by Lisa Daniels
They left four sentries waiting outside the Mausoleum, and everyone else poured into the underground resting place of the Red Woman. Footsteps echoed in the claustrophobic space as they all shuffled down. One of the witches in their company used their light witch gifts to illuminate the way for the others, as it was pitch black within. The stairs led to a huge underground room, big enough even for Meridas and Janus to transform into dragons. The light witch floated her lights all around the room, until they were left with a perfect view of white, solemn walls with murals carved into them, usually in spiraling shapes, and etched images of people sitting or standing.
Nobody else other than them seemed to fill up the space. So the people who lived in the camp probably didn’t make it down here, unless they found another place to hide. Something stirred in Evelyn’s soul, something akin to terror. The cloying magic felt stronger here, like it wanted to push into her, and whisper more words…
The group spread out, leaving mud trackings near the bottom of the stairs, though the main interest was in the tomb that rested at the end of the room, with a carved white statue bowed over the tomb as if in prayer. There didn’t seem to be any more hidden places, just a massive chamber, and a resting place. Still, Evelyn couldn’t help but feel like she was trapped here, somehow. She wanted to get out before something bad happened. She also didn’t see anything that resembled a cure in this place, and the paranoia grew.
Eventually they flocked around the tomb, noting that the figure bowed over the tomb clasped a stone basin, and within that stone basin was a cupful of murky water.
A loud, terrifying thump echoed through the chamber—doors slamming shut. The sound of footsteps running down the staircase receded into silence. No one emerged from the stairs.
“Hello?” Meridas called, walking away from the group towards the source of the former noise. “Is everything okay?”
No response. Nothing but silence, and the increasing unease within the group.
“They were running to us. Why did it fall silent?” Meridas reached the stairs and disappeared up them. He came back into sight a moment later. “The door upstairs is shut. I think we’ve been locked in.”
The group leader cursed softly. “No matter. We’ll use our magic to force our way out if necessary.”
“Seems the enemy were waiting for us, after all,” Evelyn said. “But we didn’t spot them at all. How?”
“Those taken by the wild magic have access to all sorts of powers,” came the quiet reply. “Rarely any of them are safe. Let’s focus on the tomb for now. Who can see the water?”
Evelyn glanced at the man. Blond, light-blue-eyed, who sweated profusely to the point where it drenched his collar. “What do you mean, who can see it?”
“Not everyone will be able to.” He tapped the basin with one finger. “In here, if anyone can see water, they are meant to cast it upon the tomb.” He now traced the pockmarks within the white tomb.
“But… why would we even need to do this?”
“You think we know? It’s how it’s always been. Should we make it here without incident, the waters will appear only to someone of magic, and only if they are considered to have the right mindset, according to the Red Woman, who watches over the tomb.”
“I see her,” Alex said, looking to the side. Evelyn whirled to look as well, but saw nothing.
“Me, too,” Rukia said, puzzled.
Only Evelyn, Janus, and Meridas couldn’t.
“You three don’t have Zamorkan blood,” the group leader said. “That’s who can see her. Now… who is able to look upon water?”
A moment’s pause. “Me,” Evelyn said. “I see water.”
“Me as well,” Alex admitted. So could Meridas and one of the Zamorkans. Not Rukia or Janus, however.
“So what do we do with the magical water?” Evelyn asked. She was gestured over to the basin, and instructed to pour the water over the tomb. When she did so, to her astonishment, flowers bloomed out of the little holes, flowers with bright, glowing purple petals, about a dozen of them in total. Creation magic? She’d only read about that back in the academy. And all of it was speculation, that yes, there probably were creation witches, but such powers might get them hung, due to their gifts touching directly upon some sworn religious systems that acknowledged all creation to belong to the gods. Jarithas was one such nation that believed in a pantheon of gods, and took great offense to creation witches.
