In the Witching Hour

by Неизвестный

  "The demons! The demons! Now they will come and get us!"

  I hope not, Briana prayed. The sun arced across the western sky, a reminder she had not a moment to lose. Since she was at the edge of the crowd, it took her but little time to leave the square.

  Free of the crowds and away from the village square, she raced on, past the shops and businesses, the cottages that edged the forest. She must hurry, meet the demons at the circle of stones. Time! She needed time to get to the forest before the demons. Now past the village, she ran toward the forest, covering about a mile on the dirt road that led to the woods. Here, the ground sloped, the rocks and roots a continual impediment. She slowed down, mindful she must conserve her energy. She couldn’t keep on at this pace. The forest loomed ahead of her, mound upon mound, its hills blanketed with evergreens, its peaks reaching upwards of three-thousand feet. Closer now, she caught the aromas of pine and rain. She scrabbled up the rocky path, grabbing bushes for support, her leg muscles straining. The sky dimmed, the sun sinking in the west, but she still had much distance to cover. She slipped on wet leaves but caught herself in time, recalling her sprained ankle of a few days--or years--ago.

  She climbed higher, ignoring the sharp branches that caught at her dress, forcing her to stop now and then to pull the fabric loose. Halting for a slight rest, she leaned against a hemlock and looked up to see the darkening sky, the first faint stars that decorated the heavens. She breathed deeply, fighting for breath as she raised the hem of her dress to wipe across her perspiring forehead. With another deep breath, she continued on, her gaze on the rocky trail where wet leaves made the ground slippery and thick tree roots presented obstacles.

  Always keeping to the path, she wove among the towering trees, the branches dripping with moisture, past the laurel bushes and understory. Another one or two miles, she figured, would take her to the circle of stones. There she would wait for whatever was to come.

  * * * *

  "Briana!" Weylyn searched in vain for his wife. The crowds were leaving the village square, pushing and shoving, rushing to make it home before darkness brought the demons. "Briana!" he called yet again. He must find her, then he must face the otherworlders.

  The demons! That’s where she’s gone! Hoping with all his heart he was mistaken, he checked one more time for her. And didn’t see her. Gods, Briana, why did you do it? He must get to her before she reached the circle of stones. She must not face the otherworlders herself.

  First retrieving his cloak, he raced across the square, headed for the stables behind the temple. But crowds surged in that direction, holding him back. One woman fell, the others trampling over her. He bent to help her rise, as still, the crowds kept coming. At last! The stable came in sight.

  One quick glance told him the stable had aged since he’d left, boards missing, the building in need of repair. He checked in the dim light of the building and didn’t see the stable boy. Where was he? Ah, he’d be returning from the village square. Finally, he came into view.

  "Saddle a horse for me!" Weylyn cried.

  "But sir, the demons--"

  "There will be no demons this night, or ever." He hoped. "Now saddle the horse, or do I have to do it?"

  "But sir, I don’t know you--"

  "Just saddle the damn horse!"

  "Yes, sir." He reached for the tack in the stall. Working quickly, he bridled and saddled the horse and led him outside, then spun around. "Now I must bolt the doors!"

  "Then do it!" Weylyn mounted the horse. His mind went back to the time, days or years ago, when he had ridden his horse, Epona, from the same stable to go after Briana. Now he was doing the same, but for a different reason.

  Starting at a slow pace, he knew better than to gallop, but he cursed every minute that went by, always mindful that he must reach the circle before Briana. Once on the road leading to the forest, he saw four horsemen ahead of him, blocking the road. He’d never get past them. Hemmed in on both sides by trees and bushes, he saw nothing to do but wait and hope they stopped soon. He shouted at them and waved his arms. They looked behind them--and did nothing, kept at the same leisurely pace. Gods, are you not with me this day? After about two miles, they turned off at a mansion. Thank all the gods and goddesses.

