soulofawitch_463-9e1.htm

by Soul Of A Witch (lit)

  "Hey, Drake!" Ephim motioned the pale pirate over from where he was standing near the front of the spaceship. "You have to admit, that witch is a looker, huh?"

  Drake stared up at the hut, a frown on his face. Rubbing his chin, he debated it to himself.

  France sighed and rolled his eyes.

  "She’s still a witch," Drake announced, spat, and stamped both feet.

  Franc snorted in disgust.

  "Thank you." Sinya nodded. "I want you lot to remember that this woman is a witch, not a flighty tavern wench.She’s not for cuddling and rutting with, understand?"

  Ephim muttered something.

  "What?" Sinya snapped. "What did you say?"

  "Nothing." Ephim glanced up at the hut once more. "Here she comes."

  More annoyed than he knew he had a reason to be, Sinya turned his head back to watch her coming down the steps.

  Beulah’s long white tresses were pulled back in the customary bun at the nape. The pale blue gown she wore was more form fitting, tracing the gentle swells of her breasts, and falling loosely around her legs. The hem whirled around her ankles as she moved. Black eyes regarded him without fear, and she walked right across to him and stopped not a foot away. Arms by her sides, face calm, she continued to look down at him.

  Scowling, Sinya pushed to his feet. "I want some answers."

  "I’ll tell you what I can."

  Hands on his hips, Sinya gazed down at her, mildly surprised to find that her head barely reached his shoulder. He kept forgetting that she wasn’t as tall as him. So what? So she’s not as tall as you thought. Big deal. That’s not important now. "Hortra has Wes’s soul."

  "Yes."

  "Is Wes in danger?"

  "You know he is."

  Sinya clenched his teeth at the answer. He’d been hoping, against the odds, that Wes would be all right.

  "I’m sorry," Beulah said quietly.

  "I thought you were going to protect him? To bring him back?" Frustrated, Sinya lashed out verbally. "I thought you were the powerful one? What happened?"

  She didn’t flinch. "Wes was scared. Hortra tricked him into thinking he’d destroyed me, and Wes ejected me from his plane."

  "What are your powers exactly, Beulah? You say you can help, and then it appears that this bastard Hortra can come in and simply take Wes from you!"

  Face expressionless, she returned, "Hortra is powerful. Wes doesn’t know his own power, and in his plane, he is strong."

  "Strong enough to eject you, but not Hortra?" With a bitter laugh, Sinya whirled around and stepped away, before spinning back to face her over the small distance he’d put between them. "You were supposed to help him, Beulah!"

  "Circumstances changed things, Sinya. I--"

  "I think it was a mistake to come here at all!" He gestured to the hut. "My brother’s soul is now in the keeping of a mad mystic, and his body is imprisoned in your hut! How do you explain all that, witch?"

  "Uh--Sinya..." Ephim cleared his throat.

  "Stay out of this!" Sinya snarled.

  "But--"

  Nostrils flaring, Sinya cut his pirate a hard look of warning. It was something he hardly ever did, and he saw the surprise on his friend’s face. Guilt flickered briefly, but he was angry enough to squash it back down.

  "It’s all right, Ephim," Beulah said quietly. "Sinya is angry, and has just cause to be so. He doesn’t understand--"

  "Damn right I don’t! So you’d better start explaining!" Seeing the wariness and surprise on his gathering crew’s faces, Sinya reached out and grabbed Beulah’s wrist. "In private!"

  He’d never touched a woman in anger in his life, and he caught the shock on Franc’s face. And the condemnation.

  Now he felt lower than a viper’s belly.

  Releasing Beulah’s wrist, he spun on his heel and stormed away towards the river. "Come on."

  He didn’t have to hear her to know that she followed. He could feel her. He could also feel the condemning gazes of some of his crew. Now he didn’t just feel like a viper, he felt ashamed. By the time he got to the shelter of trees near the river, his anger had cooled. He slowed down, allowing Beulah to catch up.

  Her presence was comforting, calming, and he stopped at the foot of the bridge to cast her a shame-faced look. "I’m sorry."

  She looked at him with one brow raised.

