A Witch's Rite (Witch's Path Series: Book 5)

by N. E. Conneely

  Thrashing around as if I were struggling against drowning, I managed to wiggle my right arm around until my hand was resting near my left shoulder. Closing my eyes and willing my sword into a very exact position, I twisted my hand. The hilt settled into my grip. While that told me the sword had appeared, I was unsure if it was thrusting into the nixe as I’d intended. If I had missed, this fight was not going to improve.

  For a moment nothing happened. Then her grip on me loosened before releasing entirely. Something was trying to drag the sword back, out of my grip. I dismissed it and quickly emerged from the water, taking deep, ragged breaths of air. Resummoning the sword, I pivoted to look at her, ready to attack if she became aggressive.

  The nixe was lying on the ground, blood gurgling out of the wound in her chest, broken arm limp at her side, her eyes wide and filled with pain as she took a shallow breath. From the way she was struggling to breathe and the position of the wound, my sword had punctured a lung. Modern medicine could likely save her life, but we were far from a hospital, and I had little interest in helping a murderer.

  “Answer me, nixe. Did you kill Wells?”

  “It was just a job. Ned hired me.” She took a ragged breath. “That officer was somewhere he shouldn’t have been. Just like you, but I can help you.” She struggled through another breath. “I can help you get out of here.”

  A cold fury settled into my body. I smiled, and I hoped it was as friendly as the smiles she had given me earlier. “It’s fortunate that you encountered me rather than one of the others.”

  She looked like she wanted to ask why but was too scared to speak.

  “You see, the others would have put you in handcuffs, dragged you all over this mountain, and then taken you back to the police station where you would be turned over to your people for justice.”

  Her eyes went wide. “No, please—”

  “Shhhh. I know. Nixe who kill people are put to death. I believe they stake you out in the sun, let you dry, and then slice open your wrists and ankles until the blood slowly drains from your body?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, I won’t do that to you. You killed Wells. You tried to kill me. You work for Ned.” I stepped to the side and raised my sword, then sent it whooshing through the air. It was a good blade, and it only took one blow to separate her head from her body.

  I used the skirt of her dress to clean my sword.

  Shouldering my pack, I resumed my search for Michelle, never looking back at the nixe. As much as Michelle loved me, as much of my dark side as she knew, she still failed to understand one point. I was an old elf, brought up in a world far different from the one that existed today. I believed in justice, and sometimes modern ways missed the point. The nixe had violated the laws of her people and the land. There was a price for that, and whether she paid it now or later made no difference to me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Michelle

  The tractor barreling toward me showed no sign of slowing down. In fact, I was pretty sure it was accelerating. Without a second thought, I turned and sprinted down the corridor. I needed to buy some time to think of a good plan for getting rid of the tractor, which meant I needed to buy myself some time.

  Running willy-nilly through a place I knew had traps wasn’t my brightest idea, but I didn’t have a lot of options. Panting, I took two turns in rapid succession, hoping that if the tractor lost sight of me it wouldn’t be able to follow. For a moment I thought my trick had worked, but based on the sounds behind me, the tractor was still on my trail. Sucking in a deep breath, I put on a burst of speed. While I did enjoy a good run, fleeing for my life wasn’t the same thing, and there was that added delight of having a backpack. With the extra weight and change in my center of gravity, my top speed was greatly reduced.

  There could be something to the idea that the maze was bringing my fears to life. Having the group splintered? Check. Being separated from Elron? Check. Getting stuck in the woods and finding my magic useless? Well, that had happened. I’d even been separated from Patrick. Now I was running away from some bizarre magical construct, which I was pretty sure had happened in one of my nightmares last week. Part of me was starting to think this place was reacting to my thoughts. The rest of me was less sure because that would require a lot of complex spells and even some input from our captor, or whoever was managing this maze.

  While Ned, or someone he worked with, had managed some impressive spell-work, that didn’t mean they were capable of creating a reactive spell. To do what had been done to me and the rest of the group required preplanning and several hours of casting the actual spell. Either way, it didn’t seem like something they would’ve been able to accomplish between rendering the group unconscious by the stream and relocating us to the maze. That much time hadn’t passed while we were unaware.

  The rumble from the other side of the hedge reminded me of my current problems. Taking a left, I ran down a long corridor and was about to turn the corner when I noticed the dirt ahead of me had been disturbed. I skidded to a halt, half toppling into a rhododendron.

  Glancing behind me, I tried to figure out how much time I had. The rumble of the engine left me with little doubt as to its continued pursuit, but it was still out of sight, and this was a long corridor. I had enough time to figure out if I could continue along this path or come up with another plan.

  Turning back to the odd patch in front of me, I quickly swept it for magic. Sure enough, there was something buried. After another check behind me, I gave the magic more attention. Probing it, I realized it was another compulsion charm but rigged far more elaborately that the ones I’d found before. This one had a network of pressure plates that spanned the corridor and stretched on for ten feet. To make sure it captured anyone brave enough to attempt to traverse it, there were three—no four—charms attached to it. Even a quick look was enough for me to determine that at least one of those charms was designed to make the entire contraption more sensitive to pressure.

