Witch Queen (19 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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Will and Nugar were right behind me, and the
sound of our hooves thundered in the pass. Torak tore through the
pass at an incredible speed, and I hung on for dear life.

Fawkes kept up the rear this time, but I
didn’t dare risk a glance behind. I imagined the throng of
familiars at our heels. There would be too many this time, and my
magic wouldn’t help me against hundreds of deadly talons.

We rode hard and didn’t stop. I thanked the
Goddess that the ground was flat and urged Torak faster until I
could hardly feel the pounding of the ground beneath his hooves. It
felt like we were flying.

I don’t know how long we tore down the pass
with the pale devils behind us.
Hours? Minutes?
It was only
when the darkness lifted and soft light poured down on us that I
realized it must be morning. But I didn’t dare stop.

I heard Fawkes calling my name and looked
over my shoulder. I was fifty yards ahead of them. Torak’s speed
had outshone the other horses again. Leo and Lucas appeared to be
all right. They were
sitting
up in their saddles and riding
hard. And there were no signs of the familiars.

I scanned the cliffs that surrounded us. At
first it was hard to focus as Torak threw me around, but as I
steadied myself, I could see only rock and mountains.

I slowed Torak and stroked his neck to calm
him. Fawkes steered his elk next to me. In spite of the dry white
flakes that covered his face, it only took a moment for me to see
how relaxed he had become.

“The familiars,” I gasped. My throat was
raw, and I was thirsty. I blinked the sweat from my eyes and
scanned the peaks behind me. “Why have they stopped chasing
us?”

Fawkes pointed straight ahead and said,
“Because we have arrived at our destination.”

I hadn’t even noticed that we’d reached the
end of the pass. And as the morning light bathed us in warmth, we
stood at the entrance to another realm.

Sprawled before us was a world of magic and
mystery. Witchdom.

 

CHAPTER 15

 

 

 

W
ITCHDOM WAS A BREATHTAKING world of
sparkling rivers, snowcapped mountains, rolling green hills, and
primeval forests and river valleys. Although I could see villages
and towns, the landscape was eerily silent, as though the world was
holding its breath.

It looked like Arcania in many ways, but
within its rolling hills, waterways, and greenery lay the secrets
of magic.

I was dizzy from hunger. The cool air had
finally settled in, and I felt a chill in my bones, too. But I
refused to ask Fawkes to warm me with his magic. I didn’t want him
to feel as though I really needed him.

The world was awash in the pinkish light of
a rising sun, and I let out a shaky breath. After over a month’s
travel, we had finally made it to the witches’ realm. We had done
it.

I wasn’t sure what I had expected to see.
Maybe I thought I’d feel some sort of connection that would bring
me closer to my mother’s homeland. However, nothing but dread was
in my heart. I didn’t feel like I’d accomplished anything, even
though I had traveled across an entire country, because I knew that
the worst was yet to come.

As I slid off Torak’s back, and when my
boots hit solid ground I jumped back in surprise. A subtle
vibration pulsed against my feet, as though thousands of bees lived
underground. Instinctively I looked at Fawkes.

“The magic in Witchdom is potent, especially
here. It is most concentrated near the borders, in the mountains,”
he explained as he dismounted his elk. “You’ll get used to it.”

The earth’s magic throbbed like a heartbeat,
as though there were a spring of magic below my feet.

The men looked at each other uneasily before
they all dismounted. But if they felt the magic pulsing beneath
their feet, they didn’t mention it. They seemed unaware of the
magic’s pull. Maybe they
couldn’t
feel it. Maybe only
witches could feel the magic.

At another time I would have felt privileged
or special to have felt the pulsing of magic when the others
hadn’t. But I still couldn’t shake the dread in my heart, and it
was getting worse.

“We made it,” said Leo, shaking me out of my
thoughts. He smiled at me, but he was paler than usual, and there
were dark circles under his eyes.

“Yes. Yes, we did.” My smile didn’t reach my
eyes.

My dread was slowly becoming an ache in my
soul, and I strained to control myself. I would not let the men see
me falter. I couldn’t let them see how panicked I truly felt.

“Is it what you expected?”

I shrugged at Leo, “To tell you the truth, I
have no idea what I expected.”

“Well, from the stories I heard as a boy, I
was expecting to see fire and ash everywhere, and rivers flowing
with the blood of tortured folks. But it looks pretty much like
back home, doesn’t it?”

The color was coming back into his
cheeks.

I nodded. I had heard the exact same
stories. “I guess it does.”

“You were right, Elena,” said Leo as he
turned his gaze towards the Witchdom. “Folks from the Pit are small
minded and ignorant. Look at me, believing in children’s tales.
It’s like you said, witches are just like us, maybe just a little
different around the edges.”

He looked at his feet as the flush on his
cheeks moved down his neck.

“And I’m sorry I ever doubted you. But I
have faith now. This witch king is going to help us. I can feel it.
We’re going to save the realm…we’re going to save Jon.”

With a winning smile, he made his way back
to the group, leaving me with words in my mouth that I couldn’t
utter. When I looked back at the men, I could see that some of the
tension had faded from their expressions, and they carried
themselves more lightly. It was clear that whatever atrocities
they’d expected once we had crossed the pass hadn’t happened. I
even saw a few smiles as they began to relax.

Part of me wanted to slap them out of it, to
warn them against being too careless, and not to let the
familiarity of this realm fool them.

But I couldn’t. They’d been through so much.
They deserved a little hope. Even if it was for just a little
while, even if I knew it would soon crumble.

