by Alexis Batty
“This is my sister Morgana. Since I am unwedded and childless, I have felt it necessary to prepare her to take over the family in case I never have a child to pass the role on to. This will be a learning experience for her. She will not participate. Her role is to observe and only observe.”
“But-” Yuki starts.
“It isn’t your call Yuki. This is obviously something that we will all be divided on. The benefit of having a true Head of the Council here is that she may decide on issues like this that deal mainly with tradition,” Oona interrupts.
“I see no reason to not let her stay. I know tradition dictates otherwise, but traditionally the methods for dealing with witches has been to set them on fire, throw rocks at them, or hang them. Sometimes traditions are wrong,” I answer. “As this is a change from the normal custom, we will wait if anyone here without a spouse present or in general chooses to have their heir present instead.”
I can hear Ash quietly chuckle behind him. Not only had I tossed aside a stupid tradition, but I managed to open the seat behind Xerxes up to Jared.
Tamara, Xerxes second wife, doesn’t attend the meetings because her special gift is premonition. She’s very strong. This makes being around large groups of people difficult for her. The visions don’t stop and give her a headache.
Xerxes immediately sends a note to Jared. It’s in the form of a bird that flies straight to wherever Jared is.
In the distraction of sending messages, Morgana leaps onto the table and throws a handful of dust at me. My head swirls with jumbled thoughts. Our masterful plan didn’t work. Yay for me.
16
My eyes feel dry and heavy. They don’t’ want to open. I feel like half my body is miles away. Eventually, I’m able to pick out the maniacal laughter in front of me. I’m going to have to listen to the evil monologue bit. This should be interesting and something I should probably open my eyes for.
I squint up at Morgana. Even while laughing evilly, she still looks sweet and innocent. There’s just a touch of crazy in her green eyes. She’s doing a weird little happy dance. Strangely, I’m at peace even though this pint-sized bag of crazy is probably going to kill me soon.
I look around at my surroundings and realize I’m in some kind of cave, lovely. Ropes tie my arms and legs to an exceptionally uncomfortable metal chair. It sucks the heat out of my body and dug into my back.
“Seriously, that was so easy. I can’t believe you even showed yourself. We all thought that you would hide away in that little safe house of yours. But Juliana was smart enough to convince the Council to force Xerxes to bring you out of hiding. If there is one thing Xerxes follows completely it’s his duty.
“Now the Goddess Eris will be able to reign, causing discord throughout the world. We shall be her Generals leading an army of witches across all nations wreaking havoc. This time we will have it. I just love torturing goody-two-shoes,” giggles Morgana as she pulls a knife out of thin air. “Don’t worry. It will only hurt a great deal before you die.”
I scream as she runs the tip of the blade along my arm. There’s no blood but the smell of burnt flesh, I look. The wound looks like it’s been cauterized.
“Did I forget to mention that this little blade of mine was forged with magic? Each wound I inflict on you will be different. You won’t know what to expect,” Morgana grinds out the last word as she shoves the blade into my right shoulder. I bite my tongue and taste blood. I strain against the onslaught of icy pain radiating from my shoulder. I’m never going to scream for her again; I will not give her the satisfaction of hearing it.
“Looky who thinks they’re tough. Well, you won’t be tough for long.”
Morgana sits on the ground grabs ahold of my left hand. She digs the knife edge over the pads of all my fingers at the same time. It feels like thousands of bees are stinging them. I try to pull my hand back and close it, but Morgana holds fast pressing her thumb into my palm as she finishes her scrapping.
I hear my dress tear over my heavy breathing. Blinking away the tears, I look down to find Morgana has cut a slit up my dress and through my leggings barely missing the skin. My right leg is exposed halfway up my thigh.
The witch waits until she has my undivided attention before she stabs the knife into my leg. She doesn’t do a normal stab. Instead, she stabs the knife so it slides under the skin but not really into the muscle.
