The Witch's Eye (31 page)

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Authors: Steven Montano,Barry Currey

BOOK: The Witch's Eye
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“Go!”
he yelled.

Cross kicked into Musad
’s sides, and the mount took off with surprising speed.  He’d forgotten how fast a camel could run.

Witch was the last of them to
flee.  She swept the area behind them with churning clouds of blood fire. 

She
’s a mage?  How in the hell is that possible?

Only humans could yield magic. 

And yet Shiv called her Witch right from the start.  Like she knew. 

They rode.  Cross didn
’t look back, but followed the other Lith as they tore across the hills.  Rogue led them through undergrowth and into the shadows of leaning stones. Cerulean mists masked their path.

T
he explosions in the distance dulled and faded, and after a time the air went quiet.  Cross slowed Musad.  His hands gripped the reins so tight they’d gone white.  Blood seeped from a wound on the side of his face, and his back was twisted with tension.  Flint was barely holding on behind him, and Shiv sat tightly between them on the saddle. 

“It
’s okay,” Cross said.  “We’re okay…”

“No,” she whispered.  “No we
’re not.”  She looked up.  “
I
did that.”

“You did what?”

“I don’t know how,” she said.  “I don’t know…”

“Shi
v?” Flint asked.  “What’s wrong?”

“Shiv,” Cross said.  “Look at me.”  She did.  Her eyes were filled with fear.  “Tell me…what did you do?”

“Witch,” Shiv said.  She was trembling all over.  “I gave Witch magic.”

 

They rode for another hour.  They’d miraculously avoided the Ebon Cities phantoms, and somehow they didn’t come across any more patrols.  Clouds of steam and smoke hung over the deeper Loch, and Cross saw distant fliers and skin dirigibles, vile undead vehicles that dropped incendiaries and acid blasts onto enemy shores.

The sky was pale and silver.  The
y rode over crags and petrified lava rock.  Deep water flowed into clefts in the stone. 

There were eight of them left
– Cross, Flint, Shiv, and the five Lith that Shiv called Witch, Bull, Dozer, Rogue and Grail.  They moved in and out of cover provided by tall dark stones on the beach.  The ridge to the west steepened, and soon they traveled along what was essentially the base of a short cliff.  The level ground at the top led west, back into Ebon Cities territory. 

The
beach consisted of fine dark sand and pools of cold mud.  Crabs and shellfish pushed up from tide pools and slid out from under slick stones.  Broken sea-shells lay tangled in foul-smelling seaweed and kelp.  The waters crashed against small islands made of coral and rock.  Cross smelled dead fish and salt mist.  The odor of vehicle fuel hung heavy, the by-product of the war vehicles populating the bustling battleground of the Loch. 

Cross
wondered if they were being followed by any more ghostly spotters, which the vampire artillery used as targeting points for bombardments.  Those phantoms were almost impossible to detect.  When Cross had been a warlock his spirit had been very adept at scouting enemy ghosts and arcane disturbances.  Even his second spirit, murderous bitch though she’d turned out to be, had kept him aware and in tune with movements in the spirit world.  Soulrazor/Avenger, for all of its deadly power and healing capabilities, could never replace that, nor what he missed the most: the presence of another, cleaved to his skin and bonded to his soul.  Not a day went by that didn’t miss her.

Grail,
Rogue and Bull moved ahead of the others, while Witch and Dozer stayed close to the humans.  Dozer, like Cross, watched for trouble from behind.

“Cross,” Flint said after a time.

Cross guessed it was just past noon, but it was hard to tell since the sun was hidden behind the twisted clouds.  Dark mountains loomed to the west, and jagged islands blocked view of the Loch to the east.  Dozens of uncharted isles waited in the sea.

“Yeah?”

“What happened?”

Shiv
rode on Musad’s back.  The camel trailed behind them, its tether in Cross’s hand.  He saw with some relief that she’d fallen asleep.  Both he and Flint walked in the camel’s shadow.

“I
’m not sure,” he said.  “She said she gave Witch magic.”

“Yeah…I heard.”  Flint
’s voice was unsteady.  “How is that possible?”

“I don
’t know,” Cross said again.  “I’d tell you if I did, Flint, but…”

Flint took hold of
Cross’s arm and spun him around.  His eyes were full of fear, and his body was tensed up like a man ready to do violence.  His bald pate was covered with sweat and grime.

“Cross.  How. Is that. Possible?”
Witch and Dozer looked at them but kept moving.  “You know
something
.  I know you do.”

Cross remembered his mother.  The memory was vague and distant, from when he was barely old enough to understand what was happening to him
…but he remembered her fear, her despair.  He remembered her face, the face of a woman whose relief at learning her son was going to live had been mutilated by the knowledge of what he
was
.  He’d always wondered if some part of her hadn’t wished he’d died that day rather than live on as a warlock.

He saw that same face now.

“You know as much as I do, Flint…even though you don’t want to admit it.”  Cross took a breath.  “Your daughter is a witch.  Not a variety of witch I’ve ever seen before,” he added quickly, though he wasn’t sure how that was supposed to make things better.  “Look…it’ll be okay.  She just…”

Flint punched him hard in the face.  Cross reeled back, nose and jaw stinging
, and fell to the ground.  He tasted blood.

“How
will it be okay?” Flint yelled.  “It’s not okay!  She can’t be a witch, you understand?  Now I want you to tell me what’s going on!”

Cross stood up slowly.

“Flint…I’m sorry.  She’s a witch.”  He wiped blood off his lip, and looked at the ground.  He didn’t want to see that face of fear.  “That’s all I know.”

