Shadow Witch

by Isla Frost

  I had stepped through that runegate, strived to succeed in every trial, and walked willingly into the transformation chamber with three goals in mind.

  One, to pay the blood price for my family to live out their lives in relative safety.

  Two, to protect Ameline from whatever we’d face.

  And three, to save future generations and families from the horror of having to sacrifice their firstborn child for the others’ survival. To save them from the brutal marring of what should be a joyous celebration of new birth. From living under the heavy shadow of guilt and grief. And to save the firstborns from their uncertain fates.

  But I hadn’t known the looming threat of the Malus then.

  What if my hope for a brighter future was impossible? What if the best thing I could do for the good of humankind was to let the walkers take this terrible magic from me? I knew it was brazen to dream that I might achieve peace, redemption, freedom. But what if my striving wrought only devastation instead?

  It was one thing to risk myself. I’d been raised as a sacrifice. I’d been prepared to hand over my life to the unknown holders of the Agreement so that my family might survive, thrive even.

  But now I was playing in an arena far larger than the one I’d imagined. With stakes greater than I could comprehend.

  If the walkers were to be believed…

  My sheets were a tangled mess from all my tossing and turning before sleep at last claimed me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I woke up cold. Apparently the pygmy griffin had opened the window in the middle of the night to sit on the sill and survey the darkness. It was just as well Bryn kept our room so hot as a matter of course, or we might all have turned into human Popsicles by morning. Ameline promised to communicate our human need for warmth and security to him and find another avenue for his late-night energies.

  My loyal and overprotective friends flanked me to every class and every trip to the bathroom. We lugged our weapons around with us like we were living in some kind of medieval adventure tale.

  It was kind of embarrassing.

  Worse, it meant Gus could make disparaging comments all day long whenever the mood struck him.

  Which was often.

  I felt and saw Ellbereth’s gaze on me numerous times, but she didn’t try anything. Not yet.

  Then it was time for Advanced Magic.

  I shoved my friends inside the classroom (it helped that Ellbereth was already there), assuring them that Theus would guard my back and hoping I was telling the truth.

  Not only because the forest was dangerous. But because it struck me that an hour walking through it alone offered an excellent opportunity for Ellbereth or those who felt the same way she did to ambush me where help would not come.

  Theus was waiting on the lawn, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  “Thank you for being here,” I said.

  He smiled, the expression lighting up his often somber features. “My pleasure.”

  Damn, I didn’t want to return his kindness with betrayal.

  Together, we passed the hedge cats and stepped into the forest.

  Yesterday I’d traipsed around for an hour and only attracted a single fleeting attack. Today I’d barely pulled Gus from his sheath when a deep, rippling snarl from multiple throats made all the hair stand up on my arms.

  I used my second sight to narrow in on the threat and saw a blazing light stalking our way.

  Theus stepped behind me. “If you’d like my assistance, just ask.”

  My head snapped around in disbelief, but only for the briefest of moments—because I didn’t dare lose track of the approaching energy. Damn walker pride! And yet a part of me—a foolish part—did want to see if I could face this alone.

  I had a fancy new weapon, didn’t I? And magic that meant I only had to get a single cut in before I could drain the predator’s life force.

  Then the creature emerged from the trees, and I took it all back.

  The form was that of a shaggy black wolf. Except it was huge, easily larger than a cart horse, and mounted on its muscular shoulders were three savage heads.

  Each wolf head was big enough to use me as a chew toy, and the unwanted image of being seized by all three of them and torn limb from limb flashed through my brain. Blood glinted red on their white fangs, making that fate even easier to imagine. And when I finally tore my gaze from those bloodstained fangs and the three sets of amber lupine eyes that were locked on me, I noticed the tail.

  It was not a wolf’s tail.

  It was longer for a start, arching above the monster’s back to aim forward, which meant I could see it clearly. The shaggy black fur petered out, morphing into the chitinous segments and vicious spear-like stinger of a scorpion.

  I swallowed. Then attempted to bolster my courage by recalling my father’s lesson that the smaller the scorpion, the worse the poison. Maybe the same rule of thumb would apply here and I’d barely feel it.

  Yeah right.

  Behind me, Theus murmured, “The stinger will cause immediate excruciating pain. Avoid it if you can.”

  Fabulous.

  The creature stalked toward me, its legs bent to keep its belly low to the ground—as if it were possible I hadn’t already spotted the enormous predator bearing down on me.

  It was all I could do to stand my ground.

  Damn. I knew I should’ve chosen a long-range weapon.

  That reminded me of my dagger. It was my fifth in three months, but I was practiced at throwing it. I reached for where I kept the handy weapon strapped to my thigh.

  “I wouldn’t bother,” Theus said. “Its pelt is too thick and wiry for a thrown blade to land.”

  That wasn’t great news, but I only needed to draw blood. Maybe I’d get a lucky shot into one of the wolf beast’s eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d managed a throw like that, and my odds had to be better than average since it had six of them.

  The monster sensed my hesitation. Took it as an invitation. Because it switched its creeping advance into a ground-eating trot.

