The Witch's Quest

by Michele Hauf

  A crimson haze wove betwixt and between the obsidian tree trunks. Kelyn inhaled the mist like a dark witch’s drugged cocktail. And he landed on his feet in a clearing lighted by thousands of fluttering lampbugs. There, before him, loomed a void in the darkness in a form about as high as he was and no wider. Reaching forward, he touched the void. It was cold, and it actually flinched as his fingers barely skimmed the fabric. It was something...

  A woman spun about and he stepped back with a gasp. Adorned in floaty red fabric that barely covered her breasts and mons, her pale violet skin glinted. Her violet eyes beamed brightly, and her lavender lips curled into a wet, sensuous entreaty.

  Kelyn drew her in and sighed at her utter loveliness. He could taste her already and wanted to feel the skim of her bright skin over his.

  “You desire me, visitor?”

  Her voice slipped over his skin as if slickened with exotic oil and followed by what he imagined were greedy kisses.

  Entranced, Kelyn nodded. “I do.”

  The red fabric or dress—whatever it was she wore—seemed more a part of the misty haze and moved over her, caressing and always barely concealing. And that weird mist wove within her hair, which was so black it truly did appear a void set against the backdrop of dark trees.

  She opened her lush mouth and Kelyn saw the fangs, which glinted like diamonds. With a lift of her chin and a lowering of her lashes, she sniffed once and said, “You’ve the stink of witch on you, my faery warrior.”

  He liked being called such and took a step closer. Shaking his head, he couldn’t find words to argue or defend. All he desired was to be closer to her, to feel her, to be inside her...

  “She doesn’t love you.” Red sparkles dazzled the air as she spoke, seeming to form words in puffs before her. “She is a witch. Most wicked and vile.”

  Kelyn smiled drunkenly as the sparkles floated onto his face and tickled his eyelashes.

  “She uses her wiles as magic. A magic that destroyed you once and will do so again.”

  He followed the seductress’s hand, which swept gracefully before her, stirring the bewitching dust that had emanated with her words. One finger crooked and her coo of welcome splashed against him with roses and earth and all the scents of desire.

  With a purse of her lips, she teased him to kiss her. And he wanted to taste that luscious mouth.

  Stepping closer, he found himself surrounded by the curling ruby mist. It embraced and caressed, and everywhere it touched him he felt her lips on his bare skin. A man could close his eyes and get lost, never desiring to return.

  She hummed what sounded like an angel’s song, yet it was tinted with something deep and longing. Something illicit.

  Kelyn leaned closer, his feet planted on the ground and his wings fluttering to hold his body at an extreme forward angle. Tendrils of the woman’s hair wrapped across his shoulders, luring him into her sweet yet slippery seduction. He closed his eyes, ready to fall into the kiss...

  “Kelyn!”

  Snapped out of the enchantment, he hitched a look over his shoulder in the direction from which he’d heard Valor’s scream. She was still in Faery?

  The seductress grasped him by the neck, her thumb squeezing his windpipe and a long, sharp nail cutting his skin. “You are mine!”

  He felt his tongue rising, stretching as if she were trying to pull it out through his teeth. His jawbone cracked. Kelyn kicked at the woman, but his foot only plunged through red mist.

  Grasping at his back, he cursed that he’d left his bow and arrows in the mortal realm. A swing of his hand forward cut through the red mist, yet landed on no solid body. Briefly, he felt the thumb release from his neck, but as he gasped in a breath the squeeze of her fingers resumed.

  Again, his name carried through the dark woods, perhaps on a whisper of Valor’s air magic. It sounded sweeter than this bitch’s seductive mist. How had he managed to walk right up to her and not be suspicious?

  Grasping at the arm and hand that held him, his feet now off the ground, Kelyn dug in his fingers, but she didn’t flinch. The woman’s mouth snarled, and her fangs grew longer, stretching below her chin.

  “I will eat your tongue, wrong one,” she said on a growl.

