I give him a nod, “Only the Witch of Wishes and the Supreme Sorceress know about it.”
“So, that means we have to confront at least one of them,” Adara seems to be thinking out loud.
“Yes,” I respond, and she seems startled by the confirmation. “It will be extremely difficult to request an audience with either of the two, but our best bet would be to meet the ‘Witch of Wishes’.”
Being granted an audience with the ‘Witch of Wishes’ is a feat in itself.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to force me to make a wish,” Dimia growls, her ears already stretched in defiance.
“No. I have a better idea.”
***
“How exactly are we going to make it look like this woman is dead?” Dimia feigns disinterest, but I can see the curiosity in her eyes.
We’re standing over Ryia’s unconscious body. She already looks pretty dead from afar. Her pale face, the dark bags under her eyes, and her almost dried, cracked lips, all speak to the absence of life.
The Guardian Witch’s eyes suddenly flutter until her lids open, and her eyes begin to wander around the room, trying to locate where she is.
When she catches the sight of me, she scoffs, “Well, if it isn’t my little sister.”
Dimia and Adara, who are at my side, stand back. In my peripheral view, Bran makes a few steps towards me, ready for any eventuality.
“Drop the act Ryia. There’s no longer a need for that.” Her brows immediately furrow in the way I addressed her.
“Oh, so you’re back now Meghan?” she sneers as it dawns on her that Liliwen has gone.
There’s a trace of guilt in her ice-cold stare or her thin pursed lips. Hundreds of years under her torture and she still has the audacity to talk down to me.
“Interesting,” I circle her with my arms folded behind me.
“Even now that you’ve been outwitted, and knocked onto your arse you’re reaching for your shield of arrogance? I pity you.”
The glare she shoots at me bounces off the ice in my chest and falls to the ground, having no effect on me.
“When you walked into the Den to give up your memories, I knew you were up to no good. I told them there and then and I have been proved right.”
“Congratulations,” I respond dryly, clapping my hands. “You played your role very well.” She pursed her lips and silently glared at me for a few seconds.
“What role?” She scoffs, trying to pretend that the idea of being played by me doesn’t infuriate her. It always did,
“I always knew you were up to something. That is why I volunteered to keep an eye on you. I never dreamed they’d force me to be related to you but whatever. I was right.” She huffed, and I chuckle at her apparent need to be on top, even when trying to scrape herself from the bottom of my shoe.
Perhaps,” I whisper, nodding at her assertion, “But all that means is that you’re an even bigger fool than I thought.”
Her frown is satisfying. I can see the wheels in her head, turning as she tries to figure out whether or not I’m bluffing.
“So, what do you plan on doing with me now?” she tries to sound casual.
Without a second in between her last breath and mine, I respond flatly, “We’re going to kill you.”
No one would miss it.
The sheer dread that flashed crossed her face. I wish I could capture it and preserve it forever.
“Oh, what do we have here?” I grin, and she scowls at me.
“Are you afraid, sis?” I made a whisper, my breath dancing along the exposed white flesh of her scrawny neck. I’m close enough to see all the hairs raise in response to my question. It wouldn’t matter what she says next. I already know she’s terrified. Her competition with me was always driven in part by fear.
“Good. You should be.” I snake my hand to the back of her head and press her forehead against mine, staring into her eyes before eventually dropping her head like a stone and turning to leave with Dimia close behind me.
Before I get to the door, she erupts into loud laughter, a hysterical partially maniacal rendition of a woman gone completely mad.
“Go ahead, Catalyst Witch! Kill me!” she doesn’t bother to hide the poison in her tone.
“Kill me, Meghan. Kill me and destroy the ritual. Go ahead!” she shouts. “Oh, did you forget?” She laughs, “I am a part of the circle. I am one of the eight. Kill me and this little game of yours is all over.”
No one spoke. Ryia’s menacing laughter is the only sound in the room. It sounds like a drowning woman clutching at straws to me. I glance back at her and see the arrogance in her face as she continues to taunt me, “go on sis, do it,” she hisses at me. But I silence her with a smirk and five simple words.
“Don’t worry sis, I will.”
A fleeting look of panic spreads across her face as I leave the room and head for the lawn.
Fool. If Ryia thinks that her empty threats are enough to provoke me, then, she’s more deluded than I realised. She obviously has no idea who I am.
“Meghan,” Ulric calls out to me as soon I step out on the landing, “Garth is gone.”
“What? Where did he go?”
Please don’t say it.
The druid’s face is pinched with worry when a homing pigeon arrives and settles on his arm. After hearing what it has to say for a few seconds, his forest green eyes become grim.
“Garth has moved his troops to war. He has declared open war against the coven.”
“How was he even able to get so far in such a short time?” Dimia growls from my side.
“He took my ring,” the vampire states as he and Dain emerge from the door.
This is not good.
Garth is leading them to their death. He has no idea what he has done.
“There’s something else,” the short-haired man speaks urgently.
The door behind us burst open, and Adara rushes in, with the hem of her robe clutched in her hands.
“The Witch of Wishes is summoned!” She exclaims, and I turn to look at Ulric who nods.