  "For being such a bad-tempered, ungrateful bastard."

  "Accepted."

  "I’m not normally so..."

  "Angry?"

  He sighed.

  "I understand, Sinya."

  "You always understand." Leaning against the railing, he gazed soberly at her. "It must be nice to be so sure of yourself all the time."

  Stepping past him, she walked up the incline and onto the bridge. Stopping in the middle, she rested her elbows on the railing and stared out over the water.

  Following, he stopped beside her. The motion of the gently swirling water was soothing to his confusion and frustration, and he felt the tension ease from him.

  Petras snapped past him briskly, and he clearly felt its annoyance at him in the abrupt movement. "I seem to have annoyed your pet."

  "You were mean to my witch!" Petras snapped past his face once more, blowing his hair into his eyes.

  "Petras," Beulah said softly. "Come, my sweet. He didn’t mean to be so harsh."

  "He did!"

  "Petras is right." Sinya sighed. "I did mean it. I’m so sorry." He hesitated, then reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. "You endangered yourself for Wes, and I can’t believe how I am repaying you for what you’ve done."

  "I don’t want, nor expect, repayment, Sinya." Beulah continued to gaze over the river. "It is my duty, one given to me by the Acceli healers. They knew of Wes before you arrived. They gave me the duty of teaching him to harness and control his powers."

  "You knew of him before we came?" Sinya stared at her.

  "Yes."

  "Why didn’t you tell me?"

  "I did. I told you I knew when you said you’d brought him to me."

  She had. He remembered now.

  Sinya studied her. For the first time, he really looked.

  She turned her head and met his gaze calmly.

  The calmness was a part of her, the stillness of the woods, the vibrancy of the life that dwelt within her. Old eyes in a face of youthfulness. Wisdom in one so young. Humor in one who had seen so much.

  "Hortra has Wes, and I’m going to get him back," she stated quietly.

  Blinking, he focused on her words. "How?"

  "Go to his kingdom."

  "Through your spiritual planes?"

  "No. Spiritual planes are only traveled with permission of the dead, they are the paths of the spirits. They will not get involved in this sort of thing, it is not of their concern. No, I will need to find out where his kingdom is and go there myself."

  "We’ve tried to track him, Beulah. No one seems to have heard of him."

  "Who did you ask?"

  "Drake and I searched the databases onboard. We have the most up-to-date database you’ll find in the Outlaw Sector."

  "Not the best." She looked out over the river again.

  Sinya felt a leap of hope. "There’s someone else?"

  "There’s always someone else."

  "Who?"

  "The Overlord."

  Shock rippled through Sinya. "You’re going to ask the Overlord?"

  "Yes."

  "Beulah, that’s one mean bastard! That alien will like as not decide to use you for sport, and then hand you over to his people for their amusement!"

  "Sinya--"

  "No." Sinya shook his head. "No. I’ll find out elsewhere. If that twisted white thing knows where Hortra lives, then I have contacts that will find out for me--or ask on our behalf."

  "He doesn’t give information easily, Sinya."

  "Then I’ll ask him myself--without you."

  "You really think he’ll tell you? The Overlord is not known for a so
ft heart."

  "I know people who live on his planet. I’ll find out from them what they know of Hortra."

  "By the time they find out, Wes may no longer exist."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Hortra has plans for Wes’s power. He doesn’t want Wes. Once he figures out how to leech that power, he will destroy Wes’s soul. Wes will die."

  Cold fear snaked down Sinya’s spine. "He’ll kill Wes?"

  "Yes." Beulah brushed a strand of hair back behind her ears. "So you see, there is no time to waste. I must see the Overlord."

  "Then we’ll radio him and--"

  "You can try, but I know he will want to see me in person."

  "Why?"

  "Because the Overlord likes witches and mystics. He is not all he seems, and before you ask, I don’t know what he is. All I know is that he rules the center of the Outlaw Sector, that the worst of pirates and murderers dwell under his protection. You don’t move in his section of the Sector without him knowing about it. He will know if Hortra dwells in his section." Turning, she looked at Sinya. "I will leave today."

