The Witch Queen

by Juliana Haygert

  “Let’s go,” Ebby said, sprinting toward the mansion.

  I went after her.

  The loud bangs and screams increased in volume and frequency the closer we got to the mansion. Flashes of light shone past the windows.

  “What’s going on?” Ebby whispered.

  I put my arm in front of her and slowed. “I don’t like this. Be careful.”

  She nodded.

  Side by side, we crept up to one of the many doors of the mansion. We spied inside. My breath caught.

  Witches ran down the hallway beyond the door, screams echoed through the walls, and magic flew without direction. But there weren’t only Silverblood witches. There were plenty of faces I had never seen before, which meant there was another coven here.

  We were under attack.

  “By all that is sacred,” Ebby muttered, her face white.

  No time to be scared. I channeled my magic and it answered, waking up from its slumber and filling my veins. “Let’s go.” I stepped into the mansion, and half a second later had to cast a shield to protect us from the incoming spells. My shield was weak and broke after a dozen or so spells bounced off it. I pulled Ebby to hide behind a column jutting out of the wall. “It seems some witches are throwing spells at random, hoping to hit the enemy. Be careful.”

  A witch from our coven flew past us and slammed into the wall on the other side of the hallway. She slumped to the floor.

  “I’ll help her,” Ebby said. Ducking the incoming magic, she rushed to the fallen witch and dragged her inside a room. If they were smart, they would hide inside, barricade the door, and pray this was over quick.

  I wanted to find out what was going on, what coven it was, and where they had come from. Had there been any warnings or signs?

  Fighting my way through the hallways, I rushed to the main hall.

  As I expected, Morda, Soraya, the inner circle, and a crap load of witchguards were all there.

  What I didn’t expect was to find Sarah, the Witch Queen of the Blackmarsh coven, standing in the middle of the room as if she owned the place.

  Quiet as a mouse, I slipped in and plastered myself along the drawn curtains of a window.

  “I heard some interesting rumors,” Queen Sarah said, apparently not one bit concerned that she was surrounded by over fifty witches. And she looked spectacular, to be honest. Her black dress was simple and elegant, with a tight bodice and slits in the front, revealing black leather pants underneath. Her long, silver hair was tied in a thick braid that fell down her back, to her knees. And a black crown of twisted thorns sat atop of her head. “Besides not having a witch queen, I’ve been hearing you lost the heart of the coven to vampires a while back, dear Princess Morda.”

  Morda didn’t seem affected. She clamped her hands in front of her and smiled at Queen Sarah. “Interesting rumors. But I’m glad to inform you I sent a witch to recover the heart.”

  “There are more rumors,” Queen Sarah continued. “That the witch you sent to recover the heart was caught by the vampires. She’s their blood slave now and can’t finish her mission.” The queen leaned forward and cupped a hand around her mouth as if she were going to tell a secret. “I also heard she enjoyed becoming a blood slave and has no intention of coming back. She has sided with the vampires now.”

  My stomach dropped.

  Where did she hear that? Her info wasn’t wrong, but it was incomplete.

  Worried, I watched Morda for her reaction.

  “Well, that’s where your rumors went wrong,” Morda said, smiling. “My witch was caught, but she already had the heart in her hands. She fought and won. The heart is safe now.”

  Queen Sarah tilted her head. “Is that so? I would like you to prove it.” She threw her hand, and black sparks flew from her palm straight to Morda.

  Even though she was much weaker than a queen, Princess Morda was no fool. She had been ready for the assault. The moment Queen Sarah moved, Morda moved too.

  But I stopped paying attention to their fight as Queen Sarah’s words sank in. The rumor … she had lied about it. She probably knew I had made it back with the heart. But since it had been taken once, it could be easily taken twice. She had been playing Morda, checking if we really had the coven’s heart back.

  Because she would steal it.

  My breath caught.

  I had to get to the heart. I had to protect it, to save it, before it was too late.