“It is as she says.”
***
The woman who claims to own the castle led us to the Alchemy Tower.
An air of nostalgia blows when I enter the room and see the racks of alchemy ingredients, herbs, spices, and a case of vials of potions in various colours and shapes.
I’ve holed myself up here many times in the past, reading all the spell books I could find. The dark elf approaches the table with an arcane pentagram drawn within the surface as several gems and stones surround it, each one for different usage. Some of them I can recognise while the others are physical manifestations of the myths and rumours passed on through generations. These were unrecognisable to me; they weren’t here the last time I came here.
Dimia picks up an elongated red crystal, a portal stone. She puts it in the middle of the pentagram and chants in Elven language as she closes her eyes.
When she opens them after a few minutes, she turns to us, “I found her.”
“Can you set up a portal to link to her location?” I ask, not wanting to waste any more time.
With a smug scoff, she says, “Of course.”
As she begins her muttering chants under her breath, I turn my attention to the others.
“Ulric, Dain, you have to get to Garth. Do everything you can to stop him. Without our allies, he’ll only be stomping his way to suicide.”
The druid’s straight short hair gently bounces as he nods. Dain does the same.
We can’t lose Garth. We’re already down one key player.
“Adara, I’ll leave Ryia under your watch. You can place her in the Round House.”
The copycat structure of Ty Crwn settles within this old castle, somewhere outside the tower. Dimia has always wanted to have one in the castle. Its confines would be convenient enough to keep the witch under surveillance.
The sorceress finishes her chant and just beside the cauldron, a whirling doorway emer
ges out of thin air.
“That’s our gate to have our wish granted,” Dimia sets the red crystal aside and takes a similar one in a smaller shape to put in her back pocket.
Bran doesn’t need any word from me. He already decided he’s coming with us even if I refuse to let him. I take the Fluorite Crystal Dagger from the counter filled with lined up racks. It’s like a double-edged sword, a useful tool, and a powerful weapon. But like all the other weapons, there’s a kind of power that will surge through your veins when you wield it. It can consume and devour its wielder with the irresistible sense of having the power to take a life so easily.
“Let’s go,” taking the steps toward the portal followed by Bran and Dimia; I steel myself to face the crisis that lies before us.
This isn’t as simple as a game of chess. I have a renegade piece on the board that has changed the rules, and I need to regain full control. I don’t need any surprises. I don’t need free thinkers ruining this perfect plan.
Still, that’s exactly what I found on the other side of the portal.
“Welcome, Catalyst Witch. We’ve been expecting you,” The Witch of Wishes smirks at me; the gentleness of her features a contradiction of the hostility in her voice.
I don’t care about her. Her words mean nothing to me. The man beside her does, and I don’t know why he’s here.
My heart lurches inside my chest at the possibility of such betrayal.
Just a few meters away from her stands the handsome blonde man with my favourite pair of eyes standing guard.
What’s going on here?
“Faust?” I can’t hide my confusion as my heart continues to plummet into my abdomen.
What is the meaning of this?
Chapter 3
To Deceive is to be Deceived
Multi-coloured lights dance within the standing crystals behind the high seat. Luminous glasses are all that serve to give light around the vast-spaced room. In the end, the glass throne settles on a high stage with a flight of stairs.
And sitting on it is the bitch that betrayed my Mother.
The deceptive smile on her face quite matches her small gentle eyes. They’re nothing but a mask to hide the rotten, ugly core beneath.
The whole world reveres this figure; they kiss the very ground she walks, thinking the Witch of Wishes will be the one to save them from their miseries.
If anything, she will carry the world in her bare hands and deposit it into the pits of hell itself.
She does not deserve the reverence of corpses. She is nothing but a bitter witch consumed by greed and jealousy and no remorse for betraying the only person who cared for her in the world.
All that just to become a glorified slave.
Her source of power, the large pendant on her chest glimmers between the mounds of her breasts.
That does not belong to you! I want to scream as I stare at the pendant that was once draped around the neck of the woman I loved the most.
“Faust,” her sweet voice stings my ears, “please accommodate our guests.”
I watch as Faust slowly descends the staircase and silently pray that perhaps he is here to greet us after all. But as his blue eyes turned to blood, I feel everything inside me fold. His eyes never leave mine as he walks slowly towards me, seemingly in no hurry to carry out whatever treachery he’s colluded to devise. I watch him until in an instant; he vanishes from before my eyes.
For just a split second, I could sense his presence beside me in the air before he manifested behind me, and I spun around at the bellowing of overly familiar voices. I gape in horror at the scene unfolding before my eyes.
As the horrifying scenes that come after unfold, two voices from the past echo in my head when everything begins to move in slow motion. I am suddenly transported to a thousand years ago as I watch him betray our friends.
“Demon... I have a wish to make.” I had said.
The dark elf tries her best to put up a force field, but her reaction time isn’t fast enough. Blood spills in the air. Hers.
“Take my life. Take my soul after,” I continued.
“Oh. That's an interesting offer. May I know the reason behind this tempting deal?” Faust smirked.
