by T J Green
A young, male witch who had accompanied Jasper cut in, “Lost as in dead?”
“Lost as in either dead or kidnapped, taken to the lands beyond ours without a choice.”
“What land? Where?”
“The lands of the Fey. Tonight you will experience wild magic, terrifying and chaotic. You must hold firm.” She looked at each and every one of them. “You will be frightened, but you must concentrate only on them not escaping. It is a simple spell. We will raise a cone of power and build a wall between them and us, and I will make it impenetrable. And when the time is right, I will cast them back from whence they came. The White Haven witches will be in the grove—they have a friend they need to rescue. When that is done they will join us. But no one must flee!”
“Will we link hands?” another witch asked.
“No. The area is too large. We will link mentally, not physically, but you know how to do that. You will be in sight of others, though. We will be on the edge of the grove. No one goes in except myself and the White Haven witches. Is that clear?”
They all murmured their assent.
Avery spoke up. “I should warn you that Hunter said he’ll turn up tonight with some other Shifters. He wants to help.”
Genevieve glared. “If they get in the way, they’re on their own. I can’t take care of everyone. Understood?”
Avery nodded, hoping that Hunter wouldn’t turn up. She didn’t want him hurt too.
“One last thing,” Genevieve said. “The Nephilim will be there behind us, but they will not take part in the spell. They may, however, have a part to play in this yet. Any other questions?”
The room was silent.
“In that case, let’s meet at the grove, and hope Gabe has kept the onlookers away.”
26
Old Haven Church squatted like a troll against the night sky. The air was crisp and clear and a sprinkling of stars shone overhead, but already a ground mist was rising, snaking over the paths and gravestones, and winding amongst the trees.
The witches made their way to the grove, witch-lights illuminating the path. Some of the witches had set off in other directions, heading to the fields behind the church at the back of the grove, to encircle it. Genevieve placed them all carefully, leaving Avery, Reuben, Alex, El and Briar to summon their courage at the edge of the trees.
“Bloody Hell,” Reuben exclaimed. “I haven’t been here in days. This place is vile!”
Briar shuddered. “I can’t believe another witch would desecrate the Earth in this way. She’s a monster.”
Gabe stood at their side. “She is the Carrion Crow, bringer of death and destruction. You are foolish to step in there tonight.”
Briar was resolute. “We have no choice. We have to get Newton.”
Avery looked at Gabe’s strong profile as he gazed into the wood. “Don’t let anyone else in. I have told Ben and the others to stay away, and Hunter, too, but I have a feeling he’s already in there with the other Shifters.”
He nodded. “None will pass.”
“Are there any onlookers trying to get in now?” Alex asked.
“No. Although some may come later—it’s inevitable. Eli will stand at the end of the lane just in case. The other Nephilim are around the grove.” He frowned. “What will you use to protect yourself?”
Avery answered first. “A protection spell, similar to one I used the other day, enough to numb the worst of her spell.”
Gabe nodded and headed off to patrol the grounds.
For the next half an hour they waited, shuffling restlessly and discussing tactics, and time crept on as Genevieve prepared the circle. The stronger witches were interspersed with the weaker, and to her right Avery saw Caspian, his face lit from below by the pure white candle he held in his cupped hands. He caught her eye and nodded and she nodded back.
It was now half-past eleven, and finally Genevieve reappeared at their side. “We will start. Good luck.”
“You too,” they murmured as the larger group stepped within the outer ring of trees.
As soon as they entered the grove, a shudder ran through Avery, and she heard the others gasp.
“By the Goddess,” murmured Briar. “The Earth bleeds. I feel it.”
“I feel the air tainted with blood,” Avery said.
“And the waters are stained with it,” Reuben added.
“Fire will cleanse,” El said with determination as she pushed through the overhanging branches. She had unsheathed her sword and held it steady, sweeping it before her, a shimmer of white fire running along its blade.
Alex said nothing, silently following.
