Witch's Sacrifice

by Emma L. Adams

  I whipped my head around. Evelyn had approached, silent as the ghost she’d once been.

  “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

  “Stay away from that wellspring.” Her gaze went past Isabel and Asher as though they weren’t present. She had eyes only for me—and the wellspring.

  “Are you aware that you left your vampire army to die?” I said. “They’re tearing the mage guild apart looking for you.”

  “I don’t need them anymore,” she said. “I needed the bell, that’s all.”

  “I notice you threw it away when you didn’t need it,” I said. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? Cordelia and the others gave everything for you, and you repaid them by letting the gods’ magic devour them alive.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Let me take the rest of my magic.”

  “For what?” I asked. “Might have escaped your attention, but by killing the Hemlocks, you let the Devourer’s magic escape through the spirit line. The god’s magic is a defence mechanism that stays active even when it’s dead, and it’ll catch up to you eventually, Evelyn. No matter how far you run.”

  “If you hadn’t forced my hand,” said Evelyn, “this would never have happened. This is your fault, Jacinda.”

  “Don’t try it,” I snapped. “This is on you, Evelyn. And I’m going to make you face up to your crimes even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming.”

  I lunged at her. She dodged to the side with the swift steps of someone inked with a rune for speed, but Isabel blocked her path. Magic blasted from Evelyn’s hand, bouncing off Isabel’s shield. The silvery runes on Isabel’s skin gleamed brightly.

  “That magic should be mine.” Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. “I’m the leader of the most powerful coven in the world.”

  “Only because you killed the others.” I barred her path, but she shoved me aside and stepped into the wellspring.

  At once, the ground shifted beneath our feet. A globe of green light rose from the centre where the water was pooling and solidified before my eyes.

  Evelyn reached out a hand and plucked the globe out of the air. It was the size of her palm, covered in rippling green glyphs. The magic in my blood reacted, drawn to it, demanding to touch it.

  Evelyn smiled. “This is the original source of our coven’s magic. It belongs to the leader, and it recognises me as worthy.”

  “You can’t declare yourself leader,” Isabel told her. “Not without a Second. Even the Hemlock Coven isn’t exempt from those rules.”

  A Second.

  “Watch me.” She turned the globe over in mid-air. The glowing runes faded, the globe turning dull grey, and a scowl darkened her face. “There should be more power in this.”

  “More power?” I arched a brow. “Isn’t what you have already enough?”

  Maybe Isabel had a point. Evelyn’s magic put any other witch’s to shame, but the coven leader carried the magic of every other member of that coven. For Asher, trying to take on the magic of an entire coven had forced him to make a blood pact with a god or else lose his power altogether. Evelyn, however, was an immortal who’d slaughtered the Ancients with a snap of her fingers.

  Evelyn turned on the spot. “Where is the rest of the wellspring?”

  “Maybe it ditched you, on account of you killing Cordelia and the others.” I folded my arms. “You’re still not satisfied?”

  Asher stepped forward. “Wasn’t the source of your magic inside the forest when the god’s magic destroyed it?”

  I looked between them, bewildered. Was the wellspring not the source after all? I’d assumed Evelyn had drawn all the forest’s power into herself when she’d collapsed the Hemlocks’ cave, but maybe she hadn’t.

  Evelyn’s mouth twisted and she threw the globe at me. I caught it by my fingertips, on reflex. “What’s the problem?”

  “You bitch,” she said. “You should have told me it was in the forest.”

  “Huh?” What if she was right? The forest had contained most of the Hemlocks’ magic, and perhaps some of it survived in the void. If there was the slightest chance of fixing the damage, of stopping the Devourer… I’d take it.

  I let my features relax. “Go right ahead. I’ll be behind you.”

  “No, you won’t.” She grabbed the remaining thread of light from the wellspring and pulled, hard.

  The hill collapsed in a torrent of soil and grass. I threw my arms over my head, choking on dirt, the ground sliding away beneath me.

  I came to a halt on my stomach in the muddy grass and spat out a mouthful of soil, shuddering. Asher lay further off, but not Isabel.

  “Where is she?” I crawled over to his side. “Isabel?”

