by Cheever, Sam
Blackthorne’s magic spiked, sparking around Ardith. She glared at him, touching his arm in warning.
Watching the mayhem he’d created, Joris laughed a bright, carefree laugh. “Humans are like livestock. So drearily stupid and so easily led. I can’t wait to have complete control over them.”
Dallie touched his waist with a small hand and turned. Bright-green eyes looked straight toward the shadows where Ardith and Blackthorne watched.
“Someone’s here. I smell their magic.”
Shit. Ardith jerked her head toward the young couple. Blackthorne touched her arm and they moved, quickly and silently, emerging from Blackthorne’s dislocational magic just behind Joris.
Dallie screamed as they appeared and Joris turned, already flinging witch fire toward them as he completed his spin.
Ardith flung her hand up and caught his fire, using a magical slingshot to throw it back at him. Joris leapt over the fire and landed behind Ardith. She spun to keep him in her sights. “Blackthorne, the girl!”
Dallie backed away, her glance sliding toward the door.
Without a word, Blackthorne popped away.
Joris’ talented fingers skimmed a new curse upon the air and agony swept Ardith. Her legs buckled, feeling as if they were being bent in half. She gritted her teeth against a scream, her fingers sending acid water in the form of mist toward the apprentice, quickly followed by a lasso of magic to catch his hands as the acid boiled over his skin, causing him to writhe and shriek in pain.
Ardith pulled the lasso tight and yanked him with it, sending him sprawling.
Panting from pain and the effort to subdue the apprentice, Ardith stood, turning to Blackthorne. “Let’s get him out of here before…” Ardith jerked backward, her feet leaving the ground, and flew twenty feet, slamming against the frame around the door to the balcony.
The damn apprentice could use mind magics. He didn’t need his hands to create enchantments—a skill unheard of in a witch at his level.
Another few inches and she’d have gone out the door. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. They were immobile, as if she’d been wrapped in chains. Ardith felt herself slipping sideways, toward the door opening, and tried to bend her body around the frame to keep from moving. But her body kept sliding.
A heartbeat later she slipped loose and flew through the door, heading for open air and a horrible death far below. Ardith hit the railing, her legs jammed between the uprights and her lower body jerked to a stop.
The apprentice’s magic yanked on her upper body, dragging it toward the roiling crowd below. The muscles in her legs throbbed, her bones creaking, as the power threatened to rip her in two.
Pain like no other slashed through her body. “Blackthorne!”
“Stop, apprentice. Or I’ll kill the girl.” Blackthorne’s deep voice throbbed with all the power of his centuries as a mage. She could feel the vibrations of it against her skin. There was a whoosh and a crash and Joris cried out. Ardith smelled Blackthorne’s unique magic on the air.
Ardith couldn’t see what was happening behind her, but Joris’ magic dropped away and her body was released. With the sudden loss of resistance, she overcorrected and nearly fell to her death, catching herself just in time. Ardith shoved herself backward and stood wobbling on her feet for a moment before returning inside.
Joris lay unconscious on the floor beneath a sizeable chunk of the ceiling. The edges of the debris were black and smoked from Blackthorne’s power.
“We have to hurry. Edwige will return any moment.”
Blackthorne nodded. “We need to leave her a message.”
Ardith glanced at Joris, an evil smile sliding across her face. “It will be my pleasure.”
CHAPTER TEN
Edwige entered her chambers on a light step, with a smile on her face. “Joris. Where are you, darling. We need to get going. I don’t want to be late for the executions.”
“Unfortunately, Joris won’t be able to make your play date today, evil bitch.”
Edwige jumped, swung around, and sent a large ball of witch fire in Ardith’s direction.
Ardith merely smiled as the fire pinged harmlessly off her protective web. “Sorry. I’m afraid that won’t work this time.”
