The feeling of silken scales along her back reminded her of Theria’s constant, near invisible presence in the darkened room. She kept the room full of shadowy corners so that her hellhound could listen in on meetings unobtrusively and her hand reached up to stroke the spikes down Theria’s spine automatically.
“I think Romana’s soul is making me soft.” She muttered.
“You want to allow the friendship between the two of them,” Theria guessed. “It could be beneficial to Asha. But at the same time, a rivalry would be more efficient to our cause; it would also serve to motivate them.”
“I am not above such underhanded tactics,” Silver replied slowly. “But getting enough of a response from Masozi to initiate such a rivalry would be difficult.”
“Then don’t target her.” Theria suggested, “Raise her up, and make her the golden girl of the Dark Coven. Asha’s ambition will do the rest.”
“I doubt it.” Silver muttered. “The girl is too much like Romana to feel jealousy at her friend’s achievements.”
Theria chuckled, “True. She has Romana’s softness as you say, but you would do well to remember that Romana also keeps a core of steel that held you and her powers at bay for two years after she reached her maturity.”
Silver nodded absently. “Perhaps if I was to set them both against one of the other students it would be more believable. As wytch queens go, Masozi isn’t even in the top five most powerful. Pitting her against Asha would hardly be fair to her.”
Theria barked out a laugh, “True. But who would you suggest? None of the other trainee’s come close to her. It is hardly Masozi’s fault she is naturally the third weakest in the hierarchy.”
Silver thought about it. “Perhaps we could incite competition among the mentors, a challenge to see who has the most talented trainee.”
“A contest?” Theria asked. “You could hold a tourney.” The smirk in her voice made sure Silver knew she thought the idea laughable.
Silver snorted. “That would only serve to weaken the loser in front of the other dark wytches. No, we cannot put ourselves in the position where any member of the Dark Coven is deemed weak. The compliance of the lesser dark wytches depends on their fear and respect.”
“Then don’t hold it publicly. Make sure only the Dark Coven knows, hold it privately in one of the battle training rooms.”
Silver nodded thoughtfully. “We could wait until all of them find their familiars, and hold it just before Asha goes to the Light Coven.”
“She would have to win.” Theria replied. “If she didn’t she would become a target among the others, and weaken her already precarious position among them.”
“We cannot rig the competition.” Silver snorted. “She will have to win on her own terms.”
“But what if she doesn’t find her familiar in time?” Theria looked at it from another angle. “If she is split between the covens would it not make sense that she wouldn’t find her familiar till after training with both of them? Without one she will be weaker than the others.”
Silver cursed. “We consult with Kate or Gaillean; see what they have to say on the matter. If she will be powerful enough to be equally matched then we go ahead with it.”
“And what if her solution to win the battles is to simply take each wytch’s power?” Theria was playing devil’s advocate, and Silver appreciated the need to ensure any plan regarding Asha’s position in the Dark Coven was fool proof.
“We still have no idea how she can use her power in battle other than that.” Silver muttered, “We will have to also teach her swordplay at some point. She’s had some training,” Asha’s more developed muscle groups had informed Silver of that when she came back from Morendor, “But it won’t be decent enough. The kingling has likely had some court duellist teaching her rather than someone who actually knows how to fight.”
Theria nodded her large head. “For such a small being she requires so much work.”
Silver barked out a laugh. “And I don’t?”
“No mother,” Theria smiled, “You are rather self-sufficient for a small person.”
Silver snorted, she was many things, but at her height, small was not one of them. Yet Theria had reached her full height some time ago, now she stood as tall as most shire horses, larger than her brothers. “I am glad I meet with your approval.” She retorted, moving to stand at the window behind her desk which looked out over the closed inner courtyard where Asha and several other novices were sitting, trying their hardest with the tasks assigned to them. There was little talking as they concentrated, some with their heads immersed in books, Asha with the two plant pots in front of her. The idea was to get her to take the life of the rose in one pot and give it to the dead bush in the other; so far there had been little success. But as Silver watched, Masozi stepped timidly into the courtyard and Asha’s head swivelled instantly, almost certainly sensing her presence.
The look of relief and welcome on Asha’s face was clear for an instant before she wiped it clean. Good, Silver thought, at least the girl was learning to get a handle on her emotions.
Theria laid her head on Silver’s shoulder, and a pulse of sorrow echoed through the bond. “I hate to see her like that.” The hound said. “And you do too, so stop pretending that it’s a good thing for her to be pretending to be your mirror.”
“If it will keep her alive,” Silver began, “I would do that and more.” She indicated the other wytches in the courtyard. “Look at them. You can see the ones that are going to go far in our world. They’re the ones who are studying what the others are doing, who are learning what they’re up against and silently working out ways to defeat them. The dark wytches will never form a community like the light wytches. There will be fights to the death, alliances and conflicts. This will make them stronger, but it leaves no choice for those who are born into it; they get strong or die.”
Theria nodded. “I see the necessity. Unlike the light wytches the dark wytches will always have enemies, just for the nature of their gifts. Yet because of those gifts, setting rules or babying them won’t work.”
