soulofawitch_463-9e1.htm

by Soul Of A Witch (lit)

  ::You underestimate me, Hortra,:: she said softly.

  She knew she’d bought herself some time by catching him off-guard, but he’d be back--madder than ever, and looking for blood. She had to move fast.

  Soaring through the open gateway, she ignored the huge, demon dog that bayed at her as she went past it. Chained to the very fortress through its owner’s hellish connections, it panted after her, but couldn’t get past her barrier.

  She could feel the pull of Wes’s spirit, the fear that emanated from him. Flashing through the corridors, she soared up the stairs and burst into the chamber. Immediately she saw the black cloud roiling in the middle of the chamber, and knew she’d found Wes.

  Drawing near, she reached out and felt the evil that boiled around Wes, keeping him imprisoned.

  ::Beulah!::

  ::It’s me, Wes. Calm yourself--::

  A loud explosion shook the chamber, and Beulah felt the force of it, the wind ripping at her. Spinning around, she saw Hortra in the doorway. His eyes burned with an unholy light.

  ::Think to trick me, witch?:: he roared. ::I’m not that easy to get rid of!::

  ::Never thought you were,:: she returned easily.

  ::You’ll rue the day you came here, witch! I’ll cut out your heart and display it on my wall!::

  Moving fast, Beulah sent another white flash at him, but he had barricades of his own up, and deflected them with ease. Moving forward, he roared again, the sound shaking the walls.

  Drawing on her power, Beulah crossed her wrists, concentrated on the goodness she had inside her, and breaking the contact of her wrists by pulling them sharply out to the sides, she unleashed it onto Hortra.

  Golden light penetrated his barrier, burning through him, and with a howl of pain he fell back a step. But he didn’t stop. He continued to move forward, closer and closer.

  Unfazed, Beulah sent more of the golden light into him, pushing him back, forming a shield wide enough to go in front of Wes, sheltering him from Hortra’s spirit.

  ::Do not think you can beat me, witch!:: Hortra snarled. ::I am the dark mystic, and you are a mere witch! My powers come from the depths of evil, and yours come from the illusion of goodness.::

  Suddenly he started laughing, and Beulah saw the darkness rising from his hands, building up in a black, roiling cloud. It started to close around her.

  She widened her light, pushing upwards, but the roiling black mass kept building up, higher and higher, pouring over her until she was brightness encased in darkness. Then the blackness started to get smaller, seeking to squeeze it’s way through the protective light.

  ::You can’t get me this way, Hortra," she said. "I don’t give in that easily.::

  ::You are strong, that is true. But strong enough to protect your lover, the boy, and yourself?::

  Through the darkness she heard Wes cry out in fear, and bits of intercom conversation bombarded her, Sinya’s voice calling out orders. "Ephim... the lasers... there’s one coming... to your right... God above!" An explosion sounded, the swearing of men, a cry of pain. "Ralfis, a head count!" Other fragments came from different crew members. "Blood everywhere... there’s a bloody great hole in the hull... get a medipak up here now! Sinya, there’s another fighter closing in..."

  She heard another explosion.

  ::Your lover is getting the worst of it, Beulah. Think he can last long against my fighters?::

  Knowing he was trying to force her concentration away, weaken her by worry, Beulah steadfastly exerted pressure, forcing the darkness to give way to her light. Finally she burst free, and gazed across the room at Hortra.

  ::I’m impressed,:: he said mockingly. ::You are a strong little thing, aren’t you? So determined, too. But I have more surprises for you, witch.::

  From the shadows leaped the demon dog, scratching and clawing to break through her barrier. When it couldn’t get to her, it turned to the roiling mass that contained Wes.

  Throwing herself before the cloud, Beulah moved the shield up again. ::Your beastie can’t get past, Hortra. Why do you keep trying?::

  ::Because I’ve never lost, witch, and I don’t intend to lose now. You think I’m weak, don’t you? You think you have it over me. I think we need to add something further to this.:: Holding up his hand, Hortra made a fist. ::Try this.::

  The strength with which he threw the mystical wind slammed her back against the black cloud, and immediately bits of it clung to her, seeking its way past the barrier. At the same time the demon snapped at her face, and two shadowed hands came from the floor below, seeking to wrap themselves around her ankles.

