Bitter Night: A Horngate Witches Book

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “Rules are made to be broken. You do it all the time. So do me a favor. Think about it.”

  “How the fuck do you think I’m going to stop thinking about it?” she muttered, and his snort of laughter told her that he had heard.

  But forget she did. As soon as she pulled out onto the freeway, everything but Horngate faded from her mind. Her compulsion spells clenched down hard. She didn’t stop for food. She doubted she could eat.

  They came through Hellgate Canyon and got off the freeway at Reserve Street. It was like driving back into Julian. A heavy pall of smoke was in the air. Ash drifted lazily in the hot, still air. Max rolled her window down, nearly choking on the scent of Divine magic. She’d never smelled it so strong. With blind fingers, she checked her weapons, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. She chafed at the lights, barely resisting the urge to blow through them. Getting pulled over would delay them far more.

  At last she was out of Missoula and going south on Highway 93 heading toward Lolo. She turned west on Lolo Creek Road and roared through the narrow canyons as fast as she dared, the mountains rising steeply on either side. Trees clung to them like barnacles. The smoke was thicker here, and the smell of magic grew nauseating. Alexander gripped the overhead handle and braced his other hand on the console. He said nothing, even when they skidded around a turn, tires screeching.

  She stamped the brakes as they came up on the turn to Horngate. An arch of elk antlers curved over the wide entry with a sign dangling down beneath that said HORNGATE GREENHOUSES in letters shaped like leafy tree branches. They snaked up the picturesque road, the evergreen forest marching close on either side. The covenstead was still another ten miles in, just south of Deer Peak on Burdette Creek. Now she could no longer drive fast. The road was too narrow and winding, and the smoke and ash had become so thick that it felt like a scene out of a disaster novel. Still Max hurried as much as she was able.

  Her skin prickled with fear. The stench of magic had become so thick she could almost touch it. It coated the inside of her mouth and nose and filled her throat like tar. Her stomach lurched. She swallowed.

  “What is this?”

  “I do not know,” Alexander said. His voice was hushed and she could hear the tense apprehension in it.

  Fire bloomed along the ridge above them. It flared and swept across the dry timber with supernatural speed. Smoke billowed and leaped to the sky. Max bit down on her lower lip, tasting blood. Fucking angel. But it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t have a choice. He belonged to Hekau. If it was hard to say no to Giselle, Max could imagine what it was like to defy a Guardian.

  She drove through the steep folds of the mountains. They were less than a mile from the coven when she came around Deadman’s Spur and slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed and the truck slid sideways before coming to a jolting halt. She yanked open the door and vaulted out, staring in shock.

  Sweeping across the road was a curtain of opaque gray. It filled the gorge from side to side like a great overturned bowl, rising to cover the ridges that hemmed in the road. Behind it smoke and flames flickered from the serried ridges to the north, west, and south. The barrier shone with a faint pearly light. Jagged streaks of crimson and black flickered wildly across it. She could see nothing on the other side. Cold oozed through her gut. Horngate’s shields should be a transparent pearl white, and she should have been able to walk right through them. But something was wrong. She could feel a repellent malevolence pushing out at her. It felt ...hungry.

  Alexander caught her arm when she would have gone closer. “If you want to try to go through it, then send me,” he demanded softly.

  Max pulled out of his grasp and approached until she was just inches away from it. He went with her. The surface of the barrier rippled like silk in the wind, and something thicker and darker rolled beneath it. If it came down to it, she’d have to be the one to try crossing it, whatever Alexander wanted. He didn’t have the lock-spell to open doors for him. She might have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting through. He wouldn’t.

  She touched the lump in her pants pocket. She had the hailstone. It could give her passage. But then she’d have wasted it on something that she might have been able to do for herself. She needed to use it to help Horngate. If only she knew what to want. She took another step back. There was another way inside’if it hadn’t been sealed, too. The problem was it might be just as deadly.

  “Let’s go,” she said to Alexander as she spun around. She didn’t get five feet.

  “I think not.”

  Max whipped about, yanking her .45 out of her holster. “Alton’What the hell are you doing here?”

