Witch Queen (18 page)

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Authors: Kim Richardson

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #paranormal, #sword and sorcery, #young adult, #epic fantasy series, #teen fantasy, #myths and legends, #fantasy and magic, #throne of glass

BOOK: Witch Queen
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The next moment I experienced the strange
sensation of icy rain falling down the back of my neck. I felt a
terrible chill, but it wasn’t raining. The looks of confusion and
fear on the men’s faces told me that they were experiencing it,
too.

Fawkes didn’t even flinch.

I could see more pale shapes shamble down
the mountain’s sides.

The hissing escalated. And then as one, the
familiars pushed themselves off the cliffs.

My breath caught as these faceless creatures
rained down on us. There were too many to count. The flapping and
crinkling of leather surrounded us as they hovered and dropped.
They landed in a circle, trapping us in.

“Get to the horses!” Fawkes’ warning was too
late. Six familiars landed ten feet from us and blocked our way to
the horses.

“They’re coming up from behind!” shouted
Will.

I spun around, and my blood went cold. A
great big heap of ten ghastly specters sprang at us.

Everyone scattered, and the pass was filled
with the hack of swords on flesh and steel on bone.

My blood turned from ice-cold to raging hot,
and I forgot about Fawkes and the others. It was just me and those
pale bastards.

The one closest to me cocked his head and
lunged forward. I was so disgusted by the thin, flesh-like wings
that fell like excess skin beneath its arms that I just stood there
and stared, but not for long.

An animal rage escaped me, and I bared my
teeth and growled as I met the creature with a swing of my sword.
But the familiar shifted to the left with unnatural speed, and I
missed it. At the same moment, it feinted a high cutting stroke
with its taloned hand and slashed its other hand towards my
knees.

White-hot pain seared through my right knee.
I hissed and stumbled back. I could feel warm liquid trickling down
my lower leg. Although the creature had no mouth, I could feel it
smiling, taunting me. It had injured me on purpose.

But why not just kill me and get it over
with?
It wanted to play with me first.

It beat its skin-like wings, shot into the
air, and came for me. I shifted to the side just as it landed. I
was still limping, but I could feel my magic healing my knee and
feeding me with renewed strength.

The familiar lunged again, and I barely
avoided its razor-sharp talons. I twisted and ducked, barely
escaping, but I felt a tug on my cloak.

That was too close.

I spun as the creature thrashed at me. Its
face was so close that it chilled my body, but my movements were
fluid and silent. I wasn’t blessed with magic for nothing.

I blocked every strike, every slash. My
movements had become so quick that they would have been a blur to
any human or creature. I realized that I was getting better at
this—at killing. As my confidence built, I attacked faster and
thrashed harder.

The familiar spotted an opening and slashed
at my left heel.

I staggered and fell. I cried out and nearly
vomited at the sight of my blood. The thing had torn right through
the leather of my boot. It was probably the only thing that had
kept it from reaching bone.

Golden light spilled from the tear in my
boot, but the familiar didn’t seem to notice.

I had enough strength to stand. My eyes
never wavered from the creature.

Witches are not permitted to leave the
homeland, but if they do, they can never enter again
. An
ancient, hollow voice echoed inside my head.

The homeland is sacred. The homeland is
power. Those who leave, we devour.

“I never left,” I spat.

I supported my weight with my right leg and
called to the familiar.

“I’m not from Witchdom. I’m from the Pit,
from Anglia. We don’t want any trouble. We just want to get across
the pass. But if you won’t let us through, you’re all going to die.
I can promise you that.”

I hoped the thing couldn’t read into my
bluff.

The familiar tossed its head back as though
in a laugh.

A lost witch is a dead witch. Magic is
power. Blood is better.

“I’ll kill you before you get a chance to
taste my blood,” I growled, not knowing how it could actually taste
my blood without a mouth. Bile rose at the back of my throat at the
thought.

In a defensive stance, I gripped my sword,
expecting the creature to attack me again.

But it stood still for a moment, its head
lowered, watching me without eyes. And then its skin brightened and
cast a soft glow. It flicked its taloned hands towards me in the
same way Fawkes had done when he had used his fire magic on me.

