Witch Queen

by Kim Richardson

  Immediately I was hit by an invisible barrier. Torak slowed and shook his head. The air was thin, and I found it hard to breathe. My ears popped, and then I heard the familiar loud buzzing that I had heard in Gray Havens. My teeth chattered, and my entire body shook as I came under the spell of the mountain’s magic. But then the atmosphere settled until the humming became a faint whisper, and I could breathe normally again.

  Magic. A month ago I would have panicked. But now, even Torak kept moving like it was nothing to have breached a magical barrier together. I was proud of my warhorse. He was truly a spectacular beast. The magical barrier would have been enough to scare away the bravest of warriors. It was a test of valor and strength of mind, and it would certainly deter those who weren’t suited for the witch realm.

  I looked over my shoulder to see if any of my men had bolted at the first sign of magic. But they hadn’t. They were all right behind me. They looked decidedly uneasy, but I was proud of them. I knew this had been a difficult task for each of them.

  When we were all across the barrier, Fawkes turned his elk around, and with a flick of his wrist he closed the entrance to the pass behind us.

  “It’s a three-day ride from here,” he said quietly.

  His eyes darted to each of the men.

  “If we don’t stop unnecessarily we can make it in two. And keep quiet.”

  Something dark flashed across his face as his gaze moved to the peaks above us.

  “Don’t speak unless it’s absolutely necessary. If you must speak, make it quick and only a whisper. Your life depends on it. Voices carry in the pass. There are worse things than revenants that live deep in the mountains. We don’t want to wake them.”

  I had opened my mouth to ask him what things, but Fawkes had already started to move again.

  The pass was mostly sand and rock, but as we ventured deeper we crossed tiny streams and soggy meadows that were thick with wildflowers, butterflies and birds. The horses would have food.

  The chiseled rock and peaks that surrounded us shimmered for a moment, and I could almost see the magic rippling over them like a layer of mist. The mountains were alive with magic. I was sure of it. I imagined glowering eyes and grimacing mouths, monsters who could send down giant boulders to crush us if they wanted. I prayed they didn’t.

  I didn’t know what to expect when we reached the capital, Lunaris. But one thing was for sure; I wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms. I wasn’t that naïve. My mother had left Witchdom, and I’m sure it was for a good reason. There was so much I wanted to learn about my blood magic, about my mother, and why she had left. Something compelled me to find out.

  I let out a shuddering breath and hoped Fawkes hadn’t heard. We had managed this far. We had crossed Arcania and lived. There were still so many obstacles to overcome, but I was filled with a sense of hope. Hope that the witches would help us defeat the high priests. Hope that I could save Jon, that I would save him.

  We rode in silence. I could see Fawkes searching the mountains carefully, and I scanned the areas, too. But I didn’t see or hear anything unusual, only the echoing of hooves on hard granite rock. What was he looking for? What was it that lived in the mountains? But whenever we stopped, only the glorious sounds of thickets full of birds, hawks screaming in the sky, and the click of insects offered a reply.

  And yet I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we were being watched.

  The feeling persisted that night when we traveled by moonlight, but I could see nothing in the rocky cliffs. We finally stopped and set up camp. It was bitterly cold, and I was grateful that the mountains shielded us from the icy winds I could hear screaming beyond the pass. I shivered despite myself. I hadn’t packed a winter coat or thick wool leggings. There hadn’t been time, and I didn’t have the money to buy them anyway.

  Once I finished getting Torak fed, watered, and settled for the night, I looked for Fawkes’ fire so I could warm my fingers and toes. My smile faded when I spotted him sitting in his usual cross-legged position on the ground, but with no sign of a fire in sight.

  I made my way over to him and whispered tentatively, “Why aren’t you making a fire?”

  “We can’t risk it,” he said. His tone was hushed but final.

  I studied his face.

  “The men are probably freezing. It’s not like we had the coin to buy proper clothes for this kind of weather. Can’t we risk just a small smokeless fire?”

  “No.”

