieces in Vanya’s hands.
The Witch Hunter crawled forward blindly. Blood poured slowly through her bandages and down her cheek as she climbed over the cannibal’s body, found the witch’s face, and then battered it into the earth with her bare fists.
Only after her hands and forearms had gone numb did Vanya scream. She sagged forward and then crawled away from the bloody mess to listen to the ripples of her agony fade away until only darkness and the smell of blood and death remained.
Vanya found an exterior wall and leaned against it as her teeth chattered and her heart pounded in tune with the sporadic thoughts swimming inside the fishbowl of pain that was her head.
‘Where am I? Somewhere underground?’
‘I have to get back. The minute that Marchioness eats my eyes, Gus will be exposed.’
‘I can’t go back. If I do—either Terik or Ripper will kill me.’
‘Why did I come back to Lafeara? Why did I even return to Zarus?’
‘I’m so sorry, Tarlay. You gave me another chance to prove myself and then died, allowing me to escape. And this is all I amounted to.’
‘Even if the Pope decides to spare me—the only place for a useless blind half-witch is the breeder huts. I’d rather be dead.’
Vanya choked on the hopelessness that threatened to consume her and banged her right hand against the wall in an effort to shake her mind clear. The vibrations outlined the room in a shimmer of violet light, leaving only a black hole in the shape of a door before it faded back to darkness.
The Witch Hunter froze, then banged her hand against the wall again. Once more, the room lit up as if roughly sketched by a piece of glowing purple chalk. Vanya quickly climbed to her feet and leaned against the wall.
‘I’m going to get out of this place first. And I’ll kill any cannibal that gets in my way.’ She clenched her chattering teeth together as she took her first step towards the black door. ‘I’ll find a way to warn Gus. I can think about the consequences of my failure later—after I escape this place.’
***
Getting through the Fortress Palace gate proved to be more eventful than Carina had anticipated. Two Witch Hunters moved amongst the capital knights, who immediately stepped forward to block the Duchess’s carriage.
“Go back to Bastiallano, Plague Witch!” shouted the blonde male Witch Hunter. “You are not welcome here!”
“How dare you!” Captain Arlo bellowed while the knights of Bastiallano shifted with barely subdued rage. “This is Lafeara, not your pretentious Holy City. The Duchess has the royal family’s permission to enter and leave as she pleases. Step aside!”
“The Crown Prince has given us authority to ensure the Pope’s safety,” countered the Witch Hunter sporting a brown beard with braids. “And we find the presence of your Witch Mistress a threat to his Holiness’s safety.”
Arlo turned his angry glare on Captain Sloane, who stood silently behind the pair of Witch Hunters. “Have you nothing to say, Captain? Or have you surrendered your authority to these foreign hounds?”
Carina glanced across the carriage to Lieutenant Declan. The half-witch, who had pressed himself down against the seat to avoid detection, now lifted his head cautiously to peer between the cracks of the drawn curtains. “A friend of yours?”
“My old superior,” Declan whispered back as he ducked back down against the seat. “I’m afraid he lacks the backbone to put those Witch Hunter’s in their place.”
“I see.” The Duchess sighed and silently communicated this information to Captain Arlo. “We may have to find another way in.”
‘There is still the secret tunnel on the west exterior wall that leads directly into Rose Palace.’
“What is the problem?” Percy’s cold but calm voice floated in through the carriage window as he strode past her door. Carina blinked; she had almost forgotten the Earl was following them in his carriage. “What possible reason would a mere Captain have to block the Duchess of Bastiallano from entering?”
“Earl Hawthorne,” Sloane greeted with notable hesitation. “I mean no disrespect to her Grace, but there has been some concern given the nature of our esteemed guests.”
“Are you suggesting that her Grace means to harm either his Majesty or the Pope?” Percy countered with an audible sneer. “Is that what you’re implying.”
“What? No! No, I would not dare, my Lord!”
“Then stop blocking the way and clear away these outsiders.”
“Ahha!” The bearded Witch Hunter snorted. “Do you mean to tell me that this is the Earl of Hawthorne? A beardless boy who’s barely dropped his balls?!”
