The Traveler Witch (Sister Witches Book 2)

by Colleen Luddington

  Every few minutes, the ground would shake, and Mirabelle could hear Elves screaming. She kept to the shadows as much as possible, not sure what was out there, but quite certain she did not want to meet whatever it was. The streets were oddly empty. She didn’t know if everyone was still stuck in the hall, or if the Elves were cowering in their houses, or if they had already escaped into the wilderness.

  She heard something, and it was close. Mirabelle ducked into a doorway, pressing her body against the wall. A commotion was coming down the streets. The ground shook with every step; she could hear furniture inside the houses falling over. She braced herself against the wall, grabbing onto the door knocker, and held her breath.

  It was huge. Male, she thought, only because of the overwhelming amount of body hair. It walked upright, dragging an ax the size of a sofa behind him. His body was solid, muscular, covered in so much hair it was nearly a pelt. She didn’t look at his face, afraid that if he saw her eyes, she would be dead. It didn’t seem to have a particular target it mind, just swayed its head from side to side, looking for opportunity. Mirabelle stood completely still, wishing she knew a spell to make herself invisible, or how to magic away frightening creatures. A few blocks away, someone screamed, piercing the silence. The creature laughed, picked up his pace, and walked towards the screaming.

  Mirabelle quickly looked both ways, then sprinted the last block to Pine and Cherry’s house. She waited until screaming started again, then broke their front window. She climbed in, and started up the stairs. In her room, she fell to the floor and grabbed her broom out from under the bed. In the hall, she paused. She could hear whispering. Pine and Cherry.

  She walked to the door she assumed was their bedroom.

  “It’s Mirabelle. Don’t scream; I am coming in.” She pushed the door open slowly. Pine and Cherry were crouched in the corner, holding on to each other. She rushed to their side, then dropped down to their level.

  “What is happening?” Cherry whimpered.

  “I don’t know; there is something out there. I saw one of them. Really tall, enormous, extremely menacing. I need to get to Matthew.”

  “What should we do?” Pine asked.

  “I don’t know, but I need to get out of here. I’m going home. If either of you have any experience fighting, you should get out there; your people need whatever support they can get.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better for us to stay here until the Aldris guard fights them out of the city?” Cherry questioned. “Neither of us has fought in over a hundred years. I can’t imagine we would be any help.”

  “I think running would be more important. These things are attacking everything they see or hear. Is there another stronghold nearby? A place where the people of Aldris could seek shelter?” Mirabelle wanted to leave, but she felt responsible for these two.

  “The only strongholds we could ever dream of making it to have been abandoned by Dark Elves. Or so we have been told. They could still be there.”

  “Well, I would take an army of Dark Elves over these guys.” Mirabelle stood up and stuck her hand out to Cherry. They shook, and then she offered the same to Pine. “Good luck to both of you. Is there a way to get up to your roof?”

  A secret staircase led Mirabelle through a tunnel-like hall that suddenly opened onto the roof. Cherry and Pine were going to try to get out of the city to the coast. They were too afraid to aim for the stronghold, even though Mirabelle tried to convince them that further away was better. There had been no commotion at the ports yet, so they hoped to get onto a boat and sail to one of the islands that lay a few miles off shore. There, they could alert the other Elves and hopefully stir up some help for their city.

  Mirabelle grasped her broom firmly in her right hand. She glanced over the edge of the roof. A few blocks away, she could see a group of five of those creatures, and they were joined by other things. These were shorter, closer to human height, and their terrible voices carried on the air. They sounded like crows shrieking their garbled words.

  She cast her gaze further, towards the prison. It was difficult to see in the night sky with only a speckling of lanterns lighting the streets. The prison was dark for now. All the interior and exterior lights had been extinguished. Hopefully Matthew was still there and not running the streets looking for her. She straddled her broom, grasped it tightly, and spoke.

  “Fly.”

