Witch's Shadow (The Hemlock Chronicles Book 1)

by Emma L. Adams

  “She meant to destroy us,” whispered Evelyn. “If we’d stayed in the circle…”

  The scream would have sent both of us flying into the collapsing void. The endless wailing continued, but I did my best to tune it out. Wind whispered at my heels, telling me the rest of the circle was being pulled into the void, too, and the room would follow.

  No. I can’t die here.

  With each step, I fused within my body until I was running outright, outracing the blackness, my breath coming in sharp gasps. The room, whatever it was, was ice-cold, and everything was so pitch-black, I might have been on the edge of a cliff and I wouldn’t have known it.

  “Use the magic,” whispered Evelyn in my ear.

  “What would that achieve?” I hissed back, breathlessly. “It’s as dark as Satan’s armpit in here. Less talking, more running.”

  Even if using Evelyn’s magic didn’t do the enemy’s job for her, it was too volatile for me to risk unleashing that power here. All magic affected the spirit lines. And if it was true, and more of it was sealed beneath the surface of this line than even the forest—there was absolutely no way I could let the witch get her hands on it.

  And that went double for the one sharing my body.

  The noise grew louder, a relentless scream of pain and anger rolled into one. Wait—had they left the psychic in the same liminal space we were in?

  Evelyn’s magic writhed beneath the surface, and one of the remaining shielding spells on my wrist hissed and sparked. Cold air whipped at my ankles. The entire room with the candles had gone, sucked into emptiness. If I didn’t slow down whatever spell was causing the floor to collapse, we’d be pulled into darkness one way or another.

  I pushed the shield spell down my wrist, Evelyn’s magic sparking from my fingertips, and threw the shield behind us. A shimmering barrier extended, flowing beneath our feet. I didn’t know for sure it would hold, but it bought us more time to run.

  My vision blurred as the wailing noise grew more insistent, but now I knew for certain—the psychic was here, in the same dimension as us. Tracking her was possible just by following the noise, and surely even the witch’s ghost would be too disorientated from the shaking spirit realm to realise we’d survived our escape.

  A growing light appeared ahead and I flat-out sprinted towards it, skidding to a halt at the figure lying prone on the floor, trapped beneath shimmering glyphs and surrounded by chalk symbols. So many layers of magic pinned her down, she couldn’t move. All she could do was scream, endlessly, a wail of pain and terror. They hadn’t just used the psychic—they’d left her to die here.

  And if we didn’t get her out, we’d be next.

  22

  The psychic was a young woman, from what I could see, and despite the spells’ tight grip on her, she struggled against the bonds with tenacity. Her scream ebbed and flowed, not coming from her mouth but from her soul. And I’d bet anything those chalk symbols amplified her magic, like the symbol Lloyd and I had found at the warehouse the other day.

  Not only the Hemlocks laid claim to this power.

  No, but it will be ours again when we kill them, Evelyn helpfully supplied.

  Wonderful. Psycho witch and I were in agreement once again.

  I took another step and collided with a solid barrier. Two shadowy figures appeared on either side of the psychic, hands aglow with spell-light. Witches. Behind them, more human-shaped shadows rose into view as the spells’ lights spread, lighting the gloom.

  “Easy way or hard way,” I told them. “Step away from the girl, or I’ll turn your magic inside out and let it eat you alive.”

  I wasn’t sure whether it was me who said that or the spirit, to be perfectly honest.

  Evelyn’s magic sprang to my palms. The witches screamed, flung back as my power tore into their bodies and spirits alike. The rippling white light struck the barrier around the psychic, and I ran forwards, ignoring the spirit’s insistent pushing against my skull. You can’t take the reins. Not yet.

  My hands pressed against the spell-barrier. No spell couldn’t be undone, and this wasn’t a powerful one. The enemy hadn’t really expected me to make it in here. I was supposed to die the instant she started screaming.

  Magic poured from my hands, undoing the binding spell pinning her down, nullifying the amplifying spells, swamping the other witches’ magic with my own. As the light faded, it took me a moment to realise the weird humming in my head wasn’t the magic, but the absence of pain. The psychic had stopped screaming, and lay limp on the floor, surrounded by the bodies of the witches Evelyn’s power had torn to shreds.

