The next portal she cast lead them straight outside, onto the roof of one of the tallest towers of Dalmorin. Above them, Kate’s shield developed spider webbing cracks under invisible blows of magic, yet they healed seconds later.
But those seconds were still too slow.
Silver searched the sky for any sign of Llewellyn, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. Trying to trace the source of the attacks on the shield was also futile, as they came at random from every direction.
“Where is he?” She demanded of Issart’e and Dukran as they emerged from a trapdoor behind her.
“No idea.” Dukran didn’t seem concerned; a grin split his face as he cracked his knuckles while looking up at the sky.
His twin, in contrast, looked pale and drawn, no doubt recalling his earlier time spent with his father.
“Kate’s shields are strong.” He noted, but nonetheless casting his own golden shields around the four of them.
“I still can’t locate him,” Keenan said.
The bolt of realisation hit like a bolt of lightning. “He’s not on this world.” Silver spat. “He’s on his own little plane watching and controlling everything from safety.” She paused. “COWARD!” She yelled into the night. “If you’re so powerful come and prove it instead of cowering from mortals!” Her taunts echoed across the mountains.
It took a few moments, but her shouting definitely had an effect. The earth beneath them began to tremble in ever increasing bursts, while outside of the shields the hills broke apart, rising and falling.
When Llewellyn appeared in the glowing golden flash typical of an Ancient’s teleport Dukran bellowed in rage and excitement. Silver laughed humourlessly at the sight of his glowing golden armour, so obviously made of the same magical energy as Issart’e’s shields. Llewellyn was taking every precaution, but it wouldn’t save him in the end when she mounted that dark haired head on a pike.
“How grand it is of you to join us oh Philandering One.” She smirked as his blasts against Kate’s shields grew stronger.
Wytches flew up to the barrier on brooms and then quickly dispersed in a move meant to bring the Ancient further into a rage. As predicted he moved closer, and for a second the barrier between them flickered with the ferocity of his attacks.
“Damn,” Silver assessed the rate at which the condition of the shields was deteriorating. “Kate said we’d have more time than this!”
“Is he in enough of a rage to come straight for us?” Keenan asked
“Maybe, but we need him to land.” Silver replied.
“Nice seeing you again!” Dukran yelled. “Our mother sends her regards.”
“I should have killed the whore while you were in her womb.” Llewellyn shouted back. It would have saved me some trouble later!”
Issart’e’s face lost some of its pallor at that comment and his brows drew together with a rage that faintly resembled his brother’s.
“You don’t deserve to speak of her!” He yelled back and Silver sensed a vicious psychic blast ripple towards Llewellyn.
*
Kate watched from above the clouds as Llewellyn attacked the mountain where Asha had been sleeping just moments ago. Gaillean, Marta and Isaac stood beside her, floating invisible as they waited for Silver’s plan to unfold.
It had been tough, even with Marta’s help, to convince Isaac to help them. Trapping your brother so that his enemies could rip him to pieces was never an easy plan to suggest to a sibling. Isaac had tried everything to convince them that there must be another way, and then he had tried to refuse only to be told by his wife that unless he helped she foresaw the death of so many of his other siblings.
“It is time.” Marta said, her eyes hazy with the amount of foresight she was channelling.
Kate took a deep breath of air that suddenly felt dry in the back of her throat. For Romana and Asha, she reminded herself.
Gaillean took her right hand, while Isaac took her left. Marta was quick to complete the circle, sending a ripple of magic through their joined hands. The moment Llewellyn stepped foot on the tower from which Silver yelled her insults was their queue. Slowly Kate had degraded the shield she had created till it appeared to shatter and now their brother levitated forwards with the intent to kill everyone for miles. But the moment his armoured feet stood on the stone of Dalmorin the trap activated.
Kate struggled to keep focus. All of this would be worthless if she couldn’t manage to maintain the shield that kept their actions invisible from the other Ancients. It was essential that everyone believed Silver and the Dark Coven had managed this by themselves, otherwise the remnants of the Council would never fear the wytches and Llewellyn’s death would be the Ancient’s murder rather than Silver’s self-defence.
