The Dark Witch
and the Elemental
By Tabitha Scott
This work is copyrighted. No part of this book may be reproduced in
any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner. Don’t touch my stuff.
Copyright 2018 © by K. S. A. Butcher
All rights reserved.
Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada
ASIN:
Disclaimer and Acknowledgement:
Usual stuff… this is fiction, and the stories told are therefore fictitious. Any similarity to other dark witches is purely coincidental, unless they stole my stuff, in which case I’ll get them somehow. Where background research was needed I relied largely on Wikipedia. Oh, Angelika Rust did a lot of editing for me, but I gave her a dedication, so…
For the front cover I’ve used the Grave digger font by Dieter Schumacher.
Dedication:
This volume of the Dark Witch series is dedicated to my author friend Angelika Rust, who has kindly edited and beta read many of the Dark Witch series. Angelika is an author of Urban and other Fantasy books herself, which can be found at https://angelikarust.wordpress.com/ I recommend these to anyone who reads this book.
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Table of Contents
The Dark Witch
Disclaimer and Acknowledgement:
Dedication:
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Decisions, decisions
Chapter 2: What the shit?
Chapter 3: Ultrasounds
Chapter 4: Babies and murder
Chapter 5: Dublin fair city
Chapter 6: Undue considerations
Chapter 7: Evil doing: unlimited
Chapter 8: Dublin Castle
Chapter 9: The IDA
Chapter 10: Seelie interventions
Chapter 11: Raven gossip
Chapter 12: She almost killed me
Chapter 13: Charlotte
Chapter 14: Whoops
Chapter 15: Coffee time!
Chapter 16: Super Bitch
Chapter 17: Baby coming
Chapter 18: To kill, or not…
Chapter 19: Cat calls
Chapter 20: Shots
Chapter 21: Truth for truth
Chapter 22: Wallflowers
Chapter 23: Arawan
Chapter 24: The Dark
Chapter 25: The Tortured
Chapter 26: Faerie daughters
Chapter 27: Hermitage Castle
Chapter 28: The Tunnels
Chapter 29: Loyalties?
Chapter 30: Drones
Chapter 31: Sisters
Chapter 32: Eppy
Chapter 33: A house in the country
Chapter 34: The birthing of twins
Chapter 35: I so had this
Chapter 36: I don’t do magik right
Chapter 37: Girl talk
Chapter 38: The Third Copy
Chapter 39: Secrets kept
Chapter 40: Seduction couture
Chapter 41: The ankle bracelet
Chapter 42: First date
Chapter 43: Human flesh
Chapter 44: It’s a bit shite
Chapter 45: Unseelie regents
Chapter 46: Preggers
Chapter 47: Eppy’s dress
Chapter 48: The invocation.
Chapter 49: Getting ready
Chapter 50: Revelations
Chapter 51: It’s time
Chapter 52: I feel no grief
Chapter 53: Heart of stone
Chapter 54: The coming of death
Chapter 55: Catatonic
Chapter 56: Graduation
A call to readers:
The Series to date:
Chapter 1: Decisions, decisions
I think I’ll off her. I mean, she’s got a real nerve coming here and pretending to be one of us. I’ve almost decided to do it, the only trouble being there are so many others. Do I just stop at the one?
I’m standing at the edge of the gathering cloaked in darkness so that no one is paying me any attention. I suppose if the little bitch becomes aware that Susan’s guardian is standing just a few feet away from her, staring daggers at her back, she’d pee herself silly, but she doesn’t know. My magiks have grown that strong that I can shield myself from most magikal beings. Well, those of semi-mortal inclination, anyway.
This is really ticking me off. It’s not just the one little pip squeak in front of me, but the fact that there are so many of them. Hatchesput has called a gathering of the British covens, some of the Irish have even come, hailing her the Fai Queen of Hibernia. Another trophy title for the Grand High Witch of Britain. We’ve gathered at Dunnottar Castle, the traditional hold of our now depleted coven. There’s only a few of us left, we’re scattered around the proceedings, watching. It’s too dangerous for us all to congregate in the one place. We’re all targets.
You’d think that after the truth about the ruby slippers had been revealed everyone would have turned to our side. I mean, it was all a lie. The covens that had aligned themselves against us have been told the truth. They had believed that the ruby slippers were a magikal relic that would take them from this world to the salvation of some Utopian otherworld where they could survive if Susan dies.
Susan. Susan is my younger aunt, hundreds of years younger than myself, a daughter of Gaea born to the world as a test. If Susan dies the world is purged of all life. Only the immortal races would survive that. The Fae covens aren’t immortal. They’d all perish, but some still seem to believe in the false hope that the ruby slippers held. Humph, some Utopia that was. I took two of the turncoats there to the Seelie’s old home world – that’s where the slippers take you. It was nothing but barren rock, where the bones of those who had already gone there had fallen prey to the giant creatures that now roam that world.
No wonder the Seelies don’t live there anymore. What’s the opposite of Utopia? Closest thing to hell I’ve ever seen. I’d almost peed my own pants trying to get us back. Thankfully, I’d managed it, and the two turncoats turned back to our side real quick like, telling everyone else who’d listen that it was all a lie. Trouble is, not everyone believes them. There are still plenty of Fae out there who would slit our throats given half a chance. On the bright side, there are a lot of Fae legitimately standing by our side, so pluses and minuses, it all makes for a bit of excitement.
