A Witch’s Revenge (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 4)

by Auburn Tempest

  I hug Gran and Dart and join Patty and Sloan over by the queen. “How is she?”

  Dora straightens from whatever healing spell she’s casting and shakes her head. “We need to figure out where they’re siphoning the prana that powers her lifeforce or she won’t last much longer.”

  The six of us materialize on the north boundary of the excavation site of Gobekli Tepe. We’re on a rise above the discovered city and take a moment to assess our surroundings. Because Sloan has never been to Turkey before, it’s Nikon who brought us on this leg of our adventure. The Greek’s ability to transport isn’t hindered by the internal GPS restriction Sloan works with. Nikon can focus on a point on a map and get there.

  Besides, although Sloan’s putting on a good front, I don’t think he’s as fixed up as he’s letting on. I totes get that and let him fake it without questioning him. After all, I’m doing the same thing, aren’t I?

  “Well, done, Greek.” Dillan pulls his hood up. “Right where we need to be.”

  “Yeah, Google Earth street view was a game-changer for me. I can pretty much go anywhere with pinpoint accuracy.”

  “Ah…where are ye, my precious?” Patty’s eyes narrow behind his round spectacles, and he does a slow, runway turn. It’s nighttime here, and hundreds of lit torches outline and highlight the scene below us. Patty searches the darkness in every direction before turning back to us. “Och, I feel her. My wee dragon dagger is close.”

  “Where are we headed?” I call Birga forward.

  Patty frowns. “She’s under us, but I don’t know how to find her.”

  “Give me five minutes,” Dillan says. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “Cool,” Emmet says. “I need to piss anyway.

  “Ye didn’t go before we left the house, did ye?” Dillan asks in his best impression of our father’s accent.

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, regroup in five. Bruin, would you like to come out and play?”

  I thought you’d never ask.

  The pressure in my chest builds until my bear pops free and materializes at my side. “Hey, big guy.”

  “Hey, Red. Let the games begin.”

  Dora strides away from the group, pulls up a standing torch, and spins it in her hands like a Hawaiian flame juggler. The fire screams against the blackness of the night sky, letting off sparks of fire in its wake. After dazzling us with her dexterity and testing its weight and balance, she roots the staff against the grass.

  Her call to nature tingles across my skin as the torch staff thickens and twists around her hand as a protective guard. Dora is more than a druid. She has huge roots in the traditional wizarding world too.

  It’s such a kick to watch her work.

  Bruin and Nikon strike up a convo so I take the opportunity to check in on Sloan. “You okay? How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. I could use a day or two in bed sleeping though.”

  “I hear you. Between the portaling and time spent in the dragon lair and chasing down witches, I’ve lost two or three days. I’m not sure how many hours I’m behind on sleep.”

  He leans closer and squeezes me in a one-armed hug. “You’re officially invited to join me.”

  I chuckle. “You’re taking advantage of my weariness.”

  His cocky smile is too cute. “Whatever works. A good guy can still be a bad boy.”

  “Mmm…that’s a good thing. I likes me a bad boy.”

  Dillan jogs back, his footsteps silent against the brittle grass of the excavation site. “All aboard. The witch ass-kicking train is leaving the station.”

  We fall into formation, and I call forward my body armor. As I connect with the Tough as Bark gauntlets gifted to me by my ancient ancestor, Fionn mac Cumhaill, the intricate inking of trees takes root on my arms. Branches and leaves twine over my skin moving upward and outward from my shoulders, neck, and chest, while roots snake down my arms, fingers, and down my body.

  A month ago I was horrified by the inking of the spell. Then it saved my life. Then it saved me again.

  I would’ve been dead four or five times over by now if it wasn’t for this armor. Funny how opinions change when held in a new light.

  “We’re getting closer.” Patty maneuvers through the rocky terrain like a spry mountain goat. I thought his short stature would make hiking through the rough landscape in the dark a slow and tedious process. Nope. He’s remarkably sure-footed and adept. “I feel my girl callin’ to me.”

  When we come to a rise in the landscape, Dillan signals for us to stop. He flashes hand signals of what’s happening over the rise. Emmet and I nod.