  Eyeing the area the trap covered, I had to admit that I wasn’t going to be able to jump it. And while I could dismantle it, that would take some time, something that was in rather short supply at the moment.

  As if summoned, the tractor chugged into view. I didn’t even bother swearing, just summoned my wand and latched on to an idea I’d been contemplating before I found the trap. The hedge walls and tractor had magic protecting them, but that wasn’t true of the rest of the environment.

  Taking a deep breath, I focused on exactly what I wanted to accomplish, pointed my wand at the ground in front of the tractor, and gathered my power. “Purisaz obala!”

  A hole large enough to swallow my green menace opened up in front of the tractor. The pit spanned the full width of the corridor, had enough space at the bottom for the tractor to sit level, and the steep sides should make escape impossible.

  I watched the tractor roll the last few feet to the hole, keeping a tight grip on my wand. Since walking into this place, I hadn’t had great success with magic, and I wanted to be ready if I needed to come up with another spell. Or several other spells since that seemed to be the theme for the day.

  The nose of the tractor went over the edge, and it half rolled, half toppled into the hole. I held my breath, hoping that it didn’t have any other tricks tucked behind its bumper.

  The tenor of the engine changed as it shifted gears. From where I was standing, I could just barely see it, but it looked like it was backing up. It stopped, and I heard the gears shift again. A moment later, the tractor was rolling forward. When it stopped with its nose against the dirt wall, I could breathe again. Closing my eyes, I thanked the earth and moon for their help.

  The engine’s sounds changed again, and my eyes popped open.

  “No, no. How?” I groaned.

  The tractor was slowing creeping up the wall, something no ordinary tractor should be able to do.

  My mind raced as I tried to think of another way I could stop it before it got any close
r. Then it hit me. The engine. Without power, the tractor couldn’t run. All I needed to do was disable the engine.

  Probing the magic on the tractor, I searched for a weak point. Mechanics weren’t my strongest suit, and I went through one bad idea after another before I landed on a terribly dangerous but otherwise brilliant idea for crippling the tractor. I needed to cause an engine explosion. It shouldn’t be that difficult. While magic was protecting the outside of the tractor and controlling its actions, the guts were like any other tractor. There was fuel in there. A little extra heat in the wrong areas, and the entire thing should go up.

  The big question wasn’t if it would work, but if I was far enough away to be safe from the blast. Since the size of the explosion would determine the safe distance, and I wouldn’t know that information until after the fact, I decided to go for it. If I hurried, I should be able to get it to explode before it escaped the hole, and the dirt walls would protect me from some of the blast.

  Like everything else I’d done lately, there wasn’t really a spell for exploding tractor engines. Wand pointing in the direction of the tractor, I took the rune for flame and tried to frame it in such a way that I wasn’t making fire so much as encouraging an inferno by adding heat and pressure. Lots of heat.

  I could feel the energy building in the engine, but I kept increasing the force of the spell, wanting it to be the last thing I had to do to the tractor. When it felt close to exploding, I forced a little more magic into it, disconnected myself from the spell, hunkered down, and tossed a hasty shield around myself. Twisting my wrist, I dismissed my wand, covered my ears, and closed my eyes.

  Nothing happened.

  I waited a couple of more seconds. Still nothing.

  Maybe I should check on it. Opening my eyes I looked at the ground and pivoted toward the tractor.

  Kaboom!

  The force of the explosion rippled through the ground, and I lost my balance, ending up on my hands and knees. The shield around me was gone, demolished by the shock waves in the air.

  My ears weren’t ringing. I couldn’t hear anything at all, but I had to know what had happened to the tractor. Turning my head, I looked and saw flames dancing over the twisted remains of the machine. The hole I’d made had been plenty large, but the explosion had nearly doubled its size. The rhododendrons were unharmed and had somehow rearranged themselves along the edge of the chasm and were taking up any room I might have hoped to use as a path around the hole and tractor.

  Great. How was I going to get back to Patrick now?

  Chapter Twenty

  Ned

  I watched as the powder drifted into the bowl. Hopefully Hayato would answer quickly. My snails needed attention, and I had little interest in this side of things. Behind me, the officer made a pained sound.

  “Keep it to yourself,” I scolded. “That badly healed arm is your own fault. You invaded my territory.”

  Behind me the moaning stopped, and not a moment too soon. The water cleared, and I could see Hayato. Bowing, I hurried to tell him the good news. “The officer is awake.”

  “Delightful.” A cruel grin stretched his thin lips.

  “The shipment has been sent to the witches. I’ve located a suitable place for the outdoor snails.” I hurried though the list of things to tell him. Hayato would want to start questioning my captive soon. “I would like my next order of supplies to be of higher quality. I’m tired of their spells breaking.”

  Hayato lost the smile. “If this goes well, I can see to your equipment.”

  Nodding, I continued on to things he cared about. “One officer is dead—I learned that after our last conversation. Bella is also dead. She attempted to slay the elf and failed.”

  “One dead is a good start. I’ll have instructions for managing the rest of them after I question the captive,” Hayato said tersely. “Do you have the talisman I gave you?”