  Still, he’d lost precious time. Briana must not face the demons. Gods, how he loved this woman, and how he wanted to cherish and protect her for the rest of their lives. He looked up at the darkening sky. Would he make it to the circle in time? Would he catch up with Briana? He had to, had to! Once past the mansion, he urged the horse to a gallop.

  * * * *

  Complete darkness fell, a multitude of stars and a full moon decorating the night sky. With a final spurt of energy, Briana raced up the rocky trail. The circle of stones, at last! Her heart beat fast as she looked from the circle to the dark trees, her eyes searching for the demons, her mind ever alert for the creatures. She leaned against the circle and closed her eyes. Tempted to climb across, find the portal and escape to the fairy kingdom, she stayed where she stood. She must complete her task. And she could not leave Weylyn. Gods, I can’t do it.

  There! Among the trees! Fiery eyes blazed in the dark, the otherworlders slipping among the trees. The stench of rotten meat blew her way, the earth shaking with their heavy footsteps.

  Gods, help me! Show me the way! She clenched her mouth so hard her jaw ached, while every instinct told her to run, escape. Her breath came in gasps. She couldn’t do it. Could not.

  First one, then another and another, they came from all directions, their grunts louder, their stench unbearable. Furry, squat bodies closed in, their gleaming eyes focused on her. She drew back, pressing against the stones, wanting to scream, wanting to climb across the stones, go back to the fairy world.

  Now! She must say the words now. But she had to do something else first. What was it?

  Ah, yes, it all came back to her. Suppressing her fear, her terror, she knelt on the ground and bowed her head. She stared at the ground, at the furry feet with claws like daggers. She raised her head and looked at them. The words! She couldn’t remember. Past her fear, her horror, she delved into her brain and found the words.

  "Es urta l gret," she murmured, her voice trembling. Gathering her courage, she spoke louder. "En laret nenen set k sarnen."

  The demons stared at her, their fiery eyes piercing her soul. They stepped closer.

  Gods, they don’t understand!

  She looked up at them again, her eyes taking in each creature. She repeated the words.

  The demons stared at her, then at each other, then back to her. They spoke among themselves in a harsh, guttural language, words she couldn’t begin to understand. Then one of them--their leader, she supposed--spoke to her, the same words, barely distinguishable.

  They bowed their heads and gradually stepped away from her. They climbed back up the hill, whence they’d come. Before reaching the top, they turned and waved.

  She stood and waved back, her heart still pounding, her mind scarcely believing she had succeeded. She slumped against the stones, faint with relief, giving in to a rush of joy, of satisfaction, of happiness.

  But wait--was their departure for all time, or only this Samhain? She didn’t know. Only time would tell.

  * * * *

  10/16/04 Weylyn reached the last knoll before the circle of stones. The ground shook with thudding feet, the demons’ stench strong and pungent. Too late! They had Briana! They would take her off to the Otherworld, if they hadn’t slaughtered her already.

  Wisely, he tethered the horse to a tree branch and proceeded on foot. No matter how much he wanted to rush to her and protect her, his mind advised caution. Several steps later, he heard Briana’s voice. Ah, my dear one, my dear wife. She spoke the words the queen had taught them, her voice hesitant at first, becoming stronger, more confident.

  But what was happening? Would the otherworlders understand the words? And even if they did, would Briana succeed? Unable to see what transpired, he pe
ered around a tree, to see without being seen. Briana. At that moment, he saw the demons turn and leave, waving to her from the top of the hill. He bent his head, overcome with relief, wanting nothing but to go to his wife, and hold her close for all time. Yet he waited a while longer, fearing his presence might spoil Briana’s message. The demons might return, kill them both.

  After they disappeared, he raced the rest of the way up the hill.

  "Briana!" Despite his joy, he lowered his voice.

  She turned his way, a look of pure happiness on her face, but puzzlement, too. "Weylyn!" Never had she looked so lovely, the full moon silvering her blonde hair, her beautiful face the most welcome sight. Never had he loved her as he did now, this minute.

