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[Rough Draft] Chapter 99 [Part One]: A Shadow of Treachery
The deep, ancient magic prickled painfully beneath Mary’s skin as the Call of the Witch King pierced her ears with a deafening scream. The covenless witch clutched her ears as she lurched upright in bed with a raspy gasp. Beneath the disheveled bangs of her autumn-red hair, the makeshift bunks and hammocks of the hunting lodge came slowly into focus. Mary was not the only witch to have been woken so rudely from her sleep. In the room next door, she could hear one or two venomous curses as the feet of her fellow covenless witches hit the wooden floor with heavy resignation.
The cabin was one of many repurposed lodgings provided by Duchess Krisi to the witches who sought refuge in her territory. While Mary would have preferred to remain close to her husband and son, it went against her upbringing to accept charity for nothing. So, she had enlisted her services to help monitor Bastiallano’s vast borders for any sign of threat or invasion. The august company she kept consisted of twelve witches of varying power and backgrounds, who rotated shifts while covering the western area of Wolf Hemlock Forest.
Eyes still blurred with sleep, Mary fumbled around with her toes until she located her boots beside the corner bedpost. Her bed companion, a lovely blonde air witch by the name of Bri, reached over to snag Mary’s pillow and pressed it against her right ear in protest.
“Make it stop! I just got to sleep,” Bri whined plaintively.
“I’m afraid that won’t help you, dearie,” a senior witch, Agatha, one of three purebloods among their group, called out as she tightened a shawl over her stooped shoulders and nightgown. “And it will only get worse the more you dawdle.”
Bri groaned, tossed the pillows aside, and reached for her tunic draped over the edge of the bed. She sighed in relief as Mary lit up the room with her moonstone wand, allowing the others rousing from their beds to dress with relative ease.
The prickling beneath Mary’s skin was beginning to burn by the time she and Bri emerged on the moonlit porch where Agatha and the other air witches waited.
“This will be the first time for many of you,” Agatha intoned with a faint smile of superiority.
“What’s going on?” demanded Em, the youngest of their group. The plump witch had joined them only yesterday and still wore the garbs of her previous profession as a streetwalker.
“We’ve been summoned,” Stephen, the bald male beside Em, explained stiffly.
“By who?” Em snapped as she scratched the inside of her ears with apparent irritation.
“Who else?”
“It appears the rumors that the Coven’s have chosen a Witch King are true,” Agatha interrupted smoothly. “It would be in our best interest to head to the meeting place as soon as possible.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” snarled the male witch known only as Rat for his rather startling features. “We don’t belong to the Covens!”
“I’m afraid that doesn’t matter,” Agatha retorted with a mocking smile. “Only a witch blessed with Veles power could issue such a summons.”
The witches gathered on the porch murmured anxiously. Mary tucked her moonstone wand into her belt and sighed as she glanced restlessly up at the moon glowing through the sky of indigo clouds. A pair of crows circled idly nearby, drawn by either curiosity or their companion witch.
“But how are we supposed to know where to go?” Bri whispered as she worked her blonde locks into a moderately tidy braid.
“Oh!” Mary gripped the railing beside her and gasped as her vision altered sharply. The hunting lodge appeared in startling clarity from a bird’s eye view as her eyesight switched with one of the crows above them. The landscape blurred as the crow’s gaze swept east.
“First summons?” an elder male witch cackled as Mary’s vision returned. She reached out to steady Bri, who stumbled against her in confusion.
“Well, I believe that covers all pertinent information,” Agatha exclaimed with an excited smirk as she strode down the porch steps. Mary watched bewildered as the elder witch spread the ends of her shawl and flapped them comically behind her. The woolen strands shimmered beneath the moonlight, transforming into onyx feathers as they unfolded into a pair of large black wings that carried Agatha into the air. “I hope to see you all there in one piece!”
“What? But—wait!” Em called out as half the group followed Agatha, transforming their cloaks, drapes, and even long scarves into wings by which to travel east. “How are we supposed to get there if we can’t fly?”