Ahead of them, luring the group onward, was a yellow glow that got stronger and stronger as they reached the clearing with the yew at its centre. Suzanna had already been here. The place was filled with candles. They were on the ground, hanging from trees, and wedged into branches. One sat in the yew’s hollow trunk, and the red wood seemed to bleed in the rosy glow. It looked both beautiful and deadly, and the smell of blood hit them like a wave.
Alex fell to his knees, clutching his head and breathing deeply. Avery dropped down next to him. “Alex, what’s wrong?”
He blinked and gathered himself. “I can hear screaming.”
She looked around, alarmed. “From where?”
“Everywhere.”
Reuben, El, and Briar stood around him, watching the clearing and protecting him while he was weak, but nothing stirred.
Alex took a few deep breaths and leaning on Avery, rose to his feet. “I’m okay. I’ve blocked it enough so that I can think.”
“What is screaming?”
His eyes were dark and troubled. “The Earth and the trees. The spell affects them, too. It violates everything. The animals have fled.”
Reuben gripped his shoulder. “I think we should draw back and cloak ourselves, so she won’t see us when she arrives.”
“She’ll know we’re here, though,” Avery said, feeling despondent. “She’s too good.”
Reuben tried to cheer her up. “We have a good plan. We’ll spread out around the clearing as we planned—she can’t attack all of us at once. As soon as she’s here, I’ll run for Newton, and you have to cover me. Agreed?”
They all nodded. “Agreed.”
Before they separated, Avery said to Alex, “If you have another psychic moment, get out of here—don’t risk yourself.”
“If you think I’m leaving you, you’re mad. I’m fine now. It’s under control,” he reassured her. “Don’t you do anything stupid, either.”
She nodded and they hunkered down, crouching behind trees and bushes, biding their time.
Suzanna’s spell was making Avery’s skin crawl. It was as if something evil had burrowed beneath her skin and was wriggling about. Goose bumps had risen on her arms, and she felt as if the blade of a knife was running up and down her spine. She wanted to scream. It must be some kind of repulsion spell on a huge scale. The power to maintain that over days was impressive.
Avery could also feel the power of the coven begin to grow, a subtle awareness that pricked at her consciousness, and it reassured her. Every now and then she caught a glimpse of a distant flame through the trees, marking the spot where a witch stood. So far, so good.
Without warning, the air in the centre of the grove started to whirl, leaves lifting from the ground and flying around like a mini-tornado. They spun in an ever-widening vortex as more leaves were sucked into the maelstrom, blinding the witches to what was happening in the centre. Avery leapt to her feet as every single candle went out, plunging them into darkness. A scream rent the air, and just as Avery was about to hurl a witch-light into the sky, the candles relit in an instantaneous blaze, and she fell back, almost blinded.
Newton was on his knees at the base of the tree, bound and gagged, and next to him stood Suzanna. Her hair was wild, lifting around her, and she wore black trousers, a tight black bodice over a white shirt, knee-length boots, and a cloak. But Avery only briefly
took that in, her attention drawn by the long, jagged knife in her hands and the triumphant sneer on her face.
Avery was vaguely aware that several things were happening at the same time. She lunged forward, whipping air like a lasso in an effort to wrench the knife from Suzanna, and she saw Reuben sprint towards her, weapon drawn. Tree roots thrust up beneath Suzanna’s feet, trying to throw her off balance, at the same time that a ball of flames hurtled towards her from the trees. But they were all too slow. Suzanna drew her knife along Newton’s throat and blood surged out as he fell to the ground, blood pooling around him as she yelled a furious incantation that Avery couldn’t understand.
They had all agreed not to blast her with too much power for fear of hurting Newton, but as she saw him fall, Avery sent a bolt of lightning at Suzanna. Alex was beside her as they sprinted into the clearing, but Suzanna was on her feet, deflecting the lightning around the clawing tree roots, and she rolled free.