  We’re both well-versed in the unspoken language of the police raid. Hell, Da taught us as kids, and we used that as the basis for all our childhood games. Over the years, we adapted and added some signals.

  It dawns on me that the others are lost.

  I raise my finger for everyone to hold position and speak to Bruin and Nikon. There are two guards, two hundred feet to our right. We need them taken out with no chance to sound an alarm. Do you think—

  Consider it done, Bruin says. He looks at Nikon. On one, Greek. Five. Four. Three…

  Nikon frowns at me when Bruin disappears. Damn it. He ditched me.

  I meet the curious gazes of the others and shrug. A moment later, Nikon snaps back. “All clear. And just an FYI, your bear is a greedy fighter.”

  “True story. He loves to maim baddies and doesn’t share well with others.”

  “It doesn’t matter who took them out.” Patty steps over the rise and heads toward the opening of a cave. “Two fewer witches to block us on our path of vengeance.”

  I rub my hands over my sleeves and shiver.

  Justice is what I’m looking for…isn’t it?

  The fact that I’m not one hundy percent sure ignites a dull ache in my chest. The druid I want to be stands solidly in the “good guy” column.

  Yes, I’m angry about Sloan’s suffering and what they’re doing to the queen dragon in their quest for power dominance, but if I lose track of who I am in these battles, aren’t I as much of a problem as the people I’m trying to stop?

  We trudge toward a rocky outcropping, and Dillan points at a hole in the ground. “It’s a forty-foot drop straight down, then into the maze of corridors we go.”

  Emmet, Dillan, Sloan, and I call on Feline Finesse and step off, landing soundlessly on the balls of our feet at the bottom. When we get there, Dora is already standing there, her torch lighting the small space. I have no idea how she managed that so quickly, but really, what do I know next to her?

  Diddly-squat.

  Once Nikon sees where we are, he flashes Patty and himself down to join us. “Thanks for the light.”

  Dora nods. She’s been unusually reserved since we picked her up at the dragon’s lair. Other than the time we spent back in Carlisle Castle, I’ve never known her out of drag. I’m not sure what to think about her sedate black outfit, her lack of an outrageous wig, or her subtle mannerisms.

  “I hope being here with us isn’t asking too much of you,” I whisper as we navigate the maze behind Dillan and his cape of knowing stuff. “I know your magic side is something you try to keep in the past.”

  She makes a wordless noise of dismissal and shrugs. “Destiny has other plans, girlfriend. You gave me the brooch for safekeeping long ago, and I failed to secure it. I’m a Keeper of Dragons and failed to connect with your queen when you told me she exists. I took an oath to safeguard magic, and I’ve failed that too. I won’t fail again. All or nothing isn’t working anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. The way your family has embraced your gifts makes me ashamed of how I’ve ignored mine. Not to worry. I’ll figure it out.”

  I squeeze her arm and smile. “I have no doubt.”

  The torchlight from Dora’s staff keeps everyone in a tight fighting party. Patty’s pace has been increasing as we go, to the point that now he’s moving at a lope. Dillan and Sloan are w
ith him in the lead. Nikon and I are next, and Emmet and Dora are behind us.

  When the Fianna shield on my back tingles to life, I adjust the straps of my pack and reach out with my senses. “On your toes, everyone. Something wicked this way comes.”

  Dillan calls his daggers forward, Patty draws his hatchet, and I call Birga once again.

  “I need a druid weapon,” Emmet says. “I know the universe chose to give everyone else a physical offensive power, but if we get close enough, I’m going to drop a coin into the Prana Lake of Ultimate Power and make a wish.”

  Nikon shakes his head. “You need to steer clear of the waters in the cistern. It’s raw power, and it alters people. My papu wasn’t alone when he discovered The Source. Two other men from his cohort were there. He said they rushed forward, drank from it, then waded into its waters.”

  “Your grandfather didn’t?”

  “No, he dipped his finger into the lake water, and the moment he touched it, he felt the power start to work inside him. It’s ley line power in its purest form.”

  “What happened to the other two?” I ask.

