other witch - complete series, page 61
The Crone was a position for life. With the gargantuan task of stopping the dark witches, I hoped that mine would last for more than a hot minute.
Chapter 46
The councillors crowded around me, offering congratulations. Seren was decidedly sulky.
‘Why aren’t the men here?’ I asked, genuinely baffled. Why would they willingly miss the Goddess’s presence? A ceremony like this happened once in a lifetime; to be on the Council and to choose to miss it was unthinkable.
Seren batted her eyelashes at me. ‘It was a moment of feminine power.’ Her tone said ‘duh’. ‘They didn’t want to intrude.’
‘Who suggested they did not intrude?’ I probed.
‘Tristan,’ Seren pouted. ‘Why?’
Because I could only think of only one reason a witch would want to avoid the Goddess and that was because they’d been a very naughty boy.
I didn’t answer her question. I was the Crone now, a leader, so I led. We were in the midst of chaos and the witches needed order. I would give them that.
‘Take care of Willow – she will need to rest for a number of days. I must leave. The Goddess has laid a task upon me and I must get to it. I will be using the golems. Please let my appointment be known throughout the dead city and Coven-wide. Ready the list of suspects for my perusal and lock down the dead city. No one comes in or out until further notice.’ I gave them a brisk nod, turned on my kitten heels and left.
I congratulated myself on my semi-dramatic exit as we went back through the underground passageways. Bastion followed me silently; I sensed no surprise in him at my appointment.
I checked to be sure we had some privacy. Benji and David were a few steps behind us, so I felt able to whisper, ‘Why aren’t you freaking out?’
Bastion smiled. ‘Do you remember Melva’s prophecy? The witch, the Crone, her destiny clear, black witches tremble when she’s near. With heart and rune, she’ll persevere, a hunt for justice, she’ll have no peer. But lurking deep within the night, the Coven’s head, her Father’s might. A reckoning awaits in close sight, a clash of dark and radiant light.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You’re the Crone. You were always going to be the Crone. And now you’re a huntress.’ The pride in his voice made my heart swell. ‘We’re going to find black witches and kick their asses.’
I was surprised by how much joy and relief his use of ‘we’ brought me. The task laid on me seemed overwhelming but with Bastion by my side anything seemed possible. I might be the huntress, but he was my weapon.
I turned to Benji and David. ‘The Goddess said that Frogmatch doesn’t have much time. The black witches have him and we need to locate him – now. I can’t run through all of the secret chambers and hidden rooms under the city—’
‘—but we can,’ Benji interrupted, eyes gleaming at the prospect of helping.
‘You can move through the walls and locate Frogmatch without his captor being any the wiser.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Tristan is my chief suspect. He was the one who excused all of the men from meeting the Goddess, and it was his bodyguard, Mack, who arrested me and threw me in the dungeons. Tristan has been trying to discredit me because for some reason he sees me as a threat, so start your search in his chambers. Check for hidden rooms. Come back here when you locate Frogmatch.’
The two men sank into the walls. The order had slipped out brusquely, which I hadn’t intended, but the Goddess’s warning had made fear curl in my gut and I never dealt well with fear.
I waited anxiously but Bastion was as calm as ever, an oasis of Zen tranquillity. It was actually quite annoying. At my slightly accusing look, he spoke up. ‘Do not underestimate the imp. He’ll be fine. Why do you think imps are so often linked to Satan?’
‘Because of the red skin and the forked tail?’ And the huge claws he’d grown into, and the smell of brimstone?
He shook his head. ‘Because, as we saw, they can be dangerous little buggers. The only reason the vampyrs got the imps’ tails was because they had enchanted them. Don’t write Frogmatch off yet.’
‘I haven’t, but the Goddess said he doesn’t have much time.’
He shrugged. ‘She wants us to prioritise him, which we’re doing. Worrying solves nothing, Amber.’
I glared. ‘Not all of us are stone cold.’ As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt his hurt. ‘I’m sorry!’ I blurted out, stepping closer to him. ‘I didn’t mean it. You’re not cold, not at all. You’re caring and kind and wonderful. I’m just worried and I don’t handle it well. I’m sorry.’
