The Enchanted Writes Book One

by Odette C. Bell

  Chapter Ten

  Henrietta was starting to get good at this. Or at least that was what Brick was telling her. She no longer hesitated as much when she met a witch, and her spells were coming quicker and easier. They also appeared to be growing in strength. When she cast an ice ball these days, it would shoot out quicker and would travel for a longer distance.

  Brick had assured her that the more she practiced and fought, the stronger her magic would become. Yet she was still not strong enough to fight the Witch King. Brick told her it would take months if not an entire year of practice before she was ready to face him. But at least she could contain his efforts by going after the lesser witches under his command.

  Henrietta walked along the dock, her boots clinking against the old, rotting wooden boards.

  It was well lit, but even still, the street lights that were dotted around the place still left great swathes of darkness in between. You could be standing right under one of the lamps, and be fully illuminated, and yet all around you would be a great area of shadow. Henrietta was starting to appreciate that a lot could lurk in the shadows.

  “What are we dealing with here?” she asked as she kept walking along, never once falling, despite the fact her heels should have been treacherous along the uneven boards.

  Brick was sniffing the air, and Henrietta had come to realize he always did that when he was trying to figure out what kind of witch they were about to fight. He even brought his finger up, licked it, and ran it through the air as if he was trying to check the direction of the wind. “Water witches,” he rumbled, and as he did, there was a loud wet splash from behind them.

  Henrietta whirled around, her jacket plastering against her legs.

  She brought up her wand.

  She hadn't fought a water witch yet. She had fought plenty of fire witches and earth witches and even an air witch. But not a water witch.

  Each different category of witch looked different. Some of them were far more human-looking than the others; it seemed to depend on what kind of magic they had. The earth witches looked like young women who had caked themselves in dirt and dust. An air witch had such a flighty, flowing quality to her, that you could tell she wasn’t human. As for a water witch, Henrietta was about to find out.

  There was another wet thump from behind her, and Henrietta twisted, bringing her wand up and writing wall.

  It was a handy spell, and the second she finished writing it, a wall formed in front of her and Brick.

  It was in time to see a massive spurt of water rush from the river and smash into the wall.

  The wall shook from the force of it.

  “She is powerful,” Brick warned as he grabbed his crossbow from his jacket. “Be careful.”

  Henrietta turned again; she could hear a steady dripping noise to her left.

  She hadn't yet seen anything. While the water had rocketed from the river and smashed against her wall spell, she hadn't seen the creature that had cast it.

  “Remain on guard.” Brick kept turning around in a circle, crossbow grasped in his hands.

  Though Henrietta got the urge to write a fire spell and cast it in every direction, she stopped herself. The more she wrote, the more she would drain her magic, and until she knew what she was dealing with, she couldn't risk wasting resources. She had learnt that important lesson over the past couple of weeks. Her magic had a definite limit, and though that limit was increasing with practice, it was still there. Depending on the strength of the spell, she could cast about 10 or 12 different words before she started to ache with fatigue. She always had to be careful to keep enough magic left for the banishing spell. While there were several ways to defeat a witch, the banishing spell was always the most reliable. However, she could not cast it the second she came across a witch; she would have to defeat the witch first, or at least fight her for long enough until the witch became tired.

  “Get down,” Brick hollered from her side, knocking into her, and planting a hand on her back.

  Henrietta let herself fall to her knees.

  She rolled onto her back and brought her wand up.

  A sharp jet of water like a knife sliced over where she had been standing. It twisted around in a wide arc and managed to cut through the metal post of one of the street lamps. The light blinked out in an instant, and the pole fell over, the glass smashing against the dock and covering her back and face.

  She jumped to her feet, dusting the glass off, and she shot towards the water.

  She had never faced a spell like that. Fireballs, yes, mini earthquakes, sure, but that water spell had been incredible. It had been strong enough to cut through a metal pole.

  “Get down,” Brick roared again. This time he wasn't close enough to her that he could grab her and pull her to her knees.

  Henrietta flattened anyway, but it wasn't quick enough; another one of those jets of water sliced over her, and it managed to cut off the tales of her jacket.

  She shrieked, pushing herself further down into the broken beams of the dock, and covering her head.

  “It's on the barge,” Brick roared by her side.

  She pushed herself up and stared into the darkness. She could hardly see; now that the street lamp behind her was gone, it was too dark to pick much out.

  Night vision.

  Henrietta wrote the word, and as she finished, a surge of energy shot up from a symbol at her feet. The energy collected in her eyes, and she blinked through the peculiar sensation until she could see again.

