Runaway Witch

by N. D. MacLaine

  I sighed, nodding. I held my hand to the pentagram, called magic, and said, “Azrathael: I, Alyssa Jane Barrett, seek an audience.”

  The lines of the pentagram began to glow, and light shot upward from its points to form a cage. Within its boundaries, a shadowy shape formed, tall and beastly, before resolving into a man in a suit.

  The same man in a suit I would later banish in the library.

  He didn't speak at first. Instead, he tested random spots of the cage to ensure the pentagram was secure.

  “My pentagrams are always solid,” I said as though I summoned demons all the time.

  Azrathael cocked his head at me and said, “And to what do I owe this... pleasure, Ms. Barrett?”

  “We seek information,” I said. “The location of Tasraan's keystone.”

  The demon's eyebrows rose. “Really, now? And what do I gain by providing this information?”

  Demons. Nothing is free with them. “Do you know where it is?” I asked.

  “I can certainly point you in the right direction. Which, I assume, is more than you currently know. But I ask again: what do I gain?”

  I chewed my lip. “What do you want?” Itwas a horrible response, but in truth, I had never negotiated with a demon before. This was, in fact, my first summoning. Not surprisingly, Stephen had forbidden us from dealing with hell spawn. He'd taught us the pentagram so we could trap and banish them, not call them.

  “Two weeks freedom to walk the earth,” Azrathael answered.

  Chris looked at me sharply. Demons generally have no way to cross into our world unless summoned. When they manage to get here, they like to wreak all kinds of havoc (see: Tasraan). This was an area to tread lightly.

  “An exchange of information,” I counter-offered. Demons love information and will sometimes trade in it.

  Azrathael snorted. “Young lady, I assure you that there is absolutely nothing interesting you could tell me. Besides, you are asking for knowledge of an implement that can resurrect one of the most destructive of my kind. Such information carries a higher cost.”

  I sighed and thought for another moment. “Two days,” I said.

  “One week,” he replied. “Final offer.”

  I caved. “Fine, but with stipulations.”

  “I'm listening.”

  I said, “You draw no attention. You harm no one–”

  He cut me off. “I kill no one.”

  I was getting a headache. “You kill no one. And if another witch manages to trap you, you're subject to their banishment.”

  The demon nodded. “Agreed. The keystone is located somewhere in a town called Chandler, Pennsylvania. It is hidden amongst other stones, and it only arrived there recently. That is all I know.”

  With his end of the bargain fulfilled, the cage around the pentagram disappeared. “Good evening,” he said, then vanished. I didn't know if he'd simply turned invisible, teleported, or moved very quickly.

  I turned to Chris. “You have to get moving. Your flight to London leaves in a couple of hours. I'll head to Chandler to find the stone. You meet me there.”

  He took me in his arms and kissed me. “Text me, keep me up to date,” he said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I replied.

  * * * * *

  The fog returned and took me to another memory. I was creeping through Stephen's kitchen late at night, carrying a duffel bag.

  The light came on, and Stephen was standing at the door that led into the backyard. “Alyssa,” he said, sorrow in his voice. “Did you think I wouldn't know?”

  I gulped.

  “Working against me,” he continued. “I took you into my home. Gave you food, shelter, training. Made you part of my family. And you could betray me so easily?”

  I said nothing, just stared past him, refusing to meet his gaze.

  “You have to stop this,” Stephen said. “It's foolishness. Chris will come back to us if you end this. He loves you, after all.”

  I released the magic I'd been slowly gathering and tore open a hole in the wall. I darted through it and into the woods. I ran, and kept running, for a while, until I emerged on a side road that hadn't been paved for probably half a century.

  The van was waiting for me. Joseph and Chloe stood beside it, the former pointing the gun at me. “Bradley,” Chloe said. “Do your thing.”

  Bradley approached from behind and grabbed my head in his hands. I heard Joseph say, “She won't forget it all. There's no way.”

  “Don't underestimate me,” Bradley said, and everything faded. The next thing I knew, we were approaching the bridge.

