The Accidental Witch (31 page)

I took the pills and finished my breakfast. Fred had vanished. I tried to retrace my steps back to the room where they had been keeping Nineveh. I was actually much more directionally oriented than I expected. Normally, I might get lost navigating my backyard, but I was able to find Nineveh’s keep.

Al was watching over her with a book and a pipe. He was alone. Nineveh was laying in fake sleep. I knew this because she was immediately in my head again. I ignored this presence and handed Al the bottle of alprazolam and a covered needle preloaded with medication.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Sedation,” I answered.

“The capacities of man never cease to amaze,” he whispered. “Within one pill lies the power to control the will of mankind. Science may one day render magic obsolete.”

“Do you need help giving it to her?” I asked ignoring his poetics.

“Do you know any restraining spells?” he asked with a hint of snobbery that was unmistakable. I was beneath him. His tone was unmistakable. It said how could I possibly help him.

“I don’t know any restraining spells,” I said with a grin. “But I know how to give a subcutaneous shot in a resistant patient. Do you know how to do that?”

The smile vanished from Al’s face and even beneath his fluffiness, I could smell hostility. These immortals didn’t like being questioned. He wouldn’t ask to be my teacher again.

“I’ll hold her,” he said. “You give her the shot. Will she still be able to testify?”

“She’ll be somewhat coherent. She won’t be writing epic poetry or anything and she may drool a bit, but she’ll be able to talk.”

Al held Nineveh down. She didn’t have much fight in her. Her face was bloody and it was clear that someone besides Morgause, had beaten her into submission. I would have left her alone if she had just gotten the hell out of my head, but I had to shut her up, so I gave her the shot. I waited for a moment or two. The thoughts faded quickly. She vanished from my mind as she lay on the floor. She seemed somewhat calmed. The look of anger faded and she just lay there.

“That’s amazing,” Al said. “I had her wrapped in eight binding spells and it could barely contain her. One little shot and she’s out like a light. Wonders never cease.”

“Magic isn’t everything,” I said. “In fact, I think it isn’t that much.”

Al looked at me and his face softened. “You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t get out much. Sometimes I forget how much the world has changed.”

“That’s a shame,” I said. “The world is a wonderful place.”

“You know,” he said. “Fred won’t stay with you. He never stays with anyone. He’ll break your heart.”

“What?”

“I’m not saying this because I want to train you or because I want your power, although I do. I’m saying this because you seem like a nice young woman and you should know that when Fred is done teaching you, he’ll move on to his next job. His work is his life. You should find a nice mortal man. Someone who can give you babies and a life.”

“I thought nice mortal men were fictitious, like unicorns and fairies.”

“Fairies and unicorns aren’t fictitious. Unicorns are extinct and fairies live mostly in Northern Europe.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You know, I just have to take it day-by-day with Fred. If he goes, he goes. But now, I love him and I’m his.”

“He’s a lucky man.”

“Not really. I’m kind of crazy and complicated.”

“All women are.”

I laughed. I checked my watch. It was getting late. The trial would be soon. I said my goodbyes to Al and left my mother’s side. I was nervous. I hated public speaking. I went back to my room and brushed my short hair and then I followed the flow of people back to the courtroom. There was a big crowd and I could tell that most of them were necromancers and oracles. It was strange. I had imagined The Guild to be run by spellcasters, but when I finally pushed into the room, I saw that the counsel consisted entirely of oracles.

I sat down in a chair in the back of the courtroom. The courtroom didn’t look much different than any other room in the castle. The ceilings were high and the floor was stone. There were stained glass windows depicting the saints. There were large columns decorated with brightly colored monsters. As I looked around, I realized this must have been the castle chapel. Everything in the room spoke of the Church. I settled into my uncomfortable wooden seat and waited for things to get started.

Diane walked in with her new boy toy and plopped down next to me. She gave me a giant toothy grin. She looked pleased as punch and I guess she should have been. Anyone that could find an attractive man, and actually nail him amongst the group of oddballs we were sitting with, deserved some kind of a medal.

“Hey,” Diane said.

“Hey,” I replied.

She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Did you know that The Guild was founded to protect oracles and necromancers from spellcasters?” she asked.

