In the Witching Hour

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In the Witching Hour Page 15

by Неизвестный


  Only she couldn’t let him know that or he would feed her to them for sure and there wouldn’t be so much as a skeleton left of her to hang on someone’s door as a Halloween decoration.

  "Ha! I r-ride sharks for fun."

  Great! Freezing, her teeth had shattered making her sound terrified.

  "You deserve one last hoorah then. Enjoy!" He flung her into the wind. "Bye-bye baby," he crooned in a deep bass.

  "You bastar--!" She crashed into the water so hard, she almost lost consciousness.

  The roiling waves battered her around, pushing her under with their icy cold fingers. She struggled to stay atop the deadly water, to gulp in precious air, but it was like riding a slippery mad bull. But she was no match for 100 mph winds and driving rain, and she was dragged under into the murky depths. Crushed under tons of water, inertia claimed her limbs and she was tossed about by the relentless current.

  Fate wouldn’t let her die in Jason’s arms.

  So cruel.

  So heartbreaking.

  Jason’s image wavered before her failing eyesight as her lids grew unbearably heavy. A sad smile curled her lips and she reached out to touch him one last time. To her dismay, her movement erased the mirage.

  "Jason!" Water rushed into her mouth and she began to choke. As she felt her life draining from her, a pair of black beady eyes hurtled toward her, horrifying her.

  * * * *

  Frantic to find Meghan before time ran out for either of them, Jason scoured the globe. Scrying had pointed him at the vast Atlantic basin, which was a virtual sheet of rain.

  His heart skipped several beats when he found her underwater, a bite away from a killer shark. His fury raging forth, he vanquished the sea fiend and scooped his beloved into his arms and orbed her to the witches.

  He had many powers, but healing wasn’t in his arsenal. Laying her down reverently before Betina, he made his humble request, "She’s dying. Please save her."

  Betina laid her hands over Meghan’s heart and frowned. "I shall try, but my efforts may be for naught as we have not yet accomplished our mission. It may be much kinder to let her be, spare her further pain."

  How he wished he could be so altruistic. He would give his life for her, but he couldn’t watch her die again and not try to save her. He gazed deeply into the old woman’s compassionate eyes. "As long as there is life, there is hope. Please save her."

  "I don’t know that my powers are strong enough, but I shall try. Stand back and be still so I can channel all my energies." Betina looked up and a gentle smile played about her lips. "Join me, Sherena and Therena. Come, too, Lucy, to represent your family and add your love to the mix. Our magic is stronger combined. Help me save this innocent."

  Lucy and the twins came forward and the group formed a circle around Meghan. They held hands, closed their eyes, and began chanting over the dying woman.

  For a miracle, he’d make a deal with God.

  Instead, Balberith’s fanatical laughter spewed over him. "Tsk tsk. It’s folly to fall in love with mortals. You can’t win. They expire so fast. It’s time to pay your debt."

  "Greedy son of a bitch." Rage roared through Jason and he lunged at the monster responsible for Meghan’s condition. "You’ve got to be stopped."

  "You and what army?" Balberith glanced at the witches disdainfully. "Your new friends?"

  The demon master held up his hand and a green light glowed from it, paralyzing him.

  * * * *

  Meghan awoke just in time to witness Balberith’s demand. Full-strength flowed through her veins and she bolted up. "You can’t take him till the last stroke of midnight tonight."

  All Hallows Eve.

  Balberith growled, baring his teeth. "He’s not bonded with his soul mate so he’s mine. Read the contract, paragraph five, section two. In black and white."

  "Bonded?" Perplexed, her forehead furrowed.

  "Marriage. And your witches’ ceremonies don’t suffice. Hissing, the witches encircled them, Sherena and Therena leading the way.

  Lucy pushed through the crowd and cleared her throat. She pointed to herself and then tilted her head at Meg and Jason.

  "Be gone with you demon!" Betina threw white light at Balberith which hurled him against the wall.

  Balberith fell to the floor in a heap. "Destroy me and he’s sucked into the void. He’ll be imprisoned for eternity."

