Witch's Four

by Jewel Killian

  "Why can't you heal me? You're a healer."

  "All healing magic is banned within the confines of the care wards."

  "Then what exactly is the purpose of a care ward?"

  The healer looked at Delilah as if she were the slowest student in class. "To care for the afflicted. However, it is difficult to tell which injuries are the result of foul play and which are a result of humans. If one of us were to treat a patient thinking they'd simply been cursed by a jealous neighbor and were wrong, we'd not only take on their affliction, the patient would worsen. Now, I don't know how it's done where you're from, but I don't take chances with the health and safety of my nurses and aides. We only offer palliative measures here."

  Delilah's stomach sank as the reality of this place settled within her.

  She hadn't thrown herself and Joxen into a hospital. She'd thrown them into a hospice. "I'm so sorry. I misunderstood what this place was. I'll go as soon as my mate wakes."

  The healer gave Del a quick nod, then hurried off to tend to a real patient.

  7

  Halsten

  Halsten couldn't help the smile that ghosted across his lips.

  "It's not funny," Delilah said with a glare as she reached for another mini chocolate croissant.

  He pressed his lips together, a vain effort to suppress a persistent and inappropriate giggle. "Of course not," he murmured from behind his coffee cup. Florence, it seemed, had finally won her long-fought battle convincing Sandrine to serve afternoon tea, as evidenced by the selection of light cakes and mini pastries, along with tea, coffee, and hot cocoa arranged on the kitchen island at precisely four p.m.

  "Joxen could have been seriously injured," Delilah said and shoved the entire mini croissant in her mouth.

  "And it's a good thing he wasn't," Drish said, placing a firm elbow between Halsten's ribs before he could make an ass of himself.

  "Thank you, Drish," Delilah said between sips of coffee. "You know, I think I liked my gargoyle better when he was sulky."

  Drish gave her a winning smile and Halsten took the opportunity to grab the last of Sandrine's lemon cakes.

  "Well, at least I'm not the only one to have a massive fail today," Loïc grumped from the far end of the kitchen island. "The Congressional Senate wants more proof than I can reasonably provide before they'll even consider changing magical law."

  "We'll figure it out, Lo, don't worry," Delilah said.

  Despite Halsten finding the whole ordeal amusing, he kept a watchful eye on how many times Delilah's gaze searched the doorway. He'd counted five so far. Unlike every time previous, this time she found what she'd been searching for.

  "Joxen!" She leapt from the stool and threw her arms around the fae's neck. "I'm so sorry," she said into his throat. The fae encircled her, seeming to melt into her with each passing second.

  "It wasn't your fault, Delilah. I should have known that I would trigger the incursion spells once I was no longer connected to Mac-and-cheese."

  The whole room burst into laughter, and the slight coil of tension present in Halsten's neck since Joxen became part of their group unwound itself at last. Halsten had been waiting for this moment. He and Loïc locked eyes, each giving the other a single head bob.

  Joxen had passed the unspoken rule. One that none of them had discussed, but that all, now seemingly including Joxen, followed.

  Delilah sighed as Joxen pulled away. "I'm sorry I took so long recuperating. Those incursion spells are excellent at disabling would-be trespassers nearly instantaneously but their effects are generally short-lived. Unfortunately, now we don't have much time to get you ready for the Fire Festival."

  "What, now? Sundown isn't for another few hours," Delilah asked.

  "Yes, here sundown doesn't occur until later. But everything is different in the fae world."

  While Jox recovered, Delilah had caught the rest up on the plan to gain a new mate at the Fire Festival. And at the latest mention of said festival, Halsten's neck muscles coiled themselves into a knot once more. Was this to be his life? Worrying each time she took a new mate until they proved themselves worthy of her?

  If I may? Joxen said lightly at the edge of his mind. Halsten still had some work to do on keeping his mental walls up so every thought he had wasn't broadcast to everyone. Luckily, Joxen seemed to be the only one who'd heard his musings and had cordoned off the group link so just he and Halsten could talk.

