soulofawitch_463-9e1.htm

by Soul Of A Witch (lit)

  "Thanks." Sinya ran a finger musingly across his thin mustache. "Can you tell me where the fighters are kept?"

  "Wish I could, boyo, but I’m not allowed to interfere in this private war."

  "You’re a lot of help, Fredrico."

  "Aw, shucks, don’t mention it." Fredrico laughed, then held up one hand, still grinning. "However, it seems your little witch there has friends in the know."

  "In the know?"

  "Someone who has sent a few gifts." Fredrico leaned forward and touched the screen. "Have a look at my cargo hold."

  The scene on the viscomm changed, and Sinya found himself looking at several big crates.

  "These," Fredrico said happily, "should help take out the nasty fighters."

  "What are they?"

  "A little surprise from a friend." The screen switched back to Fredrico’s face. "I’m attaching the tunnel to your ship later on, and we’ll unload the crates into your tender, loving care."

  Sinya didn’t like the idea of being attached to Fredrico’s ship, even for a short time, but he knew they needed all the help they could get. His plan had been to try and get assistance, but everyone in the inner Outlaw Sector had been warned not to interfere in the coming conflict between Sinya and Hortra, and everyone in the inner sanctum of the Outlaw Sector obeyed the Overlord. Even the simple act of getting heavier weapons was a problem. They were on their own--or so he had thought.

  "Who is this friend?" Beulah asked curiously.

  "Someone in high places, and be grateful." Fredrico’s face sobered. "Trust me, Sinya, you’ll want this fire power. Hortra has charged up his weapons with his own little concoctions, and this stuff given to you will be a big help there."

  "Who would risk the Overlord’s wrath to assist us now?" Sinya asked suspiciously.

  "Ask no questions and you’ll be told no lies," Fredrico returned easily. "I’ll send a message when I’m ready for the tunnels to connect."

  The screen went blank.

  "Well," Sinya said slowly. "Fancy that."

  Drake gave Beulah a sideways look, a new respect in his gaze. "Friends in high places, huh? Willing to weather the Overlord’s anger and help you. Who do you think it could be?"

  "I truly don’t know." Beulah shrugged. "It doesn’t matter. We got help, didn’t we?"

  "That we did." Laying one arm across her shoulders, Sinya turned her towards the door. "So tell me your plan to open the rim."

  "Well, I’ve assessed it already, and--"

  "Already?" Sinya tucked her into his side as they walked down the corridor. "How?"

  "I astral travelled."

  Alarm coursed through him, and he came to a halt. "To Hortra’s rim?"

  "Yes."

  "Good God, Beulah!"

  "Stop fussing." She patted his arm briskly. "I knew what I was doing."

  "On your own?"

  "Well who was going to come with me?"

  There was no answer to that, then Sinya brightened. "You could have taken me."

  "No."

  "You did before."

  "That was into Wes’s subconscious. His spirit plane. Out in space, with no protection, is not the same. It takes practice."

  "Then let me practice before we get to Hortra’s, and then I can help you." The idea came to full life, and he said eagerly, "I could do it! I could help you in the spirit battle with Hortra and--"

  "No." Beulah repeated firmly, "No."

  "It makes sense--"

  "There isn’t enough time for you to get that level of skill, Sinya. Battling Hortra is draining, and he’s frightening to one who has no experience in that field. No, it’s too big a risk."

  "But--"

  "Sinya." Placing a hand on his arm, Beulah leaned forward to look up at him seriously. "This is no game. This is dangerous, and I need all my power focussed on myself, and then on Wes. I can’t split my powers and concentration between three of us."

  With a sigh, Sinya nodded. "Very well." Then his gaze sharpened, eyes narrowing. "This is dangerous, Beulah. Are you going to be safe?"

  "I’m strong, Sinya. You’ve seen me face the fireball." With a wink, she added, "And I faced you in the nude, without screaming in maidenly fear."

  "Maidenly fear?" Sinya leered at her. "You’re no maiden anymore, sweet."

  "And you’re no gentleman to remind me."

  "I’m a pirate, and I’ve ravished you so many times in the last five days, I’m surprised you can even walk straight."

