by Riley Storm
“If you think I am capable of succeeding you one day,” she said quietly. “Then how come the leadership of the team went to Madison? I don’t understand. I thought I had done a good job.”
“For the same reason, I don’t think you are capable of succeeding me today,” Circe said, walking over to her desk and sitting on the edge of it in the most casual, relaxed manner that Christine could ever remember seeing the other woman evince.
“I don’t understand,” she repeated, feeling like a broken record.
“You have potential, Christine. Great potential to be a witch of incredible power, and also a great leader.”
“I…”
“Yet just because you have that potential does not mean that it is being recognized,” Circe said, her voice a little stronger. “I have talked quite a lot with Master Pinton over the past week and a half, while you have been training together. Not all of them speak glowing of you.”
“I screwed up several times,” Christine admitted. “It was a steep learning curve. Steeper than I imagined. I am learning, though,” she said forcefully. “I have gotten better.”
“And you will no doubt continue to get even better,” Circe said. “But there are lots of things that go into being a leader. Sometimes even it’s the little ones, like being one of the first to arrive to an important meeting. Not one of the last.”
The rebuke was soft, but it hit home, reinforcing not only that she’d screwed up by being late, but also why she was late. A double hit to her gut.
“That was—”
“I don’t care what’s going on between the two of you,” Circe said, her voice hard. “That’s between the two of you. You are both adults, you can make your own choices. However, I will not allow it to carry over, and today it did. Altair was here early, one of the first. You were last, Christine. Because you put your own feelings before the team. That is why Apprentice Gardener is in charge.”
“I understand,” Christine said heavily.
“Like I told you from the start,” Circe said, lightening up for a moment. “If you want the team, if you want it to be yours, then go out and take it. Nothing is set in stone.”
Christine nodded, pulling herself up, straightening her spine. The other woman was right. This was only the first mission that their team would run. If she could demonstrate going forward that she was the best option to be put in charge, then Circe would have no choice but to do that.
But I need to prove it to everyone first.
“I will,” she said strongly. “I won’t disappoint you again, nor will I disappoint myself. I will prove I am ready to lead this team. Whatever it takes.”
There could be no more obstacles in her way. Not if she was to become Circe one day. Her goals had just gotten bigger. A lot bigger.
“Good. Now go do your mission, and come back here and get to work,” Circe said, both approving of her statement, and also dismissing her from the office, all in one go.
Christine marched from the room, back straight, head held high with pride.
It was time for her to focus on what truly mattered. She could not have any more obstacles. No more distractions.
And Altair was certainly her biggest distraction at the moment.
With the newfound knowledge that Circe one day expected her to ascend and become the next Circe, Christine needed to push herself even harder. More studying, more practicing. She had to learn everything there was to learn about magic. About being a witch. About being a leader.
There was one thing she already knew, however. Being a leader meant making the hard decisions. The ones that were for the greater good, even if she had to suffer.
I can’t keep doing this with him, if I’m going to become the best witch I can. There are bigger issues, bigger duties that I must attend to. I cannot spend my time keeping him in line.
Altair would have to wait though.
First, she had a demon lord to defeat.
Chapter Thirty
Altair
He dropped from the skies with practiced ease, shunting aside the sadness that he would have to soon return to his human form.
It had been far too long since he had been able to take flight, to let his dragon form free for any sort of extended period of time. Even the tease of it the other night over the walls of Winterspell had made him long for the days before the war. The days where he could spend hours gliding on the winds back home on Dracia, without a care in the world.
Altair missed those days. He missed everything about his home.
Spreading his wings wide, the hard membranes inflated with air, slowing his brilliant sapphire-blue scaled body. Snow crunched under the four talon-tipped claws as he settled down on the perimeter of the Outpost.
The rest of the witches landed around him. The full team had been dispatched to the Outpost, including the alternates. Their approach and landing had drawn the attention of the witches and dragons stationed at the Outpost already, all of whom were now watching, wondering what was going on.
Focusing, he felt his dragon form retreat, and the world around him grew larger as he shrank, his scales disappearing under pale human skin. The transformation complete, he tugged free a bag that was partially buried in the snow under his left foot. It had been clutched in the claw as he soared through the skies, and now it sat free, waiting for him.
He removed some clothes, beginning to get dressed. To a dragon, nudity was second nature, they were used to the sight. Altair didn’t think twice of it, simply pulling on his clothes at his own pace, his mind elsewhere. When he was finished, he slung the bag over his shoulder and stood up straight.
All around him, he saw witches looking in his direction, their faces wide with shock, or filled with pleasant smiles. It took him a long moment of uncertainty before he realized they must all have been watching him change.
Looking around, he tried to spy Christine, to see if she too had been watching, but she wasn’t there. An empty spot in the formation indicated where she had landed, but footsteps leading up to the Outpost itself showed she’d wasted no time in going inside, leaving him be. She hadn’t watched.
