Witchrise

by Victoria Lamb

  ‘Stop!’

  Alejandro froze, the dagger poised above the princess’s chest. The room was silent.

  ‘When your Spaniard has killed the Lady Elizabeth, I will order him to kill himself,’ Marcus remarked coolly, turning back to me. ‘When her servants awake, they will see a dead Catholic priest with a bloodied dagger in his hand, and assume he drugged them, then murdered the Lady Elizabeth on the instructions of the Queen.’

  He was mad, I realized.

  ‘Like most men, I could never bow the knee to an unmarried woman,’ he continued smoothly. ‘It is against the natural order of things for a woman to rule a man. I have an excellent informant though, who has seen the future and tells me of a great virgin queen, a woman who will change the world and rule without a man to keep her passions in check.’

  He smirked. ‘I imagine you can guess her name, Meg. It is difficult enough to stomach her sister on the throne, but at least Queen Mary has seen sense and submitted to her husband’s will. But a queen who rules alone?’ He shuddered. ‘Too horrible to countenance. So since I have the power to do it, I intend to put an end to her unnatural reign before it has even begun.

  ‘The extent of my power is truly breathtaking. But like you, I cannot use it openly, lest I be hanged for the very crime I have so often punished with the gallows. One day, perhaps, I will be honoured for my conjurations and granted a place at court, as Merlin was in old King Arthur’s day. But for now, I must bide my time. Watch and plan, as it were.’

  Turning to me, Marcus Dent dragged the feathered cap from his head again, then shoved a hand through his fair hair, smoothing it down. I looked on at this preening, dismayed and a little bemused. Was the villain making himself presentable to me?

  ‘I have not made myself entirely plain, my dearest Meg.’ His voice softened, almost wistful. ‘Your friends will die here today. Unless you choose to help me.’

  The sun was full in my eyes, gold and blinding, but I could neither close my eyes nor move to avoid it. Tears came instead, blurring my vision until all I could see of the witchfinder was thick dusty shafts of light cutting across the Great Hall.

  If I could help Alejandro . . .

  Marcus came out of the dazzling, swimming light. We were so close, I could hear the rasp of his breath like that of a dying animal. Yet his face was handsome even in shadow, light dazzling behind his fair head like a halo.

  His blue eyes came to rest on my face, oddly tender.

  ‘I was angry with you last year, Meg. So very angry. For a long time I could think of nothing but your death, and the death of everyone you hold dear.’ He reached out and stroked a slow finger down my cheek. I could not move, not even to shudder. ‘But eventually I came to realize the truth.’

  The truth?

  ‘You are the only one who can appreciate the extent of my power. The only one with whom I can share my ambition.’

  His chest was almost touching mine now. He looked down at me for a long moment, examining my simple country gown, the tight bodice, my skirts full and heavy, then he looked slowly back up to my face. He was smiling, his eyes heavy-lidded, a slight flush in his cheeks.

  ‘You know me better than anyone else in this world, Meg. I was wrong when I tried to kill you last year, for there is a better way to deal with you. You are dangerous. But now I am dangerous too.’ His gaze dropped to my mouth. ‘So we can fight this out until one destroys the other. Or join forces, and let the world fear us instead.’

  My stomach turned over as I realized what the witchfinder was considering. It was too horrible. My heart began to thud violently. I felt sick, staring back at him in a fever of disgust and loathing.

  ‘I have dreamed of this moment, of our togetherness,’ he whispered. ‘Have you?’

  Inside the blank façade, my head was working furiously, my thoughts frenzied. If he was so very dangerous, why had the witchfinder not simply killed us as soon as he walked in? We were helpless, caught up in his spell, utterly vulnerable before his power.

  So why were we still alive?

  Marcus put his hands on my shoulders, his eyes gleaming with triumph and excitement, then leaned forward and placed his mouth against mine.

  The horror of the moment was scorched for ever into my mind as Marcus kissed me, holding me still with his spell while his mouth moved on mine, trying to awaken desire.

  After what felt like a skin-crawling eternity, Marcus pulled back and looked down into my face.

  ‘Between us we could create something miraculous. A child, perhaps.’ For a second his voice turned tender, persuasive. ‘You and I together, Meg. Nobody would have the power to stop us.’ Eagerly he searched my face in the silence.