  Concentrating on the attacks, she saw Hortra laughing.

  ::The best is yet to come, Beulah,:: he stated. ::I would like you to really join me, now.::

  In one movement he snatched his fist from the air, turning it around and drawing it close to him.

  She felt the dragging sensation then, the ripping pain of her physical body being sucked through metal, torn through space, and flung into the corner of the chamber. She stumbled with the blinding pain of it, the unnatural power of it making her falter. The darkness immediately tried to claw its way through the cracks, but she managed to hold on to the barrier, keeping it intact.

  ::Oh, so strong.:: Hortra shook his head in mock admiration. ::How strong are you in the flesh, Beulah?::

  A rushing sounded in her ears, and suddenly she was slammed into her body, the force making her ears ring and her head throb with pain. Gasping, she fell forward onto her hands and knees, sucking in great lungfuls of air. Shock made her shiver, as she felt the pain of her body’s flight through space, the sucking of it through portals of hellish flight before landing here.

  Hortra’s laughter echoed around the chamber, loud and harsh. ::Surprised, witch?::

  Looking up, she watched him stride forward until he stood before her. Behind him she saw his body walk forth in jerky motions, then his spirit faded into his body, and he was one again.

  She tried to separate herself from her body again, but pain ricocheted through her.

  "You didn’t know I could command your body when you weren’t in it, did you?" Hortra said conversationally. "Well, I can."

  "Goody for you." Holding onto the wall, she moved slowly upright.

  "You’re impressed, I can tell." He sighed. "But I did think you’d have more fight in you."

  "There’s fight in me, don’t worry about that." Sweeping her hand away, Beulah swiped force at him, sending Hortra staggering back.

  Surprised, he blinked at her. "What the--"

  "I’m not completely helpless in my physical body, mystic," she replied, and swung her hand again.

  He smashed back against the wall. His recovery was quick, as with a snarl he flew upwards, levitating in the air. The red lightning shot from his hands, slamming into her with bruising force, driving her back against the stone wall with the force of it.

  Pain shot through her, a burning pain as the mystical streak tore through her physical body and into her spiritual body. Jerking up against the agony that started to splinter through her, Beulah cried out.

  "I’m not done with you yet, witch," Hortra laughed low. "Not by a long shot."

  ~ * ~

  Sinya watched the fighters wheel in the air and come back for another try, their lasers spitting death.

  "Ephim, have you got them in your sights?" he yelled into the intercom.

  "Aye-aye, Cap’n! Ralfis has the special shots loaded, and it’s going now!"

  A muffled roar sounded, and the ship shuddered as the fire power given to them by the unknown donor exploded from the laser cannons. The light flickered in the cabin, and Sinya exchanged grim glances with Drake and Franc.

  "I don’t know what the bloody hell is in that stuff," Franc said, "But are you sure it’s not going to blow us apart, too?"

  "It’s blowing up those fighters, and that’s all I care about," Sinya replied tightly. "Load up again, Ephim! Keep the laser fire going!"

  "
Aye-aye!"

  The ship shuddered as it took another direct hit. An alarm sounded, and the bright lights of the cabin flickered again.

  "Shit!" Sinya looked at the plan of the ship when it came up on the viscomm. "Damage report, Beli!"

  "We’re leaking oil from the thrusters, Cap’n."

  "Can you patch it for now?"

  "Already onto it."

  "There’s more fighters coming," Drake announced grimly.

  The plan of the ship was replaced with the view of space outside, and as they watched, five fighters came into view.

  "Bloody hell." Franc whistled. "This doesn’t look good."

  It didn’t look good at all. His ship was under attack now by seven fighters. It couldn’t take much more. Grimly Sinya hoped Beulah was faring better. If she could get Wes’s soul and get back on board, they could try and make a run for it.

  Another direct hit shuddered the ship, and actually made it dip and start a downward spiral.

  "Hold on!" Drake yelled.

  Sinya slammed back against the wall, and grabbed onto the strap above him, hanging on for all he was worth. Alarms sounded, and the sound of men swearing and calling out in panic came over the intercom.