“Who ever heard of an air witch who can’t fly?” Stephen retorted. He beckoned to one of the crows above that swopped down to land on the male witch’s wrist. “Has no one ever told you where the Covens get their crow minions?”
Mary shifted uncomfortably while Em shook her head with an annoyed pout.
“Let’s just say if you don’t want to live the remaining years of your life as a crow or raven, you had better get moving,” Stephen answered with a curled smile as he fed his pet crow two dried pieces of fruit. The crow gobbled his food down and affectionately butted his head against the male witch’s hand before jumping down onto the ground.
Mary, Bri, and Em all watched in fascination as the crow grew in size until its large wings spanned the width of the porch.
“I didn’t know familiars could do that,” Bri whispered as they watched Stephen climb up onto the giant bird.
“That’s not a normal crow,” Mary whispered as the male witch turned to regard them inquisitively.
“Well, if any of you need a ride?”
“Yes, please!” Em declared and stepped forward promptly to extend her hand expectantly. Stephen sighed but assisted her up behind him with minimal effort before turning to Bri and Mary. “There’s room for one more.”
Bri glanced from the crow to Mary and smiled hesitantly. “I’m not sure I can make it that distance on my own.”
“Go on then,” Mary urged.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll see you there,” Mary replied with a confident nod and nudge towards the crow. She waved after the trio as the giant crow launched itself towards the skyline, its massive wings smothering the tall grass as it climbed and grazed its dark talons against the hemlock trees before slowly shrinking against the horizon.
As the last witch to leave the hunting lodge, Mary secured the cabin door with a spell, then summoned the remaining crow to carry a message north to Bastiallano Fortress. There was no telling why the Witch King had called them or when they would return, so it seemed only fitting to inform the Duchess of the night’s events—even if that meant they might be accused of desertion.
Mary wrapped a scarf around her autumn-red hair and face, leaving only her sky-blue eyes exposed as she stepped back into the moonlight. She pulled her hood over her head and jogged lightly into the tall grass, each step gaining speed until the hem of her dress billowed above the field as the soles of her boots lightly touched the waving grass below. Behind her scarf, Mary’s smile grew as her magic carried her towards the indigo clouds that adorned the silent setting moon.
***
As Agatha had predicted, the painful pressure in Mary’s ears and beneath her skin eased the moment she began her journey. Soon enough, it was nothing more than a nudging pull that guided her east. It was a lonely yet liberating feeling to fly through the mist of clouds. Now and then, she would dip below the gloom to check the landscape below and verify her general location. Occasionally she used the opportunity to dry out her garments that grew drenched from the moisture trapped within the clouds.
‘Not the most comfortable means of travel, but better safe than sorry.’
It had been a long time since Mary had last traveled at such altitude over such a long distance. Years of living under the radar among mortals had taught her to err on the side of caution and avoid using her magic unless absolutely necessary.
As she glided down through the veil of clouds to dry out her close once more, Mary took in the flickering torches of a solitary tower that marked the border the end of Bastiallano’s territory. The silver uniform of the Duchess’s knights gleamed beneath the moonlight like tiny figurines. Mary counted two at the top of the tower and four at its base. The distant cry of a predator pulled her gaze to where a pair of silver hawks circled the forest nearby. Not wanting to alarm the birds, she glided back up into the clouds to continue her journey.
‘I suppose I should mention some sort of barrier magic at our next meeting,’ Mary mused as she followed the tugging magic. ‘Fortunately, neither the Pope nor his witch hunters can fly.’
The distant sound of wings tugged at Mary’s ears. She turned, searching the clouds behind her worriedly, hoping that neither of the silver hawks had followed her. The sound grew steadily closer, and a familiar squawk greeted her as the dark body of a crow materialized in the vapor beside her.
“Well, hello there,” Mary responded with a small sigh of relief as she examined the bird’s talons for markers. “What are you after?”