I halted mid-step when I realized it had
just cast a spell on me.

The magic hit me like a jolt of energy and
left me gasping and shaking. I was so cold that my teeth chattered.
It wasn’t the soothing, tingling warmth of Fawkes’ magic. It was
cold and hot, and it stung me like a thousand deadly Anglian wasps.
My vision blurred so that all I could see was a vague shimmering.
My heart thumped in my throat, and I feared the worst. The magic
engulfed me with a smell of sour milk and vinegar so strong that my
eyes watered. I felt the magic move inside my body like a cold
breeze.

It was a breeze with the energy of a
thunderstorm. My limbs stiffened, and I felt as though I was made
of metal. I willed myself to move, to speak, but nothing moved, not
even my lips. It was like the paralysis I had felt when the man
from the Order of the Stones had poisoned me with hemlock. Tears
welled in my eyes, but I couldn’t blink them away from my paralyzed
cheeks.

I looked at the faceless creature. Surely it
would kill me now. I was horrified, frightened, but my body did not
shake. The men had no defense against this magic either. The
familiars were going to taunt them until they decided to kill us
all.

We’d never make it to Witchdom. The
hammering of my heart was the only thing that moved.

But then I felt a tingling, and my body
began to free itself from its magic hold. I could feel that the
spell was broken.

I smiled despite my fear, but I didn’t have
time to think about what had just happened. Before the familiar
could try another enchantment, I had already moved out of the
way.

I’d swear that for a moment I could see a
look of surprise and anger on the creature’s featureless face.

As I swung my blade, it hit me with a harsh
jolt of searing energy that sent me spiraling to the ground. I
rolled and writhed in an attempt to rid myself of the spell. My
limbs had begun to stiffen, and I was nearly paralyzed again. But
because I had become accustomed to the creature’s spell, my own
magic suppressed it faster this time. My body adjusted, and within
a few heartbeats I had broken the spell.

I jumped to my feet, sword in hand and a
wicked grin on my lips. I was going to kill that pale bastard.

“Seems like your magic doesn’t work on me,
familiar.”

I could hear his voice in my mind.
You
might be blessed with a stronger resilience than others, but in the
end you will not last. No witch can withstand our magic. You will
die, just like the others. Your blood is mine.

Was that fury I imagined on its featureless
face?

The familiar hit me again and again with its
magic. Each time it felt like a punch in the gut, and I was
immobilized for a few seconds, but then I recovered and the spell
broke. I stumbled and twisted to regain my balance as another bolt
of magic hit me. But each time it became easier to recover, until
finally its magic had no more effect.

I couldn’t help but laugh. For the first
time I actually felt what it was like to be immune to black
magic—what it truly meant to be a steel maiden. And in this moment
of clarity, I realized that my mother had gotten through the pass
to Arcania because her magic had protected her. The familiars had
no power over her.

And for the first time I felt
invincible.

“Stop wasting your time, faceless,” I waved
my sword and felt bolder by the second.

“I’m going to kill you. And you know why?
Because steel maidens are immune to your magic.”

The creature lifted its head as if to smell
me.

Steel maidens are a thing of legend. There
are no more witches of that clan that walk this world.

“Wrong again. There
is
one left, and
you’re looking at her, or can you even see me through that travesty
you call a face?”

In a fit of anger, the familiar threw a
volley of magic curses at me, but to no avail. They didn’t even
tingle. What a shame.

I feinted to the left, spun, and came up
behind it. As it turned in surprise, I slit its throat. The
familiar’s blood spurted on my face and hands, and I gagged at the
smell and taste of sour milk. Then I stabbed it in the head, just
to be sure it was dead.

I grimaced at the feel of its wet, gristly
flesh on my hands as I pulled my blade free. The familiar slumped
to the ground.

Over the pounding of blood in my ears, I
could hear the clangs and grunts of exertion as my men threw their
blows. They had done well, and pale bodies littered the ground in
puddles of white liquid. But still there were still way too many
familiars left to fight.