  I abandoned my dagger and took a two-handed grip on Gus.

  I suppose this would be a good time to tell you that my religion is against killing.

  If the monster hadn’t been speeding toward me, I might’ve dropped the sword in shock.

  “Are you serious? You didn’t think to mention this before I lugged you around all day and I’m about to become monster food?”

  It seems more pertinent now.

  I growled in my throat.

  Neither the monster nor the sword were daunted by it.

  “I thought you said your name meant Illustrious Slayer of All That Must Be Smote!”

  Well, I didn’t choose it. Besides, beings change over millennia, you know.

  I dove around the trunk of a large tree to buy time, cussing under my breath with every expletive I’d ever heard.

  Neither the monster nor the sword were daunted by that either.

  The beast padded up to the other side of the tree and paused. A moment later, one wolf’s snarling maw snapped inches from my left shoulder while a second set of white fangs snapped a hair’s breadth from my right.

  Hell’s breath.

  I was going to die unless my sword would cooperate.

  But… I didn’t need Gus to kill the creature. Merely make it bleed so that my magic could take over.

  “What does your religion say about hurting?” I asked, leaping backward to avoid another lunge by the head on the left.

  That’s fine.

  Ugh. “You could’ve led with that information!”

  The monster was growing impatient of my little game. Faster than I thought possible, it savaged the trunk with all three of its heads, sending splinters of green wood flying. It would tear through the entire tree in a few more seconds.

  A little surer my blade wouldn’t sabotage me, I used the beast’s brief distraction to dart forward and slash at the nearest unprotected p
aw.

  I sliced off a claw, but no blood dripped from the wound.

  Great. I’d just trimmed the monster’s toenails.

  The great beast roared, apparently not appreciating the manicure. The sound was so loud it set my body quivering like a harp string and muted the rest of the world. As an added bonus, despite the remnant of tree trunk still between us, I copped an onslaught of dog breath to the face. It smelled of blood and decay and… blueberries.

  The damaged trunk cracked. Then the entire tree began to lean alarmingly to the right.

  I dove and rolled in the opposite direction, leaf litter swirling around me.

  “What if your wielder is in a situation where it’s kill or be killed?” I asked my pain-in-the-ass pointy companion.

  Lucky Gus spoke directly into my head as my ears were no longer working properly.

  Depends who I like more, he said.

  Well that was reassuring. I had the distinct feeling that winning over Gus, the Pestiferous Slayer of None, would be even more challenging than convincing Millicent I was worth befriending.

  I heard that, he grumbled. You’re not such a desirable companion yourself.

  The tree smashed to the earth with a tremendous crashing and cracking of limbs that even my damaged eardrums could hear, and then the monster was once more stalking toward me.

  I raised my blade. “And how are you predisposed toward this three-headed wolf thing? Might I point out that if I die, it’ll leave you in the woods to rot.”

  I wouldn’t rot.

  “Consider it a figure of speech.”

  Retreat was getting me nowhere. I had to stand and fight, relying on the magic of my weapon and my intermediate-at-best footwork to draw blood without dying first.

  Or I could ask Theus to rescue me. I hadn’t seen him since I’d first laid eyes on the monster, but I assumed he was still around.

  But to ask for help now was to give up without even trying.

  I angled my body at the oncoming beast, abruptly glad I’d chosen a longer sword. Perhaps I could keep just enough distance between me and the three heads to retain all my limbs.

  I slashed as the central head lunged, lips curled back to reveal every one of its teeth. It evaded my blade with the lightning-fast reflexes of… well, a magical monster, and I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved it feared my sword or concerned I’d never get close enough to land a blow.

  The head on the left lunged before I’d finished my swing, and I danced back to give myself the fraction of a second I needed to reverse my strike. Neither the monster nor I drew blood. This time. But I was expending a helluva lot more energy to keep it that way. And it was driving me backward without giving me a chance to look over my shoulder.

  Sooner or later I would trip over an unseen obstacle or my speed would be eroded by fatigue.

  You’re never going to get the chance to practice your magic if you merely defend yourself, my sword pointed out unhelpfully. Why don’t you just slash the creature and suck out its life force already?

  I darted back again as the right head dove at my unprotected side. It was like fighting three opponents at once.

  “Trying!” I yelled, slashing at each of the snarling heads to buy myself another second of life. Dammit, all I had to do was nick the darn thing! But it was hard to get around all three sets of snapping jaws, and anytime I got close, I saw the freaking stinger hovering above, ready to strike.

  Call me crazy, but I wasn’t stoked about the idea of instantaneous agony.

  Gus was right though. The jerk. I had to take the offensive, had to risk a hole in my own defense to give me a chance of wounding the beast, or I’d lose this fight anyway.

  So I backed up a few more steps while I waited for an opening. Then threw myself at the monster.

  My plan was to dive under the beast’s three heads, between its front legs, to the relatively safe position beneath its belly. In my experience, few creatures could back up at anywhere near the same speed as they could go forward. And I would need those few precious seconds to drain its life force.

  Assuming I could.