Edwige frowned, clasped her hands at her waist, and gave Ardith a very cold smile that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes. “You’re too late, sister. I’m afraid your very sexy boyfriend will hang from the neck, no doubt kicking and writhing in pain, in just about an hour.” Edwige tsk, tsked with casual indifference. Running a chubby finger over a nearby table, Edwige grimaced at the fingertip as if a bad case of dusting were all she had to concern herself with at that moment.
Fortunately, Ardith knew differently. “I don’t think that’s going to happen…do you?” Ardith lifted her hand, showing Edwige the long, silky strands of blood-covered hair she’d “borrowed” from Joris. “If you don’t call off the dogs, your sexy little boyfriend will die. You have about five minutes to make up your mind.”
Edwige’s eyes turned even colder with rage. “Or what? I don’t believe you’ll kill him.”
Ardith held up her other hand. A shimmering ball of silvery light danced upon her palm. Within the ball was a real-time view of Blackthorne, holding a truly terrifying knife against the pale, slender column of Joris’ throat. “She doesn’t believe us, Blackthorne.”
The big mage nodded, and sliced a shallow cut through the tender flesh beneath his knife. Joris screamed like a girl, writhing against Blackthorne’s unyielding grip.
Edwige gave a little gasp before she could steel herself. “Don’t.”
Ardith closed her fingers, extinguishing the mini movie in her hand. “Here’s what you’re going to do, Edwige. You’re going to go to the humans and tell them you were mistaken. You’re going to tell them that the four people they’d intended to execute were unfairly accused. You’re going to demand their release. And then you’re going to give them at least a hundred of your zombies to exterminate. That should appease the bloodlust of the crowd in the streets below.”
Edwige focused her cold gaze on Ardith, her emotions carefully cloaked. The woman was a master manipulator and Ardith had no doubt she was trying to find a way around her promises, even as she realized she had to give Ardith something or her precious boy toy would be extinguished.
Finally Edwige nodded. “You win, mage. I will go to the human government and tell them that three of the prisoners have been falsely accused—”
“Three? That wasn’t—”
“The people are especially excited about seeing the hunter die,” Edwige interrupted. “If he is pardoned there will be riots. The government will never go for that. I cannot save him.”
“Then watch your apprentice die.”
“And you will have the deaths of all four of the prisoners on your conscience, knowing you could have saved three of them but for your selfish interests.”
Ardith paused. She knew Edwige was right. If she didn’t bargain with Edwige, she would have lost Draigh anyway and she’d have to live with the fact that she could have saved the other prisoners. Her fingers clenched at her sides. Rage consumed her. The damnable creature was using her scruples against her.
The one thing Edwige didn’t seem to possess.
Ardith clamped down on her rage and forced herself to ask the question Edwige was waiting for. “What will it take for you to get them all released?”
Edwige’s smile was like a knife to Ardith’s heart. “I want the humans of this time. I want to take the government and force the population to bow to me.”
Ardith’s eyes widened. “That’s impossible.”
“That is my bargain.” Edwige’s bright-blue gaze locked on Ardith, filled with smug satisfaction. Ardith knew she was stuck.
“I can’t let you torture and kill millions of humans. What kind of monster would that make me?”
Edwige shrugged. “That is between you and your conscience. I don’t really care. Besides, I
give you my word I will take control with minimal bloodletting and rule them fairly. I only wish to rule.”
Ardith didn’t believe her for a moment. “And what of the magical community in this time?”
“All are welcome to remain…”
Ardith was surprised at this concession.
“Except for the epoch mages. You are not welcome here.”
“That’s preposterous.”
“On that point I won’t be swayed. You may live in any other age, past or future, but not here, in this world. If you return I will begin killing humans until you leave.”
Ardith thought of the thousands of zombies waiting around the city to begin slaughtering the rioting human population and realized it was the best deal she was going to get.
“You have a deal.” The words burned her tongue like acid.
Edwige smiled. “Release my apprentice.”
“Not a chance. You will get the prisoners released first. Then I will give you your apprentice.”
Edwige opened her mouth to argue but Ardith cut her off.