  I glanced at the fight going on in the middle of the room as I crept to the door. Even though she was one against dozens, Queen Sarah was kicking everyone’s butt. Only Morda seemed to be a challenge for her, but even then, I doubted our princess would be able to hold on much longer.

  I thought about stepping forward and helping, but what difference would that make? I wasn’t strong. I would only die faster. No, I had to get to the heart and keep it safe. Then maybe, just maybe, my coven would have a chance to survive.

  With everyone distracted with the fight, slipping out of the main hall wasn’t hard. I ran past fallen witches, from both the Silverblood and the Blackmarsh covens. My heart tugged with guilt. I wanted to stop and help my coven, but I couldn’t. Not now.

  Saving the heart was more important.

  I turned into the hallway leading to the tower and my steps faltered. At the end of the corridor, the witchguards who were supposed to be guarding the door were sprawled on the floor, and the thick door was open.

  Damn it.

  Despair pushed me and I ran into the tower. I glanced up the winding stairs. I couldn’t see the second door from here, but I could see three witches halfway to the top.

  Gritting my teeth, I started up the stairs and threw a blue flame at them. It bounced off the stone steps, as I thought it would, but at least I had gotten their attention.

  “Why you …?” the white-haired witch snarled. She threw a spell at me, but I dodged it by hiding under the stairs.

  I heard their footsteps, coming down the steps, and got ready.

  I jumped at them before they could jump at me, and threw a wave of magic at them. They stumbled, and two of them fell on the stones steps. The white-haired witch threw a spell at me, but I conjured a shield in front of myself. But then the other two witches were up and flinging their magic at me. My shield blinked and broke.

  I gasped a moment before three black bolts hit me in the chest and flung me back. I hit the stone wall hard, and the air rushed out of my lungs. They held me up with their magic, pushing me against the wall, crushing my body and soon my bones. The air kept failing me, and I knew if I didn’t break from this spell soon, I would die—either crushed to pieces or by suffocation.

  With her hand up, holding the spell in place, the white-haired witch stepped closer and smiled at me. “I heard about you. The young witch who went into the vampire coven for a suicide mission, but who made it back in one piece—and with the coven’s heart.” Her dark eyes ran the length of me, sizing me up. “Not so tough now, are you?”

  This bitch …

  A roar burst from my chest as I fought against their spell. Pain prickled every inch of my body, of my skin, but I fought against it. I felt like it was being ripped out of me, but I pushed through the pain and reached for her extended arm.

  “You talk too much,” I rasped, closing my hand around her wrist and pulling her closer. Meanwhile, with my other hand, I pulled Drake’s dagger from its strap around my hips.

  The witch’s eyes widened when I pierced the dagger deep into her gut.

  She stumbled forward and the magic holding me faded.

  The other two stared at me, too shocked to react. I didn’t hesitate. I swept my arm in a wide arc, and my magic rushed out in a powerful wave. The two witches flew backward, hit the wall, and continued rolling down the steps.

  I hurried up the rest of the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Hopefully, the witches would be unconscious for a while. If they weren’t, I would deal with them. Right now, I had to make sure the heart was okay.

/>   My heart failed when I reached the top and found the enchanted door pushed down on the floor and a witch standing on it.

  Lynne, Queen Sarah’s right hand.

  “If it isn’t Thea, the Silverblood hero,” she said, grinning at me. Her smile reminded me of Morda’s when she was plotting her wicked and evil plans, but for some reason, while I feared Morda, I was terrified of Lynne. The things I heard she could do … I shuddered. “I confess I was expecting it to be harder to get to your coven’s heart. I mean, you already lost it once. Why make it so easy to lose it twice?”

  In the back of my mind, I was shocked too. I thought Morda would have cast five hundred thousand ancient spells around the tower and placed another five hundred witchguards on the outside to make sure it was never stolen again. I wanted to blame it on the fact that we were attacked without warning or expectation. But even so, Morda should have been smarter about it. But that was a matter for another day. Right now, I had to think of a way I could survive Lynne and get to the heart before she did.