  She flew higher than ever before. She didn’t want to risk someone seeing her and taking an interest in the witch flying over Aldris. The city beneath her looked like a war-zone on TV. Random buildings burned, bodies lay in the street. The smaller creatures were ransacking houses now, pulling out Elves by their hair, dragging them into the streets while they screamed. Mirabelle looked away, afraid to see what would happen to them, but when silence overtook the air, she could guess. She risked a side trip and flew closer to the water, hoping to catch a glance of Pine and Cherry making their way to freedom.

  The port was completely overrun by the larger creatures. With their enormous axes, they smashed apart every boat in the harbor. There would be no escape by water.

  Mirabelle flew over the prison. She circled several times, looking for some sort of access into the building from the roof, but it was a simple, flat stone roof with no doors, skylights, or trapdoors. She risked flying a little lower, nearly street level, listening for anything, a creature big or small, an Elf, anything. The streets were hushed.

  She landed in front of the door, and pushed it open. Thankfully it opened easily and she didn’t need to break a window to enter. Making any noise at this point seemed foolish. She tiptoed into the foyer. The halls were dark, but she was pretty sure she could get to Matthew’s cell by memory. She needed to find the keys, though, which Rowan kept on her person. She may have left Matthew locked in his room and fled.

  She started running, mainly out of fear and confusion, checking every room she passed, looking for Rowan. So far the Elves seemed more likely to hide than run; hopefully Rowan was hiding in one of these rooms. After a few minutes without any luck, she ran up the stairs to Matthew’s room. She softly knocked three times.

  “Matthew?” She breathed. “Are you still in there?”

  There was no answer, but she heard a shuffle in the room. It sounded like someone was stopping him.

  “Matthew.” She hazarded a louder voice. “Let me in if you can.” She jostled the door. It was locked. Matthew would answer if he was in there alone.

  “Rowan?” She switched tactics. “You need to let me in. I can get us to safety.” She waited. No answer. Damnit! She racked her brain. What would make her come out? These damn Elves would rather hide than fight. She understood it, but come on, the entire populace? No wonder they were an easy target for invaders. Mirabelle grasped her broom with both hands, holding it in front of her like a weapon.

  “Rowan.” She said sternly. “The building is on fire. You need to get out or you and Matthew will be burned alive.” Standing. Muffled voices were arguing. The door started to open, but was slammed shut. Mirabelle pushed against it, knowing it had been unlocked. She shoved her shoulder as hard as she could against it, tumbling into the room.

  “Mirie!” Matthew collected her into his arms. For a minute, she found so much reassurance in his arms, she just held him and let herself be cradled.

  “We need to get out of here right now. We need to get to the portal. Now. It’s a shit show out there right now. Terrifying.”

  “You can’t leave. He is a prisoner. It is my job to see that he stays in captivity no matter what happens.” Rowan broke in. She had her hand on her long sword. Mirabelle had never noticed the weaponry she carried; Rowan had always seemed so friendly. She didn’t now, moving to block the door.

  “We can get you out, too,” Mirabelle started, “You can come to the Human Realm for a little while, wait until things cool down here, then come back. Our worlds are pretty similar; it wouldn’t be hard to acclimate.”

  “I don’t want to go to your re
alm.” Rowan spat back. “I am doing my job.”

  “Yeah, you read her wrong,” Matthew muttered. “Very wrong.”

  “Rowan, if we stay here, we will all die. I, for one, don’t want to die in a foreign war. I especially don’t want to be ripped to pieces or hacked apart with an ax by some gargantuan creature.”

  “They’re Ogres. And Goblins.” Matthew supplied. “Incapable of realm jumping on their own, so something or someone brought them here.”

  “Okay, I don’t want to be murdered by an Ogre or a Goblin or die in a fire. We have to go.” She grabbed Matthew’s hand to leave, but Rowan half-drew her sword.

  “You cannot leave.”

  “Are you kidding?!” Mirabelle yelled. She dropped her broom with a clatter, and with all the strength she had, punched Rowan in the face. It knocked her to the ground. She sort of couldn’t believe her own strength. Matthew pounced on top of her, holding her arms behind her back.

  “Grab the curtain cord. I’ll tie her hands.”

  “You can’t leave! You’ll be caught and killed!” She pleaded. Matthew secured her hands, then dragged her to the bathroom.