Now that the Unseelie King has been taken prisoner – he was one of those behind the ruby slippers plot to divide the Fae against us – the otherworldly enchantments that had hidden the traitors from my true seeing are lifted. I can see them everywhere. There are quite a few who aren’t on our side at all, and then there are even more that don’t believe, or don’t know if they should believe what the two witches up the front of the gathering are telling them. One Fae bitch I’m watching now is going the whole gambit from believing, to not believing, from being loyal to wanting to kill us, and back again. There are lots of others like her too, obviously undecided. Do I off them as well?
There must be over six hundred Fae gathered here to listen to the two witches I took to the other world (and all the other witnesses who were there at the time). Some are listening, but for others, the words are falling on death ears. They’re likely to betray us, maybe here and now. There’s so many of them though, where do I start?
“I wouldn’t if I were you.”
I’d felt him approach, he can’t really take me by surprise, I always know where he is. I think it’s because we bonk each other stupid, there’s some sort of special connection because of that, though, actually, he’s wearing the body of a rather sensuously endowed green witch right now. Hmm. I guess he’s trying to
blend in, though that body is going to draw some rather serious attention from this crowd. The LB community is alive and well here.
“Why not? I can just start with this one in front of me, and see how things…”
“Yeah, I can see that, total mayhem, you’d have to take out about a hundred Fae, and then the rest wouldn’t know what was going on, they’d think you were just randomly killing everyone. They’d all turn on you.”
Well… that just makes too much damn sense. I pout as I realise he’s right. Ficketty fecking angels just suck all the fun out of life.
“Who made you my conscience anyway?”
Master reaches into the green and black bodice that is currently holding up his cleavage and holds out a card. I take it, and smirk when I see what he has written on it.
“Theodore Master, Angel extraordinaire, by appointment of Gaea, official conscience of dark hearted Furies.”
Humph, there’s really only me, I’m the only Fury around here, and he makes that stuff up anyway, I’m pretty sure. Yeah, Master is a card carrying angel, literally. Trouble is those cards of his keep changing to fit the situation. I guess it’s true though, I mean, angels can’t lie. They often prognosticate, avoiding a straightforward answer, but they can’t lie. Oh, I’m a bit more than the Dark Witch I always thought I was, I’m sorta a type of Fury, though actually, I’m the Thanatos Moerae, maybe a cousin to the Furies – a distant one. Probably a bit more dark hearted than they are, though I’ve never met them. Hey, I wonder if they party? Maybe I should try and find them?
“Yeah, you might be okay with them. They may not tear your heart out. You’re female, that’s a plus, and they may actually recognise you as something akin to themselves.”
Master has read my thoughts and is answering those. He can do that, bastard.
“Something to look forward to then. Fury party!” I hackle.
Gil comes up to my side. She can’t really read my thoughts like Master, but as my familiar she can definitely sense them. Hmm, that may sound like the same thing, but magik is very precise, there are subtleties to everything.
“What’s going on?” she asks. “Somethings not right with some of the Fae, is it?”
“Could you sense some of that yourself?” Gil nods her head at my question. She has magik of her own, hell, most the Fae gathered here must feel the tension. This whole thing could erupt into a shit fight at any moment.
“Half the Irish here aren’t loyal,” I answer, “not by a long shot. Those covens seeking forgiveness are dithering. Many of their members are unsure. Some are adamantly against us. They don’t believe what they’re being told. This could end up as a blasting match.”
I look over part of the crowd to where I can see Pulania in her watch position. By the way her brow is knit I can tell she’s not terribly impressed either. She can look after herself though, as a tainted daughter of Gaea she’s pretty kickass when she needs to be.
“This isn’t going to end well,” I murmur flatly. Then something occurs to me. “Hey, Master, what are you doing here? You’re not just being my conscience, you’re here for a reason.”
His eyes, his eyes are very sad. He leans in toward me and holds my hand. Less than a moment later, something happens to me, the hairs on the back of my neck raise, and then there’s just this pain from my stomach. Something’s happening to me, there’s cramping. It hurts. I squeeze his hand. It hurts so much. But as quickly as the pain comes, it eases. Then I can feel something else.
Heads rise and turn toward the landward side of the castle promontory. Many of the other Fae can feel it as well. It hits us all like a soft breeze, at first, but it’s anything but. It’s a wave of… the only way I can describe it is a wave of magik. For a moment, everything stops. The speeches from the witches at the front with Hatchesput, the soft murmur of conversation, the movement of the crowd, the twittering and humming of the birds and insects around us; everything stops. Everyone’s attention is to the west of us, even those who haven’t the power to feel what’s going on follow our lead, everyone is looking to where the power originates. It’s diffuse, but it’s powerful, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Then the rush comes, it’s a rush of magiks and wind. Whoa, that’s enough, people are already in the air… fleeing on their brooms. Bedlam ensues, the Fae are rushing to escape whatever is coming.