Kate’s eyes flittered downwards to the scene unfolding below. Gaillean was holding Llewellyn immobile with Isaac as planned, trapped that way by their magic. The battle was being continued in the form of an illusion woven by Marta to deceive anyone – Ancient or otherwise – who was watching into believing that Llewellyn fought until the very end.
But in reality Asha was ascending the steps of the tower, followed closely by Masozi.
A tear leaked from Kate’s eye as she saw her grandchild prepared to take her second life no more than a day after the first. As Asha approached Llewellyn the Dark Coven landed on the top of the tower as well leaving half of the tower to Asha’s right clear. With an extra tug on their shared magic the four Ancients teleported every member of the Light Coven into the empty space.
It hurt Kate to see the look on Romana’s face as she took in the scene. The hatred as her daughter’s eyes latched onto Silver, followed by the devastation as her gaze shifted to Asha who wouldn’t even glance at her mother. She doubted anyone noticed Keenan shift subtly closer to Silver as if to defend her should Romana try to kill her sister again. It made for a strange tableau, Asha standing in front of Llewellyn in the space between two hostile covens of wytches.
Then Asha began to draw the power from Llewellyn and the Light Coven realised exactly why they were present.
There were gasps as power began to fill all of the wytches present. Kate could sense the majority was being funnelled into Romana and Silver, boosting them both equally. Slowly but surely the amount of power they had to spent to keep Llewellyn in place decreased. Their brother’s power waned as he screamed and screamed. His magical armour flickered and fell away as he lost the ability to hold it in place and Kate could see age finally taking effect on him. Soon he fell to the ground, and Asha moved with him, kneeling beside the fallen Ancient as a golden aura of power began to surround her.
Perhaps Silver commanded it, or perhaps Asha sensed the twins’ need for vengeance, because she stopped drawing power from Llewellyn just as he began to die. Issart’e and Dukran approached as Asha stood back. The brothers exchanged a few words mind-to-mind which Kate ignored as to respect her nephew’s privacy. The result was Dukran passing his golden spear to his brother. Issart’e smiled as he drew his father’s kneeling body towards him, and shoved the tip of the spear straight into Llewellyn’s heart.
As he died, Asha placed her hand back on his forehead and Kate took a second to figure out what the child was doing as she directed the remainder of the Ancient’s immortal life essence away from the wytches and towards Morendor.
When she realised, she smiled. Her granddaughter was boosting King Marten’s life force. Essentially making him as ageless as Romana was. Romana must have figured it out as well because she began to smile like the sun, the flames on her skin growing brighter as a result of her happiness.
Though Marten could still be killed, he would never again have to fear age or illness; a gift from his daughter. A gift which Kate thought showed exactly how much Asha loved her parents.
And then it was over. Llewellyn was dead.
Ancients could no longer be called immortals.
Isaac and Marta teleported away instantly with grief stricken faces. Kate, in part, felt
that same grief. He may have been a pig, have fathered monsters and been a disgrace, but Llewellyn had still been her brother. As her eyes met Gaillean’s, however, she knew there was only one emotion he would see on her face. It was the same expression that she could see in his.
Hope.
Chapter Twenty-Six
SHOCK
It was a week later when things had finally calmed down enough for a meeting to be called. Llewellyn’s body lay in the meadow where the Council Hall had once stood. Now the remaining twenty Ancients were gathered in a loose ring around his funeral pyre. White fire engulfed the body of their fallen brother, his corpse mercifully draped in an elaborately woven sheet.
No-one had spoken yet, and although the divide between them was clear, it didn’t seem to matter at that moment. Even if not all of them felt grief at Llewellyn’s passing, the shock at realising he was truly dead had clearly overtaken some of them. Yet as Kate looked across the circle to where Ellamae stood, she saw neither grief nor shock. No, Ellamae’s face was calculating, scheming.
“Gaillean,” She began telepathically, however, he cut her off.