  I stared back with hatred in my eyes, willing him to be swallowed up by an earthquake even if I had to die with him. A cloud seemed to pass over his face, and for an instant I saw the other Marcus, the one with the terrible scars and the ruined eye. Then the handsome face took over again, forcing the other man, the broken Marcus, back inside where he belonged.

  ‘So be it.’ His mouth twisted. ‘I should kill you and all your friends where they stand. But I am a pragmatic man. I shall let them live, and you too, if you will do something for me.’

  His intense blue gaze pierced me. ‘Can I trust you, Meg? If I release you from my spell, will you swear not to attack me? Though if you do’ – and he pointed at Alejandro – ‘he will be the first to suffer. You understand?’

  A second later, as though he had sensed my agreement, his spell released me. Slowly I lowered my aching arms to my side, waiting to hear what he intended for me.

  ‘In your chamber upstairs, there is a wooden chest. And in that chest are some objects that interest me greatly.’

  I turned my head, staring at him with creeping horror. ‘So it was you in my chamber last night,’ I whispered. ‘You possessed Alice?’

  Marcus smiled cruelly. ‘Go and fetch your mother’s things down to me. If you behave, I will spare your Spaniard.’ Seeing my indecision, he hissed at me, ‘Hurry, witch, or all your friends will die.’

  I did not trust him to keep his word. But my instinct was to get away from him, so I could think clearly without the fogging influence of his spells.

  I picked up my skirts and ran upstairs. Along the corridor I passed Richard, caught motionless like the others on his way down to us, still fastening a clean doublet, his leg stretched out mid-stride, a look of consternation on his face.

  Had Richard seen Marcus Dent from his chamber window and tried to reach me in time to warn me?

  The door to my chamber stood open. Bessie, one of the hall servants, was inside, frozen while sweeping the floor.

  I knelt before my mother’s chest and threw back the lid with shaking hands. My heart was racing. There was the straight hazel wand, the battered cauldron, the ropes and cards, her old grimoire, the double-coiled ring shining up at me . . .

  Instinctively I slipped the ring onto my finger, and felt stronger, more powerful, my head clearing at last.

  Why had Marcus not made Alejandro stab the princess, rather than just threaten to do so? And why send me upstairs to fetch these things instead of coming up for them himself?

  Why not just slaughter us all, and carry my mother’s chest away with him on his rotten enchanted horse?

  Because he can’t.

  My hands stilled on the rim of the wooden chest. The whole thing had been a charade. Marcus Dent did not have the power to kill any of us.

  THIRTEEN

  Lux

  There was a noise behind me in the doorway. This time I did not pause to think. I reached inside the chest for the hazel wand and I whirled, standing up.

  Marcus Dent was right behind me.

  ‘Wait!’ His blue eyes were blazing. ‘Strike, and I will kill them all.’

  ‘Do it, then,’ I taunted him. ‘Murder the princess. Destroy her servants. Burn Hatfield House to the ground.’

  ‘You think I cannot?’

  ‘I think you dare not
. You said it yourself: we need to be careful who knows of our power.’ I raised my eyebrows, my tone incredulous. ‘What, you would come here openly and kill the Queen’s sister? No place would be safe for you to hide after that.’

  Marcus Dent screamed at me. His whole body seemed to lurch towards me, growing vast in the same instant, his bulk filling the doorway, then the whole chamber, swelling impossibly fast. He was a mass of acrid black smoke again, no longer human, billowing about the room, and in the midst of it I could see his ruined white eye glaring, watching me.

  ‘Out!’ I cried, choking, covering my mouth with my sleeve. I pointed the hazel wand towards the place where Marcus had been. The power snaked down through my arm, my wrist, my hand, flying out of my fingertips like lightning. ‘OUT!’

  The chamber was empty.

  Next moment I was running, stumbling past Richard and touching him on the shoulder with the wand but not waiting to see if my counterspell would wake him. There was no time. I almost flew down the stairs, finding a confused Elizabeth awake and on her feet, her ladies coughing in the smoky air.

  Alice was sitting at the foot of the stairs, staring up as I descended, clearly unsure what had happened. She got to her feet as I passed, looking pale and shaken. ‘Meg? What happened?’

