“I smell her. She’s close! Ky? Ky?” Cobaaron called.
“Cobaaron,” Ky yelled, ignoring the ping of curiosity about why she was so desperate. She threw a pebble and it bounced off his chest.
“Ky,” Cobaaron said, obviously feeling the rock. “Where are you?” He searched between trees, looking through her, and then cursed loudly. “She’s in the traders’ realm. Mother of pearl,” he cursed again.
“Ambrosia?” Tyrus didn’t bother to search long for her. “I’ll track the witch if you wish,” Tyrus pleaded to Cobaaron with a sense of urgency. “She can’t be far.”
“Tyrus, get me out!” Ambrosia yelled.
“Who was the witch who put you there? Did she give her name?” Cobaaron asked, his voice still muffled when he spoke.
“Luanda the Weird,” Ky yelled loudly.
“We will track her together, Tyrus. To release them I need the witch alive. Don’t strike her dead. It won’t be easy considering they fought. Her pride is hurt, and that is never a good thing.” Cobaaron commanded his men to surround the area and wait for them. “There is no time to lose. Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Ky said desperately. Ky wasn’t sure why, but she was drawn to him. Cobaaron circled back, at the sound of her voice. There was despair for him that she couldn’t explain. She loved him, and loathed Ron more than ever.
“What, Ky?”
“I love you.” Ky wished she could touch him.
He frowned, bitterly disappointed he couldn’t touch her. He reached out anyway, and her fingers passed through him with no sensation of his presence. He quickly dropped his hand. With determination to fix the problem, he ran into the depths of the forest with Tyrus at his side.
“I must be going crazy.” Ky was amazed at how strongly she felt. She was desperately in love with him. “Could I divorce Ron and marry Cobaaron? This is a nightmare. I can’t imagine my life with any other man.”
“That is because Cobaaron is your partner. Spells to make people forget don’t last because emotions trigger memories.” Ambrosia clutched Ky’s hand, and rubbed her palm. Cobaaron’s name restored at a single swipe, and relief washed over her. “Remember your partner. Remember your partner, Ky.” Her magical words flooded memories back to Ky. Nothing was lost.
Ambrosia squeezed her finger, and Ky’s ring rose until it once again hugged her finger. “Forgive me, but I knew Luanda would interrogate us. She couldn’t know who you were. I saw the most gruesome end to your life if she found out, where you bleed so much you died. And it wasn’t by the hand of the king or Luanda, but of another witch with white hair. It was terrifying.”
“I can’t die. I have Cobaaron’s blood.”
“He was dead, too,” Ambrosia muttered.
“No, the prophecy said we don’t die,” Ky assured her. “You did what you needed to do so it doesn’t happen. I’m certain it was for the best. Although, I sounded like an idiot hating Ron.” Ky grinned, but Ambrosia guiltily pressed her lips flat, unable to return the smile.
“Well, Cobaaron will find the witch. He’s a great tracker. He took Tyrus with him, too,” Ambrosia said. “We might be heading to the City of Lights within hours.”
Huntra clawed at the ground where Ky stood, and meowed. “Poor, Huntra,” Ky sighed sorrowfully, knowing he craved attention.
“He must be able to see you. That’s strange. The traders’ realm shares the spirit realm. How is it that a snow tiger can see us here?” Ambrosia bent and held out her hand to Huntra. He continued to scratch at Ky’s feet, digging a small hole like a dog. When Ky sat on the ground, Huntra curled up as if sitting on her lap. “See? He sees you. Curious.” Ambrosia’s voice was barely over a whisper as she watched him get comfortable and close his eyes.
“You can see me because you’re a good boy, Huntra,” Ky praised him. It felt good to see Huntra again, after their separation. He made her feel secure. Ky wished she could pet him, and decided to use a stick to ruffle his fur. Huntra leaned into the twig, and purred loudly.
The warriors encircled Ambrosia and Ky. Wyt and his family and the women moved to where Ambrosia and Ky were. Noxis barked commands, telling men to rest and some to alternate keeping guard as they slept with little protection. It would be awhile before Cobaaron returned, and Noxis wanted the warriors well rested before continuing to the City of Lights. He told Edom, X-avor, and Beldor to stay close to Wyt. Then Noxis took the first watch. He climbed a high tree to scout the land.
“Should I set up camp?” Ambrosia asked Ky.
