Inevitably, humans become corrupted when given power. We wonder . . . what will you do, little witch?
He bit down on his tongue. He had to get out. If he could escape, then Volac couldn’t use him.
As soon as his body stopped shaking. As soon as he could stand.
We can give you the strength to do so. Give you the power to crush your oppressor.
“I d–don’t need you,” he hissed.
Don’t you?
He had to find a way out. There had to be some crack in the wards that sealed this accursed place from the rest of the world. If only he could find it.
He’ll only find others.
With a hiss, Kanruo pushed himself to his feet, leaning on the wall for support as a surge of dizziness threatened to drown him under its riptide.
Wind wailed through the empty marble halls, threatening to knock him off his feet. Kanruo put his head down, bracing against it.
Cold. He was so cold.
He inched along the wall, each step demanding exponentially more effort than the last. The slightest of motions sent spikes of sharp agony through him, blood trailing behind him.
The hall split into two paths, with neither direction promising respite. He picked the left path and continued his hapless journey.
The arching ceilings of the citadel opened into the sky brimming with gray clouds. The gloom roiled, the lowest wisps brushing the topmost spires of the gleaming white keep.
Tearing his eyes from the sky’s theatrics, Kanruo found a path of flat rocks before him. The stones glittered in the low light, reflecting tiny jewels of mica as they wove through the scorched earth toward an ornate gate.
A way out!
Kanruo hobbled forward, ignoring the aching deep within his body, the blood leaking down his legs.
Ashen dust kicked up around his feet.
He looked down, and the empty eye sockets of a half-buried skull stared up at him.
We were sad to see her go. She held out the longest. The Void sounded almost reverent as Kanruo stared at the fallen victim.
Would that happen to him if he stayed here? Would he end up just another forgotten pile of bones?
Thunder boomed overhead and lightning arced across the sky, snapping him out of his trance.
He pushed himself onward. The more he walked, the further away the gate seemed. His vision blurred as dust rose around him in whirling funnels.
Just a little further. He was almost there.
Finally, his hand brushed against the gleaming gate. Upon it now, he could marvel at its intricacy. It stood two times taller than he was, topped with spikes. Rows upon rows of black wrought iron formed lattices interspersed with whirling curls over gleaming copper. At the center where the two halves met was a brass relief featuring a skull with a pair of butterfly wings fitted behind it.
He clung to the steel bars for support, sweat dripping from his forehead.
With a grunt, he pushed the gate open. It swung open obligingly and a whimper left the skull as it gnashed its teeth in anguish. The butterfly wings behind it beat frantically against its metal solder, trying to escape its prison.
The clouds broke, sending rays of blue light into the space beyond the gate, drawing his attention to the sight that awaited him.
Kanruo wanted to scream. Wail. Do something. Anything!
But all he could do was stand there, eyes wide as he took in the nightmare.
A garden of ashen flowers, their petals folded into tiny masks of terror that wept blood. Trees with branches of bone folded over themselves as they bowed over tepid pools of muck. Lingering among their roots were tiny rabbit creatures, with human faces stitched to the bodies, their complexions smooth and doll-like with glassy, unblinking eyes as they hopped about.
The earth was different here. The courtyard he’d first landed in had smelled stale, like old, burnt bones. But here, the sickly stink of fermented sweets that indicated rotting flesh rose up in clouds of steam. From the decaying ground, toxic fungi blossomed. Massive white caps that resembled a giant’s molar encrusted with jewels of blood. Red stalks with eyeball fruits reached up to his waist. Black capped toadstools dripped thick, inky syrup from between palpus with the texture of raw meat. Finger-shaped appendages in gray and bruised purple reached out of the earth and nabbed at his feet like the undead.
Waiting for him among the decaying arboretum was Volac.
Kanruo couldn’t get his legs to work. A rush of dreadful premonition flooded him. Fear seized his muscles, locking him in place as the man’s Void black eyes met his.
