The Forbidden

by Cheyenne McCray

  “It had to be a transport spell,” Hawk nearly growled. “But only one of the Fae can cast a spell like that.”

  Mackenzie bit her lower lip. “Or a very powerful warlock.”

  “Godsdamn.” Hawk drew his sword. Metal scraped against leather. He turned and bolted through the near darkness, in the direction he thought the meadow was. “Stay with me!”

  Behind him Mackenzie’s boot steps crunched sticks and leaves. Branches slapped Hawk’s face and snagged his clothing like hag claws.

  Adrenaline pumped through his body and fury burned him like the fires of the volcano of Otherworld.

  Hawk crashed through more underbrush. “We should have been there by now.”

  “Where’s the meadow?” Mackenzie’s breathing was heavy as her footsteps crunched leaves and sticks behind him. “I have no idea where we are.”

  Hawk roared as he ran.

  Not one of his brethren answered him.

  Something dropped from a tree. Slithered on Hawk’s neck. A hiss filled his ear.

  “Godsdamn!” Hawk shouted. He passed his sword to the hand of his broken arm, reached up and grabbed the scaly creature. He flung it against a tree while he ran. And then he saw them. Not dozens, but hundreds of glowing eyes. Hundreds of snakes draped over branches, hanging from trees. Squirming on the ground.

  His heart pounded and his chest seized. That old feeling clenched his body as the memories bombarded him. Of being trapped in a pit of snakes. Of his wife dying by a Basilisk bite.

  Snakes. Gods, the snakes!

  He would not let them keep him from Silver.

  Wouldn’t allow them to harm her.

  Mackenzie cried out behind him. He saw a golden glow as she zapped some while she ran. “They’re everywhere!”

  Hawk gripped his sword in his good hand and hacked his way through the dangling snakes.

  Somewhere close by, Silver screamed. A flash of blinding white light followed.

  Hawk stopped and shaded his eyes. Mackenzie smacked into his back and caught his shirt in her fists to stabilize herself.

  Silver’s cry and the light had come from his left. They’d been going the wrong way.

  A snake dropped on his neck, but again he flung it away. He wheeled and charged in the direction of Silver’s scream, tearing himself from Mackenzie’s grip. Her footfalls pounded leaves and earth behind him.

  Silver. He had to find her. Where? How?

  He gripped his weapon so hard his fingers ached. Snakes roiled about his feet as he ran. He trampled them without mercy. Silver!

  Hawk doubled his speed. Branches scraped his face. He hacked at the snakes. Flung more away that dropped on his shoulders. Sliced branches. Fear for Silver pushed him faster. His breathing came in sharp gusts.

  Strong moonlight up ahead. Beyond the tree line, a grassy meadow.

  Hawk tore out of the trees and came up short. A stabbing pain shot through his chest.

  Silver lay crumpled on the ground. Unmoving.

  Cassia stood beside Silver’s body, facing a creature rising up to tower well over Hawk’s height. A gigantic snake. No—a Basilisk.

  A horrified shout tore from Mackenzie’s lips.

  Cassia raised her arms and a flash of white light brightened the meadow, so bright it nearly blinded Hawk. Snakes fell from trees, others wiggled, and all crumbled to ash upon the grass.

  But her power did nothing to the Basilisk.

  “Ssssssooooo sssssorrry,” the creature hissed in a laughing tone as it turned to Hawk. “You are ssssso very late.”

  Hawk’s vision sharpened. His fury and his pain at the thought that Silver could be dead was gut wrenching. He gave the D’Danann cry and charged.

  The Basilisk’s eyes narrowed. It unhinged its jaws. Coiled. Ready to spring.

  Still yelling, Hawk raised his sword. Cut his weapon in a wide arc. Made contact just below the beast’s head.

  Hawk’s sword bounced off the Basilisk’s armor-like scales. The force of the rebound threw him back and vibrated through his arm.

  He landed on his broken arm. Felt bone shatter again.

  Pain nearly blinded him, but he lurched to his feet. Staggered. Sword still in his good hand.

  The Basilisk was nearly on him. Fangs glistening in moonlight, dripping with green poison only a Basilisk would possess. Jaws as wide as a cavern. Ready to swallow Hawk whole.