  “Who said it’s not a trap?” I lied, forcing my voice to remain firm, when in truth I was shaking on the inside.

  Lynne narrowed her eyes at me. “Let’s see how much of a hero you are.” She threw black sparks at me.

  I barely had time to move and hide behind the wall. The sparks exploded on the other side of the tower, singeing the stones black.

  As much as I liked the safety of the thick stone wall between us, Lynne was inside the room with the heart while I was out here.

  Closing my eyes, I channeled my magic. It answered fast and filled me up. Then, I stepped under the doorway and pushed my hands out, letting it all go. I screamed, not caring about how much it took from me, as long as I won.

  But Lynne was strong. While the other three witches would have flown across the room, Lynne only slid backward a few feet as she fought against my power.

  I kept my focus on the magic, on Lynne, but I accessed the room. Round and not as large as I thought it would be. Right in the middle, three stone steps rose to form a platform, and in the middle of the platform, a stone pedestal supported a round, silver marble basin. And inside the basin, I could see the heart, beating in a steady rhythm.

  The heart of the first witch of my coven. The powerful object that wielded our magic. The only thing, besides a witch queen, that could keep us alive and well.

  The heart had to be saved.

  With every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed more of my magic at Lynne. And she pushed against it.

  She was more powerful than I was, and she proved that when, still fighting against my magic, she conjured a black bolt and flung it at me—right at my chest.

  I took a step back and waved my arm down, sending my magic out to meet the bolt, which faded a second later. But in the process, I had let go of the magic holding Lynne, and she wasn’t the forgiving kind.

  She threw another bolt at me. And another. And another.

  I sidestepped, cut through a few more, and even ran out of the way of some more. After a minute or two, I realized what she was doing. Lynne was getting me tired, by dodging and running all around. The more tired I was, the harder it would be to fight back. After she was doing playing with me, I wouldn’t have any energy left to protect the heart.

  Needing a second to think, I knelt and conjured a thick shield in front of myself. The bolts increased in frequency, hitting my shield with loud booms and leaving tiny cracks behind.

  I didn’t know what to do. Thinking wouldn’t save me now, not when Lynne was so much stronger than I was. It was a miracle I had lasted this long already.

  But I wouldn’t go down without giving all of me.

  I let out a yell and channeled the magic from deep in my core. I let a big blue flame out toward Lynne.

  She conjured a shield half a second before it reached her. The flames broke through her shield and she stumbled back with the impact.

  She groaned. “You’re playing with my patience.”

  Lynne opened her arms wide and then closed them, her hands twisted into claws. Pure magic enveloped me, like a heavy blanket wrapped around me.

  I jerked against it as it crushed me and lifted me from the floor, but I could barely move my arms. Her eyes on me, Lynne took three deliberate steps toward the pedestal.

  No, no, no …

  Like I had done before, I fought against the magic’s hold and reached for the dagger at my hip. I would throw it at her, right at her heart. I didn’t have the best aim for that, but maybe if I used the rest of my magic to guide the dagger, I could do it. I could kill her from across the room.

  But Lynne saw the moment I pulled it out. She waved her hand at me, and my own twisted in an awkward way. I yelled as pain ran up my arm and the dagger fell to the ground.

  “I have to say,” Lynne said, taking another step toward the heart. “I’m impressed. I see now how you survived the vampire coven. You are resilient and stubborn. Good qualities in a witch. It’s a shame you belong to a rival coven.”

  She turned her back to me and reached for the heart.

  Something inside me snapped.

  I roared.

  The magic around me faded.

  I ran toward the heart.

  Lynne stared at me with wide eyes as I took the heart in my hand before she did.

  Power filled my veins and rushed like blood through me. I felt replenished. I felt strong. I felt invincible.

  I raised my free arm, palm out, and a bright blue light emanated from it, rushing out like ripples in the water.

  Lynne screamed.

  A moment later, there was nothing but a pile of dust on the stone floor.

  Heart hammering, I stared at it.

  Just like in the woods when Alex’s vampires had found me.

