She reached up to feel her throat, heart skipping a beat as she realized the witch hadn’t had the chance to kill her. That joy—that absolute glee—turned to terror as a large grey wolf broke through the coven’s ranks. It snarled towards the Hunters and then, to Aisling’s surprise, turned to gore the closest witch with its claws. Another witch stabbed at the wolf multiple times, while another beat at it with a heavy flail. A white faoladh appeared next to the grey wolf, tackling one of its attackers.
Time resumed its normal pace again as more of the wolves—faoladh and otherwise—appeared and the battle for Drakauragh began once more. Aisling didn’t know what was going on, but she knew that if they were to have any chance at winning this battle, now was the time to do it. But all of the other Hunters were still unconscious from the explosion, and Lisa…
She had to get up. She couldn’t give up. Her grandmother fought with every ounce of strength that she had, and so would Aisling.
She tried to push herself up against the wall with her legs and her one good arm, but even that arm—now with a gash in it—caused her pain, and the other one stopped her altogether. Where was her herb pouch, or even another table leg to use? There had to be something she could…
Aisling cried out with frustration, and something jolted through her that she had never felt before. She felt as though a strange, living and playful air was gathering around her, in her. Her broken arm bent of its own accord, setting itself, and shockwaves of pain caused her to tremble from head to foot. She felt something happening inside her arm, and as the warm, living air coursed down her shoulder and into that arm, it popped and crunched. She grit her teeth, nostrils flaring, as she felt the shattered bones in her forearm connect and mend. As she watched, the gash in her opposite arm closed itself, leaving only a trail of blood through a torn jacket sleeve.
She stood, not comprehending what had just happened at first. Raising her left hand, she flexed her arm and fingers. The muscles hurt and the bones felt bruised, but it was better than broken. Then she realized…it was her gift! She finally had found her gift! Aisling smiled, laughed a little, and then remembered where she was. There would be time for celebration later.
Her head hurt, and the next thing Aisling knew, the Blind Boy was in front of her. His inhuman eyes watched her seriously.
Hello again.
“How are you here?”
The Sagemistress is helping me exist outside of my woods. There is no time to explain why. I’ve come to help, but you are the only one conscious.
Aisling frowned in confusion, but pointed at Carman. “I’ll wake the others. I need you to stop her.”
The Blind Boy looked and recognized the presence of the witch who had diminished his power and invaded his woods. Aisling felt her headache increase and, without a word, his eyes blazing white, the Blind Boy rushed forward like a black tidal wave toward Carman.
As Carman cursed and turned to face the Blind Boy, Aisling ran around, looking for the others under debris. She found Nash first, lying in front of the door of the Old House, his face black and red with smoke and blood.
“Nash! Get up!”
He groaned, then his eyes flew open, ready and aware.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Just find the others and wake them up. But I need help with Lisa first. It’s bad.”
His eyes clouded over and he nodded, pushing himself up. It took a couple tries before he could actually stand. “Where is she?”
Aisling pulled him over to where she was, keeping a watchful eye for any witch. They all seemed occupied with wolves and faoladh, though, and Carman was still shrieking at the Blind Boy, shooting curses and spells at him as he dodged.
Nash looked around at the different factions of monsters, wondering what on earth had happened while he was asleep. And then he saw Lisa. No words came when Nash first found her. He gripped Aisling’s shoulder, and she felt him almost fall, grabbing his elbow to support him.
“It isn’t fair,” he said, although whether he was speaking to her or not Aisling couldn’t tell. “First Liev, now…”
“She isn’t dead yet, Nash. Help me with her.”
“There isn’t…there isn’t anything to do.”
Aisling slapped him, hard. Nash looked at her like she’d gone mad.
“A few minutes ago my arm was broken!” Aisling yelled, raising her left arm to his face. “It was useless. Then I healed it. It’s my gift, Nash. I healed my broken arm. I think…I think I can help Lisa.”
