Witch Bane (15 page)

Darius nodded. “We do, and he’s to be
trusted any more than the witches’ servants.”

“
Such as yourself, general?” Victor
chided. “We are not so different, you and I. Beaten in our bids to
free the world of the witches, we are both slaves.”

“
No, Victor, we are not the same. Even
in chains I fought against the Council, my will never once bent to
their whims. You,” he shook his head, “you turned your sword on
your own and bought your life with their deaths.” Darius
spit.

Emerald glanced between them.

“
You mistake me for a man with a
choice, general.” Victor held up his arm, the dark ink of his
tattoos visible. “My chains are the sharpened barbs that compel
obedience. They would shred the meat and bones from my carcass so I
must dance to the tune of the witches, as you so well know. I am no
traitor, my hand not my own, for I had no Council lover to remove
my leash.”

Darius laughed, gesturing at the dead
soldiers that littered the field. “Yet here you stand bold, the
proof of your lie at your feet. You are a betrayer in your heart,
and shall always be.”

Victor cast his eyes about, taking in the
Red Guard he’d slain. He looked back to Darius. “Amidst the blacks
and whites, I have learned the path of the gray, to be sure,
general. It was a lesson I had not known those many years back, and
the blood of my failures will always stain my heart.”

“
To what ends do you use such
knowledge now?”

“
That is not your concern.” He turned
to Emerald. “Come. The resistance is close and I might steal the
time to take you to them while the witches are
occupied.”

Emerald smiled her relief. It lasted but a
moment.

“
Step away, Girl. He’s
dangerous.”

Emerald turned to face Darius. “Thank you
for your help, but Victor is no threat to me, and I would rather
you not claim such.” She reached down and reclaimed her dagger,
slipping it into its sheath.

Darius stared, his eyes narrow. He shook his
head, the sounds of voices carrying to ears from the surrounding
woods.

Victor growled low, casting his eyes to
forest where flickers of red appeared in the distance. “We must go,
Emerald. We cannot be found together.” He latched onto her arm and
tugged her toward the closest trees.

“
Wait.” She slipped free. “The general
risked his life to save me. I will not abandon him.”

Victor’s gaze swung to Darius, a sneer
splitting his beard, but he did not challenge her wish. “If you
would come with us, general, do it now.” He grasped Emerald once
more and moved off.

She waved Darius on as they hurried into the
woods, letting loose a relieved sigh as the general stormed after
them. Though she could only guess at the depths of animosity
between her beloved and the general, she was glad Darius had chosen
to follow. Donlen and Fulrik were dead because of her. She didn’t
know if she could stomach another death laid upon her
shoulders.

Sixteen

Sebastian screamed. Tongues of fire lapped
through his shield, its defensive barrier slowly shriveling beneath
the fury of the Red Witch’s onslaught. He felt his skin cooking
inside, the air in his lungs like a furnace as the fiery maelstrom
continued. He was losing. His vision flickered, darkness enclosing
about the edges, surrounded by flashes of red and orange. He
thought of his mother and sighed, wondering if he’d join her soon.
Perhaps it was not too late to repent.

Waves of heat buffeted him as he held his
shaking hands out to keep the shield in place. He watched the flesh
of his fingers grow redder, beginning their gradual turn toward a
charred black. His thoughts drifted to his father; he could see the
disappointment in his eyes as though the man stood before him. For
all the love he held for his mother, the desire for revenge, it was
that look that hurt the most.

Raised on his father’s knee, despite all
their competitive head-butting and arguing, Sebastian felt sickened
at the idea of letting Darius down. There was too much at stake and
his father had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, for Sebastian
to let it slip away. Nearly every moment since his birth spent in
his father’s company, he couldn’t picture life without the old man.
He couldn’t imagine Darius’ life without him. This could not be the
end.