  He didn’t like the thought of Beulah going anywhere near the Overlord, but if it was the only way... he’d do anything for Wes, and if it meant getting Wes back in one piece, safe and sound, Sinya would do it.

  Brushing past him, she started to walk off the bridge. "I will return as soon as I can. Meanwhile, Wes will be safe. Watch for me, I--"

  "Hang on a second!" Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to a stop and moved around to look down at her. "You think I’m going to allow you to go alone to this Overlord, and then Hortra, without me?"

  "Sinya, I know what I could be facing--"

  "You are not going alone, Beulah. Wes is my brother, and I’m going to take Hortra apart with my bare hands when I get hold of him. And there’s no way in this galaxy that I’m going to allow you to travel alone to God knows where." He glanced around them. "How do you plan to get there, for starters? I don’t see any spaceship, unless you’ve one magically hidden away."

  "Sinya, this is dangerous--"

  "Exactly. Which is why I’m not letting you go alone."

  Beulah sighed.

  "So how do you plan to get to the Overlord. Through your spirit travel?"

  "No. I have to meet him in person--"

  "And how are you going to do that?"

  "I’ll travel there."

  "In what? Planet shuttles? Beulah, those things don’t go deep into the Outlaw Sector." He took a deep breath. "What about Wes? How do we get him out of the hut?

  Wes remains here."

  "What? On his own?"

  "He is under protection."

  "Will he be safe here?"

  "Nothing will harm him here, Sinya. The Accelis have placed a protection around the hut, a protection that not even Hortra can get through. They will watch over him. No one and nothing comes to this valley without them allowing it."

  "What about all that wind and rain when Hortra came?"

  "He came to the spirit plane. The weather was nature objecting to his presence in a place forbidden to him."

  "Can the Accelis do nothing to help us, if they are so powerful?"

  "They are healers, not fighters." Beulah held her hand out to indicate their surroundings. "Nothing will come here while we are gone. Nothing. Wes will be safe."

  Gazing deeply into Beulah’s eyes, Sinya read the sincerity reflected with her. There was nothing he could do, he knew. He couldn’t get to his brother, and he needed to find Hortra to get Wes’s soul back, otherwise God knew how long he would remain asleep.

  Until his spirit is killed.

  The thought made him shudder. No, he had to get Hortra, and Beulah seemed the most likely way to do so. "Fine. Then you’re coming with me."

  Beulah frowned up at him.

  "With me," he repeated. ""If we’re going to do this, Beulah, we’re going to do this together. You will take care of the mystical things, and I’ll deal with the physical threats."

  "Sinya--"

  "Enough. I’m not listening to any arguments." Taking her elbow, Sinya steered her off the bridge and towards the hut. "Get what you need for the journey."

  "You have no idea what we could be getting into!"

  "Whatever it is, we’ll face it together." He glanced down at her. "You asked me once to trust you, Beulah. To work with you. That’s what I’m doing. I’m trusting you to get Wes’s soul back, and you’re going to have to trust me to get us through the Outlaw Sector. Besides which, protests won’t help. We’re doing this together."

  She didn’t offer any more protests.

  He watched her walk back to the hut, then he returned to the ship. Now he had to apologize to his crew, who were more like family than crew, and ready them all to leave. And he had to say goodbye, somehow, to Wes. Though it was really only Wes’s body, and not his soul, that dwelled in the hut. Right?

  Glancing at the hut as he passed it, he whispered a promise. "I’ll get you back, Wes. I swear it."

  ~ * ~

  The black tiles of the corridor rang with the sharp clicks of Hortra’s boot heels as he strode towards the chamber at the end. He glanced over his shoulder at the black shape of the boy behind him. The boy was struggling, bits of black substance, smokey and ethereal, breaking off, only to reform again. He hovered a foot above the ground, and the image of his face appeared briefly, mouth open in a silent scream.

  "Scream all you want, Wes. Cry and shout and beg." Hortra laughed softly. "I like it all. It feeds me, boy. It feeds my black soul."

  The face vanished, sucked in by the smothering blackness that held his spirit contained.

  One of the guards standing by the door of the chamber swung it open, and Hortra entered, Wes trailing helplessly after him.

