Midnight Hour

by C. C. Hunter

  “What about the guards in the woods?” Miranda asked.

  “They will all be here for the ceremony.”

  “Wait. If the guards are in the woods now, how do you know they won’t catch Tabitha?”

  “The guards never go into the woods unless there is a reason. That property does not belong to them.”

  Miranda prayed Zander knew what she was talking about.

  “What about their powers?” Miranda asked. “How strong are they?”

  Miranda saw Zander shift slightly. “Before a ceremony they celebrate. Jeremiah put a potion in the wine. If it works, their powers will be diminished. You will have the authority of the trees on our side. I will stand in the mouth of the cavern. I will attempt to help you bring a storm.” She drew quiet. “They fear storms, they think it is the Salem witches, returning to punish them.”

  “Good.” Miranda knew Zander could do a pretty powerful storm.

  “As soon as you can, run west. There’s a path in the woods, the trees will guide you. I will hold the storm here as long as I can. If you run fast, you can escape before the guards get to the woods.”

  “Two things,” Miranda said. “When I run, you’re coming with me, and two: I thought we were stopping them.”

  “The bad ones have existed since Salem, stopping them may be impossible. And someone must close the gates so they can’t follow you. I will do that. They will open it, but it will give you time to escape.”

  Zander finally looked back. A gasp left her lips. “Your markings! I knew you held great power, but I never guessed … you were this…” She motioned to her tattoos.

  “What I am is furious.” Miranda watched as Zander’s wrinkles began to fade, her hair turned brown and unmatted. “We can stop this. And I’m not leaving you.”

  Zander smiled. “With your strength, you may be able to stop them.”

  “No,” Miranda snapped. “You’re not putting this all on me. Jeremiah said you still had strength. We both need to do this.”

  “I will try.” She waved to the cot. “Rest now. We will need our strength.”

  * * *

  Time passed. Zander slept, but Miranda couldn’t. The guards came past several times.

  Miranda wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she saw the witch, still curled up against the rock wall, lift her eyes.

  Miranda stood from the cot and dropped on the floor to sit beside her. “I have some more questions.”

  “I hope I have answers.”

  “Who are these jerks?”

  “They are a clan of warlocks. A gang, you’d call them in today’s terms. Legend has it they were Salem warlocks who turned their wives in to save their own skins. They told themselves they’d done it to stop the persecution of all witches. They were shunned by the Wiccan society. So they turned to black magic and created their own beliefs. Ones that devalued women and saw them as property.”

  “They’ve survived all these years?” Miranda asked.

  “And grown more powerful by capturing the most potent witches and producing heirs with them.” Tears filled her eyes and Miranda suspected she thought of her own children.

  “My powers, what can you tell me about them that might help me?”

  “They come when you find and accept your true love. They are at their strongest now. You will never lose them completely. When needed you will be able to call upon them. They are the same as your regular powers. Just faster and more potent. And now you have the ability to command the trees.”

  “And Jeremiah? Where did he—”

  She sighed. “He was a guard, over forty years ago. His job was to watch over a powerful witch’s daughter. The girl was taken by the bad ones. The witch was so angry, she cursed him. He would remain a creature of scales until he stopped it from happening.”

  Miranda inhaled. “So what happened to the girl?”

  “She died. He didn’t. He continued on his mission to save the forest mystics.” She paused. “He came to help me. I was too afraid to fight, but I wouldn’t let him leave. I imprisoned him, like they did me, but he still came back to help.”

  “Maybe helping you is what will free him.” And somehow Miranda sensed it was true.

  “Helping us,” Zander corrected.

  “Yes.” But Miranda sensed there was something special between Zander and Jeremiah.

  “Can I really communicate telepathically?” Miranda asked. “Tabitha said she heard me. I’ve been trying again, but I don’t know if it’s getting through. Does it work with anyone?”

  “It varies with each witch. Normally, you must be connected to someone to speak.”

  Miranda remembered she’d communicated with Perry.

