Rogue Witch (Daughter of Darkness Book 2)

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Rogue Witch (Daughter of Darkness Book 2) Page 8

by Val O. Morris


  When the door was completely open, the mountain stopped shaking.

  I might as well have turned to stone because I didn’t move. Even my breathing shallowed.

  Then, we heard the voice again. “Well, are you gonna stand there all day or come inside?”

  Great. A mountain wizard with an attitude.

  “I don’t supposed you’re coming with?” I asked as I kissed Spratlin.

  He shook his head. “I'll sit this one out.” He smiled and said, “Go on. You’ll be fine.”

  Figures. Why am I the only one dumb enough to do it?

  “Chicken shit.” I winked at Spratlin and then stepped through the dark doorway.

  The tunnel was pitch black and cold. When I spoke out, my voice echoed. “Where are you?”

  “Over here,” the voice said. “Follow the light.”

  There was a dim orange light up ahead. I moved toward it. Considering we were on the peak of the mountain, I wondered if I was really moving at all. The light grew brighter, and soon I was standing at an opening to a small alcove.

  Orange light from a fire illuminated the walls. Old parchment paper and scribblings I didn’t recognize adorned the walls. An old man with a long white beard sat huddled in a corner.

  He said, “Come in, Mackenzie. Sit.” He motioned for the spot across from him.

  As I sat down, I looked at him. He wore a battered dark purple robe. The sequins that light once danced upon were worn and faded. His eyes were glazed over white. He appeared to be mostly blind.

  A wise, blind, old wizard at the peak of the mountain. Could this be any more cliché?

  “Uh… Hi.”

  “Quite a climb, huh?”

  “Yes. Have you ever thought about installing an elevator?”

  “Too many solicitors. Besides, that steep climb helps weed out the weak.”

  “You don't like the weak?”

  “The weak don't like to learn,” he stated in this matter-of-fact tone.

  It was all too surreal. “Who are you?”

  “They call me William the Wise. I'm three hundred years old. And I'd kill for a pizza right about now.”

  I dug in my backpack and pulled out a small package. “Here's a peanut butter and chocolate chip protein bar.”

  The old man tore into it like he hadn't eaten in years. Looking around the room, I noticed a peculiar lack of sustenance. I guess three hundred year old mages didn't need the same things to survive that normal people did.

  Before he decided to turn his taste buds on me, I asked, “Do you know a man named Kellen? He was on his way to see you.”

  The old man tossed the wrapper aside and lifted his face toward the low hanging ceiling. “Kellen? Nope, doesn't sound familiar.”

  “Has anyone been to visit you lately?”

  “Mackenzie, I haven't had a visitor in many many years. Why do you think this Kellen was coming to visit me?”

  I told the old man about finding Kellen in the woods running from some demons and how the relic was stolen from him.

  Then I filled him in on Athan Malek and why I was on the mountain looking for Kellen.

  “A relic, you say?”

  Then the old man turned to the bookshelf beside him. He mumbled a few words to himself and stuck his nose right up to the books, presumably to better see the spines. I leaned in closer but couldn't make out what he was saying. He pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through it.

  “Is this the relic?”

  It was!

  “How'd you know that?”

  “I wouldn't be much of a wise wizard if I didn't keep up to date with the goings on in Blackwood.”

  He had a point, although I wondered how he stayed so connected being so far away.

  “So, what's so special about this relic? And why did Kellen have it?” It was kinda ugly. I sure wouldn't wear it around my neck.

  “Kellen had it because he was likely bringing it to me to give to you.”

  My eyes shot up from the book. “Me?”

  Why would Kellen bring it to the mountain just to hand it off to me? He could have just met me in town and saved us both a lot of headache. Did Malek put him up to it? Or was he doing it behind Malek’s back?

  “It's a symbol of a very powerful Healer. It's special because it's rumored to bring immortality.”

  Now that was some heavy shit. No wonder our mystery man wanted it.

