The Seventh Spirit

by Adam-Clay Webb

  “Hmmm… Seems I’m grossly outnumbered, five to one,” she said out loud, then exhaled deeply.

  “Both of you, stay back,” Herriot told Kyle and Clover, walking toward the queen.

  “How’d you get here?” Clover struggled to ask, and hugged her brother tightly. He felt her heart banging against his chest. He grabbed the back of her head, pressing the girl against him.

  “Have to leave the stories for later,” he said, releasing her abruptly, clenching tightly his sword. “Seems these witches have some history.” Mike, Lex, Kyle and Clover became spectators as the two women walked toward each other.

  “You’re more heartless than I thought you were,” Herriot began, a look of disgust on her face. “Just how far would you go for power? You conspire to kill even your own sister in the name of—”

  “Half-sister that is,” the queen corrected.

  “You’re queen of the most powerful province in Libson!” Herriot reminded her, sounding more proud than jealous, “But you can never be satisfied, can you?! Your greed… it brings you to your tragic end!” The old witch’s eyes fired up, and her now open palms glowed with purple mana.

  The queen’s face collapsed and her cheeky, cocky expression transformed dramatically. “Sixth grade mana…” the woman marvelled. “Heh!” Her expression returned to what it was a moment before, as delightful thoughts entered her mind. “No matter… I will destroy you with the power I have collected from tens of sorcerers across the land, and I will finally be powerful enough to unlock the final stage of sorcery! I will be the most powerful magician ever to trot this world!” Her grin widened and her eyes bulged, giving her the look Lex always imagined old witches would have. “My husband, my king! Ha! This queenship, is all just a stepping stone! Just like you, Herriot! You and these shall give me the power I need to conquer even Notherland, and be greater even than the legacy that Oga left behind!”

  With narrowed eyes, Herriot stared at the mad look her sister had, the clothes and jewels she wore certainly not fitting her. “I kill you unwillingly, my dear little sister,” Herriot said in a sullen, cheerless voice.

  “Dream on, Herriot!” the queen blasted, and flung her hands toward her half-sister. As a dense bulk of bright red mana flew from the witch’s hands toward Herriot, she uttered a terribly strong command, “Edanerg Anamwar!”

  “Esrever!” Herriot shouted, holding both hands out, purple mana glowing about her open palms. All in a second’s fraction, as the red mana enveloped Herriot, it flew back toward its sender. The flood of mana returned at double its original speed and strength. As the mana reached the queen, there was a loud and bright explosion, even breaking up the ground beneath it. The queen’s reflexive shield attempted to neutralize the blast, but wasn’t nearly strong enough. The intrigued spectators watched as the queen was sent hurling through the air at a dangerous speed and force. The brightness from the explosion was still glaring at them. Instead of making the expected harsh landing the youngsters expected, the queen vanished from the air in a newly formed cloud of red mana. Herriot spun around immediately, fearing for the others around, but the queen had reappeared where Herriot least expected, right where she would have landed.

  “Behind you!” Clover shouted in warning, pointing. Herriot spun around quickly.

  “Anam Resal!” the queen commanded, her palms pushed forward, her wrists touching. A bright red beam of power shot out from her palms towards Herriot, and she knew dodging would have caused trouble for those behind her.

  “Emas!” Herriot quickly commanded, mirroring her opponent’s stance. Purple mana rushed from Herriot toward the approaching beam of raw power. As the two bodies of pure magical energy clashed, a blinding flash of red and purple light exploded, spreading for miles in every direction. The witches squinted reflexively, making serious efforts to keep their eyes open any at all. Though they had trained to see through bright mana for many years, their vision was only slightly better than the others’. The witches’ hair and clothes flew behind them in the great wind the clashing powers created. Small stones rose up from the ground in the tension only to be sublimed by the power. The queen released a straining roar and she skated back, digging up hard rock with her shoes, as she tried to overcome a power that was beyond even hers. With clenched teeth, the older witch kept her composure. The bright purple flare that defined the meeting point of the two beams crept toward the Magmalian queen. None of the watchers could look at the mana directly – it seemed brighter than a thousand suns. Even larger rocks rose to be consumed by the rumbling beams of mana.