  Fawkes’ eyes were black. “If you light a fire, you’ll kill all your humans. Is that what you want?”

  He shrugged. “Personally, I couldn’t care less about a bunch of worthless humans. The Goddess knows we’d be better off without them. But you—you care. You’ve made it so bloody obvious. It’s simple. Light a fire, and they die. Your choice.”

  I balled my hands into fists.

  “You can be a real prick sometimes.”

  I turned on my heel before he had time to reply, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t. I knew he was right. It would have been foolish to light a fire. We’d just have to bear the cold for a couple more days.

  As I approached the men, I could see that Nugar was attempting to start a fire. I could see the mist from their breaths and the way they rubbed their hands and arms. They were cold. I knew what I had to tell them.

  I rushed forward and grabbed Nugar’s wrist.

  “We can’t make a fire,” I whispered.

  His scowl was enough to frighten any man, let alone a young woman, but I kept my hand on his wrist and squeezed tighter. “There’s something in the mountains. Creatures, maybe, but dangerous enough to kill us. Fawkes says if we make a fire, we die.”

  I didn’t mention that Fawkes had said only the humans would die, not all of us.

  “So, we’re going to freeze to death,” mumbled Lucas as he hugged himself.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped. I let go of Nugar.

  “It’s not cold enough for that.”

  I remembered to lower my voice. “We’ll just have to figure out other ways to keep warm.”

  We were silent for a few moments.

  “Maybe we should all hug? I hear body heat can warm just as much as a fire.”

  Will’s stupid boyish smile was too much, and I laughed out loud, but I quieted down as I saw Fawkes’ glare in the darkness.

  I lowered myself to the ground and whispered, “How about we sit for a while and pretend there’s a roaring fire?”

  And that’s what we did.

  We ate our meals of dried meat, nuts, and the few apples Nugar had somehow managed to find in the woods. We shared stories of back home, and of our plans once things went back to normal. There was a familiarity in the way the men spoke to one another, like they had all been childhood friends. I didn’t understand the pang in my chest until I realized that their familiarity reminded me of my relationship with Jon.

  I could feel Fawkes’ eyes on me. I could feel his disapproval that I would choose to sit with humans and not with him. I figured I’d let Fawkes stew in his own juices for a while. It might be good for him. The truth was, I didn’t believe in excluding folks, magic or not. One could argue that it was because I had been born in the Pit and had starved and been excluded from a life of luxury. But it was more than that.

  Being divided just created more problems. It never solved them.

  We’d forgotten Fawkes’ warning that we needed to be quiet as we chatted happily with each other. I had relaxed and had ignored the eerie feeling that we were being watched. By the time I’d realized our mistake, it was already too late.

  Dozens of shadowy figures had begun to climb down from the mountains.

  CHAPTER 14

  A COLD CHILL RAN up the back of my neck. Every nerve in my body was on end. We had woken the mountain’s creatures.

  They waited with their backs pressed up against the edges of the cliffs. Their pale, veiny, and hairless gray skin shone in the moonlight like thick leather. With gangly muscled l
imbs, the things were a horrendous combination of humanoid and bat bodies. They were naked, sexless, and for the moment very still. Layers of extra skin hung under their arms and connected with their abdomens like bat wings. Sharp talons sprouted from their fingers and toes. The mountain’s energy resonated louder, as though in approval of these creatures.

  As a cloud parted from the moon, I saw their faces and stifled a scream.

  They were creatures from nightmares. They had no eyes, no mouth, no nose. Instead of faces, their skin was pulled tightly over their haggard skulls, over what could have once been faces. They were the most frightening and horrifying things I’d ever seen, and my bowels turned watery.

  Goddess protect us.

  There were so many. I counted twenty of the bald and faceless creatures on both sides of the pass, but those were only the ones I could see. We were surrounded.

  Fawkes stood next to me. His features were hard and sharp in the light of the moon, but I couldn’t read his face.

  “What are they?” I whispered. I slipped my short sword free from its sheath, and I could see the men around me reach for their weapons, too.