  “Kellen must have known it was special for him to go to the trouble of climbing a damn mountain to get it to you.”

  “To get it to you,” he corrected.

  “Why me? Would wearing it really make me immortal?”

  That was something I had been pondering for a while. Having the gift of Sacrifice, as Mrs. G called it, made me uncomfortable at times. I didn’t think I was worthy of such an ability. Immortal or not, I also didn’t like the idea of gaining more enemies once word spread.

  “Ms. Mackenzie, no one is truly immortal.”

  “But what about you? You said you’re three hundred years old.”

  “Yes, but who’s to say I won’t meet the True Death some day?”

  “True Death?” I swallowed hard.

  “You’re a Healer, right?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “How many scars do you have?”

  I wondered how he knew I had any at all. Did all Healers have life scars? I pulled up my jacket sleeve and touched my left wrist to his extended hand. “Seven.”

  The wizard held my wrist while he rubbed his fingers over the scars. “You’ve made it longer than most.”

  That lump that was in my throat? It just got bigger. I caught a quick glance of the scars, as my jacket sleeve slid down my arm, once again covering the memories of those I had saved. I thought back to Emma, Thomas, the little boy from the cave, and now even Tony, and not to mention Gaylin and Spratlin. They will each forever hold a place in my heart. My koi tattoo peeked from under the cuff of my jacket on my right wrist. It was the positive counterbalance to how those scars got there and the reminder that I was strong enough to handle the responsibility.

  “Is there any way to know how many?”

  “No.”

  That’s a pisser. My relationship with Spratlin was growing, and as harsh as it sounded, I wasn’t ready to abandon him for someone else’s life just yet.

  “Faith,” the old man continued. “You’ve gotta have it. Faith that everyone you save is worth saving. You have to honestly believe that.”

  “If I don’t?”

  “Well, I don’t have to tell you about the lure of Dark Magic.”

  No, he didn’t. Apparently, it runs in my family. My mother was now a Dark Archmage, and my half-sister was well on her way. Spratlin’s scared I’m headed in that direction. When the murders happened a few months ago, I looked into the lives of those who I had saved. Spratlin warned me that it was dangerous. That it could lure me to Dark Magic.

  I’m not sure I bought all of that. I figure, if a person wants to go Dark, it’s their decision. Just as it’s their decision to shove aside those tendencies.

  “Tell me more about True Death,” I said to the old man.

  Then, he stuffed his pipe and lit it. Hopefully I wasn't about to experience True Death trapped inside a mountain full of second hand smoke.

  After three puffs, he said, “We all have to die some day.”

  “Is True Death what happens to people like me?”

  “What troubles you?”

  “Wh-What do you mean?”

  “Ever since you arrived, all we've spoken of is death. Do you fear death?”

  I had never thought of it before. I lost my father at such a young age and then was abandoned by my own mother when she blamed me. I never had a family growing up, and now that I do, with Spratlin and my friends, I was afraid to lose it.

  The wizard continued, “You have a lot of fear in your heart.”

  I didn't answer immediately, not because he was right, but because I didn't know he was until that mo
ment. Spratlin was right—I was enjoying my power, and I feared where that would lead me. But I also feared what would happen if I didn't use it. It was barely a whisper when I spoke. “Yes.”

  “Fear is not a good ally to have. It will betray you.”

  It also fueled me. “I fear not knowing what the hell is going on.” I decided to spare him the same old I’m new to this magic thing/I didn't grow up around magic story. “Someone stole that relic from Kellen. I've got to find out who else is after it.”

  The old man leaned back against the cold, hard, stone and puffed his pipe. “This is not good.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” I stood up. “I’ve gotta talk to Malek. See what else I can find out.”

  “A word to the wise,” he said as he puffed a few more times. “Be wary what you seek.”

  Now wasn’t the time for more games. I needed answers and, before I left, there was one more question. I’d kick myself tomorrow if I didn’t ask. I sat down again, hoping the old man would notice and relax.