  "Stay at your posts!" Sinya yelled. "Strap in and hold on!"

  It took several heart-stopping seconds before Drake regained control of the ship. Pulling it out of the spin, he veered upwards--and Sinya stared at the scene on the screen.

  Another ship was throwing laser fire at the attacking fighters. Blue flames shot from the laser cannons, and two direct hits were scored.

  "Hey!" Franc looked hopeful. "Think this could be Beulah’s unknown friend?"

  "I don’t know," Sinya replied with a grim smile. "But we’re taking advantage of any help. Right now, it’s fighting our enemy, so I’m counting that as a bonus."

  "Can you establish contact with the ship?" Franc asked.

  "No." Drake shook his head. "He’s got his viscomm turned off to communication."

  "Don’t worry about it." Sinya looked at the fighters looming on the viscomm screen. "Our first priority is the fighters."

  They managed to score several more hits, but not without sustaining severe damage themselves. Alarms were ringing until Sinya slammed his hand down onto the mute control.

  "You’re going to have to bring us down onto the surface," he told Drake tersely.

  "The surface?" Drake gave him a wary look. "Near Hortra’s fortress?"

  "Yes. We can’t stay up here any longer. Land us--now."

  Taking a deep breath, Drake turned to the control panel and started keying in the codes.

  Switching on the intercom, Sinya informed his crew, "We have to land. Drake’s taking us down now. The shooters in the laser gun pits, keep firing at will. Everyone else, prepare yourself for battle on the ground. I don’t know what we’re going to face down there... but I doubt it’ll be good."

  "Great." Franc sighed. "Just wonderful."

  Grimly Sinya watched as the bleak planet belonging to Hortra drew nearer. His ship shook with another blow, but he saw another fighter scream past the porthole in a blaze.

  Their unknown rescuer wheeled past them, veering away to blow another fighter from the sky. Now there were only four of Hortra’s fighters still flying, and they were hot on his tail. It was only the persistent gunfire from his own crew, and the deadly fire from the unknown ship that kept Hortra’s fighters from blowing Sinya’s ship out of the sky.

  "How close to the fortress do you want us to land?" Drake asked.

  "Not too close, but we might be able to help Beulah, seeing as we’re not going to be any use in the sky," Sinya answered. "I also don’t want to risk blowing a hole in the fortress wall if we’re forced to fire on troops coming out. So not too clo--"

  A screech of metal and a muffled roar broke through his words, and the ship started to spin crazily.

  "Oh shit!" Drake yelled. "The steering’s almost gone!"

  "Then just land us where you can!" Sinya ordered.

  "Going by our course now, that’s going to be almost on top of the fortress!"

  "Too late to worry about that now." Sinya snapped out orders to his crew. "Prepare for possible impact!"

  Franc activated the metal sails, trying to slow their descent, but when they entered the atmosphere, sparks flew from the front of the ship.

  "What the hell--" Setting his jaw, he ground out, "Bloody mystical crap!"

  The bleak landscape loomed up, and their approach was too fast for the hoped-for controlled landing. Drake used both hands to pull back on the lever, and just managed to lift the nose of the ship before it hit the rocks.

  The torturous sound of metal scraping on rock accompanied the jarring sensation of the landing. The ship slewed around, doing a full turn, before slamming up against a cliff face. A shower of rock smashed down onto the top of the ship.

  Sinya’s ears rang from the horrendous noise, and his heart thumped loudly in his chest. Gasping, he released the strap he’d been holding onto, and slumped to the floor on legs that shook suddenly.

  Drake was still gripping the lever with both hands, his normally pale face sheet-white.

  Franc was sucking in deep breaths and shaking his head, eyes wide. "We made it. Oh my God, we made it. I don’t believe it. We made it. Oh my God..."

  The sound of a fighter swooping down made them all instinctively cringe, but it swept past them in a blaze to explode against the rocks nearby.

  "Our friend..." Franc croaked. "Our friend is still up there."

  Grabbing the back of Franc’s chair, Sinya pulled himself to his feet and looked at the viscomm. The screen was a crackling haze, and a thin trickle of smoke came from behind the console.

  Turning to the intercom, Sinya cleared his throat twice before asking, "How is everyone?"