“On that point, I won’t be swayed.”
Edwige nodded. “Very well. We’d better hurry.”
~AM~
Draigh stood on the platform, his hands bound behind him in mercury-laced cuffs. Despite his best efforts, his gaze had continually slipped across the crowd, searching the thousands of hostile, enraged faces for her.
Just one last look at her pretty face. That was his only wish. Surely Ardith wouldn’t let him go to his death without one last glance…a visual goodbye.
High above their heads, unmanned war drones and tracking aircraft dipped and danced upon the air currents, constantly watching for the next attack. It was the price First City had to pay for remaining above ground. As the sound of the circling aircraft died away, the incessant squawk of the raven took its place. Draigh had finally remembered where he’d seen the damn thing before. Edwige’s familiar had been circling the gallows since the moment Draigh and the other prisoners were lead outside.
Draigh ducked as a rock flew toward him, managing to avoid the worst of it. It hit his shoulder with a glancing blow, the pain a mere trifle compared to the pain swelling in his heart. He’d heard that morning that two more prisoners had been ensconced in Hotel Claustrophobia. Two more magical prisoners.
He was terrified one of them was Ardith. The fact that she hadn’t come to the execution seemed proof it was so. Draigh knew that thought was illogical. She could at that very moment be watching from the shadows somewhere.
But something told him his witch would never be content to watch him die from the shadows. She would more likely be standing at the front, either cheering them on or daring him to fight for his life. He smiled at the thought.
The crowd roared and Draigh turned. President Zith came out of the justice building that housed the prison to address the crowd. He stood on a balcony high above the street, his arms raised as the crowd cheered him. Even from where Draigh stood, far below the balcony, the president’s face looked soft and his gaze unfocused. He appeared dazed.
Apparently sensing the commencement of the executions, the rabid crowd surged closer to the gallows as the president started to speak. The platform under the prisoners’ feet wobbled dangerously as the crowd pressed forward.
When the human president began to speak, the crowd stilled. President Zith’s voice was a monotone buzz against the sudden quiet. “People of First City, we engaged on this journey in reaction to the horrific murder of thousands of our precious citizens. Their deaths shocked us into action. An action that was strategically designed to send a spear into the hearts of the creatures who would harm us. It was a hastily implemented plan. It had its flaws.”
The crowd began to stir as they sensed they weren’t going to like what came next. Murmuring rose all around the platform.
“Since that time we have been made aware of new information—”
The crowd rumbled with discontent. Shouts rang out.
“New information that clears the prisoners sentenced here today.”
The crowd roared, surging forward and flailing angrily. A large rock hit Draigh on the side of the head and his vision swam, blood running down his temple. The older witch standing next to him cried out from a similar attack. She staggered toward Draigh and he moved to cover her. “It will be okay. Just stay behind me.”
More rocks were flying. One particularly sharp stone hit Draigh in the back as he tried to cover the much smaller witch with his body. Rough hands grasped his shoulders and he jerked away.
An enormous, black hand clasped his shoulder. “Come with me. We’ll get you out of here.” Draigh’s head snapped around and an ebony face peered at him from under a rough hood. He nodded, inclining his head to the woman and the other two mages waiting with him. “Move toward the building. We have friends here.”
~AM~
Ardith pulled the cell door open and stepped back. It was one of the larger, darker cells, located way in the back of the prison block. The cells were lit only by lamps high on the slimy stone walls of the passageway and the air inside was even more stale than the other, smaller cells. The cells in the back were rarely used, saved only for the worst of the prisoners, which was why Ardith and Blackthorne had placed Joris there. “As promised, witch. There’s your little boy toy.”
Edwige swept inside, pulling a disheveled Joris into her arms. “Oh, my poor darling.” She stroked his filthy face and reached for the cuffs holding his slender wrists together. “Let’s get you out of here. We have much work to do.”
Joris threw Ardith a look. “What of this one? She and the large man who is colored like the night put me here.”