“Hold your tongue, dog, unless you mean to belittle his Holiness reputation with your uncultured ignorance,” Percy retorted sharply. “It seems the finances of the Church are indeed in dire straits if they cannot keep their mercenaries properly groomed.”
“Is his Lordship offering to do the job for me?”
The Earl chuckled darkly before replying, “I must decline. With all that growth, I might accidentally slit you open from your throat to your balls—if I can even find them.”
“Is that a threat!”
“Gentlemen!” A loud, commanding voice from the other side of Carina’s carriage quickly caught the attention of the knights and Witch Hunters. The Duchess moved the curtain aside and quickly recognized the Knight Commander the Dowager had summoned to clear her reputation after Crown Princess Eleanora had tried to have her arrested.
Knight Commander Quentin glowered at the men before him before directing a bow in the direction of Carina’s carriage. “Your Grace, welcome back to the Capital. His Majesty has been expecting you.”
“His Majesty will be at the cathedral until nightfall!” snapped the blonde Witch Hunter.
“I did not realize we had a foreign Duke in our presence.” Quentin turned his pale gray eyes on the Witch Hunter with a look of perfected disapproval that appeared to silence half-witch momentarily. “In any case, your Grace is welcome to wait at Peony Palace until Crown Prince Nicholas returns.”
“Thank you, Knight Commander,” Carina replied, waiting briefly for Declan to cover himself fully beneath a blanket before she opened her curtain. “I am gratified to see the gates of our Royal Palace are protected by someone so loyal to our country and King.”
Captain Sloane silently dropped his gaze. Quentin bowed his head in reply and then motioned to the knights guarding the gate, who quickly moved aside. Only the two Witch Hunters remained in their path, but Knight Commander rode around the Duchess’s carriage to face them directly.
“To mirror Captain Arlo’s words. I will not ask you to step aside a second time, Witch Hunters,” Quentin growled quietly. “You would be wise to step aside now.”
The bearded Witch Hunter scoffed, then abruptly drew the long bastard sword strapped to his back. “You’re all a bunch of sniveling pansies! What are you going to do? Kill us? Why don’t you climb down from your high horse and see if you can—”
The blonde Witch Hunter whipped his head to the side as his comrade abruptly fell silent. An ominous scent filled the calm breeze as the Knight tilted his head to the side and offered the pair a cold stare.
“Yes, that’s right,” Quentin murmured with chilling calm. “The Pope isn’t the only one with a half-witch Army.” The barest whistle of metal scraping against metal tickled the heavy silence as the Knight Commander pulled his knight sword free and leveled it between the bearded man’s eyes. “Last chance to run, Witch Hunter.”
The blonde Witch Hunter grabbed his comrade’s arm and shook his head. They both moved cautiously away from the Knight Commander and Kirsi’s carriage and silently disappeared in the direction of the cathedral.
“Captain Sloane!” Quentin’s voice cut through the uncomfortable stillness as the knights behind their flinching officer hastily parted to clear a path through the gate. “If you cannot maintain military discipline in the face of foreign interference, then you shall be relieved of your post and face punitive action instead. Is that understood?”
Declan exhaled softly from beneath his blanket.
‘Is he worried for the Captain?’ Carina quickly closed the curtain to allow him to remove the cover and breath. Percy opened the carriage door a moment later and smiled apologetically as he climbed inside without permission. Declan hastily clambered to an upright position, but the Earl ignored him as he sat down beside the Duchess and knocked on the window between them, signaling for the driver to continue.
“I trust you have a good reason for being here,” Carina observed icily.
“There is an urgent matter I was hoping your Grace might help me with while we wait for the Crown Prince to return,” Percy explained calmly as he crossed his legs and turned to face her. “It concerns an unnatural presence inside Rose Palace that has been tormenting the Crown Princess since your departure.”
The Duchess narrowed her eyes as his meaning sank in. ‘I had almost forgotten about Maura entirely.’ Carina shifted away from him and folded her arms as the carriage pulled into the dark gully of the wolves’ den. “Very well. Let us pay a visit to her Highness and see if I can be of any help.”