The Were Witch Complete Series Omnibus
Page 114
She put a hand on his arm. “Okay. Thank you for the umpteenth time for all you’ve done for us.”
Turning to the crowd, Bailey announced, “Time to go.”
Fenris raised his arms, chanting, then made a motion like tearing open both doors of a wardrobe. A glowing gate appeared before him, wide enough for three men abreast, and gasps went around the square.
Bailey turned to Velasquez. “This’ll be you gentlemen’s first time off Planet Earth, won’t it?”
“Affirmative,” the agent responded and ran a finger under his collar. “Ought to be interesting. Let’s do it.”
Bailey went first, and over a hundred people from three species followed her.
They emerged onto a flat, swampy plain surrounded by hillocks covered with gnarled black trees, and slate-colored clouds filled a dark-indigo sky. Mist curled from the boggy ground. The area looked familiar, but Bailey didn’t know if she’d been here before since many places in the arcane realm were hard to distinguish from others.
Roland swept an arm before him as he stepped to the side. “Welcome to the Other! It’s the universe’s dumping ground for magical residue. Pretty cool, right?”
Something howled eerily in the distance.
Jacob blinked. “You guys have been spending all your time in here? I figured it was...nice, maybe. This is like a fucked-up version of Dagobah.”
The werewitch shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. Oh, if anyone sees any wraiths or mist demons, just say so, and we’ll blast the shit out of them. They don’t usually come around Roland or me anymore, though.”
Once everyone was through and had recovered from the initial disorientation, Bailey, Fenris, and Velasquez started choosing their setup for the battle to come. Everyone agreed that Bailey should wait on the plain, with her allies hidden in the dense, shadowy forests surrounding it.
“Shifters, off to that side,” the werewitch said and gestured. “Fenris, are you allowed to wrangle them before the battle starts?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “I can at least get everyone ready and work on building pack-consciousness prior to Aradia’s appearance.”
Bailey nodded. “Good. Casters, off to that side. Don’t be straight across from the Weres since we don’t want to catch each other in a crossfire. Roland and Dante, you guys will be in charge of your species there. Can you work on cloaking us? Except me, obviously.”
“Sure,” Dante commented. “It’ll take a minute, but we’ve got a ton of witches, so it ought to be a powerful enough illusion to fool a goddess. Hopefully.”
Roland added, “She’ll probably scan for your aura before she comes through, and if we can mask our auras, she might not check too hard before she shows up. No illusion is impervious, though, so we kinda have to pray she screws up.”
Bailey told them to do it, and hoped for the best.
Velasquez said, “I’ll take my men to the other side of the plain. Our weapons have plenty of range. We’ll position ourselves so we form a triangle around them, and will be unlikely to hit the other two forces as long as everyone sticks to their assigned sector.”
“Sounds good,” Bailey confirmed. “Take up your positions, then. We’ll be doing this soon. First, I need to talk to my damn teacher for a minute, and,” she sucked in a deep breath, “think. Meditate.”
As the agents, witches, and lycanthropes melted into their parts of the surrounding forest, Fenris remained by Bailey’s side.
He urged, “Remember everything that I have taught you. You will need all of it. But if any mortal being can do this, it’s you. You have my faith, Bailey. And when you’re ready, we will help you.”
They went over the protocol for both summoning and destroying the Order’s divine patron. Once it was fresh in Bailey’s mind, the wolf-god took his leave and disappeared into the woods to organize the Weres. The witches then wove their cloaking spell over all three of the auxiliary forces.
Bailey sat alone on the damp plain, mist and total silence around her. She breathed in and out, calming her mind while steeling her will and courage.
There is no other way to approach this, she told herself, than to go straight through the middle. And the time has come.
Although her friends and allies were all around, she realized she’d never felt more alone in her life.
Chapter Fourteen
The werewitch concentrated. As she’d done while conjuring her aura-clones, she focused on the manifestation of her power, condensing it into a projection of her image, consciousness, and personality, then sought the one she meant to draw out.
She imagined her astral body traveling through the veil between dimensions, across vast stretches of land and water, and descending upon Lyon, France, homing in on the greatest source of magical power in the region, if not all of Europe. One particular representative of the arcane stood out like a purplish-black flame amidst the gray void of the astral plane.
Aradia!
As her body reposed cross-legged on a boggy heath in the Other, Bailey saw a great stone hall before her, although it was indistinct, as if viewed through a churning tinted liquid or a video screen distorted by static.
Vaguely she made out a ring of women, all of them talented sorceresses, and above and behind them another figure that was humanoid but not mortal. It gave the impression of both a beautiful lady and dark figure of deep menace, and it roiled in tones of black and gold and burgundy-violet.
Bailey Nordin, the goddess addressed her. The voice was oddly calm and hushed but resonant with malignant potency.
Hey! the girl replied. ‘Sup? I heard you were looking for me. Must’ve been tough since I had to come find you.
Faint murmurings came from the Venatori elders, but the goddess ignored them. She gave the impression of sneering at the werewitch.
How dare you address me thus? Aradia snapped. Calling me up the way you’d summon a familiar and behaving like a spoiled child.