He studied me and the sting of hurt faded. ‘Okay. I didn’t mean to demean your worrying, just to alleviate it.’
‘I know.’ I stepped forward and hugged him, then stood on tiptoe and gave him a soft kiss. ‘Hey,’ I said brightly. ‘Did we just have our first fight? Because that wasn’t so bad!’
He smiled and kissed me on the tip of my nose. ‘You’re so cute.’
‘I am not cute. Take it back.’
He grinned at me. ‘Second fight. We’re barrelling through them.’
‘Don’t be so hasty or we’ll miss out on make-up sex,’ I quipped.
Bastion smirked. ‘We don’t want to miss that.’ He walked over to Benji’s bookcase and pulled a book out. ‘This one looks like one of yours,’ he commented, passing me the paranormal romance book, Dry-ad Humping. I read the blurb with interest, it was a slow-burn romance between a dryad and her loyal gardener.
‘It’s not an enemies to lovers romance,’ I teased Bastion lightly.
‘Best put it back then,’ he replied with a wink. ‘As we know, the best romances are enemies to lovers.’
I put the book down just as Benji burst from the wall. ‘We’ve found him!’ he said urgently. ‘In a room off Tristan’s chambers, just like you thought. I can feel the wards but I couldn’t pass through them.’
‘Take us there!’ I snapped.
David had stepped out, too. He took hold of Bastion whilst Benji took me, and we all sank back into the wall. I fought a shard of fear; Goddess, how I hated travelling like this.
We popped out into a room about twenty seconds later. Twenty long seconds. I shuddered as I sucked in a fresh breath then pulled myself together. We didn’t have time for me to be a diva.
I looked around. We were in Tristan’s lounge, all polished wooden floors and lush fabrics and pillows. It didn’t look like an evil den, but appearances can be deceptive. I touched the walls and used my magic to run through the wards on them. As a reception room, these had wards against vampyrs and a few other helpful ones but nothing sinister.
But I could also see a hidden layer of runes that were not activated – and those were as sinister as hell. Once they lit up, no one would be walking in or out; Tristan could lock this room down like a jail cell. But for now they remained inert. In his arrogance, hiding behind his position as a Council member, he had assumed he was safe.
There was another door, warded to high heaven. I suspected it opened into an office that Tristan used as a dark ritual space.
I touched the wall and the layers of runes lit up as I ran my magic through them. At first glance it looked like they were really heavy-duty but, as I lifted the layers, I spied black runes underneath. Bad things would happen to people who breached those.
I licked my lips. I could start to paint ezro but we’d be here forever. I’d have to cancel them, rune by rune, layer by layer. It would take so long and the Goddess’s warning had felt urgent.
I didn’t know what to do. In desperation, I reached up and clasped my new necklace. ‘Sisters, I need help. How do I get through the wards?’
‘Blood,’ came the instant answer from a chorus of voices. ‘Use the griffin’s blood. He can coax down even the black wards with his blood.’
I turned to Bastion, astonishment on my face. ‘You can coax wards?’
Chapter 47
My mouth was still open with shock so I clacked it shut. ‘How is that possible?’ Wards aren’t sentient.
No wonder he was the pre-eminent assassin in the world; not even our best wards could hope to keep him out. All those times when I’d strengthened my wards against him, they’d been as ineffectual as a chocolate fireguard.
Bastion cleared his throat. ‘A witch uses her magic to draw runes. Each rune could have dozens of uses but it is the witch’s intent that dictates how it is used.’
‘I know that,’ I said impatiently. ‘I’m a rune master!’ He was teaching me to suck eggs.
He gave me a chastening look that I ignored. ‘If you’d let me continue…’
I gestured grandly to indicate that the floor was his, then folded my arms and tapped my toes. I managed to restrain the audible huff that wanted to slide out, but only just.
‘In giving their intent, the witch gives her magic to the runes and temporarily gives them a purpose. It’s not enough to call them sentient but enough that I can disrupt them.’
