by Erin Hayes
He scowled at her, then returned his attention to wait for the Regent’s command. In a few moments, Dvorak would turn off the runestone encasing the arena so that Alec could get in there and kill the Ravager. He would have mere moments to proceed; Dvorak would need to reseal the arena before the Ravager could escape.
Alec still, to this day, winced whenever a runestone was turned off. It reminded him too much of the day he’d lost his sister. But he couldn’t let emotion distract him.
The sky crackled overhead, and Alec braced himself for the Regent’s words.
“It is with great sorrow to learn the Sector will remain without a Queen,” he said, his voice heavy and forlorn. “But may we remain ever-vigilant and ever-hopeful for the sake of the Sector! This woman’s death will not go unavenged!”
With that, as the crowd roared around him, the lamp posts over the arena turned off, and in that split second, Alec rushed into the arena before the Regent turned them back on.
Alec didn’t so much as pause. He charged toward the Ravager, wielding the Sector’s most sacred sword. The only thing sharper was the Ravager’s claws, so when the beast swung toward the blade, Alec spun, taking the brunt of the attack with his back. He was always more careful with the sword than with himself as it was the last remaining rune-sword in the Sector and therefor the only one the Regent could charge before a fight. It’d been trusted to Alec for a reason, and with each breath Alec took, he was determined to prove his worthiness as head of the Witch Hunters and Keeper of the Sword.
Enough people had died. He would not allow anyone more than necessary to get hurt.
Alec continued to spin, his movement away from the Ravager minimizing the damage to Alec’s body. He ground his teeth together and arced the sword toward the Ravager again.
The beast darted away, though, and the sword crashed into the red dirt of the arena, coating the metal blade in the same film that had dusted over his legs.
Another turn to charge the beast brought the girl from market into his peripheral vision. But that wasn’t right. The world should be dark to him now. It should have disappeared around him the moment he stepped into the arena, the way it always did. His focus should have blurred her right out of existence.
The Ravager’s claws slashed through his pants and into the outermost side of thigh. Alec grunted, but before he could regain his focus, the Ravager swung its oversized arms again, forcing Alec to slide against the ground to avoid being hit a third time.
What had gotten into him?
Over a girl!
His blood splattered against the dirt, and the dirt caked against his wounds. This was a mess. The gasps he should be blocking out right now told him the crowd was afraid. If he died, who would fight the Ravager? If the Doomed Queen could not be avenged, what promise was that to their own safety? They needed Alec to win this fight even more than he needed to, because a Witch Hunter could be replaced, but hope—at least in this world—could not.
He twisted away from another pounding swing of the Ravager’s claws, then rolled back up to his feet, staying crouched low to the ground. He needed to get the Ravager’s heart, and he needed to do so without the Ravager destroying the sword.
This event was the reminder he needed. The blood cleansed his guilt over the death of the Doomed Queen. As hard as it was, everyone needed to make sacrifices in this world, even if that sacrifice was their life. And this was why. They were not strong enough to face the Ravagers, and the Regent needed help to run the Sector and keep everyone safe.
The traditions only served to help with that—to keep hope alive, to keep the city trusting that the Regent would do whatever necessary to give them an heir and to keep them safe, even with the failing magic of the runes.
The same failing magic that resulted in his sister’s death, and the same failing magic that could ultimately kill everyone watching this battle if one of the runestones encasing the arena failed.
As the Ravager stalked toward him, he saw his opening and lunged from the ground, directing the sword at the beast’s chest. But the Ravager’s hand came up, and claws crashed into the sword, slicing the metal clear from the handle.
Before Alec could react, another set of claws swung, and he dipped his head out of the way. But not far enough. The razor-sharp nails grazed his neck.
Wounds burning in the late afternoon sun, Alec dove for the discarded piece of metal in the red dirt. In one swift moment, he ripped off a piece of his pants while dogging another swing from the Ravager. He came back around, winding the fabric around his hand and then picking up the sharp blade from the ground.
This was it. He might not agree with the way Dvorak ran the Sector, but his cruelty was never without purpose. Perhaps the Regent’s magic wasn’t strong enough to kill the Ravager, but his leadership was strong enough to keep the city hopeful and the citizens in order, and Alec would not be the one to ruin that.
He charged the beast again, this time aiming for the neck. The blade sank into the gray flesh, and the Ravager hissed a roar. Alec removed the sword and plunged it again a second time, this time succeeding on impaling the beast through the heart.
The sword did not kill the beast. It staggered, but did not fall, and the sword just stuck out from its chest, leaving Alec without a weapon.
This was it. His failure would become legend. His death would destroy the sector. It wasn’t right. With Alec’s experience, this should have been easy. With the Regent’s help, this should have been over by now.
Yes, sacrifices must be made for the good of the Sector, but was the best thing this Sector could bring forth the magic of their current Regent?
