The Last Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (29 page)

Emmeline whimpered as she
swept the remaining soldiers off their feet and forced them against the mountain, their bodies joining the others in death. She collapsed, her strength spent, her soul destroyed. She wept in earnest and pounded her fists on the ground. She was truly a monster now. A beast. A witch. Small clouds of dust stuck to her tears and blurred her vision. She blinked hard and pressed her forehead against the earth. She wanted to sink into the ground, never to return.

All that remained was the captain. He struggled to quiet his horse as the animal
squealed and threw its head, its feet prancing in a nervous dance. The captain’s eyes were wide, but he wasn’t running. At least one life would be spared.

Mahlon eased his horse next to Emmeline.
“I want you to pull that man off his horse and bring him to me, Emmeline.”

Emmeline pulled herself to her feet and swayed, her vision darkening
around the edges. Her entire body felt as if she was carrying a massive tree stump and yet she didn’t think she had the strength to lift a single branch.

“I need more heat,” she whispered as her hands rose to obey his command. Her arms shook.

“Just do it,” Mahlon said.

Emmeline pulled the captain off his horse and surprisingly, he did not struggle against her as she tugged him forward.

“You have betrayed your own people,” he said as he approached. His tone was more disbelieving than accusing.

Emmeline didn’t have the strength to respond.
She crumpled to her knees, her shoulders sagging. Her hair hung in her face, but she didn’t care enough to brush it away.

The captain’s voice turned sharp. “Are you controlling this girl?”

Emmeline looked up to see the captain’s gaze boring down on Mahlon. He looked once again at Emmeline and his expression turned sympathetic. Emmeline’s brows drew together. How could he feel any sympathy toward her? She had just killed his entire unit!

Mahlon straightened. “It is none of your business
what I do with her,” he said.

“You would
kill the last?” the captain asked.

Mahlon spat. “
Emmeline, hold his arms down.”

The captain’s lips curled back. “She has nothing left, you coward! Face me without her.” He tried to lift his sword bearing arm, but it would not budge
from against his side. His gaze shot to Emmeline as betrayal and understanding flashed behind his eyes.

Emmeline whimpered. “I’m
so sorry.” She had already obeyed Mahlon’s order. The captain would be helpless, unable to move his arms to defend himself. She closed her eyes as Mahlon snatched the captain’s sword. The twang of metal was muffled by flesh and the captain was silenced forever.

A hand
grasped Emmeline’s shoulder. She pulled back and hissed. “Don’t touch me!”

Mahlon
pulled his hand back as if she were a hissing snake. “This is for the best,” he said. “For Dolmerti.”

“
The best for you.” Emmeline said. “Not for Dolmerti. For you.”

The cloaked man picked up the torch Emmeline had unknowingly tossed aside and handed it to her.

Mahlon nodded. “Yes, take in some heat. You’ll feel better soon, and will think a little more rationally. I believe—”

Emmeline didn’t listen to the rest of what he
had to say. She grabbed the torch and consumed its heat, saturating herself in its power. The men watched with strange curiosity, their faces a mixture of wonderment and fear. She didn’t care. The strength the fire gave her was intoxicating. She pulled in the heat, filling her chest with more and more power. She drew in the heat with such force that the flame sputtered into a trail of smoke.

Mahlon was the first to gasp. “Stop, Emmeline! No more heat.”

Unwillingly, she stopped pulling in the heat, but she knew she had enough for what she needed. Emmeline twitched her finger and Mahlon’s mouth snapped closed. He couldn’t order her around now, at least until she released him.

Mahlon shook his fist
in the air. His face turned red and his eyes bulged out. Several soldiers drew their swords, their blades flashing in the moonlight, but no one took a step toward her. Even the cloaked man stood still.

Emmeline took a step back and
turned her palms in the air as if she were opening a door. The swords jerked free from the soldier’s hands and hurdled into trees, embedding into the rough bark as if they were nothing more than needles in a pin cushion. The hilts wobbled back and forth from the impact and the blades rang in protest, yet they hung fast to the wood.

One by one Emmeline dragged
, pushed, and tugged the soldiers with waves of heat until their backs were pressed against the trees. Only a few soldiers tried to run away, or come at her with fists held high, but a flash of heat pushed them to the ground and held them there until she could shove them against a trunk of their own.

With the
soldiers all pressed against trees, the impaled swords glinted near their faces, taunting them. Only a few dared lift their hands and try to pull a sword from the tree’s grasp, but Emmeline sent a rush of heat toward their arms. Her temper was to blame for the strength of heat she sent their way. More often than not, their arms snapped against the trunks and a chorus of resounding cracks and cries haunted the frigid air. She didn’t mean to hurt them; she only wanted to entrap them.

But they squirmed against the heat pressing
onto them, their eyes bugging out in terror and pain. Emmeline held her palms up and rotated her hands. A slow, steady flow of heat left her, bending the swords until the hilts curved around the soldier’s necks. They looked like prisoners pinned to the trees by shining collars. Emmeline let her hands drop. If the soldiers tried to move, the edge of their own blades would pierce their necks. It would take hours for them to bend the swords enough to free themselves.

She felt a bone-deep weariness, a complete burnout that could only be cured with months of rest
. Or another fire. Emmeline staggered back. It had taken more than she thought it would to incapacitate the soldiers. But she had more to do before she could be free.

With her arms hanging
at her side, Emmeline fluttered her fingers and sent all the horses but Filia scattering into the trees. She fell back a step and brought her hand to head. Something trickled from her nose and Emmeline reached up to wipe it, coming away with blood. Her mind swirled, her vision cutting in and out. She had already used too much and yet Mahlon and the cloaked man still remained.