  “He said they writhed and screamed and transformed into fae beasts right before his eyes. He was terrified.”

  I bet. “Okay, Emmet. That’s good enough for me. Steer clear of The Source.”

  Emmet frowns. “Says the girl with all the powers. How about I toss my coin from far enough back that it won’t splash me? No harm in that.”

  “You’re a dumbass,” Dillan says.

  “No. I’m a smartass.”

  I’m about to interrupt the convo and explain to Nikon that it’s impossible to herd a jumpy cat when the ground trembles beneath my feet. Slowing to a stop, I glance up and down the rocky passage. “Did you guys feel—”

  An eerie creak resonates through the corridor, and the passage floor is suddenly insubstantial. It’s as if I’ve gone too far out on a thinly frozen lake and it’s fissuring under my weight. Frozen in place, I hold my breath…

  The stone collapses, and I fall.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Fi!” Someone shouts behind me.

  My stomach plummets as I drop into the crevasse. Emmet dives. The grip that clamps on my arm is bruisingly tight. The bones in my wrist grind together as he grapples and clutches my hand. It’s pain with a purpose because it saves me from dropping into the abyss below.

  His hold is tenuous at best.

  Dillan vaults over my head in a somersault and dives for my other hand. “Someone reform the stone beneath her feet.”

  Sloan drops and plants his palms flat on the edge of the crumbled ledge. He casts enough spells near me that my senses recognize his magic signature.

  It’s strong and precise—like him.

  A moment later, my feet find purchase on solid stone and I rise out of the ground.

  Jell-O legs don’t hold me. I stumble forward, and Dillan pulls me to his chest. His heart races under my palm as I close my eyes. Emmet brings it in hard and crushes me from behind. I’m the creamy filling in the sibling Cumhaill Oreo.

  “They need a ‘watch your step’ sign there, eh sista?”

  I chuckle. I can always count on Emmet.

  I haul in an unsteady breath and squeeze them both again before reclaiming my independence. “Okay, s’all good. No harm done.”

  Nikon lets out an exasperated chuckle. “Yer a nut, Cumhaill. No harm done? You nearly plummeted to your death. You get caught in a witch’s trap and nearly bite it, and your first response to that is no harm done?”

  “Infuriating, isn’t it?” Sloan slides in for a hug and squishes the breath out of me. “She’s a ‘pint half full’ kind of girl when it comes to minimizing her peril.”

  I shrug. “Can’t a girl be optimistically cynical?”

  Sloan frowns. “Not usually, no.”

  “All right, enough about me. The show’s over.” I brush the crumbled debris off my palms and frown at the dim corridor. “How did a witch trap ignite under our noses without warning? Why did none of us pick up on that? My shield didn’t even let me know I was walking into a situation.”

  Dillan grabs his backpack and slings the straps over one shoulder. “Could the excessiveness of the magic filling the air cancel out our early warning systems?”

  Dora raises her torch and takes a closer look at the stone walls. “That’s more probable than the witches having the strength to silence all of our instincts to coming dangers.”

  “Is there a way to stop that and detect traps as we continue?” Emmet asks.

  “Maybe a divining rod?” I try to stifle my laugh and fail miserably.

  Emmet flips me the bird.

  “Sorry, bro. You getting dragged along on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride was one of the funniest moments of my life.”

  “Yeah, yuck it up, asshole. Poison ivy is no laughing matter. You try working a street beat with your junk on fire.”

  I wave away his annoyance and square off with the corridor. “Okay, speaking of working the beat, break time is over. Let’s getter done.”

  The seven of us meander through the warren of underground tunnels, and I wonder how many times the witches got lost before they found their way. Hopefully a lot. Then we won’t be too long behind them. Do they have someone in their coven that acts in the same capacity as Dillan does for ours?

  Dillan is our stealth fighter and with his hood up, our ranger. The knowledge that comes to him from wearing his cloak hood up is both astounding and vital.

  Without him and his strategic instincts, it would take us days to find the main chamber. That’s not a bad thing. The longer it takes the witch bitches to find the access point for the key, the better. Although, if the queen dragon has been ailing for weeks in real-time, they likely already found it.