  The witch touched her arm. “Do not tell anyone where we are. If they come too soon, it will lead to death for many of those you love.”

  “But could I just let them know I’m okay?”

  She nodded.

  “How?” Miranda asked, still unsure.

  “Through your heart, the same way you connected with Tabitha.”

  Footsteps came hammering down the hall. “Witch, what have you done?”

  Zander looked at her. Fear rounded the woman’s eyes, and she began to age. “Something’s wrong. I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Zander never answered. A bearded man with gray hair, wearing a robe, came rushing toward the cell. He latched on to the bars and stared in. Evil shone in his eyes.

  “What have you done?” he yelled at Zander.

  “Who left from our gates just now?”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Perry had spent over six hours soaring, searching, hoping for anything that would lead him to Miranda. He knew Burnett wanted him back, but to stop meant failure.

  I love you. He could hear Miranda saying it. She’d told him that last night, right before they’d gone to sleep.

  I love you.

  The memory echoed louder, but as good as it had felt then, it hurt now. “If you loved me why would you leave? That’s not love.”

  Bitterness, anger, and fear all gave his wings strength.

  He started to turn around when he caught something under the trees. Something moving through the woods. Moving fast. Something blue.

  He descended to try to see what it was.

  I’m sorry.

  He ignored the voice and flew downward to peek through the trees. But the branches appeared to shift, blocking his view. He started down, shocked when the vines and limbs laced together, preventing his entry.

  This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t natural.

  It had to be magic.

  To hell with that.

  He shot up, straight up. Flew hard and high. Only when the air thinned, did he start back down. Tucking his wings, molding into a teardrop shape, he dive-bombed downward. Fast, faster, his speed over two hundred miles an hour. His third eyelid moistened his eyes to keep debris out. The fine bones in his nostrils kept his lungs from exploding.

  Nothing protected his heart. His heart was already broken.

  He shot through the interlocked vines, the limbs ripping his feathers hurt like hell, but his next impact with the hard earth, would be worse. It would kill the bird, but ultimately Perry would survive.

  He felt each bone crush. Felt the heart of the bird stop beating. Felt the life as he lived it now end. Then he started to shift.

  Pain. Raw agony like he’d never felt tugged at his sanity. He fought the pain pulsing through him, needing answers. He tried to get up but lost consciousness instead. The pain that took him away now brought him back. Opening his eyes, he saw the tree limbs moving toward him. “No.”

  He forced himself to stand on legs still broken. Then he saw her. Dressed in light blue, red hair flying in the wind. Tabitha. Her feet pelted the ground as if running from the devil himself.

  * * *

  “Open your cell, old woman!” the man screamed.

  “Don’t do it!” Miranda said under her breath. “Just because he asks it
—”

  Zander’s eyes met Miranda’s. She heard the woman’s words in her head. I’m sorry. Don’t argue or fight them now. Wait until you are outside. Ask the trees for help. You still may make it. If not. Death is better than this.

  “Now!” the man screamed and wrapped his fist around the bars.

  Zander winced but moved to unlock the prison door.

  Miranda saw the fury in the man’s eyes and knew he intended to cause Zander pain.

  No. Miranda pleaded in her head. But Zander didn’t listen. She unlocked the gate.

  The older of the men grabbed Zander by her hair and pulled hard. She cried out. “Who did you let out of that gate?”

  “No one.” Her voice trembled.

  In her head Miranda heard Zander. Don’t show your tattoos. Wait.

  Miranda felt a storm brewing inside her. Felt her skin tingling and crawling.

  “It’s time.” The two robed men from earlier walked up. “What are you doing?”

  “I was walking along the north side, I heard the gate open. I went there, but the corridor was empty. No one came in. So someone must have left. We need to send someone.”

  Had Tabitha just gotten out? Don’t let them go after her.

  The younger one moved in. “But Zander’s here. So is the girl. Who would have left?”