Frowning to himself, Altair marched past the assembled witches, keeping his eyes to himself. Troubled by his thoughts, he wanted to be alone, in private. Somewhere that he wouldn’t be under their scrutiny.
Why had his thoughts immediately gone to Christine, and hoping that she’d been there checking him out? He didn’t like that, didn’t like it one bit at all. They were no longer a thing.
We were never a thing to her, he reminded himself, thinking back to the letter. Christine had someone else in her life. A human male from somewhere called Elk Pines. She’d only been using Altair, probably to try and increase her bid for leadership of the response team.
Well doesn’t that just make a lot of sense. Take me under her wing, try to tame me, turn me into the good team player that will make her look good to Circe and the others. Altair snorted, finding it hard to believe his own naivety in the entire situation. How could he have been so blind?!
Walking past a line of curious faces, he didn’t say a word, pushing his way indoors. After the flight, he wanted to eat, to recharge his body. Despite the fact he’d been used for someone else’s purposes, Altair was still in the middle of a combat zone as far as anyone knew.
Lord Berith wouldn’t care about their petty internal squabbles. The demon lord would be coming after the dragons regardless, and Altair intended to be ready. He would just channel his anger into his attacks, making them hurt more.
His eyes naturally found Christine once he entered, but he immediately looked away. Ignoring her would be the easiest way not to get sucked back into any drama between the two of them. They were going to be in tight quarters at the Outpost, and he would need to likely interact with her at some point.
Pure professionalism. That’s all she’s going to get. The absolute bare minimum, and only when necessary. Otherwise, she can go do her own thing and leave me alone. Finishing writing
that letter back to Julian for all I care.
Altair had seen the letter she’d written in return. It was in different handwriting, addressed to a Julian. There was no doubting it was from Christine. That was, perhaps, what hurt the most. Knowing that she was writing him back. That she wanted to talk with him and continue on that relationship even as she seduced Altair with her evil ways.
“Okay, everybody, listen up.”
Apprentice Gardener followed him inside, as did the rest of the team. She gave the Outpost regulars a rundown of why they had arrived, and how she expected them to act as backup and reinforcements. They still had the primary job of watching the portal, after all, and nobody wanted anything coming through while they were distracted with Lord Berith.
There was the expected hubbub of noise at the notice the demon lord was expected to arrive here, but it died down shortly after.
“We’ll stand watch in three-hour shifts,” Gardener announced to her team. “Four a watch. Altair, Jessie, Becca, Vanessa—you’re up first. The rest of you, settle in but stay ready. Who knows how long we’ll be waiting for?”
Altair rolled his neck, loosening the muscles there as best he could, trying to decide if first watch was where he preferred to be. Was Lord Berith going to arrive that soon? He certainly did not want to be asleep when the demon lord made his presence known.
Sleeping out here is probably a bad idea to begin with.
He bit his lip, having been so caught up in his relationship with Christine falling apart and being deployed that he hadn’t even thought about that. How was he going to sleep without worrying about hurting someone?
Cursing himself for this new predicament, Altair put his boots back on and headed back outside, ignoring the looks from some of the witches, and refusing to even glance Christine’s way.
“Shouldn’t we make the watches a bit stronger?” Christine suggested. “We have the numbers with us. We’ll want enough of us awake and alert when Lord Berith shows up that they can delay him while the rest of us get organized, no?”
Gardener shook her head. “We’ll be fine. Four is plenty to delay the demon until the rest of us are ready to take the fight to him. I want as many of us rested as absolutely possible.”
Altair thought that Christine was going to push harder, but for some reason, she didn’t. He frowned at that, wondering why not. That wasn’t like her, not like the Christine he knew.
Except you didn’t really know her, now, did you? You thought you did, but you didn’t. She’s not the person you’ve been spending time with.
Standing up, Altair filed outside with the other three witches named to first watch. They divvied themselves up into the four corners and spread out, watching the slowly brightening sky around them for any signs of movement or magic.
Eager as Altair had been to get out of the close quarters of the Outpost’s main building, he found his anger wasn’t dissipating at all.
Because as much as he longed to be away from Christine, to try and put her in the past, he was finding it harder and harder to ignore the pull of his dragon, of that other side of him. It was tugging him back to her, like a magnet to its opposite pole. On some level, he still wanted her. Badly.
Snarling and not caring who heard it, Altair stormed off another dozen paces into the forest that sealed off this end of the little valley in which the portal and the Outpost sat. Maybe increased physical distance would help, he figured.
It didn’t.
Turning, he paced back the way he’d come. His eyes were drawn to a shape glittering in the air behind the Outpost, back toward the cliffs that formed the opposite end of the valley. A tiny little oblong shape, it hovered six feet from the ground, doing nothing at all.
Of course, it didn’t have to do anything to give Altair nightmares, to remind him of what lay on the other side.
A notion tickled at his mind as he watched the portal, something that he was missing. Something important. He tried to focus on it, to pull it from the tip of his tongue into full awareness, but it was fighting him. It didn’t want to be known.