  A jumble of swearing and groans answered him, too jumbled for him to understand.

  "Beli?" He queried.

  "I’m here."

  "Do a check on the second floor here for me. Ephim?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Do a check of the third floor and laser gun pits. Report back to me, both of you."

  He waited impatiently, running his hand through his hair and over his face, and peering out of the porthole without seeing much apart from rock.

  Finally the checks came in. Two of the pirates were dead, one seriously injured. The rest had cuts and scrapes, but were alive.

  "Okay," he said grimly. "We’re not out of this yet. I’m going out to see where we’ve landed. Ralfis, come with me. Ephim, are the laser guns still working?"

  "There’s bloody great boulders on the top gun pits."

  "Right. So they’re out of commission. Everyone arms themselves, but no one come out unless I give the word."

  "Aye-aye."

  Meeting Ralfis near the stairwell leading down into the huge cargo area, Sinya noted the makeshift bandage around the top of his friend’s shaggy head.

  "Are you up for this?" Sinya asked in concern.

  "Just a little knock, Cap’n," Ralfis replied with a grin. "Adds a certain touch of sexiness to myself, don’t it?"

  "You are a sick man, Ralfis." Shaking his head in relief, Sinya went down the staircase. Once at the ramp leading outside, he hefted his laser in one hand and looked at Ralfis. "Ready?"

  "Always ready, Cap’n." He palmed his laser in one hand, a machete in the other. "Let’s do this."

  Pulling the lever, Sinya stood to one side as the ramp lowered. Nothing came into view except for towering rock faces, and boulders scattered around them on the ground.

  Walking cautiously down the ramp, he glanced around sharply, trying to spot anything alien that could cause them harm. The landscape was empty of everything save drizzling rain, and cold, slick mountains of rock. Thunder boomed in the distance, and a glimmer of lightning showed on the horizon.

  Straightening, he walked further out and rounded the rock wall. Coming to a stop, he stared up. The fortress loomed up, cold an
d grey, seeming to almost be a part of the landscape. Towers reached for the sky, black windows staring sightlessly over the barren terrain. High above one of the towers a carrion eater soared, and dipped.

  "Bloody inviting place," Ralfis commented, coming up beside him. "I take it that’s where Hortra lives."

  "And where he has Wes," Sinya replied. "And where Beulah is."

  "Which tower, do you think?" Ralfis scanned the fortress with a keen-eyed gaze. "Or you think the dungeon?"

  "I don’t know." Sinya sucked in his breath thoughtfully, studying the fortress. "Where would a mystic go?"

  "I know where he comes from," Ralfis muttered. "Hell."

  Sinya grunted. Suddenly a glow caught his eye, and he looked up at the highest tower.

  ~ * ~

  Laughing maniacally, Hortra sent bolt after bolt of red, splintering lightning into her, and she felt her very soul being shredded. Falling to one knee, she hunched over. Holding out one hand, she tried to focus and call up the protective white light. He didn’t give her time, and with a sharp, downward movement, he slammed her face down into the stone floor.

  Gasping, head buzzing with pain, the taste of blood in her mouth, Beulah braced her hands on the floor and tried to push upright.

  "Defeat is not so sweet a taste, is it, witch?" Hortra stood and watched her. "How does defeat taste? I wouldn’t know, you see, because I always win." Kneeling down, he tangled one hand into her hair and jerked her head up. "I never lose."

  Reaching up, she grabbed his wrist, and felt the surge of power between them. Good and bad, so closely entwined, yet so far apart. "You haven’t won yet, mystic," she panted. "I will never give in."

  Throwing back his head, Hortra laughed mockingly. "Perhaps we should let Wes witness your downfall, witch? Would you like that?" He looked across at the black cloud imprisoning Wes. "Would you like to see your precious saviour defeated, boy?"

  Beulah could feel Wes’s fear and frustration from where she lay on the floor. The one thing she couldn’t let Wes see was her lose the fight, and she concentrated on building a sudden surge of power to thrust Hortra away.

  He skidded back several feet, and his face turned ugly.

  "Don’t think you can beat me, witch." Sweeping his fist into the air, he repeated, "Don’t think you can beat me!"