“I should be exhausted, but I’m not. All I want is Cobaaron to come back. I can sleep later while in Huntra’s compartment. You can sleep but I’ll stay up with Huntra.”
Ambrosia magically manifested a comfortable cot next to Ky, and soon fell asleep. A few minutes later, everyone around Ky was sleeping. She felt tired, but waited anxiously for Cobaaron. She wanted to crawl into the protection of her small room with Cobaaron and rest in his arms.
She absentmindedly petted Huntra as she daydreamed of escaping the realm. She yawned, but stifled it. Unexpectedly, Huntra got to his feet, and stared in the far distance. His ears were up and alert. Ky squinted, but saw nothing. Huntra continued to stare into the woods. “What is it, Huntra?” Ky whispered.
Suddenly, Ky was mute. Then her teeth clamped tightly closed, her lips fasten together. Ky knew her forced silence was magical. She couldn’t make a sound and panicked. The moment she wanted to wake Ambrosia, Ky’s body became rigid.
Then she saw black smoke spiraled up from the ground not twenty feet from her. A woman appeared in the dark haze. The wisps swooshed behind her as she walked until they disappeared. At first glance, she thought it was Luanda the Weird, but then she stepped into Wyt’s bluish light. It wasn’t the same woman. She wore a black dress with a long, dark tasseled rope coiled tightly around her ribs and waist. Her tangled white hair resembled dreads with the last six inches puffed into a full, frizzy mess. She walked as she pointed a wand at Ky. The witch locked her dull red eyes with hers.
Ky’s heart pounded; she was terrified. Not only because she was paralyzed, but Ky was sure it was the same witch from Ambrosia’s dream. She wanted to scream for help, and inside her panic-stricken thoughts, she was shrieking loudly. But she made no noise and warned no one of the witch’s presence.
Huntra pounced at the warriors, trying to wake them, but he froze midair and then reversed his actions until he curled up on the ground, as he was before. Then Ky levitated. A thick chain silently wound around her like a snake. The cold iron pinned her arms and wrapped her legs. Ky slowly rotated as the shackle slinked around and bound her. Then Ky drifted forward, as the witch walked beside her. She floated passed sleeping warriors. When the links finished looping her in a tight squeeze, Ky was face down and her nose was only inches from the warriors she drifted over.
She couldn’t make a noise or even breathe puffs of air to wake them. She couldn’t moan or whimper. Ky’s hair dragged on the ground, and through the men without their knowledge. All Ky could do was watch each sleeping face glide passed as she was abducted.
Any time a warrior stirred, the witch stilled, as if waiting to see if she needed to cast another spell. Her actions were unhurried until they were far from the assembly of men. Once they had distance from the legions, a whirlwind of bats and crows manifested and encircled them. Ky witnessed a witch disappear in a cyclone like this before, and she tried to kill her. Realizing this made Ky know exactly how much danger she was in.
Ky felt her body stretch in different directions. She wished she could scream, but her mouth was still clamped shut. The rushing wind was as loud as thunder. Then the bats and crows vanished. She was still again, and all was calm.
They were outside an odd looking hut. Several black, dead trees were twisted together to form a round, burnt shack. Ky continued to float in the direction of the shelter. They stepped into an invisible force field. Their entry caused the hazy bubble to wobble. The enormous protective dome was several ac
res and covered the home and the surrounding glade. A quiet breeze and a soft hum of strange insects that lived in the refuge under the safety of the charm kept the clearing strangely tranquil. It seemed out of character that such a terrifying woman, whose appearance alone gave Ky the creeps, would find haven here.
The witch dragged her into the hut of charred-entwined trees, and dropped her onto the mossy ground. Bright glowing bugs trapped in hovering jars lit the witch’s home. For a woman with great power, she had little comforts and an unimpressive cramped space. Then it occurred to Ky it wasn’t a home, but possibly storage because there were strange trinkets everywhere. The witch dug in cubbies that were carved from tree trunks. She opened a golden flask, before walking over to Ky.
The witch wildly waved her wand and Ky’s enchantments dissolved. Her jaw unclenched and her muscles relaxed. The witch pinched Ky’s cheeks, forcing her mouth open, and poured in a black liquid. Ky tried shoving the witch away, but it was too late. The thick liquid went down like razors. Heat scraped her throat. She gagged, trying not to swallow, but the juice moved on its own accord. She struck the witch again. It was no use. The witch emptied the small flask, and Ky’s throat welcomed the drink, as it cut and burned as all of it went down.