  Meghan joined her love and clasped his hand. Looking at the awful creature, she asked, "If I marry him before the last stroke of midnight, we’re free?"

  "Yes, but you only have one minute left...."

  Lucy faced Meghan and Jason. "Hold hands. Now, do you Meghan Francesca Lenihan, take this man, Lord Jason Althorp as your lawfully wedded husband, till death do you part?"

  Meghan glanced shyly at her almost husband and nodded. Thrills shot through her when Jason squeezed her hand. Everything was so surreal. So right. "I do."

  Balberith frowned. "You can’t do this."

  Lucy turned her gaze on Jason ignoring the demon master and continued. "Do you Lord Jason...."

  "Rupert," he supplied, grinning widely.

  The clock struck midnight and Meghan sucked in her breath, willing Lucy to rush the lifesaving ceremony.

  "Lord Jason Rupert Althorp, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To hold and to cherish till death do you part?"

  "I do. But for all eternity." Jason rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her pulse points, warming her all over.

  "Please kiss the bride and seal the union." Lucy glowed with pride, and folded her hands before her.

  Jason smiled and gathered Meg into his arms, kissing her thoroughly, making her toes curl.

  Lucy finished as the last stroke of midnight tolled, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

  Laughing, Balberith pointed to Jason. "Good try but you are mine. Back into the demon realm, slave.

  When Jason didn’t disappear, a stunned expression spread across Balberith’s face. "You shouldn’t still be here."

  "The marriage is legal and binding," Lucy said, smiling widely. "I’m a Justice of the Peace."

  Jason released Meg’s hand and flung a fireball at their enemy. "Nor should you."

  The fireball struck Balberith full in the chest and a look of disbelief flashed across his face. He went up in a puff of flame, and then turned to ash.

  Sir Wesley and Irving popped into the chamber. "You won’t believe what just happened," they echoed in chorus, stunned incredulity etched on their faces.

  Jason curled his arm around Meg’s waist and drew her against his side. "Let me take a wild guess. The hurricanes disappeared in the blink of an eye, the volcanoes stopped boiling, and the earth stopped quaking."

  "I told you he was psychic," Irving whispered loudly to Sir Wesley.

  Meg grinned up at her groom with adoration and stood on tiptoe as she pressed a kiss to his oh-so-inviting lips. "The only wild thing I ever want to see again is my beast. In private."

  Fire flamed in Jason’s eyes and his horns peeked out over his hair. He wiggled them at her evocatively. "I think that can be arranged."

  Meg wrinkled her nose at him. "I said in private."

  "What exotic location do you want to honeymoon in, my love?" Jason savored her lips, his warm and intoxicating against hers.

  Exotic was the last thing she wanted or needed after their adventure. "Somewhere private and uneventful. We’ll make our own excitement."

  A primitive growl rumbled through his chest and he orbed her to the moon. "Is this private enough?"

  Amazed that she could breathe despite the absence of atmosphere and by the splendor of the universe spread out before her, she twirled giddily until he caught her in his embrace. "Absolutely perfect!"

  Awe-struck, she pointed at Earth and marveled, "The clouds are so fluffy and white. The oceans are so sparkling blue."

  "That means everything is right with the universe, Lady Althorp."

  In other words, no more Halloween pl
anet. The demons and witches were in balance once more … at least till the next October.

  She hoped.

  The End

  The Sacrifice

  By

  S.A. Martin

  PART I: The Challenge

  "You must leave the village tonight, Briana. You must not tarry."

  Briana clasped her hands and studied her foster mother across the oaken table. A tremendous swell of affection for the woman rose inside her, coupled with the sorrow that she must leave her. "Are you sure about this? Could you be mistaken?

  Enid shook her head. "Scrying never lies. It’s as I told you. This morning while you worked in the garden, I stared into a bowl of water until I lost track of time. Then I saw your

  Face ... I saw," tears flooded her eyes, her voice breaking "the knife!" She brushed her hand across her eyes. "And I don’t need to tell you...." She sighed deeply, unable to say anymore.