‘Surely the runes don’t have the intention to do anything other than what they are wrought to do? You can’t coax them to fail.’
‘All wards fail – it is a constant cycle. That’s why you witches are always having to repaint them. My magic disrupts the link between the rune and their maker, so they fail sooner than they would do otherwise.’
Something connected in my brain. ‘Hold on! You once kicked down a door hidden and warded with black runes. You triggered a black-witch’s curse and you nearly got killed. Why didn’t you just coax them down?’
Embarrassment flooded me – Bastion’s mortification, not my own. He mumbled something I didn’t catch. ‘What? Speak up,’ I ordered impatiently.
His cheeks were red. ‘I was trying to impress you.’
I stared. ‘By kicking down a door?’
‘Women like that sort of thing,’ he muttered.
I struggled not to laugh. ‘For future reference, I am far more impressed with your pancake-making skills than your ability to grate cheese with your abs.’
‘Good to know.’ His face was still red.
‘You really pulled a curse down on yourself because you were trying to impress me?’
‘Can we leave it now?’ he asked plaintively.
I smirked. ‘For now, but we’re revisiting it later. That really is adorable.’
The deadliest man on seven continents narrowed his eyes. ‘I am not adorable.’
‘You are, but we’ll discuss that later. Time is marching on.’ I waved my hand impatiently. ‘Break the wards, Bastion. Let’s rescue our Frogmatch.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He shifted his right hand into talons and raised the pad of his thumb to swipe across the claw. When blood welled and he touched it to the door, the wards lit up so brightly I had to look away. Layer upon layer of them blazed across my retina then, just as suddenly, they melted away and almost dribbled down the walls.
‘I didn’t do it with finesse,’ Bastion apologised. ‘I’ve just ripped away the ones from the entrance, so we still need to be careful. Tristan may be alerted to some of his wards being destroyed.’
‘Let him come,’ I said grimly. ‘We’ll be waiting.’
Chapter 48
I painted perthro, the revelation rune, on the door just to be sure all the wards at the entrance had been broken. Not that I didn’t trust Bastion, but he had blundered into black wards before and I wasn’t leaving anything to chance. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him broken and exhausted like that again. Of course this time I’d be a damned sight quicker about lifting any curses, but getting the blood of the witch that had painted black runes always made things tricky.
We couldn’t be sure that it was Tristan who had painted them – it could have been his acolyte or another lackey. It was important never to assume anything about runes and I hadn’t checked the magical signature before Bastion had ripped them down, an oversight I was annoyed about.
When nothing lit up on the perthro, I nodded. ‘All clear,’ I said to Bastion. I tried to turn the door handle but the office door was locked, albeit with a good old-fashioned key this time. ‘Locked.’ I frowned. ‘Can you open it?’
Jinx had a set of lockpicks and the skills to use it, but I had no such skill. Doubtless Bastion did. ‘I’ve got a key,’ he said calmly. Without changing expression, he reared back and kicked a heavy foot against the lock. The door flung open.
I felt a small surge of desire. Okay, kicking down doors was a little impressive. Stupid cavewoman hormones. I battened down the flare of desire; now was definitely not the time to get distracted. Bastion sent me a smirk and a wink. He’d felt it. Dammit.
As I swept past him into the room, horror slammed into me. The room was lined with cages and rank with the stench of faeces, blood and death.
‘Ellie!’ Frogmatch coughed, doubled over in his small prison. ‘Tristan is a black witch!’ He was coughing and his red skin was already turning pink, a sure sign that he was ill.
I smiled at my little imp. ‘We figured. Let’s get you out of here,’ I glanced around the room. ‘All of you.’
I opened my tote and grabbed a jar of revelation potion and a paintbrush. I painted perthro but no runes showed up; the imp was locked away with nothing but the metal bars on his prison. Iron, no doubt.
‘I have something to tell you, Ellie,’ Frogmatch said. ‘I should have told you earlier. When I was snooping in your Coven, I heard a man talking about controlling vampyrs.’
I froze. ‘A necromancer?’ Was it the one that had killed Melva?