  “We’ll lock you in from the outside and take the key. Hopefully someone will survive and come looking for you. You’ve got water for a couple days.” He turned to Mirabelle, “Is that okay?”

  “I think it’s the best we can do. We have to leave, now.”

  They walked silently through the halls to the door. Mirabelle put her finger up to her mouth and looked both ways. The street was clear. She pulled her broom out, and hopped over it, then motioned to Matthew to join her. He slid behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “Fly,” she whispered. Nothing happened.

  “Fly.” She spoke. Still nothing.

  “I don’t think it’s going to work with me on it.” Matthew whispered. “Maybe we’re too heavy? Or warlocks can’t fly?”

  “Ok. We need to walk then.” She pulled the map out of her bag and did a quick scan of the streets of the city. “The Ogres are easier to hear coming. The ground starts to shake when they are nearby. The Goblins are harder to spot, but their voices are hellish.” She looked over the map. “It’s about a mile and a half out of the city, then two to three miles to the portal. And we have about ten hours until it will be light enough to see. We can cross our fingers that the portal glows, and nothing has tried to go through it yet.”

  “Once we are out of the city, I’ll be more help. I remember the countryside pretty well. But, I was pretty distracted when I was being led through the city as a prisoner.” Matthew looked around, “I need a weapon. If it gets too dangerous, jump on your broom and fly away.”

  “I’m not going to abandon you. We’re in the middle of an interspecies war and the species we look closest to is being destroyed. We’ll get out of here together.”

  “Wait one second,” Matthew disappeared back into the prison. Mirabelle waited anxiously, perking up her ears to hear any sort of disturbance.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Matthew held a sword in his right hand, and reached for Mirabelle with his left.

  “Do you know how to use a sword?”

  “No, but I played baseball in high school. It’s probably similar.”

  Mirabelle kept the map in hand, redirecting their path every time the ground shook or a shriek rang out. Matthew darted his eyes in every direction, his hand on Mirabelle’s back. They had started on the most direct course, but were quickly led a different way due to some Goblin activity.

  After spending an hour getting to the wall, a task that should have taken less than thirty minutes, they ducked into a house. The door was swinging open and the front room was sufficiently ransacked that they doubted either the Ogres or Goblins would be back. The two tiptoed to the back of the house, and crouched into a corner. Mirabelle rubbed her neck, which was becoming increasingly sore from flipping between map reading and watching her route.

  “Do you remember where the exit is?” Matthew whispered.

  “Yes. We are not too far from it. But, I think that it’s probably being guarded. I know there is a broken part of wall; we could try that, but,”

  “It might be guarded, too.” Matthew paused. “How high do you think the wall is?”

  “Over fifteen feet. Maybe twenty?”

  “Too high for me to climb without a ladder. Again, you could fly over -”

  “But I’m not leaving you behind.” She paused. “We’ll think of something.” The floor started shaking. An Ogre was close. Matthew carefully tipped over a nearby table and pulled Mirabelle behind it. She slid against his back, making their profile as small as possible. The shaking got louder. And then louder. And then even louder to the point that with every step, Mirabelle and Matthew shook. She grabbed him around the shoulders and buried her face into his neck. A set of dishes fell off the counter with the next stomp. Mirabelle bit her tongue to stop from screaming.

  The shrieking started then. The Ogre grunted, clearly outside still, but the shrieking came closer and closer. Mirabelle’s mind raced. What should they do? Try to fight? Maybe they could take the Goblin the two of them, but the Ogre? There was no way. The Goblin was inhaling deeply, sniffing loudly in different directions. Matthew moved his hand slowly to the ground, gripping the hilt of the sword lying at their feet. Mirabelle’s broom was a foot away. She could pounce and grab it, but that would give away their position.

  The shrieking voice turned to a garbled laughter. It called out something to the Ogre, who laughed in turn. Then, they left. Mirabelle and Matthew sat still for several minutes, feeling the Ogre stomps getting further and further away. Once the steps turned to silence, Mirabelle turned to him.