  Briana sat back and stared out the small window to the forested hills, and a myriad of thoughts churned inside her head. She knew the custom in her village of Lochlann, oh, yes! How well she knew, for it was the practice throughout the land. Every year at Samhain, the druids chose the most beautiful woman in the village to sacrifice--to knife to death!--to ensure that the gods would provide protection against the dangers that threatened the people on that holy eve. For on Samhain, one of the holiest days of the year, the veil between the real world and the Otherworld disappeared, and demons stalked the land.

  Everyone had to attend the ceremony, whether they wanted to or not, aye, even young children. She had always hidden behind her mother’s long skirt, but she could never shut out the sound of the villagers’ chanting, nor the woman’s screams. After the ceremony, the villagers rushed home and locked their doors.

  Arguments taunted Briana. She inhaled, catching the scent of the vegetable stew that simmered over the large stone fireplace, the pungent fragrance of onions. Iron pots hung from hooks on the wall, and flowered curtains brightened the cottage’s lone window.

  She glanced back to Enid and to the thatched house that had been her home for all of her twenty years. "But I’m certainly not the most beautiful woman in the village. There are surely others more beautiful than I."

  Enid smiled kindly. "When is the last time you looked into a mirror, dear daughter? You are truly lovely, with your blonde hair and those blue eyes. Besides, I know what I saw, and it was you the druid k-k-killed. You can’t stay here. It breaks my heart to say this, but you must leave."

  "And if I leave, then what? The druids will choose another. Maybe Regan Mulhoney."

  "Regan, pah! She is evil, that one. Would serve her right if the druids chose her."

  "And you?" Briana persisted. "When the druids find that I’ve gone, they will take their anger out on you."

  "Ah, you don’t know my powers of persuasion." A sly look captured her face. "And you have never seen me apply the glamour."

  Briana raised her eyebrows. "Glamour?"

  "Why, yes." She set her face in concentration, and slowly the wrinkles disappeared, the gray hair turned black again, and she smiled in sultry confidence.

  Briana gasped. "Enid, you’re beautiful. But you have always been beautiful to me." She reached across the table to clasp the woman’s hand and Enid squeezed hers in return. Briana swallowed, tears clouding her vision. Gods, she didn’t want to leave this dear woman. "Enid, I can’t leave you," she said, determined to put her misgivings into words one more time. "I’m willing to take a chance."

  "But I’m not. Daughter, before your father went to join your dear mother in the Otherworld, he entrusted you to my care. The gods alone know why your parents were never blessed with other children, but you have always been like a true daughter to me, my only family. As a faithful family servant, I have always done my best for you. I can’t fail you now." She scraped her chair back and stood. "Enough talk. Supper will be our last meal together for ... for who knows how long. After we eat, you must pack your things and head west."

  Briana stood, too. "West? Wouldn’t south make more sense?" Her throat ached from unshed tears, but she must accept this challenge, her destiny. "There are mountains--"

  "Wooded hills."

  "Very well, wooded hills. Very steep hills on all sides but south. Wouldn’t it make more sense to head in that direction?"

  "And that is the very direction the druids’ enforcers would choose to look for you, because it is the most logical. But those wooded hills are no more than three-thousand feet, and once you cross them going west--about fifty miles--you come to the city of Magh Mell, a truly large city. Easy to lose yourself in a place that size. I fear you must seek employment there, but I can give you a few silver coins--"

  "I can’t take your money!"

  Enid held up a hand. "Don’t worry about me. Your father left me enough to last me for years, and you need the money more than I."

  Briana nodded, reluctant to make this ordeal more difficult for this woman who meant the world to her....

  It was a quiet meal they sat down to a short while later. Briana had so much she wanted to say, but she couldn’t force the words past her throat. She finished her vegetable stew, oat bread, and cheese. She drank her beer sweetened with honey, aware she must eat well before her long journey, and knowing this might be the last meal they would share, ever.

  After draining her mug, she stood to gather the dishes for washing.