At first, I can’t feel anything. I can see the knife under my skin but I can’t feel it. That doesn’t last long. Suddenly, millions of claws are ripping through my leg. Morgana wiggles the knife and the claws try to rip my leg open.
I scream as she pulls the knife out. The skin closes by itself but the claws still dig through my leg. Cackling fills the cave as Morgana dances around me.
“This is so much fun,” she giggles.
Morgana climbs on my lap. Her face is inches from mine. She kneels on my legs pinning mine to the chair even more than the ropes had done.
“You know what you are? You’re a slug doomed to die for our noble cause. I mean seriously, what kind of freak are you with your squeaky clean past? You don’t know what it’s like to live and now you never will. I’m going to brand you so when your body is found everyone will know what you are.”
Morgana’s smile is too wide. It shows too many teeth. She brings the knife up to my chest. I hope that I’ll die quickly. The pain from my other injuries is starting to overwhelm me.
My dull eyes stare into Morgana’s. Now that I can see them up close, I see they’re filled with a dark light full of wild and crazy ideas. This woman is capable of anything simply because she wants to watch everyone around her burn.
The knife never plunges into my chest. No, it isn’t time to kill me yet. Instead, Morgana carves the word freak on my chest as she yells it over and over.
The first letter feels like needles injecting each cell with a compound making them explode. The next letter is a numbness that never went away. The ‘e’ feels like claws ripping through my skin, while the ‘a’ feels like a normal knife wound. The last letter sends pain straight through to the other side like I had been shot.
The door slams open with a loud bang. “Morgana you’re supposed to wait for Juliana.”
“It’s just a little torture. She can’t be upset with me about that, not when she’s the one who taught me. I think she’ll be proud of me,” Morgana answers smugly.
“She’s furious and sent me to get you. She wants a word with you. Go, you know she doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” orders the person.
Morgana disappears from view, and I blink away the tears. This new person won’t get the satisfaction of seeing them as well. I try to force my head up to look at my new captor, but it drops to my chest. My act of bravery and the pain of my wounds have sapped all my energy.
“Gwen? Are you the Andolyn witch? I didn’t even know you were a witch.”
“Who are you?” I ask weakly.
“Casper,” he whispers.
My mind reels, not Casper. Please don’t let me be tortured and killed by Casper. He’s the one person who stood up for me in school when the popular kids called me a nerd or geek. Not Casper who used to tell me jokes when we got bored in class. Anyone but Casper, please.
The tears start to flow; I’ve grown too tired and weak to be able to fight them back. I’m going to die at the hands of one of my oldest friends.
“WHY? Why you!” I scream. “You were the first boy I ever fell in love with, but you never felt the same about me. I had to learn to accept that, but it broke my heart doing it. How can you possibly be here of all places? Never have I met someone that’s as nice as you.”
“Gwen I-”
“Just leave me alone!”
“I can’t. I can’t stop this. They’ll kill me. I’m sorry Gwen that it’s you, but my hands are tied please understand,” begs Casper.
“You tied your own hands. You are not the Casper I know. He would have done anything to help someone in need no matter the co
st. Somewhere that part of you died. Now I must grieve for my lost friend. Go away Casper stop haunting me,” I wept.
“Gwe-”
“GO!” I scream.
Casper opens the door and steps outside. I don’t hear footsteps walking away, so I can only assume he’s standing guard outside the door.
The tears are still coming. I’m powerless to stop them. I think of all the things I’m going to miss like my parent, Ash, the library, Jared, and even Xerxes. I wonder what will happen to Binawalka.
Binkawalka! Of course, why in the world did I not think about that sooner? I say the spell to take me home. Nothing happens. I look up in frustration to see a strange symbol painted on the ceiling. There is a line with two C’s on each side mirroring each other.
The door slams open and Juliana walks in with Morgana behind her smiling wickedly. This is not going to end well for me.
Juliana sticks her finger in the open wound at my shoulder. I nearly pass out from the pain. “Morgana dear, you are far too hasty to inflict such wounds. You must start slow and small.”