Bailey channeled all the contempt and mockery she was capable of into her response.
Kiss my ass. Or if you’re not up for that, turn around, bend over and show me yours, so I can either spank it or kick it—your choice. I dunno which you’d prefer, but you seem like the type of kinky little shit who’d be into getting paddled.
A thunderous ripple went through the astral murk. Bailey must have struck a nerve.
You will pay, the goddess raged, her voice seeming louder and less composed, for addressing me in front of my finest witches like that. You are not only a mortal but a lycanthrope, a beast that plays at being human. I will reduce you to far less than that. Slowly.
Okay, Bailey shot back. Come and get me. Here’s where I am.
She flashed an image of herself sitting alone in a small, desolate valley within the Other.
I killed all your Inquisitors, the werewitch continued, so you don’t have anything else to throw at me, do you? Might as well fuck off, then, unless you want to send more witches to die. That’s what deities do, isn’t it? Sacrifice mortals like worthless chess pawns? It’s what you’ve been doing all this time.
Bailey felt a wave of uncertainty go through the hall. The senior Venatori recognized that she had a point. Now Aradia was backed into a corner, risking the loyalty of the followers she’d cultivated.
I will come, the goddess stated with icy matter-of-factness, and deal with you myself.
The werewitch visualized her astral body making a Bruce-Lee-style come-on gesture, then spinning around and sticking out her ass.
Pucker up to plant a nice big kiss on it, and bring a damn ice pack for your own while you’re at it because I’m gonna shove my boot so far up the thing that your colon will be feeling my—
Bailey jerked in place, falling over onto the moist peaty ground and blinking as she trembled. It took a moment for her to orient herself. Aradia had ended the transmission by destroying the girl’s astral projection, cutting off communication.
She rose to her feet, inhaling and recharging her aura with res
idual magic from the Other.
“Must’ve worked,” she muttered. “I bet she isn’t wasting any time, either.”
Recalling that time passed differently in the Other, the girl realized that two hours’ preparation back on Earth might, in here, seem like two seconds.
And so it did.
The air about five hundred feet across the small plain ripped and an entire column of figures sprang out, fifty or more, filling the space before the portal. At their head was their divine patron.
Aradia in person gave off much the same impression Bailey had received during the arcane transmission, although the details were clearer—a tall woman of aristocratic beauty, with well-coiffed black hair, dressed in sable robes that curled and wafted about her as if she were underwater. Gold jewelry adorned her at every conceivable point, and her eyes flashed with darkly intense fire. She floated five or six feet above the ground.
Of the witches she’d brought with her, none were dressed in the black leather of Inquisitors. They all seemed to be regular troops.
All save four.
At the corners of the formation were figures unlike any Bailey had seen. They were completely concealed by strange outfits that looked like hooded robes made of leather scales reinforced with charcoal-hued armor. Glossy black masks covered their faces. Bailey suspected one of them was male, but the other three were clearly female. Each held a different weapon from disparate periods of history. There was no way to tell which were still living and which were technically dead. They were the Dreadknights, Aradia’s most fearsome servants.
Bailey cleared her throat. On a deep level, she was terrified, but it wasn’t her nature to let it show.
“What’s this shit?” she inquired. “I thought you were gonna come by yourself, not backed up by all your wussy little girlfriends.”
An unpleasant yet familiar voice rang out of the crowd as a witch whom Bailey recognized pushed her way to the front of the formation.
“Wussy? Hah!” Madame MacLachlan scoffed. “We’re not the ones who bring half a town to attack two women. Oh wait, that was your poof of a boyfriend. He must have mistaken you for a man. You’re hardly in the position to boast anyway. May I kill this little numpty myself, Mistress? It’ll be dead easy unless she’s got her friends hiding around somewhere, which is possible. Either way, we’ll be back home in no time.”
Aradia ignored her. “It is a waste of my time, Bailey,” she said, “to crush an insect such as you. I am merely here to oversee the inevitable. My daughters can deal with you with only cursory support from me.”
The werewitch shuddered inwardly. Aradia’s in-person voice was subtly horrible to the ear. It sounded like a person whispering from underwater into a megaphone that had been cranked up to unnatural volume.
“Oh, gosh,” Bailey retorted. “Well, then. Wish I’d brought some backup of my own.”
MacLachlan, who for all her obnoxiousness was not an idiot, recoiled as if slapped, but Aradia seemed to have difficulty with human sarcasm. The goddess grinned with hideous arrogance.
“Wait,” the girl added, “I did. Get her!”
The curtain of the illusion fell away, and the black woods around them came alive with dozens of swarming figures. Weres shifted into quadrupedal form and bounded out from behind Bailey’s right shoulder. Witches formed up behind her left, arms twisting with spells already being cast. Across the small valley, a man in a dark suit and glasses led his fatigue-wearing followers in firing blasts of magenta plasma at the Venatori’s flanks.
Bailey shielded and then fell back three steps, knowing she’d have to seize control of the situation soon. For the moment, it was in their interest to let total chaos engulf the plain.