  And he expected it to go down that way if he didn’t get out of this horrible vise clench quickly. In his periphery he saw the flashing illumination of hundreds of sprites buzzing about their struggle. Choking from the tug on his tongue, Kelyn swung out a hand and grasped madly. The burn of sprite fire pierced his fingers and palm, yet he clutched a few of the creatures. Not having a plan, and acting purely on instinct, Kelyn crammed the sprites into the seductress’s mouth as she lunged for him.

  Sprites squealed, and the bitch’s mouth sparked as if she’d swallowed fireworks. The red haze whipped about Kelyn’s body, squeezing his arms tight against his sides. But his tongue had been released and he was able to yell as the pain of having his organs compressed could not be squelched.

  And then, with a sudden hiss, the haze slipped away from him like a dead snake falling to the ground. The red mist spumed in a great mushroom cloud before him, covering the black void. Kelyn stumbled backward, his heel hooking on a tree root.

  When the mist dissipated it revealed the tree trunks and a few sprite corpses sprawled on the dense forest floor. No more red seductress.

  “Kelyn!”

  “Valor.” Energized by the call for help, Kelyn turned to sprint out of the forest, taking to the air with a flap of his wings and a surge of determination.

  Chapter 25

  Kelyn swooped down to land in the tall field grass before the violet-haired witch. He folded down his wings and rubbed his throat where ichor had dried from the cuts. He made a quick summation of the scene around him.

  The portal had not been breached. It still undulated, set within the sky and riding low over the meadow. Why hadn’t Valor left Faery? But more important, who was the faery standing beside her now? Didn’t the man know Valor was his woman? And no faery seductress would make him believe otherwise. He’d been close to dying in that seductress’s hands. Or, at the least, losing his tongue. Fool!

  But he wouldn’t stand powerless now.

  Kelyn grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him from the ground. In reaction, his captive repulsed Kelyn with but a nod of his head, lifting him from the ground and sending him backward to land against the portal’s base. Kelyn felt the weird liquid vibrations surround him, but he would not be sucked through. A familiar was necessary...

  He noted the kestrel falcon lying on the ground. Still. Dead? Had the witch done something to her?

  “What is going on?” Kelyn demanded. “What did you do to Matilda?”

  “Me?” Valor stabbed her chest in question. “You’re the one that severed your connection with her. You hurt her!”

  The mysterious man stepped up beside Valor. “This fool is the one you are so worried about missing?” the silver-eyed faery commented snidely. “He stinks of the Wicked.”

  “I am not. I sent the demon off after he left me with tattered wings!”

  “Yes, you gave him a cipher.” The stranger clucked his tongue accusingly. “Poor move. You and the bird were connected through that talisman. She’ll not listen to you again unless you get it back. But the stink that clings to you is very much demon. You’ve been kissing a Wicked One in the Wilds.”

  The faery served Valor a side glance and she, in turn, crossing her arms tightly, cast an accusing glare at Kelyn.

  Kelyn stood with a proud thrust of his shoulders and flapped his wings once, drawing them tight together and straight out behind him in warning. “I am Kelyn Saint-Pierre, and I am faery.”

  “Saint-Pierre?” The man narrowed his gaze on Kelyn. Adorned in clothing that looked as if it had been stolen from a museum featuring aristocratic cou
rt costumes, the pompous bit of pouf and jewelry had the audacity to challenge him with his sneering smirk. Who was he? “Do you know Rissa?”

  Startled to hear that name from the stranger, Kelyn could but speak the truth. “She’s my mother. And who are you?”

  “He’s King of the Unseelies,” Valor interrupted. “Where were you? Is he telling the truth? Were you kissing another woman? I thought we were going back to the mortal realm together. And Matilda! Some snake creature shot flames at her and took her out.”

  “A wyvern,” the Unseelie king said. “Malicious bits of fire and scale, but they are not carnivores. I sense the falcon is still alive, if wounded. Let me hold her. I’ll give her back the vita she has lost. Not that it’ll help your return journey home.”

  Kelyn stepped before the fallen bird. “No, she’s mine. And I don’t care what you’re king of, you can step away from Valor right now. She’s mine.”

