Winter Souls: an Adult Paranormal Witch Romance: Sector 10 (The Othala Witch Collection)

by Angela Fristoe

  His hand flew up and the knife embedded itself in the demon’s chest. She screamed and fell to the ground withering as smoke engulfed her. He strode past her and up the stairs, guided by Niobe’s determination. The path to the door was short, and when he reached the solid rock, he pounded on it with his fist.

  He didn’t know whether Elora saw him or heard his pounding, but the door opened. He stepped through and behind him the door swung shut.

  Elora’s small trembling form knelt before the archway, her dark head lowered as she stared at the skull.

  “Elora?”

  She glanced up, and he stared in shock. Her face and clothing were coated with a deep, dark red as if she’d showered in a fine mist of ravager blood.

  19

  “You made it.” With a sob, Elora flung herself at Mason.

  He wrapped her in his arms, patting her back. Relief kept her from being disappointed by his remoteness. That he was back was enough. As she’d knelt there waiting for him, she feared he’d forgotten, then came the fear he’d returned, but she hadn’t heard him. It had been that thought that led her to finally open the gate.

  “Did you find Niobe?”

  “I did.” He stroked her hair. “How long was I gone?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Time had meant little as the ravagers converged on her. The first few waves had been fast, but the final one had been more organized. The smaller monsters came over the edge first, finding the paths along the wall, then the larger ones descended. The aura spear worked better on bigger ravagers—its scattered trajectory killing more of them in a single shot. The little ones, though, were harder to target, and she was forced to rely on her magic and the bolt.

  “It’s been a while since any more ravagers have shown,” she said.

  She looked up at him, but he was distracted, looking around at what she’d faced. She knew what he’d see. Ravagers, whole and in pieces scattered around the rock and in the shallow stream, the water running red. On the stone around her were sigils and protection spells drawn with their blood. Blood that also covered her.

  Disgust churned her stomach, and she pulled away from him. She hurried over to the point where the stream entered the opening, stepping over bodies as she went. She knelt in the icy water. Cupping her hands, she splashed her face and neck, rubbing them vigorously before moving to her arms. When she was done, she glanced back at Mason, who hadn’t moved.

  “What happened?” Her teeth chattered as she rose from the water. “Did she tell you where the Soul Rune is?”

  He didn’t say anything, just lowered his gaze to the knife in his shaking hand.

  “What’s wrong?” She moved toward him but stopped when he held up his empty hand.

  “Don’t come any closer,” he ordered harshly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head and dropped to his hands and knees. He coughed and heaved until he was gasping for air. His back arched up, and a thick black smoke poured from his mouth before it disappeared into the cracks between the rock. When the smoke was gone, he slowly stood, swaying. Elora rushed to his side, slipping under his arm to help him over to the canyon wall.

  “What was that? Mason, what’s going on?”

  “I found her,” he said when he caught his breath. “But she wouldn’t tell me where the rune was.”

  “I thought she had to, that in the Underworld, she couldn’t hide it.”

  “She couldn’t lie, but she didn’t have to tell me. She could have skirted around the truth forever, giving me just enough that it wasn’t a lie,” Mason explained and ran a hand over his mouth. “She offered me a deal.”

  “What did you do?” she whispered, already dreading his answer.

  “I brought her back.”

  Fear rolled through Elora, and her heart sank at the thought of Niobe roaming free. Even if she never saw the Ice Witch again, knowing she was out there terrified Elora. Dark witches never changed, and it was only a matter of time before Niobe found new victims. And after months in the Underworld, she’d only be worse.

  “That was her? The smoke?”

  He nodded.

  When she was a child, Tina told her tales of the souls of witches returning after death. As the soul was replanted in the earth, it returned to where their body lay, and they would rise again. But they needed the blood of another witch for their bodies to completely resurrect.

  “And now she’s gone. Did she tell you where it is?”

  “It’s on the island, stuck to the bottom of the rosemary pot.”

  Elora remembered seeing that pot, had even used it a number of times. How long had the rune been there before Niobe died? Weeks? Years? His soul had been so close, and she’d never suspected.

  “We have to go to the island anyways,” she said. “We need to get there before Niobe has a chance to reclaim her body.”

  She picked up the skull and tucked it into her pocket then started gathering the weapons that were strewn around the archway. In the distance, ravager shrieks echoed through the canyon.

  “Let’s go before any more ravagers arrive,” he suggested.

  She nodded and cleared off the return transport circle. She’d already found the sigil etched into the archway a few feet away.

  “How do we get back if no one is here to send us?” Mason asked as he made his way back over from the wall.

  “We pierce the sigil with something covered with our blood, then enter the circle together.”

  She picked up his knife and made a cut on each of their hands. With their blood mingled on the blade, she pressed the tip into a small crack within the sigil. The circle lit up with a rush of white light and with joined hands, they stepped into the interdimension.

  The path to their exit was brightly lit, and they quickly made their way through. This time, Elora didn’t stop for the lost souls, though her heart ached as the little girl’s cries floated around them.

