Authors: Bradford Bates
It was time for us to get to work, something I felt more comfortable doing. Having a task to do would keep my mind from wandering back to thoughts of her pristine body. I shoved that thought away even as I smiled to myself. God, what was wrong with me? There was work to be done. The trail we had been following had grown cold. I hoped that Sarah could use her tracking ability to pick something up outside of town. If we could pick up the trail, maybe we could end this and get back to the city where we belonged.
I was sure that if we had found this town, the witches had found it first. Somehow, they always seemed to remain one step ahead of us. If the coven had come this way as we suspected, then Sarah would be able to pick up a hint of their scent. It was time to get back to doing what we did best—Sarah tracked them and I obliterated them.
The woods that had called to us from our window were where we were headed now. I enjoyed watching Sarah work the land, prowling around for clues that I would easily miss. It was always a joy to watch someone work at a craft that you had failed to master. They always made it look so easy. Hopefully we would find something before the night was over; I was really looking forward to sleeping in the bed we had paid for. Months of sleeping on the hard ground had done nothing for my back. I doubted anyone used to the joys of living in the city would ever feel completely comfortable in the woods again. We deserved at least one night of rest in a real bed.
The early afternoon and evening blended together quickly as we roamed the woods. The search for any hint of their passing in this direction wasn’t going well. I could see the frustration on Sarah’s face. I decided not to say anything about it. If they weren’t here, then that meant I could sleep in for once. The search mostly relied on Sarah’s heightened sense of smell to point us in the right direction. This time, however, her nose failed us and the trail fizzled out. I took it as a sign that it was time for bed, but a small part of me wondered if they had finally found a way to mask their scent from us. Our bed called to me, and I was ready to heed that siren’s song.
Not being able to track them during the day had at least one perk, but it wasn’t as enticing as the thought of that comfy bed. Once it was dark, we would be able to travel with our weapons out. Something about having the twin swords strapped to my back and having my staff in hand made me feel safer. I hated the thought of running into an organized resistance without having access to our weapons.
Granted, we could probably destroy a smaller coven of witches, even unarmed, but it was always better to be prepared than to be lucky. The witches we encountered had been coming in larger and larger groups as we headed east. The number of them who had escaped the Ascendancy’s previous notice was surprising. Running into a group of at least twenty witches, or maybe even ten who were well organized, could prove to be problematic without our weapons.
Realizing we were just wasting time until nightfall, we started our journey back toward town. Later, we would return to the forest, under the cover of darkness. Sarah would be able to shift, helping our chances of picking up any kind of scent to follow. In her Lycan form, she would be able to pick up some kind of clue; I was sure of it. She hadn’t failed me yet. We walked the horses into the stable, and I carried both our saddlebags back up to our room.
As we entered the saloon, I immediately had the sense that something was wrong. Sarah tensed beside me, so I knew she picked up on it too. The place was deserted, which didn’t make sense. It was after dark in a mining town and, with the workers staying here accompanied by the attraction of whores, the place should have been full to overflowing. Just the workers alone would have filled the smaller bar area. A few tables had been overturned, as if people had left in a hurry; other than a few other small signs, it was as if no one had been here for hours.
We rushed up the stairs to check our room, and I was pleased to find that our weapons were still there. I removed the spell that was hiding them, and tossed Sarah her sword. I took the time to harness my two blades so the grips just cleared the back of my shoulders. I also unwrapped my staff from its oilskin bundle. Something about carrying my staff just made me feel better. Fully equipped, we headed back down the stairs.
From the bottom of the stairs, we heard the gentle sound of a slow clap. Both of us turned toward the small stage normally used for a few of the dancing girls, only to find something much different waiting for us. The curtains opened, and a man was standing in the middle of the stage. He was dressed absurdly for being this far away from civilization. He had on a black top hat and was wearing a jacket that ended in tails. If this man worked with the witches we had been following, it was safe to assume he had some powers of his own.
As the curtains were pulled fully open, he took a small bow. “I see you have finally tracked us down. You must be so proud. There is good news for you, and bad news. Well, mostly just bad news. The ritual we have been working on is being completed as we speak, and you are surrounded by five of our best. The only good news for you is I promise to make your deaths quick.”
I heard a low rumble come from Sarah, and I gave her a slight nod. It happened so quickly that I almost missed my chance to do my part. She started sprinting at the warlock and, within three steps, had shed her human skin and turned into the eight-foot beast I had come to know so well. She leaped once more, clearing the last ten feet to her target in a single jump. Then, her jaws closed around his throat. With a single powerful motion, she placed her hands on the warlock’s shoulders and pulled her head violently back. The blood sprayed out, covering her fur. She spat out the warlock’s throat and pushed his body to the side. His life’s blood was quickly pooling on the floor, sealing his fate. With the current threat neutralized, she turned back toward the battle.
Sarah rushed back toward me, and I quickly worked on countering the spells of the three witches and two warlocks behind me. I used no offensive magic; my goal was to simply hold them off until Sarah could return to the battle. I didn’t have to wait long, as she pounced from the side, ripping out the throat of the first witch on my left. I quickly used one of my favorite spells: I created two walls of ice in front of me and then threw out a small blast of fire at the legs of one of the warlocks to my right.
As expected, both witches in front of me cast spells to shatter my erected ice walls, thinking I was using them to shield myself. I gathered all the shattered ice shards into the air and flung them back toward the witches. Both of them fell to the floor, screaming. Being impaled by razor-sharp spikes of ice tended to have that effect on people. Sarah was ripping one of the last two warlocks apart. The last warlock standing thought better of the situation and made a run for the door. If he hadn’t been limping from the fire I had cast at him, he might have had a chance to get away. Before I could even ask Sarah to catch him, she pulled him back inside, tossing him to the ground at my feet. Now it was time for me to do my part.