  The last part of the binding spell unravelled, and the psychic rolled onto her back, gasping for air. “I’m so sorry.”

  Her eyes rolled back in her skull and she collapsed.

  “Oh, bloody hell.”

  The psychic was barely my age, probably untrained, and it’d be cruel to leave her behind. But if the enemy got hold of her again, the guild might not be so lucky this time.

  “Leave her,” whispered Evelyn.

  “Shut up,” I muttered. “Yes, I know you’re pissed, but we need protection, not violence. She’s on our side.”

  “Are you quite sure?” said another voice.

  A female ghost floated above the floor just a few feet away. Not the spirit, though they shared the same flowing curls and grey-blue eyes. And her voice… I knew it. She was the person who’d taunted me in the station and dragged me into this hellhole to die. The person who’d claimed to no longer be living.

  “That was a cheap trick,” I said to her, moving in front of the psychic.

  “Hardly worse than the crimes the Hemlocks have committed.” The ghost eyed the witches’ fallen bodies. “Poor souls. They were just like you, Jas.”

  “I never signed up to kidnap an innocent girl as part of a nasty death cult hell-bent on destruction.”

  “Innocent? Nothing is innocent about the guild. They have as much blood on their hands as the rest of us.”

  “Because they executed people for practising blood magic? You’re a Hemlock, aren’t you?”

  Her mouth twisted. “Your friend couldn’t resist nosing into our history, could he?”

  “If you hurt him in any way, I’ll pull your eyeballs out through your throat.” Beside me, the psychic stirred, but I kept my gaze on the witch’s ghost. “What’s the point in all this? You want the Hemlocks’ power, right?”

  “We Hemlocks are predisposed to want what is ours.”

  Yes, we are, whispered Evelyn.

  “You don’t have magic,” I said loudly, more to drown out Evelyn than anything. “You couldn’t be heir even if you were alive, but you wanted it, didn’t you?”

  “Quiet,” she said, soft and sharp.

  “Did I hit a nerve? Sorry, my ancestor is feeling a little restless.”

  “What did they do to you?” she hissed. “Why do you have our power? You’re nobody.”

  My body froze, and Evelyn spoke through my mouth. “It’s been a while, Leila.”

  “Evelyn,” said the witch. “I should have known you’d find a way to cling to power. Sharing the body of another, though?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” said Evelyn. “I survived. And so did my power.”

  “It should have been mine,” said Leila. “I’m as much a Hemlock as you are.”

  “Not according to the laws of succession,” Evelyn responded. “The magic passes on when one person takes over from the other, and you weren’t chosen. I was.”

  “Because you bound yourself to a child.” Her lip curled.

  “Guys!” I spoke, with difficulty. “Listen, I don’t give a shit what argument you two have. I’m not all that thrilled at sharing headspace with Evelyn either, but it’s my problem now, not yours.”

  “The coven,” said the ghost, “is mine.”

  I took a step forwards, and candles sprang to life at my feet. Another rippling spirit barrier separated me from the witch’s ghost. “I got out
of one of your circles. I can do it again.”

  “You’ll stay there until my witches kill you,” she said. “You and the psychic, too. And I’ll take care of your friends myself.”

  “Get back here,” I warned. “If you lay a finger on them—”

  Cold hands grabbed my shoulders, and the psychic whimpered. A dozen witches rose to their feet, their mutilated bodies reanimated.

  Let me out, whispered Evelyn. You can leave the circle as a ghost. Find your friends.

  As another candle light flared, I lost my grip on my body and floated upwards. My body continued to move, Evelyn in control once more. Her hands glowed with the light of the Hemlocks’ magic, and the candles shifted, leaving a slight gap which closed almost instantly.

  She was giving me the chance to escape… if I was willing to leave my body behind. If I flew out the circle, Evelyn would stop the reanimated witches from killing the psychic, while I went to find my friends and chased down Leila Hemlock. There was no other way to end it.

