Witch Craft

by Caitlin Kittredge

  “Would it kill you to use my name?” I grunted. I pulled myself out of the wreckage of the HVAC. My side stung, but the flow of Asmodeus’s magick through me faded it away to nothing.

  A mob of the tiny, toothy yellow things ran at me, their red tongues lolling from their mouths like a herd of creepy, animated dolls. I braced myself for their onslaught, determined that I’d fling every last one of them back through the devil’s doorway, even if they chewed me to the bone.

  Cold swept over me, different from the wind or the magick of the Thelemites, and I saw a misty silver shape fly into the cluster of imps, spilling them like bowling pins.

  Lucas swirled to a stop next to me, his teeth bared. “Stay away,” he snarled. The imps scattered, chittering their disapproval.

  “Lucas?” I said. I felt disconnected, like I was watching it all on film, even my hand as it reached out for the incorporeal bits of his body.

  “Luna,” he said, and then really looked at me. His eyes flickered and he began to shift back in alarm. “Luna, what have you done? What’s inside you?”

  An explosive sound came from the direction of the elevators, fists hitting metal, and the door flew open, discharging a muscular red-tattooed creature with bulging eyes, teeth like a walrus, and curling ram horns.

  The tattoos were familiar. “Akira?” I said.

  “Not just me,” he rumbled. Kelly came out of the elevator, followed by Will and Sunny, Mac, Bryson, and Batista. A crowd of people I didn’t recognize were behind them. A few were Wendigo, like Lucas; many more were witches, their workings crackling around them like they’d drawn the lightning down. Some had scales or feathers, claws and fangs, or four feet instead of two. They all, to a man, looked angry as hell.

  “What did you do?” I echoed Lucas’s question.

  “Not me,” said Lucas. “Your cousin. She called on the oni and he called his friends. It’s their city, too.”

  A second wave of silver mist and teeth flowed over the edge of the roof, a trio of Wendigo alighting. Lucas gave me a crooked grin. “Those guys are mine.”

  Bryson cocked his arm back and pistol-whipped a harpy as she dove for him. Sunny drew down power and created a shimmering bubble of light magick in front of the ragtag cavalry, the Thelemite’s magick bouncing off it with a shower of sparks. Kelly got out his chalk and cleared away the gravel, drawing workings that spun and danced out like blades, cutting down a swath of the imps and knocking one of the minotaurs off its feet.

  Batista and Mac both had an M4 and they opened fire on the hags, silencing them mid-shriek. Will fought his way over to me, grabbing me by the arm. “Where’s the Maiden?”

  “We’re not finished here,” said Lucas. “Luna’s done something to herself.”

  He shifted back to human as his brethren howled past, falling on the great green hound and drinking its heart blood down. Lucas just stared into my eyes. I tried to tell him that everything would be fine, but it was so hard to look at him and see his human face. Asmodeus’s vision showed me the crimson, shrieking hunger behind it and I had to look away.

  “Luna,” he whispered. “You’re not … you’ve changed.”

  I’m sorry, I wanted to say.

  “Don’t be foolish, Luna,” Asmodeus said. “He would cut you down and drink my essence where we stand. Wendigo hunger. That is all.”

  His words made a certain amount of sense. Should they? I couldn’t tell any longer.

  Will dragged me away from Lucas. “Hate to say it, but you’re going to have to play this touching breakup scene later.”

  “Luna …” Lucas started, his face crumpled and desperate, but one of the harpies fell on him and he shifted back to mist, turning and sinking his talons into her chest.

  Bryson was taking fists and gun to anything that got close to him. Mac and Batista were reloading. Kelly and Sunny were flinging workings like they’d engaged in a desperate rooftop battle with spawn of a hell portal dozens of times.

  The Thelemites were scattered, and Akira picked up one and bit down on her middle. Blood covered the rooftop now, black, red, green, and anywhere in between.

  It didn’t matter. Will was taking me, and we were going to find the Maiden, the keeper of the doorway. Through my new eyes, Will was terrible and mighty—a halo of pure white fire around his head and blood trailing from black hollows that were his eyes. A great thorn twisted in his chest, where his heart should be, an old wound that spread black tendrils into the energy around him, binding his life so close and tight that it could never escape.