“Asha is safe,” He reassured her. “Ellamae will not act until the grace period is ended.”
“How can you be sure?” Kate asked.
“She sees it as below herself to spring an unexpected attack such as the one you suspect her of. Ellamae’s arrogance will ensure she sticks to the rules.”
Kate agreed with his logic. “How did we become this?” She asked. “At the beginning of days we would never have considered doing what we did.”
“The Law of Logic warped the minds of all who tried to conform to it.” Gaillean stated mournfully to the circle, and Kate realised it was as much in answer to her question as it was an opening to Llewellyn’s funeral speech. “For Llewellyn it marked the beginning of the road which led to his eventual demise. But we need not remember him this way.” Gaillean paused meaningfully. “I choose to remember Llewellyn as he was when we were first formed; innocent and untroubled by the concerns of the worlds.”
As speeches went, Kate thought to herself, it wasn’t bad. In any case, Gaillean had been polite enough to gloss over Llewellyn’s whoring and warmongering. Kate wasn’t sure she would have been able to do the same.
But all of these thoughts were taking place in the back of her mind as she studied Ellamae. Silver had made it clear to everyone that the woman was hers alone to kill. The insane wytch believed she could take on an Ancient in one-to-one combat and live. Perhaps she would do it, although Kate remained doubtful. Even if she did, Kate wouldn’t mind helping Silver with the task. She’d do the same to anyone who considered harming her grandchild.
They stayed that way for hours, watching the flames. Kate idly wondered if they were all like her, staying only because they were unsure when would be the polite time to leave. As far as she knew, no Ancient had reason to know funeral etiquette. Kate knew a little, but only because she had attended so many wytch funerals.
When the fire went out, leaving the earth beneath it charred, Kate and Gaillean left immediately. She had assumed that he would also teleport to Romana to inform her of Ellamae’s new grudge, yet she sensed him travel to the Temple of the Dark Coven instead and gave a little sigh.
Romana was sitting in her office, despite the early hour. Seeing Kate, her expression brightened, and she stood to hug her.
“Llewellyn’s funeral is over.” Kate notified her daughter once the hug had ended. “But the Council had now realised the threat posed to our race by Asha’s extraordinary powers. They will come for her.”
“Let them try.” Romana’s fiery skin blazed hot for a brief instant before her daughter brought her emotions under control. “Every wytch in both Covens will fight to protect her now.”
Kate nodded absently, pacing around the book covered walls of her daughter’s round office room. “Both your father and I will, of course, pledge our aid to protect our grandchild. But we cannot be everywhere at once. Silver and yourself must co-ordinate with each other as a matter of urgency. Asha will be more vulnerable here among the Light Coven but she must continue her training. She cannot be guarded by the Dark Coven or they will question of her strength and abandon her at the first opportunity. And the Light Coven possesses too few martial gifts for the task.”
“I’ll do it. She’s my daughter.” Romana interrupted. “I’m her mentor anyway; she’ll spend all of her time with me.”
Kate gave her daughter a shallow nod of approval, her thoughts still locked on the way Ellamae had looked at her during the funeral. “Be extra vigilant.” She warned.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
HUMILIATION
Asha woke slowly, the knowing that something was wrong gradually intensifying. Someone, she realised, was in the room with her. She kept her eyes closed, trying to identify where they were in the room using her ears alone.
A blade touched her neck.
“You’re now dead.” Silver’s merciless voice informed her and she groaned.
In the last few months of her stay Silver had begun teaching her how to avoid being killed at every turn. Ordinarily Asha wouldn’t care; however, the problem was that her aunt had become rather concerned about it to the point of obsession. No matter if it was morning, evening or night, if she was surrounded by people or alone on a riding trip. Silver would shoot arrows at her feet, touch knives to her throat, and on one memorable occasion had poisoned her using a spiked drink.
“Aunt Silver, we’ve been through this.” Asha began drowsily. “Anyone who tries to kill me will likely be using magic. So jumping out in the middle of the night probably won’t prepare me for anything.”