“What’s happening?” Gil calls out to me over the noise that’s erupted from the crowd.
“I don’t know,” I answer, because I don’t. I have no bloody idea.
Master leans in to me, and whispers in my ear so that only I can hear, “It will be alright.” But I’m not so sure, that sad look is still there in his eyes. I get the impression that he’s broken a few angel rules to tell me those few words, and then, as if to confirm my fears, he’s gone. Called back for angelic punishment? I hope not.
I’m jostled by a few of the fleeing crowd, there are quite a number of them stuck on foot. They’re running all over the place. I don’t know why, there’s no place to go. If something is coming it’s coming for all of us, and now. We may as well stand ready to face it. I strip the darkness that hides me and rise up through the crowd on my wings. All the Fae can see me. I must be a sight. Then from somewhere deep inside me something quite visceral rises up, some sort of raw instinctual reaction bursts out from my chest. I can’t call it a roar, it’s more of a screech, a high pitched screech that carries over the whole promontory. It reverberates through the air, and then when I’m finished, the wind is gone, the feeling is gone. So is much of the crowd.
Chapter 2: What the shit?
“What the shit just happened?” Hatchesput is by my side. Pulania and Gil are here too.
“I don’t know,” I reply, because I don’t. I look to Pulania, she knows stuff, she’s hundreds of years old and has probably seen more than anyone else here, including Hatchesput. She’s a veritable fountain of strange magiks and weird shit knowledge, but her eyes just turn away from me when I look at her. Huh?
“Well,” Hatchesput replies, “we all know what that magik from the mainland was.”
Do we? News to me. I’d ask her what she means, but you don’t question Hatchesput. My eyes snap to Pulania again, but she’s definitely using avoidance tactics, she’s ignoring me completely. Bitch.
“What was that screaming you did?” Hatchesput puts to me.
“I… I don’t know, I just did it.”
Hatchesput’s eyes narrow and she stares at me for a moment, ruminating – she does that, she likes to take her time in deciding things. Finally she just spits out a gob of yellow sputum from the side of her mouth. “Eggheads,” she accuses.
Yeah, that’s what she calls Pulania and I. Eggheads, it’s like we’re a separate species or something, but I guess for Hatchesput we pretty much are. I mean she doesn’t really know what we are, but she knows we’re not dark witches. We’re dark, that’s for sure, though tainted with a bit of light we might be… and, we’re powerful, that’s hellishly for sure. Right now she’s prepared to leave it at that. We’ve been far too useful for any sort of confrontation, at least, for the moment.
“A good number of the Fae here weren’t loyal in the least,” Pulania changes the subject.
“You felt it too, did you?” Hatchesput replies. “Good thing they were all scared off, there were too many people who could sense that. It was bound to go badly if we hadn’t been interrupted. More to the point, there are only a little over a dozen of us left in the coven. If the traitors had all decided to turn on us, we wouldn’t have survived.”
Hatchesput was right about that. Even if we had some allies, a hundred or more witches targeting us at once wouldn’t have left much standing. Ficketty feck, even I’m not immortal. I’d have the scars to prove that… if I hadn’t used creation magiks to clean them all away.
Hatchesput is ruminating again. “We’ll desert Dunnottar for now, it’s not safe for us to gather here. It’s too open and we’re too few.”
“But what wi
ll we do, Your Majesty?” Pulania asks.
“We’ll head to Hermitage, number two Evality. The borderland castle will protect us while we sort out what’s what.”
“But it’s not a good place to defend against modern day witch tactics. It’s out in the open, with no place to fall back to if you’re attacked.”
“No, normally it wouldn’t be a good choice as a defendable location, but our numbers are sorely depleted. We need a hole to hide in, and it’s a good place to hide just because people believe it doesn’t defend well in modern battle. No one will expect us to go there, and with our smaller numbers it’s actually not that bad a place to defend as a last stand. It’s a smaller hold and has thick walls to protect us. We can watch each others’ backs there. Besides… I haven’t been idle over the centuries, I’ve added an underground passage or two we can use as a bolthole. Hermitage will do for now, it’s our best option until we sort something else out.”
Pulania nods her head in agreement with Hatchesput, but then adds a suggestion. “It would help if we strengthen the coven. I noticed that the dark coven from Ireland were all loyal to us, if not the other Irish themselves. You’re in a strong position to ask them to join us. They led the call for you to be Fae Queen of Hibernia.”
Hatchesput’s dour aspect actually perks up at that. “Not a bad idea, Number Two. We need to replenish our numbers. The Irish drink a bit, so that’s a pretty good recommendation, they’ll get on just fine with our girls. We’ll head to Hermitage, but I’ll send someone to make overtures. We’re vulnerable now, but we’ll be less so if the Irish join us. Hell, we’ll see who else we can muster in, there must be others.”
The old witch is pausing for a moment, and I can see the wily cogs rattling away in her brain. “You Eggheads go back to your own hole and watch that Susan girl. That’s your main job for the moment. Don’t let her be assassinated, they’ll try that again, those that aren’t loyal. But I have an idea. I just need some time to sort it out.”
The Dark Witch and the Elemental Page 1
