Witching Time

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “Is there anything about what can destroy an autumn wight?” I asked.

  “Not that I can see. But I’ll keep looking. Now that we’re pretty sure of what this thing is, I can dig deeper. Don’t try to go up against it, though. Not until we know more. Wights of any kind are dangerous, and these seem like a disaster in the making.”

  After I hung up, I turned back to Kipa. “All right, let’s go see if we can find Aida’s remains. If we do, maybe we can free her.”

  “Do you want to wait until morning?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Morning or night, it’s not going to make any difference to the autumn wight. It’s just as powerful in daylight as it is during the night.” I turned to Jordan and Llew. “You should go home. It’s not safe out here for you. Emrys? Can you and one of the other men escort them to their cars and make sure they get off the farm safely?”

  Emrys nodded. “Lord Kipa, do we have leave?”

  “Of course. Come back as soon as the men have driven away.”

  Emrys and one of the other guards took off, leading Jordan and Llew back toward the farm. I watched them go, then glanced at Kipa.

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking Emrys to do that before I asked you. I just have a feeling we need to keep those two off the farm for now. The wight can influence shifters, humans, and probably the Fae. I doubt if he can do much to me except try to kill me physically. I didn’t sense any attempt at mind control while he had me bound in his energy.”

  Kipa waved off my worries. “No, I didn’t mind. It occurs to me that we might find an altar to Reyas buried around here somewhere. If the Lanchesters worshipped him, then they probably had a temple for him on the farm.”

  “Could be,” I said as we stood and started moving forward again, Kipa’s other four guards flanking our sides. “You know, I’m dedicated to Arawn, the Lord of the Dead. Not once has he ever demanded I make any sort of blood sacrifice—except for my own—to him. What makes some of the gods demand murder to prove allegiance?”

  Kipa wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “That, I can’t answer. There are those, among the gods, who are as disturbed as the sociopaths and psychopaths among humans. God or human, Fae or Elf, Ante-Fae or shifter, there will be disturbed individuals in every group.”

  “I suppose so,” I said.

  “Honestly, any god demanding an unwilling sacrifice—be it person or animal—I find disturbing. I suppose if you’re going to eat the animal afterward, that’s one thing—as long as it’s humanely killed. But invoking terror for the sake of ego—it’s pathetic. Most of the gods tend to steer clear of our counterparts who are so inclined. If they go unhinged, we do what we can to control them, like Typhon. But…take Mars and Aries—the gods of war. They’re both off their rockers. Tir’s not nearly so rabid. The Norse are more stoic and less prone to vanity.”

  We continued along. By now my arrow of location had dissipated, but Kipa remembered where he had last seen it, and we’d go from there.

  We reached the slope past the pumpkin patch that led up to a mesa overlooking the farm, about twenty feet high.

  “That’s a good vantage point,” I said, nodding up at the top of the slope.

  “I suppose, but…there’s something odd about this hill.” Kipa looked around. He pointed to a large flat boulder. “That’s the last place I saw the arrow. It was pointing at the slope.”

  I frowned. Kipa and I headed for the steep hill. The mound was about thirty yards long, and extraordinarily symmetrical.

  “You’re right. Come on, walk around this with me,” I said.

  As we circled the mesa, it became obvious that it wasn’t a natural formation. Once we came full circle, I was gazing at the face of the hillock when the moon broke through the clouds and a beam shot down on the dirt face. All of a sudden, I saw a glint—something sparkling about seven feet up the cliff.

  “What’s that?” I pointed to the shimmer.

  Kipa frowned. “I don’t know, let me look.” He motioned for one of his men to boost him up. He examined the surface and a moment later there was a loud click.

  A doorway opened at the base of the hill.

  “I think we just found Aida,” I whispered.

  Chapter Twelve

  We moved into the chamber. Kipa went first, followed by two of the guards. I came after that, and behind me, the other guards. There was a silent hush as we entered the chamber. We were barely inside when light flooded the room.

  I blinked, jumping as the glare bombarded my eyes.