  "My, we do have a big ego, don’t we?"

  "Matches my mighty rod."

  "And your mighty head."

  Laughing, he slung his arm around her shoulders and steered her once more down the corridor. But beneath his light banter, he was worried. Worried about her safety, worried that they might not be able to rescue Wes, worried that they might all die in the attempt.

  That night in the dining cabin, when all were gathered for the evening meal, he gave his crew another chance to back out, with no ill-feelings, but was howled down indignantly. Franc stated that they were standing with him and young Wes against any and all odds. His crew were his family. They were loyal unto the end. When Sinya tried to explain himself, they ignored him.

  Beulah looked laughingly at him when he shrugged helplessly.

  Now lying in his bed, he looked down at Beulah who was snuggled asleep in his arms. He loved her so much, and yet he was leading them to what could possibly be their doom. But there was nothing else for it. Wes needed him. His loyalty was also to his little brother, the boy he’d reared from the cradle.

  "You’re doing the right thing," Beulah whispered sleepily against his skin.

  "I thought you were asleep."

  "You’re troubled."

  "How did you know what I was thinking?"

  Rising up onto one elbow, she was a dark shadow in the cabin, but he could feel the thick fall of her hair against his arm, the press of her warm, naked body against his.

  Touching his cheek unerringly, she replied softly, "You worry about Wes, about me, about the crew. But it has come to this, Sinya, and we are all standing together. There is strength in unity."

  "We could all die, Beulah."

  "And we all know and accept it."

  "It’s not right."

  "We each make our own decisions, and we’ve made it."

  "I just don’t know..."

  "These doubts are creeping in because we are so close to our goal."

  "Yes." He sighed.

  "Would you change what we are about to do?"

  "If only I could do things another way. Do it without endangering us all--"

  "We do only what we can. Now I ask you again, would you change what we are about to do?"

  He felt as though his heart would break. "God forgive me, but no. No."

  "Then be at peace with your decision." Softly she kissed him, her silky hair tumbling about his face, surrounding him with her sweet scent.

  He kissed her back, taking what she offered eagerly.

  Breaking their kiss, she sat higher up the bed, leaning her back against the wall. His head was now level with her stomach, and Beulah drew his head down onto her cover-strewn lap. Slipping her fingers through his hair, she whispered words of courage to him, and soothed him with the light massaging of her fingers.

  Peace stole through him, and he relaxed. Troublesome thoughts disappeared, and he felt as though he were drifting away on a loving sea of gentleness.

  Sinya fell into a contented sleep, safe in the arms of Beulah.

  ~ * ~

  The Overlord watched as the two ships came to a stop near the rim of Hortra’s section. He could almost feel the shimmer of power that Hortra held at bay beyond the rim, waiting for the Overlord’s protection to subside.

  Sinya and his crew were fools to think they could even begin to defeat the dark mystic. As for Beulah... well, she had untapped power there, a power she didn’t seem aware of having.

  Stroking the gold armrest of his chair, the Overlord
nodded his head. Untapped power. It would be a fight worth watching.

  His gaze switched to another ship that hovered several miles away. Shrouded in a protective light, it was hidden from view of the other two ships. This ship had the Overlord’s attention more, and his pupils dilated.

  "Have a care, my child," he whispered. "Have a care."

  Debts were hell to pay back.

  ~ * ~

  Looking into the mirror of the bathroom, Beulah told her reflection, "This is it. This is where we face Hortra." Her gaze dropped, and she watched the water play over her hand. "For the soul of a boy, we go into the dark mystic’s plane."

  Facing Hortra was not something she wanted to do. Facing the dark mystic, with his dark powers, was something she knew she might not survive. It was also something she hadn’t told Sinya, assuring him she was strong. And she was. She had no doubt she’d get Wes, but as for coming back herself...

  "Are you all right?" Sinya asked from behind her.

  Turning, she smiled up at him. "Yes."

  Touching her face, he said softly, "Promise me you’ll take care of yourself."

  "You know I will." Laying her palm over his larger hand, she said seriously, "I will get Wes for you, Sinya. Don’t doubt that."