“You thought you could escape? How precious.” Volac swooped down on him, grabbing his arm and dragging Kanruo into the garden. “It is time for your baptism. To erase what you were and become what you’re meant to be.”
Kanruo dug his heels into the ash, straining against him. No more!
But Volac’s grip was an unforgiving iron vise that pulled him deeper into the garden, the gate gradually obscured behind the wasted foliage.
Kanruo snatched at the flowers, thorns of bone cutting into his palm as he tried to stop the inevitable.
“No! No, please!”
His pleas fell on merciless ears. He dropped, grabbing a handful of ash. Using Volac’s grip against him, Kanruo pivoted around and threw the ash in his face.
Volac blinked, his grip tightening on him. He raised a hand and delicately wiped the soot from his eyes.
“That was unwise.” The gates slammed shut behind them, the hollow metal sending a resounding clank through the garden.
A cold hand rested on his shoulder, whirling him around. Adrenaline fueled his desperation, and with a grunt, he slammed his fist into Volac’s stomach.
Volac stared down at him, unmoved. “The more you fight, the more you will suffer. Accept it. Become what you’re destined to be.”
He snatched Kanruo by his hair, dragging him back into the garden toward a bubbling black pond stained with oil slicks of blood. He callously flung the witch into the muck.
Kanruo’s limbs sank as he struggled to stand. Feebly, he tried to pull against the hungry suction that latched onto his feet.
Down he went, the ground beneath his feet vanishing. Kanruo thrashed, fighting to keep his head above the surface, gasping for breath.
A thick tentacle slid up his leg from beneath the tar. Its suckers latched onto his flesh, wrapping around the appendage and pulling him under.
Volac stood at the shore, watching with cold eyes as he struggled.
This was it. He was going to die.
Kanruo screamed in terror, the sound becoming garbled and eventually silenced as the putrid sludge closed over his face.
A blindfold of tar coated his eyes.
Down, down, and down he was dragged, pulled deeper and deeper into the oily pond. Slippery feelers pinched his jaw open, forcing him to allow the foul fluid to infect him.
The contagion leaked into his cells. It tore into the delicate nucleic acids that made him who he was, altering their structure.
He thrashed as the intrusion rippled through his body, his screams muffled in the viscous oil.
Feed us! A choir of voices snarled. Feed us! Let us in!
The blindfold peeled back, and a series of faces flashed before him, shining against the oblivion. Curved teeth and bloody sunset eyes hungered. He swung wildly at them, his motions slowed by the viscosity of the sludge.
Feed us! Give it to us! They circled him, mouths full of long needled teeth, snapping at him. Recessed jaws unhinged to lash and tear at his flesh. Long and thick tentacles batted him about between them. Each swat left bloody imprints of thousands of tiny hooks.
FEED US! FEED US! FEED US!
He curled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs in an effort to protect himself.
A stillness came over the witch. He was alone here in the dark. Only himself and the demons of the Void. Those that would devour him. It was difficult to focus, hard to think. Spells and magical gestures dan
ced in a haze in his mind. Could he even cast them in a place without an ether connection?
He uncurled a hand and reached out, searching, pleading for something, anything to bring this hell to an end.
A clawed hand grasped his and Kanruo met the shining eyes of the Void.
We can help you. Save you.
The magic of the Void was a blinding heat within his veins. A promise. A contract.
Kanruo yanked his hand back, desperately swimming away. No, no, he wouldn’t give in!
But you will. Or you will die.
He would take his chances with death, then.
Volac will only find another. This cycle will not end with you, little witch, it warned.
His eyes were heavy, his limbs made of lead, nearly impossible to move. He couldn’t discern what way was up. Every part of him ached.
One more stroke, Kanruo told himself. Just one more stroke.
The surface of the pond wavered as pale fingers pressed up from beneath the thin film of multi-colored scum stretched over it.
A hand broke through the surface tension. It flailed in the air, searching for purchase, until it fumbled upon the crumbling shore. Lean fingers pawed at the bank, digging into the scorched earth as a second appendage joined it. With a garbled shout, Kanruo pulled himself out of the pond.