  Halsten nodded.

  I feel you might be thinking about this backward.

  How do you mean?

  There's no need to worry about any new mate being worthy.

  And why is that?

  Because Delilah wouldn't choose someone who wasn't.

  The fae's words settled in Halsten's bones with the weight only found in truth. Joxen was right. He didn't have to keep protecting Delilah, she was more than capable of doing that on her own.

  She wasn't Tamsin.

  Delilah didn't need saving. And the more distance he could put between him and the castle steeped in memories of his late twin, the better he'd feel. Hell, just finding the land for their new place had put him in good spirits. "So, what can we expect from this Fire Festival?"

  Delilah tucked herself under Joxen's arm and beckoned for Halsten to join. He did not hesitate, sliding in next to her and wrapping an arm around her waist.

  "As I explained to Delilah, I haven't been to any Clan Ember festivals but on the whole, the clan has quite the reputation among the fae."

  "What kind of reputation?" Drish asked.

  "They are quite the frat house, if you will," Joxen said mildly, drawing everyone's gaze. "What?" he asked looking to each one in turn. "Did I not use that phrase correctly? It was my understanding that Greek life came with—"

  "No," Drish cut in. "You used it perfectly. I think it has taken everyone aback to hear you use two cultural references correctly, and rather humorously, given how new you are to said culture."

  "Ah, yes. I'm a quick study and a whale of a reader. I was able to acquire quite the selection of pop culture reading material and spent an afternoon absorbing some of the finer nuances your culture has to offer."

  "Why?" asked Loïc. Halsten was equally curious.

  "To understand Delilah better."

  Halsten nodded, though he suspected the fae held back his true reason.

  "Right. As I was saying, Clan Ember has agreed to let Delilah attend their festival, but she has made it clear to me she expects all of us to accompany her."

  Delilah nodded. "I need it clear from the start that whoever I choose is being chosen to be part of a team. The best way to demonstrate that is to show up together."

  "While I agree with the sentiment, Clan Ember isn't likely to appreciate the show of solidarity. That's why I've made sure each of you has traditional Clan Ember garb for the festivities."

  Without stepping away from Delilah, Joxen summoned forth a rack of clothing.

  Halsten's face fell.

  "Where's the rest of it?" Loïc asked.

  Drish stepped forward to feel the garments. "Hm, linen, well-constructed, sound stitching. Though, I'm only finding pants. Where are the shirts?"

  "Traditional Fire Festival garb for the men, I'm afraid."

  "Are you kidding me? I have to wear seventy-four yards of flammable fabric but you guys get to just wear pants?"

  8

  Delilah

  Standing before her in only their tight, low-riding pants in varying shades of red, Delilah had to admit that maybe her men were right.

  She did have it better.

  Not only was her skin mostly covered, but she also got to enjoy them shirtless for the entire night. As it was, Delilah was having quite a time restraining herself from dragging a finger down each one of their displayed stomachs.

  What was it about toned, rippling abs and carved-out hip Vs that made her brain go a little foggy? If she had her way, she'd have each one of them right in the middle of the atrium before they left for the Fi
re Festival. Too bad Joxen already warned her that they hardly had time to get ready and Clan Ember wouldn't appreciate her showing up late with more guests than expected.

  She studied her men with a pursed her lips. Joxen had done a superb job of pairing the perfect shade of red with each man, matching not just complexion but also personality. Drish had the most saturated color, deep crimson, and, of course, he carried it well. Lo's version deepened the red shade to nearly black, while Halsten's fell somewhere in the middle, his red the closest match to her own.

  Joxen's pants were at the other end of the spectrum, a lightened hue that managed to both compliment his silvery undertones while still reading as a true red. It wasn't his usual neutral, to say the least, but Joxen looked comfortable and confident, just like the rest of Delilah's men.

  "Well, if it wasn't clear we were together before, it sure as hell is now," Lo said, reaching for his boots.

  "It's my understanding that one is to attend Fire Festivals barefoot," Joxen informed Lo, who sighed and dropped the boot right back down.