  The old man wearing a robe, who still held Zander by the hair, yanked harder. “She’s up to something. I feel it.”

  The younger man spoke up. “I told you she’s outlived her usefulness. Leave her here and we’ll take care of her later.”

  “No!” Miranda shot forward.

  All three men looked shocked that she dared to speak.

  “See!” the older guard said and slapped Zander across the face. “You have failed to teach this one the rules. What good are you?” He reached back as if to strike her again.

  “I will follow the rules.” Miranda squared her shoulders, struggling to keep her voice meek. “I’ll do what you ask,” Miranda said, “but only if she comes with us. To the ceremony.”

  The younger man stared at Miranda. Or rather leered. “Give her what she wants.”

  “I think it’s dangerous,” the older one said.

  “I said give her what she wants. Come. We have a ceremony to perform.”

  * * *

  “Where is she?” Perry pleaded again.

  In spite of his injuries, Perry had morphed into a large bird. He snatched Tabitha, found a small opening in the trees, and flew straight to FRU headquarters.

  Tabitha now sat in a straight chair, looking afraid. But something told Perry she wasn’t just afraid of Burnett. “I told you, I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying!” Burnett slammed his fist down so hard it rattled the table.

  Tabitha flinched. “Yes I am. But I can’t tell you. Not until sunset.”

  “Why?” Burnett roared.

  She lifted her chin and in that moment she looked so much like Miranda, Perry wanted to cry. “Because if I do, you’ll die.” She looked at Perry. “And you, too. And a bunch of my sister’s friends.”

  “What about Miranda?” Perry raged, unable to speak calmly anymore. “Are you going to let her die?”

  “If things go the way they are supposed to, she’ll be okay.”

  “And if they don’t?” Burnett seethed.

  Tears fell from Tabitha’s eyes. “They have to. Zander said as long as everything went as planned, she’d get away.”

  * * *

  They paraded Miranda through the caverns. They came out into a patch of woods, most of which had been cleared. About twenty-five guests mingled under a large tent. Mostly men.

  Miranda prayed that Jeremiah had indeed spiked the wine, because no way could she take on this many.

  The older guard dragged Zander under the tent and forcibly pushed her down into a chair. Miranda met her eyes. But Zander could barely raise them. The power that man had over Zander made Miranda sick. No telling what he’d done to her in the past.

  Two other men, also warlocks, but not in robes, came over, each took her arm. She almost started fighting then, but her gut said wait. They walked her up to the front to a platform.

  All eyes turned to her.

  A bell rang. Everyone moved to their seats. About ten robed men stood at the bottom of the platform.

  Tell me when, Miranda said in her mind, praying Zander could hear her. And the sooner the better.

  No answer came back. Miranda felt herself start to sweat. Boob sweat. Her biggest pet peeve. She hated this.

  A guy walked up on the platform. He started to chant, like some scriptures, but nothing she recognized.

  Chills ran up one side of Miranda’s spine and down the other. Everyone stood and repeated some verse. Miranda tried to make it out, but her heart pumped so loudly in her ears, it was all she could hear. Some man in the audience stood and shouted out something about making their army strong. It was getting creepier and creepier.

  Air felt trapped in her lungs. She saw a tree to her right stir and forced herself to calm down enough to ask. Help us. She looked at Zander who appeared so submissive, a slave to the man who sat beside her. Help us escape.

  Words suddenly filled her head. Zander’s words: Think wind. Think hurricane. Think if you don’t get out of this you’ll end up like me.

  Miranda had never conjured up a storm, but she called upon every Goddess she knew, even some she didn’t know, to conjure up a storm. An epic storm.

  At first she heard nothing. Then a crackling came. Wind followed.

  A roaring sound suddenly hit.

  The two guards holding her elbows looked up. The sky opened and rain poured. The drops hit so hard they stung. Chills brushed against her skin like wind. Unwilling to have the guards on each side of her touch her any longer, she jerked free. They turned to grab her. Their mistake.

