by Phil Stern
But she was to be disappointed. The forest began thinning quickly, with a small clearing vaguely visible over the next gentle rise. Stopping in her tracks, the sorceress heard the distinct muttering and cackling of crones dead ahead.
By now the invisibility spell had worn thin, and the local witches were unlikely to be fooled by such tricks anyway. Drawing her Coven Stick, Tiffany soon held a gleaming, sparking sword. Pushing forward, she confidently cleared the next rise to look down into the open glen beyond.
Two hags were sitting on the ground, facing one another, their broomsticks propped against a wooden rack nearby. Between them was Solia’s earth stone, still on its necklace. Irritably tapping the resplendent green rock, one of the crones was rewarded with the merest of magical flickers. Cackling triumphantly, both witches shook their gnarled fists up at Orly’s Bridge itself, now a mere child’s toy high, high above. Clearly, they felt their prize to be well worth the substantial loses suffered in the recent battle.
Well, Tiffany quickly disabused them of that notion. A powerful surge of earth fire to the first crone’s chest sent her burned body catapulting off into the underbrush. Taking a page from Marissa’s book, Tiffany then used a magical whip to snare the second hag even as she bolted for the trees. Dragging the crone back into the center of the clearing, Tiffany snatched the earth stone from her weathered fingers.
“Where did you get this?” Tiffany demanded, her whip smoothly flowing into a sword again, held a mere inch from the crone’s throat.
Giggling, the hag childishly shook her head. “Boo!”
Tiffany’s gaze narrowed, her Coven Stick surging powerfully. The entire blade now virtually ablaze, she shoved the flaming tip directly up against the crone’s skin.
Of course, to reach the skin she first had to puncture the filthy black rags, which promptly began smoldering. With the searing blade now pressed against the crone’s neck, unable to roll away within her tangled, burning clothing, the old woman screamed in agony.
Waiting a moment more, Tiffany then removed the blade. Gasping and crying, the hag tried to snuff out the burgeoning flames around her neck and face.
“Let’s try this again,” Tiffany seethed, holding up Solia’s necklace once more. “Where did you get this?”
“From the girl,” was the muffled, nearly inaudible reply. “With the yellow hair.”
“Where is the girl now?”
Blinking in confusion, the local witch tried to play dumb. “I’m not, uh, sure...”
Instantly, Tiffany flaming blade slashed down into her upper leg. Screaming, the crone held up her hands in supplication. “Please miss, we only...”
“Where is she!” Tiffany bellowed, reaching down to haul her captive partially off the ground. “Tell me!” The unwashed stench from the old woman was nearly overpowering.
Her head flopping back, the abused hag tried to focus on Tiffany’s face. “By the caves,” she finally whispered. “Behind you. In the woods.”
Throwing the disgusting crone back down, Tiffany stepped back and grabbed her own earth stone. It’s innate power instantly coalescing, a stab of green lightning shot down at the prostrate witch.
But instead of death, the old woman merely found herself encased in a stout lead cage. Amazed, she tried to sit up too quickly, hitting her head on the cage roof.
“Stay here!” Tiffany unnecessary ordered, turning about and jogging from the clearing. Despite her recent vow to kill any and all crones, slaying the helpless, wounded biddy in cold blood was a bit more than she could stomach.
However, Tiffany’s magnanimity was short-lived. A mere hundred feet into the woods, the young sorceress came across a scene as shocking as anything she could ever imagine.
A huge, steaming cauldron sat in yet another clearing before the open maw of a dark cave. Flaming wood was piled around the malignant pot, with magically-tinged steam wafting upward. Two more of the ubiquitous crones sat a safe distance to either side of the cauldron, hungrily rubbing their hands together. Before one of the hags sat a pile of modern clothing, including jeans, black boots, and a white shirt.
And suspended horizontally above the pot, wrapped in some type of huge leaf, was Solia. Twisting and writhing, her Coven-mate was literally being cooked alive.