Edwige embraced him. “We’ll soon be free of her and all her kind, my love.”
Ardith glanced at the cell door, tempted beyond words. It wouldn’t hold the witch for long but it would be eminently satisfying. However, she had another plan that would be even more satisfying. And it would all depend on timing. “We need to go.”
Edwige slashed at the cuffs on Joris’ wrists and ankles with witch fire and they fell to the floor, clanging dully against the moist earth. The rogue slipped an arm through Joris’s and walked him toward the door.
The shadows in the corner of the cell shifted. “What about me?”
Dallie looked even worse than Joris. The fire of her bright-red hair had been extinguished under a thick layer of slime and mud and her green eyes were sunken. They were underscored by deep, purple circles. “You aren’t going to leave me here are you, Joris?”
Edwige whipped around. “Who is this creature?”
Joris turned toward the girl. “She is no one. I found her useful once but no longer.”
Ardith saw the hint of regret flare in the apprentice’s blue gaze as he said the words.
Edwige must have seen it too. Before Ardith realized what she had in mind, Edwige shot a deadly ball of witch fire into the girl’s chest.
Dallie’s pretty green eyes widened slightly, the lush mouth forming into a surprised O, and she crumpled slowly toward the ground.
Joris paled but said nothing.
“What the hell?” Ardith lifted a hand toward Edwige and the air thickened with magic.
Edwige lifted her hands. “Don’t even think about it, mage. Between us, Joris and I have more magic than you’ll ever have. We’ll kill you as easily as I killed that little strumpet.”
Ardith’s fists clenched at her sides, her teeth grinding together. She reminded herself of her end game, forcing her heartbeat to calm. “You two deserve each other.”
Edwige’s lips curved upward. “Why thank you, sister. That is the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
The two monsters left the cell and Ardith knelt beside Dallie. It was too late to help her, she was already dead. Ardith closed the girl’s eyelids and stood, determined to avenge her death. With that very satisfying thought she started after Edwige and Joris.
They climbed to the third level, walking
past dozens of soldiers as if they belonged. Ardith had wrapped them in a cloaking spell that made them appear to each person they passed as someone who belonged there but wasn’t important enough to speak to. She wondered how Edwige stood the anonymity of appearing as someone’s lowly clerk. Anonymity and lack of notoriety weren’t exactly her thing.
They entered the library and Ardith glanced toward the window. She could see the gallows from there, which was one of the reasons she’d chosen that room. The nooses remained empty and, in fact, the entire structure seemed in danger of being torn down as the rabid crowd surged around it, screaming in frustration.
Apparently President Zith’s address had done its job. With any luck, Blackthorne had whisked Draigh and the other prisoners away.
“Is the army in place?”
Joris turned a smug look on his mistress. “They are. They only await my orders.”
Edwige started to nod, then stopped, her shrewd gaze sliding to Joris. “Your orders. You forget yourself, apprentice.”
Joris just continued to smile.
Ardith listened carefully for the sound of footsteps on the marble floor beyond the room. Finally it came. And it sounded as if President Zith was bringing dozens of soldiers with him to the party. “It’s show time. You monsters should try to look harmless.”
Edwige snorted. “It is no effort at all to fool the humans, they are too stupid to even notice that we are their betters.”
The door slammed open and President Zith entered, his sharp gray gaze taking in the room’s inhabitants as a large contingent of soldiers filed in behind him, surrounding him protectively. Quickly assessing Ardith, he appeared to dismiss her as his intense gaze slid to Edwige. “It has been done. Is this the witch who ordered the zombies to kill our people?”
Ardith’s eyes widened and she took a step toward Edwige, intending to throttle the woman for her duplicity. She never got the chance. She heard the sound of a gun firing and a silvery web dropped over her before she could even lift her hands to stop it.
Looking upon Ardith in her helpless state, President Zith smiled. “We thank you for this weapon,” he told Edwige. “It will come in very handy in the future.”