  * * * * *

  Then I was back in the Coffee Shop. Anastasia was watching me intently. “I remember some of it,” I said, my voice thick. “It's kind of choppy.”

  “It takes time,” she said. “The boy is remarkably talented.”

  I looked at Evan. “Chris and I were going to do it. He went to London to get the sword. I was coming here to find the keystone. Stephen caught me. I ran. The others caught up with me and Bradley blocked my memory. Probably to stop me from trying to move forward.” I covered my face with my hands, ashamed at what I'd been doing.

  “But why would you do that?” Evan asked incredulously.

  I cleared my throat. “We're in love, and we wanted to break free of Stephen's control. Tasraan would give us the power to do that. That's the only reason I can think of.”

  Anastasia gave me a sad smile. “The heart can so easily muddle the mind. What matters now is, what are you prepared to do to fix it?”

  I replied, “I've got to find Chris, get the sword and the keystone, and destroy them.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” Anastasia said. “I should've destroyed the sword myself long ago. Pure vanity is all that stopped me–that I was good enough to protect it. Now, there's only one way to go about this. The sword was forged from the lava of the Magma Plains. We can't go there, we'd die. However, are you familiar with the firefall?”

  I nodded. “In the Wintrelinden.”

  “Right,” she said with a smile. “It's fueled by the Magma Plains. It will melt the sword and the stone. And there's a spot here in Chandler where you can access it. It's in the park, on the south side of the fountain.”

  I looked at Evan. “The fountain?”

  He nodded. “I know where it is.” I could tell by the look on his face how clueless he was about the rest of it.

  “Good. Now I need to find Chris. Get on your phone and give me a list of hotels within twenty miles of Chandler.”

  Anastasia said, “I will prepare the ritual to destroy them and meet you at the firefall.” She left.

  Evan handed me his phone. There were eight places to stay in that range. We'd have to check all of–

  The Sunset Motel jumped out at me. Sunset, Chris had said to me at the museum. That's where he would be. I told Evan so.

  “Let's go,” he said.

  EIGHTEEN

  The Sunset Motel was a two-floor motor lodge with an excellent view of an interstate on-ramp. It was used primarily by truckers passing through. Big letters on the side of the building, which would undoubtedly be lit at night, proclaimed its name, next to a sun made out of neon tubing. I had dreamed of that sun during my sleep in Pittsburgh. Everything was coming together.

  I flirted with the receptionist, a man of barely twenty who still had acne and probably didn't see a lot of young women, and I got him to tell me the room Chris was in. He'd used a fake name, of course, but the guy recognized my description.

  “Wait in the car,” I told Evan as I started to walk around the building. “I don't want to spook him.”

  I walked up the stairs to the second floor and knocked on his door. There was no answer. I placed my palm against the electronic lock and sent a little magic through it. It clicked and I opened the door. I could hear the shower running as I walked inside. A fresh set of clothes lay on the bed, right next to the keystone. As I approached it, I could feel the soft hum of it
s power.

  The shower turned off, and I tensed. A moment later, Chris emerged from the bathroom, one towel wrapped around his waist while he dried his hair with another. When he saw me, his eyes lit. He dropped the towel he was holding and pulled me into a hug, twirling me in a circle. His lips found mine, and I could feel his tight abs against my belly. I was all too aware that he was only wearing a towel.

  He pulled back. “What happened? I was freaking out when you stopped answering my texts. I wasn't sure you were even in town.”

  I bit my lip and hesitated.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Tell me.”

  I stepped away from him, looking out the window, avoiding eye contact. “It's a long story,” I said.

  He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I felt him kiss the top of my head. “It doesn't matter. You're here now.”

  He let me go, and I heard him shuffle through the clothes on the bed. “England was a lot easier this time. The updated intel we found on Stephen's laptop did the trick.”

  I turned and saw that he'd dropped the other towel and was starting to get dressed. I reflexively looked away again.