“No,” Flint said, and he shook his head.  Tears welled in his eyes.  “
It can’t…”  He stumbled back, and bumped into Musad. 

Shiv was awake.  She looked down at him, and nimbly came down off the camel
’s back.

Flint sat down hard on the ground.  His chest heaved with sobs, but he tried his best to keep the sound of his grief in check. 

“She can’t…she can’t be…”

“I
’m sorry, Dad,” Shiv said.  She stood right over Flint, and as he looked up she leaned down and hugged him tight.  “I’m sorry.”  She was trying not to cry.  “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…”


It’s…okay, baby,” Flint said.  Flint took her in his arms.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Witch and Dozer
looked on.  Witch bowed her head.  Cross wondered if they could understand, if the gravity of what had just happened was clear to them.

It has to be
, he thought. 
No one wants to learn their child is a weapon…a freak.  No matter what race they are. 
He looked at Witch, and she returned his gaze.  Her milky eyes were penetrating and cold. 
Only humans can use magic
, Cross thought.  He knew the Lith were telepathic, but only between each other.  Still – rules had already been broken.  For all he knew, she could read his every thought. 

Only humans can use magic.  How did Shiv do that?

He thought about what that could mean, the ramifications of a mage who could grant magic to others, and the notion of it terrified him.

If the Ebon Cities gets their hands on you…

Witch kept watching him.  Somehow, he thought she knew exactly what he was thinking.

 

They moved on.  After another hour they found a way to get onto the Loch. 

A
black steel vessel was moored to a makeshift dock made of crumbling driftwood.  Skulls were mounted on the dark pylons, and a short wooden building on the verge of collapse stood just off the shore.  The ship was a small motor-driven ship with a simple canvas top and a wide interior large enough to fit a half-dozen people and a good deal of cargo, perfect for the pirates unloading their goods onto shore.

Cross had seen their like before.  The
men were human, but they held no loyalty to the Southern Claws.  They made their living moving illegal goods across the Loch and selling them to the vampires at an inordinate cost.  Southern Claw weapons and armor were highly valued by the Ebon Cities war labs, as were drugs, thaumaturgic equipment, and human slaves.  The five men dressed in a mismatch of purloined armor and dirty clothing, and they carried all manner of assorted weaponry. 

The
smugglers moved with organized precision.  Cross guessed they didn’t deal with the vampires face-to-face – likely they dropped off their goods and picked up their payment here at this secret dock, happy to turn a profit and unconcerned that by doing so they were turning their backs on their own humanity. 

He, Flint, Shiv, Witch and Dozer hid behind a low
hill to the south.  Sharp wind from the east lashed them with an icy chill. 

“What
’s going on?” Shiv asked, but Flint motioned her to hush.

Cross tugged on Witch
’s arm, but she shook her head no.  He looked back at the dock.

Grail, Rogue and Bull mo
ved with alarming silence.  The Lith emerged from behind the shack and killed two men with iron arrows before the pirates even knew they were under attack.  The bodies fell into the water. 

Rogue
flew forward and skewered another pirate with a handful of knives.  The last two smugglers went for their weapons – one drew an MP4, while the other moved for a massive flamethrower mounted on the boat.  The first man got an ineffective burst off before an arrow took him in the throat.  The second just reached the flamethrower when Bull skewered him through the back with a barbed javelin.

The
Lith stepped onto the pier.  Wood creaked and shifted beneath their weight.  They moved around crates of sealed alcohol, medical supplies and ammunition – the vampire’s payment for whatever the men had delivered.

Cross looked at the shack

“Cross?” Flint asked.

“Get your daughter aboard,” Cross said.  “I’m going to take a look.”

Cross walked past Rogue and Grail.  He felt their eyes on him.

The shack was dingy and dark.  His breath frosted as he stepped inside.  The floor was frozen.  Cross stood in the doorway and waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom.  Bits of loose frozen rock and rough spheres of marble-colored ice bled into view.  The shack was insulated, and the pirates had filled it from top to bottom with glacial orbs. 

Each
ball held a preserved human fetus: a small child’s corpse, limbs tangled and frosted blue, enlarged heads cracked open.  Umbilical cords had petrified in twisted orbits.  Cold eyes shone in the dark confines of frozen prisons.

They were bodies stolen from pregnant women, ripped from their wombs and preserved with dark magic.  The vampires used them to study human anatomy – to better learn
how they could destroy their enemies.

You bastards.

Cross walked away from the building.  The others watched him as he climbed on board.  They cast off mooring lines and drifted away from the shore before the engine sputtered to life.

He motioned to the flamethrower, and
then pointed at the storehouse.  Witch didn’t seem happy with the instruction, but she didn’t stop Dozer from scorching the shack as they slowly pulled away.  The flames roiled, and the building caught alight beneath the focused stream.  Dark smoke poured into the sky, and they heard the sound of ice exploding. 

Cross shielded Shiv
behind his back while Flint piloted them out to sea, keeping the boat in the shadow of the islands.  The ship bobbed up and down, and everyone had to hold on tight. 

“What was it?” Shiv asked. 
“In the building?”


Don’t worry about it,” Cross said. 

He looked at Witch.  She nodded, and gestured towards the open waters.
  What they sought was somewhere in the Loch.  Cross hoped they weren’t too late.

 

 

 

 

 

 

EIGHTEEN

RESCUE

 

 

The vampire Creed
had taken over the remains of a fishing settlement that looked like it had been abandoned for years.  The cluster of dark buildings stood in a field of broken stone and open dust trails patched with shards of brittle grass.  The Nightblood River stood half-a-mile away in a shallow canyon of rock, where the water ran fast and sharp. 

Inky clouds rolled
across the sky.  It was almost night. 

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