  “She’s under here.” Asher dug through the dirt, a frantic expression on his face. I moved in to help him, and we dragged Isabel to the surface. She appeared to be unconscious, but held the globe clutched in her hands.

  “This once contained my coven’s magic.” I took the globe, brushed some of the dirt off. “I guess this is where it ended up after Cordelia and the others were bound to the forest. I wonder…”

  Asher sucked in a breath. At my touch, the globe came to life again, whorls and swirls of light dancing across its surface. It’s not dead. Evelyn had tossed it aside, but maybe… maybe I could coax it back to life.

  “Asher,” I said. “I think I can save you from your blood bond, but I need you to do something for me, too.”

  “I’m listening,” he said.

  I leaned in and whispered to him. His eyes widened. And then he reached out, taking the globe in his own hands.

  Isabel coughed, sitting up. “Ow.”

  “Thank god,” breathed Asher. “Isabel… we need your help.”

  Her gaze focused on the globe. “It’s working?”

  “With a little encouragement,” I said. “Do you have any magic to spare? I’m trying to kick-start it. Then I need to get to Evelyn.”

  “Oh… of course.” Isabel pressed her hand to the globe, and her magic bolstered mine. Asher added in his own magic, barely noticeable, a thin trickle of power swirling above the globe.

  But the marks on his arms were disappearing. His eyes cleared, his body straightening upright.

  The globe’s magic flowed into me, too, mingling with the power already in my blood.

  “I accept,” I whispered. “I will take on the position as coven leader.”

  “Whoa,” said Isabel. “Jas, you can’t declare yourself coven leader without a Second. It’s unstable.”

  “I’ll have a Second.” I nodded to Asher. “How long do you reckon one person can keep the coven leader’s magic inside them without any backup before it burns them from the inside out?”

  “Maybe a minute?” said Asher.

  I swore. “Best get moving.”

  “I’m lost,” Isabel said, looking to Asher with her brow furrowed.

  “I’ll tell you in a second,” he murmured. “Let Jas do her thing.”

  With my Hemlock magic freshly restored, it took no time for me to find the threads of magic in the air and pull them apart, revealing the void. I stepped through into empty space, surrounded by wisps of magic, all that remained of the Hemlocks’ cave.

  Beyond lay the void, the Devourer’s corpse floating within it. While its magic couldn’t touch Evelyn, she could do nothing to stop it from leaking out through the holes in the spirit line.

  Evelyn floated before me. “I told you to stay away, Jas. I will kill you this time.”

  “I think you’re missing something.” I held up the globe, which ignited in my hands. “I claimed it. I’m the leader of the Hemlock Coven.”

  “What?” Her eyes flew wide. “You can’t be. I’m a Hemlock witch, Jas. You’re nobody.”

  “Last I checked, that’s not how the coven magic system worked,” I said. “I claimed this first. That makes me the leader. If you want to be my Second, you’d better be quick.”

  “I’ll kill you.”

  As she lunged at me, I whipp
ed the bell out of my pocket and hurled it at her. She spun to avoid it, and the globe’s magic radiated outward in streams of green light, knocking her away from me.

  “You can’t be leader,” she growled. “You can’t create a coven without a Third as well as a Second.”

  “I know. I have one.” I beckoned to Asher, who still looked wary, confused.

  Isabel, on the other hand, gave me a faint smile of understanding. She knew.

  Evelyn’s eyes widened. “You?”

  “Me,” he said. “Jas used her magic to undo my blood curse, so I’m officially part of your coven now. Once I accept, that is. I’m offering you the chance to step ahead of me as Second, since you have more right to the Hemlock magic than I do.”

  To emphasise his point, I tapped into my Hemlock magic, urging its tendrils to wrap around him. In truth, his curse remained active, since my Hemlock magic could only stall it, not cancel it out—but Evelyn didn’t know any better. She assumed there was nothing the Hemlocks’ power couldn’t do.

  “I’d choose quickly,” I bluffed. “I might add that this power source can remove Hemlock magic as well as gifting it. If you want to relinquish your magic, you’ll get to keep your immortality, but that was never what you wanted, was it?”