  “Who is the Blue Devil?”

  The wizard looked surprised I asked.

  “I am to assume you know what one is?”

  “Yeah, it’s a someone who’s a Healer and an Archmage, and I get the same shocked reaction every time I bring it up.”

  He looked to be in deep thought while he took a long puff from his pipe. “Oh. Seems it's gone out.”

  “Here,” I said reaching out my hand. Fire flared out from my fingertip as the old man stared at me.

  “I thought you said you're a Lightning Mage.”

  The realization was setting in as I replied, “I am.”

  The old man puffed his pipe and continued to study me. Like he was contemplating how much to tell me.

  “Just give me the truth, man. After all the shit I’ve been through, I can handle it. Is it Athan Malek, or not?”

  “I think you know who it is. Look deep inside yourself. The truth is there.”

  Great. He's also a wizard who likes to speak in puzzles.

  I slapped the table in front of me and stood up. “I don’t have time for this bullshit. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

  “Wait!”

  I sighed and turned around.

  “If I, or anyone else, told you everything you needed to know, it wouldn’t make as big of an impact as if you discovered the truth yourself.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Now you sound like the imp.”

  “Imp? The one who lives on the mountain?”

  “Yeah.” So, he was real.

  The wizard turned a paler shade of white. “You're feeling the pull of dark magic.”

  “Because I talked to an imp?”

  “There is unrest in your life, and you're turning to anyone who pretends to help or have the answers. Be very careful of whom you trust.”

  He was right. I was at odds with both Gaylin and Spratlin. But I couldn't resist making the obvious joke. “Does that mean you're full of shit, too?”

  The wizard’s momentary silence and cold stare told me I got him, and that he didn't much care for my accusations.

  “There is someone who can help you better understand this Athan Malek. Go to her. It’s time the two of you speak face to face.”

  Her? I got the feeling he wasn’t referring to Alexa, and I didn’t like the idea one bit. Before I left, he dropped one more bombshell.

  “And you’re partially right about what a Blue Devil is. Yes, one is a Healer but not just any Archmage. A Blue Devil is a Healer and a Dark Archmage.”

  13

  Spratlin and I entered my kitchen, and he set down my backpack by the door.

  “I’m so glad to be off that mountain,” I said as I plopped down on the couch. Thunder immediately greeted me with a cold, wet nose to my cheek. “Aww, did you miss me?”

  Thunder replied, to which only I could hear, “I am a dog after all.”

  I scratched his head and smiled up at Spratlin. “Wanna stay for a while?”

  We had descended the mountain as quickly as we could, that time avoiding the shortcut. One trip through the Dead Woods was enough. While making our way down, I filled Spratlin in on what all the old wizard had told me about the relic and True Death.

  Spratlin could tell I was genuinely worried about that last one.

  I decided to keep the part about the Blue Devil to myself. Until I find out who the Blue Devil is, I figured there was no use getting everyone all worked up.

  “Nah, I should go check on things at home. I think you should go see your mother,” Spratlin said.

  I was not expecting that. “You do?” Did he really feel that way, or was that the fear of losing his father talking?

  “She may have the answers you’re needing.”

  We kissed goodbye and he left. I leaned against the front door as it closed shut behind him. The thought of seeing my mother made my head hurt, but what if the wise old man was right? That she had the answers?

  However, before going to see Ma Jasmine, there was someone else who I needed to pay a visit. I could come up with an excuse about why I needed back in Mrs. G’s cellar library. Lucky me, I didn’t have to.

  “Hello?” I asked answering my phone. “Of course, Mrs. G. Oh, it’s no problem at all. I’ll be right over.”

  Mrs. G needed help with her microwave and I needed in her library.

  Before I could even knock, the door flung open and she swallowed me up into a big bear hug that I didn’t think I’d get out of alive.

  “I’m so glad you made it off that mountain safely.”

  No secrets in this small town.

  “It was fine, but it is nice to be home.” I downplayed it because I didn’t want her to worry.