  Enid laid a hand on her arm. "I’ll wash the dishes. You go ahead and pack your things."

  "Yes," she said on a sob, accepting that she must not waste time. She headed for her small bedchamber, where a narrow bed shared space with a three-drawer clothes chest. She knelt on the floor and pulled out a canvas satchel from under the bed. Tears streamed down her face as she packed her other two dresses, both serviceable wool, one dark blue, the other light gray, adding cotton shifts and stockings, a few toiletry items, a comb, and a cake of lilac soap. From her top drawer, she drew out a jet brooch Weylyn Quinn had bought her at the Beltaine festival several moon phases ago. She sighed as she touched the ornament. Too bad Weylyn was one of the druids’ enforcers, one of their lieutenants who ensured that the people followed every dictate of the religion and that no one blasphemed the gods. She might have liked him otherwise. Shrugging, she tossed the piece into the satchel, needing to keep a memento with her. She grabbed her voluminous woolen cloak from a peg and wrapped it around her to protect her against the autumn chill.

  Through a mist of tears, she snapped the satchel shut and looked around the room that had been her home for all her life, her gaze covering all the little knickknacks and trinkets she had collected over the years. Although small, her wooden home with its thatched roof was bigger than most, boasting two bedchambers that led off from the main room. Since so few in the village of Lochlann could read or write--except the druids--her father had earned money as a scriber, and if the people couldn’t pay him in coin, they gave him produce. Her mother had supplemented the family income as a seamstress. They hadn’t been wealthy, but neither had they been poor. Briana bit her lip as memories flooded her brain, all the precious moments with her mother and father, all the times she would never forget.

  "Briana?"

  Wrenched back to the present, she glanced up to see Enid in the doorway, the woman’s face red from crying. Twilight dimmed the room--time to leave. "Yes," she said in sad resignation. Sobbing brokenly, she rushed over to Enid and hugged her, as if she would never let go. She stepped back and looked into the other woman’s eyes. "Are you sure about this, Enid? Is there no way...?"

  "We’ve already gone through this. No point in discussing it anymore. Believe me, I would give my life to have it otherwise." She drew a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her nose. "Now be on your way, my dear one." She placed several silver coins in Briana’s hands and closed her fingers around them. "Keep these coins with you at all times. Best to keep them in your pocket. As you cross the hills, you should not encounter anyone, but o
nce you reach Magh Mell, you must remember that the world is full of dishonest people. Be very careful whom you trust. And one more thing--should you return and find I have passed on--"

  "No!"

  "--should you find I’m no longer here, there is silver in the sewing machine." She indicated the machine, gathering dust in the corner. "When you raise the lid, you see the machine underneath. Under that is a compartment. There is a spring under that which will release the compartment, where I keep the silver coins." She picked up a wooden basket from the floor. "I’ve packed enough food to last you until you reach the city. From then on, I fear you are on your own." She wagged a finger at her. "Now don’t forget, be careful whom you trust."

  "I’ll remember." She took one last look around the house then turned back to Enid. "Goodbye," she whispered, hugging her foster mother one more time.

  "Goodbye, dear one." She smiled briskly, her eyes flooded with tears. "Now be on your way."

  Briana tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come as she made her way toward the front door while tears swam in her eyes. Afraid to look back for fear she couldn’t go through with her journey, she opened and closed the door behind her, bracing herself against the autumn wind. After a few steps, she bent over and sobbed, as if her heart would break. Moments later, she brushed the tears away and headed for the woods. Since her house lay close to the woods, it didn’t take her long to reach the forest path. She was on her way.

  * * * *

  The following day Enid sat at the oaken table finishing her broccoli soup, trying not to worry about Briana, this young woman she loved as her own. Despite her efforts, memories washed over her as she recalled when she’d first come as a servant to this house when Briana was only five. Throughout the years, this child had come to mean so much to her that she wondered how she’d ever lived before she’d met her. And after the death of Briana’s mother, followed by her father’s death two years later, Briana had truly become her own child.

 

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