other witch - complete series, page 47
‘I’m sorry,’ I managed to say as he disappeared in a puff of dust and ash.
I tried to tell myself that my father had killed him, not me, but the athame in my hands was coated in thick red blood. It dripped towards my hands, staining them like the stain that was growing on my soul.
Chapter 5
I heard footsteps before I saw Mack. Luckily, I was prepared. I had already swept the dusty remains of the vampyr into the toilet bucket with my bare hands. He had exploded into ash right in front of me and, though I’d done my best to brush him off, I had ash marks across my clothes, hands and face. The struggle had also torn my skirt and my blouse and I’d also ripped the skirt in my haste to free the athame.
I had no doubt that I looked even more neglected than I felt. My discomposure wasn’t far from the truth, but now it was visible to the world. So often in life we keep our wounds invisible, but that wouldn’t do me any good today. I needed the masses on my side, so I would let some vulnerability show. Not that I had a whole lot of choice.
Mack either didn’t care about my unkempt appearance or he didn’t notice. My money was on the former; he was ex-army and he was an observant man. ‘Move,’ he grunted as he clanged the cell door open. His eyes swept over me and his jaw tightened but he said nothing. If he could tell I’d battled and killed a vampyr, would that make him think I was more evil or less?
I stood. ‘Can I get some food and water?’ Thanks to Kass’s visit, I didn’t particularly need either, though a bit of H2O is always welcome. Hydration is important. What I wanted was a refusal from him that I could use later.
‘No. Move,’ he growled.
Bingo. ‘Charming,’ I muttered as I made my way out of the cell. Once again he grabbed my upper arm, yanking me forcefully. I winced as he pressed against the bruises he’d made yesterday. ‘You’re such a gentleman,’ I said sarcastically.
Perhaps riling your jailor wasn’t wise, but no one has ever accused me of being wise.
‘You’re no lady,’ he bit back.
He continued to drag me forwards. I was surprised when he pulled me not towards the Council’s chambers, as I’d expected, but to the witches’ hall. A new golem was standing on the door. He was as hulking as Benji, but he didn’t smile as he caught sight of me.
‘Hello,’ I greeted him curiously. ‘I’m Amber DeLea. What’s your name?’
‘David Abrams,’ he responded shortly.
‘Are you newly awakened?’ I pried, though I already knew the answer.
‘Yes – since you stole the last golem.’ His tone was accusing. Yeesh, he’d been awake a few days and he’d already decided I was persona non grata.
‘I didn’t steal him. Benji is my friend.’
David’s eyebrows rose. ‘You’re friends – with a golem?’ His tone was incredulous.
‘Yes, why shouldn’t I be?’
Surprise danced across his features as he looked at me afresh. He parted his lips to speak but Mack got there first. ‘Abrams,’ he interrupted us with a scowl. ‘Announce us.’ He glared. ‘Now.’
David’s eyes flashed red then back to brown. ‘All clear,’ he confirmed. As he pushed open the door behind him, he slid me a sideways glance and I smiled encouragingly. He cleared his throat. ‘Announcing the arrival of the witch, Coven Mother, Rune Mistress and Potion Mistress Amber DeLea.’
His voice boomed into the hall and it fell gratifyingly silent. Maybe David had warmed to me just a little, because it was unusual to announce a prisoner’s full titles like that. My smile widened and he gave me a small nod in return.
I looked into the hall and let my jaw drop as if I were surprised. Truthfully, I was a little. Despite my machinations, I hadn’t been sure my allies would be able to pull off my plan but it looked like they had.
The hall was crammed to the rafters. It normally had a capacity of two to three hundred, but it was so packed that there seemed to be even more. I had no idea how Frogmatch had done it, but he’d brought in witches from all over the country. No matter what I’d done for the imp, the scales had swung back in his favour. I owed him.
The Council were sitting on a raised dais. I was pleased to see that they all had their cowls down – and that they all looked a little unnerved by the number of witches crammed into the room.
Mack continued to drag me forward. I let my body droop and my feet slow a little, making him drag me all the more viciously.