  Valor bristled at that announcement.

  “You certainly claim a lot while standing in a land that isn’t your own,” Malrick said.

  “Faery is my home.”

  “Not at all,” Malrick proclaimed. “You, boy, belong where you were born. There is a reason we are come into this world in the realm in which we are placed. No one is misplaced. Ever.” The king twisted his beringed fingers about the crystal staff. “Rissa’s son, eh? A sylph with soft pink curls and a ruby-rose mouth? I loved her once.”

  Kelyn gaped at the man. His mother had never told him about an Unseelie king. Or had she mentioned him in her faery tales? He couldn’t believe him—Malrick. Didn’t want to. It didn’t matter anyway. He would not allow the man to dissuade him from his explorations.

  “That was a long time ago,” Malrick added.

  “My mother was born in Faery. Are you telling me she was not misplaced to the mortal realm and should still be here?”

  “No. She was called to the mortal realm, as some are. She belongs there now, but she is always welcome in her homeland. And in my...well...” Malrick let that one hang.

  And rightfully so. The creep.

  “Ah.” Malrick walked around before Kelyn. “Your wings are tainted with blood from the Wicked. That’s what’s making you so obstinate. They can be cleansed and you’ll be in your right mind again. He’s changed, yes?” He turned a look to Valor. “Not who he once was?”

  “You’re telling me. The Kelyn I know would never have left me to return to the mortal realm alone. Though he did warn me before we came here that very thing might happen.”

  “Exactly,” Kelyn snapped at her. “So get yourself back to where you belong and leave me here where I belong. Let the Unseelie heal Matilda, and then she can guide you back.” He picked up the bird and handed her over to the king, who carefully took the bird, but also gripped Kelyn’s wrist. The sigils burned brightly on Kelyn’s skin, searing painfully, and it took all his strength to rip away from the grasp. “What in Beneath?”

  “Not Beneath, boy. This is Faery. And it is not your home. Nor will it ever be. You seek to find your roots? They are buried deep and sure within your family, which resides in the mortal realm.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. You spout nonsense to confuse me.”

  Malrick gently caressed the bird at his chest. “I never speak nonsense. And I would never lie to Rissa’s son.”

  The king bowed his head over Matilda and kissed her soft, feathered crown. Whispering words Kelyn did not recognize, but that he felt in his veins, the man tended the bird carefully. Silver static sparkled over Matilda’s body, flashing in reds, violets and gold.

  Kelyn glanced to Valor. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she shoved her hands in her back pockets and toed the grass with a boot. He’d almost kissed the Wicked red seductress. Almost. But obviously Valor believed otherwise.

  Every moment he stood defiant before the Unseelie king and the witch, he betrayed the woman he loved. But...he was home. And it felt right. Maybe?

  He didn’t belong? Then where did he belong?

  Malrick released Matilda, who flew up into the sky with a joyful peal and began to circle their trio, waiting for her cue to lead them back through the portal.

  But Kelyn wasn’t about to leave. And nothing could make him. Not a Faery king. Not even a guilty conscience.

  Lifting his palm, he touched a sigil on his chest and repulsed the king with a blast of focused faery energy.

  Malrick stumbled backward, and only by stabbing his staff into the ground did he prevent himself from falling.

  Valor cast him an accusing glare. Why hadn’t she left when he’d been determined to stay? He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t want her around him now. Because, indeed, he’d been tainted by the demon’s blood coursing through his wings. And yet that taint felt powerful and he could use it to survive in this land so unknown to him.

  It was for Valor’s sake that he must be cruel to be kind.

  Malrick approached and Kelyn unfurled his wings to their full expansion, displaying them in all their glory. “You stay back. This is what I choose. The witch can leave. She’ll be much better off without me.”

  “No, Kelyn, I won’t be,” Valor said. She sniffed back tears.

  Really? Again with the tears? Since when had Valor become such an emotional, pouty...woman? Well, he wasn’t going to let the ridiculous display affect him. And the tug of remorse in his chest was a fluke. The result of testing his newly returned magic.