  I put a hand on her arm, saying, ‘Forgive me, Alice. There’s no time for explanations.’ Then I turned to our mistress. ‘Quick, where’s Alejandro?’

  Elizabeth’s face flushed angrily, for I had spoken without my usual deference, addressing her as though we were equals.

  Then she saw the look on my face. ‘I saw him go outside. But there was so much smoke in this hall, it was hard to see clearly. Is something on fire? I must have been asleep because I can’t remember how—’ Elizabeth called after me as I ran for the door, her voice sharp, ‘Meg, what is it?’

  I burst outside and stopped dead.

  Marcus Dent stood a few feet away beside his black horse, his back to me. Suspended in mid-air between us hung Alejandro de Castillo, his eyes still closed, his face blank.

  It was such a shock to see my beloved reduced to that state, so vulnerable, so unaware of the danger he was in, I could have thrown back my head and howled in fury and despair. Instead I raised my hand, and pointed the hazel wand at Marcus.

  ‘Remove your spell and let him go,’ I told him unsteadily. ‘Now!’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or I will blow you back into the void, Master Dent. You remember the void? It did that to you,’ and on the word that, I flourished the hazel wand in the same gesture I had seen him use before, and his handsome mask was stripped away, revealing the grim shell of his ruined face beneath. ‘I wonder what it will do a second time, Marcus?’

  The whole world shifted, blurring violently, and I staggered, my hand wavering, as though the earth had moved under my feet.

  The sky darkened. No, it blackened. I could see nothing. Not even the wand in front of my face. The big house was gone. Alejandro was gone. There was no remnant of spring sunshine left, not a glimmer, not a single shaft.

  I was inside a black cloud of Marcus Dent’s making, so thick and obscure that no light could penetrate it.

  And he was close by. I could hear him laughing.

  A violent wind buffeted me in the blackness. I fell to my knees, my cap wrenched off, hair lifting in the wind, whipping about my face.

  ‘Your mother’s wand,’ his voice roared at me. ‘I know it is in your possession. Give it to me. Give it to me now!’

  I shook my head and staggered to my feet, bent over almost in half to avoid being blown away.

  Lightning seared my eyeballs.

  ‘The wand!’ he insisted. ‘My men failed to kill your Spaniard when he rode out of Hatfield. But I will not fail, trust me.’

  Rain lashed at me, beating at my face, my hair, drenching my gown through. It clung to me, a wet rag.

  Marcus was behind me now, his voice a steel pin holding the darkness together. ‘I want that wand and I will have it. Or the Spaniard’s death will be on your head.’ His laughter was everywhere at once. ‘What is it to be? Your mother’s wand or Alejandro’s life?’

  Lightning flashed again, only a few feet away, knocking me off my feet. I crawled forward, wet grass under my palms. Everywhere was dark.

  My men failed to kill your Spaniard when he rode out of Hatfield . . .

  So Alejandro had been attacked by Dent’s gang on his way to Oxfordshire. Perhaps Marcus hoped that I would be weaker without Alejandro by my side. I strongly suspected that he was right. Even now, Alejandro was out of reach, in the hands of that monster, and all I could feel was my own weakness.

  I could have slapped myself with sheer frustration. Think, think, think!

  I forced myself to kneel up, peering about in the velvety blackness of the storm. Was that a gleam of sunlight I could see?

  ‘Meg, are you there?’

  With immense relief I recognized Richard’s voice. ‘Yes, yes!’ I cried hoarsely. ‘I’m over here, Richard. In this darkness.’

  ‘If you have it, use the wand!’

  Of course, I thought. What a fool I am.

  ‘Lux!’ I managed hoarsely, still on my knees, raising the hazel wand above my head, and at once the rain-smoke darkness was gone.

  Dazed and blinded by the sudden glare of sunlight, but still buffeted by the driving howl of the wind, I covered my eyes with my arm. Sand from the paths was being whipped up into the air, a sea of flying grit in my face.

  ‘Richard?’ I shouted into the raging, dust-filled light, my eyes narrowed to mere slits, knowing Dee’s apprentice could not be far away. Perhaps with his magickal skills we could defeat Marcus together. ‘Where is Alejandro? I lost him. Can you see him?’