His hands shook as he clutched at the bank of ash, sucking in frantic lungfuls of air. The powder-soft char couldn’t support his weight and crumbled beneath him. Kanruo threw his other arm up, scouring for solid ground.
Violent coughs wracked his chest, expelling black mucus.
A hand was in his hair again, yanking him up. Kanruo clawed at it with grease-blackened fingers as Volac scrutinized him.
“The Void calls to you,” he tutted. “And yet you reject the gifts it offers. You’re only making it harder on yourself.”
Kanruo raised his eyes. “I won’t give in,” he hissed.
“Oh, but you will.” Volac leaned closer to him.
Kanruo spat in his face.
“Even diamonds crack.” Volac chuckled as he wiped the fluid off his face. “And you, little witch, you’re just talc. I’ll carve out your soul and remold it in the Void’s image.”
He dropped Kanruo to the ground. “Resist as much as you want. I have all of eternity on my side.”
14
How long had he been here? At some point along the way, Kanruo stopped keeping track.
The days and nights blended together inside the citadel. He didn't remember eating, and he never spoke. Who was there to talk to? His life was a haze of dreamless black sleep punctuated by whatever torments Volac concocted for him.
Sometimes, he didn’t see his vile captor for days or weeks at a time. In the beginning, he’d tried to escape. But the citadel was ever expanding, a hopeless maze with wards beyond his ability to penetrate.
In the inevitable moments he was caught attempting to break free, Volac cast him into the crypts beneath the citadel. And there, he was never alone.
Wraiths born from the Void lingered in the darkness, almost human in form, but too tall, with too many eyes and fingers too long. They wandered the crypts and attacked unprovoked. Nails tore into his flesh, slashing at him as their eyes penetrated his mind. Hungrily, they rooted through his mind, digging up every memory just as a pig sniffs out truffles.
They repeatedly tried and failed to extract the memories for their own taking. Their psychic bombardment left him a sobbing, drooling mess on the floor of the catacombs. The only way he could find a reprieve was to hide among the bones of the dead.
He didn’t understand why the wraiths overlooked the tombs until the Void itself explained it to him.
They’re dead zones. The Void tittered in amusement. Much like this realm cannot be reached by the ether. The Void skulked along the corners of the crypts, just out of reach. The memories of those enshrined inside the tombs create a barrier of white noise that prevents the wraiths from sensing you. Although . . .
It sidled up to him, shadowy tail caressing his face. Open yourself to me and you can control the wraiths.
In those first terrifying days, Kanruo had considered it. Before the ache of hunger became his norm, before layer after layer of scar tissue had formed over his body. Back when he still counted the days.
In the end, he always spurned the Void’s offer, over and over again, until it became a reflex.
But it was clear that Volac’s amusement with his resistance was wearing thin. And he displayed his displeasure across the witch’s body, leaving Kanruo bleeding and aching.
The taste and scent of rot stuck to the top of his mouth. The fragrance lingered, slimy and cold, slithering down the back of his throat as the pool of nightmares tried to contaminate him, to find a foothold in his soul and psyche.
It was all a blur. Kanruo couldn’t count how many times he’d been locked in the crypts or drowned in the pool of blackened blood. How many times had Volac laid into him? Only one thing mattered, that he didn’t say yes to the Void.
As long as he didn’t, the world and all its ugliness were preserved. As long as Kanruo was alive, Volac wouldn’t seek out another vessel.
Numbness began to settle in, singing in harmony with the coldness inside him. He didn’t even have the strength to cry anymore.
He gazed up at the sky from where he lay, the unchanging gray clouds boiling overhead. He didn’t remember when his clothes had disintegrated, the synthetic fibers finally worn thin and shredding into fragments.
In the distance, thunder rumbled.
He stared blankly at the gathering clouds. A breeze whipped dust up around him, lashing at his parched skin as lightning sliced through the clouds.