“Why would there be spellcasters as guild members if that were the case?” I asked.

“You should know better than anyone. You’ve been spending your nights with the dark knight of the warlocks. They joined The Guild to keep in the know. They joined The Guild to know what’s going on in the world of magic. Most spellcasters never join, but the few that do, have their own circle within The Guild.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Fred is the dark knight of warlocks? What does that even mean?”

“There are ten immortals. Fred is one of them. He’s a bit of a mystery. No one knows much about his life except that he was the chief exorcist for The Roman Catholic Church for almost a century. He still acts as The Guild’s exorcist, but he’s suspected of shady dealings.”

“Where are you getting this information? This sounds like gossip to me. You believe everything you hear?”

“I got it from Emilie. She’s the chief oracle. She wanted me to spy on Fred, you know, since I’m so close to you.”

“You’re a shitty spy. You shouldn’t tell the person you’re spying on that you’re a spy.”

“I said no. I would never spy on you. You’re the only friend I have. Us freaks have to stick together.” She smiled broadly.

“We are a little bit freakish, aren’t we?”

“Just a little,” Diane said with a wink. “Of course, in Dismal, we are the gods of freaks.”

“I think we might just be the tip of the freak iceberg here,” I answered.

Diane put a hand on my shoulder in that suddenly serious way she did right before she said something she felt was deeply important.

“You should be careful,” Diane said. “I like Fred. He’s been good to you, but he’s more than he seems.”

I nodded. “I’m no fool. I know that, Diane, but I’m just taking every day as it comes. Hey, why do oracles need spies? I thought you knew everything,” I said.

“Not really. I just like to say that. The water of time becomes murky when spellcasters are involved or when the outcome is unpredictable, which is more often than not. We can see possible futures not absolute futures. Time can change. You haven’t noticed I’ve missed my mark before?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to mention it,” I answered, giving her a wink.

One of the council members banged a gavel and the room became silent. Diane looked like she had more to say, but she sat back in her chair and looked at the front of the room like the rest of the witches in the room. The apprehension was tangible. It was as if the entire room collectively held their breaths. I know I held mine.

Nineveh was brought into the room. She was still bound by toe-and-thumb screws. She was on a board and she was still sedated. The board was placed on the ground and you could see the binding spells were inscribed on the board. The room was filled with whispers and comments. I could hear the woman behind me. She said that the mighty had fallen and her friend said that there would be no justice if Nineveh wasn’t executed on the spot. A necromancer to my right said that Nineveh looked terrible. Everyone leaned forward to get a better look at the bound leviathan.

I couldn’t help but feel a slight stab of regret. That was my mother bound to the board. That was the woman who had carried me in her womb and nursed me as a baby. That was the woman I had once dreamt of meeting. She had tried to sacrifice me to a giant toad demon to further her own ends, but I could almost forget that looking at her in the middle of such a ring of hatred. Almost.

The chief council member, whose name was Emilie, stood up. The court hushed.

“Nineveh de Lac,” she said. “You have been accused of crimes against humanity. You’ve been accused of summoning the demon Abaddon to drain your daughter of her power and in doing so sacrificed an entire town to gain power over the demon. How do you plea?”

“I don’t recognize the power of this court,” Nineveh croaked from her bindings. “You are all beneath me. I should be tried by my peers.”

“Your peers would burn you where you sit,” Emilie said. “Morgause, your mentor, requested that you be executed without trial. We are the voice of mercy here. How do you plea?”

“I am a goddess amongst fools here. I will not answer these charges. I am Nineveh of the Lake. I killed Merlin and laid waste to empires. I am a legend. You have no power over me.”

“Call the witness,” Emilie said.

A young oracle stood up. “Calling Phaedra Michaels,” she said.

Diane put her hand on my shoulder in an act of reassurance. I smiled at her and walked up to the front of the room. I was placed in the center of the court on a very uncomfortable old chair. I was afraid to put my entire weight on it. It felt like it might break. Nineveh looked up at me from her circle. She smiled at me and I drew back from her. She wasn’t in my head, but I could feel her. I could feel her strength.