Silver, in her paranoid lecturing manner, began the same rant Asha had heard at least two dozen times before. Asha tried her best to tune it out, smothering her ears with her pillow. Unfortunately Silver’s voice just seemed to get louder and louder.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too paranoid?” Asha asked grumpily, pushing the covers back as she sat up in bed, her hair messy and her eyes feeling clogged with sleep.
“Better paranoid and alive.” Silver retorted, “Your mother and I cannot be your constant bodyguards. You need to learn to take care of yourself or end up like Katelyn.”
Asha was almost certain that she visibly flinched. “That was a low blow.” She retorted.
“Necessary,” Silver countered, “If you die, your mother will probably wipe out everyone on this world in a firestorm caused by grief.”
“She’s not that emotional.” Asha objected, already feeling defeated.
“Not to mention the years of torture I would heap upon your assassin.” Silver continued as if Asha hadn’t spoken. “Both covens would probably then annihilate each other in a war sparked by that.”
Guilt joined the sense of defeat that grew in Asha’s stomach.
“Fine!” She yelled back over Silver’s continued rant. “You win! I’ll pay attention to your silly game!”
Silver went dangerously quiet. “This is not a game.” Her voice was deadly cold.
The sounds of stomped footsteps were quickly followed by a piercing light flash as the door was opened and then slammed; each action deafening in the otherwise pitch black room.
With a sigh Asha threw back the remaining covers and stood, rubbing her eyes. Her wytch clothes changed seamlessly into armour as she moved, the enchantment on the threads still lightning fast as ever after almost a year of use.
She manually lifted the shutter on the lamp in her room, illuminating the bare walls. Asha had brought little with her when she had come to her aunt, and being in constant training had left little time for the collection of any more belongings. Not to mention that the dark wytches strongly discouraged possessiveness, their scepticism of any non-useful items something they carried with them from their times as persecuted rogues.
As such there were very few books in the Dark Temple; most knowledge was passed down orally from teacher to studen
t, rather than through the writings of long-dead wytches as the light wytches’ was. Yet another example of the antiquated system that Silver preferred.
Outside her room, Lena was waiting for her, her lunch wrapped in parchment for her to take with her to training. The brownie’s grim smile did nothing to set Asha’s mind at ease. It wasn’t until she and Masozi were halfway towards the Dark Temple that Asha let out her frustration.
Their run had been silent until that point (Masozi still had to concentrate to use the speed afforded her by her fey heritage) but when they stopped her smaller friend looked at her questioningly.
“What’s the matter?” Masozi asked, her gossamer wings fluttering.
“I ticked off my aunt again.” Asha grated. “I told her to stop playing her unnecessary games.”
Masozi winced. “Not the best of ideas.” She commented.
“She’s just so infuriating!” Asha ranted. “All she ever does is find fault after fault with anything that I do. She doesn’t even notice that I’m getting better at everything! That’s what she’s afraid of; one of these days I’ll be better than even her!”
“Asha!” Masozi cautioned. “You might want to…”
But the thoughts wouldn’t stop leaving Asha’s mouth. “She’s just jealous that she grew up being tortured to brilliance while I’m better without even trying.”
“Is that so?” A cool voice enquired from the shadows.
Masozi paled farther, and Asha looked her shoulder to see Keenan standing directly behind her, rage and sorrow warring for dominance in his expression.
Sunlight burst into the tunnel. Asha barely had time to locate the source as a secret door to the surface before she was grabbed beneath her arms and hauled into the sunshine.
Silver’s presence had been expected from the moment she’d seen Keenan. However, as she blinked and tried to adjust to the light, she saw the rest of the Dark Coven surrounding them in a loose semi-circle. It took a few precious seconds to read Silver’s expression and deduce that the others’ presence was not planned, and a few more moments to realise that this would mean that instead of a talk about being more careful with her words Asha was now going to be thoroughly put in her place by the end of this.
Asha's Power (Soul Merge Saga Book 4) Page 18