I caught sight of Jeb, Ethan and Jacob across the hall. What on earth were they doing here? That wasn’t part of the plan! Who was running my damned Coven in their absence? Then I saw more of my Coven: Melrose, Venice, John. Half of them were here. Had Frogmatch cajoled them in the early hours of the morning, or had they come in response to my Coven-wide email. Were they here to support me or to condemn me? I hoped the former, but my self-doubt whispered the latter.
Angry mutterings sprang up as the crowd took in my tousled hair and clothing and the way in which Mack was manhandling me. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ Willow asked loudly. ‘Why does Amber look like a prisoner? Why on earth is she wearing magic-cancelling cuffs?’
Tristan frowned. ‘She killed Hilary. She is dangerous.’ Crikey, nothing like being innocent until being proven guilty, hey?
‘She killed a black witch!’ Willow countered.
‘So she says!’ Tristan batted back.
‘We have already heard from quite a few other witnesses this morning who also say so!’ Willow responded sharply.
‘DeLea’s driver and bodyguard is bound to support her,’ Tristan bickered. ‘He didn’t see the killing blow, and Rosemary didn’t see anything directly either. Nor did Benjamin Cohen, since he had been powered down by her hand.’ He stabbed his finger at me.
‘Even so, all three were on the chair of truth and all three swore that Hilary confessed to being a black witch. Unless you’re suggesting that they could somehow circumvent my runes?’ Willow glared as she challenged him.
Tristan backed down a little; even he wasn’t foolish enough to suggest her runes weren’t effective. ‘I’m saying those witnesses could be mistaken but still believe they were speaking the truth.’
I was suddenly quite pleased not to be a part of the Council. Frankly, this sniping in front of everyone was embarrassing.
Jasper clearly agreed. ‘Enough!’ he called. ‘Bring Miss DeLea to the chair and let the questioning commence.’
Mack continued to haul me forward before depositing me on a chair that was placed on a pentagram. The pentagram was unconcealed and filled with truth-compulsion runes. Lovely: I was about to spill my guts about anything they asked me. I hoped they wouldn’t ask too many questions and that I didn’t incriminate myself with my answers. I had to think carefully about my responses; I would need to keep a level head under the choking weight of the truth runes.
Easy.
‘I’ll go first,’ Bastion said loudly as he strode onto the hall’s floor. He lifted me effortlessly out of the chair and sat down on it instead.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked out of the side of my mouth.
‘Saving you,’ he murmured. He inhaled my scent. ‘You smell of vampyr, Bambi. Are you okay? I felt your fear.’ His voice was clipped and taut with anger; he hated that he hadn’t been there to save me during the night, though he was keen to remedy that now.
I hadn’t needed him to save me last night because my father was controlling the vampyr like a puppet on a string and he had stuffed his marionette onto my blade. I couldn’t have avoided killing him if I’d tried. My father had wanted the pugnacious vampyr to die and he’d used me to do it.
‘I’m okay,’ I reassured Bastion. ‘What’s your plan?’
He didn’t answer directly. ‘You have too many secrets to be questioned on this chair. Keep your game face on.’
I had no game face, but I did my best to summon – and maintain – my haughtiest expression.
Tristan was glowering at Bastion. ‘You have not yet been summoned to give evidence. You—’
‘Give it a rest, Tristan,’ Beatrice snapped. ‘Let the griffin say his piece and then we can hear from DeLea, if necessary.’ When Beatrice had been attacked and injured by a black witch masquerading as Felix, I had healed her injuries. It seemed she was warmly disposed towards me, which was a nice surprise because she’d always struck me as wholly glacial before this.
Tristan subsided and sat back sulkily in his chair. Bastion calmly and dispassionately related the events that had led to Hilary’s death: the fake text that said Abigay had confiscated dark artefacts in her rooms and Hilary subsequently tearing the place apart to look for them. Then Bastion explained that Hilary had confessed to being a necromancer and that she had summoned and controlled three vampyrs in front of him.