  I nodded slowly. The ring was in my pocket. I could never figure out exactly why, but I found the feel of it on my finger rather distasteful.

  “Get it out. Put it on,” Hayato demanded.

  I wanted to ask if I had to, but the hard look on his face dissuaded me from questioning him. “Of course.”

  Reaching into my pocket, I found the ring, of a size to fit on my left ring finger, which I’d always found somewhat odd since traditionally that finger was reserved for wedding rings. I opened my hand and watched the ring roll around, and I was looking at it even though I’d promised myself I would avert my eyes.

  The ring was made of slightly tarnished silver. The wide band was etched with symbols I didn’t recognize and contained a single oval-cut diamond. Every time the light glittered off the hard edges, I could see flames deep inside the stone, though I kept telling myself that was simply my imagination.

  Sliding the ring onto my finger, I tried to block out the skin-pricking sensation of something crawling up my arm. Where in the past the feeling had subsided rather quickly, this time it intensified, turning into a thousand little pinpoints digging their way into my skin. Clamping my jaw shut, I tried to ignore the pain. A guttural moan forced its way out.

  In a moment the pain faded away, and I found myself looking out of my own eyes as if I were an observer. I could see that I was moving into the bedroom, but I couldn’t feel my body moving. I was completely cut off from the sensation. When I wanted to scream, I found I couldn’t do that either. Whatever the ring had allowed to happen included my being unable to do something as simple as opening my own mouth.

  Demon.

  The word echoed through my consciousness. In the past it had simply been a term for something I thought of as a different race, one that was uncommon. Now I was contemplating the full implication of that name. Gremory had been a demon before he was killed by a local witch fitting the description of the woman in my maze. When Hayato had replaced Gremory as my benefactor, a few delicate questions to some of his other associates had confirmed he was a demon as well.

  My mind flashed to one definition I’d read: a noncorporeal spirit capable of taking possession of a body. That fit what was happening to me. I considered praying, something I hadn’t done in years, but I doubted there was a deity that would listen to a partly disembodied spirit that had very literally made deals with demons.

  When the officer came into view, I focused on what was happening. What Hayato did would be important. This gave me an unexpected and unique position to be able to watch him work.

  The officer’s arm was bruised and swollen, the ropes cutting deep into his flesh. He had small scrapes scattered all over and sported a black eye. He was a large man with dark hair and eyes that didn’t stray from my face. Or maybe it was Hayato’s face now.

  “What is your name?” That was my voice, but Hayato was speaking.

  The officer didn’t say anything.

  “I was hoping we could do this the easy way, however, it is beginning to look like that won’t be possible.” Hayato sighed. “The lives of your group hang in the balance. At this moment all I desire is information. What you tell me could save them. Now, as your name tag seems to have been lost prior to your arrival, will you tell me who you are?”

  The officer glared at Hayato. “Noah Gudger.”

  “That wasn’t so difficult, was it, Noah?” Hayato didn’t wait for an answer. “Your uniform says you work for the Gilmer County Sheriff’s Office. Is that correct?”

  Noah nodded.

  “Delightful.” Hayato let the silence grow uncomfortable before he continued. “I need the names of everyone in your group.”

  Noah ignored the question.

  “Ah, back to being difficult.” I could hear the smile in Hayato’s voice. “I left out a small detail earlier. I have a uniformed gentleman tied up outside. He’s been unwilling to answer my questions. If you don’t help me, I’ll have to hurt him until one of you finds your voice. I’d rather not. I’m a peaceful man at heart, but I do need this information. I’ll give you a moment to think.”

&nbs
p; Hayato was bluffing about having a second hostage, but I didn’t think Noah would realize that. Even if the officer suspected Hayato was lying… Well, Hayato wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Noah. I’d seen him hurt people before.

  When that time to think had gone on for what seemed like hours but couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, Hayato turned away from the bed. “Very well.”

  “Wait.” Noah’s voice was ragged.

  Hayato turned back. “Yes?”

  “Me, Randy Wells, and Patrick Westmoreland. That’s who came up the mountain.” Noah squeezed his eyes shut.

  “You left out two people. Five of you came into my woods.” Hayato’s voice was cold and hard. “I will simply ask your colleague.”

  “Michelle Oaks and Elron. I don’t know his last name.” I could see the fight drain out of him. Some part of that strong man had broken when he admitted the last two names.

  “Now we are making progress.” Hayato tilted my head. “This Michelle, is she the same one who was involved in the incident with the gremlins attacking the jail?”

  Noah nodded.

  “Thank you.” Hayato’s voice was light and relaxed.

  Noah eyed him suspiciously.

  Hayato lunged forward, wrapped both of my hands around Noah’s neck, and started to squeeze. Noah started thrashing around. He yanked at his ropes, nearly freeing himself from Hayato’s grip. Even if I’d been able to control my body, I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done. While I had little desire to take a humanoid life, Hayato had provided for me when no one else had.

  Noah stopped moving, but Hayato kept a firm hold on his neck. A warm feeling flowed into me. It got warmer and warmer. When I didn’t think I could take any more, it stabilized. With a satisfied moan, Hayato removed his hands from Noah’s neck.