Fawkes looked troubled, however. Though he
concealed it well, a slight shake of his head was enough to confirm
my suspicions.

Things would
not
go well at all.
Humans were not welcome in Witchdom.

After we had given our horses a much needed
break, we saddled back up and began the journey to the capital,
Lunaris.

As we rode out, we were met with newly
fallen wet snow that covered the ground in a thin white blanket and
was slowly melting in the sun. I was glad to have left the giant
granite rocks behind, but I couldn’t still the hammering of my
heart as we began our journey. A cold sweat broke out on my
forehead, and my undershirt was soon soaked. I had failed to calm
my nerves.

We set off on a less traveled road that was
overgrown with weeds. Fawkes led the way on his bull elk, and Torak
and I rode alongside him. I kept my face blank and watched him for
any indications of how he felt our journey east would go. But he
kept silent for hours, and I couldn’t decide whether it was just
part of his charm or whether it was fear. From the little I knew of
him, Fawkes didn’t come across as someone who would scare easily.
The tension in his shoulders, the thinness of his lips, and the way
he had shut down could only mean that he was also dreading whatever
we’d be facing in the capital.

Would we make it out alive? Was he
leading us to our doom? Was this a mistake? Could we face the
necromancer priests without the help of the witch king? Was there
another way? Were we riding into a trap?
I didn’t think we had
any other choice but to continue.

After a cold and silent night, we woke the
next morning to a nonexistent breakfast. We did find water to slake
our thirst, but it didn’t really satisfy the aching of our starved
bellies. Fawkes managed to find a handful of mushrooms and berries
that were safe to eat, but they did nothing to quench my hunger,
and I drank more water.

The clear, glorious day did nothing to
lessen the chill around my heart. The closer we got to the capital,
the more my nervous I became. I felt I was on the brink of an edge
over which I was about to fall.

After a few miles of riding, we came to a
crossroads and turned northeast. The way took us through plains,
over rivers, and up into rolling hills. Streaks of smoke coiled
into the sky from distant villages.

As we neared the first village, we met our
first group of witches. They were working in the fields, just like
the farmers in Anglia. My first impression was of how odd and
familiar the sight appeared. I had never expected that witches
would do any kind of hard labor at all. I imagined that they would
have enchanted their fields to produce an endless supply of
vegetables.

Before we got close enough to see their
faces, Fawkes ordered all of us to pull our cowls over our
heads.

“From now on you must keep them lowered over
your heads at all times.”

I could see the tension in his face.

“Humans are not welcomed here. Just as
witches were perceived as the enemy in your homeland, humans are
the enemy here. If a witch recognizes you as humans, they will
undoubtedly try to kill you. And I will not be able to stop them.
The only thing I can do is cast a temporary cloaking spell that
will make you appear to be witches. But it won’t last.”

The men exchanged worried glances but said
nothing.

Fawkes bit back his annoyance.

“Never forget that there are only
four
of you. There are thousands of witches, and they would
like nothing better than to peel the skin off your bones and watch
you die slowly. Don’t give them an excuse. Keep quiet. Don’t react
to anything you might see because it will give your humanity away.
Keep our eyes on the road ahead and don’t try anything stupid no
matter
what
you see. Understood?”

To my surprise the men all nodded, but if
they had felt any sense of good fortune earlier, it was now
completely crushed.

“Witches hate humans. Remember that.”

Fawkes raised his right hand and quickly
spoke a few words in a language I couldn’t decipher.

“What language is that?” I asked when he
finished. It sounded like the same strange words he had uttered
back at the entrance of the pass. While the words were strange, the
language was enchanting and had rhythmic qualities like the melody
of a song.

“Witchtongue,” said Fawkes. “The old
language of the witches. Most of us speak Common and Witchtongue.
All spells, charms, enchantments, and magic are in
Witchtongue.”

Fawkes seemed to read the disappointment in
my face.

“If we live through this, I promise to teach
you the old language.”

I beamed at him. “I’ll hold you to it.”

As Fawkes rode on ahead, I pulled my cowl
low enough to keep my face in shadow. I kicked Torak forward, and
all the men followed behind me in hooded silence.

As the distance between us and the witches
in the fields decreased, I realized that the field workers were not
witches at all. They were humans. I was glad that my cowl had
hidden the emotions that marred my face.

They were chained like animals. Elderly men
and women, their skin rough and deeply lined from a lifetime
outdoors in the sun, were working the fields. Their bodies were
bent with age, and their clothes hung loosely on their bone-thin
bodies. They were picking fruit off low shrubs and turning over the
earth with their bare hands. They didn’t even look up as we rode
past them.

I felt faint, ready to slip off my horse,
but Fawkes’ grip closed around my hand like an iron shackle.

“Don’t,” he warned. His face was inches from
mine and covered in sweat that hadn’t been there a moment ago.


He
will see you. There’s nothing you
can do for them. And if you don’t want
your
humans to suffer
the same fate, I suggest you keep quiet and keep your head
down.”

I swallowed back my rage. “Who will see me?”
I whispered.

Fawkes raised his head and I followed his
line of sight. A giant white wolf with a black head sat on his
haunches on a low mound. The beast was enormous, the size of a
small horse. Even in the distance I could see the unnatural yellow
and red glow in his eyes. They looked like burning coals. He turned
his gaze towards me, and I felt my skin crawl.

“His name is Wiscar,” answered Fawkes, his
voice low. “He’s a shifter witch, and the most brutal of his
kind.”

Something shifted on Fawkes’ face, and for a
moment I could see that he and this shifter witch had met
before.

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