  What actually happened was the creature tore off a chunk of my dominant sword arm on the way through, causing me to drop Gus as the limb flopped uselessly at my side. The pain almost made me pass out, but I remembered my dagger, and reaching awkwardly to my right pocket, I snatched it up and drove it into the beast’s belly.

  The wiry fur turned aside my thrust, but the point came back red.

  A heavy paw smacked into me as the monster backed up. I flattened myself to the ground to present a smaller target and focused on my second sight.

  It wasn’t hard to see the beast’s life force. It was harder not to be blinded by it this close.

  I pulled at the glowing energy.

  The monster seemed to pull back. A resistance I hadn’t encountered with the flum.

  I tugged harder, desperation spurring me on as one of the wolf heads snapped at my defenseless body in the physical realm.

  And suddenly I was transformed. The life force slammed into my body like a felled tree. Except a happy, wondrous tree.

  It was like the one time I’d tried coffee only magnified about a thousand times.

  The beast collapsed at my feet, the amber eyes abruptly lifeless.

  And I realized I was standing. My sword retrieved and raised in victory. By an arm that was completely healed.

  That was when the three-headed wolf monster’s mate showed up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The second and very alive wolf-scorpion monster was one and a half times the size of the first.

  Yet with its mate’s energy coursing through my veins, I felt no fear. Every cell and nerve ending was alive and singing. My vision was clearer. My lungs felt like I was inhaling the freshest mountain air after a heavy rain. And this new beast seemed slower than the last. Perhaps due to its greater size.

  I rotated my wrist, admiring Gus’s wicked blade sweeping through the dappled sunlight.

  “Come and get me, big guy,” I invited under my breath.

  The monster came to get me.

  A faint breeze stirred against my teeth, and I realized I was smiling. I crouched, readying myself to spring, and waited for the rushing beast.

  When it was close enough that I caught a whiff of its breath, I leaped. Landed precisely between the creature’s shoulder blades. And cleaved off all three of its heads in a single sweep of my blade.

  Blood spattered my face and clothes as the headless body stumbled and fell. Everything happened so fast I didn’t have time to consider taking its life force too.

  Then Theus was there, his eyes wide. “Stars and suns, that was… something. How do you feel?”

  I took stock, puzzled by his reaction. Until my thoughts caught up with my body’s actions.

  I had just leaped eight feet high to land with perfect precision upon a charging predator’s back and then lopped off three heads in one stroke. No matter how slow the monster had been, that was impossible.

  And now as I watched Theus, who also appeared to be moving more slowly than usual, I wondered if it wasn’t everyone else who’d slowed down but me who’d sped up.

  I was panting but unharmed despite the savage wound I’d taken a few minutes prior. And energy still buzzed beneath my skin like a million wasps that wouldn’t be ignored. Except good wasps.

  I didn’t know how I felt about that. Didn’t know how to answer Theus’s question.

  Slowly I wiped the blood from my face, wondering if I’d need to bathe my skin in milk and honey too.

  Which was when I remembered.

  “Um, sorry, Gus. I know you said your religion was against killing…”

  Did swords even have religions? Who founded them? Propagated them? Could Gus speak to other weapons?

  Yes, well, he said, sounding reluctantly impressed. That was a feat worthy of an exception.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The bells chimed before I’d had a chance to
collect myself. And when Theus and I returned to the academy grounds, we found everyone assembled on the lawn at the edge of the perfectly round lake.

  I glanced down at my uniform, which was soaked liberally in blood, and felt my stomach turn over. Looks like I wouldn’t get a chance to change.

  Resigned, I joined Bryn and Ameline, whose eyes widened at my state (even the pygmy griffin appraised me with uncommon interest). But there was no time for conversation.

  All the teachers were out here with us, and the only times that had happened before were for the life-and-death trials that had required a lot of magic to set up. I’d thought we were done with those.

  Apparently not.

  Dunraven raised his voice, and everyone fell silent to listen.

  “On your first day at the academy, we told you that walkers and humans would be expected to work together.” He let his gaze pass over each of us and then grimaced. “So far, this has been met with only the most feeble of efforts. From this day forward, that has to change.”

  My eyes flicked to Theus and Lirielle. I didn’t mind working with them. But I couldn’t imagine anything “changing” with the likes of Ellbereth.

  “Make no mistake,” Dunraven continued, “on the battlefield, you will live or die by the cohesion of your unit. And this world will live or die by your unit’s efficacy. So you must leave your differences, your grievances, and your history behind and learn to trust one another. Because your life and that of others will depend on the faces you see around you today.”

  I realized then why in all our trials we had never fought one another. Competed, yes, but never fought.

  “That interdependency and trust starts now.”

  At this pronouncement, the surface of the lake trembled and then the water level started dropping. Rapidly.

  It was soon apparent that the sides of the lake were no more natural than its too-perfect shape. Smooth ivory-colored stone walls revealed themselves as the water drained away. Lower and lower until the smooth surface altered into stylized carvings of battle scenes. Some sort of trailing waterweed with small star-shaped leaves clung to the rock here and there, but aside from that, the ivory walls were strangely clean.