  Kipa drew his dagger and his men immediately went into battle stance, drawing their own blades as well. They fanned out so that I was in the center, protected on all sides. After a moment, Kipa grunted, “Stand down,” and the men relaxed into a guarded but casual stance.

  I drew a slow breath, peeking between the SuVahta.

  We appeared to be in an actual room, not a cavern. “I have a feeling they created the hill to cover this up,” I said.

  “I think you’re right. It seems that we’ve found the temple to Reyas,” Kipa said. He stepped aside so I could join him.

  The room was about twelve feet tall, which meant there was some eight feet of dirt overhead. I looked around the rest of the room. A statue against the back wall reminded me of a cross between Dionysus and a scarecrow. It was disconcerting, creepy even, and I tried to shake the feeling that it was watching us. A long, low bench rested in front of it, and on the bench were the remains of a massive pillar candle, a hand sickle with a bone hilt, what looked like an offering bowl, and flowers so dusty and dried that they looked like they’d disintegrate if I so much as touched them with the tip of my finger.

  “Altar table,” I whispered. “And yes, that has to be a statue of Reyas.”

  Kipa glanced around. “I don’t think we’re going to find any traps in here. They went to great lengths to hide this place. Be cautious, but go ahead and start looking around.”

  “How is this room lit?” I asked.

  Kipa frowned, heading over to a panel on the wall. He examined it. “Motion sensor, I think. When we entered, it triggered the sensor and the light came on. This is probably wired into one of the outbuildings through underground cables.”

  I began to search the room. There were cobwebs and spiderwebs everywhere, but as Kipa had said, it didn’t look like anything was boobytrapped. A bookcase sat against one side of the long, narrow room, and there were built-in counters, while a sink and a stove flanked another wall. The other end of the room contained a sofa, a rocking chair, a coffee table, and a rug. The room was probably forty feet long by ten feet wide and made me think of a trailer, though the walls were made of concrete. I examined the bookcase. The shelves were filled with books on magic and gardening, herbs and spell craft.

  “I wonder if this started out as a bunker—but then, back in the 1970s and 1980s, tensions between countries had defused a lot. Nope, I think they built this temple for Reyas but wanted it kept under wraps. I wonder why.” I paused, pulling out a copy of an alchemical journal that looked familiar. “Hmm, this book was banned by the magical guilds over twenty years ago. It deals with death magic, and given how much most of the guilds dislike necromancers, they consider it a dangerous volume. If you belong to some of the guilds, you’re not supposed to own it or use it.”

  “I’m pretty sure the reason they hid this temple is that, given the nature of the god and the fact that he can and does call for sacrifice, they probably didn’t want any flack from their neighbors.” Kipa frowned. “What would an earth witch be doing with a book on death magic?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know if Reyas dabbles in that or not. But I’m confused. I was sure we’d find Aida’s remains here, but I don’t see any sign of her body. Which puts us right back at square one.”

  “My lord,” one of the guards said. He was standing near the coffee table. “The floor sounds different over here.”

  “What?” Kipa crossed the room, frowning. “The floor is concrete. How can
it sound different?”

  “I don’t know, but it does. It sounds hollow.”

  Kipa motioned for the guard to help him and they moved the coffee table, then rolled back the rug. There, below where the table had rested, was a set of double doors flush against the floor. The handles were inset, handgrips carved into the wood. The guard gave Kipa a look, and Kipa nodded. He opened the trap doors. They slammed against the floor on either side, exposing a dark entrance into an underground chamber. Dust flew up, making everyone cough.

  “Shine a light down there,” Kipa said.

  The guard squatted on his heels, shining a flashlight into the opening. It looked like a typical basement, with boxes and trunks showing through the gloom.

  “Shall we go down?” I asked, pausing as something caught my eye. A mist was rising at the bottom of the stairs. I knew immediately what it was.

  “Aida.” We were close, I could feel it.