I stood back up and the chair fell backwards. I could feel her energy radiating outwards. I looked out through the court. None of the others were there. Al was gone. Fred was gone. Even that asshole Crowley was missing. Morgause was gone. Something was wrong. Why didn’t all those damn oracles with all their stupid, useless visions know something was wrong?

I backed away from Nineveh, who was smiling at me with a grin that turned my blood to ice in my veins. The doors in the front of the court opened. The echo filled the courtroom. I turned around. Fred burst through the doors followed by Morgause.

“Phaedra run!” Fred bellowed.

It was too late. The words hadn’t even had time to register before Nineveh was lunging for me. The thumb-screws fell off and her bindings were revealed to be nothing but subterfuge. Nineveh’s power flowed through her body and into me. I could feel the ice cut through me. She was going to kill me. I knew it. My feet were frozen to the ground and the pain was overwhelming. I glared at the bitch who’d brought me nothing but agony. Without thought, I touched Abaddon’s symbol. I touched the symbol and whispered his loathed name. I whispered his name and I grabbed Nineveh.

Terror spread out over her face. She knew what I had done. She knew better than I did and I knew because she knew. I knew everything she knew. I looked down at my arms. The tattoos that branded her body were moving from her arms to mine. They were migrating like birds from her flesh to mine and as they traveled, they brought memories and thoughts that were as unwanted as her touch.

I closed my eyes. I could see my father. He was young and handsome. I had never seen him that way. He was holding me in his arms and weeping. He was fighting with Nineveh. He was protesting. He was protecting me. She had wanted to take my power then. He had run away. He had run away with me in the middle of the night and brought me back, back to his childhood home. He had called upon the powers of Heaven and Hell to protect me from Nineveh, who he had come to believe was the face of the Devil himself. I knew then that my father had loved me. He had loved me and tried to protect me, but he had feared me. He had seen me as a kind of Rosemary’s baby. He had tried to kill the Devil in me. He had tried to kill the parts of me that reminded him of her. He had buried us in the Church to shelter us from the darkness. I pitied him. I wish I could tell him I was sorry for all the hate. I wished I could thank him. It was too late.

More memories came. Images of other children and other lovers floated to the surface and faded. I saw Merlin himself in the fading light of her eye. I say him entombed in rock and cursing her name. I saw so many spellcasters stripped of their powers in her hellish union with Abaddon. That was Abaddon’s strength. He could move the power from one spellcaster to another. That was his gift. That was my gift. I saw all these things as I watched the strength fade from Nineveh’s eyes. Finally, I saw Fred. I saw Fred light the fire to burn her. I saw him hunt her. I saw him as relentless as night. He came at her from all sides, but she defeated the fire and Fred released her. I saw Fred again. I saw her kill his wife. I saw her kill the wife he had left the priesthood for. I saw her kill his children. She had cooked them into a pie. I shuddered. She’d fed them to him. I wanted it to stop. Stop. Stop. I couldn’t watch anymore. I wanted her out of my mind. She was loathsome, vile, the evil witch from a fairy tale that fed on children.

I lifted my hands from her and she fell. She was naked, stripped of her power. She lay helpless at my feet. She was a shriveled crone. She couldn’t hurt anyone anymore, but I didn’t care. The visions lingered in my mind. They burned my heart and I wept. I sobbed. The tears were like fire in my eyes. The rage came with the tears. She was the Devil. She was the witch with the gingerbread house that lured children to their deaths, so she could cast darker spells. I grabbed the chair behind me and smashed her skull. If my mother was the Devil, what did that make me? No wonder my father hated me. I hit her over and over again until there was nothing left.

Fred pulled me back. He pulled me away from the squirming corpse. He pulled me away from the woman who had become nothing but a bloodstain on the stone. The room was quiet except for the sound of my sobbing. Fred held me so tight, I didn’t think I could breathe. He pushed his mouth to my ear.

“It’s over,” he whispered. “She can’t hurt you anymore.”

I turned and wrapped my arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. I wanted to burn the images from my brain. I wanted to take a scalpel and cut them out. Wasn’t there some pill I could take to make me forget? I knew too well that there wasn’t. How many rape victims had asked me for such a pill? How many veterans? How many child abuse survivors? The memories were mine now and I would have to live with them. I would have to adapt or die.