The crow squawked again, sounding a bit more frantic as it spun below her, disappearing beneath the clouds before returning, this time with friends. The trio of birds took turns flapping their wings near Mary’s face and chest as they all but threw themselves in her way.
“Wait, no—stop! I don’t speak bird! Will you please stop!” She flinched as one of the crows tugged at the hem of her dress, its talons tearing through her stocking and scratching her skin. “Oww! Stop it! That is enough!”
Mary summoned the wind around her with an angry breath and shook off the birds with a strong gust. Her vindictive smile wilted as they returned, persistently, this time maintaining a respectful distance. “Veles’s breath, what do you want?”
The crows looked at one another in silent desperation, then formed a small spiral between the clouds and the forest below.
“You want me—to go down there?” Mary raised an eyebrow warily.
The closest crow squawked in reply, sounding an odd mix of frustrated and relieved.
“Never listen to a crow, Mary.” The covenless witch sighed as she hovered in the air, inwardly debating her choices. “Augh, I’m going to regret this. Let’s just take a quick look.” She glanced east, then threw the crow waiting beside her a warning glare. “If this is some sort of trap or prank, I’ll be making a new pillow out of all of you.”
***
The crows appeared to take Mary’s threat seriously. They guided her down through the gaps in the trees, choosing a path wide enough to avoid any scrapes or injuries. The covenless witch loosened the knot of her scarf as she touched the forest floor and took in a cautious sniff. A worrisome foul odor of decay, rot, and blood drifted through the quiet, dark forest, making her ache for the openness of the sky above.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Mary growled as she loosened the rune wand tide to her belt and illuminated the moonstone affixed to the middle. “You had better have a good reason for bringing me anywhere near one of them.”
Two of the crows fluttered away without a backward glance, leaving Mary and the most vocal of the group to gaze warily at each other. The brave bird bobbed its head almost apologetically before hopping to a nearby branch, where it waited and watched as if verifying that she would follow. Mary was already seriously rethinking her decision when the startling cry of a human child pierced through the distant forest, erasing all hesitation as she realized the crow’s true purpose.
Familiars, crows in particular, were incredibly protective of witch children.
‘But seriously, what are fledglings doing out in the forest this late?’
Mary pushed the moonstone to full power, illuminating the forest around her in a pale blue glow as she chased after the crow who flew low to the ground before her. The foul scent grew stronger as she closed in the desperate cries of more than one child. Strong as she was, the covenless pureblood’s heart ran cold at the sight of the lumbering creature that towered between the trees ahead of her.
The behemoth possessed the body of a twisted oak, with gnarled root-like limbs and a matted head of ferns and grass layered around the giant skull of a bear adorned by elk horns. The remnant’s red eyes glowed as it leaned forward, searching, its massive arms flailing about, attacking something low to the ground.
The child’s scream ripped Mary from her trance as she dipped behind the nearest tree and watched as the crows threw themselves heedlessly at the corrupted monstrosity.
“Sarah!”
Mary’s gaze swept to where a tall, willowing boy tumbled over an embankment, clutching his left shoulder.
“Run, David!” A girl’s voice answered as two more figures emerged to collapse beside him.
The smaller of the two, a stocky boy with an eyepatch, pulled the girl to her feet, supporting her on her left side where she limped slightly.
“What is that thing?” Sarah panted, straining to force the words out.
“Does it matter? The crows are back. We have to make a run for it!” The boy with the eye patch pushed her towards their companion. “Take her, David. I’ll—help the crows buy you some time.”
“Jesse, don’t be daft! You can’t fight that thing!”
“Get down, both of you!” David shouted as one of the crows flew overhead with a warning squawk. The older boy grabbed the distracted pair and threw all three of them down the embankment, narrowly avoiding the dangerous swing of the enraged remnant’s arms.
They rolled to a stop at the covenless witch’s feet. Mary shook her head, half-relieved they were still in one piece, and annoyed that her already complicated night had now gained unexpected baggage.
“What in Vele’s breath is going on here?”