  “Anam Garadan!” the queen struggled to activate, and a red shield encircled her. The purple beam, without hesitance, struck the red guard of mana that the queen had put up. The purple energy spread itself around the shield, looking to consume it. Kyle shielded his eyes, the others looked away. For a moment, nothing could be identified. There was a glaring radiance of purple and red where the shield was struck, and there was a loud clash, like lightning had hit the earth. A cloud of dust arose from the ground as something hit it forcefully. The queen skated along the earth, and there was a loud snap as she hit and wrecked a hardwood tree. The glaring mana disappeared, leaving behind in the distance a bleeding, dead-looking woman, purple mana, like smoke, rising from her burnt body and torn clothes.

  Herriot lowered her hands slowly with a sunken heart. “Damn it, Miriam,” she whispered, looking into the distance at her sister, her eyes dim and her lips arching down slightly. She disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of mana, reappearing across meters of rocky, dusty land to where her sister lay. The burning, bleeding, frayed woman was on her bottom, her back resting on the broken bark of a huge tree, which lounged over her like it would soon topple. Blood dripped down from the queen’s mouth, and her face no longer had a confident look, but was now pitiful, at least to her sister.

  Lex and the others quickly ran toward the two women. “Sis…ter…” the queen strained to mutter in exhalation, like she was breathing her last breath, “Forgive me… Heal me… Stay with me…” the woman whimpered. As Herriot looked down at her little sister with compassion, she saw before her the innocent, jolly, clumsy little girl she knew around half a century ago. Her eyes welling up with tears, Herriot slowly stooped and took the bleeding woman in her arms, then gently lay her down a little distance from the limping tree. Herriot’s sister wheezed like she was at the end of her rope.

  “Relax, Miriam,” Herriot whispered, and for a brief moment, the familiar comforting voice of her big sis calmed her, and she remembered more vividly than ever her sister scraping her out of a ditch, saying the same old words, laying her down the same way. The elderly witch closed her eyes and tenderly rested her hands on her sister’s chest and head. Purple mana covered her hands and soon enveloped the queen’s body. The queen shone brightly, and made a relieving sigh.

  “Ahhhhh…..” her eyes closed as she felt the soothing and familiar power of her sister. As wounds were mended and bones were shifted back into place, for a moment, her jealousy was cured. Looking into the blissful past, she saw herself glowing in the green, healing mana, and she saw her sister’s smile. ‘You’ll be healing yourself in no time, Miriam…’ she heard her sister say, ‘you’re a witch, too. Don’t ever forget that.’

  Then, the Magmalian queen flung herself back to reality. The bright purple mana faded from around her, and her pains had vanished, and her grave wounds left only vague scars. Herriot grabbed her forehead and gasped, veins standing vividly about her arms and head. There was another poof, as Miriam’s body disappeared from beneath Herriot in a cloud of red mana. “I’m sorry, big sis,” a sincere-sounding voice said from behind her. Herriot stood and turned to her sister slowly. The queen’s hands were raging with red mana. There was no look of anger or even disappointment on Herriot’s face, just one of grief and regret. “Senakken!” the queen commanded, sending red mana toward the drained, limping woman. There was a bright flash, as Herriot was struck with a suspension spell she had taugh
t her little sister decades ago. “Recilsanam!” Miriam commanded. As the words were uttered, a gleaming red sword that seemed to be made of red mana appeared in her hands. She stepped toward the unmoving Herriot and made a malignant swing at her.

  The red sword cut cleanly through a thin cloud of purple mana. Herriot was already standing right behind the queen, her right hand held out as if holding a sword that was plunged into the queen’s spine. “Emas!” she commanded, and a bright red sword appeared in her hand, already piercing through Miriam. The frightened queen looked down at the bright red sword that jutted out through her chest. She shivered and her eyes went wild, and blood gushed out of her. Herriot, her eyes, her face suddenly mirroring the queen’s, released her sword and staggered backwards. Both swords vanished in bursts of red mana, but the horrid wound caused by Herriot’s remained. Herriot grabbed the falling woman quickly from behind, sobbing her name and shaking. She felt her sister’s blood wash down on her hands, and she knew that there were no more chances.

  Still shaking, Herriot gently rested the corpse on the ground, and closed the queen’s wide eyes. Clover ran up to the shivering woman and grabbed her tightly. As she held on to the young witch, the tears flowed down her face freely. Kyle and Mike looked around alertly as the battleground faded away, leaving behind the room they were in a moment before.