“You poisoned me. Didn’t you?” Ky asked in panic as the witch put some space between them, because Ky was violently hitting her.
“I’d love to poison you, and put a stop to all of this, but I can’t kill you. I know that, and suspect you do as well.” The witch glared with murderous intent. “I can see why my son loved you. You’re very pretty.”
“Your son?”
“King Verellis. I’m Zevera Verellis and you killed, Wilt. I’ll take you to my other son, Rathe. Maybe then, my two remaining boys will take this prophecy seriously. They don’t worry as I have.” As Zevera pointed a finger at Ky, her nail became needle-sharp. Zevera pricked Ky’s finger, wrapped her hand around it, and squeezed out a drop of blood. Bright silver dribbled down to Zevera’s palm. Ky wrenched her hand free, but not before Zevera’s blood seeped into Ky. They both tried to stop the bleeding. Ky winced from pain she couldn’t ignore.
Zevera doubled over, flailing. Her clothes shook, and she changed shape as she violently thrashed. Zevera’s shriek was a ghostly supernatural scream. Ky’s fear instantly overshadowed her pain. Ky yanked free, and backed away, hitting the wall. Zevera morphed into horrendous demonic figures, somehow shifting to images of Ky’s greatest fears she’s had since childhood.
Ky knew she couldn’t die, but her mind flooded with thoughts of her own death. Zevera manifested into a demon, with long claws. Its skin stretched, as many hands tried scratching their way out of the thin skin. All of a sudden it noticed Ky, and slashed at her with long fingers and claws. Ky thrust her hands out to keep the demon back, but after that fear paralyzed her. She couldn’t think clearly. The demon threatened with a low, raspy voice, “You will die, Ky!” As the demon lunged, its skin tore as others emerged, and once again Zevera became recognizable as her former self. Zevera was in a daze, as if she had no idea what just transpired. Her entire body wobbled as if something in her chest was trying to escape.
Then Ky’s flaming blood seeped into Zevera’s body. They both began to heal and the heat cooled. Slowly Zevera ceased shaking until she was still for so long Ky thought of running. But as soon as the thought entered her mind, Zevera’s head snapped up, locking dangerous bloodshot eyes onto Ky that pinned her to her spot. Zevera abruptly raised her arms and Ky was suddenly lifted to the ceiling, and held against the charcoaled wood.
“What did you do to us?” she asked in an eerie voice that didn’t belong to Zevera but the evil beasts inside her.
“I don’t know.” Ky managed, choked by an invisible hand. Her windpipe felt like it would collapse. Her legs dangled, and her neck felt wrenched and stretched.
Ky abruptly dropped and Zevera studied her trembling hands. Zevera roared and again tossed Ky, but this time dead limbs and branches wrapped around, trapping her. Zevera departed, shrieking in fury. Thunderous explosions and snapping, crashing tree limbs revealed the depth of Zevera’s wrath as she moved through the forest, destroying all in her wake.
Ky knew it was her chance to escape, but she was tightly pinned from her forehead to feet. Any gaps that exposed body parts weren’t wide: one arm dangled freely and her knees were unrestrained, but she had no wiggle room. She tried to shine, hoping she could burn the tree to ash, and escape, but her cloak made it impossible. She emitted no light.
Ky hoped strategic shifting could release her ankles from the tight grasp, and allow her to slip out the bottom. But hours later, after several panic attacks, her feet were swollen and raw, and Ky hadn’t budged. Reality struck: there was no escape.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ky knew she couldn’t die. Not with Cobaaron’s blood circulating in her body. It was little comfort, considering Zevera left three days ago. She was dehydrated, hungry, and weak. Her only hope was that Cobaaron would never stop searching. Her clever druse fetched water from a nearby stream in small leaf cups. There were never more than a few drops, but it sustained her.
If Prism wasn’t hauling water droplets, she was resting on a log where Ky could see her and listen to her hum. Her presence was consoling and she wasn’t alone. She had someone to talk to, or distract from thirst, hunger, and the possibility of Zevera returning. She kept telling Prism that Cobaaron would find them soon, and Ky was certain it was true.