  The curse, when I looked at it, was beautiful in the way that a blade is beautiful, or the fiery aftermath of a bomb is brilliant.

  “It was the greatest thing I ever did.” Sophia stepped in front of me, Grace next to her. Her eyes were pure white, clouded with the form riding her body. “Ensnaring him for eternity, in his greed.”

  Will slowed to a stop, his jaw slackening. “I’ve been looking for you for such a long time.”

  The Maiden ran her hands over her brand-new virgin body. Around us, the sounds of the battle faded as her power rose. “And now that you’ve found me, William, what course do you propose we take?”

  Will drew his weapon. “I’m going to send you back to the seventh hell. Where you belong.”

  The Maiden threw her head back and laughed. “How long have you been practicing those words, William?”

  Will stepped forward and pressed the gun into her forehead.

  This wasn’t right. Asmodeus watched dispassionately, but I grabbed Will’s arm. “No. There’s still a person in there.”

  “The quality of mercy is usually wasted,” said the Maiden. She still smiled. “It makes you weak. Human.”

  “If you shoot her, she’ll just find a new host,” I said. “That’s how she’s stayed alive all of this time, Will.” I tightened my grip as he struggled to raise the gun again. “Your curse can’t be broken with another death.”

  Will shook his head. “Four hundred years, and I’m not losing the chance to end it.”

  “This isn’t an end,” I said. “She’ll turn you into a murderer and you’ll live with it forever.”

  “Let him go, Luna. Let him run wild. He will make it much easier for you.”

  “Shut up,” I hissed. Will and the Maiden both looked at me askance.

  “You can’t imagine how I suffered for you,” Will said, raising his pistol again. “All of the years, all of the days, death after death …”

  “William.” The Maiden reached out and stroked his cheek. “I didn’t do a thing to you. You brought it on yourself—your lust and your petty need for power. You and you alone are the bearer of the curse. I taught you a lesson, at the most.”

  “You’ll pay,” Will ground out. “You’ll die, and I’ll die, and you’ll roast on a spit.”

  “Will.” I leaned close to him. Could I get the gun away from him? Not in time. Not fast enough to keep Sophia from getting a head shot. “She’s just playing with you. She’s not worth it.” I slid my grip down to his wrist, touched his skin. “You’re not a murderer, Will.”

  He gave an all-over shudder, and lowered the gun. “Is she right?” he ground out. “Is there no way to break it?”

  The Maiden spread her arms. “The same way it has always been, William. End my life. But I am without end. It seems you have a quandary.”

  Will sagged, and I saw his knees give out. He sat down on the gravel and pressed his hands over his face. “I have to die,” he whispered. “It must end … nothing is without an end.”

  “Just me,” said the Maiden. “I am eternal, as my new city is eternal.”

  Grace touched her shoulder and she hissed at her, power lashing out and drawing a line of blood across Hartley’s face. “You presume?”

  “I am merely suggesting a retreat,” said Hartley. “The violence is growing worse and I fear for your safety.”

  “I fear for yours, if you continue speaking,” the Maiden said. Hartley backed away, and the Maiden looked
over the rooftop. “You’ll excuse me,” she said. “But the doorway will bring the daemon wanderers through, and I cannot have this reception waiting. Either call your people off or I will make sure they end up as broken dolls on the sidewalk below.”

  I stepped in front of Will, blocking her advance toward him with my body. “I got a better idea—how about you go Hex yourself and I shut the doorway, or your mother over there can identify your body.”

  “She is not my mother,” said the Maiden. “She’s nothing to me. I am ageless and—”

  “You’re eternal. I got it the first time,” I snarled, as she took another step toward me.

  “Don’t you want to join me? Be one of my fold? I can arrange that, you know. All you have to do is die.”

  She raised her hands and I saw the energy crackle off the heartstone and fly to her. The working formed, coalesced, and flew toward me. I braced myself for the impact, but instead I felt my Path energy spring to life and take the magick in, like grabbing a naked wire with my bare hands.