  "I don’t doubt that, Beulah." Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly upon the forehead. "But I want you back as well."

  Seeking to turn his thoughts away from her own safety, she asked, "Are your weapons ready? The crew?"

  "All primed and ready to start fighting--and that includes the crew." Sinya backed out of the shower cabin as Beulah started forward. "Fredrico leaves in five minutes, and then we’re on our own."

  "You have a plan?"

  "Yep. Hit anything that comes at us." He grinned mirthlessly.

  "Good plan."

  "Beulah, once the rim is open and we get through, I’m going to aim for fighters that come at us."

  "Watch the rim on the viscomm. You’ll see it breakdown. But you need to act quickly, Sinya. There can be no hesitation." Picking up the small pouch from the night stand, Beulah looked gravely up at Sinya. "To hesitate will be to give Hortra an advantage. Do you understand?"

  "Of course I understand." Sinya frowned at her. "Or is there something else you’re trying to tell me?"

  "No matter what Hortra tries to tell you--"

  "He’s actually going to talk to me?" Sinya’s brows rose in surprise.

  "He’ll do whatever he can to undermine our confidence. You need to have faith in me, Sinya. Don’t hesitate about choices." Beulah took a deep breath, before adding, "And that includes about me. Regardless of what Hortra says, Wes is the one you need to protect. Only Wes, Sinya."

  Sinya’s jaw tightened. "You are also my concern."

  "But Wes is your first concern. No matter what Hortra says, what choices he tries to give you, choose Wes. If you stay focused on Wes, we’ll get him back." Stepping forward, she laid one hand on his chest. "Promise me, Sinya."

  "Hortra will try and trick us, won’t he?"

  "He’s a dark mystic. Evil men are not known for their honesty." She grinned. "Unlike witches."

  Shaking his head, Sinya swept her up into his arms, holding her up face level so that her feet dangled in the air. Looking her directly in the eyes, he stated, "You are to return to me, Beulah. You and Wes."

  "I’ll always be here with you, Sinya."

  "Don’t dance around the subject, Beulah. I know this is a risk for you, too. For all of us--"

  "Then you better make sure you’re here for me." She pressed a light kiss to his mouth. "You better start taking your own advice, Sinya, scourge of the Outlaw Sector."

  He nearly dropped her. "Beulah, this is no time for jokes--"

  "I wasn’t joking. I was teasing." She grinned. "Humour makes life go on."

  With a sigh, Sinya rested his forehead against hers. "I love you, Beulah. You come back to me, you hear?"

  "I will return Wes to you. Don’t doubt it."

  "And yourself."

  "Of course."

  Sinya kissed her tenderly, and she felt his love for her, felt it in every movement of his lips moulding to hers. No urgent, passionate kiss, this was truly a kiss of love and hope.

  When he drew his head back, there was a suspicious brightness in his dark eyes. "You remember what I told you, Beulah. You come back to me."

  She smiled at him.

  The intercom crackled, then Drake’s voice came over. "Sinya, Fredrico is leaving."

  "Are the laser guns primed and ready?" Sinya asked.

  Beulah could feel the tension coursing through his body, and knew he was already starting to plot and plan.

  "All ready and waiting," Drake replied.

  "You need to go to the control cabin," Beulah said when he looked back down at her. "Your crew need you there, Sinya."

  His jaw clenched, then he nodded abruptly. Giving her one last kiss, this time harder, he set her on her feet, whirled and strode to the door. In the entrance he hesitated, looked at her over his shoulder, and said, "I love you."

  Then he was gone.

  For several seconds she gazed at the doorway, then with a sigh she retrieved the pouch from where it had slipped from her fingers onto the floor. Dropping down cross-legged, she sprinkled a shower of gold dust into her hand. A faint scent, fresh and clean, wafted up from the dust.

  Focusing her attention on the dust and what was to come, she sprinkled it around herself in a thin line. Closing her eyes, she slid easily from her body, and out into space.