Nash looked at her with a strange expression—hopeful, fearful, and still anticipating Lisa’s death. “What do you need me to do, then?”
“Help me get that thing out of her. Then wake the others up. We’ve got a second chance to beat the coven.”
He nodded and they stepped forward together, gingerly.
“She’s still breathing,” said Aisling.
Nash grabbed the plank, and Aisling held her down. Lisa whimpered in her sleep as they slowly worked the splintered wood out of her stomach. Then her eyes flew open and she screamed. Aisling tried to quiet her, unsuccessfully. They worked that way until finally the wood came free.
“What else?” Nash asked, voice breaking. He wiped the back of his hand across his nose.
“Go get the others.”
“But—”
“I’ll take care of Lisa, Nash!” Aisling sighed, then said in a softer voice, “I’ll take care of her. If the others don’t wake up though, we’re all…we’re all in danger.”
Nash nodded and took off with purpose. Priest was sprawled in the dirt, and Chen over some random debris. Darcy lay half phased through a broken door. He went to them all one by one.
Aisling tried to focus, feel the magic in the air again, placing her hands over the bleeding hole in Lisa’s stomach. As the time stretched by, Lisa’s eyes started to close drearily.
“Stay awake!” Aisling shouted, and Lisa started.
“Am I awake?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, yes you are. And you have to stay that way. Don’t go to sleep on me.”
“Why? I’m so tired.”
“Because,” Aisling said, repeating the first things that came to mind. “Because Charlie’s waiting on you, and Liev. And Nash and Darcy, and Priest and Chen. We’re all here, waiting for you.”
Lisa laughed, which turned into a cough. “Cool.”
Aisling started to panic as Lisa’s wound showed no signs of healing. She felt the magic of the Otherworld coursing through Drakauragh, but couldn’t harness it, couldn’t feed it into her gift.
“You know, blondie,” whispered Lisa, “you aren’t so bad.”
And then her head fell back. Aisling felt a surge grip her, felt the warmth course through her and into her shoulders, down her arms. Her breath almost left her as Aisling felt the cold numbness from Lisa and, forcefully, she grabbed hold of something there inside and poured that warmth into the void. As she watched, human tissue began to recreate itself, closing the wound in Lisa’s stomach, and draining Aisling to the core.
It took minutes, and by the time the healing was done all of the Hunters stood around, watching. Aisling blinked, her eyes hardly able to see that Lisa’s injury was healed. A pair of hands caught her before she knew she was falling.
“Well done, lass,” said Priest as Chen dragged her back to the Old House. “Very well done.”
Lisa sat straight up, gulping for air, hand flying to her stomach.
“…horrible nightmare,” she muttered. “I was…I was....”
Her hand found the hole in her jacket, and a bloody but whole abdomen underneath. She looked around, disoriented, her eyes finally falling on Aisling.
“What happened?” Lisa asked.
Nash shook his head. “Worry about it later. Right now we have a job to finish.” He pointed at the street, which was a mass of cl
aws, tangled hair, flying magic, and blood and fire.
“Watch the rooftops!” Chen warned.
Witches were scrabbling up the walls, like spiders, on both sides of the street. A few were already up top, raising their hands with a zealous fervor. They began chanting and whispering and drawing strange signs into the air, magic gathering as their spells began to take shape.
And then a storm hailed down on the wolves and faoladh below, made up of fire and darkness and summoned spirits. The sounds of battle increased with howls and yelps as Lesser wolves began to falter under their Greaters.
“Do you have any more arrows?” Nash asked Darcy.
She shook her head. Lisa answered the same.
Nash looked back to the rooftops and wondered if he could narrow his aim; hit the witches without setting the buildings on fire. He decided to chance it.
“Get back a little,” he told the others, and they stepped out of his way. Taking aim at the rooftops on the left side of the street, Nash raised his foot and focused on the five witches on top. Biting the inside of his lip, he stomped.
The bolts came out wild. Three hit houses, several hit the ground, and five found their targets, sending the witches flying out of sight. Nash watched the houses a few moments, sighing gratefully when they didn’t catch fire.