  "Seriously? You expect us to go into an unknown clan's territory without weapons, shirts, or shoes?"

  Joxen nodded sympathetically. "Even 7-Eleven has higher standards," he deadpanned.

  Lo cracked a smile, and Drish filled the atrium with his melodious laughter, while Halsten snickered quietly to himself.

  "Delilah’s safety has been personally assured by Clan Ember's regent, Danu. No harm will come to her while attending their festival. All right?"

  Lo's shoulders sank. "Yeah, I guess. Not even just one little knife?"

  Delilah held out her hand. "Gimme." He slapped the hilt of a small blade into her palm and Delilah carefully inserted it into her cleavage. "There. Happy?"

  He grinned at her. "Immensely."

  "Good, everyone ready? Hold hands. I'll take us as close as I can without risking Danu's incursion spells. We'll have to walk the rest of the way."

  "So fae can't simply translocate wherever they please?" Drish asked.

  "Right. You need permission from the fae who owns the land. Since only Delilah was invited to the festival, I'm guessing the rest of us would be shredded to ribbons if we tried to translocate directly to the event.”

  "No ribbon men tonight, please," Delilah said, grabbing Joxen's and Halsten's hands. Lo and Drish followed suit, linking everyone in a circle, and Joxen translocated the group to a hill on the outskirts of Clan Ember's Fire Festival.

  Cool night air whipped through Delilah's hair and billowed the hem of her floaty skirt behind her. The night was clear and crisp and perfect for a Fire Festival. At least, Del thought so.

  Del's gaze followed the curve of the hillside to a large clearing. Fae of all colors, sizes, and shapes danced, lounged, and drank around countless bonfires situated in an open field. Some had silvery skin like Joxen, others deep mahogany, while others were somewhere between, but every one, no matter their skin color, had brilliant orange locks.

  Orange streaks of sunset, low on the horizon; orange flames licking through the air; a sea of orange heads. Delilah and her men were hardly inconspicuous. At least Joxen was right about the men not wearing shirts, though no one else wore the cool-toned red they did. The ember fae favored the warmer shades of yellow, orange, and red.

  Delilah's plan had been to try to blend in, but with a clan so homogenous, that was clearly out of the question. Del reached for Joxen on her left and Halsten on her right, and carefully picked her way down the hill, through the sticks and rocks and slick spots.

  "Drish, you doing okay back there?" Delilah asked over her shoulder.

  "Of course. Loïc would never lead me astray," he said simply.

  They crossed what appeared to be the entrance, wide beams stuck in the ground arcing into a vague doorway shape and threshold. Flames danced at the base of each wooden post and yet the wood showed no signs of scorching.

  "Welcome," said a tall, lithe woman of indeterminate age with catlike eyes and a ferocious set of fangs peeking over her bottom lip. She wore just as much fabric as Delilah, as did all the women at the festival, though this woman's dress managed to cover less of her body than Delilah would have thought possible. She grasped Delilah's hand in a two-handed shake. "Mackinshale told me you'd likely bring your whole troop with you. It's been a long time since we've had so many outsiders at one of our festivals."

  Joxen stepped forward. "Delilah Cross, may I present the Regent of Clan Ember, Danu Tine?”

  "Please, none of that tonight, young Joxen," the regent said with a wave of her hand. "Tonight we're all the same. All but mere fuel to the ancient fires of passion and lust. Please," she said, turning once more to Delilah. "Call me Danu."

  Delilah smiled at the regent, who was refreshingly dissimilar to Mackinshale. "These are my men: Halsten, my familiar; Loïc, my weapons expert; Drish, my negotiator; and Joxen, my teacher."

  Danu nodded to each man before meeting Delilah's gaze. "How shrewd of you to introduce them by the function they serve and not the power they wield," she said. "I appreciate you wanting to keep your secrets, Delilah, but please know, you're among friends."

  Delilah dipped her head in acknowledgment but did not elaborate on what any of her men could do.