‘That’s what I’m figuring.’ He gave a little cough. ‘I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation. He must have been on the phone.’
‘It was definitely a man?’ I yanked on the cage door with all my might. It shuddered but didn’t give way; another pull should do it.
‘Yes, definitely a man.’
‘Did you see him? Can you identify him?’ I braced one hand against the cage and pulled the door again. This time it gave way and I reached in and gently lifted Frogmatch out of confinement. His body was terrifyingly cool to the touch. I cradled him close.
He coughed again. ‘No, but if I heard his voice again, I’m sure I could.’
‘Okay, this is good. Thank you, Frogmatch.’
‘I should have told you earlier but we were flying to Edinburgh against the clock.’ He took a shuddering breath. ‘If I’d died, you wouldn’t have known you had a necromancer in your midst.’
‘I’ve had a pretty good idea for a while,’ I admitted. ‘But I didn’t know that they were male. Thank you, that narrows the suspect pool a lot.’ And in my head it confirmed who the necromancer was. ‘Let’s get you healed up,’ I said firmly.
‘Help the others,’ he argued faintly. I grimaced but, looking around, I could see he wasn’t the worst off, not by a long shot. I set Frogmatch down carefully and turned to the rest of the cages. There were all sorts of small creatures in them: imps, cats, fairies, mice, all of them missing parts of their bodies.
I felt sick. I didn’t know whether their limbs had been cut off to be used in potions or if they’d been hurt for their pain to power black runework, but either way it was horrific.
‘Benji, David,’ I called desperately. ‘A little help.’
When the golems walked in and saw the imprisoned creatures, they let out a roar of outrage. ‘This is not right,’ David snarled.
‘It is not,’ Benji agreed. ‘We will help them.’
We searched the room for keys but found none. I patiently painted a perthro on each of the other cages but found no runes on them – utter laziness on Tristan’s part. Bastion, Benji and David started ripping them open with brute force.
A lot of the creatures were malnourished and could barely lift their heads even when they were gently cradled out of their confinement. The cats and mice appeared to be ordinary creatures; there was no familiar magic that I could sense.
The imps and fairies were as ashen as Frogmatch, and many of them weren’t moving. I had no idea how long they had been caged for but I was betting it was a long while. Too long. I felt a wave of fury. Most of them were too far gone to help but we had to try – we might save one or two, but not many more. The imps’ tails had been removed, their red skin was washed out, barely a faint pink. Next to them, Frogmatch looked the picture of health.
The fairies stared at us, unmoving; their wings had been torn off. They had retreated into the safety of their own minds. I had no idea if I could regrow the wings until I examined them properly; for now, we had to get the fairies to safety and give them food and water. Sometimes potions are no replacement for the basics like food and rest.
Benji had the cats and mice cradled in his arms. Even though they were half-starved, none of the cats twitched so much as a hair at being so close to the mice, their natural prey. They were lethargic and unmoving. So many living beings harmed – and for what?
David gently got the fairies out, carrying their tiny bodies effortlessly in his huge hands. Bastion did the same to the imps. ‘Take them to the awakening room,’ I suggested. ‘It’s closer and there will be plenty of healing potions there.’
Bastion hesitated at the threshold. ‘Go!’ I barked. ‘They need healing! Hurry! I’ll be just behind you.’
He felt the truth of the words and left. I painted the revelation rune perthro again and lit up the remaining runes in the office. This time, I studied the magical signature; it was probably Tristan’s, but I wanted to know if it wasn’t.
Bastion had melted away most of the runes but some still remained, and those were far too dangerous to leave unattended. The runes in the lounge had been hidden but the dark runes in the office were there to be seen – and activated. If someone stumbled in here and activated them by accident, I’d have never forgiven myself. Tristan wanted there to be dire consequences to interlopers. Bastion had ripped open a path for us but several live bombs remained. It would take a few minutes to cancel them all but it was worth the effort.
When I had subdued the worst of the black runes, I looked around. The office was filled with cages, knives and other implements of torture and the carpet was covered in suspiciously dark stains.