Bran’s bullets cut through the thin air as they make their way to the only being in this world capable of finishing them off for good. If Faust kills them, there’s no hope of resurrection.
Pale hands grip the dual guns tightly as the shots miss.
“If I die, the lives of millions will be spared. No one will die beside me.”
A glimpse of his emotionless features re-appear before the vampire, and in an instant, blood spews out of Bran’s mouth.
Dimia throws a ball of fire in their direction with confidence in her accuracy.
“Hmm. I can take the deal. However, you do know that they can replace you in a heartbeat, don’t you?”
The flame barely touches Bran’s shirt as he shifts his body away. Blood continues to drip from the sorceress’s neck, but it’s not enough to keep her from fighting.
Their opponent disappears again.
“Your foolish sacrifice will just be in vain.”
Eyes dart around with panic. The sudden disappearance of the foe we all thought was a comrade fills us with anxiety. When fighting against a demon, we’re at a horrible disadvantage, especially a demon as powerful as Faust.
“Then... what should I do?” trembling lips asked.
Faust suddenly appears behind Bran. With a sidestep, the vampire narrowly escapes the agonising force that tears through the floor made with a single hand chop.
The elf hurls the shards of broken glass in his direction, but he vanishes just as suddenly as he did before.
“I have another offer... a better one,” one that would be forever… one that could change my life for eternity.
In a strained motion, Bran lifts one blood gun and shoots above. The bullets explode overhead, and crimson liquid rains down on us, selectively melting everything that is not us.
But the air is cut with a force enough to have the melting blood disintegrate before it makes contact. He knows well that having Faust as an opponent leaves him no chance.
“What is it?” I was more than ready to leave everything when I sought out the help of a demon.
This is not how it’s supposed to be. This is not a part of my plan.
Faust re-appears and grabs Bran by the throat. His golden orbs disappear to the back of his skull as his body drops motionless under the blonde’s palm.
Dimia screams her comrade’s name in pain, and in rage, summons every burning force she has and hurls it at Faust.
I try to move, but I can’t. Faust’s betrayal paralyses me and pins me to the ground.
“I’ll still take your soul, but in exchange, I'll be at your disposal. I'll fuel your desire to destroy them. Use me; however, you please.”
The dark-skinned figure of Dimia falls to the ground with soulless eyes. The smell of burnt hope and spilt blood fills the air.
Faust turns his gaze to me and slowly closes the distance between us in the room. I cannot look away. If he is going to kill me too, I want to see his eyes as he breaks my heart.
“You truly are a demon. You know how to make the best deals. That sounds way much better. I accept that deal!”
I know he can hear my thoughts. I know he knows how much his betrayal has hurt me. He has just lain to waste years of suffering and sacrifice, and for what? You can’t be the one who’s first to break the deal.
Why Faust?! I don’t even care if you kill me; I just want to know why you would betray me.
Somewhere in my heart, despite him being a demon, I thought he loved me. He had my whole heart, but I was clearly a fool to believe that I had his.
Tears well up in my eyes as I glare into those blood-red orbs. My palms are in pain as I dig my nails into them, it surges through my body, unravelling the frustrations and anger within me.
His large hand covers my eyes, and a stinging
pain starts spreading throughout my head. I cannot believe he’s going to kill me… and he isn’t even brave enough to watch the life drain from my eyes. Had I not just witnessed the carnage, I would have thought him capable of having a conscience.
“Stop”, the sound of clicking heels on the stairs slices through the dreadful silence, “we need her awake.”
Faust stands back to give way for the other Witch of Wishes.
“Meghan my dear,” her red lips reach for her ears, making the blue blush in her cheeks apparent. “It’s been a while since we last saw each other,” Catrain says as she tries to feign a warm look with her heavily coated lids.
My eyes fall to the blue crystal in her pendant, something that reminds me of the last time we’re in each other’s presence. I was only ten years old back then.
“Hmm. You’re not very happy to see me are you?” she smiles, then turns to face Faust, “Oh I’m quite certain you’re not at all pleased to see him here with me.”
My hatred for her and my brokenness for him seal my lips.
“I know you had your own little plan and you thought you had the upper hand here, but that kind of thinking will only get you killed my dear. Not that we’ll let you die of course,” she takes steps closer to me until our gazes are levelled, “You are an invaluable asset, after all. Nothing can replace you. Still… accidents do happen.”
Her cold boney fingers touch my cheek and trace a line along my jaw. One of her pointed nails tears a shallow cut as she does. I feel the blood trickle down my face.
“Well,” she clasps her hands, “if you’re going to behave like the good girl you are, there’ll be no problems leaving you unbounded, what do you say?”
Oh, there’s a lot I wish to say, but I think it’s best to remain silent. I don’t know this new game we’re playing. I haven’t yet figured out the rules. When I woke up this morning, I was in love with a creature who had been loyal to me over the years. The man who had somehow gone against his nature when falling for me. Now it’s been revealed to me, most violently that I have been a fool and a pawn, not the Queen I thought myself to be. I need to figure out how I can get out of this without anyone else getting killed for my folly. If Faust lets me live I will.
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