  Fury chased away every bit of pain. Every bit of fear.

  Hawk charged the beast again. The moment he reached the Basilisk, he drove his sword straight into its mouth. Up into the creature’s brain.

  A hissing scream shattered the meadow’s near tranquility. The scream was both human and inhuman.

  Blood spurted from the snake in a fountain of gore. Hawk stumbled back, his sword coming free. Before he had the chance to avoid them, the beast’s fangs gnashed and pierced the flesh of his good arm.

  Pain—incredible blazing pain—burned his body like a firestorm. Heat. Gods, the heat! It was like being branded, molten metal against pliant flesh.

  The Basilisk yanked up its head. Blood continued spurting from its mouth. Green poison flowed from fangs covered with Hawk’s blood.

  With a screeching death cry, the Basilisk crumpled to the meadow floor and faded away.

  Hawk’s vision began to darken. He stumbled sideways. His sword fell from the hand of what had been his good arm.

  And then there was nothing.

  * * *

  Silver stirred. Her chest ached and one of her ribs gave a sickening pop, followed by excruciating pain. Cassia was running her hands over Silver, an eerie yellow glow passing between their bodies.

  “Silver! Hawk!” came Mackenzie’s anguished cry as she broke through the trees into the meadow, and then she was beside Silver, pushing Cassia away.

  “You were in league with that creature that killed Eric, weren’t you?” Silver said to Cassia as she forced herself to sit up. Her palms pressed against grass and earth. Her sight went dim again. The pain was almost too much.

  Mortimer poked his head from Cassia’s pocket and gave an angry chitter, as if chiding Silver.

  “Never.” Cassia shook her head, her features pale.

  Mackenzie knelt before Silver, face tight with fear, eyes beyond worried. “Thank the Ancestors you’re alive.”

  As Mackenzie helped her up, the agony was so intense Silver found it difficult to breathe. Difficult to speak.

  Through her haze of pain, Silver’s eyes rested on Mackenzie. “Hawk. Where is he?”

  “I—” Mackenzie glanced away from Silver. “I don’t know if he—he’s all right.”

  Silver turned in the direction Mackenzie was looking and saw Hawk.

  Bloody. His body twisted, green pus rolling from two deep punctures in his arm.

  Silver blocked thoughts of her own pain from her mind. She lurched to her feet. Stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. Crawled to Hawk. Tears rolled down Silver’s face. “No. Please, no.”

  Mackenzie knelt and touched her hand to Hawk’s neck and her eyes were wide. “No pulse.”

  Cassia murmured, “A Basilisk bite—one of the only things that can kill one of the Fae.”

  “He’s not dead.” Silver ripped her gaze to Mackenzie, unreasonably angry with her friend. “He’s in there. I know it. He hasn’t turned to dust. He’s not dead!”

  “Where are the damned D’Danann?” Silver raised her head and cried out, “Elementals, I know you’re here. Help me. Please!”

  Silence answered her call. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound in or outside the meadow.

  The gifts of the Elements. The thought sang in Silver’s mind like the whisper of wind through trees.

  She pushed herself to her haunches. Pain clenched her chest. A few broken ribs, she had no doubt. She bit the inside of her cheek, shoved her hand into her pocket and dug into the charm bag.

  Through the warmth of the small flame, she felt the roughness of the emerald against her fingertips.

 
“For healing,” came the Gnome’s voice in her mind.

  She yanked out the large emerald. Nearly without thought, she pressed it to one of the puncture wounds on Hawk’s arm. The malodor of the green pus, like the scent of death, made her eyes water. She quickly began to chant, “By the power of the Ancestors and the gift of the Earth Elementals, please heal this man. So mote it be.”

  At once blood stopped flowing from the quarter-sized puncture. Green pus vanished, as if sucked into the emerald. Skin covered the hole, leaving nothing but a thick pink scar.

  Silver paused from the shock of it. The stone worked.

  “I can hardly believe it.” Mackenzie leaned closer. “I’ve never seen such a deadly wound completely healed like this before.”

  “Thank the goddess,” Cassia whispered.