Silver sighed, “Would you look at that?” Her focus hadn’t really left Asha, but now that Masozi sat beside her Silver’s niece was steadily draining the life of the rose and healing the bush at the same time. Her senses told her that although Masozi sat a foot away, reading a book, the two were locked in mental communication.
“I have revised my earlier opinion,” Theria announced. “Let them remain friends. The benefits are apparent even at this early stage. Asha will need someone she can be herself around.”
“Did you?” Silver asked, suddenly concerned she had neglected her familiar in that way.
“I had my brothers.” Theria reassured her. “They helped me stay sane, and be what you needed at the same time.”
“What a horrible burden I must be.” Silver muttered darkly.
“I knew it was never your fault.” Theria interjected quickly. “You gave me everything I wanted or needed, but the world has its views. A weak familiar would have weakened your image and it is my job to strengthen you and your magic.”
Silver let the hound reassure her as she stared at the wytches below. A glance at the windows showed she wasn’t the only one; looking though one of the long windows opposite her own, she could see Casey and Hannah staring down at their students while engaged in deep discussion.
“If we are allowing their friendship,” Silver began, “Are we doing away with the tourney?”
“Yes,” Theria decided. “It would only detract from where we need everyone’s focus to be; the war with the Ancients.” With those few words, Silver remembered the true purpose of Asha’s destiny and almost kicked herself. A tourney when her niece was supposed to be training for a far more deadly conflict? What had she been thinking?
Silver stroked a hand down the scales of Theria’s forehead. “Then we must find another way to earn her the respect of the dark wytches.”
Theria gave her a wolf-li
ke grin. “Shall I ask Roan to draw up some plans for her lessons?” She asked, “He could make it so that when you are teaching Asha to fight Masozi is receiving lessons from Keenan. She trusts him, and it would let her concentrate if she knew her friend was safe.”
Silver thought it over, as amusing as using Roan as her personal secretary could be, his organisation was severely lacking. “Ask Lena to do it.” She said, “She has a better idea of when I’m likely to be in and the times of day necessary for flying lessons.”
Theria’s head rose from its perch and Silver rolled her shoulder to get used to the lack of weight on it. “You plan on teaching her to use her wings?”
“It would be a waste of a bargain if she couldn’t use them. And if they are like mine they will provide a distinct advantage in combat.”
“I thought you would deny her them to teach her a lesson.”
“Theria, I can deny Asha all I want, but sooner or later she would decide to teach herself, and her falling from the sky is a sure-fire way for Romana to declare war on my wytches.”
The hound smirked, and the expression looked odd on her lupine face. “I wouldn’t put it past Asha to do that, or Romana to declare war over it.”
Chapter Twenty
FLESH, FEATHERS AND BONES
Romana walked through the corridors towards Marten’s study, her footsteps lighter than they had been in days. Asha had learned to fully communicate mentally over long distances within her first week, and knowing her daughter was only a psychic message away was a huge comfort. Silently, she wondered if Silver had taught Asha that first for this very reason. And even if that wasn’t her sister’s intention, Romana would thank her when they next met.
That morning she’d met with the other wytches of the Light Coven to discuss the healing centres. There was now one in every city, which meant that greater wytches had taken over the task of the wytch queens in defending their healers. Now Isolde, the Wytch Queen of Healing and the most obstinate dwarf she had ever met was pushing to open a second centre in Morendor. The debate within the coven over this proposal had lasted till noon, and still no decision had been made. The opposition rightly pointed out that expanding the existing centre would be more defensible and less hassle. Yet Isolde wanted to set another centre up in the crime riddled docks that sat on the banks of the river, just outside the city’s western wall. She argued that beggars and cripples rarely ventured into the city, and would be more likely to seek help if a healing centre was made available to them. The entire situation should have left Romana exhausted, but speaking to Asha had wiped that away, leaving her relaxed.
She knocked on Marten’s office door and entered without waiting for a reply. That was when she saw Kate standing at her husband’s desk, her eyes filled with tears. Kate saw Romana and teleported away without a word. That was when she knew whatever had happened was bad.
Marten walked around the heavy desk and approached her much like you would a frightened deer, or an animal that you had cornered and expected to lash out at you any second. His arms slowly made their way around her shoulders and he guided her through the office and into their adjoining rooms to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Romana,” He said gently, his eyes turned animal. “I promise you we will get her back.”
Frantically Romana checked her link to Asha, then to Silver and then…
“Katelyn.” She breathed the word catching on a sob as she searched and searched for the link that was hidden from her.
Hidden, not broken. She clung to that thought as her mind scrambled to come up with answers. She’d seen her ward just last night at dinner. She’d been fine; just her usual beaming, excitable Katelyn.
“Mother.” There was a loud thud on the roof before two dragon heads fought to fit through the balcony doors side by side. Ash looked sad, Icarus looked furious. “We’ll get her back.”
“When did this happen? Who did this?” Romana asked. “Why did this happen?”
Marten pulled her close to his chest as an ache inside of her grew so great that she couldn’t even cry. “Sweetheart,” He breathed, kissing her head. “I’ll find her.”