  “Familiars,” said Fawkes, his voice low. “Magical entities. Guardians of the pass and of the Mystic Mountains. They keep humans from accidentally crossing into Witchdom, but mostly they keep the witches from leaving.”

  Were these the things he was hoping we’d avoid?

  “Are they blind?” My voice was rushed, and I prayed to the Goddess that they were.

  “If you mean that they don’t have eyes, then yes, they are blind. But they can see you well enough with other ways.”

  Fawkes drew his long sword. Its silver glinted in the light, and I could make out elegant writing etched along the blade and hilt.

  Fawkes saw my confusion and said, “Familiars are magical creatures, and they are extremely resistant to any defensive magic.”

  He paused, looking tired. “My magic will not stop them.”

  I caught a trace of fear in the faces of the men, but it was quickly replaced by hard determination as they each took a defensive stance. My chest fell. I hoped Fawkes was as skilled with his sword as he was with his magic.

  In silence, the men watched the familiars and tried to take the measure of this new enemy. Even in the darkness I could see a sneer spread across Nugar’s bearded face. Leo and Will shared a sidelong glance, their shoulders taut. Lucas crouched in a defensive stance and eyed the familiars warily. Even in the cold, the men’s faces shone with sweat.

  My breathing came rapidly as I tried to overcome my own fears. I felt my clothes stick to my back.

  The familiars cocked their heads, and an eerie hissing escaped them. A leeching cold crept under my skin. I started trembling and gripped my sword in my sweaty palm.

  “Why aren’t they attacking us?” Leo’s voice was steady, but he looked up at the cliffs nervously.

  “They’re assessing us,” said Fawkes. His eyes didn’t leave the creatures on the cliffs. “To see who they choose to let live…but most probably to see who they want to kill first.”

  The familiars had no eyes, and yet I felt their hungry glares on us.

  Fawkes whirled on me. “I told you to be quiet,” he hissed. “I won’t risk your life for the lives of these humans. If they get caught, leave them. Because I will!”

  I shot him a withering glare. “You’re just a coldhearted ass. Even now—”

  “Familiars!” Fawkes’ voice rang in the pass. “We are witches, born of magic like you. We seek passage to Witchdom. Do you grant us safe passage to our homeland?”

  He took a careful step forward and shielded the men with his body. His hair billowed and shimmered like a cape of liquid emeralds.

  With the sound like leather crackling near a fire, the familiars swayed and moved their heads, studying us. I didn’t know how long we stood there, waiting. I remained still, but my heart thrashed in my chest. I felt inclined to run for our horses and take our chances.

  I refused to be beaten now, when Witchdom was so close I could almost feel it. I clenched my fingers around my sword. Let these pale bastards come. I was ready for them.

  The next moment I experienced the strange sensation of icy rain falling down the back of my neck. I felt a terrible chill, but it wasn’t raining. The looks of confusion and fear on the men’s faces told me that they were experiencing it, too.

  Fawkes didn’t even flinch.

  I could see more pale shapes shamble down the mountain’s sides.

  The hissing escalated. And then as one, the familiars pushed themselves off the cliffs.

  My breath caught as these faceless creatures rained down on us. There were too many to count. The flapping and crinkling of leather surrounded us as they hovered and dropped. They landed in a circle, trapping us in.

  “Get to the horses!” Fawkes’ warning was too late. Six familiars landed ten feet from us and blocked our way to the horses.

  “They’re coming up from behind!” shouted Will.

  I spun around, and my blood went cold. A great big heap of ten ghastly specters sprang at us.

  Everyone scattered, and the pass was filled with the hack of swords on flesh and steel on bone.

  My blood turned from ice-cold to raging hot, and I forgot about Fawkes and the others. It was just me and those pale bastards.

  The one closest to me cocked his head and lunged forward. I was so disgusted by the thin, flesh-like wings that fell like excess skin beneath its arms that I just stood there and stared, but not for long.