  “I disabled the angel and was in and out of the vault in less than twenty minutes. The only difference was the vault's combination,” he continued. I felt his hands on my shoulders, and when I turned, I saw he had put on a T-shirt and jeans. “It's so good to see you. I missed you so much. Let's just get all this over with.”

  “I missed you, too,” I said, and I meant it with every fiber of my being. “But Chris...”

  He brushed a few strands of hair out of my face. “Ally, what's wrong?”

  “This was a mistake,” I said. “We can't do this. We can't turn our backs on the only family we've had for years.”

  He frowned and took a step back, studying my face. “He got to you,” he said.

  I shook my head. “It's not like that. I just–I don't know what we were thinking.”

  “What we were thinking?” he repeated, frustration growing in his voice. “Gee, I thought we were thinking we could finally be together, be normal. Be out of Stephen's clutches.”

  I hated the sound of his anger, and I went to him and put my hand on his cheek. He put his palm against the back of my hand. “That's all I want. But not like this,” I said.

  I saw tears in his eyes and felt a lump burning the back of my throat. “I'm doing this, Ally,” he said. “With or without you. I'd much rather it was with.” He kissed me again, and this time it was slow, and sad.

  When I broke the kiss, I said, “I can't.” I reached for the keystone.

  “Don't,” he warned.

  I took a deep breath. “Or you'll stop me?”

  “I don't want to. Please don't make me.” There was so much pain in his voice.

  I reached for the stone again.

  His magic was so subtle that I didn't even feel it growing. The towel he'd been wearing whipped off the floor, wrapped itself around my wrist, and yanked me across the room. It secured itself on the legs of a desk that was attached to the wall.

  I struggled, unraveling his magic while also sending a burst of my own at him. He was sent over the bed and into the wall. I got myself free and ran for the stone, but the window suddenly shattered and the shards of glass flew at me. I dropped to one knee and threw up a hasty barrier that deflected most of the glass, but some still brushed against my arms and face, stinging, drawing small beads of blood.

  The floor beneath my knee seemed to melt, and I sank into it a couple of inches before it resolidified, trapping me. Chris stood back up, looking at me mournfully.

  I lashed out at the bed and upended it. It crashed into Chris and sent the keystone flying. Underneath where the bed had been, I saw the box with the sword. Rather than attempt to undo the magic Chris had done on the floor, I smashed through it with raw magic and pulled myself free. Through the hole in the floor, I could see the room below. Thankfully, it was unoccupied. I grabbed the box and heaved it toward the door.

  Chris threw the bed off of himself as I moved to get the stone. It was nearer to him, though, and he got to it first. “Give me the sword,” he said.

  “Give me the stone,” I countered.

  Both of us were pulling magic, waiting for the other to act. I moved first, forming a ball of fire in my hand and hurling it at him. He dodged, and the curtains over the now-shattered window ignited. I fed the fire and pulled it into a circle around him.

  Chris's eyes widened in surprise and pain. “I suck at fire,” he said, and I knew it. That I would use it against him was a horrible act of betrayal.

  “Give me the stone,” I said again, my voice breaking along with my heart.

  He shook his head, set his jaw, and answered my fire with a whirlwind of his own magic. Items in the room started flying through the air: a painting on the wall, the phone, the alarm clock, an iron. I deflected them and kept the fire in check. This had to end.

  I fought back tears and made the hardest decision I'd ever made. Behind Chris, I tore open a hole into the Periphery, then I sent two simultaneous bursts of magic at him, one yanking the stone out of his hands, the other pushing him backwards, into the gateway. I could see creatures there, several yards away, watching.

  “I'm so sorry,” I said. “I love you so much. But I can't be responsible for letting a demon like Tasraan back out into the world.”

  His eyes widened as he realized what I was doing, and I sealed the gateway, stranding him there.

  The maelstrom he'd created died, everything falling to the floor. At some point, a fire alarm had started wailing, and I finally heard it. I let the fire keep burning as I pocketed the keystone, grabbed the box, and ran out the door.

  Evan was waiting at the car, his eyes alarmed from watching all the smoke.