  When they reached their exit, they passed through and landed behind the cabin that haunted Elora. It was in her worst nightmares that she’d been there, still trapped alone with Niobe. In those dreams, she relived the years she spent there, the pain and horror of the slave she’d been to Niobe’s will.

  Everything was still. No waves crashing along the beach; no wind whistling as it whipped around the cabin or outhouse. The tiny piece of land was devoid of the ravagers that should have overtaken it when Niobe’s barrier failed. That there was no evidence of them made Elora suspect they were too late.

  She placed her finger over her lips, telling him to keep quiet, then tiptoed her way to the side of the cabin. As she neared the front corner, she paused and peeked around it. Seeing nothing, she pulled her bolt from her shoulder and motioned for Mason to follow her to the entrance. He nodded and slipped his ax from the loop on his belt.

  The old wooden door creaked loudly as she opened it. Inside, Niobe sat on the edge of the bed, looking weak and fragile. She didn’t even look strong enough to move. Still, Elora pointed the bolt at her.

  She had learned to never underestimate the Ice Witch. Niobe’s magic was strong enough that she’d once been considered for a position on the Council. Creating an illusion would take little to no effort.

  Mason, however, had no idea of what she was truly capable of. Dismissing the old woman, he moved to the shelves along the wall. One by one, he lifted jars and pots, checking the bottoms and dumping their contents on the ground. They shattered, scattering pieces of clay across the wooden floor.

  The door slammed shut, and the lock clicked into place. Elora grabbed the sliding lock, trying to open it, but the iron began glowing, and she let go with a yelp. Her fingers stung from the vicious burn.

  “Looking for this?”

  Elora spun around to see Niobe holding out her hand. In her wrinkled palm was a small gray pebble. Across the room, Elora strained to see anything that distinguished it from any other stone on the beach.

  Mason raised his ax and charged the old woman, but fl
ew back as he hit an invisible warding circle. He landed on his back, and there was a loud crack as his head hit the floor. Elora took a step toward him, the bolt dropping slightly. She stopped and quickly aimed the bolt again.

  “Mason? Are you okay?”

  He sat up, and tentatively lifted a hand to the back of his head then rubbed it across the top of his thigh, leaving a trail of blood down the denim.

  “I’m fine.” He stood, using the table for support. “Give me the rune.”

  “Did you really expect me to simply walk in here and take what’s mine?” Niobe asked. An unsteady laugh burst from her, threatening to topple her, and Elora wondered if maybe the weakness wasn’t an act.

  “Mason did as you asked,” Elora said. “He brought you out of the Underworld. Give it to him.”

  “That wasn’t the deal. I held up my end and told him the location of the rune. I never promised to give it to him.”

  Elora pressed her lips together. She’d known Niobe couldn’t be trusted, known that this would happen if they didn’t get here before her.

  “Your body won’t last long,” she pointed out. “A few days at the most, and then the Reaper will be back for you.”

  Niobe inclined her head. “And when I die, ravagers will flood the island, and the rune will be trapped within the eternity ward.”

  Elora had never before seen an eternity ward. It was a powerful spell that created a dome around an object or person, encasing it forever, unless broken by the caster.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “Just a little of your blood.”

  “It’s not worth it. Let her die in there,” Mason said. “We’ll wait her out. She’ll be dead soon enough, then we can go back to the mainland.”

  “And the ravagers?”

  He shrugged. “We’ve faced them before.”

  “With weapons, with a Regent’s teleportation sigil,” she reminded him.

  “We have time to formulate a plan.”

  She thought of how close he was to being whole again. Only a thin barrier separated them from his soul. Could she really let Niobe die and trap his soul in? He obviously could. That’s all it took to make up her mind.

  Her hands fell to her side, lowering the bolt, and she joined Mason at the table. She checked the back of his head, touching the tender wound.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said and brushed her hand away.

  She nodded and looked away from him to the mess he’d made of the spices. He’d smashed almost every pot. Almost. Still on the shelf were three small beige pots. None of them were labeled, but after six years fetching ingredients for Niobe, Elora knew what they contained. Sage, salt, and Rosemary.

  Elora ran around the table and grabbed the jar. Turning it over, she let the delicate flakes drift through her fingers until a brilliant blue stone fell into her palm. Within its murky depths, a light pulsed like a heartbeat. Mason’s soul.

  “It’s the Soul Rune,” Elora said with a breathy laugh. The rush of feelings she experienced were beyond words. Despite the risks she’d taken, there’d been a part of her that had been convinced that this moment would never happen.

  Mason cautiously moved over to her, and she passed the small stone to him, watching as he gazed into his soul. He shoved it in his pocket and grabbed her hand.

  “Let’s go,” he said and dragged her to the door.

  He swung his axe, and the door splintered. He hit it again, this time breaking the lock. The door opened inward, and suddenly Niobe’s lack of response to them finding the rune made perfect sense.

  A pale green shield that seemed to shiver under the pressure of the hundreds of ravagers pressed against it was all that separated them from death. Unlike the Regent’s shield, this one did nothing to deter the ravagers. It was a simple gate, temporarily holding the monsters at bay, and with each surge of the waves, more ravagers arrived, and the barrier closed in on the cabin.