The hall was completely silent as the witches hung on his every word so silently you could have heard a rune stone drop. I held on to my haughty expression and waited for the punchline. To be honest, I had no idea where he was going with this because with the next few sentences he would say that I had killed Hilary. Regardless of his best efforts, once he uttered those words I would be questioned on that chair.
Bastion looked Tristan squarely in the eyes. ‘Hilary came to attack me. She drew a poisoned athame and she stabbed me with it. I killed her.’
I blinked. No way! There was no way he should have been able to say that whilst sitting on so many truth runes. He hadn’t killed her, I had. It took a huge amount of effort for me to remain impassive.
Tristan faltered. ‘You killed her?’
‘I killed her,’ Bastion lied firmly. ‘I sliced open her throat.’
What. The. Heck.
Chapter 6
‘I have footage,’ Bastion continued.
‘Regretfully,’ Tristan started with a sneer, ‘the footage Miss DeLea supplied was corrupted.’
Bastion smiled, though there was nothing friendly about it. ‘Luckily I had several copies made. Just in case of any regrettable incompetence.’ The insult was laid out there, spat at Tristan. The witch flushed but said nothing.
That was Benji’s cue. He rolled in a huge TV and placed it on the dais so that everyone crowding into the hall could see it. He gave me a grin and a thumbs-up, which I couldn’t help returning, then he turned on the TV and pressed a few buttons. The footage started rolling.
‘And besides,’ I said pointedly, ‘it’s the Crone position that you covet, isn’t it?’
Hilary’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t especially like your tone. What are you implying, Amber?’
‘I’m not implying anything. I’m saying you want to be the next Crone, don’t you?’
‘What gave me away?’ Hilary asked calmly, as her eyes leached to black.
The whole room was engrossed as our conversation reached boiling point.
‘Benji is worth his weight in gold,’ I said.
‘Oh, he is,’ she agreed. ‘To the right person. Luckily, that person is me. His obedience to the Council is absolute.’ She fixed her eyes on Benji, expression triumphant. ‘Benji, kill Bastion.’
The footage stopped and I tried to keep the frown off my face. It had been expertly spliced to ensure there was no mention of the black Coven at any point – no need to start mass hysteria – but it ended before it showed who had killed Hilary.
Bastion spoke into the shocked silence. ‘As you can see, she confessed to killing the Crone.’
Suddenly sound roared around the room as hundreds of voices started talking at once.
‘She killed the Crone!’
‘Hilary Mitchell! A black witch!’
‘She was always a bitch.’
‘Silence!’ Tristan roared. The witches paid him no attention; they were too busy being shocked and gossiping at what had been revealed. I heard the word ‘necromancer’; No one had missed the way Hilary’s eyes had leached to black.
Frogmatch had done a great job sourcing a huge TV that could be wheeled in because now everyone in the room had seen the footage and it was undeniable. This wasn’t something Tristan could hush up; there were far too many witnesses. Tristan couldn’t do anything but dismiss the charges against me.
I knew he wouldn’t bring them against Bastion: firstly, he wouldn’t dare, and secondly, the drums had beaten out over Calton Hill declaring war on the Crone’s killer. Hilary had confessed and the sentence for killing a Crone was death. Bastion had said he had acted as judge, jury and executioner. There would be no reprisals.
It was with a decidedly sour look on his face that Tristan announced, ‘The charges against Amber DeLea are dismissed.’
‘Wait!’ Seren cried. ‘I have more charges to bring!’
Chapter 7
‘This is highly irregular.’ Beatrice glowered at Seren. ‘All charges must be brought to the Council and discussed before they are ratified and levelled at the accused. You have not carried out due process.’
‘We’ve all heard of Ellie Tron, the witch that heals without charging!’ Seren cried, ‘It’s her! It’s Amber!’
Kass stood. ‘This whole thing has been nothing more than a witch hunt!’ We rarely used that emotionally charged term, and there were audible gasps around the room.
My friend was new and she risked much by openly defying the other members of the Council so early in her career. She didn’t care. She continued. ‘A campaign is being waged to discredit an honourable witch. Amber DeLea has been weeding out black witches, so it seems to me that anyone levelling charges against her needs to be closely examined. Whether intentionally or not, you are serving the black witches with this continued campaign of hatred and misinformation.’