  Hawk stirred. Groaned. Silver hurried to heal the other wound. She chanted as she pressed the emerald against the second fang mark. Again blood stopped flowing, green ooze vanished into the emerald, along with the stench of the poison. Skin healed, leaving another pink scar.

  Silver almost cried in relief. She sat back on her haunches and the emerald crumbled in her fist, turning into rich dark dirt that trickled through her fingers. It had served its purpose and returned to the earth.

  Hawk opened his eyes as if waking from a long nap. He blinked. Looked from Silver to Mackenzie. Then complete awareness returned to his eyes as he narrowed his brows, focusing on Cassia who stood a few feet away.

  Hawk pushed himself to a sitting position and he leaned into Silver, his eyes still on Cassia. No matter how welcome Hawk’s touch was, she couldn’t help the cry that tore from her lips from the agony ripping through her chest.

  Hawk moved away from her at once, fury in his expression. “What did the thing do to you?”

  “A couple of my ribs. Broken.” Silver could hardly get the words out it hurt so much to breathe, much less talk.

  His eyes cut from her to Cassia as he pushed himself to his feet, good hand clenched around his sword. “What have you to do with all of this? You had better speak quickly.”

  Cassia stood her ground and raised her chin. When she spoke, her voice was different, Otherworldly. Even her features changed...to Elvin. Beautiful beyond mere mortals.

  “Moondust sent me to watch over Silver once Copper vanished. She suspected foul play and worried for her remaining daughter.”

  Silver gave a soft gasp, a sense of the surreal flowing over her skin in small prickles. “Mother? She knew about all of this? I don’t believe it.”

  “That is why I was sent to be your apprentice before serving any other Coven member.” Cassia turned to look at what remained of the Basilisk which was now like soot scattered upon the grass. “I was warned of the Basilisk and Fomorii after Copper vanished.”

  “How?” Hawk demanded.

  “The Great Guardian warned me.” Cassia turned back to both of them, her expression thoughtful, as if contemplating how much to say.

  Hawk’s voice was harsh as he said, “How could you have spoken with her?”

  Cassia’s features became resolute, as if reaching a decision. “I can move between worlds as I wish. I am half Elvin and half human, as your mother is, Silver.”

  Silver felt as if her head was going to explode. Her mother—half human, half Elvin?

  She had no time to contemplate it.

  Her attention snapped to the surrounding trees. “They’re here.”

  36

  “The Fomorii.” Silver forced her words through the pain. It clenched her chest so badly she thought she was going to collapse. “We’re trapped.”

  Dark shapes shifted from shadows, creeping into the moonlit meadow like black fog. They formed a large circle around Silver, Hawk, Mackenzie, Cassia, and the small pond beside them. The once sweet, clean air grew foul with Fomorii stench.

  Silver’s heart pounded so hard she thought her chest would split. With her broken ribs, she had to fight for each breath.

  Each throb, every breath she took, was agony. She had no healing remedies with her, no way to alleviate the pain except to ignore it. She might be a witch, but her bones still needed to be set.

  Hawk gripped his sword firmly, his jaw tense as he cut his gaze around the circle of trees while demons crept forward, from out of the underbrush.

  Where were the D’Danann? Where was Jake and his team?

  Silver swallowed hard as Fomorii in human form walked through the circle of giant demons. They each forced a D’Anu witch to walk in front of them. Witches with hands bound behind their backs. Without the use of their hands they could do nothing. Could perform no magic.

  Some witches stumbled, fell to their knees, then dragged by their hair.

  The witches looked beyond exhausted. Even beneath the eerie moonlight, Silver could see black shadows darkening their eyes, their matted and frizzled hair, their soiled robes. Many had expressions of having seen terrors beyond imagination.

  No doubt they had.

  Silver’s heart ached for the witches. She sensed several were ready to break at any moment. To give in to the Fomorii demands and become warlocks to summon more of the demons.

  Mortimer bounded out of Cassia’s pocket and straight toward a gray-haired witch. It was Janis.

  Mackenzie held her hands in front of her, palms facing the advancing Fomorii, a furious look on her features. “Right now would be a real good time for your friends to show up, Hawk.”