Leather-clad sorceresses shrieked and cursed as they struggled to adjust their formation. They were disciplined enough that it took only a second or two, but that was enough time for a couple of them to take wounds and others to be knocked around in the confusion.
Plasma beams ricocheted off hastily-thrown-up shields and burned holes through giant black trees. A witch screamed as two wolves pulled her out from amidst her comrades to rip her to shreds. Another wolf yelped in pain as lightning struck him and flung him to the ground. The casters of the Pacific Northwest collaborated on strange spells to create even more disorder while also defending their allies.
Amidst the melee, Aradia drifted upward, back, and down toward the portal she’d opened. Bailey feared the goddess was going to retreat, but instead, she absorbed the portal into herself and dispersed its energy. She was forcing her underlings to fight to the death while waiting until the last possible moment to engage in divine intervention.
She feared the consequences of breaking the rules, Bailey grasped. But it seemed likely that Aradia would move to destroy her if it looked as though the Venatori would lose the battle.
The outcome was by no means certain.
Bailey hung back, saving her strength for her duel with the goddess but directing her followers as best she could and protecting them from attacks. “Neutralize that!” she ordered a cluster of witches. “You guys!” she shouted to a couple of Weres, “distract her!” In between issuing commands, she swatted magical attacks out of the air and bolstered her force’s morale with positive psionic messages.
Everything that had happened thus far had taken what would have been seconds in Earth-time. Bailey’s army had greater numbers and the advantage of surprise, but the Venatori rallied swiftly, and then the advantage shifted.
The Dreadknights, who had done nothing in the first moments of violence, moved in unison. All four swung their archaic weapons, and a ringing flash like the breaking of a thunderstorm split the air. Dozens of Weres and witches hurtled up and away from the Venatori, flung like toys by the detonation of pure kinetic-magical force.
Bailey’s eyes bulged. The Dreadknights had not been able to concentrate their power into killing blows, but the raw strength of their counterattack, not to mention their coordination, meant that the four of them alone might be a match for her entire group.
They needed to shift tactics and fast.
The werewitch sent out a telepathic message to her Weres, to whom she was the most strongly connected, commanding them to apply hit-and-run methods rather than direct force. They circled, moving more than they attacked, nipping and hamstringing, drawing attention or simply bowling Venatori troops aside when they saw an opening.
At the same time, she shouted for her witches to pin down the Order’s sorceresses while directly attacking the magical essence that powered the Dreadknights. This wasn’t enough to stop the four elites from attacking, but it disrupted their unity and meant they had less support from the regulars.
Velasquez, grasping what Bailey was trying to do, had his men move and fire, move and fire in alternating patterns in a continual suppressive barrage that vaporized a handful of the weaker Venatori and even did slight damage to one of the Dreadknights.
The quartet of deadly mage-warriors was far from defeated. With shocking abruptness, they carved through swathes of Bailey’s allies, conjuring hurricanes of fire, tidal waves of electrified acid, hailstorms of jagged steel, and earthquakes of ice and mist. Bailey tried to shield her people from the worst of it, but at least a dozen were struck down, and she knew at least half of them were dead.
Madame MacLachlan, cackling madly, uprooted a cluster of trees and deprived the Weres of their closest hiding places, then started tossing the huge trunks toward the wolves. Bailey shot down most of them with lightning and threw one tree back at the witch. She squealed in irritation and fell back behind her subordinates, vanishing from sight amidst the raging struggle.
The battle dragged on, neither side gaining the upper hand. Both forces saw their numbers dwindle and their strength sag, and both fought on with crazed desperation. The casualty rate had climbed to a quarter of both contingents.
This can’t go on, Bailey grated. Why won’t Aradia fight me? I can almost see an opening to get to her...
Then the girl locked eyes with the goddess. Her insides threatened to liquefy as a terrible fact made itself clear: Aradia could obliterate her in an instant. The deity was choosing not to, not yet, holding onto the hope that her servants could do the job for her and eliminate the possibility of retaliation from the rest of the divine realm.
It also appeared that Aradia was controlling the Dreadknights through brute force of will, which would explain the elite troops’ robotic unanimity.
Fuck. She’s smarter than I thought. I’ve got to engage her now. Without me directing the fight, our guys won’t have the coordination or morale I could give them, but if I don’t take out Aradia, we’re screwed anyway.
Bailey focused on the Dreadknight closest to her, who had positioned herself between the werewitch and the goddess. A two-handed iron mace was gripped in the gauntleted hands, and sudden slashes of the weapon sent brutal sonic shockwaves toward Aradia’s enemies.
Extending her hand out flat, Bailey summoned a plasma blade on the mace’s haft. It split asunder with a sound like a massive gong and the Dreadknight staggered back, stumbling out of the straight line she’d occupied between her mistress and her foe.
The way was open. Bailey reached out toward Aradia and prepared to finish the job—if the witch-goddess didn’t finish her first.
Chapter Fifteen
Fenris, Bailey beseeched, Father of all Weres. Please, please tell me you’re still here. Please tell me you knew what you were talking about. Please help me in any way you can. Fenris!
In the back of her mind, it struck her that she was praying. Fenris was, after all, her god.