I grabbed the warlock’s head, shouting, “You have one chance to save yourself before I have my wolf start breaking bones! Where is the ritual being held?”
The warlock spat on me and stayed silent. I nodded towards Sarah and was rewarded with the sound of a crack. Screams filled the air, and I just held a finger up in front of my lips signaling for the warlock's silence.
“We really don’t have time to be nice. Next, I’m going to have her break both your legs, and if it goes past that, it’s my turn to go to work on you. Where are they holding the ritual?”
This time the warlock let out a little whimper when my fist struck him but gave no indication of where to go. I nodded at Sarah again, and her move towards him was followed by two sharp cracks as she broke his legs. The sound of his screams filled the room, but there was no one left to hear them but us.
“You have one last chance to save yourself before I go to work on you. If you haven’t ever met anyone tortured by an inquisitor, there is a reason for that. We get what we need and then leave you to expire slowly. I will use just enough magic to let you enjoy your last moments on this earth in extreme agony. I promise you mercy if you tell me where the ritual is being held.”
It came out almost as a sigh. “Beacon Hill.” I motioned for him to continue. “It’s southwest of here by about three miles. It’s the only hill you can see from here. You will know it’s the right one because it is surrounded by five smaller hills. You will know it when you see it.”
With his confession completed, I ended the warlock's suffering with a blade of ice. One quick thrust of the blade severed his head from his shoulders and brought his pitiful existence to an end. As he lay dead on the floor, I nodded to Sarah and ran upstairs to retrieve the rest of our gear. I had the feeling we wouldn’t be returning to Miner’s Streak after the battle. So much for that nice cozy-looking bed.
* * *
W
e sat together
, hidden by a small bit of scrub at the edge of the forest, looking out at the witches as they prepared their ritual. The pentagram was already in place and the sacrifices completed. Each of the smaller hills marked a point of the pentagram, with Beacon Hill at its center. The leader of their coven was standing at the center of the pentagram, readying the final sacrifice for her spell. We looked on in horror as her full body came into view for the first time.
Her torso was what you would expect to find on any normal, well-endowed woman. From her long, flowing black hair all the way down to just below her belly button, she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. That is where her beauty ended. Her lower body was some kind of hideous mutation. It must have taken place when she bonded herself with a Demon too strong for her to entirely control. It had left her with the lower body of a giant spider. Once a witch took on that kind of power, there was no way to release it outside of death. The Demon she had tried to control must have been something to behold in hell. She was something we hadn’t seen before and hoped to never see again.
I heard a low growl to my right as my partner’s anger boiled over at the sight of her. She was something else entirely: a once-in-a-generation pure silver Lycan. Most Lycans retained their hair color when they changed forms, but she was special, a harbinger for their kind. It never ceased to amaze me that Sarah could turn from a five-foot-two woman with raven-black hair into an eight-foot silver wolf. She was ready to go to battle with her large broad sword harnessed to her back.
Kneeling beside her, I double-checked the blades crisscrossing my back, making sure that the hilts were loose and could be easily removed in the frosty night air. I checked my staff to make sure the reserve power I had stored in it last night was ready to be called upon. I wiped the sweat on my palms off on my pants before pulling my gloves back on. Even in the chilly night air, I was sweating. It was my body’s response to the fight that was coming and the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Something else was keeping me just slightly off balance. I wasn’t sure when or how it happened, only that I had fallen in love with Sarah during our trip. She must have felt the same way. That was why she enjoyed teasing me so much. It was hard to fathom when you are looking at a huge silver werewolf, but in those times with the beast, I remembered only the raven-haired goddess that she was. Her eyes showed the same intelligence and feeling, and I knew I would protect her always, even at the cost of my own life.
Now, seeing our opponent in the flesh, I could understand how she had so many witches under her command. It was hard to calculate just how tall she was, or could be, because of her lower half. The eight spider legs seemed to bend and be in constant motion. During her chanting, she would sometimes rear up on her back four legs, making her seem even taller. When she was standing on her back legs, you could see the arcane symbols on the spider’s belly. The symbols lit the night, glowing red. Each time she reared back, the red light showed through her grotesque body a little bit more.
It was easy to see how she could enthrall men into doing her bidding by masking her lower half. Rising from just below her navel, the top half of her body had the kind of look that would easily bring weaker men to their knees. Her only clothing was a thin chainmail that hung loosely from her shoulders and ended in a point just below her belly button. In one of her human arms, she carried a massive black staff. Up and down the length of the staff intricate red arcane symbols were inscribed, and they seemed to move the length of the staff in time with her chanting.
Sarah looked at me and let out another low growl. This time I could tell it was due to impatience; she was ready to charge and take the fight to them. “I’m ready, Sarah. Wait until you see my first attack before you charge in.”
She looked back at me and signaled that she understood with a slight nod. With her affirmation, I started to prepare my cast. I summoned the magic into myself, wrapping it around my core, using it to lighten myself and increase my natural speed. Then I shook five marbles from my pouch into my open palm and used my magic to create a blue fire around them. Without another thought, I sent them at the first five witches watching the forest. As they flew across the open space, they grew in size and heat. By the time they struck the first of the witches, they were three times their original size. As they hit the witches, another part of the spell activated, shattering the flaming glass balls, sending superheated shrapnel in all directions.