This couldn’t be the end. All those sacrifices could not be for nothing. The Ravager needed to die to keep hope alive—hope that was needed to keep the city going until Dvorak’s heir came forth. A stronger witch—that was what they all hoped for—one who still had the same strength of character as their current Regent.
The Ravager was regaining balance now, which didn’t leave Alec with much time. He darted across the arena and tackled the beast, grabbing the sword’s blade and trying to dislodge it from the Ravager’s chest.
It was stuck.
As he pulled again, the Ravager wailed and swiped at Alec’s arm. He needed to act fast. The Regent could not mind the arena’s lamp posts to protect the city from the Ravager within and heal Alec at the same time. But he could heal Alec once the beast was dead.
The sword would still not budge, though.
He wrapped his hands around the blade tighter, but before he could pull, the sword dislodged, as if by…
Magic.
He plunged the sword back into the heart again, and this time, the Ravager’s body twisted and contorted.
Almost there.
Alec twisted the blade, then looked up, searching the crowd while he finished the beast off. Someone out there was a witch.
And they’d helped him.
But that didn’t change the need for tradition. When this Ravager was dead, Alec would have to hunt them down.
The Ravager stopped moving, and Alec dropped the blade and fell to his back beside the beast. He stared up at the darkening sky—or was it his vision that was darkening—as his adrenaline wore off and the pain of his injuries flared up along his flesh. He could feel blood matting against his hair, which meant he’d been hit in more places than he remembered.
But it was done now. The Ravager was dead.
Above him, the dome flickered and disappeared, and the Regent loomed over him.
“Well done, my boy,” Dvorak said, smiling down at him. “You did well. But alas, we have more work to do.”
With that, electricity funneled from the sky and down Dvoraks hand. The ground beneath them buzzed with the Regent’s magic, and Alec’s wounds began to reverse. An awkward feeling, like a paper cut being split open. Still there, still a sensation, but no blood or pain.
His stomach roiled with the discomfort, but it was a welcome relief from agony. Just a f
ew more moments and…
There.
His body relaxed, and he let out a slow breath. The Regent reached down and helped Alec to his feet. He raised Alec’s hand and spun in a slow circle, showing him off to the spectators.
“Our Sector is again victorious!” Regent Dvorak said.
The crowd cheered, perhaps louder than Alec had ever heard. He understood it immediately; they had the privilege of being untouched by personal loss, so to them, his near death experience did not frighten them. They only saw one thing: that as close as he had come to death, he’d still succeeded. And with new runestones around the kingdom failing every day, they needed to know that. Needed to know that no matter how bad things got, there was still hope.
When the Regent lowered Alec’s hand, he let out a relieved sigh. The crowd’s attention shifted solely to him.
“Do not despair, people of Sector One,” the Regent continued. “Your True Queen is out there. She is watching, and we will find her.”
The crowd began to disperse, as that was always the way the Regent ended the Display, but then he spoke again.
“Stop!” he shouted.
The people froze, then slowly turned back, the confusion writ on their faces.
“No woman is to leave the square.” As he said this, it seemed all of the guard was coming out from posts to barricade around the citizens. “We will be testing for witches today, starting with the stadium.”
Whispers crested through the crowd but faded as Dvorak held up a small compass-like object. But instead of cardinal points, this compass had runestones.
“You see this?” he asked. “This is the future! With this device, we can find witches faster—find your True Queen sooner—bring forth an heir more promptly. This device will save lives.”
Alec blinked, trying to process this. Dvorak and the guard and Alec himself had just allowed a Ravager to kill a woman to see if she was a witch, and the Regent had this all along?
Something deep inside of Alec bristled, but he pushed it down. He would talk to Dvorak later. The Regent would have a reasonable explanation. For now, Alec just needed to do his part to protect the Sector. That meant finding another witch, and hopefully this witch tester device would help make that happen.
Without so much as looking at Alec, the Regent handed over the device. “Magic is a force, Alec,” he said, “it will push away from the person. Let the compass lead you, and when you find her, use the point to sample her blood. That will give you the confirmation you seek.”
Alec turned the device around in his hand, locating a small needle point on the underside of the compass surrounded by strange markings that grooved into the stone.
“Yes, my Regent,” he said solemnly, knowing what this meant.
This device would lead him to the woman who had just saved his life—a woman destined to become the next Doomed Queen.
He ground his teeth and started with the front row of the crowd, going through the line one by one. A sharp stone needle wavered, but stayed pretty standard in its position: facing the women. As Alec had no magic of his own, that meant the Regent had blessed the device to be used by someone without.
Carved into the wooden case that held the runes and stone needle were two words: human and witch. When the needle pointed away from Alec and toward them, it was solidly on the human marker.
This was going to take all day.
But someone here was a witch. How else could that blade have dislodged from the Ravager’s body?
As he continued down the row, the needle’s behavior changed, wobbling more, though still remaining on the human position. He looked up, scanning the crowd.