Marshaling power she rarely tapped into, Tiffany used raw force to sweep the cauldron to one side, out from underneath Solia. Instantly, one of the crones was both doused and crushed by the heavy metal container, the boiling water inflicting hideous burns. Screaming, the trapped hag’s arms and legs twitched helplessly for a moment, and were then still.
The other crone jumped to her feet, magic wand in hand. But Tiffany was quicker. Before the hag could launch an attack, a powerful surge of earth fire sent the old woman hurtling back into the rocky exterior of the cave mouth. Hitting the stone with a terminal thud, she immediately slumped down to the ground, quite dead.
Kicking aside the burning logs, Tiffany wrapped a comforting magical aura around Solia. With quick sword sweeps she was soon cut down and carried off to one side, Tiffany then carefully placing the blonde sorceress on the ground.
Her face still racked in pain, Solia seemed only vaguely aware of what was going on. Using the Coven Stick as a hand knife, Tiffany sliced away the large leaf binding her like a cocoon. A moment later a hurriedly conjured canteen was being held up to Solia’s lips.
“Here. Drink,” Tiffany urged, stunned to see that her companion was completely naked. Outside of her exposed face, however, Solia’s skin didn’t seem too hot.
Taking a few large gulps, Solia turned her pained gaze up at Tiffany. “My earth stone,” she gasped. “They have it.”
“No, Solia. Here.” Pressing the stone and necklace into her Coven-mate’s hand, the brunette sorceress then stood and retreated a few steps.
The relief passing over Solia’s pretty face was indescribable. Catching her breath, tears streaking down each smooth cheek, the young magician pulled the necklace tightly up against her chest. Unable to hold back any longer, Solia then began sobbing uncontrollably, her great, racking cries emanating throughout the wild land.
Lord Gensrow had regularly tortured his captives, using foul magic to both ravish and otherwise abuse Tiffany’s sisters. After defeating the mad wizard and freeing her Coven-mates, Tiffany had tried to imagine what it had been like for them. Powerless, caged like animals in a dank dungeon, subject to Gensrow’s every whim...it was simply too horrible to contemplate.
But now this? Solia had been trussed up like a pig and nearly cooked alive. It was simply beyond comprehension. Running a hand back through her long, dark hair, Tiffany was at a complete loss.
“Solia, take all the time you need,” she finally said, deliberately looking off into the woods. “I’ll try to find your Coven Stick.”
“No, Tiffany. Stay.” Finally gaining hold of herself, Solia finally opened her eyes the merest crack. With wet, blonde hair sticking haphazardly to her face and shoulders, she seemed more like a candidate sorceress than an established warrior. “And I think my Stick is still up on the bridge.”
“Oh. Okay.” Walking over to the piled clothing, Tiffany gingerly inspected a dirty boot. I mean, would she even want to...
“Just burn that shit.” Still laying on her side, on top of her now opened cocoon, Solia partially sat up. “Look, um. Just give me a sec here, okay?”
“No problem,” Tiffany assured her, fully turning away. Idly scanning the area for more crones, she could hear Solia slowly rise to her feet behind her, followed by a burst of earth fire.
“Okay, Tiff. I’m decent again,” Solia finally said.
Taking a deep breath, Tiffany slowly spun about again. Once more Solia was dressed in crisp, standard sorceress fare. Even her hair and makeup had been magically done up again, just like it had been at the beginning of this mission.
However, the haggard, hesitant expression on her Coven-mate’s face belied her otherwise unblemished appearance. The body language was all wro
ng too, Solia’s hand worriedly grabbing her earth stone. Glancing about the clearing, the blonde sorceress almost fearfully spied her former clothes. An irritable flick of her finger instantly torched the old jeans, boots, and shirt, everything soon losing form entirely.
Clearly, Solia was functionally exhausted from her horrific brush with torture and death. Normally a sorceress would immediately return to Haven after such an experience, but they were a long, long way from any Boundary portals. Deep in hostile country, with their primary mission still to complete, Tiffany had no idea how to help her.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, walking over to her companion. “You must be burned.”