  Balls. Eyes. Throat.

  The guy on the left got the ball technique. She went for the eyes on the guy on the right.

  Another guard charged. Miranda kicked. Her foot hit his larynx.

  The youngest robed guy who’d leered at her earlier moved in. Miranda went all out on this one. She gave him the trifecta. Balls. Eyes. Throat.

  Then grabbing his arm, she tossed him over her shoulder. Like Della, he flew up in the air.

  But unlike Della, he didn’t come down.

  A tree limb reached out, wrapped around his middle and held him there.

  Miranda, now soaked from the rain, looked back out at the audience. The cowards were running. Lightning crackled and popped. Men screamed. She saw several raise their hands to use their powers. She prepared herself for disaster. Nothing happened. Thank you, Jeremiah!

  She thought cages and at least four fell from the sky, capturing men. She needed more. She saw the tent swell up like a parachute. She flicked her pinky, and the metal pipes that held it to the ground came up and struck the warlocks left and right.

  Then through the wind that was lifting trees and chairs in the air, Miranda saw the old warlock dragging Zander back toward the cavern.

  Fight him! Miranda said to Zander but it appeared she couldn’t hear. The roar of storm echoed, the trees stirred. Dark clouds rolled in.

  Miranda held out her pinky and a bolt of lightning shot out. It missed, but hit the two warlocks beside them running to the cavern.

  Realizing the cavern might mean their escape. Miranda took one second to envision it collapsing in on itself.

  A rumble sounded, louder than the storm. The ground shook like an earthquake. A chair came thrashing through the air right at Miranda, and she ducked. She shot back up, searching for Zander. She couldn’t find her. Miranda bolted off the platform and took off. The wind flung her hair around; her dress, now heavy with rain, whipped in the air. Several robed men charged her.

  One grabbed her. He went flying with the wind. Then two more came, each latching on to her arms.

  “Help me.” She looked at the trees. A limb, driven by wind, swept forw
ard, loose vines tangled around one of the guy’s legs and yanked him up. But just as quickly another man took his place.

  With both arms restrained, Miranda started to panic then she heard Della: An attacker will try to hold your hands to restrain you. That’s okay. Your legs are the strongest part of your body. And if he’s holding your hands, he’s not protecting his boys.

  She took down the old fart to her right first. The second fart to her left came next. They dropped, screaming. But the wind yanked their screams away.

  Running, she went in search of Zander. Then it stopped. The rain. The wind. The storm.

  “Where’s Zander?” Miranda yelled.

  The trees opened up and Miranda saw the old man dragging Zander by her hair.

  She almost took after them, but Zander’s hair started to change from gray to brown.

  Miranda stood still, poised to run if needed, but she sensed how important it was for Zander to do this.

  Miranda spoke from the heart. Jeremiah says you have the power.

  Zander’s arm reached out and she latched on to the small tree. The old man lost his footing and let go of her hair. But Zander didn’t get to her feet, didn’t fight.

  The old man, still on the ground, gave Zander an order.

  The witch, no longer old, feeble, or anyone’s slave, stood up. She kicked the warlock. He curled up in a ball. She kicked him again. Then she looked up and yelled something out, like a warrior claiming victory. Miranda couldn’t make out her words, but she watched as a limb from a nearby tree swept down, wrapped around the man’s torso and carried him up, trapping him in the tree.

  Miranda gasped when she saw that dozens of men were ensnared in the vines.

  And that’s when a vampire swept in. No, not one, but three, four, five.

  Burnett, Della, Kylie, and then at least a dozen more, all the Shadow Falls camp vampires, landed and circled her. Then a large bird descended. Perry.

  Tears filled her eyes. She ached for him.

  He morphed. She waited for him to run to her, to pull her into his arms. She needed to feel safe. To feel loved.

  He didn’t come. He stood there, staring at her with anger and disappointment.

  Burnett, his eyes bright and wide, looked around, nodding as he moved—as if counting the downed warlocks.