  In the middle of the room was a black, square marble stand, only one foot high. With a gesture of his hand, Hortra sent Wes spinning up onto it.

  Wes spun quickly, then slowed until he was rotating slowly. He struggled, trying to step down, and Hortra laughed as he finally stopped.

  "You can’t escape me, boy. No one has ever escaped me. I’ve sucked the powers from those stronger than you, and they couldn’t escape. Now, you’re a challenge, because I feel your strength." Tossing his cloak into a crimson pile on a nearby chair, Hortra walked around Wes. "I’d like to see your face clearly, but that’s not to be just yet. My blackness surrounds you, holding you prisoner. But I will release your spirit, boy. Oh yes. I’ll release it once I’m done with you."

  Rain beat upon the window, and thunder crashed in the distance. Crossing to the window, he gazed out at the brown hills beyond.

  "It rains here, boy, nourishing water for the parched earth, but nothing will grow. And do you know why?"

  The struggling back shape stilled, the top part turning towards him slightly.

  "Because nothing grows here. Nature has decreed me an abomination, and so it refuses to allow anything of nature to grow. But I don’t care." With a flick of his fingers, he left the window and crossed to the table in the corner of the room.

  It was piled high with great tomes, and more were piled by the side of it. Perusing the titles, he selected one. Lifting off the covering tomes, he finally pulled it off the pile and laid it aside.

  "Now for some research." Hortra looked across at the dark shape of Wes consideringly. "Let’s see what I can learn in regards to your powers, boy, and about you. I never simply take powers, boy. I study them first. I don’t want to let loose something I can’t control."

  Pulling a chair up to the table, he cleared a space and laid the tome down. Opening the cover, he started to read, ignoring the lightning that flashed across the sky outside.

  ~ * ~

  "You can’t leave, Beulah!" Petras skittered around her shoulders. "You can’t!"

  "I must. You know this." Beulah took several gowns from the cupboard and laid them on the bed.

  "You’re going to leave me here!"

  "My sweet pet." Lifting her ar
m, Beulah felt Petras wrap around her wrist and nestle its head into her palm. "I can’t take you. I don’t know what Hortra can sense or see, and I will not lose you to him. He will not have you."

  "You are my witch, I can’t be separated from you!" Panic was in Petra’s voice. "I have never been apart from you--"

  "The Accelis are coming for you." Beulah rubbed her cheek against Petra’s head, knowing instinctively where it was. "Please, my pet, this is so hard. I love you so much."

  "I love you, my witch." Petras snuggled into Beulah’s neck, a nothingness that was at once not there, but vital and alive. "Please, let me come."

  "No. Hortra will not have you."

  "You will protect me."

  Beulah swallowed the lump that arose in her throat.

  "Please?" Petras whispered. "I will be good, I’ll do what you say. I promise."

  "Being good has nothing to do with it. You are everything to me, my pet. My constant companion from as far back as I can remember. Always with me. But you can’t come this time. It’s not safe."

  Petras whimpered.

  A tear slipped down Beulah’s cheek. "You are to remain safe with the Accelis, and visit with your kind. When I return, then you shall return."

  Petras was quiet for a second, then whispered, "You don’t know if you’ll return, do you?"

  "I won’t lie, Petras. This journey is dangerous. If I am killed, you will be safe with the Accelis."

  "No!" Petras wrapped tendrils around Beulah, pressing close to her. "No, Beulah! I couldn’t bear it if you died, I--"

  "Hush, my pet," Beulah crooned. "I have been given a task by the Accelis, those who watch over you and me. We obey them, as we have always done. There is no other way. Would you have me say no to them?"

  "You can’t."

  "That is so. They have decreed that Wes is my responsibility, and so go I must to retrieve his soul."

  "I want to go with you."

  "And that is impossible. Knowing you are safe with the Accelis will be of great comfort to me." Beulah stroked the nothing beneath her chin. "You cannot leave this area. It is in this valley you must stay, or with the Accelis and your kind. That is the way it is, Petras. We know this."

  A gentle breeze blew around her head, a tendril of her hair caressing her cheek. "I don’t want you to go..."