  They just couldn’t access it without the key.

  “Shh…is that water?” Emmet stops and looks around as we arrive at the junction of several tunnels.

  We all stop, and the corridor goes quiet.

  “I don’t hear anything.” I check with the others.

  “No, he’s right.” Dora shifts her torch to light the mouth of one of the off-shoot branches of the tunnel. “I hear it.”

  I focus and close my eyes but get nothing back. “I’ll take your word for it. Does anyone else hear it?”

  Blank faces stare back at me. “Okay, so why can only Emmet and Dora hear it?”

  “I’d guess that maybe only Emmet and Dora are meant to hear it,” Dillan says.

  “Thank you, oh wise one, and what celestial message are you getting for our path now?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve got nothin’. Maybe we’re supposed to follow the call of the babbling brook. Maybe that’s why Emmet heard it. Destiny is calling, and it sounds like the flow of the mighty river of power.”

  “Hello? Where did Dillan go? Give a guy an enchanted cloak of concealment, and he starts waxing philosophical.”

  Dillan’s mouth lifts in a crooked grin, and he shrugs. “I’m an evolution in progress. Have you got a better answer?”

  I study the offshoot corridors and consider that. Searching them all will take too long. Splitting up is a bad idea. I still don’t hear anything, but I’ve got nothing else.

  “I guess this is literally a case of go with the flow. Lead on, you two.”

  Patty moves up to take the lead with Emmet. Between my brother hearing the call of the prana distributary and Patty being drawn like a magnet to the dragon claw dagger from his hoard of treasure, we delve deeper into the bowels of the Gobekli Tepe underground.

  We march on, each of us keeping to our thoughts for another fifteen minutes before Dillan breaks the silence. “How far do you figure?”

  “Not far now, lad,” Patty says. “In fact…” His hand comes up to stop our progress.

  I follow his pointed finger to a Wiccan disc secured to the rough stone wall. The size and thickness of a dartboard, the disc’s face depicts a three-part labyrinth design. I trace the fluid lines of the maze’s
branches. They pulse with a pink glow, and the ambient power they exude is incredible.

  Emmet pulls up short and frowns at the thing as if it might attack him. “What exactly are we looking at here?”

  “That’s Hecate’s Wheel,” Sloan says.

  Emmet frowns. “And for the noobs, can we get a CliffsNotes version of who that is and why it matters?”

  “Hecate is the goddess of magic, witchcraft, and crossroads.” Nikon steps forward to take a closer look. “In my days in Greece, she was named the chief goddess presiding over magic and spells. She’s also a total bitch.”

  “Sounds like the mighty witch goddess served the Greek sour grapes.” Dillan waggles his ebony brow. “Let’s file that away to circle back to at a later date.”

  Nikon grins. “Circle all you want. You’ll never get the story behind why I despise Hecate.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  “So, what’s with her dartboard?” Emmet asks.

  “Right?” I chuckle and hold up my fist for a bump. “That was my take on it too, bro. Nice one.”

  Dora leans in to examine it and frowns. “It’s a power disc. I’d wager there’s a ley line stream on the other side of this wall and this disc is draining and collecting its source power.”

  “So, this is what’s drainin’ my queen’s energy?”

  Dora frowns. “There has to be more than one to affect the dragon queen.”

  “Then we keep looking,” I say.

  “And now we know what we’re lookin’ for,” Sloan says.

  “Should we split up?” Emmet asks.

  “No!” Dora and I say together.

  “All righty then, the ladies have spoken.” Dillan gestures forward. “Lay on, MacDuff.”

  Emmet takes his bow, adjusts the strap of his backpack, and strides off again.

  As I pass the power disc, I stare at the swirling Barbie pink glow flowing like liquid energy through the pathways of Hecate’s Wheel. My shield flares hot and itchy against my back. Awesomesauce.

  I love it when it does that.

  Over the next five minutes, we come across three more witch discs but not much else. Dora wants to leave the discs in place until after we face off with the witches because we still don’t know where the lake of power is, and the element of surprise is our only advantage.