  He searched the treetops with his eyes. “Where in the gods’ names are they?”

  Silver, Cassia, Mackenzie, and Hawk eased around so that they stood in a mini circle, back to back, while the Fomorii slowly approached, prodding the witches to walk in front of them.

  Silver’s gut twisted when she saw her parents.

  “Mother. Father.” She started to step forward, but Hawk held his bloodied sword in front of her as a barrier.

  Despite their worn expressions, their battered faces, their neglected appearances, hands tied behind their backs, both Moondust and Victor held their heads high and proud. Mingled with their exhaustion, Silver saw concern, love, and pride for her in their eyes.

  Silver wanted to run to her parents, throw her arms around them. Take them away from this horrid mess.

  But she could do nothing. Not yet. But I will. Somehow, some way, I will.

  Soon Hawk, Mackenzie, Cassia, and Silver were surrounded by the captive witches, all backed by Fomorii.

  Black-robed warlocks stepped from the shadows.

  Goose bumps pricked Silver’s skin as she recognized witches and apprentices from her own Coven who had succumbed to the dark side of magic. Not only did Silver’s senses tell her they were now Balorite warlocks, but it was in their eyes—something that told her they were now owned by Darkness.

  There was no hope for these former witches. They had given in. They had sacrificed their souls, their hearts, and all that was pure and good. For ultimate power or simply to live.

  But what kind of life would it be?

  “They’ve sold their souls to dark sorcery,” Silver said aloud, still unable to believe what was right before her eyes.

  “And so will you.” The Fomorii leader called Junga strolled in human form through the ring of demons, then the circle of witches, then through the warlocks, to stand just feet from the quartet at the center. She wore clothing much like Silver’s jeans and top, only she appeared impeccably tailored.

  The Fomorii leader turned her haughty gaze on Hawk. “No doubt you wish to cut me down.” She gestured to his sword. “But if you attempt to, you and your precious Silver will die.”

  Junga glanced to Fomorii in human form who stood behind the bound witches. Their firearms were fixed on the four of them standing back to back at the center of the meadow.

  “They may not be well trained with these weapons,” Junga said with a smirk. “But at least one of them is certain to hit their mark at such close range.”

  Hawk growled.

  Silver swallowed
down her panic, and even that hurt her broken ribs.

  Dear Ancestors, please guide me in this time of need, Silver thought. She took a deep breath and winced as her ribs creaked and pain clenched her again.

  “Where are the D’Danann?” Silver asked, trying to find some way to give them more time.

  Junga cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting, isn’t it? Your friends have abandoned you.”

  “Never.” Hawk’s golden-amber eyes nearly blazed in the moonlight.

  “That shimmer.” Mackenzie jerked her head up to look above them. “They have a protective glamour around the meadow.”

  “A spell,” Silver said, “to allow the Fomorii and witches through, but to keep D’Danann out.”

  Silver’s heart nearly stopped as she sensed a push at her mind, a slow burning sensation throughout her body, and an undeniable draw toward the man approaching her.

  Darkwolf strolled through the Fomorii, warlocks, and witches to stand just feet from Silver. He wore black jeans this time and a black T-shirt, the dark stone eye hanging from the chain around his neck. How could someone so evil look so handsome?

  “Are you ready to join me?” He gave her that slow seductive smile that pulled at her like the strongest of magnets. “You have touched the dark many times. You enjoy the power. I know you want more.”

  Silver slowly shook her head. “I will never cross that line.”

  “You already have.” The warlock high priest’s deep voice rang through the meadow. “You have killed, Silver Ashcroft. You have taken life in rage, you have taken life for vengeance—and you enjoyed it. That alone makes you one of us.”

  Tears burned at the back of Silver’s eyes. She heard Janis’s gasp and Mortimer’s chitter of disapproval when she didn’t argue the point.

  Before she could stop herself, Silver shouted, “Those Fomorii deserved to die!” Her body shook with the force of her words. “They are nothing but servants of evil!”

  The wickedly handsome man smiled and beckoned to her again. “Come to your destiny, Silver.”

  She gritted her teeth. “No.”