I watch as Juliana takes the knife from Morgana. She quickly smashes the hilt of the knife onto the middle finger of my left hand. My world turns black as I hear a distant scream.
17
I wake in a pain filled fog. Someone keeps calling my name. They sound almost desperate, but I can’t imagine why. I try to push them away, but my arms won’t move. Gasping, I come rushing back to reality.
“Gwen listen to me. They’re almost done prepping the ritual room. We need to get you out of here now,” urges Casper as he finishes untying my arms. “It won’t take long for them to notice I’ve left. Once they do, they’ll come straight here.”
Hope surges through me. There’s a small possibility that we can actually do this. There’s so much I have left to do in my life, and I’m not going down without a fight.
Casper grabs my right arm; it’s the least injured. He opens the door a few inches to check if the coast is clear.
“Ok this way,” Casper said as he pulls me down the hall. “If something happens to me, you keep running down this hallway. Go left at the end of this hallway. Try to follow your nose. We’re in some caves buried under the Blue Mountains in Jamaica. You’ll smell salt water the closer you get to the exit.”
It’s becoming obvious that my physical training with Ash had been a good idea. We’re running up the hall at an incline and without my training, I would never have been able to do this. If I ever got out of this, I’m going to have to give him a party or give him a present.
“YOU! You little backstabbing urchin!” screeches Morgana.
Casper catapults me in front of him. I almost fall on my face, “RUN GWEN!”
I pull at my reserve energy trying to get a boost of speed, but it’s no use. I hear Casper scream.
It’s been clearly established throughout my lifetime that if I was in a horror movie, I would be one of the first people to die. I glance back and see Casper crumble to the ground.
Morgana’s favorite knife is protruding from his eye. Only the hilt was visible. I trip over my feet and fall. My shoulder is still oozing blood. It hadn’t stopped. I scramble to get back on my feet. Blood has smeared on the ground making it slippery, and I fall again. I am going to die.
I look down the hall at my fleeing chance of freedom. A woman in a dark gray Grecian dress with a silver belt is walking towards me. She’s holding a shield and a spear. Her helmet nearly covers her face, but you can still see her long blonde hair braided down her back. It nearly touches the ground. I’m toast.
She reaches down and picks me up by my dress with what seems to be no effort at all. Yup, I really am toast, like charred to ash toast. She sets me on my feet. Her voice whispers of unspoken wisdom nearly distracting me from what she’s saying to me.
“Run Gwen. They’re almost here, but you must get closer or they will not be able to find you.”
There’s no way I’m going to ignore help even from a stranger. I run as fast as I can. I’m actually proud of myself for not turning around as I hear Morgana scream. At this point, I figure she’s getting what she deserves, and I really don’t want to watch.
My lungs are starting to burn and my arms ache. Blood is running down from my shoulder to my fingers. Hopefully, I haven’t lost too much blood. My leg feels like it’s being ripped to pieces and my chest is heavy and on fire. My other wounds don’t bleed much, but they all hurt. My broken finger is swollen four times its normal size, but on the bright side, I can’t feel it.
It’s hard to smell. My nose is running and no matter how many times I blow it into my sleeve, I just can’t make it stop. I try to take deep breaths to smell salt water, so far I nothing has smelled remotely close to it.
At the fork in the hallway, I stop running just long enough to take a calming breath, turn left, blow my nose, and breathe as deeply as I can through my nose. I smell a faint whiff of salt water. Another breath confirms it.
I hear something and pause. People are coming. They’re trying to be quiet, but many of them are failing miserably. Panicked, I look for anything I can use as a weapon or a place to hide. There’s nothing except bare rock walls. “Crap,” I mutter.
“Gwen!”
I know that voice. I trust that voice with every fiber of my being. “ASH!” I sob. I try running again, but I slip and run into the wall. My tears are blurring my vision. It doesn’t matter; Ash has his arms wrapped around me within seconds. A wall of lupines from the meeting forms behind me.
I watch as Xerxes and a large group of witches storm down the hall towards us. Every single head is there, except Juliana. Never have I seen such a powerful group of people who look so livid before in my life. I’m just glad they’re on my side.