  They met and embraced, both crying tears of joy. He kissed her again and again, afraid this moment was too good to be true, fearful she would spurn him after his ill treatment of her in the forest. Damn Regan! He must make amends to this dear one, even if it took him the rest of his life.

  He drew back and gazed into her eyes. "Oh, my love! If anything had happened to you, I wouldn’t want to live."

  Looking bewildered, she stared at him. "I thought you were angry with me, sorry you married me."

  "Ah, darling!" He held her close again, vowing to never let her out of his sight. "I was bewitched, sweetheart. I’ll explain that on our ride back. I’ve a horse waiting farther down the trail. Come, I’m taking you home."

  * * * *

  From that Samhain on, the demons no longer threatened Lochlann, nor indeed, the entire country of Maigh Fearann. They remained in the Otherworld, content to stay among their own kind.

  As for Regan, upon seeing that Weylyn still loved his wife, she went home and ingested a fatal dose of strychnine. A few of the villagers found her several days later.

  What about Briana and Weylyn? Why, of course, they lived happily ever after.

  The End

  The Seductress

  By

  C.H. Scott

  PROLOGUE

  It’s too hard to be normal.

  Colette McFarland tightened her arms around the brown paper bag of groceries. Her high heels clicked against the cement as she walked down the poorly lit sidewalk toward her apartment building only a half-mile away. Working until seven o’clock at the travel agency didn’t give her enough daylight hours to go shopping, and if she wanted to be like everybody else, she had to follow their daily routine. Of course, with a snap of her fingers, she could be in her apartment right now fixing dinner. For that matter, she could even return to find dinner already prepared.

  But no, she had to do things like regular people.

  Her heel caught on a small crack in the sidewalk and she stumbled. Righting herself, she cursed under her breath and tested her foot. When she put weight on it, pain shot up her leg. It’d be hard to walk in heels with a twisted ankle. Should she whisk herself home?

  For the hundredth time since leaving work, she reminded herself that she must act normal. Wouldn’t her Zoetan ancestors be scowling at her now if they knew what thoughts swam through her head?

  She quickly forgot about her past and froze when a familiar twitch irritated her skin. She wrinkled her nose. Something bad was happening.

  She cocked her head and listened. The street by the small market remained quiet, only a distant honking sounded in the night. But something was wrong. Somebody out there needed help.

  She lifted her hand from the paper bag to touch the jade and diamond dragon necklace around her throat. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her feelings.

  Other noises echoed through her head, closer this time, and she focused in on the sounds. Scuffling, then the thud of something hitting the ground. Foul curses, the whooshing sound of a person losing his breath. A groan.

  She inhaled sharply. The sounds came from the alley just around the corner. Cautiously, she limped near the shadowed path and peeked around the brick wall. Down at the end of the way, two men stood over a man’s prone body, kicking him.

  Her heart sank. Was he dead? Touching the necklace again, she focused on the man on the ground. No, a bit roughed up, but not dead.

  Suddenly, bright lights shone on her as a car drove up the street. It slowed, then the passenger window rolled down. She flattened herself against the red brick wall and gaped at the driver.

  "Hey, baby." The man inside winked and waved a twenty-dollar bill. "Do you want a ride?"

  She threw a glare at the obnoxious man in the car. Why did all men look at her as if she were a piece of meat for sale? "No, thank you. I’m fine."

  He shrugged and continued driving.

  Before she could turn back to the scene, a hand gripped her from behind and jerked her inside the alley. The bag of groceries fell and spilled to the ground. A rough hand pulled her a few feet farther before a hard body pushed her against the brick building. Yanking her hands behind her back, the man imprisoned her with his body. Pain shot up her arms and she cried out.

  Through the shadows, another man emerged and stood beside his friend. These were the two she’d just seen beating the other.

  "Who do we have here?" the second man asked.