  Somewhere in the void were the bodies and spirits of the remaining Hemlock witches, lost forever. Their last potential heir, Wanda, was dead, too. Our magic was dying, as the god’s power ate away at the threads binding the worlds together.

  But I had enough magic to invoke the Hemlock curse once more.

  “You conniving bitch.” Her eyes darted to the globe, envy shining in her eyes. “There’s nothing to stop me from murdering you as soon as I become your Second. I accept.”

  Magic unfurled from the globe, wrapping around me. It snaked down my arms, turning into symbols similar to Isabel’s. Power that would defend me from harm. Evelyn must know that, but greed and desperation drove her onward.

  “And I accept my position as Third,” Asher said, his voice gravelly. A rush of power bolstered mine, weaker, but enough to count.

  Evelyn couldn’t see past her own desperate need to own the Hemlock Coven, body and soul. She’d kill both of us to take the power back.

  Too bad she’d never have that chance.

  I closed my eyes and searched for the remnants of the Hemlock curse, feeling every thread of power winding through my blood and bones, finding the right symbols, invoking them. I let the globe leave my hands, hovering in mid-air, surrounded by swirling glyphs.

  Then I opened my eyes. The globe hung suspended before me, bathed in the magic flowing from our hands. Below, the Devourer’s magic continued to spread in all directions, leaking through the holes in the void. We didn’t have much time.

  Threads of light formed glyphs, patterns, a binding spell as old as time itself. I poured everything into it, and where our magic touched the Devourer’s, the shadows died, blinking out of existence. The shape of the cave reformed where we stood, and my coven marks solidified on my arms.

  “You made me Second to turn yourself into a martyr again?” Evelyn’s expression was pure incredulity. “You want me to watch you die rather than killing you myself?”

  “Not quite.” I sucked in a painful breath. The globe floated before my eyes, encased in silver-green glyphs. A language I understood, instinctively at least. More than a language—a consciousness.

  Part of the god who’d given us our magic lived within the globe. Weakened, semi-conscious, but enduring.

  I reached out a stiffening hand—not with my body, but with my spirit—and touched the magic’s pulsing heart.

  Shock brushed against my palm. Then came tangible anger, fury as potent as though it was my own.

  YOU DARE TO TOUCH ME, MORTAL?

  Holy crap. The voice froze my core, sent icy tendrils fanning across my skin and fear brewing deep inside my soul. My voice came out in a whisper. “I want you to take it from me. Your magic.”

  YOU WISH TO SURRENDER YOUR GIFT?

  The words hurt, sundering my very soul. I sucked in another agonising breath, feeling my lungs contract.

  “Yes… I relinquish my position to my Second.”

  Evelyn’s eyes widened. “You can’t!” she said, her voice high, panicking.

  The god’s consciousness turned in her direction. YOU VOLUNTEERED, DID YOU NOT? BUT THIS ONE…

  He turned to Asher. THIS ONE BELONGS TO ANOTHER.

  “Not anymore,” Asher said, his voice loud, clear. “I have given up my bond to serve the Hemlocks.”

  I WILL NOT SHARE VESSELS WITH ANOTHER GOD. Power whipped out, lashing at him, but I forced myself into the way of the god’s magic. The threads of power fizzled out, absorbed into my own skin.

  “If there isn’t a Hemlock witch here, the Devourer’s magic will destroy the realms,” I gasped out. “I needed three people to make a coven. The others are dead—"

  WHICH OF YOU KILLED MY BRETHREN?

  Evelyn tried to run, but Isabel blocked her path out of the reformed cave, her own mouth tight with fear. Yet Evelyn had more reason to be afraid of the god. She was, after all, the one who’d killed Cordelia and the others.

  “It’s a lie,” said Evelyn. “Jas—”

  DO NOT LIE TO ME. I SAW YOU TRY TO STEAL MY MAGIC. NOW, YOUR LIFE AND MINE WILL BE ETERNALLY BOUND.

  Evelyn looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Stop him. Please.”

  “I won’t,” I said. “You’re coven leader now. You made your choices. You chose to repeat the mistakes of your first life in your second. You chose to kill the people I love. And now…” Green lights flared up and down my arms, the stone slipping away from my skin. “It’s all over for you.”

