The Shadow Banshees had forced him open wider, which was why it had caused him so much pain. Their emotional noise had been too powerful and had caught him off guard. He’d been too focused on Hazel, worried about where she was and why she was taking so long. Rookie mistake. But when it came to Hazel the witch, he was discovering that his usual defenses were all off. He craved her emotion, and the chance to bolster her powers. He’d never wanted to be close to someone like he did with her—physically, emotionally, magically. Even if it made him so vulnerable that it distracted him, cost him. She was just that tempting.
She was within eyesight of him now. Not straying too far, looking like she was completely focused on moving forward, which was wise considering how treacherous the non-existent pathway was. Trees sprouted branches that hung low and were hidden among leaves. Moss made the rocks and roots slippery and shadows played with dark crevices, making holes and divots appear to be solid. He glanced over the group of interns, each lost in their own thoughts and staggered in a kind of line, moving just as tentatively, but with a steady pace of urgency that Hazel encouraged. The interns were a motley crew and had probably all faced adversity in some form or another, based on what he’d learned about them. They were probably all thinking they were independent and alone before this field trip, each carrying the burden of their unique powers and experiences.
Hazel would make a good leader for them. With all of her innate power and years of training, she had a regal air about her that demanded obedience, or at least it would once she figured out how to use it without pissing everyone off. She had been raised to embrace and celebrate her uniqueness, something the others would need to learn as well. If Duke knew anything, it was that White Willow only recruited the best Healers from witch families, the ones with the most potential. They were at the start of their journeys but he had no doubt each of them would rise.
He scanned the group, checking their emotional peaks and rested on Hazel, of course. For now she was pouring out a mixture of trepidation and a bubbling of excitement. It was childlike in a way, the curiosity to discover what lay ahead. Something he had always loved about her, even when she had been just a village girl. For all her many talents, she was just a baby in the witch world. Being in the field would give her a crash course in what magic could really do and would hopefully show her a life outside of the Circle that was worth fighting for.
“What is that?” Hazel asked, her words echoing in his head.
He flinched, snapped out of his thoughts and turned to look at where she was pointing.
A small clearing appeared out of the fog. The ground levelled unnaturally against the slope of the hill. Grave stones poked up, roughened markers ranging in size, some beaten and broken down by the elements and years while others looked brand new.
“We’re getting closer.” Duke waved for them to slow as they entered. The ground was soft, some mounds looking too fresh for his liking. “Skirt the cemetery. We’ll meet on the other side.”
“Some of these are kids.” Bas had ignored the command and was standing in front a newer grouping of stones, crouched to read the inscriptions. “All six of these are children.” He waved his hand to indicate which ones.
Duke frowned as he moved closer, being careful not to tread on the graves. There was lingering sadness in the fog, which wasn’t unusual for a cemetery. But it was fresh, so fresh that Duke wasn’t surprised to see the dates on the gravestones. “Whatever is happening here caused this.”
The children ranged in age from a year old to five years old. Each had died within a few days of one another. Not all were from the same family but in a village like this, family by blood was just a technicality.
“Hazel, do you get a sense of magic here? Anything lingering that we need to know about?” Duke looked over his shoulder at her.
She had her arms wrapped around her body, her face pale, tears welling. “The fog, it’s muffling things.”
Duke nodded. He’d had to work harder to penetrate the fog as well. “Push past it. Focus on the graves. Here, come here, touch the ground.”
Hazel looked about ready to shake her head and step back, but in a flash resolve came over her. She flexed her hands and moved forward, coming to crouch next to Bas. With a determined look at Duke, she lay her hands on the fresh mound, letting her fingers sink just a bit into the freshly turned earth.
Her eyes were closed for seconds before she jolted up, jumping back from the grave, dusting her hands off like she’d touched fire.
“What is it?” Duke moved to her side, holding her arm, feeling the vibration of her power, tempted as usual to open himself up to it and let it consume him completely. “What did you sense?”
She stopped brushing her fingers and looked at him. “It’s bad magic, Duke. What killed these kids, it’s really bad.”
“Dark magic?” Bas asked, still crouching by the grave, his hand on one of the stones.
“Black magic?” Tate asked, his voice quivering a little.
She looked from Duke to each of the others, slowly shaking her head. “I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s darker than dark, blacker than black. It’s like an abyss.”
“Ah, shit.” Duke cursed, turning away from the group. “We need to get to the village.”
“What is it, Duke?” Hazel asked, fear riding her question.
“Succubi, exceptionally deadly ones.”
19
“More specifically, Succubi Magika, and likely their counterpart Incubi Magika too,” Duke said.
“Magic seducers?” Bas stood slowly from his crouch. “Like instead of sex, they want power?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Someone in the village must have invoked them. They can only come if called. They’re sneaky though, and entice in devious ways. They travel in packs, sending out scouts to find pockets of magic then target the outliers, those witches who have been outcast from a tribe or who are sick and vulnerable already. Could be why we’re seeing children here. They’d go for vulnerability over power hub. The child invokes, encourages a bond. Once the Magika latch on to their host, they suck them dry of all magic. Slowly at first, while they put the call out to their kind, like an infection. Once one breaks the defenses of the tribe, the others can get in quickly. The child encourages others to invoke, and it spreads faster like that. We need to warn Bridget and Chanda.” Duke looked stricken with worry. “They target humans—”
“Because they’re weak?” Bas suggested.