Except… no one here was responsible for making this. Once she plucked the flowers, under the encouragement of the Zamorkan leader, the others who saw water did the same thing in turn—tipping the basin, which now seemed empty to Evelyn’s eyes, then plucking at something invisible, which appeared as the purple flower in their hand once removed from the tomb.
“This is so weird,” Rukia said, bending close to the tomb to try and watch it clearer, although she obviously saw nothing until the final stage each time. “I have no idea how it works. It’s hurting my head even thinking about it.”
“We’ll have another challenge before long,” the group leader warned them, his face set in a grim line. “The people who locked us in will want the flowers. To stop us being able to heal.”
“We should have waited near the entrance,” Janus growled, wrapping a protective arm around Evelyn, which she much appreciated. “Or responded instantly.”
“No point,” the leader replied. “They’re prepared for us to come here. They’ll either expect to starve us out, or kill us the moment we step through. We’ll be easier to take out coming up the stairs than we will in the open.”
Which left them with flowers. Magical flowers, apparently the cure to a disease that haunted nations and brought them low. Tiny, cursing flowers.
Something whispered in Evelyn’s ear, stronger, more insistent, and she saw several of the Zamorkans’ faces glaze over. Magic welled up in them, and when the three women examined the flowers in Evelyn’s hands, an ugly sneer crossed their lips. A mad gleam lit up their eyes.
“We’ll be taking that,” one white-haired woman declared, raising her hand, a sword forming in it.
Chaos ensued. The group exploded into shouts, and Evelyn delved into her magic at the same time as Rukia, both of them launching into the air and away from the fight. The moment Evelyn activated her magic, the whispering grew stronger, maddening, and she hunched over, gasping. The atmosphere drowned in the stench of wild magic, and now shapes and illusions appeared in the group of fourteen people, like the shadows of people with wide, insane smiles, expressions contorted with bloodlust. Meridas sprang to protect Alex, and Evelyn focused on trying to deflect any projectiles she saw.
“What the skies is going on?” Rukia yelled at Evelyn, but Evelyn had no rational answer for her. Possession, maybe? Did seem like possession from where she floated… plus…
Stop them, a voice whispered in her mind. They’ll take the magic for themselves. Leave your body rotting in the forest.
Her gaze shifted to Rukia.
Screams and calls for calm were lost in the confusion—people not knowing, not understanding, why their allies were suddenly attacking them.
You won’t be able to save your family. You’ll go back and they’ll all be dead. She’ll do it. She’ll do it!
Evelyn raised her hands and sent a jet of air into Rukia. The woman tumbled sideways, before righting herself, and to Evelyn’s eyes, Rukia shifted from a surprised, scared woman to a demon with glowing red eyes, and a voice distorted by dark magic.
“Evelyn...” Two different statements came out of the demon’s mouth. What are you doing? Mixed with, I’ll kill you. You deserve to die.
Shrieking, Evelyn darted at the demon and grasped the demon’s neck with her hands. “Oh no, you won’t! I’ll stop you!”
A faint whisper, that sounded like please, stop, flooded with a hysterical cackle, yelling more promises of death, describing how they planned to kill her. Wind whipped into Evelyn’s face, tearing her away from the demon. No—she had to
stop it.
Had to—
“Listen to me!” the demon screamed the words, and its face morphed back into Rukia’s again, with her light brown, reddish hair, her frightened blue eyes, rubbing her throat. “Evelyn, I’m not your enemy!”
The demon began covering the air witch’s face again.
Violently shaking her head, Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut, horror raking through her. She wanted to both launch herself at Rukia and scream at the fact that something was urging her to forget everyone around her.
When she opened her eyes again, Rukia appeared normal. “It takes over our minds,” Evelyn gasped as Rukia drifted cautiously nearer, avoiding one magical projectile flung her way. “It made me think you were—you wanted to kill me.”