‘Me?’ Seren squawked. ‘I’m not a black witch! I’m telling you, she’s Ellie Tron.’ She pointed at me accusingly. I kept my face as blank as possible.
Kass and Bastion had tried, but the excrement was going to hit the fan. Once I was on that runed chair…
Melrose and Venice moved closer to me in a silent show of support that warmed my heart. Things had been rocky between Melrose and me ever since I had sequestered Meredith and Ria, but there was no hostility now.
I met her eyes. I don’t know what she saw in mine but she nodded once, decisively, then turned to Venice. ‘Have you ever seen the movie Spartacus?’
Venice’s eyes went wide. ‘Yes! Great idea.’ She stood. ‘I’m Spartacus!’ she announced loudly to the hall.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Melrose muttered. She stood. ‘I’m Ellie Tron!’
On the other side of the room, Jeb stood. ‘I’m Ellie Tron!’ he declared.
Isadora Moonspell stood, meeting my eyes as she cried, ‘I’m Ellie Tron!’
John Melton stood. ‘I’m Ellie Tron!’ He grinned at me across the room.
And that was it. Suddenly twenty – thirty – fifty witches were on their feet declaring they were Ellie Tron. I struggled not to react. My game face was a thing of the past as the whole room roared the name of my alter ego while the Council gaped.
Jasper held up a hand and slowly the clamouring ceased. Into the silence, still sitting on a chair of truth runes, Bastion spoke. ‘I’m Ellie Tron.’
There was a collective gasp of shock. No one had expected that, least of all me. Did Bastion have some sort of immunity to truth runes? But that was unheard of…
He elaborated. ‘I’m an observant man and over the centuries I’ve learned a great deal about runing. It is easy to acquire the right potions for the right price, and I am a wealthy man. I have killed hundreds in my life, thousands even. I am keen to atone for the blood on my hands.’
Though all he was saying was true, he was wordsmithing for all he was worth. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d said he was Ellie Tron. How had he done that while under the power of the truth runes? I had never seen anyone lie under so many of them. It shouldn’t be possible. Yet here he was, lying – because I was Ellie Tron.
‘But…’ Seren spluttered. ‘You’re not a witch!’
Bastion shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Non-witches can use runes and potions as much as a witch can. Of course the spell-work is nowhere near as effective but it can work. I am a griffin. Your “charging for healing” policy does not apply to me.’
The stunned silence in the room was deafening until Kass broke it. ‘All in favour of dropping the charges against Amber DeLea?’
I heard a handful of muttered ‘ayes’.
‘I want your word that the charges levelled here today against Amber will never be repeated,’ Bastion continued. ‘Someone is trying to smear her good name and that stops now.’
‘I agree,’ Kass said quickly. ‘And I also agree that no charges will be levelled against you, Bastion, as you are not under purview of our laws. Is the Council in agreement?’
There was another round of ‘ayes’.
‘Release Miss DeLea!’ Kass called.
Bastion stood up and left the sphere of the truth runes. Before he could reach me, Mack stepped forward, his eyes blazing with hatred. The moment hummed with tension and I wondered for a moment if he was planning to use the IR against me. Instead he released me from my cuffs with a malevolent glare.
Magic returned to me with such force that I swayed on my feet. Bastion was there, wrapping a steadying arm around my waist. ‘Easy, Bambi,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve got you.’
I forced myself to nod, to swallow down the hundred questions swirling in my brain. He’d done it; he’d gotten me off all the charges and I hadn’t even been questioned with the truth runes. The burning question was … how?
Chapter 8
I gave Benji another hug. He had decided that he wanted to stay in Edinburgh to teach David the ropes; I suspected that he didn’t want David to feel as lonely as he had done. It was incredibly kind so, although I’d miss him, I didn’t argue with his decision. Benji deserved the chance to make up his own mind, be the master of his fate – as much as he could be with the Council’s claws dug firmly into his soul.