Whoever it was must be a woman. The guard already knew all the male witches in town, and none were here now. He spun back to the Regent, but Dvorak’s back was turned as he conversed with Alec’s comrade, Constantine.
Alec bit into his lip as he looked down at the device. On the side was a small dial. If Alec knew the Regent at all—and he knew him pretty well by now—this device was set to find someone at least as powerful as him. Since there was no sense sending another Doomed Queen who was less powerful into the arena, he quickly twisted the dial to a higher position. At least now no one would be selected unless they were more powerful than the Regent.
He continued with his procession, but before he made it another two steps, the dial flew to the side. His gaze continued down the row in an attempt to discover what was causing the action. A sudden movement without a face drew his attention immediately.
Someone was trying to sneak farther back into the crowd.
He pushed through, the device in his hand practically humming with energy. But he broke all the way through to the other side of the crowd and still hadn’t found anything. He glanced around, taking a few tentative steps to see what the device would do. It seemed to be guiding him toward the old woman’s cart from earlier.
As he jogged over, the woman’s cloudy eyes settled on him. “May I help you?”
The needle pointed right at her, and he shook his head. “No, ma’am, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me.”
Something shifted behind her cart, and the hood of a familiar cloak peeked out from the other side.
“Of course,” the woman said, stepping to the side and placing herself directly in front of him. “I’m sure you can understand why I hide,” the old woman continued. “Clearly I’m too old to have children.”
Alec waved her off. This wasn’t right.
The old woman wasn’t the witch...
But the woman hiding behind her was.
Chapter Five
She couldn’t make out their conversation, but she heard their voices, more like tones and garbled words peeking through the banter of the marketplace.
She should have left sooner. But she hadn’t, and now look what had happened.
This was why she never watched the end of the Doomed Queen’s displays. The beginning, sure. Like everyone else, she wanted hope, and her need for it was two-fold: One, to know there was a witch out there strong enough to protect the Sector, and two, to know she had time before they would come looking for her to be that very witch.
But she could never watch the end. She could never stand by while a Ravager took a life. Deep down, she knew that if she were to watch the fanged beast tear these women apart, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from using magic to save them, and that meant risking her own capture.
How foolish she had been to think this time would be any different. As if she could stand by and do nothing just because the person in the arena was a witch hunter.
The chatter on the other side of the cart stopped. Was he gone? She stood stone-still, straining to hear something—anything—over the distant voices of the crowd. Surely at this close proximity she would hear them if they were still discussing, even if their voices were low. But it was as though the cart and everything around it had frozen in time.
Then she heard it—feet shuffling closer. The Witch Hunter, surely.
Alec.
Her heart jumped at his name.
Maybe that was why she’d helped him. The man in the crowd had taken her nameless enemy and made him human. And now that enemy had a new device that would make her nature impossible to hide.
By now, he had probably ruled out the old woman. He would continue on to the next person. Adira just needed to stay very still and make sure that next person wouldn’t be her.
The cart creaked…or was she imagining that?
Adira trembled, her efforts to still herself futile. She held her breath as if somehow whoever was about to come around to this side of the cart might be able to hear her breathing over the buzz of the market.
Had the old woman seen Adira duck behind the cart? If she had, she surely would have said something. Alec would confront Adira about the theft, and in doing so, discover her a witch.
And then what? Did he realize the faceless witch he was searching for was the same who saved him back in the arena?
Would he even care?
The man in the crowd had made it pretty clear that Alec was bound by a duty even greater than the one assigned to him.
She couldn’t let him find her, couldn’t let him use that device on her. Forget for a moment that she would never be strong enough to kill a Ravager with her magic alone, the fact remained that even if she could somehow survive the Display, she would still have Regent Dvorak to contend with.
And maybe no one wanted to say it, but surely everyone thought the same as she. He never gave those women a real chance to get pregnant. He was too impatient, killing them off too fast. Perhaps Sector One would have an heir by now if he could wait longer than a couple months before claiming the women were infertile. Did he not see his impatience was likely the biggest factor in the delay?
Another step scuffled against the dirt, closer now. Adira could sense him just out of sight, one step away from discovering her.
What was she waiting for? Did she think he would suddenly get distracted, turn around, and walk away? If it was Alec, there was nothing to distract him. The Regent assigned him to this task. The other guards would handle whatever else there was to handle.
No, now was not the time for Adira to hope.
Now was the time for Adira to run.
Adira took a deep breath and bolted. A man shouted for her to stop—Alec, no doubt, but she didn’t so much as pause to look back.
Her feet pounded against the red clay dirt of the marketplace, kicking up dust. She wove between the people, crashing shoulders with a few who didn’t dodge from her path fast enough. Her gaze flickered around, placing one guard after the next.
The Regent had said no one was to leave until the next witch was found. All eyes were on her now as she ran, but it wasn’t as though she could have snuck away. Alec had been to close.
Now what?
How was she supposed to formulate a plan to sneak away while dodging an army of guards?