  I threw the box in the backseat and jumped in front. “Get us out of here!”

  He started the car and peeled out of the parking lot. “What happened?” he asked as he pulled onto the interstate.

  “We fought,” I said hoarsely. My throat hurt. I was struggling to maintain composure. A tear burned my cheek and I wiped it away angrily. “Then I sent him to the Periphery. Without protection.”

  Evan shuddered. “Will he get out?”

  I took a shaky breath. “He doesn't know how.”

  He didn't say anything, but I'm sure he was thinking about all the beasts we'd seen on the other side of the wormhole we'd taken to escape the vampires. Chris was a hell of a witch, but in the Periphery, alone, with no way out–I'd effectively killed him.

  At that thought, I did break down, and I allowed myself a moment to cry.

  Ugly, heaving sobs escaped me as the pain of losing everyone I'd ever cared about washed over me. It felt like I cried forever, but it was only a couple of minutes. Evan said nothing, just allowed me to get it out of my system. Then he handed me a handkerchief. I took it and wiped my face. Then I actually chuckled. “Who under the age of sixty carries a handkerchief these days?” I asked.

  He snickered along with me. “I'm an old soul?”

  That set us both to outright laughing. When it subsided, I said, “Does Evie have outdoor winter gear?”

  “Like for skiing?” he asked. “Yeah, we go almost every year.”

  I said, “Good. I need it.” I told him why.

  * * * * *

  Evan's folks were at the museum, dealing with the damage done yesterday, and Eva had gone with them, so his house was empty. I waited with the car while he went inside, and a few minutes later he came out carrying two large trash bags full of stuff. “One for you, one for me,” he said.

  I frowned. “You're not coming.”

  “You said there are no monsters in this Wintrelinden place, so I'm going. You shouldn't do it alone. I don't trust this Anastasia. Her timing was just so convenient.”

  He was right, and after all he'd been through the past few days, he could make his own decisions.

  Which meant he was coming with me.

&
nbsp; NINETEEN

  We had to look like complete idiots, walking through the park on a hot summer day in ski suits, but there weren't many people around. The sky had darkened and I could feel a storm moving in. Evan led me to the fountain. It was big, probably thirty feet in diameter with a pretty spout in the middle. Coins littered its floor, each one probably representing a wish someone had made. I had a few wishes of my own I wanted to add.

  We went to the south side, and I opened my second gateway to the Periphery in as many hours. We stepped through it and entered into an arctic tundra. Hard snow crunched beneath our feet. The sun hung low in the sky here, and the sky itself looked slightly wrong, discolored in some way that I couldn't quite describe.

  Not toofar in the distance, I could see a tall rock wall with a line of brilliant orange-ish red flowing down it. We walked in that direction, and as we got closer, we could see that it was the firefall, hot lava pouring from a crack near the top of the wall down into a crevasse in the ground, where it disappeared. It was at least fifty feet wide. The heat emanating from it would have been unbearable if not for the cold air.

  Anastasia stood near it, watching us approach. “Good show, indeed,” she said with a smile when she saw Evan carrying the box and I held up the stone.

  “What does the ritual consist of?” I asked, eager to be rid of the burden.

  “Oh,” Anastasia said. “There is no ritual. I made that up.”

  “Quite right,” said a man's voice, and my heart missed a beat. A veil dropped, and standing next to Anastasia were Stephen, Chloe, the twins, and Bradley. Stephen was smiling. “All that needs to be done is to throw them into the firefall.”

  I was remarkably confused.

  Stephen came over and hugged me. “I'm so proud of you, Alyssa. I knew you'd do the right thing.” He took the keystone from my hand, then made a gesture over his shoulder. Joseph moved forward and pulled the box away from Evan. He walked back to the others, set it on the ground, and opened it. I got my first real look at the dark, split-blade sword. Joseph lifted it.

  “When I learned of your plan to betray me,” Stephen continued, “I was desperately hurt. I took you in, cared for you like my own daughter.”