“No, not burned. I’d actually only been up there for a few minutes when you came along.” Gritting her teeth, Solia looked down at the ground. “I’m uncomfortable, and still a bit woozy, but I’ll live.”
“A few minutes? That’s a long time! By the stone, I would...”
“They put some magic in the cauldron so I wouldn’t cook too quickly,” she bitterly explained, red-rimmed eyes once more catching Tiffany’s own. “I’m lucky, I guess.”
“No, Solia, this is horrible.” Taking a deep breath, Tiffany actually took her hand. “I can’t tell you...”
“Listen, Tiff, there’s nothing to talk about.” Jerking away from her, Solia suddenly turned about, trying to gather herself. “And frankly, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody about this.”
“Oh.” Staring at her tense, trembling back, Tiffany paused. “I see.”
“Do you?” Looking back over her shoulder, Solia’s eyes now had the whirling green of an enraged sorceress. “They threw me from the bridge before I even knew what was happening! I managed to break my fall and land down here, but I took a nasty spill. Before I knew it they’d snatched my stone.”
“Of course. I understand.” Tiffany shrugged. “It could have happened to any of us.”
“Don’t patronize me!” she seethed. “And what the fuck were you doing up there? Your dithering around let them sneak up on us!”
“You’re right. I should have been quicker,” Tiffany acknowledged, once more transforming the Coven Stick down into a rod and placing it on her belt. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not!” Fully facing her companion, Solia’s hands balled into fists. “I’ve had enough unprofessional bullshit for one mission!”
Forcing herself not to react, Tiffany merely nodded. “Look, you’ve had a horrible experience. Let’s just...”
“I saw you and Marissa at the bike shop, signaling one another like fucking schoolgirls!” she raged. “What, you can’t stop carping about Barbara for one menlar? Do you really hate her that much?”
“I don’t hate anybody,” Tiffany carefully replied. “Look, Barbara and I have some pretty heavy history. You saw how she was riding me in Conclave...”
“Yeah, well maybe she has a reason!” Solia shot back. “Maybe you’re a little too full of yourself, and it shows in your fucking work!”
“Oh yeah?” Drawing herself up, Tiffany’s own breathing finally began to quicken. “Well, my fucking work just saved your ass.”
“Don’t turn this around! If you’d booted that crone out of the way, they couldn’t have swung behind me...”
“Hey, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Her own eyes now blazing green, Tiffany advanced to stand right before the other witch. “You were last in line, Solia. Your job was to watch our rear, no matter what I was doing!”
“You’re saying I didn’t do my job?”
“Well, they threw you off a bridge and attacked Barbara from behind! What do you think?”
“It all happened so fast...”
“Whatever. If you wish, we can have a formal mission debrief back in Haven.” Folding her arms, Tiffany just stared at the blonde sorceress. “That is, if any of us survive this clusterfuck.”
“You are so arrogant!” Drawing back, Solia angrily ground her teeth together. “If you’d been tail-end Charlie, the exact same thing would have happened!”
“I offered to take the rear, but then you were assigned there!” Tiffany snapped. “And you may think we act like schoolgirls, but Marissa and I cleared our sectors without help! By contrast, you got caught napping. That’s the truth, and you know it!”
“That’s bullshit! Tiffany, you have no idea...”
“Hey!” Reaching out, Tiffany grabbed the other girl’s arm. “Solia, it’s over! The crones are dead. You’re safe, and you have your earth stone again.”
“None of us are safe!” Jerking away again, Solia turned and stalked from the clearing, soon disappearing into the woods. “Not any more!”
Groaning, Tiffany looked up at Orly’s Bridge, an impossibly far distance high above. Wow. To think that she’d dropped all this way, fought more crones, then saved her Coven-mate in the nick of time. And all the thanks she got was...
Crones. There was still one trapped in the cage back in the previous clearing, which was exactly where Solia was headed. Rolling her eyes, Tiffany hurried after her fellow sorceress.
Passing through more trees and then breaching the first clearing yet again, Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks. Solia was standing by the cage, contemplating the slumped and now-dead hag, a gnarled hand still raised in silent supplication. Only now did the vengeful sorceress raise her gaze, coolly looking over at her Coven-mate.