“Who are you?” Jesse replied, his one eye narrowing suspiciously as he rushed to his feet and moved defensively between Mary and Sarah.
“Just the witch your crow friends dragged down here to help you,” Mary muttered as she pushed him aside and knelt to examine the girl’s foot. “That’s a bad sprain. You, David, was it, think you can manage to carry her?”
“I can do it!” Jesse protested as he grabbed Mary’s wrist. She twisted free, caught his collar, yanked him in close for a quick sniff, then shoved him back with a snort.
“You’re not a fledgling. What’s an earthworm doing this deep in Lafeara?”
Even in the dark the boy’s ears turned red as his small hands tightened into fists.
“Jess is our friend,” Sarah intervened quickly. “He insisted on coming along to keep us safe.”
“Here, Sarah,” David grunted as he knelt beside the girl to offer his back. “Let’s just focus on getting away from that creature.”
“But your shoulder—”
“I can manage. Besides, we’re in Jesse’s element. Best to keep his hands free should we run into any more danger.”
The earth witch in question appeared to realize the logic of David’s reasoning and helped Sarah climb onto his back.
“Good,” Mary muttered as she wrapped her hands around the dimmed moonstone wand, uttering a tracking spell that would allow her to recover it and the children later. “Jesse, I’m entrusting this to you.” The earthworm’s single brown eye lit up with wonder as he accepted the glowing moonstone. “The crows will guide you to safety while I deal with the remnant.”
“T-that’s a remnant?” Sarah whispered, somehow managing to turn a few shades paler.
“What else would it be,” Mary muttered as she cast a quick spell to lighten David’s load. “I’ll be back for my wand, so don’t lose it, and Veles help you if you break it.”
“Alright, alright, I got it,” Jesse replied sullenly, flinching as a nearby pine tree toppled over beneath the remnant wrath.
“Will you be alright?” David said worriedly as Sarah buried her head in his neck.
‘He reminds me of my little Joel.’ Mary patted his cheek reassuringly, then nodded sternly after Jesse. “Keep moving. The crows will join you shortly. And no matter what you hear, Jesse—David, do not stop.”
The boys swallowed, nodded, and hurried off towards the east.
The covenless witch sighed as she turned to face the behemoth flailing about amongst the trees before her. Her cold fingers moved beneath the scarf to where her wedding locket lay, a portrait of her husband and a lock of her son’s hair tucked safely inside.
“Unfortunate soul, whoever you were, you have languished here long enough.” Mary pulled the scarf free and drank in the cold night air around her as the crows slowed their assault, sensing the shift in magic around them. “You’ve traveled too close to the borders of Bastalliano for me to turn a blind eye.” The breeze lifted both arms at the pureblood’s side as the wind collected beneath her will, lifting her feet off the ground.
With the crows less persistent in their distraction, the remnant’s red eyes finally turned in her direction. It hesitated for only a moment, then thundered towards her. The bear’s skull opened to emit a savage, demonic roar.
“ᚷᛁᚠᛏ ᛟᚠ ᛚᛁᚠᛖ, ᛒᚱᛖᚦ ᛟᚠ ᛊᛟᚱᚱᛟᚹ.” At Mary’s feet, a small tail of wind sprouted from the ground and grew in size until a howling funnel of air, dirt, and leaves obscured the creature from her sight. “ᛗᚨᛊᛏᛖᚱ ᛟᚠ ᛊᛏᛟᚱᛗᛊ, ᛁᛟᚢᚱ ᛊᛏᚱᛖᛜᚦ ᛁ ᛒᛟᚱᚱᛟᚹ.”
[Gift of life, breath of sorrow. Master of storms, your strength I borrow.]
The remnant lunged forward, heedless of the danger or perhaps determined to end the threat quickly. Mary’s tightly wound serpent of violent wind ripped through the corrupted creature’s arm on impact, hurtling the behemoth into the trees behind it.