  ‘Get up,’ Richard urged me, fear in his voice. ‘Quick, Meg! The horse . . .’

  But it was too late.

  As I lowered my arm, I heard a thundering on the grass, then looked up at a pair of shining black hooves, rearing up above me, the horse neighing wildly.

  Dent’s stallion!

  A hand grabbed me by the arm, dragging me sideways so that I fell heavily, the breath knocked out of me. Hooves struck the ground where I had been lying, and I stared up into Richard’s pale face, breathless.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he muttered, meeting my eyes. He raised his hand in a swift aversion-spell, and the black stallion turned as though terrified, veering sharply away across the lawns and heading for the trees.

  Richard squeezed my shoulder, suddenly grim. ‘Hurry, get up. Dent’s coming again.’

  My fist clenched around the slender hazel wand, and power thrummed in me, my scalp and fingertips tingling. Where was it coming from? I felt overwhelmed by this sudden surge of power, too strong for my body, everything inside me trembling and on fire.

  I turned to face Marcus Dent as he came striding across the grass. I felt as though a thousand bees were trapped inside my head, crawling about in a bee-gold huddle, buzzing at the underside of my skull, desperate to get out.

  ‘Foolish of you, Meg. When will you learn?’ Marcus lunged for the wand and hit my protective barrier, his hand bouncing back on a wave of pure fury. ‘Women’s magick! Child’s magick! It cannot last. I am the stronger here and you are only alive by my grace. Now give me that wand or see your beloved Spaniard die.’

  Again the world shifted. Suddenly Marcus Dent was standing before me on the grass, Richard flung backwards by some hellish wind, Alejandro held before Dent like a hostage. Alejandro’s body still hung limp; his eyes were closed and the witchfinder’s dagger was pressed to his throat.

  ‘The wand,’ Marcus said triumphantly. ‘Give me the wand.’

  I felt a gnawing in my guts.

  ‘You want to test my resolve, Meg?’ The knife pressed harder into Alejandro’s neck; two drops of blood oozed out. ‘The wand is what I came for. A prize indeed. But it was left to you as a bequest and I cannot use it without your permission. You must give it to me freely.’ He smiled
grimly, meeting my eyes. ‘A fair exchange. The Spaniard’s life for your mother’s wand. What do you say?’

  I stared at Alejandro. A thrush sang nearby in the branches. The blade pressed deeper.

  ‘Give me the wand and you shall have him.’ His smile made me shiver. ‘Why must you always defy me, Meg? For some women, my kiss has been a better prospect than the scaffold. I would offer you the same protection if you drop this defiance and kneel to me. I promise to be gentle.’

  I ignored his foul taunting. Richard had fallen near the house, blood on his temple. Beyond him, in the doorway, I could see the princess staring out, her ladies tugging frantically on her arms, stopping her from leaving the house.

  Everywhere I went, I dragged my friends into danger and left behind a trail of destruction. My hand wavered, then I lowered the wand.

  ‘Don’t you dare give up that wand, Meg Lytton!’ Richard shouted hoarsely. ‘Alejandro would not want you to give it to him. He would rather die and you know it.’ He struggled up onto his elbow and cried out, ‘Invictus!’

  ‘Invictus?’ Marcus repeated, his blue eyes flashing sharply from Richard’s face to mine. ‘What does he mean?’

  I took a step back and stared down at my mother’s ring. It glinted on my finger, a double ring of gold.

  Invictus.

  The hazel wand did not want to belong to him, I knew that much. Its power flowed as if coming from the earth itself, the good English dirt beneath my feet, strength tingling in my veins, along my arm, then out through my mother’s wand.

  The spell struck Alejandro in the face like a bucket of cold water, and in the same second I yelled, ‘Excite!’, meaning ‘Wake!’ in Latin.

  The force of the spell knocked Marcus backwards, taken unawares by my sudden attack. Released from the witchfinder’s grasp, Alejandro fell clumsily to the ground.

  Marcus roared. His face shifted back to the scarred visage I remembered from the year before, his white eye glaring at me fiercely.

  ‘You will suffer for that, witch!’ He sketched a gesture in the air, and I froze, half expecting to be blown away or turned to stone.