  In the back of my mind, Asmodeus smiled. The Maiden lowered her hands. “Impossible.”

  I flexed my fingers, my claws growing sharp and black with the influx of energy. “Apparently not.”

  She backed away from me. “What are you?”

  My own voice surprised me. “I am the Wanderer.”

  The Maiden’s eyes widened. “Not possible …” she quavered.

  Asmodeus spoke through me again. I was frozen inside my own head and I didn’t like it one bit. “I am the protector of the space between.”

  “You are lost to all,” the Maiden cried. “And I have my own daemon to keep as a pet. You don’t frighten me.” She spread her hands and I felt a vibration through the aether, like a dog whistle made of power.

  This wasn’t good.

  “If you’re not frightened,” Asmodeus whispered, “then you should be. You are old, but your days are dust compared to mine. I am the Wanderer, and you have trespassed in my tracks.”

  “And I do not care,” said the Maiden. She pointed over my shoulder and I turned under Asmodeus’s power. I fought, but it didn’t do any good—I was riding shotgun. He was in control.

  Will let out a choked sound, and pointed toward the edge of the roof. Cerberus was slithering toward us, his hound heads flinging spittle and his teeth gleaming sharp as steel blades.

  “Crap,” I squeaked, in my own voice.

  Cerberus drew up, and his triplet nostrils flared as he scented me. “Skin-changer?” he said, the three voices screeching discordantly. “You are changed …”

  “This is not your world,” Asmodeus said.

  Cerberus snarled, his lips drawing back over those teeth, like I was watching some nightmarish mirror. “You and I share no friendship, Wanderer.”

  “Nevertheless, I will send you back to where you belong,” Asmodeus said, sounding smug.

  I felt his control of my body slip just a bit, as he focused on Cerberus. I was not going to be ripped apart because of a demonic pissing contest. I forced the words out, my own voice, and it echoed inside my brain like a hammer against my skull.

  “She called you a pet, Cerberus.”

  Cerberus looked at the Maiden with one of his heads. “Lies,” she said. Too quickly. “I let you out … I’m on your side!”

  “The skin-changer speaks the truth,” Asmodeus said, back in the driver’s seat. “She would set you on her enemies and leash you with her favor.”

  Cerberus let out a howl that vibrated my teeth. “No one is my master! I am the hound of the seven hells! I guard the gateway!”

  He lowered his heads and advanced on the Maiden, and her eyes went wide.

  “I can’t die,” she said. It was meant as a threat, but it came out like a protest.

  “No,” said the daemon. “But you can suffer.” Cerberus leapt, caught her between his jaws, and shook the body like a doll. The Maiden let out a scream and I saw through Asmodeus’s eyes the bruise-purple curls of aura around Sophia’s body retreat and gather into an orb above her corpse as her own life force ran out.

  Her body fell back to the gravel, blood spattering her face. Her torso and legs were nearly at right angles, the center of her a bloody mess.

  “No one is my master,” Cerberus said with a satisfied chuckle. He was larger than when the Thelemites had called him, and more intelligence gleamed in his six eyes than I was comfortable with.

  “We have to do something about him,” I said.

  “The heartstone, Insoli,” Asmodeus whispered.

  “There’s no way I can destroy that thing,” I said. “It’s a freaking rock.”

  “If you do not destroy the focus, the devil’s doorway will rip a hole in the aether large enough to swallow most of this city.”

  I looked toward the doorway. It was getting bigger. The Maiden’s control was gone, and she drifted above the fray. The doorway was lifting the gravel around it, beginning to pull from our world into the daemon realm.

  “Let me take charge, Insoli,” Asmodeus said. “I know what to do.”

  I took a halting step toward the heartstone, against my will. “No,” I said. I stopped us by folding one leg and sitting down hard.

  “No?” Asmodeus sounded incredulous. “This is the bargain you struck. My power flows freely in you and I am in control until the doorway is shut.”

  I was up again, and moving toward the heartstone. “No!” I said, louder.

  Darkness slipped over my vision, and I saw Asmodeus’s eyes, glowing with fury. What would something like him do with the power of the heartstone, if he touched it? Become whole, like Cerberus? Open something a thousand times larger and worse than the devil’s doorway?