“No worries, little druse,” Ky said as Prism sat on a crusty branch. “We aren’t giving up.” As she encouraged Prism, her eyes landed on the cubbies. Immediately Ky felt like a total dunce. “Prism! Look through her cubbyholes and find something I can use to get out of here!” She practically screamed she was so excited. Prism zoomed off, and ducked into a nook. She buzzed from compartment to compartment, clattering around as she searched. “Maybe a softening potion, a vanishing tonic, or better yet an edible brew so I could eat my way out.” She tried to be as specific as possible, knowing animals did exactly as instructed.
Ky’s heart fluttered with anxiety with each passing minute. They had no other chance of escape. When Prism returned empty-handed, Ky panicked. “Look again! Zevera had to leave something here that would help me escape!” she demanded, but her words convinced her it was hopeless. Surely, Zevera wouldn’t be so careless. Time and time again, Prism found nothing but shiny trinkets she tried sneaking into her home, but Ky refused to let her keep anything from someone so dangerous.
After a week, Ky noticed she lost weight. Her waist was thinner and escape seemed possible. She attempted freedom until her feet were inflamed and throbbed. Ky screamed in frustration, cursed loudly, and had a newfound phobia of being buried alive or trapped and left for dead. She felt like she faced death and would wither away, but her fate was much worse. She was going to remain stuck until Zevera returned. In a world where people lived long lives, Ky had no idea when Zevera would return; it could be centuries before Ky saw her again. Zevera certainly was in no hurry.
And where was Cobaaron? Could he find her? Would Wyt or Ambrosia dream of her in this tree to help Cobaaron find her?
Ky was depressed and crying in defeat when Prism hurriedly flew into her home. Ky didn’t know why she hid, but then she heard a noise that sounded like a cough from outside. Sure enough a few seconds later she heard wet hacking. Ky braced herself, because someone headed for the hut. Ky was certain it was Zevera. She had mixed emotions about Zevera’s arrival and presence. She was frightened to see her again, and relieved she’d soon be out of the tree.
The coughing continued, and the sound of clearing phlegm and spit nauseated her. Moments later, Zevera entered the shelter. Ky trembled at her sight. Zevera ignored her, and rummaged in the deep carved cubbies. Ky worried Zevera would discover that Prism trifled through her belongings. Relief slowly eased her when Zevera said nothing. The branches pinning Ky slackened, contorting into the warped walls. She landed on the mossy ground w
ith a muffled thud. Zevera was unperturbed and kept pawing for something.
Ky once again had no control over her body as she levitated, zoomed past Zevera, and came to the nearby stream. Ky hovered motionless for a heartbeat, plopped under the water, and was pinned in the shallow brook.
Ky panicked, seeing the rippling inches above her nose, but she was incapable of sitting up to breathe. Her druse zipped from the rapidly filling box, and Ky saw her streaking in an erratic configuration before fleeing. Moments later, the black-clad witch appeared. Ky was terrified. Zevera frightened her more than anything she’d encountered yet. Zevera lifted her hand, and dropped something over her. The current was blasted away and she gasped, but could only take shallow breaths because she felt like she was punched in the gut. Ky was lifted, as the water swelled back into the stream, and flowed south.
Ky crumpled, while she gasped. She felt weaker than ever. “What did you do to me?”
“I made it so I can stand the smell of you,” Zevera hissed. “You have weakened me. I’ve had to resort to my treasures to deal with you. You will dearly pay for what you have done.” Ky coughed and panted, and Zevera hacked. Ky had no idea what she was talking about.
“I didn’t do anything to you.” Ky’s voice expressed her innocence, but Zevera guffawed.
“You’re under my control now. You’re bound to my every word. So, don’t try to escape. Stand up, and follow me.” Ky did as the witch asked; her body responded to Zevera’s words.
Zevera touched her dress, knocking the wind out of her as the fabric shook like a dog ridding itself of water. All the stains disappeared. “You stink. Your bath didn’t do you a lick of good,” Zevera snapped, and then headed for the twisted tree shelter. Ky’s body moved of its own accord.
As she followed Zevera, Ky felt her body relax and limply move without effort. Her knees wobbled with each step. She walked awkwardly until she got used to being under someone else’s control. Soon her movements were fluid, and with each step, Ky had no desire to fight the magic. She grew complacent, with no need to run for freedom; escaping was no longer important. She liked being controlled and staying with Zevera.
The Coming Dawn Trilogy Page 45