“Because their magic is diluted and they’re easier to manipulate. Ignorance, even in the Pagan tribes, is deadly. Another reason why outreach is so important.” Duke sounded perpetually annoyed with Bas. “In any case, Chanda and her Chaos would be a magnet for these beasties. We need to make sure they’re aware of what we’re walking into.”
“We can use this, can’t we?” Hazel reached into her shirt and pulled out the summoning amulet. Her mother had meant for it to be a means of connection with Hazel but she knew it could be repurposed if necessary.
Duke narrowed his eyes at the stone in her hand, then widened them just as suddenly. “Where did you get that?”
“My mother…”
He stormed to her before snatching it out of her hand, almost yanking it clear off of her neck in the process.
“Ouch, hang on, it’s attached.”
He loosened his grip with a flick of his eyes that maybe was an apology, then resumed staring at the stone, rubbing his thumb over it repeatedly. “Ten years…” he mumbled.
“It’s a summoning stone right? My mother gave it to me when I was a child in case I needed to connect to her.”
Duke looked up at her then, his lips pulled into a grimace. “It’s not just for summoning. Son of a bitch!” He growled. “Take it off!”
“What? No!” Hazel tried to get the stone back, wrapping her fingers around Duke’s and forcefully trying to break his grip. He wouldn’t let go though. She didn’t like the stone under normal circumstances but now that he was making su
ch a big deal, she didn’t want to give it up. “Hey, let go. My mother gave this to me.”
“Do you know what this does?” he spat, his eyes blasting fury.
She flinched, realizing that there was something she was missing. “It summons?” She pulled her hand away.
“Yeah, it summons, on a basic level, but that’s not what it’s meant to do. That’s not the primary use.” He raised it up, shaking it a bit as he did. “I found this stone ten years ago. It was mine and it was taken from me.”
“You think I stole it? That my mother stole it?”
“No, I think it was given to her, but that’s not the point.” He yanked on the chain, muttering a spell as he did so that it snapped from her neck.
“Hey!”
“This stone doesn’t just summon, Hazel, it siphons. Your mother gave this to you, right? When you were a child?”
Hazel nodded.
“And she told you to wear it, to not take it off?”
Wear it always, Hazel, so I know you’re safe. Hazel recalled her mother’s words, repeated so many times when she was growing up, and nodded again.
“She’s taking power from you, feeding off of you with it.” He covered the amulet with his fist, out of sight and slipped it into his pocket. “She’s siphoning power from you. Stealing it from you. You didn’t give her permission, right?”
“She wouldn’t do that—”
“Of course she would! She’d do just about anything to use what you have.” Duke raised his voice. The others were crowding now, watching the show.
“Duke, I don’t—”
“Why are you so blind to this, Hazel? Why the undying loyalty? That amulet—when I found it, I knew it was priceless. All you have to do is place it on or near a magical target and you can take however much of their magic without them knowing. Your mother can do that with just a touch, I’m sure, but why rely on that when you have a gem that will do it for you? Like she’s plugged in to you always, even if you’re not in the same location.”
“My mother would never—”
“Yes she would, Haz,” Mahdyia stepped forward, looking like she was swallowing something awful, a look of pity on her face. “She would do that. She’d suck you dry if she could. I’ve seen it, the hunger on her face when she looks at you. When she touches you. I believe what Duke is saying. What the Hag said. Your mother is a selfish woman only looking out for her best interests. That’s why she wants you to join the Circle on her behalf. Not because you’re special, not because of your power, but because she’s too selfish to do it herself.” Mahdyia touched her arm. “She did it to me, when she punished me for getting us into trouble. She didn’t just forbid me to use magic, or block me from seeing you—she took my powers from me. Scrubbed me. That’s why I’d disappear for a month or so when I was punished. If you saw me, you’d know and she couldn’t have that. It’s what she does, Hazel. She takes what she wants. That she’d skim off the top of your power without your knowledge or permission doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“Mads.” Hazel gulped past the lump in her throat. Her head was spinning. She wanted that stone back. She wanted to ask her mother what was going on. But in her heart she knew. The words of the Hag rolled through her head.
Destiny is what you make it. Nothing is set in stone.
Mother, what have you done?
“You feel it, don’t you?” Duke said. “Now that the stone is gone? You feel the void, right?” He pulled the amulet out again and swung it toward her.
She felt a distinct jolt then, small, easily missed but it was there. She felt it and nodded. “Am I really that naive?” she whispered.
“To trust?” Duke asked.
“Yes,” Mahdyia said bluntly.
Hazel flinched. “Take it away.”
“Where’d you get that?” Bridget was there, anger spewing as she marched toward the group.
Duke curled his fingers around the amulet.
“My mother gave it to me,” Hazel answered for him.
“Why does he have it?” Bridget pointed at Duke.