The pureblood’s blue eyes shimmered in the shadow of her storm as she fueled the twisting funnel of wind with her magic. It swelled in size and bent at her will, striking at the heart of the remnant and tearing through the dead oak torso as the cursed creature flailed in agony. The behemoth pulled free and rolled away, leaving half of its trunk behind as it crouched on its three remaining limbs and barreled toward her.
“Just die, damn you!” Mary screamed as she flexed her grip, hurtling the wind serpent after the lumbering monstrosity closing in at a frightening speed.
Something deep ripped through the forest floor between them, throwing the pureblood off balance. Mary swore as she tumbled backward, her control of the violet wind evaporating as the funnel thinned into a small twisting rope. Alarmed by the unexpected attack, she rolled away, desperate to keep as much distance between herself and the rabid fangs of the bear skull that snapped inches away from her feet before lurching to a sudden halt.
More shaken than she cared to admit, Mary pushed back the tangled strands of her autumn-red hair to take in the bizarre sight before her. At first glance, it appeared three large roots had impaled themselves through the remnant. The torn and dismembered behemoth thrashed futilely in the air as a fourth and sixth root emerged from the soil and tightened around the behemoth’s body.
Only they weren’t roots—but terrifyingly large, hairy limbs of a giant arachnid. Eight glowing ghostly white orbs emerged through the settling dust to stare into the frozen witch’s soul. Mary jerked her gaze away from the creature’s nightmarish mouth and willed her limbs to move, to flee from the predator before her.
“Don’t!” A low, female voice whispered from somewhere in the trees behind her. “Stay perfectly still. It’s not after you.”
“What? How do you know that?” Mary whined through clenched teeth.
“They are Venatores, hunters from the underworld,” the strangely soothing voice answered. “It came for the remnant’s soul.”
Mary didn’t answer, or rather couldn’t, as the horrifying sound of the giant arachnid feasting on the shrieking remnant sent her cowering to the ground. ‘The remnant was bad enough—but how do I fight something I’ve only heard mentioned in legends?’
The ground beneath her stiff fingers trembled and shifted. Mary summoned what little courage remained and lifted her gaze just high enough to watch as the Venatores dragged the quivering remnant below ground. A few heart-thudding moments later and the forest floor was still once more. Only the scarred trees, a few rotten pieces of bark, and a broken antler left any trace of the passing violence.
Mary tried to stand, but her legs gave out quickly, so she sat on her side and brushed the leaves and dirt from her cloak and dress as if that would chase the cobwebs of fear away. She jerked in alarm when a hand dropped gently onto her shoulder, then turned to take in the strange foreign woman with copper-blonde curls.
“That was brave of you. Helping those children.”
“Of course.” Mary blinked at the woman’s smile and focused on the pale bandages that completely obscured her eyes. “You—” she reached forward hesitantly to wave her hand before the woman’s face, “—how?”
The woman chuckled dryly as she straightened and extended a hand to the confused witch. Mary accepted it hesitantly and yelped in surprise as she pulled upright with such force that she collided with the woman’s shoulder. Her eyes narrowed at the unmistakable scent, and she pulled away to study the foreigner curiously.
‘Two earth witches in one day.’
“Thank you for your assistance back there.” Mary quickly shook her head, unable to shake the piercing feeling of being watched. “I should be on my way before those children stumble into further trouble.”
“You’re headed to the witch gathering in the east?” the blind witch asked casually as she strode past the pure blood.
Mary stiffened and turned to regard the stranger, baffled. “How could you possibly—”
“I wish you and the children a safe journey,” the blind witch interrupted as she turned her sightless gaze to the moonlit sky above them. “The night is long and dark and full of treachery.”
Mary clenched her dirt-filled nails against her dress and watched the bizarre woman stroll leisurely across the ground where the giant arachnid and remnant had disappeared only moments before. The earth witch soon disappeared from view as the uncomfortable pull of the Witch King’s summons returned and forced Mary to resume her journey—picking up a few stray fledglings and an earthworm along the way.