“Answer my question Marten.” Romana knew from the look he gave her and his hesitation whose fault it had been and drew back to look at him with fury. “What did Silver do? What has she done to Katelyn?”
“She didn’t do anything to her.” Marten rushed to answer her. “Llewellyn has her. He’s offering her release in exchange for the release of Maria.”
“But we don’t have Maria.” Romana was completely lost.
“Silver caught her a few days ago on her home-world.” Marten updated her. “There is no proof Katelyn isn’t fine. For all we know, Llewellyn won’t harm her in an effort to keep Gaillean and Kate from slaughtering him.”
Romana sat there, the pain and anger growing and growing at the thought of what was happening to the girl she had fought tooth and nail to keep innocent of these battles. Eventually, she couldn’t hold it back any longer, and flames exploded out of her, as her control on her magic slipped just a fraction. She had barely enough presence of mind to shield Marten and palace from the blaze. As a result the blasé left everything untouched, even as a hollow, dull feeling took up shelter in her chest.
“I have to find her.” Romana stood up and rushed towards the balcony doors. “I have to get her back.”
Marten was behind her in an instant, his arms turning to steel bands. “He’s an Ancient Romana! Leave this to Kate and Gaillean. He’s too powerful. They’ll make the trade, Maria for Katelyn.”
“And what if he decides that he should return her in the state Maria is returned in?” Romana demanded. “You can’t tell me that Silver has had a prisoner for days and hasn’t tortured her once!” She struggled against him, even as Icarus roared out into the night under the force of the anger flowing through their bond.
Grief and determination made her forget that she could breeze out of Marten’s arms until she was almost worn out completely. When she did remember, she could see Marten’s fangs sliding into place, perhaps thinking if he paralyzed her with the venom in them that she would stop struggling. It might have worked, but she turned her body to air just in time. He roared after her, begging her to come back. But Romana wasn’t listening to anything but the voice inside her telling her to find Silver and make her pay for what Katelyn was no doubt enduring.
It was same dark, calm sort of pain she had felt after Sarah’s death when she had murdered the slave master. And she knew in that moment she would do a hundred times worse to Silver if it would save Katelyn.
*
Silver felt the ripple of magic a second before she saw the column of fire blazing from Morendor from her place hovering in the air. She had been flying from the temple to Dalmorin when she had felt the build-up of energy so strong there were only a handful of wytches who could have created it.
Instinctively she checked the link she had to Romana only to find it sealed off from her behind shields of a fury so great she hadn’t believed it possible of her half-sister. Her thoughts turned instantly to what had caused it, and since the link to Asha through the Dark Coven was calm, she struggled to think of a reason.
That was when the very air turned against her in a blast that broke every bone in her outstretched wings instantly. Her mind catalogued the pain, taking inventory of her injuries before she even felt the beginning of her headlong descent into the ground. But then her trajectory changed, that same wind catching her and hurling her towards the mountain range behind her. She crashed against the rocks with an impact that would have killed a lesser being.
“Romana, what are you doing?” She yelled past the blood in her mouth as her body began to slide down the cliff. A quick check revealed that her lower half was paralyzed, her spine shattered in three places.
Somewhere in her mind she felt Theria howl in rage and Keenan desperately shoving energy at her, trying to help her heal herself. Her magic didn’t work like that, and he knew it, b
ut the idiot kept sending it to her anyway. She reached a dislocated arm towards her belt, searching for the phial of patho-demon blood, but that damned wind picked her up once again and slammed her back down, pinning her limbs outstretched even as Romana appeared in her incorporeal form above her. Floating in the air with her hair whipping around her face like an obscure halo her sister’s face was a mask of peace which was out of place considering the violence she was causing.
Silver had the funniest notion that this must be what her own victims saw on her face before she killed them.
Shrugging off the thought she opened a portal directly to the demonic realm.
“You kill me, and you can’t close that.” She struggled to talk past her broken jaw. “Demons will swarm your world and feast on those you love.”
It was a desperate attempt to appeal to the Romana she had known, but Silver knew it wouldn’t work. Romana wasn’t in control; her consciousness had retreated, leaving her on a rage fuelled autopilot. It was in that moment she realised that she probably wasn’t going to get out of this alive.
She’d almost accepted that when Theria burst into the clearing, some hundred feet below where Silver was pinned to the rock, her brothers at her sides. Silver wanted to curse them all for their stupidity. Romana was barely refraining from actually killing her, but the hellhounds wouldn’t stand a chance if she noticed them.
That was when she saw Asha on Theria’s back and her own rage ignited. How dare her familiar bring Asha into the middle of a brutal fight like this! She pulled on the power of the portal she had created, summoning through it a demonic wind that Romana couldn’t control and, though she had never tried to manipulate the very elements of the demonic realm before, she bent it to her will, using it to push back against Romana’s power and lift her down to the nearest ledge. Once there she wasted no time in glugging the phial of blood as fast as she could.
The resetting of bones was probably more painful than breaking them had been in the first place. Her wings still weren’t fully healed when she pushed off from the mountain side, demonic breeze surrounding Romana and cutting off her ability to use her power.
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