  The witch stood just at the edge of the road in the shadow of a tall cedar, smoke smudging the edges of his silhouette. He stepped out onto the pavement like he was a demon rising out of hell. Max’s stomach clenched and bile flooded the back of her tongue. In the last few days he’d grown younger still. He now looked to be in his early twenties. His skin glowed with a radiant health and his eyes were a luminescent green, as if he’d drunk radioactive waste.

  “Very good to see you, Max. I’ve been waiting for you,” he said in his sickly sweet baritone voice. He ran his hand over the top of the shield, and streamers of red knotted beneath his fingers. He smiled, a greedy, smug expression that made her want to punch him.

  “Waiting for me?” she said cautiously. “Why? How did you know I was coming?”

  “It was foreseen. I have been sent to collect you. And Giselle of course. If she survives.”

  “Survives?” Adrenaline surged through Max, and her compulsion spells jerked tight, cutting deeply into her soul. Despite the pain, she held herself tightly in check. She needed answers, and it seemed that Alton had a lot of them. Plus he’d clearly gone from a mediocre witch to a force worth worrying about. She couldn’t attack him head-on and win.

  “Oh, yes. Shall I tell you what is going on inside?” he asked eagerly. The idiot bastard wanted to gloat.

  “By all means. Tell me a bedtime story,” she said mockingly. “I’m all ears.” She shoved her gun back into her holster and crossed her arms expectantly.

  He stiffened at her mockery, shaking himself, his jaw jutting. Good. One thing that hadn’t changed was his ego and his need to tell everyone how important he was.

  “Do not underestimate me. I am far more powerful than you can imagine,” he said haughtily.

  Unfortunately Max believed him.

  He bent forward, his voice dropping. “If you must know, I tampered with the shield,” he said gleefully.

  “Tampered? How? What have you done?”

  He smiled pompously at her fear. “I’ve done many things. The Guardians are moving to reclaim the earth and bring back the magic. But they don’t wish to ruin the world by overdoing it. Some cataclysm will be necessary, of course. But they must be careful. In cleaning up the human mess, they don’t want to kill the land or the creatures that belong here.”

  He waggled a finger and made a tsking noise. Max barely refrained from rolling her eyes or telling him to hurry the fuck up and get to the point.

  “Setting off the Yellowstone volcano, for example, would cause a nuclear winter, and that can’t be allowed. Or melting all the glaciers’that would cause too much devastation. So they have called on witches to lead their armies of magical beings to wipe away the human plague.” He gave a little shrug as his smile momentarily disappeared. “It requires sacrifices, of course. But I have to serve when called, don’t I?”

  Max’s teeth clenched. “Do you? What sacrifices have you made?”

  “Old Home, for one,” he said and, there was not even a hint of sorrow in his face. “Sekti had to destroy it so that Giselle would scry before the Conclave. I would have hexed her. Then I would have been able to take you all so much more easily. But the bitch wouldn’t do it.” His lip curled. “She should have. She was my ally. She broke her promise. Now she’ll get everything she deserves.”

  Max bit her tongue, then
spoke through gritted teeth. “What exactly does she deserve?” And who the hell is Sekti? Another Guardian?

  “She deserves to see Horngate burned to ash. She deserves to crawl on her knees as my slave for the rest of her life.” His mouth hardened, his teeth baring in a snarl. “She will never refuse me again.” He fairly spat the words. “Right now, Hekau’s fire angels and one of Marduk’s angels of the sword are battling within these shields. No one can interfere. Not even you’I’ve made sure of that.” He stroked his hand over the shield. “Even if they want to, they can’t drop the shields. Not without me.” He smiled triumphantly. “I went to Giselle two days ago. I begged for her help, but she refused.” He scowled. “I knew she would. She will pay for that, too.” He shook himself and glared at Max. “While I was there, I set a special spell. When the coven invoked the shields, they stepped into my trap. Now they cannot release the shields until they are entirely depleted. And when the coven falls, I will be waiting.” He paused, then smiled slyly. “You don’t know it, but you and Giselle and Horngate’you are a valuable prize. They all want you very badly.”