  It didn't matter that it was dark; she could see everywhere. She glanced towards the dock and the water, and she saw a barge. What was more, she saw the creature standing on top of it.

  A water witch.

  She had the form of a young woman, but the clothes she was wearing were decidedly other. Also, her hair hung around her like a wet sheet billowing in the wind. Droplets of water cascaded from her arms and legs at every movement, and her eyes were wide and glossy.

  Wall.

  Henrietta wrote her favorite spell once again, in time to stop another one of those jets of water from chopping her in half.

  Brick skidded on his feet and did a somersault right behind the wall, but not before the jet of water managed to knock his hat from his head.

  The bricks of her magical wall took a beating, and shifted backwards with the force of the witch’s water jet, but they did not fall. Still, they would not be able to take too much of an onslaught before the spell failed.

  So she had to be creative. She could figure that it would take an enormous amount of magic to banish this witch, so she had to be scrupulous with her remaining spells in order to defeat it.

  Tremble.

  She wrote the spell, bringing her arm out as far as she could, trying to write the word as far away from her body as was possible.

  Though it was hard, Henrietta was starting to get a handle on where to cast her spells. When she'd first started out as a witch hunter, she’d written her words willy-nilly, with no care for where the spells were cast. Now she understood that the relationship between where she wrote them affected where they appeared. She still wasn't that accurate, but she was trying to improve.

  Fortunately this time she got it right. After she finished writing the word tremble with her wand, the barge the witch stood on started to shake.

  It was violent and quick, and it made the witch stumble on her feet until she fell over, her body slamming forward with a wet splash.

  The witch cried out. While a fire witch shrieked like a whistle, a water which sounded far more like a distressed drowning person.

  It was a frankly horrible sound to listen to, and Henrietta found herself flinching at it.

  “Cast your magnification spell,” Henrietta snapped at Brick as she darted around the side of her magical wall.

  Brick did not hesitate; he pointed his crossbow right at her and fired. That familiar blue spark landed on her shoulder, then a mandala formed at her feet.

  It sent such a rush of ene
rgy through her, that her shoulders tugged back and she took an enormous involuntary breath.

  It was the rush she needed to perform the next spell.

  Tornado.

  Fire.

  She wrote both words in such quick succession that the symbols seemed to form together. Both spells twisted around her until they shot out towards the barge.

  Henrietta stumbled backwards. Though she'd gotten Brick to cast a magical magnification spell, casting two spells at once had still taken their toll on her.

  She didn't stumble over, she still kept on her feet, and she looked up in time to see the fire tornado pass over the barge.

  The water witch shrieked again, that horrible drowning sound echoing around the docks.

  Henrietta wanted to clamp her hands over her ears to block it out. But she needed to hold her wand at the ready.

  The fire tornado dissipated; combined spells never lasted long.

  As the last twist of fire disappeared, she ran forward to the edge of the dock to see what damage they had done.

  The barge itself was trashed; it was covered in black char. Still, amongst the mess, there stood a young woman, no longer dripping water, but sizzling as steam hissed over her body.

  Henrietta did not wait. She whipped out her wand and she wrote the word banish. Before she could finish, a funny thing happened.

  The witch disappeared. A hole formed underneath the creature's feet, and in an instant she dropped out of sight.

  Henrietta stumbled backwards, startled, her hand stiff around her wand.

  “What the—” she began.

  Before she could finish her sentence, Brick toppled into her, latched a hand over her arm, and started to pull her back. “We have to get out of here.” His expression was wild. It was a look she'd never seen. Sure, sometimes Brick would look startled or angry or frustrated or even powerful in the heat of battle, but the fear plastered over his face now was different.

  “Brick?” Henrietta's voice shook. “What's happening?”

  “Run,” he pushed hard into her back, and then he stood and faced the barge, bringing his crossbow up and pointing it right at the hole that was still there.

  She stumbled from Brick's shove, but she didn't do as he said, and she didn't race off into the night. “Brick, what's happening?” she asked again.

  “Run,” he repeated. He did not pause or even waste the breath to call her Warrior Woman Witch Hunter. Which was something he had never done before. Despite how quick and fraught and violent a situation could become, Brick always used her full name while addressing her.

  Not right now.

  What was more, his leather jacket was twitching from side to side as his arm shuddered whilst he held onto his crossbow.

  She backed off, her heels clicking against the wood below her.

  Something began to form out of the hole in the barge.

