The Witch's Eye (44 page)

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Authors: Steven Montano,Barry Currey

BOOK: The Witch's Eye
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Azradayne held her arms to the sky and laughed.

Rage burned inside him.  Azradayne had manipulated his life to send Danica down a path that would lead to her transformation, then snatched her away and deposited her in Lorn so she’d eventually end up here.  Why the Spider hadn’t just brought Danica to the gate herself was something he doubted he’d ever understand. Maybe the time hadn’t been right, or Danica’s activities in Lorn had triggered further events Azaradayne needed set in motion. 

This ends now

Cross rose
to his feet.  Soulrazor/Avenger sliced a path through the battery of spirit energies.  He charged at Azradayne. 

She calmly opened two of her palms
, and twin spheres of bleeding light shot towards him with the sound of screaming metal.  He held the blade ready and set his feet.  The stained meteors burned the air.  Cross knew he was about to die.

Something grabbed hold of him,
a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time.  Soothing whispers circled his mind, and a voice breathed life into his body.  His flesh warmed.  Something held him as if impassioned, a presence that stuck to his skin like a lover’s sweat.

How?

His spirit cracked open the air.  A blast like a peel of thunder shook the ground.  The meteors exploded against an invisible barrier and sparked around him.  Cross tasted brimstone and burning rock.

He called
her to him.  Normally it would be suicide to do so without implement gauntlets, but somehow he knew he didn’t need them.  He could channel her with the sword.

Cross
’s spirit burned against his skin.  It had been so long since he’d felt her presence he almost forgot himself.  His feet seemed to leave the ground.  Coils of warmth wound around his body.

Soulrazor/Avenger flashed forward.  His spirit soared ahead in a
cone of blue-white fire.  The forms on the other side of the twisted portal writhed in pain. 

“Nooooooooooo!”

Azradayne’s scream tore into his mind.  She spat gouts of fire.  Cross’s spirit wrapped around his body and kept the scorching missiles at bay, but the force of the bursts still hammered his ribs and stomach.  He fell to his knees in pain.

His spirit was expending too much energy keeping him safe. 
He felt her slipping away. 

No.  Not again.  Not
when I just found you.

Dan
ica rose to her feet and blasted Azradayne with a lance of white fire.  Somehow she and her spirit had both held on. 

Monstrous visages
pushed against the gate and stretched it like a grisly film.  Dark fluids from the other side spilled through and scorched the ground.  The air shook with a deep bass sound like stones being dropped from the sky.

Azradayne turned her attention to Danica. 
Black power launched from the spider’s eyes and scorched the witch’s shield. 

How are we
surviving this?
Cross wondered.
  My spirit is gone, long dead.  And Danica’s
should
be.

He struggled to rise, and
saw Shiv just beyond the circle of obsidian stones.  Her eyes glowed white and her body floated just inches off the ground, as if she were carried on vents of steam.  Her hair rippled in the black wind.  Flint and Grail were with her, petrified in a wake of power that wasn’t hers.

She
’s summoned our spirits
, he realized. 
She’s fighting Azradayne through
us
.

Cross grit his teeth
and gripped the hilt of his blade.  His spirit clutched his body like a fist.  Muscles burning, he soared forward.

Things writhed on the other side of the
gate.  The boundary was weakening.  He saw the edge of a nightmare world, a charred landscape of writhing souls and twisted mountains of dark flesh.  Eyes like stars compressed and bled.  He felt the breath of a thousand corpses.

Azradayne
turned to face him.  His blade sheared through two of her arms.  Black blood burned against his face. 

With Azradayne down
, Cross sensed as Shiv used his and Danica’s spirits to seal the gate.  Power flowed from the Kindred through the witch and the once-warlock.  Dark fire blazed across his body. 

Cross howled in agony
.  He hung on the knife edge of life.  Ice wind scoured his lungs, and his flesh burned with cold. 

He
distantly sensed Danica at his side.  They were both on their knees, held up only by the force of their own spirits, no longer
their
spirits.  They had become conduits to their own power.  Once in control, now gates themselves.  Magic poured out of their eyes and mouths.  Tears of pain ran down his face.  He and Danica were the cold inner heart of the flame.

After what seemed an eternity,
everything went quiet.

Cross collapsed.  He tasted scorched dust and soiled earth.  His clothing was torn
and black, his skin covered with icy soot.  Blood stained his lips.  He could barely lift his trembling arms.

It took tremendous effort to rise
, and in the end Grail had to help both he and Danica to their feet.  The night was thick and dark.  Dim light from over the peaks cast just enough of a glow for them to see the ground. 

The gate was gone.  The archway lay shattered in the dirt.

Danica wrapped her arms around Cross.

“I thought I
’d never see you again,” she said.

He held her close.  There were s
o many things he needed to say, but at that moment all he wanted was to hold her.

“Cross!” Flint yelled.  “Cross…please…”

“What…”

Shiv
’s body was on the ground.

“No…Christ, no…”

His breath caught in his chest.  He stumbled forward. 

Shiv.

The girl’s eyes were closed.  She lay on her back.  Her skin was rigid and pale. Cross collapsed on the ground and grabbed her hand. She felt like ice. 

“Shiv!” he yelled. 