“Nice work,” said Chen, clapping him on the shoulder. “But you aim like a flailing tiger. Let me get the other side, okay?”
Nash gave him a dour look and turned to face the coven as the Asian Hunter began to clamber up a wall.
“You guys ready?” he asked.
Darcy nodded, while Priest and Lisa just moved ahead, picking their fights.
Charlie watched, his spirits lifted as his friends went to work against the coven. Hecate stood silent next to him, radiating with anger.
“How disappointing,” she said calmly. “Witches have grown weak while I’ve been away. Abigail!”
“Yes, mistress?” asked the Curse Eater.
“Come over here. It is unfortunate, my child, but Carman has fallen through. You must be the sacrifice of blood.”
Charlie turned to look between them. The Curse Eater, who had been tending to a slowly waking and now full-wolf Liev, bowed her head and stood. She walked forward somberly, no panic or resistance in her sad eyes.
“You can’t,” Charlie whispered, though he didn’t mean to.
“I can do as I wish, boy,” Hecate said sharply.
“I wasn’t talking to you!” He looked at the Curse Eater. “You can’t give your life for this monster.”
She smiled sadly at him. “My life was given long before I was born. This is not something I wish to fight.”
Hecate turned from the window, raising a black ceremonial dagger. She raised the blade to the Curse Eater’s throat.
“You’ve done well, my little lass. With your death I release you from my service.”
“If your life isn’t your own…,” whispered Charlie. He limped forward, with no time to lose, grabbing two knives from under his jacket and stabbing at Hecate. “I’ll steal it back for you!”
But the Witch Goddess was no longer there. Her hooded cloak hung from Charlie’s knives, empty.
Two strong hands gripped Charlie from behind, spinning him around, and then a total of four arms held him up off of the ground, holding his arms by his side. He recoiled at the monster in front of him, kicking and wiggling to get free.
Hecate stood before him, holding him with her four arms as her three faces snarled at him, baring long fangs. A multitude of red snakes wrapped around her shoulders snapped at Charlie’s face.
“Do not interfere!” she screamed in three hideous voices.
Summoning every shred of mental strength he had left, Charlie used his Sight, overpowered once more by the blinding light it brought, as well as a terrible shadow within it. He shut his eyes and tried to gather the visions of everybody he could find. A rushing river of sensory input nearly bowled his consciousness over as the sights of the Hunters, the coven witches, and the wolves outside conglomerated in his mind. He sent it all to Hecate, just as he had done to the Dark Prince several weeks before.
The Witch Goddess’ grip tightened, and Charlie waited for her to drop him, making sure he still held his knives in hand. But then her terrible laughter filled his ears.
“That is a clever trick for a human boy.”
Charlie’s eyes flew open to find Hecate unmoved, amused almost. While two of her hands remained at his elbows, pinning his arms, her two other hands reached for his neck, fingers wrapping around and piercing the skin. Charlie inhaled before her grip began to tighten. Breath was the least of his concern as the blood began to pound in his head.
Charlie heard chains being moved around, dropped, and then there was a low, menacing growl. He tried to see what was causing it, but his eyesight was dimming, turning a dark red. In front of him, Charlie heard and felt the hissing of bestial serpents.
There was a loud thud and the sensation of the world being rocked, and Charlie fell to the ground, his legs jarring against the ground.
He drew in great gasps between choking coughs, eyes wide and searching for Hecate. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, and he had to wipe away the tears that had escaped, but finally he saw her struggling on the ground with a large white wolf. The snakes around her shoulders bit at Liev, but he pinned them down with great paws, tearing them apart with his claws. As four hands dug rivets down Liev’s back, the white wolf bent down and ripped out the witch’s neck. She faded into shadows underneath his paws. Her voice lingered a bit, chuckling, soft like the gliding scales of a snake, loud and deep as a rumbling giant’s heartbeat.