  Shadows played games with her vision, and the man’s pocked face was all she could see. The scent of leather and stale cigarettes hung thick around him and assaulted her senses. She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better look at his face, but it was shaded beneath a baseball cap.

  The first man grinned. Pale light from a distant street lamp illuminated his brownish-yellow teeth. She grimaced.

  "Looks like we’ve got us a tasty morsel." His hand ran down the front of her dress and rested on a breast.

  He squeezed. Disgusted with the thug’s violent gesture, her stomach rolled with anger. "Let me go." She squirmed.

  The man holding her laughed. "Don’t think so, sweetie. You’ve seen too much, already."

  "I didn’t see anything." Her voice quivered.

  His thumb grazed over her nipple. "Sorry, no-can-do."

  She tugged on her hand, trying to free herself, but his tight grip wouldn’t budge. Panic suffocated her. If she could just touch her necklace, she’d show these bozos who they were messing with. Yet, she shouldn’t use her powers in front of mortals.

  The man in leather leaned in and sniffed her neck then touched his tongue to her skin. "Hmmm, she tastes good."

  The first man laughed. "How much do you charge, sweetie?"

  As usual, a man suspected the worst. She’d thought the Zoetan’s lineage was a curse. Naturally, the women in the Zoetan tribe would be alluring to any male. It had been written that way in the stars. Just because she liked to wear clothes that accentuated her figure didn’t mean she sold herself.

  "Hey, Chuck, why don’t you hold her for me and I’ll hold her for you?"

  The man pinning her against the building turned to his leather-clad friend. "Why can’t I go first?"

  His grip loosened enough to give her the edge she needed. She pulled her hand free and touched her necklace.

  An invisible force pushed the men away from her and threw them into the brick wall on the other side of the alley. With wide eyes, they cried out when their heads connected with the wall. They slid to the ground in an unconscious heap.

  Colette breathed a relieved sigh. That was too close.

  "Oh, my God," exclaimed a weak voice from up the alley.

  She snapped her attention to the third man--the one still on the ground. Damn. She’d forgotten about him.

  She hurried over to the injured man and knelt beside him. His eyes were wide, his bloody mouth agape. He’d seen it all.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  "Who are you?" He shook his head. "What are you?"

  That she could not tell him.

  She gripped his arm and helped him to sit. "We should get you out of here before those buffoons wake up."

  He yanked his arm away. "You didn’t answer my question. What are you?"

  She sighed and glanced over at he
r two would-be attackers, still on the ground. She looked back at the man next to her. "Listen, we have to get you out of here. Those two were trying to kill you."

  "No, they just wanted to rough me up."

  She lifted an eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

  "Yes. I made a bad financial decision, and now I owe them a lot of money. Unfortunately, I can’t pay it back when they’d like."

  "Have you reported them to the police?"

  "No." He shrugged. "Since I’ve been under protection from my father’s bodyguards, I didn’t think it was necessary. I didn’t realize those goons had been following me all this time. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone to that nightclub alone."

  "Is your father someone important?"

  He nodded. "He’s the Senator."

  She blew out a gush of air. "Then we definitely need to get you out of here before those hoods wake up."

  She helped him stand. He limped heavily and fell against her. Letting out a groan, he clutched his side. "I think they broke a rib or two."

  From farther up the alley, the two men stirred to awareness, moaning as they pulled themselves upright.

  "Lady, get me out of here." He grabbed her arm, his voice pleading. "I’ll pay you."

  She looked at him. "I don’t know if I can. If we walk by them, they’ll grab us both."

  He glanced at the men then eyed her. "Do whatever weirdness you’re capable of and get us the hell out of here. When they wake up, they’re going to be pissed off at you. They have guns and won’t hesitate to use them."

  She glanced at the men slowly rising and knew she’d have to use her powers.

  Touching her necklace, she squeezed her eyes closed and focused. When she opened her eyes, they stood in the kitchen of her apartment.