“I can see that...” Rukia yanked Evelyn away from the fight, watching it intently, her body tense. Evelyn ignored the whispers as best as able, trying to pick out the sides. Meridas and Janus served to make matters worse when they shifted into their dragon forms, white and sinuous as they thrashed around. The Zamorkans were at each other’s throats. As for Alex… she clung to a fallen person, trying to heal them. Evelyn directed her winds to pick up Alex and her target and bring them close. The four of them together drifted away from the rampaging dragons, and Alex continued to try and pump her magic into the group leader.
“Why does it not affect you two?” Evelyn asked. “For a moment, I saw nothing but enemies. I still hear something urging me to attack.”
“I hear something, too,” Rukia said, eyes constantly shifting to the battle. “I just figured it’d be that wild magic they keep warning us about, so I ignored it.”
“Same,” Alex said, and Evelyn glowered at them.
“You just… ignored it. Of course you did.” Her eyes sought out Janus, who swept one of the maddened witches aside with his long tail. Meridas bit down into someone until they went still.
“Do you think the dragons will turn on us?” Rukia asked.
“I don’t know.”
They watched, trying to pluck people from the fight one by one. Alex’s magic succeeded in healing the group leader, but when he opened his eyes, his teeth were bared in a vicious grimace. He thrashed at Alex, and her expression went dark. Rukia dropped the man’s body, and he attempted to leap up at them, falling just short.
“I was so close to using my magic to kill him,” Alex whispered, licking her lips, now appearing more anxious than before. Evelyn said nothing, only expending her magic to one person at a time, focusing on the ones who didn’t have magic. She pinned them against the walls, about three struggling witches. The last of the fighters died as the dragons finished them off. Leaving five dead.
The ones pinned against the walls continued to writhe and scream that they were dangerous, that they needed to be put down, and Meridas and Janus reverted to their normal forms.
“We need to get out of here,” Janus said, panting. “We’ll fly out. Screw it. If we’ve got the cure...”
“I don’t understand what in the Six Isles just happened,” Meridas said, breathing hard and fast. “They… everyone just started attacking. One got me in the arm, see?” He held up a bloodied shoulder.
Evelyn hastily explained about the possession magic, before bringing their four captives together, suspended in mid-air. “They’re taken by it. I think they can be… untaken.”
“I’ll kill you before you kill me!” the group leader said. He thrashed like a puppet, not doing much with his physical magic. Alex let out an annoyed growl, and attempted to swim through the air towards him.
“Let me try. Maybe I can cure it.”
Cautiously, Evelyn nudged her along, watching her approach the man from behind, who seemed oblivious to her advance. When she grabbed him, the man shook violently for a moment, before his eyes cleared.
“Looks like I can stop it.” She folded her arms, though appeared greatly agitated. “But if any one of those other three take a swipe at me, I swear I’m making them lose a body part or two.”
Chapter Ten – Janus
No one was waiting for them when they left the tomb. Unless you counted the wildstorm that wasn’t scheduled to appear. They’d already taken the flowers off the dead Zamorkan who was able to grow them, and left their dead in the Mausoleum, unable to properly assess their situation. The storm outside, though, gave them a nice, clear expectation of things.
They didn’t waste breath yelling about how impossible this was. They just wanted to get out before the wild magic messed with them further. Checking again that Evelyn was all right, Janus then shifted into dragon form, intending to fly in the storm. Meridas did the same, and everyone scrambled onto their backs, struggling to do so with the powerful winds clawing at them, until Rukia and Evelyn extended their magical influence to give them a bubble of calm.
People emerged from the treelines beyond the makeshift settlement. Janus’ serpentine eyes picked out the murderous intent in their faces. Some vaguely familiar ones were there as well—members of their former twenty-strong expedition. The four who were left to guard. Taken by the magic? Evelyn spoke about whispers, but Janus heard nothing but the thoughts in his own head. Whatever accursed magic influenced this place, it didn’t have much of an effect on dragons.