  With the last of my power, I floated back into my body, threw a shield spell over the psychic, then floated upwards once more.

  Evelyn’s magic struck the candle, a gap appeared in the circle, and I flew out in a blur of light.

  I’ll destroy you before you get to my friends.

  23

  Leila’s eyes widened as I shot at her with the force of a bullet. She’d never expected me to attack her in the spirit realm, let alone abandon my body. I gripped her spirit, shouted the banishing words—and she disappeared.

  “Oh, come on.” She hadn’t gone into Death, but skipped out of the liminal space altogether.

  I should be able to cross dimensions, especially as a ghost. I really hoped I’d remember the way back, because I did not want to leave Evelyn in charge of controlling my body indefinitely.

  I closed my eyes and opened them again, reaching for my spirit sight. The world faded, going transparent, but instead of Death, a forest path appeared, flickering beneath my feet.

  “Hey. Cordelia.” Anger sparked beneath my fear, catching alight. “Thanks a bunch for telling me you left Leila Hemlock alive.”

  “She wasn’t supposed to live,” hissed Cordelia’s voice. “She must have hidden herself away, between worlds. Destroy her, before she takes our power and dooms us all.”

  “Maybe I’ll let her kick you around for a bit.” I turned away from the forest path. From her tone, the witch hadn’t gone after the Hemlocks yet. The magic kept her out. So she’d stuck to her word and gone after my friends. “How in hell do I cross dimensions from here?”

  “Feel your way,” Cordelia’s voice said, ringing through the trees. “Our magic is everywhere at once.”

  “Because that explains a lot.” I felt the forest’s magic humming through me, and the ever-present spirit realm, but the real world remained beyond reach. Multiple worlds overlapped here. There must be a dozen liminal spaces folded into this key point, because of the tangle of spirit lines. No wonder the witch had managed to stay hidden from sight. I could still sense my own magic, though muted, as Evelyn used it on my behalf. I couldn’t see her, thanks to the spirit barrier, and if ever I had proof that we were two separate people, this was it.

  I searched for Keir instead, seeking his familiar form in the spirit realm, and spotted his shadowy outline. I reached out, sensing another spirit near him. Lloyd?

  The forest vanished, and I appeared in the train station again. Keir leaned against a pile of rubble in a darkened room, the dimly flickering light of a torch illuminating his exhausted features.

  “Keir!”

  His eyes widened. “Jas. You’re…”

  “More or less alive. Where’s—”

  “Isabel found your friend. They’re fine.”

  My shoulders slumped with relief. “I thought I was too late. The witch—I don’t know if you saw her, but she’s a ghost, and she threatened to come after you and the others. She’s a Hemlock.”

  “A ghost?” he echoed. “Are you sure?”

  “She’s floating around making threats.” But if she and Evelyn knew each other, she’d either died recently or she’d been a ghost for over twenty years. Even the most powerful spirits didn’t last that long. “Shit. I bet she lied. She must have detached from her body…”

  So I wouldn’t be able to kill her until I found where she’d hidden herself. Clever. Of course, I could still banish her beyond the gates of Death, but I’d bet she’d prepared for that, too.

  “Then we need to find it,” said Keir. “I think your friend needs help.”

  I spun around on the spot, seeing Isabel crouched beside a familiar figure.

  “Lloyd!” I zipped over to him, and stopped. He was trapped in a similar web to the one that’d held the psychic, while Isabel worked on undoing the spell holding him captive. “Thank god you’re alive. I thought I was too late.”

  “I’m fairly glad of that, too,” he muttered. “Bloody ghost.”

  Isabel glanced over her shoulder at me, then returned to working on the spell. “The psychic’s screaming wiped out the vampires. Why would she knock out her own army?”

  “To kill me,” I said. “It almost worked. The psychic is okay, but I left Evelyn in control of my body. We need to get Lloyd out of here. The enemy is coming—"

  A shadow stirred in the corner of my vision, and Isabel reached for her spells. I floated on the spot, bracing myself.