  Lying stiff on the ground before them was the dead Magmalian queen. No-one needed to ask if that would become a pressing concern. Before much thinking could have been done, the royal guard dressed in full white opened the door. He stood there for a moment with a whitewashed face, staring at the dead queen in the pool of blood and the silent criminals that looked almost equally frightened.

  “Murderers!” the man shouted in fright. Kyle rushed to the bellowing man, sword gripped firmly in hand, ready to permanently silence him. The nervous guard drew his sword in defence. The adrenaline-powered Kyle knocked the veteran’s sword away easily, then ran his sword through him. Blood squirted from the man’s chest and nearly pushed Kyle back. Kyle withdrew his sword quickly, his hand shaking. He gasped with gaping eyes at the falling corpse.

  What the hell did I just do?

  Clover stared at her brother with fright almost comparable to his. Mike and Lex looked down at the body in the river of blood. The mingled bloods of the guard and the queen painted a grotesque scene.

  “Come, everyone!” Herriot shouted shakily, dragging everyone to her. Tens of guards rushed into the room quickly, armed with class A swords and the licence to kill almost at will, but they were a second late. A cloud of purple mana ushered the escapers out, and they had just appeared at the foot of the Royal Tower.

  “Damn it,” Herriot panted, “I’m drained – can’t even walk.” Clover held up the almost falling woman.

  “Off with their heads!” a voice of authority and finality commanded from above them. They looked up, and pointing down at them with fire in his eyes was the crowned king of Magma Town. The anger that wrinkled his face seemed infinite, and seemed enough to make the coolest of men lose it. Soldiers were already fast moving toward them on black steeds, and quick shuffling could be heard going on inside the tower.

  “Join hands!” Herriot told them, and they clung together quickly. Herriot slammed her eyes shut and forced all the mana she could find into anther spaceshift. Red mana engulfed them suddenly, but this shift didn’t take them as far away as the witch had hoped; Herriot’s mana had run out completely. They appeared in a thin cloud of blue mana, just meters away from Greyner’s guard squad, which immediately gave chase, quickly leaving behind them the massive bronze gates.

  “Those rascals are my money! Don’t let them get away!” Greyner blasted with gaping eyes, fearing that had they escaped, he’d not have gotten the money the queen had promised him. Lex turned and sent two iceballs at two of the chasing soldiers – some of the lawmen were on horses, while the others were on foot behind them. Even Lex was surprised at how quickly the ice wrapped itself around not just the men, but the horses, making them seem to have been frozen by decades of arctic winter. Greyner stopped immediately, standing between his frozen men, shaking.

  “Go! After them, you idiots!” he barked at the men who were stopping with him. Two of the soldiers nervously ran toward the strange enemies, who had appeared from nowhere, and who had the power to freeze two men and two horses in the blink of an eye. Mike quickly caught a swung sword in his fist of iron, and pulled it toward him. The frightened man was tugged along with the sword. Mike blasted the soldier with his left fist, which though was uncoated with the strange metal, was nothing to be taken lightly. Clover summoned up two bright bodies of mana, further frightening the men. Still, one of them ran toward her and attacked with his sword valiantly. Before Clover could do anything, Kyle moved in before her and blocked the man’s sword with his.

  “Clover! Save your mana! Come! One last shift!” Herriot called. The distracted soldier took a heavy blow to the face by Mike’s right hand. Clover, dragging her brother along, ran toward Herriot. Soldiers, by now, were approaching in great numbers from both before and behind. Men on horses moved past Greyner’s petrified company, and others tried to surround them from the opposite direction. The group clung tightly again. Herriot grabbed on to Clover. “I hope you can endure this,” Herriot told her, then, in an instant, they vanished in a cloud of green mana.

  They reappeared some distance from the bronze gates, but Herriot had no clue as to where they were. Lex grabbed on to Clover as she seemed to be falling. “Clover!” he called to her, shaking her.