Oona steps towards us. I can feel Ash building up to a growl, so I pinch him. This is Oona his Godmother. The pinching doesn’t help. He growls anyways.
“Ash let’s get you two out of here. There’s no need for her to stay here putting herself at risk. We will end this. Your pack mates will see to it that justice is served. You trust them enough to report back to you whether or not the mission is successful. I will transport you back to my family’s home. From there, Gwen can use the spell to get back to her family’s home. Everything will be ok now. Please, just stick to the plan,” pleads Oona.
“Ash, I want to go home,” I cry.
Some of the tension visibly leaves Ash. Oona smiles grimly at me. I can feel the tension start to leave me. If Ash hadn’t been holding on so tightly, I would have crashed to the floor. Ash lets out a whimper, and Oona places her hand on Ash’s shoulder.
18
I blink. We’re in an industrial styled house. The walls look like concrete. A giant metal clock is in front of me. Cement stairs with a dark metal railing are next to the clock.
There’s metal everywhere. Every piece of furniture or feature in the house has a large abundance of metal in it. The countertops are concrete stained to match various shades of bright metals. It’s amazing.
“Oona you’re going to have to find a way to extract him from her, so I can heal her,” urges a new voice.
“I know Nicholas, but he may need some time can she wait a minute? He growled at me earlier,” Oona answers.
“No, she can’t wait. She has lost a lot of blood. An infection is starting in her left arm. If her finger isn’t set soon, I may not be able to fix it. It may be permanently bent at a wrong angle or even need to be amputated. Resetting it is already going to be a bitch, for both of us. You need to get through to him,” Nicholas pushes.
“I don’t think I can,” admits Oona worriedly.
Like a light switch turning on, I realize Oona will never get through to Ash right now. He’s making all sorts of weird grunts, whimpers, and growls too quietly for anyone else to hear. I feel them more than hear them.
“Ash,” I choke out. My throat is dry and every muscle in my body hurts. He pulls me tighter to him. I know that he’s been worri
ed and probably blames himself for my kidnapping, but if he doesn’t let go, he’s going to be responsible for my death.
I bite him as hard as I can right below his collarbone. Instinctively, Ash pulls back. His eyes clear. Ash is back, which is good because he catches me on my way down to the ground. He cradles my head in his lap. His eyes fill with tears.
Nicholas, well I assume he’s Nicholas, rushes over and starts working on my shoulder. The icy feeling had lingered. It’s infused with warmth. Nicholas’ healing magic feels weird. It’s like your muscle and skin are knitting themselves back together. I’m feeling a little better, until I scream.
Magically setting a broken finger hurts just as bad as, if not worse than, having it set by hand. I’m fairly certain that some of the bone, if not all of it, had been smashed into tiny fragments.
Ash is holding my head in his hands. I watch as his canines slowly shrink. This is hard for him as well. Our eyes connect while Nicholas heals the cut on my arm. It takes several more minutes for him to finish healing all my wounds.
“You, my dear, are very lucky,” sighs Nicholas.
I snort, “I don’t feel all that lucky.”
His outfit almost matches Oona’s. He’s in an all-black tux decked out with gold buttons on his vest. The same swirling pattern on the buttons is woven into the fabric. The swirls are gold. He has blue eyes and light brown hair, but something about him seems familiar.
“Us Andolyns have to stick together, you know. I’m not sure if anyone has told you, but you’re the spitting image of Piper. It’s nice to finally see you again, being an Uncle is much more fun when you have a niece to actually dote on.” He holds out his hand and smiles.
Ash laughs.
I screech in a much-undignified manner while lying on the floor.
Nicholas helps me up and pulls me into a hug. My mind is blank. I begin to wonder how many relatives are going to be hiding in the woodwork.
“Where were you tonight, or whenever the meeting was?” My sense of time is off. I’m not sure what time it is. This house has no windows. Seriously, time deprivation is a form of torture.