  The world flickered, but instead of the fog of the spirit realm appearing, the room I’d left behind overlaid my vision. Burning candles at my feet, witches revived by vampire magic, the psychic cowering behind the shield I’d conjured… and in the middle of it all, her.

  Evelyn Hemlock.

  It was creepy to see my own mouth smiling so nastily—almost as much as it was to see the gleam of triumph in her eyes.

  Thanks for giving me your body, that smile said.

  For an instant, she disappeared, to be replaced with a yawning gulf of whiteness, with a pair of glowing grey-black eyes within. Oh, said the part of me not numb with horror. That’s what she looks like in the spirit realm. No wonder that ghost ran screaming.

  The spirit circle broke open, and the vampire-controlled witches swarmed into the real world.

  Isabel reacted first, a spell flying from her hand and striking down one of the witches. At least the shielding spell I’d thrown at the psychic remained functioning, but Lloyd was still trapped in the web, and Keir’s spirit was almost depleted.

  Oh, yeah, and Evelyn had stolen my body.

  I flew at her, only to collide with Leila’s ghostly form. She bared her teeth, her hands locking around my throat. I glimpsed Keir running towards us, grabbing her spirit with his vampire’s touch, trying to pull her off me.

  Lloyd yelled from behind me. I recognised the words he shouted as a necromancer’s banishing spell, but the ghost hung on, tenacious. She was too powerful.

  A witch-zombie slammed into Keir, but he got there first, ripping the spirit controlling her out with both hands. His own spirit glowed, satiated, and he turned his back and ran towards Evelyn.

  What is he doing?

  “Don’t!” I shouted, struggling to break free from Leila’s grip. “You can’t kill me,” I snarled at her. “You’re no necromancer.”

  “But I am.” Lloyd staggered away from the wall, still half-covered in the witch’s trapping spell. “Next time you kidnap the Hemlock heir’s best friend, you might want to try checking he isn’t a necromancer.”

  He raised a hand, which glowed with white-blue light. The witch-zombies halted mid-assault, now under his command. Leila yelled in anger, briefly relaxing her hold on me, and I broke free, spinning above the chaos. The witches’ mutilated bodies remained still, under Lloyd’s control—except for one.

  I halted above the witch nearest to the back. The glow above her body was different to the others. Leila was piloting her own body. Of course. She’d been hiding right in front of us, biding her time.

&nb
sp; Our eyes met as I dived at her, and she came upright with a knife pressed to the psychic’s throat. “I can make her break your spell,” she said. “And then, the spirit line.”

  Despite the words coming from the witch’s mouth, the glow told me she hadn’t reconnected with her body yet, but was still controlling it from a distance. Which gave me an opening.

  I reached for the threads of magic connecting the witch with her body. I’d had enough practise wresting control from the spirit, but she fought hard, the knife threatening to cut the psychic’s throat. Carefully, I wrenched, hard, and the knife dropped in her hand. “Run!” I yelled at the psychic as the witch’s spirit’s hands closed around my throat again. Despite her rage, she couldn’t really harm me as a ghost. She hadn’t practised—been forced to practise—as I had.

  At least there was one thing I could thank Evelyn Hemlock for.

  I gripped hard on the threads controlling her body, jerking her hands like a puppet. Driving the knife towards her own heart.

  “That won’t work, Jacinda,” she hissed. “I’m a coven leader. I can’t be harmed.”

  Shit. She had the same protections as Isabel?

  “Nice try.” The psychic lifted her head and looked the ghostly form of the witch in the eyes. “I can read your mind as well as anyone’s. You’re not a real coven leader. Your magic can easily be undone.”

  “You will die for that.” Leila let go of my throat, grabbing the reins and diving into her own body. But before she could strike, Evelyn Hemlock blocked her way.

  “Are you on my side or not?” I demanded. “Come on, now’s not the time to throw a tantrum. Let me back in.”

  “Why would I let you do that? It’s been so long.” Her hands glowed. “And this magic is rightfully mine.”

  Leila screamed. A knife protruded from her back, gripped in the psychic’s hand. The moment she’d dropped her guard, the psychic had struck, and blood flowed freely from the wound.