  “You are not in control, Luna,” he hissed at me. Gone was the conciliatory tone. “I am the guardian and I will have the stone. What reason have you that I cannot?”

  I grabbed my penknife from my pocket, a small gesture that required minimal effort. Every inch of movement was torture as we fought over control of my body.

  “Because I don’t trust you,” I whispered, and plunged the knife into my thigh.

  The pain made everything snap clear for a moment—my limbs came back, along with hot white pain, and my vision cleared into human, the spectral wisps of energy around the people and creatures on the rooftop blowing away. Even Cerberus looked marginally less terrifying.

  “Oh, Insoli,” Asmodeus growled. “This is a fight you are going to lose. You are one against me. Less than nothing.”

  “I may be nothing to you,” I snarled. “But I’m not alone.” I got up and staggered toward the heartstone, under my own power. All of the wounds I’d sustained started to hurt again, shoulder and side and chest.

  I fell against the heartstone, shoving it with all of my strength. It budged maybe an inch across the gravel. Asmodeus laughed.

  “No one is going to help you, Insoli. You have nothing.”

  I pushed again, gaining another inch. The thing weighed close to five hundred pounds, fatted with magick, and my strength was fading. My wounds were bleeding in earnest now, from the strain. I felt Asmodeus’s energy running out of me.

  “If you wish to be alone, Insoli … so be it,” he whispered. “The next time that I see you, it will not be as an ally. I promise you.”

  There was a flicker of warmth in my chest, a flash of gold behind my eyes, and then he was gone. I was alone, next to the heartstone, bleeding and dying.

  Just like I’d started.

  I pushed again, black dots swimming in front of my eyes, and I jumped when a second body joined me, sending the stone flying.

  Will looked at me. “Jesus Christ. You need a hospital.”

  “The doorway,” I gasped in return. “Send it through.”

  “The Maiden is dead,” Will said flatly. “Gone. This thing could be my last chance.”

  “Will.” I put my hand on his chest, leaving a smear of blood. “For once, could you stop fucking thinking about yourself?”

  H
e gave me a one-sided smile. “You really are stubborn, you know that?” He put his hands next to mine and we shoved. A moment later someone else came running and Sunny joined in, her small hands white-knuckled against the rock. There was a kiss of cool moisture on my bloody face and Lucas was there, shifted, his prodigious strength enough to lift the stone and send it flying.

  It caught the edge of the sucking void the doorway had become and then with a thud of displaced air it vanished through the devil’s doorway.

  A shriek went up, from the doorway, as it began to close, funneling energy through a tiny space. The creatures on the roof turned their heads, and then they began to run, or fly—fleeing from the doorway any way they could.

  “Down!” Sunny shouted in my ear, yanking at me. “It’s going to discharge the working’s energy!”

  The only thing that didn’t get clear in time was Cerberus, feeding on Sophia’s body. His small arms scrabbled at the gravel, his mouths opened in a scream, as the doorway stripped the flesh from his tail, pulling him backward through a space half the size of his bloated body.

  Cerberus let out a howl that chilled me, rattled me to the core. It was the sound of a doomsday hound, the sort of thing that would ferry you to the seven gates of the seven hells.

  Then, with a low wet sucking sound, he disappeared through the doorway, silenced.

  It was the size of my fist now, discharging magick in white-purple sparks visible to the naked eye.

  As the devil’s doorway shut for good, I saw the Maiden, her formless dark mass of a soul against the bright white of the door. I think she screamed before it pulled her down, but I couldn’t be sure.

  In another few seconds, she was gone, and there was a blast of hot air, like wind from a forbidden place reaching your skin. The devil’s doorway closed, leaving nothing but the scent of charred magick in the air.

  Satisfied that the world wasn’t going to end in the next few minutes, I put my forehead down in the gravel and passed out.

  Twenty-Seven

  Waking up in the ICU is like waking up in some Kubrick-esque version of Hell—I could see nothing but white ceiling, white light, white tile walls, the sheen of an oxygen mask covering my face, and felt the foreign steel sting of multiple IVs in my hand and arms.