  Herriot felt for her pulse at her neck with two fingers quickly, then uttered a heavy sigh. “Her mana barely managed to shift us out, but she’s alive; she’ll need lots of rest before she can—”

  “Follow me!” Mike blasted, pointing at soldiers rushing toward them. They were in a crowded marketplace that Mike, of course, happened to know like the back of his hands. People screamed and jumped out of the way as the group of soldiers whipped their horses hard. Stalls of fruits and vegetables and meat toppled, and hungry men grabbed what they could in the chaos. Even Mike found himself biting into a huge plum. Men cursed and hollered, making the chaos even thicker, but chaos wouldn’t be to the runners’ disadvantage at a time like this.

  “Follow!” Mike shouted. He turned through a narrow street, knowing well the network of alleys. They struggled to keep up with the boy who was almost as fast as a horse. They jumped over obstacles they couldn’t bother to recognize, keeping their balance as they moved faster and faster. The nearing sound of clopping hooves made them flash their eyes behind them while running.

  “Idiot!” Kyle blasted at Mike, “You on their side, taking us in here?! We should’ve split up out there and gotten lost in the crowd!”

  “If we move fast enough, we can lose them in the alleys! There’s a whole labyrinth! These corners are our best bet at losing them! This way!” Mike led them around another angular bend, and then another. The dirty alley-walls and piles of garbage were just blurs in their peripherals as they bolted.

  Kyle turned quickly, seeing Clover was too far behind. He ran up to her and scooped her up like an excited husband.

  “Hurry!” Mike yelled, as the horsemen were again in sight. Damn, we could’ve lost them just now, Mike thought.

  “Kill them!” the soldier at the front commanded, and they drew arrows in quickly brandished bows.

  “Just run!” Mike blasted, “the corner’s up ahead!” Arrows zoomed toward the youngsters and the old woman, but the perfect combination of desperation and luck had them make the corner unharmed.

  “The next corner will lead us to a crowded opening!” Mike said, “Just stay alive ‘til then!”

  “Shit,” Kyle muttered to himself, “that corner’s like a million miles ahead.” He glanced back again at the nearing soldiers still volleying them with arrows. He sliced through an incoming arrow quickly, then another, continuing to run with the others. The corner was by now just a few steps away, but
each step was more frightening than the last. Herriot made a sudden, sharp cry of pain, then there was a worrisome thud. The group looked back quickly. Clover tried to run back to where the bleeding woman had fallen. Her brother grabbed her sternly. Having no time to fuss, he took her up and flung her over his shoulder, running with her. She looked in tears at the old woman, her teacher, trying to get up. The soldiers ignored the fallen witch as the stampede finished her. Clover’s eyes widened as she watched the horrendous scene. The heavy hooves plunged down into the witch, crushing her, pressing into the dusty ground her back, legs, arms, crushing her skull.

  Lex turned and faced the dozens of approaching horses, stopping completely, obeying the insistent spirit inside him. “Go! Go! Go!” he shouted. Mike grabbed on to Kyle’s arm, pulling him around the bend.

  “Lex!” Clover shouted, tears falling from her face – she couldn’t imagine losing him too. She wriggled and squirmed, but could not escape Kyle’s firm grip. The Icemaker shut his eyes for a moment. He felt like minutes had passed before he opened them. As his eyelids rose, dense, powerful darkness was revealed in his eyes.

  Lex stretched his hands until he touched both walls of the narrow alley. Still chasing, the soldiers didn’t hesitate to shoot more arrows at the boy. Faint black glows surrounded each arrow, as they did the bits of ice not too long before, and their movement stopped, and they fell at his feet. His bulging veins showed the potent black energy that was gushing through his blood. Black ice sped along the walls and even the ground toward the Magmalians. The soldiers quickly moved away from the walls as much as possible, trying to steer clear of the strange black ice. The alley darkened as a black mist emanated from the icy walls. Men cried out in fright and terror as shadowy, chilly hands, obviously not human, with fingers two feet long, emerged from the walls and from the ground, grabbing on to the soldiers and their horses. Almost as soon as each enemy was grabbed, black ice rushed out with a ghastly sound, almost like a demonic whisper, freezing them, freezing their horses in an opaque ice that earthly fires could not even think to melt. Horses stopped in frightened neighing, not understanding what was happening. Not that the soldiers were any more enlightened. The darkness from Lex’s eyes faded quickly, and he fell to his knees. Six soldiers and their horses were frozen solid, but there were a few who had escaped the power of the black ice, the power of the black-eyed boy.