  “I’m surprised Spratlin isn’t with you,” Mrs. G said.

  “Oh, he was. He had some family stuff to deal with.”

  “I know about Councilman Jonathan,” Mrs. G said softly.

  “It really sucks.”

  “You’re wondering if you can save him.”

  I stared at her not sure what to say. Of course that thought had crossed my mind. Why wouldn’t it? I had no idea if my Healer ability even worked like that, or more importantly, if Spratlin would approve.

  Mrs. G didn’t need an answer to know what I was thinking. She continued, “Just promise me you’ll be careful, and that you’ll really consider the consequences of your actions.”

  She was concerned not only for me, but what it would do to my relationship with Spratlin if I interfered. “I promise. Now, how bout I take a look at your microwave?”

  At first, I didn’t think that was something I could fix, but once I figured out that her outlet was faulty, I used my lightning magic to give the microwave a jump start until the repair man could get there. She was thrilled to be able to use it—at least while I was there to jump start it—so I took advantage and sweetly asked for a favor.

  Mrs. G’s library was the best and safest place for me to research the kinds of things I needed to know without prying eyes. Even though she wasn’t constantly watching me, I assumed Mrs. G had a vague idea of what I was researching, and she was gracious enough to not ask questions.

  “I’ve got something even better.” Mrs. G disappeared down the hall. When she returned, she set a thick, leather bound book in front of me. “Page one-twenty-three may be of interest.”

  My eyes never left hers as I took the book, curious what she was up to. When I did finally look down, I quickly flipped through the book as Mrs. G once again left the room. The research I had been doing over the past few months had been good for me. Combined with Spratlin’s help, I was slowly learning the history of magic and all its many forms. But…. There was one thing I’ve been too hesitant to bring up. Not because I was scared, but because of the connotations and assumptions that would come with it.

  When Spratlin and I first discovered the underground cave system that the Dark Mages had been using, I wondered if there was another, less secretive place for those of dark magic to congregate. Turns
out, there was. And it was on page one-twenty-three. How did-? I shook my head. Mrs. G’s intuition was on point as always.

  According to the book, there was an old manor, on the other side of town, that the Dark Mages had adopted as their meeting ground. Apparently, it was named after the original Dark Mage…. However, the name was scratched out.

  Did Mrs. G do that?

  The passage continued on to say, that the legend was, he didn’t simply sell his soul to the devil in order to gain power. Instead, most people believed him to be the devil himself.

  Malek?

  No, couldn’t be.

  His pale skin and icy-hot eyes. They could freeze you in place and ignite a fire so hot, you would combust from the inside.

  He was just a creepy mage with an obsession with jewelry. He was no devil.

  Was he?

  I jumped up from the chair and started down the hall. Mrs. G met me halfway down it with another book in her hand. This was getting too weird. It was like she was reading my mind—or predicting my moves before I even knew them myself.

  “You’re going to see your mother,” she said.

  “I am.” There was no reason to hide it. Hell, I was beginning to think she could read my thoughts.

  “Before you do,” she handed me the next book. “You may find this one useful to revisit.”

  Revisit? It was the book of legends that I started reading the first time she let me into her cellar. I was interrupted before I could finish it.

  I grinned, wondering what she was up to. “Thanks.” I returned to her kitchen table and started reading.

  Hell Holes will open up and spew forth the Underworld’s minions. Once complete, the Evil Master will reign down Dominion on all the land, scorching all in its path until Renewal.

  Dominion?

  Renewal?

  Shit. The Council’s gonna feel real stupid when this actually happens.

  I continued reading, The Amulet of Immortality…

  “That’s the relic!” Realizing I said that out loud, I quickly glanced around to see if Mrs. G was nearby. She wasn’t, and I wondered if she had heard me.

  The Amulet of Immortality must be worn by the Evil Master’s chosen one, for he or she will not perish.

  Kellen said that he was supposed to give me the relic.

 

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