  “What just happened?” She whispered.

  “I have no idea. But they must have known we were here. That Goblin was smelling us. Maybe we smell weird to them? Or like animals rather than Elves?”

  “Very strange.” Mirabelle went over the last few hours in her mind. She guessed it was nearing midnight. The sun wouldn’t be up for at least five more hours. She would feel better in daylight. There would be less cover than the darkness, but at least they would be able to see the portal.

  “Goblins! Goblins can’t go in sunlight!” Mirabelle suddenly remembered reading that in one of Anona’s books. “I don’t remember anything about Ogres, but they are much easier to feel coming. Should we wait here?”

  “Probably. Do you think we could outrun an Ogre in daylight?”

  “I don’t know. Would it be better to go in the dark?” It was clear neither one of them wanted to make the decision that might cost them their lives. Mirabelle sat back and closed her eyes. She tried to rack her brain of everything she had ever read witch-related in the last few months that might give her a smidgen of insight at this moment. It was too dark to pull out Johannah’s book right now, so that was no help.

  “Dawn,” Matthew started. “In old poems and folklore, dawn and dusk are the magic times. That’s when people fell into the fairy world or saw things that they weren’t supposed to. Maybe it’s the same here?”

  “We’re magical, so I guess our powers could be stronger at the transition times?”

  “And at dawn it might be confusing. The Goblins will probably be running for cover; the Ogres might be distracted.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Mirabelle agreed. “We’ve got some hours to burn.” She tried to suppress a yawn.

  “Why don’t you go to sleep? I’ll take first watch.” Matthew offered.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.”

  “Try at least. We might have to run and we will definitely have to be our sharpest. I’ll wake you in a couple hours so I can rest.”

  “Okay. I’ll try. But wake me if you hear anything. Absolutely anything.” She reiterated.

  Winter. The walk to the barn was covered in ice. Mirabelle held her arms out to steady herself from falling. She carried a small bag of dried apples as a treat for the citrus girls and Elsie. She fe
lt bad they had been cooped up for so long. The cold air felt refreshing in her lungs. She couldn’t remember the last time she had come outside. It must have been days.

  The girls were all happy to see her; even Elsie threw a nod her way. After distributing the apples, she sat down on the bench and rested, not wanting to return to the house just yet. Brownie padded in, and immediately came in for a head scratch.

  “Good little puppy,” she said quietly.

  “Mirie?!” Anona’s voice called.

  “In here!” She called back. Anona ran into the barn, her face distraught.

  It came back much quicker this time. Mirabelle remembered - she was in the Elven Realm. She and Matthew were in mortal danger. She was in Anona’s dream or Anona was in hers. This connection they shared was becoming stronger.

  “Quick before one of us wakes up,” Anona blurted out.

  “Warfare in the Elven Realm. Trying to escape through the portal. Should be out in the next twelve hours. Might not have a way to close it behind us. Have Dottie call every witch she knows. Be waiting for us. Not sure what might follow us. Be armed!” She screamed before falling into another part of her subconscious.

  “I just saw Anona.” She said, waking up. She sat straight up, bumping into Matthew’s chin.

  “In your dream?”

  “Yes. I talked to her. She’ll have a bunch of people waiting at the portal and some weapons I hope, the last thing I said might have been cut off.”

  “Does this happen a lot? You and Anona talking when you are sleeping?”

  “It’s only the second time it’s happened. I’m guessing it has something to do with us both being witches, and maybe with us currently being in different realms. What time is it?” Mirabelle peered towards the window.

  “By my guess, a few minutes before the first rays of dawn will start showing. I was about to wake you.”

  “You were supposed to sleep too!” Mirabelle whispered harshly.

  “I know, I know. But you were sleeping so soundly, and I’ve been pretty much lying in bed for three days. But I spent the time, once my eyes got seriously adjusted to the dark, looking at the map you had.” He pulled it out and pointed to a blurry area. “These trees are only two hundred yards or so away from the wall, where the break is. If we could get through there unnoticed and make a run for it, we could hide in the woods while we walked in the direction of the portal.”