  An animal rage escaped me, and I bared my teeth and growled as I met the creature with a swing of my sword. But the familiar shifted to the left with unnatural speed, and I missed it. At the same moment, it feinted a high cutting stroke with its taloned hand and slashed its other hand towards my knees.

  White-hot pain seared through my right knee. I hissed and stumbled back. I could feel warm liquid trickling down my lower leg. Although the creature had no mouth, I could feel it smiling, taunting me. It had injured me on purpose.

  But why not just kill me and get it over with? It wanted to play with me first.

  It beat its skin-like wings, shot into the air, and came for me. I shifted to the side just as it landed. I was still limping, but I could feel my magic healing my knee and feeding me with renewed strength.

  The familiar lunged again, and I barely avoided its razor-sharp talons. I twisted and ducked, barely escaping, but I felt a tug on my cloak.

  That was too close.

  I spun as the creature thrashed at me. Its face was so close that it chilled my body, but my movements were fluid and silent. I wasn’t blessed with magic for nothing.

  I blocked every strike, every slash. My movements had become so quick that they would have been a blur to any human or creature. I realized that I was getting better at this—at killing. As my confidence built, I attacked faster and thrashed harder.

  The familiar spotted an opening and slashed at my left heel.

  I staggered and fell. I cried out and nearly vomited at the sight of my blood. The thing had torn right through the leather of my boot. It was probably the only thing that had kept it from reaching bone.

  Golden light spilled from the tear in my boot, but the familiar didn’t seem to notice.

  I had enough strength to stand. My eyes never wavered from the creature.

  Witches are not permitted to leave the homeland, but if they do, they can never enter again. An ancient, hollow voice echoed inside my head.

  The homeland is sacred. The homeland is power. Those who leave, we devour.

  “I never left,” I spat.

  I supported my weight with my right leg and called to the familiar.

  “I’m not from Witchdom. I’m from the Pit, from Anglia. We don’t want any trouble. We just want to get across the pass. But if you won’t let us through, you’re all going to die. I can promise you that.”

  I hoped the thing couldn’t read into my bluff.

  Th
e familiar tossed its head back as though in a laugh.

  A lost witch is a dead witch. Magic is power. Blood is better.

  “I’ll kill you before you get a chance to taste my blood,” I growled, not knowing how it could actually taste my blood without a mouth. Bile rose at the back of my throat at the thought.

  In a defensive stance, I gripped my sword, expecting the creature to attack me again.

  But it stood still for a moment, its head lowered, watching me without eyes. And then its skin brightened and cast a soft glow. It flicked its taloned hands towards me in the same way Fawkes had done when he had used his fire magic on me.

  I halted mid-step when I realized it had just cast a spell on me.

  The magic hit me like a jolt of energy and left me gasping and shaking. I was so cold that my teeth chattered. It wasn’t the soothing, tingling warmth of Fawkes’ magic. It was cold and hot, and it stung me like a thousand deadly Anglian wasps. My vision blurred so that all I could see was a vague shimmering. My heart thumped in my throat, and I feared the worst. The magic engulfed me with a smell of sour milk and vinegar so strong that my eyes watered. I felt the magic move inside my body like a cold breeze.

  It was a breeze with the energy of a thunderstorm. My limbs stiffened, and I felt as though I was made of metal. I willed myself to move, to speak, but nothing moved, not even my lips. It was like the paralysis I had felt when the man from the Order of the Stones had poisoned me with hemlock. Tears welled in my eyes, but I couldn’t blink them away from my paralyzed cheeks.

  I looked at the faceless creature. Surely it would kill me now. I was horrified, frightened, but my body did not shake. The men had no defense against this magic either. The familiars were going to taunt them until they decided to kill us all.

  We’d never make it to Witchdom. The hammering of my heart was the only thing that moved.

  But then I felt a tingling, and my body began to free itself from its magic hold. I could feel that the spell was broken.

  I smiled despite my fear, but I didn’t have time to think about what had just happened. Before the familiar could try another enchantment, I had already moved out of the way.