It reached out and struck one of the bone trees in the garden with an ear-rupturing CRACK. The tree ignited into brilliant orange flames, blistering against the endless expanse of gray.
He rolled on his side, marveling at the blaze. Heat radiated off the blackening tree. He reached a hand out to it. It would be so easy to just burn with the tree . . .
As if sensing his plan, the clouds opened and began to sling hail at him, bruising his skin and layering the ground in an icy blanket. Briefly, the fire wicked up against the sky before the tree collapsed, smothering itself.
The rain came next, saturating the landscape and washing away his hope of self-immolation.
His muscles screamed in protest as he rolled to a seated position.
He felt his bones press against his flesh as he rocked, his arms wrapped around his knees. His hair was matted and long, his face unshaven.
How had he existed for so long in a place like this? This dead land that sucked life into a dry husk?
You have magic. It extends you, even when you don’t have a ley line.
Ah, yes, the Void. Unhelpful as ever.
You really are a sucker for suffering, aren’t you? Just let us in so we can kill him already. Then this whole nasty business will be done with.
Kanruo giggled suddenly. It was an absurd noise as a manic smile broke out on his face.
Yes. Yes! Just let the Void in. Kill Volac!
And then . . . then the world would end.
He laughed, the sound rising over the rain and thunder. It carried out over the dead expanse around him. As it echoed back, he sobered, picking himself up and staggering aimlessly into the halls of the citadel. His head lolled from side to side as he moved and the Void pranced alongside him in its long-legged cat-like form.
No, he refused to be that selfish. No matter how much it hurt, he could never give in.
Volac was waiting for him in the courtyard, piles of bones, crystals, and metal before him. This was new.
“Come, stand here,” Volac directed him. Kanruo obeyed. What else was he to do? What choice did he have?
Volac moved behind him and pressed his body sickeningly close as he took Kanruo’s hands in his own.
“Focus,” Volac hissed as he pointed the witch’s hands toward the mounds of materials. �
��Build. Create. Find the pieces and make them fit.”
All around them the magic flowed, great and terrible. Unlike the nimble, golden threads of the ether, the Void’s magic was thick. It materialized as ropes of foggy black slime that slipped and slithered about, desecrating everything it touched. Locked inside the invasive appendage was the power to create as well as destroy.
Kanruo felt the foul power surge through him, so powerful that it threatened to make the very atoms of his being rupture and scatter across the universe.
He whimpered, gritting his teeth, sweat beading over his flesh. The strain to contain the power being channeled into him shook the marrow in his bones. His nerve endings fired frantic messages across his synapses, creating a roaring waterfall of white noise that echoed endlessly inside his head.
“It hurts,” he rasped, throat parched. His blistered lips were caressed by the slick Void magic, leaving them buzzing and tingling.
“Focus,” Volac told him, voice honey-sweet as his tongue licked against the shell of Kanruo’s ear. “Focus.”
Kanruo squeezed his eyes shut as tears leaked out of them. His arms trembled, his fingers spread as wide as they could. Then he curled each digit toward his palm, manipulating the heavy rope of magic. His arms contorted, one twisted back behind him, his shoulder rotating to its limit as his elbow bent inwards. The other arched overhead, fingers coaxing the cable forward until it latched onto the pieces and parts before him.
Crystals and electric circuits rose in the air around them. They drifted, suspended by the Void magic, bumping into each other with gentle dinks and clinks until they began to snap together. Bones fitted to machinery and crystals slotted into circuitry as he fit the demented puzzle together.
What terrible thing was he building? A large arching bridge, but to where? It radiated a sinister energy, the aura around it sending tremors that threatened to rattle his organs loose.
A jawbone snapped into place on the lower half of a cybernetic skull. As it did, an eerie whine filled the air, raising the hairs on the back of Kanruo’s neck.
If he faltered here, the result could be deadly.
But it might kill Volac as well. The thought brushed his mind, and glee billowed up inside him. He wouldn’t have to stay alive if Volac were dead!
The Last Moon Witch Page 15