Surprisingly, t
hey hadn’t moved an inch. Mahlon had to have known she would crush his skull if he tried to run, but what about the cloaked man? Why hadn’t he run away from her?

Emmeline
turned toward Mahlon first. She had hoped to save her greatest assault for him, but she had almost nothing left. She wondered how she was even standing at all. She glowered at Mahlon. Without his command, she couldn’t take in any more power. She was left with what insignificant strength remained.

A heavy weariness pressed over her.
She had somehow managed to direct enough heat to keep Mahlon’s mouth shut during her attack, but she feared she wouldn’t be able to keep it closed for much longer. She needed more time. She needed more strength. More power. If she collapsed now, Mahlon would take her. She wiped her nose again and blood covered her hand.

Emmeline
wiggled her bloodied fingers and Mahlon’s cloak twisted around his face, crowding into his mouth and effectively gagging him. That would have to do.

Mahlon
shouted, but his words were garbled and didn’t seem to have any influence over her. Emmeline’s shoulders fell in temporary relief.

She
turned to the cloak man, her power nearly spent, her strength slipping away from her every moment she remained standing. But she couldn’t leave without knowing. Raising her trembling hand, she brushed the cloak back.

Emmeline stumbled back, her hand
on her chest. “Weldon,” she whispered.

He met her gaze and opened his mouth to speak
, but Emmeline snapped his mouth shut, the last spark of her power drained from her. She didn’t care; she didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

“Traitor.” She spat at
his feet. And then she turned and stumbled toward Filia.

Filia tore through the trees bordering the road. Her hooves pounded into the soft soil, leaving gouges in the earth behind them. Emmeline fought to stay awake, guiding Filia in the direction she believed they must go.

Emmeline had studied
most of the maps in the library and knew the only road to Volarcus required a day’s journey through a narrow canyon in the mountains. Passing in and out of consciousness, Emmeline led Filia on obscure trails toward the canyon, and then to a stone ridge overlooking the pass.

The
sun had risen and the mouth of the canyon teemed with soldiers. Emmeline’s heart sunk. They weren’t Mahlon’s soldiers, but with flags bearing the King’s crest, she knew they were still Dolmerti’s own. Their voices traveled up to the ridge and haunted Emmeline’s ears. They were looking for her.

A long line of travelers waited to pass through the mouth of the canyon,
whether to leave Dolmerti or to enter it, she couldn’t say. Carriages were searched, people were questioned, all in hope of finding the lost princess.

Emmeline sunk into the saddle.
She couldn’t risk being discovered and sent back to the palace. Mahlon would no doubt return and she would be punished severely. Her only option was to find a place to hide for the night and continue her journey as soon as the mountain pass cleared.

Leading
Filia back the way they had come, she veered west to the one safe place she knew she wouldn’t be caught. Erick's waterfall. It wasn’t too far from the pass and she hoped she would be able to find it on her own. She could rest as long as she needed, regain her strength, and then go find her father.

As the sun journeyed through the sky, t
he air grew warm and then turned cool. She thought she was riding in the direction Erick had taken her, but her confidence wavered as time wore on. Just as she was about to turn Filia around, Emmeline spotted two sets of hoof prints in the earth several yards off to the right. They looked fresh, so without slowing, she led Filia toward the tracks and followed right on top of them.

T
he tracks led her through orchards and fields and to the very same clearing Erick had taken her. Emmeline let out a triumphant sigh of relief and jumped down, forgetting her weakened state. Her legs gave out and she tumbled to the ground. Her vision blackened and by the time she opened her eyes again the sun had traveled further across the sky.

Hauling
herself back up, she stood on wobbly legs. She wouldn’t give up. A little rest was all she needed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to take in any warmth from a fire, but she remembered Erick pulling dried fruit from the bundle behind the wood stack and she hoped it would be enough to help.

Emmeline
left Filia near a small patch of grass and spoke promises of returning soon. She turned in two full circles, trying to remember the direction Erick had taken through the brush, but everything looked the same—a mass of green. She closed her eyes, picturing the conversation they had just before he had reached out for her hand to lead her into the trees. Her eyes squeezed tight as her heart flared. She couldn’t stop the memories of the crooked smile he had sent her direction, or the twinkle in his eye. It hurt her to see him, but the memory served its purpose.

Somewhat
certain of the direction she needed to go, Emmeline took a deep breath and entered the jungle-like forest just as the sun prepared its final decent. Her pace quickened. She’d never find the waterfall in the dark.

Rushing
through the trees, the branches snagged her gown and pulled her hair. Vines seemed to reach out from every direction to catch her feet, sending her tumbling to the ground more times than she wanted to count. But she hurried on. She was on a race against time.

The sun dipped just
below the mountains and Emmeline pushed faster. She knew she wouldn’t survive a night in the middle of the forest. She would freeze! Her lungs burned and her legs threatened to give up.

With t
wilight upon her, she figured she had less than an hour before complete darkness set in. She shivered against the dropping temperatures, sure she had thrashed through the greenery much longer than she and Erick had. She should have made it to the pool long ago.

Panic engulfed her
as she grew more and more convinced she had gone the wrong way. She stopped to listen for rushing water, the gentle hum, the steady roar, anything. But only the quiet wind met her ears as it wove through the trees and quaking leaves.

It was
almost dark and the air had turned frigid. She changed her direction, hoping for better luck. A low rumble in her stomach alerted her to how hungry she was, and what a fool she’d been to not check her saddle bags before leaving. With raw determination, she wandered for another hour before the sun was swallowed by the mountain and she was thrown into complete darkness.