He clenched his jaw and focused on his power
as it churned within. He ignored the blisters that began to bubble
up across his palms, the acrid scent of burning flesh. With a
growl, which slipped feral through his teeth, Sebastian dug deep
inside the well of his magic; deeper than he’d ever dared under his
father’s tutelage. His stomach churned in a riot of violence, which
threatened to double him over. He fought against it and burrowed
even deeper with his will, touching the very core of his power.

He felt something give way.

A cold chill suffused him. His skin
stiffened, and the searing heat faded. A shimmering layer of ice
appeared in patches across the backs of his hands and crept up his
forearms. He felt his strength returning and drew in a deep breath,
the air cool and soothing against his throat. The brimstone scent
of the witch’s magic lessened, though he presumed it was simply
because he’d grown used to it more so than he’d blocked it out. He
pushed more energy into his shield and it responded eagerly,
glimmers of green deflecting the fire buffeting him. Unlike before,
however, he no longer felt so overwhelmed. It was clear, though,
that the witch had sensed a change in his defenses, the gout of
flame increasing its pressure as she strove to break through.

Unsure of exactly what well he’d tapped to
draw upon his newfound power, or how long it might last, Sebastian
knew he had to do something besides wait for his shield to buckle.
At range, no matter how much magic he had at his disposal, the Red
Witch held the advantage. She would wear him down unless he figured
a way to get close where his own skills were greater. He grinned as
an idea came to him.

He pressed his will to elongate the shield,
stretching its protective covering further into the air. He worked
quick, knowing the larger the surface, the more brittle it would
become. Guiding the shaping with a finger, Sebastian drew a line at
the base of the shield, its edge curling out against the earth as
though becoming a great scoop. Once the energy had drawn out far
enough, he concentrated on keeping it in place and drew his sword
with his left hand. The ice at his palm cracked loudly as he closed
his hand about the hilt, tiny shards falling away. The blisters had
been soothed, but he felt them split under the motion.

His breath held in his lungs, should his
plan fail and he leap straight into the flames, Sebastian counted
to three and put his plan in action. He ducked and charged forward,
willing the low end of his shield to pivot as though it were an
awkward catapult. The scooped end snapped upward, flinging the
maelstrom of fiery energy back the direction it had come.

As he hoped, the Red Witch recognized his
effort and ceased her attack, the flames flickering out into
harmless sparks. Sebastian ran beneath the dying embers, their heat
dissipated with the energy that fueled them. In a just an instant,
he was past the show of lights. His shield dropped away as he
shifted his sword to his right hand. He was ten feet from the witch
before she spied him through the smoke.

She shrieked and backed away, bringing her
defenses to bear. Sebastian leapt at her, his sword in the lead.
The quicksilver blade slithered through her shield, the tip cutting
a shallow line across her shoulder as she spun away. He felt the
shove of kinetic energy and rolled with it, cursing the near miss
as he struck the ground several yards away and scrambled to his
feet.

Sebastian slipped behind the nearby
cover of a tree just as an arc of silvered light slid past, carving
a chunk of wood from the trunk the size of his skull. It fell to
the ground, charred and smoking. He ducked low and reversed his
direction when he heard the sizzle of another burst approaching,
shooting out from the other side of the tree as the energy cut
through its remains. It creaked and fell back, the last of its
strength giving way with a loud
snap
that rang in his ears.

The witch stood but a few yards away, her
confidence and anger driving her to be reckless, certainly not
believing Sebastian could be her equal. He barreled toward her,
intending to prove her wrong. He threw his left hand out before
him, flickers of light dancing frantic at his fingertips. The Red
Witch planted her feet and threw up a shield faster than Sebastian
had ever seen anyone conjure. Though impressed, he smiled; her
quickness wasn’t the advantage she likely believed it to be.

The sparkles at his hand nothing more than a
feint, a parlor trick of light, Sebastian darted around the edge of
her shield, which had been crafted to protect only directly ahead
in her haste, and struck out at her. She realized her mistake
nearly too late, stumbling back as his sword cut deep into her
forearm.