Will moved swiftly and deflected the talons
of a familiar who was advancing on him. The creature never let Will
catch his breath, but he parried every blow and returned fierce
blows of his own.

I could see Nugar’s battle-axe gleaming in
the moonlight. I searched for Fawkes, but I couldn’t find him.

My stomach churned when I saw that Leo and
Lucas were in real trouble. They had been paralyzed and were as
stiff as the statues in Soul City. Two familiars circled and danced
around them, taking turns slicing deep gashes into their skin with
their claws. They appeared to be savoring the moment, since the men
couldn’t defend themselves and would probably bleed to death. I
couldn’t see their faces, and I just hoped they were still
alive.

I moved fast and leapt over what I hoped was
a dead familiar. A second familiar hissed and waved its clawed
hands to cast a spell at me, but I didn’t stop to see if it would
work.

In a flash, I feinted to the right, ducked
and twisted. When I straightened up, I sliced into the familiar’s
neck. White blood splattered my face again, but I ignored it as
another familiar replaced the one I had just killed.

Left, right, left, I was assaulted by more
familiars, and I struck down every one. They finally seemed to
realize that their magic spells didn’t work on me. I could see it
plainly as they stopped and swayed their faceless heads in
confusion. But I didn’t care. I thrashed widely and deadly, until
their mangled bodies fell at my feet in a pile.

I caught my breath and caught a glimpse of
Fawkes.

He moved with the agility of a cat and
danced from familiar to familiar, striking them dead with his
sword. The two that were torturing Leo and Lucas broke away and
leapt at him from behind. But Fawkes turned around just as they
neared him, and with quick, deadly jabs the creatures fell at his
feet.

“Elena!” bellowed Fawkes. “Get to the
horses. Go! And ride hard!”

I wiped the sweat from my brow. Will and
Nugar breathed heavily, clearly shaken, their faces and clothes
were covered in white blood, but they were alive.

“What about Leo and Lucas?” I asked. My
breath came in rapid gasps, and a cramp pinched my right side.

The spells of the dead familiars still
seemed to enthrall them, and I feared they’d stay frozen
forever.

“Forget them. It’s too late,” said Fawkes.
“They’re just humans. Leave them. They’re dead anyway.”

“I can’t just leave them like this.”

I took a steadying breath.

“I won’t,” I added with more conviction.

“Foolish witch! There’s no time for human
sentiments. There are
thousands
more of those familiars. If
we don’t leave now, even your magic won’t be able to stop
them.”

Fawkes wiped the blood from his sword and
made his way towards the horses.

“Then go. Leave. Because I’m not going
without them.”

I looked at Leo and Lucas’ stiff bodies and
wondered if I was being foolish. I hoped I wasn’t risking our lives
and our quest to rescue them. But I’d made my decision. I would not
leave them.

Fawkes mounted his elk in an instant. At
first I thought he was going to abandon me until I saw him reach
for Torak’s reins to steady him. He gave me a nasty scowl, but he
stayed by the animals.

“Then I suggest you hurry if you want the
humans to live,” he barked. “We only have a few moments before more
familiars arrive—before we
all
perish here for this
foolishness.”

My pulse raced. Fawkes could really push my
buttons, but I knew exactly what to do.

“Nugar. Will. Come and help me get them on
their horses,” I yelled as we all ran towards the horses.

I glanced at our packs on the ground, but
there was no time to pack anything. We would have to leave
everywhere behind. Moving fast we steered the horses towards the
two motionless men. I could see movement in Leo’s eyes and realized
with a surge of relief that he was still alive. Lucas was alive as
well.

We hauled them onto their horses and
strapped them in their saddles as best we could. I tied their reins
to Nugar and Will’s steeds and then tied Max and Garrick’s horses
to them as well. I wasn’t about to leave any of our horses to the
familiars.

As I tied the last rein in place, I heard
hissing, and a cold voice whispered inside my head.

The homeland is sacred. The homeland is
power. Those who leave, we devour.

The sides of the cliffs crawled with
familiars. They arched their backs and sprang.

“Go! Go! Go!” I screamed. I pulled myself
onto Torak, grabbed the reins, kicked him hard, and we shot
forward.

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