THERE ARE OTHER WAYS THAT I CAN RISE, CHARLIE SULLIVAN. I’VE WAITED MILLENNIA, I CAN WAIT A LITTLE LONGER. LIVE WELL UNTIL THE DAY THAT WE MEET AGAIN.
The wolf stood straight and looked at Charlie. They nodded at each other. Charlie looked around the inside of the Old House, feeling the strange magic in the air slowly dissipate as Hecate’s presence vanished.
“Thank you,” said the Curse Eater near the shackles on the floor. She had removed her mask and was rubbing VISVS from her forehead. “For standing up for me.”
Charlie looked at the plain woman underneath the guise of Curse Eater for a moment. Then he hooked his thumb towards Liev. “Thanks for letting him out. I would’ve been dead by now if you hadn’t.”
Liev the wolf growled in a strangely sarcastic, snarky manner. Charlie watched him carefully, wondering if Liev was actually awake behind those eyes.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “The others still need our help.”
Aisling managed to turn her head as the door of the Old House opened. She smiled as Charlie limped out, then frowned as the large white faoladh and masked woman walked out behind him.
“It didn’t work?” she rasped.
Charlie jumped a little, startled, then realized it was only Aisling. “Yes and no. It’s a long story. Are you alright?”
“Been better. I overdid it. We’ll swap stories later. The others need your help. And yours, too,” she said, eyeing Liev.
Charlie nodded and limped forward, picking up a chipped dagger that had fallen on the ground.
“Hey, Charlie?” Aisling called.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
He smiled at her, then turned back to the street. Liev leapt past him, charging into battle.
Charlie passed Darcy as she was thumbing her Ward Amulet. The device lit up and Darcy ran forward into a small crowd of witches, phasing through all of them. They turned to attack her, but her image flickered. Before they could turn around, the real Darcy—twirling the Ward Amulet in one hand—finished them off with her fencing blade.
“Thanks mom!” she said aloud, as the fake image of her disappeared.
“C
harlie!” cried Nash, butting heads with a witch. He punched another across the jaw, pausing to welcome and admonish his friend. “’Bout time you got here!”
Charlie sighed. “Sorry. There were some things I had to do. Thanks for taking care of them, Nash.”
Nash nodded and immediately ducked, encountering a new opponent to fight.
A witch fell from the sky in front of Charlie. He looked up and saw Chen on the roof of a house, fighting two other witches bare-handed. “Sorry!” the older Hunter called below without looking.
A flashing blade caught his attention. Charlie raised his dagger to deflect the blow, feeling every sore muscle and tendon in his body reverberate with it. The witch snarled at him and, without a second’s delay, he used his Sight to overwhelm her mind. She fell to the ground, clawing at her eyes.
And then he found what he was looking for.
Priest and Lisa were there with the Blind Boy. They formed a triangle around Carman and, while she had them on their toes, they had her trapped, not letting her have a moment to work any effectively deadly magic. Although he had to fight to hold off the images the Blind Boy constantly put off, Charlie joined them, turning the triangle into a square.
Priest nodded to him. “Glad you could join us.”
“Where have you been?” Lisa asked, tossing Charlie his spear. He flinched at her tone, wondering how he could tell her everything that had happened.
Instead, he focused on the problem at hand.
“It’s over!” Charlie told Carman, looking her in the eye.
The destructive witch scowled. How could she have been beaten? The Hunters had lost. She had tasted victory, gathered the blood of the girl who now stood there, mortal wounds impossibly healed. The Sagemistress’ cursed wolves and infuriating influence were undeniable, but even those elements had come to the battle too late. Hadn’t they? So what of the humans?
“Give up,” said Charlie, bringing her back to the moment.
Carman sneered at him. “I won’t.”
She began to chant a spell, shouting the words, fire and blood gathering in the palm of her hand. Before she could finish the spell, a white wolf jumped on her back, biting at her neck. Charlie and the others backed away, giving space to the wolf and witch as they thrashed around.
Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Witch Moon Page 24