  “Why?” Max’s voice echoed like a gunshot, her throat tight like someone was strangling her. “Who wants us?”

  A secretive look. “I shouldn’t say.”

  “Why not? What could it hurt? How could I possibly stop you?” Max wheedled. Her body was starting to shake as her compulsion spells pounded at her.

  “The Guardians do not agree about how to get rid of the humans, or who will take ascension in the new world. You and Giselle and Horngate’somehow you are at the center of a Junction’a fertile intersection of possibilities. Whoever controls you can control the outcome of those possibilities. So much is tied to you that no one can even see beyond the next hours. But while the others fight over which one of them gets to have you, I will claim you for Sekti. The angels will destroy each other, and then I will have Giselle and Horngate, too.” He straightened, raising his jaw and looking down his nose at Max, his face twisting in a mask of greed and pride. “Sekti has given me power beyond anything you can imagine. I can crush you with a thought. Now I want to see you on your knees, bitch. I am your master now and I want to see you grovel.”

  He stepped forward and raised his hands, green witchlight whipping around them like snakes. But before he could do whatever it was he had in mind, a blond Shadowblade slid out from the smoke and silence behind him and slammed his fist against Alton’s head. The witch dropped to the pavement with a wet, guttering sound.

  In the same instant, Max sprinted for cover on the other side of the road, yanking her gun out as she ran. Alexander was right behind her. She didn’t make four steps before more of Selange’s Shadowblades broke from cover. Eleven total, each with raised weapons aimed right at Max and Alexander. They were surrounded. She stopped, turning to look for the witch. How had she found Horngate? She must have flown or used both Sunspear and Shadowblade drivers to get here first.

  “Look, Alexander,” she said derisively. “More company. Don’t they know we have better things to do than entertain their sorry asses?”

  “Brave words,” Selange said, emerging from the shadowy cleft of a pile of boulders just beyond the circle of her Shadowblades. She was dressed in khaki pants and a sleeveless linen blouse. Her crimson mouth was an angry slash and her body was rigid with fury. Or fear. Max wasn’t sure. She had to have heard everything that Alton had said.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want the hailstone, and after hearing all that, it appears you might be valuable to me as well.”

  Max felt Alexander tense. He was standing with his back to hers, his gun trained on the Shadowblades behind.

  “What would you do with the hailstone? The Hag gave it to me, remember? Or have you decided to risk using it yourself? That might be fun to watch.”

  Desperation rippled over Selange’s face, then her expression settled into a mask of twisted fury. “That’s none of your business. I’m going to teach you a lesson or two about your place before I turn you over to Hekau.”

  “Better witches than you have tried to show me the light. I’m a slow learner.” Max was playing for time, but the fact was, there was no way out of this that didn’t end really badly. Magpie’s warning echoed through her mind again. No safety there, not for anyone. Not until you return. Only you can make it safe. Horngate needed her now. She changed tack.

  “Look. You aren’t stupid. You heard what’s going on. If you wanted to suck up to the Guardians, you wouldn’t be here looking for the hailstone. You want a way out. Which means you need to work with me.”

  Selange laughed. “You’re nothing. What can you do?”

  “Well, for one, I have the hailstone. And for two, there’s a couple of seers who think I might have something up my sleeve.” Max didn’t know if Magpie counted as a seer, but it sounded good. And Giselle had a touch of her mother’s power. For the sake of Horngate, Max hoped the two of them were right. “What have you got to lose?” A lot. If Selange went into Horngate to fight Hekau’s angel’and a second angel, if Alton had not lied’she would have a hard time explaining herself to Hekau if it didn’t work. This was a point of no return. Still, a flesh mage like her had more to lose if the Guardians wiped out humanity. She would go from being a powerful witch to being a doormat.

  The speed of Selange’s reply told Max all there was to know about how deep her fear of that possibility was. “What do you have in mind?”

  “There’s another way inside Horngate. With two witches, your Shadowblades, and the hailstone, we might have the strength to do something.”