  She screamed. Lights flooded her from all sides of the cave, covering her body like a transparent coat. She raised her arms to shield her head, but the light was everywhere, igniting her skin from underneath.

  The hole in the universe gaped open, revealing the Devourer’s magic. I nodded to Asher, who was already reaching into the void, for the shadowy power that would remove the last traces of the blood curse. He’d lose his own magic along with it, but that was better than losing his life.

  Evelyn screamed again, her body buried in layers of green light. The tight sensation in my chest vanished, my body free to move once more. Evelyn’s immortal body, bones and blood and spirit alike, disappeared under a cover of stone-like bark, forming a huge tree. Roots extended along the spirit line itself, overlaying the cracks in reality, sealing every gap.

  Directing my magic at the rear of the cave, I widened the last remaining gap in the spirit line, pointing towards home. “Go!” I shouted to Isabel and Asher. “Climb out. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Shaking off the last remaining threads of Hemlock magic, I climbed through the hole after the others.

  A tendril of magic caught my ankle. I struggled against Evelyn’s grip, but she held me fast. I gave one last desperate lunge, and the gap in the universe sealed closed. The tree that had once been Evelyn rippled with glyphs, her magic encasing me in a bubble.

  Her voice whispered, “If I’m to be cursed, then you’ll be stuck here with me, Jas. Forever.”

  24

  Evelyn’s tree stood in the centre of the spirit line. At the peak, the globe rose into the air until the branches closed around it. I floated on the spot, searching in vain for an exit, but found nothing but green glyphs, white smoke, and nothingness.

  I had no magic left. No means of escape. I looked down and found I didn’t even have a body. My spirit was trapped here, suspended beyond reach.

  “Jacinda,” whispered a voice.

  A ghostly face appeared within the smoke—a face I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t seen it in the vision of Evelyn’s past.

  “That’s not my name,” I told Cordelia.

  “No,” she said. “But you were a true Hemlock in the end.”

  “Glad to hear I get some compensation for my untimely death.” Without magic, I was
just a ghost, nothing more. “You’re welcome.”

  “Jas.” Her voice grew fainter. “You’re a necromancer. A shade. You still have magic.”

  Some use it is now.

  Time blurred as I drifted in circles, trapped in the net of magic surrounding the tree. Shapes passed by, some living, some not. It grew harder and harder to remember who I was, who I’d been.

  A voice spoke from the foot of the tree’s roots. Quiet, so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Jas, I don’t know if you can hear me.”

  I stopped to listen. I knew that voice. I couldn’t see the speaker—could barely see the tree’s shape at all, in fact—but the stark pain in the disembodied voice cut me to the bone.

  “Aiden didn’t make it, Jas,” said the voice. “I’d appreciate it if you gave me a sign. A sign that you’re still in there. Please.”

  I struggled to make out the hunched shape of the speaker. A path threaded beneath the tree, on the other side of the veil trapping me, and below…

  Beyond the spirit line, I could see buildings, visible from above, a bird’s eye view of a city.

  Edinburgh. My home.

  I have to get out.

  How? There was no future for a lost spirit, tied to the spirit line by a mere thread of life.

  I twitched a hand. Blue light formed, sparked. Kinetic power.

  An exclamation came from somewhere far below. “She’s alive. I saw that.”

  “Sorry, Keir,” said another familiar voice, “but anyone can throw a kinetic spell. Any ghost, I mean. What makes you think it was her?”

  “I asked her for a sign she was in there.”

  “Dude, don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t you… I don’t know. I don’t want to tell you to get over it, but—”

  “You just did,” said the first voice. Now he sounded clipped, harsh, yet brittle. “Lloyd, I will not get over the death of someone who’s still breathing.”

  “In a coma, you mean. I miss her, too, but seriously, the mages are gonna have our heads if we get caught in here one more time—”

  My body is still alive? The thought fuelled me, made me aware of my form—faded, transparent, but still conscious. The details hit me over and over, like a flurry of tennis balls. I was alive. My body had made it out—Isabel and Asher must have carried me—and the others hadn’t given up on me.