  Danu moved on. "Come. Allow me to show you around." The regent laced her arm through Del's and Delilah immediately stiffened, causing Danu to pause in her tracks. "Are you quite all right, dear witch?"

  Del nodded and allowed the regent to lead her, checking to make sure her men were close behind. "The last time a fae looped their arm in mine, she—"

  "Ah, Mackinshale is still as brash as ever, I see. I think you'll find that while she and I share a common goal, our methods are quite different." She patted Delilah's arm as they traipsed across the field, winding their way around enormous bonfires. Unlike the spelled fireplaces in Castle Hayne, which flickered flames all the colors of the rainbow, these fires all stayed a brilliant orange from base to end.

  "Clan Ember's Fire Festival has occurred in one form or another since our pre-history. Each fire is a representation of one of life's passions."

  Delilah stared at the regent. "There are countless fires."

  "And countless pleasures," Danu answered with a smile and stopped in front of the largest pyre yet. "Food and drink and sex are the obvious ones, but there are fires for creativity and love and family and even laughter, Delilah. But, there's only so much that can be explained. It's much better to experience the fires for yourself. Please, feel free to wander until a blaze calls to you, as this one has to me."

  At her last word, a great gong sounded in the distance and an impish smile played across the regent's painted lips. "Seems I'm right on time for the next rites."

  Delilah glanced at her men to find them all strategically averting their gaze from the regent, staring either at their toes or the fires. She cast her gaze back to Danu to find her being stripped bare by three muscled, orange-haired ember fae.

  Delilah, while late to sex and relationships, was no prude. Hell, she had four men, and was about to find another. She was, however getting tired of seeing fae regents being serviced in front of her. Though, at least Danu and the men at her side seemed to be enjoying themselves.

  Lilah, I have to know, Loïc snickered into her mind as they turned to leave. Do ember fae carpets match their drapes?

  Her men chortled quietly behind her.

  Unimpressed, Delilah doubled down. "Well, I can't speak for all the ember fae, but the regent was bare as a porn star."

  Loïc's mouth fell open and the rest of her men burst into laughter.

  "Ha! You should see your face," Delilah cackled. "Come on, boys, let's go find a less moan-y and naked fire."

  9

  Drish

  Large, open spaces, throngs of people, open fucking flames. It was enough to make the implacable Drish Sangvhi lose his cool. And he might have, if Loïc hadn't picked up on his anxiety. "Are you doing okay, man? You don't seem like yourself."

>   Drish let out a breath, steadying himself. "I'm not. This place is awful on my senses. I can't quite get my bearings."

  What Drish didn't say was how one spark, one errant little ember could cause stampeding mayhem and turn this probably very nice gathering into a death trap for him.

  It had happened before.

  Drish's one and only excursion to a large outdoor concert venue had been sullied by a pyrotechnics spell going awry and scaring the crowd into a frenzied mob.

  Herd mentality and the blind do not mix.

  Seventeen-year-old Drish would have been trampled to death if it hadn't been for a sweet, gifted girl throwing a barrier spell around him, creating a blockade people had to move around instead of over.

  This place only served to remind Drish of how vulnerable he truly was.

  "Can we perhaps find a quiet corner of the festival? Maybe with the smallest fire?" Drish asked.

  "Of course, man. Whatever you need."

  "Only if Delilah doesn't need us, though."

  "Hey, Lilah," Lo called, louder than Drish expected, which not only startled him but also made the even-keeled seer mad. He couldn't even tell that Delilah had walked away. There was too much other stimuli confusing his senses. "Do you mind if Drish and I go off and explore?"

  "Go on and have fun, you two."

  "See, she doesn't need us. We're moral support. Whoa, hey, Drish, you don't look so hot. What's going on?"

  Drish didn't often allow himself to sink into feelings of helplessness. He couldn't afford indulging in such pointlessness. But even Delilah's light, calm voice had failed to settle his nerves. This was the perfect storm. This was every one of his fears all laid out in one place.