  I shifted my gaze to the beating heart in my hand. It was the heart. It was its power. I extended my hand, intent on dropping it in the basin again, but a thought stopped me. I could stay here and protect it, or I could take it down and use it to win this battle.

  A sliver of guilt and shame snaked inside my chest—after all, I shouldn’t be touching the heart—but I could feel guilty and shameful later. Right now, I had a coven to save.

  I hid the heart under the skirt of my gown and ran down the stairs.

  When I got back into the main hall, I paused.

  There were bodies on the floor—if they were dead or alive, I didn’t know—but Morda, Soraya, and a handful of witches from our coven still fought Queen Sarah, who didn’t seem tired at all.

  I moved toward the fight as Queen Sarah shot hundreds of black sparks toward Morda and the other witches. Soraya, who was actually bleeding from her shoulder, cast a shield in front of them. The sparks hit the shield like a round of bullets, and the shield broke.

  Queen Sarah cackled, probably sensing she was close to finishing this.

  Oh no, she wouldn’t.

  I jumped in front of Morda and faced the queen. “Not today,” I rasped.

  Like it had done twice now, the heart acted alone. Its power coursed through me, lifting my hands toward Queen Sarah, and its magic flew out my palms. It traveled in an arc toward the Queen.

  Her face paled and a thick shield rose in front of her.

  My magic broke through her shield, like it had ripped through paper, and exploded into her.

  Queen Sarah skidded back until she slumped into the wall across the room. She looked down at her arm. Red welts covered her once smooth skin.

  “You’ll pay for this,” she snarled.

  The magic flowed through me once more, and I was ready to hit her again. But, to my surprise, Queen Sarah ran.

  The Queen of the Blackmarsh ran.

  Crickets could be heard inside the main hall.

  I turned to Morda. “Are you okay?”

  She stared at me with wide eyes. I had never seen such unguarded expression from her before.

  Slowly, she approached me. “How … how did you do that?”

  I shr
ugged. “I don’t know,” I lied. “I feel stronger since having the heart back.” Or since using the heart. If she found out I touched the heart, that the heart was now in my pocket, she would kill me on the spot.

  She placed her hands on my shoulders. “I’m proud of you.” She squeezed hard then turned around and looked at the damage in the room. Now that the battle was over, I realized most of the bodies on the floor weren’t dead witches. They were simply too hurt to get up or fainted, but not dead.

  “Is it over?” Polina asked, crawling toward us.

  Vera appeared by her side and both of them got up. “I think so.”

  A scream came from outside.

  “Soraya!” Morda said, her voice in its usual commanding tone. “Take a few witchguards with you and check the rest of the mansion. Make sure all the Blackmarsh are either dead or gone.”

  “Yes, my Princess.” Soraya bowed her head, and then marched out of the main hall.

  Morda looked at me again, and I felt like hiding behind a wall. “What is it, my Princess?” Had she figured it out? By all that was sacred, if she figured it out …

  “We’ve won,” she said, her eyes darkening. “We have won this battle. We almost crushed the Blackmarsh coven, one of the most powerful witch covens out there. By all that was sacred, you were able to burn their Queen.” She nodded once. “Now is the time.”

  “For what, my Princess?”

  “To attack. We should attack the other covens now.”

  “But …” I had no idea what to say to her. That wasn’t part of the plan. Attack other witches? No, no. We had to attack the vampires, damn it.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” she said, looking around. “Now we have work to do. Clean up the mansion and heal the wounded. Go help out.” She waved me off.

  I lowered my head in a bow. “Yes, my Princess.”

  My breathing shallow, I walked out of the main hall, as if I was ready to help the other witches.

  I had already helped, more than I probably should have.

  My head spun with too many thoughts. I had so much to think about, to decide, but I couldn’t do it alone.

  Determined, I went back to the tower and pulled the heart from under my dress. Its beat sped up once it was in my hand. What was it? Why did I feel so drawn and close to the heart? Shaking my head, I rested the heart back in its place.