Alex, El, and Avery continued to throw everything they had at Suzanna forcing her away from Newton, and Reuben and Briar darted forward, reaching Newton’s side. But it was as if Suzanna no longer cared about him. She had spilt his blood, lots of it, and that was all that mattered.
She stood at the edge of the clearing, raising a wall of crackling energy in front of her, and then she started to chant again, raising her hands into the air.
Avery began her spell to bind Suzanna’s tongue, but the ground beneath them started to buckle and lift and she fell, unable to complete it. She felt Alex grab her around the waist and pull her backwards at the same time as El sank into the earth, waist deep.
Avery struggled against him. “El, go help El!”
Alex let her go, and together they ran to her aid. Behind them, Avery was vaguely aware that Reuben and Briar were at Newton’s side, trying to stem the blood flow.
Suddenly, howling snarls filled the air, and Avery looked up to see half a dozen wolves launch themselves at Suzanna from out of the trees behind her. She was caught completely unaware, and she crashed to the ground. The Shifters must have been hiding, biding their time. They all rolled together in a blur of teeth, fur, and skin.
Unfortunately, Avery couldn’t help them. El was uttering a spell in a desperate attempt to free herself, and Alex and Avery grabbed her hands, pulling together.
El screamed. “I can’t get free. It’s like something is biting me!”
“Wait!” Avery shouted. She laid her hands on the ground and sent a pulse of power deep down into the earth, churning it up as her power sank deeper. Alex continued to pull, and with a reluctant pop, Alex hurled her out and then pulled her backwards. El’s jeans were torn and her legs were bleeding as she struggled to rise. In the end, Alex picked her up.
He yelled over his shoulder, “Get back beyond the clearing! I feel it. They’re coming!”
Avery glanced back at the wolves. Suzanna was already struggling to her feet, the wolves flung from her as if they were toys, but her arms were dripping blood, and blood was smeared across her face. As much as Avery wanted to attack Suzanna, it was pointless. Her shield between them was still strong, and they needed to get out of there. She shouted, “Run!” But they didn’t, and instead snarled and snapped at Suzanna as she struggled to fend them off.
Avery dropped to Newton’s side next to the other two witches. Briar had her hand over the wound on his neck. She was covered in his blood, her arms and clothes slick with it, but she ignored it, repeating a spell over and over, her concentration absolute.
Avery looked at Reuben. “We need to move him.”
“She won’t let me.”
Avery turned to Briar. “Briar, we have to go, now!”
A wild wind rushed around them, and the candles’ flames eddied, throwing shadows across them.
Avery turned to look at the yew. They were only feet away, and she saw a crack of light within its centre, as if reality itself was tearing apart.
“Briar!” she yelled.
Reuben didn’t hesitate. He lifted Newton in one monumental effort, and Briar was forced to follow, and then all three ran into the trees, as far from the yew as they could get, following Alex’s path with El.
The grove’s edge was now glowing with a bright white light, throwing the trees ahead of them into sharp relief. The coven had raised the shield.
At the edge of the clearing, Avery risked a look back and saw the yew tree split in two as light blazed from its trunk. The air was rent with the sound of horses screaming, dogs barking, and the long, haunting bellow of a horn carried across the night.
She turned and ran, fear in her throat, her stomach twisted with panic. Wild magic surged outwards, obliterating the revulsion that had filled the grove, and replacing it with something far scarier.
Thudding hooves filled the night, and Avery staggered and fell. She looked back and saw the light shimmer as a huge, black horse emerged, hounds at its feet, on its back a man with antlers on his head and a bow in his hands.
She froze, filled with a mixture of terror and fascination. The horse cantered into the clearing, and behind him more and more horses emerged, the riders shining with a strange spectral light and mad, wild music surging around them. The horn sounded again, and more dogs ran through, all huge, with gaping jaws dripping with saliva as they snarled and snapped.
Avery shuffled backward, hiding within the darkness of the trees and bushes, well away from the gusting candlelight. Not that it was needed anymore. The Wild Hunt brought their own light.