  “That’s not much of a plan,” Selange said with a sneer.

  Max wholeheartedly agreed. “Got a better one?”

  Selange’s hands curled, the red fingernails like bloody claws. Clearly she wanted nothing more than to pound Max to a bloody pulp. Alexander, too. But she was stuck at the bottom of a big black hole, and the only possible way out was Max. “I have no choice.”

  “Not if you don’t want to lose your flesh magic.” But that didn’t make sense, Max realized. She went still, her mind racing. Selange couldn’t possibly hope to stop the Guardians from destroying humanity. That meant Selange wanted something else. The hailstone? Was it powerful enough to replace the power she would lose when humanity was destroyed? Or was she planning something else? She’d heard every word Alton had said about Max, Giselle, and Horngate being at the Junction of possibilities. What if she’d come for the hailstone but now had her eyes set on capturing that Junction and using them to bargain with Hekau? With both, she might be able to save her ass.

  The lead that settled into the pit of Max’s stomach told her she was right. But that was something to worry about later, after she’d figured out how to save Horngate.

  “Where is this other entrance?” Selange demanded.

  “Not far. But we’re going to have to climb.” Max didn’t wait for a reply or for Selange to call off her dogs. She holstered her .45 and opened the back door of the truck. Alexander stayed beside her, his back to the truck, his gun still raised as he kept an eye on his former comrades.

  “Do you know what you are doing?” he asked.

  “Nope. But we have to get inside. It’s this or try walking through that barrier. The odds are slightly better this way.”

  “You cannot trust Selange.”

  “Aren’t you quick with the obvious, Slick? I know I can’t trust her. But for now, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

  “And what if she is not the enemy of your enemy?”

  Max had no answer for that.

  BEFORE THEY STARTED OUT, THEY TIED ALTON UP, AND Selange wrapped a witch chain around him. It was the witch version of Kryptonite. That she had it handy in her van was telling, and Max promised herself again to keep a close eye on Selange inside Horngate.

  The entry was a mile-and-a-half hike northeast over the unforgiving terrain of the Lolo National Forest. The mountains heaped together like the folds of a rucked
blanket. The timber was dense, and the hog-backs were made more treacherous by deadfall and rusty stretches where pine-beetle infestations had destroyed the trees.

  Well used to the rough terrain, Max easily outpaced her companions, with the exception of Alexander, who clung determinedly to her trail. More than once he saved himself with sheer strength alone as he stumbled and slipped over the knife-sharp ridges and sheer valley walls. Max was repeatedly forced to wait for Selange and the rest of her Shadowblades. The witch was soon limping and breathless. Sweat dripped down her forehead and stained the neckline of her blouse. Her hands and arms were scraped, and there were bruises on her arms.

  They were a ridge away from Horngate’s back door, and Max’s compulsion spells were sawing her to pieces. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it was going to tear out of her chest. She couldn’t bear to stop moving. As a panting Selange caught up again, Max turned and bounded up the slope. Footsteps followed. She glanced over her shoulder. Alexander was ten feet behind her. The scruffy, long-haired blond in faded jeans and battered cowboy boots who’d clobbered Alton trailed after. She remembered him. He had been one of the ones in Julian who had captured her.

  Fifteen minutes later, she and her two shadows crested Sweetwater Ridge. The rimrock overlooked a verdant, glacier-carved cleft. A creek meandered through the meadow bottom, and aspens and birches marched beside it like silvery sentinels. On the opposite side of the valley, wild flames leaped from crown to crown of the massed evergreens. It caught and leaped again in the still air. Angelfire didn’t need wind.

  Smoke hung thick and the stench of the Uncanny and Divine was smothering. West of them, the magic gray-and-red-mottled barrier humped up between the mountains. Max crouched, leaning over the edge of her perch to look down.

  The path into the pocket valley was nothing more than a series of narrow ledges, jutting footholds, and a tracery of cracks for the fingers. The inaccessibility made it the perfect place to hide Horngate’s back door. The fire had not yet reached the entryway. When it did, it would be impossible to get through for hours at least, if not longer.