Steeling himself, Altair tried to relax. He took in a deep breath, slowly exhaling, freeing his mind, pushing out all the negative thoughts, all the stress he was currently under.
Think.
A tingle ran up his neck, lifting the hairs on end.
Spinning, he gaped in surprise as the very air itself tore apart, a jagged rip in reality. A blackened hand with fingers as long as his legs pushed through and pulled it apart while the owner stepped through.
It stood nearly thirty feet tall. Blackened armor coated most of its body, with flesh the color of fire and lava exposed only when it moved. Two wickedly curved horns added another five feet to its height, streams of flame spinning between them, lending a terrifying aspect to the already imposing figure.
A maul with spikes the length of his arm and wider around rested easily on the beast’s shoulders. Behind the helmet of blackened armor, two eyes burned like circular fires as they focused on the surroundings.
Snow sizzled and evaporated into steam as its very presence generated enough heat to melt a circle forty feet wide around it, right down to the earth itself, which also began to blacken and die.
Lord Berith had arrived.
Chapter Thirty-One
Christine
Everyone felt it. Something had changed.
She stood up, looking around at her fellow witches as they too recognized it. The stifling presence of something extremely powerful, its magic so strong it was practically tangible, choking their senses, making it hard for them to concentrate.
A moment later, she heard Altair’s bellow from outside. It was followed shortly by several other shouts. There was no mistaking what the clamor was about. A second later, the entire ground shook, and a horrible roar washed over them, driving many of the witches to one knee as it assaulted their senses.
The enemy they had trained to fight was here. It hadn’t taken more than thirty minutes for Lord Berith to arrive, and now the demon had shown its face.
Christine spun around, looking at Madison, waiting for the other witch to start barking orders, to organize the witches and deploy the response team.
Outside, she heard the sound of magic being cast, and another mighty roar from the throat of a dragon as Altair struck. A moment later, the thunderclap washed over the Outpost, confirming her suspicion. The quartet of witches would delay Berith as long as they could, but they weren’t strong enough to stop him. They needed the rest of the team.
“Gardener!” she snarled. “We must go to them. We need to help out.”
“Can’t go out there,” the other woman stammered. “Can’t you feel it?”
Christine’s mouth dropped open. What had happened to Madison? She was no coward, not one to be overwhelmed by this. What sort of magic was holding her prisoner?
Frustration boiled over and Christine stopped reacting and started acting. She grabbed Madison by the collar, shook the woman violently and slapped her across the face.
“Pull yourself together, now. You are a witch of Winterspell, and you are not going to cower inside like this. You are a badass bitch. Remember that!”
She turned to see the others looking at her
“Well what are you waiting for!” she snapped as the building shook again, and something else roared. “It’s a good day to die!”
The witches snapped out of their trance as her cry hit them, and they raced for the door.
They emerged into a warzone. Flame and fire billowed everywhere. The world was blackened and dying. Above them, clouds rolled in, blocking the sun, turning the valley into a zone of death and dying.
“Not today,” Christine promised. She leveled her wand and lashed out at Lord Berith as the huge beast swung its maul, trying to flatten Becca.
The smaller witch raised her wand, the tip glowing green as she tried to deflect it. Christine cried out in horror, knowing that a singular witch could not deflect such a mighty strike.
Yet before the terrible weapon could land, wind whipped up around Becca and slid the woman thirty feet out of the way.
The maul hit empty ground, the force of the strike spilling many of the emerging team to the ground as earth leapt up to meet them. Behind the demon, Altair lowered his hands and looked to the sky as lightning flickered and thunder boomed.
Christine managed to steady herself from the blow. She needed to buy herself some time.
Lightning flashed down from the sky faster than she could watch. It connected with the tip of Altair’s hand, and then shot out the palm of his other, taking Berith right in the back.
The mighty demon lord twitched, but that was the only indication it gave that it even felt the strike. Turning faster than she thought possible, it swung the maul sideways through the air at Altair.
Christine gasped, but Altair was the faster. Wind deflected the maul away, just enough to miss the crouching dragon and keep Berith spinning.
More magic struck the demon as the rest of her team started to deploy behind her. They were still scattered and not organized, spread out around the demon. Vulnerable.
But they were here now, and they started to take the pressure off the watch group, giving them a chance to breathe. Christine knew she needed to start having them work together, to use the tactics they’d trained with. If they didn’t, Berith would defeat them piecemeal.
The demon lord didn’t seem impressed by the waves of magic hitting him. In fact, his angry bellow said he was quite the opposite.
He gestured at the space between him and the witches. Air shivered and ripped open in half a dozen places. Each was too small to let him escape, but the rifts weren’t designed to let him out.
They were made to let something else in.
Gray shapes rushed through on six legs, the two heads swaying as they came on, snapping at the nearest witches as the gremlins went on the attack. Triple rows of teeth clamped down on one of her team, casually shearing the leg off a second before a blue beam impaled it through both skulls, toppling it, the leg still stuck in its teeth.