  The spell she'd cast on herself that made her eyes capable of seeing at night was still working, so she had no trouble in making out the figure that was pulling itself out of that black hole.

  First she saw the hands, then she saw the arms, and then something rose right out of that black, bottomless pit.

  That something was a man.

  He was dressed in a pair of suit pants and a white shirt. His top button was undone, but the rest of his outfit was neat and pressed. He was young, maybe in his late 20s, and he had a keen handsome face and expression. His eyes were wide with interest, and in another moment he offered her a smile.

  Henrietta kept backing up until her boots collected against the pole of the chopped-in-half street lamp.

  She fell right over it and bumped her butt right on the ground.

  This always happened when she was afraid; she lost the ability to walk around in her ridiculous heels and fell down unceremoniously.

  The man smiled even harder, bringing his hands up to clap. The hollow sound of it echoed around the docks.

  “Warrior Woman, get out of here,” Brick pleaded with her again.

  “Brick, who is that?”

  “Allow me to introduce myself.” The man folded his arm in front of himself and bowed. He raised his head while he was still in the bowed position, always keen to keep his gaze locked on hers.

  Henrietta's throat was dry, and the muscles of her face were tense, forcing her eyes wide and her lips apart.

  “I am Theodore Francis Hellier the Third,” the man bowed again.

  She'd already scrambled to her feet, and she held hold of her wand and pushed it in front of her, getting ready to write.

  The man smiled harder, but it was not a reassuring move. “I welcome your magic, young witch hunter.”

  “What are you?” As soon as the words shook out of her throat, she came up with her own answer.

  It was obvious the man was a witch, and so far the only male witches she had heard of were the King Witches.

  Brick had told her over and over again how powerful they were, and how Henrietta was in no way ready to face one yet.

  A powerful surge of fear crossed over her, and she found herself teetering on her heels until she fell over again.

  “I have not met a witch hunter in years,” the man pointed out as he took a step forward, the black hole underneath him disappearing in a hiss.

  He looked at her with such interest that Henrietta began to blush. It had something to do with the quality of his gaze, how his eyes darted over her and seemed to see right through her.

  She stumbled to her feet again, clutching a hand in front of her chest.

  The man chuckled. He kept walking forward until he physically took a step off the barge. He didn't plummet down and fall into the river. No, he walked over it.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and a horrible metallic taste filled her mouth.

  “Get back,” Brick shouted as he fired a bolt towards the man.

  The man brought up a hand and swatted at the bolt, the magical light dissipating in an instant.

  “Stay out of this, warrior monk,” Hellier spat.

  He made it to the dock, he walked right onto it, his expensive shoes now squeaking over the old wood. Up close, he looked even more intense.

  Wall.

  Henrietta cast the spell, her arm twitching, her breath fast.

  The wall appeared, but as it did, the Witch King began to chuckle.

  Then he walked right through it. Although the magical bricks fell around him, and appeared to strike his face and arms with violet force, he was unaffected. He brought up his other hand, fixed his hair, cracked his neck, and kept walking towards her.

  “What do you want?” She kept staggering backwards, but it was hard to keep her balance, and her ankles and legs wobbled from side to side.

  Though her wall spell had been so ineffective, she still held her wand defensively.

  “An invitation,” the man tipped his head to the side and gave her a lingering look.

  Henrietta baulked. “I'm not going anywhere with you!”

  He snapped his eyes up, no longer looking at her skirt and boots. “Now or later, Witch Hunter, you will follow. They all do in the end.”

  “Warrior Woman, run,” Brick shouted again, whirling forward and bringing his crossbow around towards Hellier.

  Hellier darted to the side, brought his arm up, and protected his head as Brick brought the crossbow around.

  That would be when the crossbow shattered.

  It wasn't even loud, but Henrietta found herself shrieking at the noise.

  Brick took a shuddering step backwards and gave his crossbow an alarmed look. He threw it to the side and launched himself at the Witch King.

  The two of them fought.

  Hellier was fast, but so was Brick.

  “Run,” Brick begged her once more.

  Henrietta ran.

  She didn't stay by Brick's side, she didn't try to defend him, because the look in his eyes was so pleading she couldn't ignore it.

  Still shaking on her heels, her fear d
rowning her, Henrietta ran from the dock, and she kept running until she was as far away from that side of town as she could get.

  In fact, it wasn't until she reached her home, locked her door, and flopped down on her floor that she stopped her frantic escape.

  She curled up on her rug, right next to the singed section of floor where her hairpin had burnt through the floorboards. She waited.

  She stayed in that position until Brick returned home.