  ~ * ~

  Hortra watched Fredrico’s ship turn away and start back the way it had come. Once it was in the clear, he would attack the pathetic pirate ship that was left. The pirate and that equally pathetic witch, Beulah.

  Turning away from the window, his gaze went to the black cloud imprisoning Wes. "Well, boy, your brother is here, and that meddling witch. I’m going to kill Sinya, and take Beulah prisoner. Any minute now, and they will be mine."

  "He’ll fight you." Wes’s voice trembled.

  "He can try." Hortra chuckled. "This is merely a little exercise for my powers. It’s been awhile." Flexing his hands, he cracked his knuckles one by one, then shook his fingers. "It shouldn’t take long at all."

  Leaving the chamber, he strode down the corridor, passing his guards, who all inclined their heads out of fear and respect. Mostly fear.

  Reaching the opposite end of the fortress, he stepped out onto a flat, stone walk, and looked up at the sky. From here he couldn’t see the brown rim of his section, but he could feel it. Just as he could feel the intruder seeking a way in.

  Growling beneath his breath, he raised his arms. "Let the games begin, witch-woman."

  Thirteen

  Floating in space, Beulah concentrated on the brown rim. A fine, blazing line, it disappeared into space on either side. To the normal physical eyes, it would be too far to see. To the spiritual eye, it was clear. She could see the vast area it covered.

  Fredrico’s ship was almost a tiny blob in the distance. The time to act was now, for she could feel the energy building up in an angry storm around her.

  Approaching the brown rim, she placed her palms near it, and felt the burning almost instantly. The rim was made of spiritual fire, one that could cause damage to any mystic trying to seek a way in. And that was Hortra’s first mistake.

  She wasn’t a mystic.

  Raising her arms, she concentrated on a golden light, brilliant and sharp, and with one downward movement of her arm, it severed through the brown rim in a blaze.

  Immediately forces rushed at her, evil forces from within the circle, and she kept them at bay only by keeping the protective light intact around her. The entities beat at the light, trying to find a way in.

  Glancing back at the ship, she sent Sinya a message through her mind.

  ::Now. Go through now.::

  The sleek black ship moved with speed, slipping through the broken rim, and with howls of anger, the entities tur
ned towards the ship.

  The white light around the ship kept it safe... for now. Beulah knew it wouldn’t take much to diminish the light. It was only a protection from the entities, from the spiritual. Not from the physical threats of the five fighters that appeared on the horizon, intent on destroying the pirate ship.

  She couldn’t worry about that now. That was Sinya’s concern. Her fight was with Hortra. He knew she was coming, there was no trying to fool herself about that. Now she had to find her way to Wes.

  Diving downward, she flew through space, leaving entities trailing furiously after her, trying to catch her but beating uselessly against her protective light.

  The fortress loomed up in the distance, cold and grey, against an equally bleak landscape. Rain came down in sheets, but it didn’t bother her. On a tower high in the air she saw the dark mystic standing with his arms upraised, his red cloak billowing out behind him.

  Even though too far away to make out his expression, she saw his face turn towards her. Pulling his arm back, he threw a fireball at her.

  It sizzled through the air, and she deflected it easily.

  He sent another, and she did the same.

  Slapping his hands together, he sent a red lightning bolt at her.

  This time she had to stop, the force of it halting her downward movement. Spreading her fingers, she concentrated on her protective light, forcing the red lightning back. Hortra strengthened the bolt, pushing at her, forcing her back.

  Using a surge of energy, she deflected it, and sent it soaring out into space, where it blew a hole in the brown rim.

  Continuing her downward plunge, she now could see the angry amusement in his face. Switching her direction, she made for the entrance of the fortress.

  Hortra’s spirit soared up to meet her, cutting off her progress.

  "So, we meet again, witch," he sneered.

  ::The boy is not yours,:: she stated.

  "You can only get to him through me."

  ::Then I’ll go through you.::

  He started to laugh. "You’re not cold-blooded enough to kill me, Beulah. And that’s the only way."

  ::Is it, just?:: With a sudden movement, she threw a streak of white light at him, watching it pierce his spirit and explode on impact.

  With a scream he vanished, and his physical body crumpled to the walkway.