“Feel better?” Tiffany softly asked, glancing down at the crone at then at Solia again. “Killing a helpless woman?”
“I only stopped her heart. She deserved much worse.” Walking towards her fellow sorceress, Solia stopped about ten feet away. “That was the one who came up with the idea of cooking me for dinner. I can tell you, she was quite pleased with her ingenuity.”
“I see.” Pausing, Tiffany glanced around. “Look, they’re all dead or gone now, and it’s a long hike up to the eastern continent. Are you ready to head out?”
“Of course.” Only now did Solia seem to relax a bit, brushing back long, blonde hair from her face. “And Tiffany, thank you for coming down here for me. I don’t mean to be ungrateful.”
“Sure,” she softly replied. “Anytime.”
Tersely nodding, Solia preceded her companion into the woods. With Tiffany bringing up the rear, the two of them now began the long trek across the river basin and up the arduous mountain beyond.
*****
Four exhausting hours later, utilizing every magical trick they knew, the two young women joined Marissa and Barbara at rally point Zebra, which lay a half-mile in from the eastern terminus of Orly’s Bridge. Their leader remained bruised and battered, but was otherwise unharmed from her battle with the two crones.
Luckily, Marissa had managed to collect all their bikes and equipment from the damaged span. Without further incident, they all mounted up and calmly hovered across the eastern mountain, then down to the Pyron villages in and amongst the lush coastal deltas.
There was no conversation, each enchantress lost in their own thoughts. For her part, Tiffany idly wondered if Valensa had indeed shown up at their Philadelphia apartment. And if she had, whether Blake had been able to handle things on his own.
Obviously, Tiffany had wanted to deal with her delusional, vengeful sister personally, but other matters had taken precedence. And while Blake was well-prepared and very capable, the variables were obviously endless. Exhausted from this never ending day of combat and travel, Tiffany tried not to ruminate on all the things that could possibly go wrong.
Just as dusk was falling, the four Haven sorceresses finally spied the outlying sentries for one of the main Pyron villages.
*****
The unusual relationship between the Coven and the Pyrons went back over two centuries.
Typically, the Haven sorceresses experienced a great deal of friction with shape-shifting species. After all, such societies possessed greater personal strength and far more interesting abilities than pure humans, leading to a general disdain for
their fully mundane cousins. This, in turn, typically resulted in all kinds of predatory activities, ranging from the mildly annoying to the downright wicked.
However, the Pyrons were different. As an aquatic species they drew most of their food and living space from the water, and thus didn’t compete with humans for land resources. Indeed, there was often regular trade between humans and Pyrons, each providing the other with foodstuffs more easily acquirable in their natural environment. So for once, the Coven and a dimension’s dominant inhabitants were on the same side.
Which isn’t to say that humans and Pyrons shared similar social structures. In fact, classic human institutions like marriage and family were completely antithetical to them. Like most aquatic societies, they thought almost exclusively in terms of the “pod” as a whole, while almost never forming permanent romantic attachments. Thus, everything was of the “one-night stand” variety, with a child’s father (if, indeed, such a direct relationship could even be determined) taking no interest in their individual spawn’s upbringing.
From a biological standpoint this made a great deal of sense. Pyron generations were very short, with individuals going from birth to full maturity in about ten years. So during their brief adolescence a Pyron’s mother merely kept a general eye on her offspring, while the males simply viewed them as just another member of the pod. This left everyone free to breed more young.
Of course, this laissez-faire attitude coincided perfectly with a young sorceress’s own inclinations. And while there was no spreading of magic in these types of encounters (since the Pyrons weren’t fully human, their children couldn’t inherit the “pure” magically ability of the Coven), there was certainly a fun time to be had by all.
Pyron society also allowed a Haven witch to relax in other ways as well. With no one claiming specific ownership of any mates or children, jealousy and domestic abuse were virtually unknown. This meant that a visiting sorceress had no need to step in and save anybody, which made for a nice change of pace.