  I took the guard’s light and, shaking off Kipa’s warning, began to descend the staircase. I wasn’t afraid. There was nothing to be afraid of down here. The autumn wight couldn’t enter this space, at least not the basement—a sense of solitude and gentle magic filled the air. Aida’s spirit was awash with lilac and moonbeams, with silver and selenite and all things sacred to the Great Mother.

  I held my breath as I entered the small room. There were no other exits that I could see. A moment later I was standing at the bottom. The spirit slowly moved back, and now I could see the girl’s form in it. She was encased in the mist, wearing it like a shroud.

  I looked around the room. To the right was a table with a chair. Behind those sat what looked like a porta-potty. To the left was a cot with moth-eaten blankets and a pillow on it. And lying on the bed was the remains of a young woman.

  What was left of the skin had dried, paper thin and flaking. Hair was still attached to parts of the scalp that was left, flowing down her shoulders. She wore a dress that sagged over the bones. While her skull and most of her body looked bare, here and there I could see patches of dried skin stretched over parts of the bones.

  “I found her,” I called up the stairs. I made my way over to the skeleton, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. Whether she had been killed outright, or died here, I didn’t know. I couldn’t see any obvious damage, like a blow to the skull or dried blood. The bed was covered with corpse stains, but I had the feeling it was discoloration from her body as it had decayed.

  Kipa joined me, skirting past the spirit with a courteous nod. “Well, what should we do? Call the cops?”

  “I don’t know. Though if her mother killed her, maybe they can find her and bring her up on charges. Let me call Ember and Herne. They might have some advice.” I pulled out my phone, but reception sucked.

  “Go outside to make the call. Take two of the men with you to watch for the autumn wight.” Kipa rested his hand on my shoulder, gazing down at the body of the girl. “Sometimes I hate people.”

  “Sometimes I do too. Will you call Ember and Herne? I want to sit with her for a moment. Maybe I can move her spirit on, now that we’ve found her remains.” I gazed up at him. “Please?”

  “Of course, love. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He excused himself and jogged back up the stairs.

  I turned to the spirit, who was watching me. “I’m so sorry. We’ll make sure your body is properly put to rest, and until then, we’ll make sure you’re not alone. Is there anything you need for me to do? Anything you need to tell anybody?”

  Aida moved closer, staring at her body. There was a look of sorrow and yet, relief, in her eyes. She looked back at me and said something, but I could barely catch her voice.

  “Again, please?”

  This time, she moved so she was right next to my ear. The hairs on my neck stood up. I could barely hear her, but I listened closely and managed to catch what she was saying.

  Free my father, please. He’s stuck here, and he doesn’t want to be what he’s become.

  “He’s an autumn wight, isn’t he? Your mother sacrificed him to Reyas, didn’t she?”

  Aida nodded. I tried to warn him and she found out.

  I worried my lip. “Did she kill you? Or lock you down here so you starved?”

  Aida paused for a moment. She poisoned me and then hid me here so he wouldn’t find out what she did to me. Father didn’t follow Reyas.

  “What can I do to free you?” I didn’t say it, but I was relieved that she hadn’t been locked down here until she died. It was better to go quickly than starve to death.

  You’ve already done what I needed. I needed the truth to be revealed. I need someone to help my father. I couldn’t help him, so I needed to find help. And so many came through here and never heard me. My father scared them off, and they’d leave. He’s dangerous, so be cautious. He doesn’t mean to be, but that’s his nature now. Once he’s dead, he’ll remember who he was, and he’ll be able to leave.

  She leaned over her body. I wish I could have grown up. Maybe I’ll have the chance next time around. Thank you, again.

  I wished I could do more, but freeing her from being stuck here was probably the best gift I could give her. “I wish you could have grown up, too. You deserved to live your life. We’ll do whatever we can to help your father and we won’t leave your body here. But you go on now. Go on to your future. Be free.”

  With a smile as innocent as new snow, she raised her fingers to her lips and blew me a kiss, then slowly faded away.

  I stood there, watching the mist dissipate. Then, slowly, I leaned down and kissed Aida’s forehead, her skull cool against my lips. “Rest, young one. Rest.”