He could hope, anyway. The fear in his stomach mixed with the savage pride he felt in Evelyn. She didn’t choose to ride on either dragon, and instead floated into the air, Rukia behind her, and diverted the storms for them. Her dark hair was calm and settled compared to the tempest outside the protective wind cocoon around them, and they launched off into the air. The fact that the enemy Zamorkans just watched him go caused some concern in him, as he felt they should have resisted harder, done everything in their power to stop them lifting off and flying for safety. Maybe they thought the storm would take care of them.
Rukia seemed to be the one pushing herself and Evelyn forward, and the curly-haired air witch handled the pressure bubble.
Even with her efforts at protection, the wind still howled through, and rain slashed them, giving Janus an idea of just how deadly this storm was. They flew through darkness and rain and smashed into branches in their ascent above the canopy, not caring anymore about being cautious. They were spotted. The storm was upon them. Nothing mattered now but speed. His wings beat furiously, clawing at the air currents given to him, but it was an uphill struggle against unnatural elements, and he remembered, quite candidly, that they lost the last battle which involved a wildstorm.
But now they actually had the cure in their hands. They couldn’t afford to lose it. People were willing to die for it. And people did.
Above the trees, the storm worsened in strength without windbreaks. Meridas struggled to keep moving, and their protective bubble weakened under the onslaught. Any words shouted were lost. No one could be heard in the relentless splutter of rain and wind.
Barely anyone could be seen, either. A huge wing buffeted him—Meridas had trailed into his pathway. One of the remaining light witches riding Janus illuminated the area around them, just in time to see Meridas change into human form, and the people relying on him to save them tearing off in the wind. Rukia shouted something, grabbing the four people from ripping off into the storm—including Alex, who held onto Meridas’ arm, once they were dragged forward.
I… I can’t keep this up… we need to go back under. The trees provide good cover, but up here, we’re sitting targets. Trusting Evelyn and Rukia to pick up the goods, he shifted back as well. A scream tore out of his throat as he was tossed around like a toy, before being hooked by something invisible that pushed him into Meridas and Alex. Meridas was unconscious, with a large welt on his head. Something must have flown into him.
“Down!” Janus tried to shriek, but of course, the words were ripped from his throat. Evelyn, however, had reached the conclusion first. Their original aim to push free and head straight to Leavenport couldn’t work in this storm. The dragons couldn’t out-fly the tempest. Evelyn lowered them below the canopy, an
d the howling wind lessened instantly. Still strong, still deadly, but he felt less like the storm was trying to tear him limb from limb.
Less like dying. Even if he did dangle in the air, with nothing but the two air witches protecting them from the worst of the impact. Soon their group made a strange procession. The air witches in the middle of it, the four physical witches in front, forming a flesh barrier with their magic, since they were more resilient to damage. The unconscious Meridas under care of Alex, with her hair whipping around her face as she rested her cheek against his chest, listening for where he needed healing. The air witches steered them through the trees.
Skies, Janus thought, both panicked and amused. If we get out of this, we’ll have quite the tale to tell. Wonder who would believe us? That we survived a wildstorm in this manner?
Tree branches slammed into the physical witches, who held up to their duties. Janus scanned below, trying not to feel disoriented at the fact that his feet were dangling over nothing, and he saw how the vines and leaves swayed in the wind, but more or less stayed rooted. The light orbs around him didn’t extend his sight as far as he wanted—the ground remained shrouded in darkness. Anyone living in the forest probably knew to move deeper into it when a storm hit. Deeper into the wild magic. He felt the charged nature of the air around them, and remembered the dancing, grinning illusions in the fight within the Mausoleum. The wild magic, stirred up by the fight, urging them to kill.
A force he hoped never to encounter again. One pebble slammed into his shoulder, leaving a blaze of pain, and he gritted his teeth to stop from crying out, though he rotated several times from the impact before settling into a dangling position facing Evelyn. The wind that broke through ruffled her mane in a glorious way, and for a moment, she looked like she might have been born of the storm itself. Her eyes were squinted almost shut, like most of theirs, since the wind made them water, and Janus could only imagine the kind of power Evelyn and Rukia battled against, how much they mitigated against the storm.