She watched the figure that had entered first. She knew who he was, from a myth; the partner of the Goddess, Herne the Hunter, come to ride through the night. The figures behind him were not of this world, either. They looked like men, but they weren’t. They must be Fey. Even on horseback she could tell they were tall, and they emanated magic. They were bewitchingly beautiful, a mix of masculine and feminine; fierce, strong warriors, dressed in dark mail, with swords in their hands and bows at their backs. Their horses were decorated with feathers and plumes, and the saddles and harnesses jingled with silver.
Herne turned towards Suzanna, who stood triumphantly watching. Her face was transformed. She was no longer Suzanna; she was the Crone, bringer of death.
In a voice that transcended time, Herne said, “Ride with me, my queen!” He held his hand out and as she took it, he pulled her up behind him.
His horse whinnied and pawed the ground, and he turned and stared right at where Avery crouched in the undergrowth. He threw back his head and laughed. It echoed over the grove and the ground trembled beneath her feet, and then he pointed at her, and the hounds at his feet raced towards her, teeth barred.
Suddenly, Alex was at her side, and pulled her upright. “Avery, run!”
As she turned, she saw Hunter the wolf launch himself at the hound, and they rolled into the undergrowth. Then all hell broke loose as the Hunt reared on their horses as one and raced out of the clearing in all directions, charging through the trees towards the edge of the grove.
The wolves emerged from their hiding spaces and attacked.
Alex and Avery ran, pursued by Herne himself. They scrambled, half falling and mad with fear, the hounds howling. Together they turned, and while Alex hurled balls of fire and energy at their pursuers, Avery lifted the leaves up to form a wall and sent it rushing towards Herne, buying themselves seconds only.
The grove was alive with the thunder of hooves, the bark of dogs, the howl of the wolves, and the frustrated shouts of the Hunt as they pulled up against the circle of protection the witches had created. A couple of Fey charged at the perimeter, but were thrown backwards by the projected force of the coven.
The wolves continued to attack the dogs and horses as they raced through the grove, but they were horribly outnumbered, and the Fey slashed at them with their swords.
Avery and Alex stumbled to the edge of the woods, seeing Genevieve ahead of them. She stood a few feet clear of the wall of light. Behind her Newton was prone on the ground, Briar
next to him, desperately trying to heal him as his life ebbed away. Reuben and El stood next to Genevieve, ready to fight.
Genevieve looked as spectral as the riders. She was bathed in the pure white light of the protection spell, her arms outstretched. She called to Alex and Avery. “Join me, now!”
They stood next to her, raised their energy and joined it to hers, backs to the circle, facing the Hunt, and Avery felt the protection spell envelop her, too, wrapping her in its warm embrace.
Herne came to a halt, a few of his riders spread behind him, each one eager to probe the spell that sealed them inside. Herne’s horse pawed the ground in fury, desperate to start the true hunt, but Herne laughed.
Avery tried to focus on his face, but it was hard. His features almost repelled memory. He was handsome, cruel, dark-eyed, long-haired, and broad-shouldered, his feet ended in hooves, and his many-tined antlers rose several feet above his head. His eyes seemed to glow with a feral light.
His deep voice rattled the earth. “You seek to stop me, witch?”
Genevieve’s face was fierce. “I seek to send you back from whence you came.”
“It is our time now, leave while you still can.”
“You underestimate my power, old one. Your time has long gone. You have new hunting grounds now. This place is not for you.”
He threw back his head and laughed again as if they were a joke, and the riders behind him laughed too. “You challenge the immortals?”
“I do.” Genevieve took a pace forward and pushed her power out towards him. The circle stepped forward, too, and she continued to advance on him, one step at a time, and against his will, he was forced back, the circling tightening continuously.
Herne pulled his bow free, raised it, and fired an arrow at Genevieve.
Avery’s heart faltered in fear, but she kept her magic raised, feeling the coven’s powers surge with hers, as Genevieve swatted the arrow away like a fly.