“Oh baby girl!” Flint cried.  His voice was frantic.  He tried to hold himself together, but the sobs came uncontrollably.  He gasped and cried and smothered his daughter in his arms.  “Don’t leave me, Shiv, please!” 

“Shiv!” Cross yelled again. 

He saw Snow.  Burning on the train.

No.  Snow is gone.  You have to let her go.

He held onto Shiv’s hand.  He knew she could feel him.

Danica
pressed against his back.  Flint’s tears stained the ground. 

Come back to us.  Please.  I want to believe everything can be ok.  I
need
to believe.  Please.

“Please,” he said aloud.

He felt something.  A presence shimmered in the air.  He closed his eyes, and he was in the glade.  He saw her at the edge of the trees.  Her gossamer dress blew in the icy wind.  Marsh waters rushed around him.  Leaves drifted through the sky like birds.  She smiled, and waved goodbye.

His eyes opened, and so did Shiv
’s.  She gasped, and coughed.  Some grey substance spewed from between her lips, a gob of ghostly smoke that sizzled when it struck the ground.  She bent to her side and coughed up more fluid, spat, coughed again. 

She was alive.

Flint held her tight, still crying. 

“I thought I
’d lost you,” he said.  “I thought I’d lost you, girl.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she said
weakly.  She looked up at Cross, and smiled.  He smiled back.  “Is this your friend?” she asked, and she looked at Danica.

“Yes,” Cross said.  “This is my friend.”  He looked at her.  “Danica, meet Shiv.  I think she just saved the world.”

 

They carefully made their way up
the slope.  There was no sign of Azradayne except for a patch of greasy blood where Cross had wounded her.  The limbs he’d taken had shriveled to piles of grey silk. 

The sounds of fighting were gone.  Dawn cracked over the horizon. 
The air was cold and filled with ice crystals, and the sound of waves crashing against the island echoed into the crater.

They were far from anywhere safe.  Cross hoped some of Ankharra
’s men or the Grey Watch had survived the battle and would still be nearby to help.  He hated to think they’d lived through their battle with Azradayne just to be left at the mercy of the Ebon Cities.

The gate remained closed.  Whatever Azradayne planned to do had failed.

But she escaped.  She’s still out there somewhere.  Waiting.

H
e tried not to worry about that, at least for the moment.  Cross watched Flint and Shiv, father and daughter, as they walked up the slope.  They were happy.  They were alive. 

But for how long?

It was up to him to keep them that way. 

Grail
scouted ahead.  They came across the remains of several Witchborn, now just husks of gooey flesh.  He was grateful Flint kept Shiv distracted from the sight of them.

“Cross,” Danica said.  She walked next to him.  He looked at her, and his heart skipped in his chest.  She was so beautiful.  Her hair was darker now, and she had many scars, as did he.  They both had more than their
fair share.  “I don’t know what happened to Ronan,” she said sadly.

“We
’ll find him,” he said.  “If he’s here…we’ll find him.”

They
walked.  Their legs were weary. 

He wanted to say more
to her, but he couldn’t find the words.  So they just walked.

“What happened back there?” she asked.

“Shiv used our spirits,” he said.  “She can do that.  She used them to save us.  To close the gate Azradayne tried to open.”

“Wait…your spirit is…”

“I know,” he said, and he smiled sadly.  “I know.  It was…nice to see her again.”  He hesitated.  “Danica…listen…”

She took his hand, and halted him with a kiss.
  Her lips were salty and sweet, and softer than anything he’d ever felt.

“I know,” she said.  “I know.”

The five of them walked up the hill, towards the light of dawn.

Thank you
, he thought. 
Thank you for letting us be here.  Here in this new day.

Cross
took Danica’s hand.  He looked at her.  It had been so long since he’d felt love he almost couldn’t recognize it for what it was.

Something
moved behind them.  A ripple in the darkness.  Air displaced by something below drifted up and touched Cross’s face.  It smelled of black water and burning skin.

“Cross,” Shiv said.  Her eyes were wide with terror.  “I
’m sorry.  I didn’t sense them before.”

Grail raced
towards them with his bow ready.  Flint looked back to where the gate had stood. 

“What
is
that?” he asked.

Something
was down there: a nest of pulsing shadows.  Breaths like night frost washed over them. 

The gate was broken.  Azradayne had failed.

And yet something had still come through.  A mass of darkness.  Shapes so black they burned the eyes to look on them.

“Run,” Cross said.  “Now.”

They scrambled up the hill.  Whatever the forms were, they didn’t give chase.  They were impossible to make out clearly, just vague definitions in the darkness, multi-limbed things bound in skins of black ice.  Their breath felt like the cold winds of hell, and their darkness weighted the air.  They were shadowflesh, cold voids within hulking oblivion bodies.  The earth greyed from their presence. 

Cross led the others away from the ruins of the gate. 
Fear iced his heart.  The five survivors ran. 

Be
hind them, a host of dark creatures howled into the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

Steven Montano
can’t believe he’s written five full-length novels in this series.  Writing five more will likely be the death of him.  But hey…it was fun while it lasted.

 

He lives in Washington State with his wife, two children, a dog of below-average intelligence, and a ridiculous number of books and bottles of wine.

 

Visit Steven’s official website,
bloodskies.com

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