“I gave it to him. We were going to use it to summon you.” Hazel held her hand out for the amulet. She motioned for Duke to lay it on her palm. “I wasn’t sure how to use it.”
“Well, I’m here now, so put it back on.”
Hazel gulped, shook her head at Duke’s open mouth. Silencing him as she took the amulet. “I’ll put it in my pocket for now, I’d rather not have something hanging around my neck.” Which was what she did, slipping into the pocket in her pants.
Bridget nodded with apparent satisfaction then turned back to Duke. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Magika?” Duke said casually. “Yeah, no shit. Where’s Chanda?”
“I’m right here.” She came out of the trees, ambling slowly, looking like she’d been run over by a train, her hair dishevelled, clumps pulled from her ponytail, face streaked with dirt.
“A swarm of them attacked as we neared the village. We managed to beat them down but I can’t say that’ll be the last of them.” Bridget motioned to the opposite side of the graveyard. “The village is infested.”
Hazel moved over to Chanda, assessing for visible injury as she did. The girl was barely standing on her feet, her body swaying with each breath. “You okay?”
Chanda closed her eyes, using a tree to brace herself. “I’ve had better days.”
“Anything get inside you?” Hazel whispered. She reached out with her power, trying to detect anything amiss laced within Chanda’s signature.
“No, they tried though. Came at me hard and fast. But that was part of my training, an inoculation for little beasties like that. I’m immune…or as immune as possible. It just took the wind out of me, that’s all.” Her eyes were wet, a stray tear tumbling. “Scary as hell.”
Hazel glanced over her shoulder to see Bridget and Duke engaged in a heated discussion. Duke was pointing toward Hazel so she was sure she knew what the argument was about.
“Can you show us how to do that? The inoculation? It’s like a shield, right?” Hazel asked as she turned back to Chanda.
Chanda nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”
Hazel motioned for the others to join them and quickly, as the spell was a simple one, they built shields of protection against the Magika.
“Join hands,” Hazel said. “I’m going to make the shield connect so that we’ll be stronger.”
“I can help with that,” Bas added, taking Hazel’s hand as he spoke.
She nodded to him, a silent agreement to work together. “Repeat the spell one more time. Don’t worry about what Bas and I are doing—just be open to it, okay?”
Each of them nodded. Hazel squeezed Bas’s hand and then they started once again. The interns were vulnerable. Even Hazel was vulnerable for all her book smarts. Untrained for this kind of thing. She understood that’s what the field trip was all about, exposure to experiences so that the interns could develop not only a repertoire but also immunity to more wild forms of magic. Without this experience, she would have never even known that the Magika existed.
There were so many entities and creatures out in the real world that it would take centuries of reading and studying to learn about them all. The shield they were building together would work to protect them as a group, allowing for each of them to draw on one another if needed, like a moving force-field that strengthened the weakest in a time of need. It would work as long as they were in the vicinity of one another, whether holding hands or not.
All of this she would miss once she joined the Circle. Experience that would make her a better Healer, a better witch.
She gulped, shoved that thought aside. No time for wallowing.
Hazel infused her magic, feeling Bas’s touch weave it all together and attach to each of the interns. It was a strong bond, one that was almost indestructible thanks to their combined efforts.
Once they were done, Hazel could feel the buzz of renewed energy. Like she was connected, if only for a mo
ment, to each of them. That was the other thing she would never experience again, the connection to other Healers. Not like she was right now. The loneliness she’d always felt had abated the more she got to know these interns. And in a year she’d have to willingly walk back into that kind of loneliness again.
With a sigh, she let her hand slip from Mahdyia’s but kept a hold of Bas’s. “I’m sorry for intruding on your thoughts yesterday.” She squeezed his hand before letting it go. “Sometimes it’s hard to control.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Okay. Tell me, what did you see?”
Hazel shrugged, heat rising to her cheeks. “Nothing clear, really. I mean, a lot of anger, sadness.” Images had flashed for her: fire, screaming, a cat. Now that she knew part of his story, it made sense. “You were there, when they burned her. I know you said you weren’t but you have memories of it.” She touched his arm. “You know you’re not responsible, right? I mean, I felt that the clearest—the guilt you carry but it’s not your fault. You didn’t set that fire.”
His expression darkened, any openness that had been there momentarily closed now. “You don’t know shit, Hazel. Really. You think you do but you don’t. Stay out of my head, lady.” His hostility slammed her hard as he stormed away.
And then there was Bas, who maybe she wouldn’t miss so much once she joined the Circle. She closed her eyes against his anger, sucked in a breath, then blew it out and opened her eyes.
“Hey, you okay?” Duke was there, a comforting hand on her back.
She turned to him, confusion clouding everything as she looked into his eyes. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“That stone, as long as it’s on you, your mother can access your powers with it.” Duke ran his finger along her pocket. “I can take it out right now and no one will see.”
Hazel felt a flash of panic, and guilt. Such conflicting emotions. It was hard to reconcile them with everything else. “It’s better I keep it.” She clenched her hand around his to stop him from digging it out. “So she doesn’t suspect.”
The Witches of White Willow Page 16