  Kipa and I waited for Herne to get there, along with Akron, a raven shifter who mostly cleaned up after crimes committed against Cryptos—especially ones we didn’t want the police involved in. Herne brought Ember along. One of Kipa’s guards had gone back to the entrance of the farm to lead them to the temple.

  I could hear them talking to Kipa as I sat by Aida’s corpse. Even though she had now moved on, I had promised we wouldn’t leave her alone again, and I wanted to carry through on that promise.

  A few minutes later, Kipa led the three of them down. Herne and Ember I knew, but I hadn’t met Akron before. I knew who he was—and we had crossed paths on cases before, but we hadn’t been formally introduced. Ember joined me while Kipa gave Herne and Akron the rundown on what had happened, and what we suspected.

  “She’s been here forty-some years,” I said, shaking my head. “Aida’s spirit told me that her mother poisoned her, so she wasn’t hidden away like a prisoner, but still…”

  “The statute of limitations doesn’t apply to murder,” Herne said, standing near Kipa.

  Akron approached and motioned for us to move out of the way.

  “Treat her gently, please,” I said.

  He nodded. “I respect the dead as much as you do, bone witch. Have no worries. I’ll treat Aida right, and Herne will let you know what happens with the body.”

  “Will we be able to lock up her mother?” I asked, wanting justice.

  “I doubt if we can find the evidence to convict her,” Herne said. “But there are ways around that. If we can find her, then we can figure out a way to deal with the woman. Meanwhile, Akron will search her and this bunker for evidence and then we’ll see that the girl is laid to rest.”

  “I want to be there—at her funeral.”

  Herne nodded. “I haven’t seen an altar to Reyas in decades. His followers are mostly agrarian earth witches, and there aren’t a whole lot of those left around.” He paused, then added, “That statue of him has a lot of energy. I’d destroy it unless you want him to remain focused on this patch of land. Because of his diminishing worshippers, I’m thinking he may turn his attention to his sacred spaces, and this would be one of them. Especially if there’s an autumn wight on the land who was originally a sacrifice.”

  “So there are natural autumn wights?” I asked.

  Ember nodded. “I’ve
heard of a few, but they’re rare. On the other hand, I never realized you could create one through sacrifice. It’s a grisly thought.”

  As the rest of Akron’s crew filed down into the room and began to prepare Aida’s body to be moved, the rest of us returned to the temple.

  Kipa went over to the statue of Reyas. “If Herne and I destroy this, we risk starting a war with Reyas, and neither one of us wants that. He’d feel the energy. But if a mortal destroys it, or nature, he won’t know about it, I think. Especially since it hasn’t been actively used in years.”

  “That’s a hint, isn’t it?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Are you going home after this? You aren’t going to poke around here anymore tonight, right?”

  “Yes, I mean no. I mean yes, I’m going home and no, I have no plans to do any more searching out here tonight.” I frowned. “You’re thinking my lightning bolt?” I had brought my wand with me.

  He nodded. “That would do wonders.”

  “Yeah, but it could also bring the walls down. Do you want Akron and his crew buried?”

  Ember snorted. “And Herne says you’re impulsive.”

  I frowned, turning to the Lord of the Hunt. “Dude, did you tell Ember that I’m impulsive?”

  He tried to suppress a grin but couldn’t. It slipped out and he laughed. “Guilty as charged, but you can’t tell me that you aren’t impulsive as hell.”

  “Well, no but…” I wanted to protest but he had me there. “Anyway, you don’t want me blowing this place up or we’ll all be buried. What about Kipa’s men? They’re not technically gods.”

  “True that. Well, I suppose it can’t hurt,” Kipa said, motioning for his guards to attack the statue. They struggled, carrying it outside and then wrestled it up the hill. From above, they pushed it over the side and the marble statue landed hard, breaking apart. One of the guards ran back to the barn and returned with a couple of sledgehammers. They set to, smashing the statue until it was a pile of rubble.