  “I love you!” Valor suddenly shouted.

  Malrick lifted a brow, silently imploring with a don’t you want that?

  “You love me, too,” Valor insisted. “I know you do. So does your family. You’ve no family here in Faery.”

  “I belong here!”

  “You do not,” Malrick insisted.

  With a splay of his hands, Kelyn announced, “Then I belong nowhere.”

  “You belong here.” Valor thumped her chest, right over her heart. “Don’t stay, Kelyn. You have nothing here! You won’t even have the cooperation of the Unseelie king. That’s got to warn you.”

  Malrick shrugged and with a flick of his beringed fingers, he offered, “I can be what the mortals deem an asshole at times.”

  “Yeah? Well, so can I.”

  Kelyn charged the king, slamming into his chest. Intense magic clashed with his own. He felt it in every pore, vein and bone. Shoving off from the ground, the twosome soared through the faded azure sky. Flapping their wings, they traveled higher, struggling with both fists and wings. The king was more powerful; Kelyn knew that. But he wasn’t about to give up so easily.

  “How could I even return now?” he asked as he deflected a kick from Malrick. “If what you said about my connection to Matilda being severed is true.”

  “She trusted you once. But you gave away that trust. It will have to be re-earned.”

  “I had no idea the cipher bonded us!”

  “Oh, yes, you did!”

  Malrick swung up his staff, catching Kelyn in the gut. Intense electricity shot through him. His wings ceased flapping and he dropped. As he fell, he saw Matilda fly low, aiming for the portal. The time to enter must be drawing to a close. The kestrel could sense it; he knew that. He needed Valor to go through.

  Suddenly Malrick twisted in the air and, from behind, he clasped Kelyn across the chest. He tried to beat his wings, but the Unseelie king held tight. The king chanted foreign words that felt ancient and sacred. Faery language? They seeped into Kelyn’s thoughts, softening and...oh, the ache for acceptance. Then, all of a sudden, Malrick released him with a push that sent Kelyn soaring toward the portal.

  Malrick called from the sky, “You may return for a visit, son of Rissa! That is all you are welcome to do here in Faery. Be kind to the kestrel. But be patient. She does not trust you now. Begone, the both of you!”
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br />   Try as he could to flap his wings, Kelyn couldn’t halt his trajectory. Below him Valor raced toward the portal. Matilda pierced the skein and flew through, followed by the witch, and—it was as if he were being sucked into a vortex.

  Kelyn yelled as he was forced from Faery.

  Chapter 26

  He had to be alive.

  After all they had been through, Valor was not going to let it come down to Kelyn dying after he’d finally gotten back the one thing that meant more to him than even her.

  Palms pressed to his chest, she couldn’t feel it rise and fall. He lay sprawled across the loamy forest floor. Tree roots cradled him on either side. Matilda circled above. Valor sensed the bird’s nervous energy. Matilda knew something was wrong with her friend. Or was she still Kelyn’s friend? The things Malrick had said about the bird no longer trusting Kelyn were horrible. A simple talisman had bonded the two of them?

  Since walking into Faery, Kelyn had betrayed both of their trusts.

  Glancing at the wings spread across the ground, Valor couldn’t find excitement for the fact that the darkness had left them. Now violet and silver, they’d returned to their original condition and were no longer tattered. Malrick had done that for Kelyn. The Unseelie king had also been responsible for forcing Kelyn back into this realm.

  But to his detriment?

  “You are not dead,” she stated as a confirmation to the universe. “I will not allow it! You survived nearly drowning. You can survive this! Come back to me, Kelyn.”

  She laid her ear on his chest and listened and...she heard a heartbeat. Faint and slow, yet it seemed to increase by the second. Spreading her fingers over his bare chest, she closed her eyes and focused her vita toward him. Her palms heated over the violet sigils that tickled at her touch and then they grabbed her and held her there as if by force.

  It didn’t frighten her. In fact, Valor felt as though Kelyn were drawing on her energy through his sigils. If he could heal himself through her, then more power to him.