  There was no way they could make it anywhere, and it was obvious Niobe had no intention of letting them leave. Not without getting what she wanted. Elora’s blood and Mason’s soul.

  Elora turned back to see Niobe standing beside the bed, the eternity ward gone, and a smirked smeared across her old face. Mason took a lunging step toward her, his ax preparing to swing. Elora grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop.

  “We have the rune, we don’t need her,” he said, pulling it from his pocket.

  “Kill me, and the barrier will fall,” Niobe stated. “The ravagers will tear this place apart in seconds. You’ll be dead before you can even think of how it’s going to feel to be eaten alive.”

  Elora squeezed Mason’s hand, closing his fingers over the stone. “Will you promise me something?”

  “What?”

  “Once you get off this island, never come back,” she said, rubbing her fingers across the door, creating a familiar pattern.

  He glanced around the decrepit shack and snorted. “That’s easy enough to promise.”

  “Good. Think of home. That’s where I’ll be.”

  Elora slammed her palm into the center of the sigil she’d drawn with the blood from his head wound. With a flash of swirling light, Mason vanished. The marking she’d made was identical to the Regent’s but without that level of magic, she couldn’t be sure it would do anything other than send Mason through the interdimension to a random location in the sector.

  Niobe shrieked and rushed toward her, but Elora stood her ground, determined to keep the connection and give Mason enough time to reach the other side. She raised the bolt up, but Niobe was too close. Instead, she used it as a bat, and swung it at the old witch, trying to defend her off.

  The witch rushed her again, feebly pushing aside the bolt and grabbing Elora. Having the woman’s weight fall upon her, Elora stumbled, breaking contact with the sigil just as the portal closed.

  Wherever he’d gone, he was there safely. The thought energized Elora, and she shoved Niobe off her. She ran to the shelf and grabbed the last two pots. Sage and salt. She threw both jars at the older woman then swept her hands in circles in front of her.

  “Mother of All, turn your eye and lift your shadow from the land, set it upon the Amautalik. See the darkness found within and cast her from the light.”

  The words were a mix of English and Latin, but Mother of All heard her call. A long shadow crept across the floor toward Niobe. When she noticed it, she scurried away, but her weakened body couldn’t move quick enough. As she was enveloped in the darkness, her screams rang through the cabin until they faded to a whimper.

  Outside, the cries of ravagers grew as they sensed the weakening of the shield.

  Elora grabbed a shard of pottery from the floor and sliced her hand open. Blood poured from the cut, and she drew another teleportation sigil. She coated the shard with her blood and shoved it into a crack in the floorboards that ran through the sigil.

  Light exploded around her, and she found herself surrounded by the sparkling blue mist. She glanced around but saw no path lighting the way. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of home. When her eyes opened, the path was there, and she ran, wanting nothing more than to leave the island and Niobe forever in her past.

  20

  Mason exited the interdimension, and the blue particles drifted around him. He blinked as the harsh glare of the sun bounced off the water’s surface. Even with the warmth of the shield, the last of winter’s ice pushed against the rocky beach. From his spot on the mainland, he couldn’t get past the barrier in the fading light, but he heard the ravagers in the distance, their feral screams rising above the sound of the waves. There was a flash of green light as Niobe’s barrier fell.

  There was no way Elora could survive. The island was lost and so was she. His brow furrowed as a weight settled on his chest, and he rubbed at the spot. For a moment, he wondered if he was experiencing some emotion tied to the loss of her, but he shook his head. More likely his body was exhausted from the day’s events.

  The Soul Rune
throbbed in his hand, and he dropped it in his pocket, unwilling to waste any more time on the matter.

  He glanced at his old post then in the opposite direction at Nick’s. Both were unmanned. He spun and quickly dropped into a squat position, surveying the village. His vantage point was limited, but nothing looked out of place. Smoke from chimneys drifted through the air, and he spotted Norm and Abby setting up for their evening crowd.

  So, where were the guards?

  He strode along the beach path and up to the Station House. The door flung open under his hand, and the two people in the room turned to stare at him.

  Nick reacted immediately, grabbing his bolt from whether it rested against the table and lined up his shot. Luce reached over to press her hand down on the barrel.

  “Stand down,” she ordered, and Nick complied.

  “But ...”

  “Head out to your post. We can finish the briefing later,” she told Nick. He sighed and left, giving Mason a curt nod as he passed.

  “Since when did you start giving briefings?”

  Luce might have been the senior Tank, but briefings were the Dealer’s job. She stared at him a long moment, before motioning him to follow her into the Dealer’s office. He’d expected Gregory to be behind the desk. What he hadn’t expected was for Luce to circle the large wood table and take the seat meant for the Dealer.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “You’ve been gone a long time,” she said, leaning back in the chair.

  “Three months isn’t that long,” he replied, though he agreed with her. Three months seemed like years ago. “Where’s the Dealer?”

  “Did you complete your mission?” Luce asked, avoiding his question.

  He pulled out the Soul Rune, placing it on the desk between them. The blue stone shone with an eerie light that was his soul. There was a pull within him, calling for him to snatch it up and conceal it again, an irrational reaction, so instead, he sat across from her and gripped the arms of the chair.