She lashed out with another kinetic shove,
but Sebastian had expected it, spinning away as its energy
dispersed into the woods at his back. He went after her without
hesitation. The witch bounced off a tree and staggered in her
attempt to flee, fire swirling to life at her hand despite her
flight. Sebastian thrust at her eyes, feeling her energy pressing
against the blow to steer it away. Her gaze on his sword, he kicked
her hard in the chest. The rush of air that spewed from her lungs
as she doubled over was the most gratifying sound he’d ever
heard.

The witch was flung backward, her robes
fluttering behind her like a comet’s tail. She struck the ground
and rolled, kicking up leaves and mud as she tried to right
herself. Sebastian had no intention of letting her.

He raced after, closing fast. A heartbeat
before he was in range, he drew back his blade and swung with
everything he had. She tumbled wild, her eyes meeting his as his
sword streaked through the air. A wash of brimstone struck
Sebastian full in the face and he realized too late her speed had
turned the tide.

There was a stinging vibration at his hand
and a flash of red, and then he was flying. His body tingled, his
vision washed out with brilliant whiteness. He blinked to clear it,
the tree trunk slamming into his back giving him no opportunity.
There was a sharp crack and Sebastian’s head snapped back, an
agonizing pressure at his chest and spine.

He felt the sudden cessation of movement,
his body settling. Then he felt nothing.

Seventeen

“
I can take you no further,” Victor
told Emerald as he came to a halt.

“
But—”

He pressed his finger against her lips.
“Shhh. You mustn’t argue, Emerald.” He drew close so the general
could not hear. “The realm has grown dangerous of late. With your
disappearance from Corilea and the attack of the warlock, your
mother has grown frantic. You will only be safe under the
protection of Elizabeth. You must go to her for our son.” He set
his hand gently upon Emerald’s belly, his eyebrows raised.

She pressed into his palm, fighting back the
tears that threatened to overthrow her eyes. “When will I see you
again?” Her throat seemed to strangle the words, barely letting
them past her lips.

“
I will come for you soon enough. Do
not worry. I will keep the witches from your trail so you may give
birth in peace. Trust in me, Emerald. I beg this of
you.”

She wrapped her arms about his massive chest
and drew in tight, savoring the warmth of him. His beard nagged at
her cheek but she didn’t care. She’d been so long without his
comfort she wanted to savor every moment so she might have its
memory once he was gone. Though she’d grown used to their furtive
relationship, hidden from the eyes of any who might be watching,
she had never been without him nearby until her journey began.
She’d spent her whole life with Victor in the shadows of her world.
Their secretive love only made the yearning for his company deeper,
more torturous when it had been removed so suddenly upon
discovering her pregnancy. He had become her all, and that had been
ripped away, Emerald cast out into the wilderness with only
strangers about. Her loneliness was misery.

“
I must leave now. It isn’t safe for
me to remain any longer,” Victor repeated as he eased her
away.

She groaned, letting her hands trail down
his chest until just her fingers just barely made contact. She met
his dark gaze and nodded, lowering her chin. “Soon. Make it
soon.”

“
Soon,” he repeated, turning his face
to the general. “I would ask a favor of you, Darius, not for me,
but for Emerald.”

She glanced at the general and saw him
snarl, and then settle his lips when he spied her looking. Their
hostility had not abated.

“
What would you ask of me, Lord of the
Hunt?”

“
That you lead Emerald to the
resistance; to Elizabeth.”

“
They know of the Red Witch’s arrival
near their camp and have fled. I do not know where they’ve
gone.”

Victor nodded. “But I do. I ask only that
you guide Emerald there safely, and I will provide you with their
location.”

“
Why don’t you take her
yourself?”

A quiet chuckle oozed from Victor. “For the
same reason you call me traitor. The same compulsions that make me
a slave also work to make me the witches’ knocked arrow. Should I
happen upon Elizabeth, I would be compelled to engage her, unable
to turn away until one of us lies dead. That would hardly compel
her followers to treat Emerald with kindness.”