“That’s a good plan.” Mirabelle stood up and brushed her hands off on her jeans. She bent down and re-tied her shoelaces, nice and tight. She slipped her backpack over her shoulders and tightened the straps, then fitted her broom between her bag and back. Matthew picked up his sword and started in front of her.
They crept to the front room of the house and risked a glance out the window. The streets were relatively clear at this point. Mirabelle had been sleeping for hours, and she assumed an Ogre walking by would have woken her. Goblin shrieks rang out, but they were far away, and in the interior of the city. With one last look, they ducked out of the protective house, and ran across the street to walk in the shadow of the wall.
The sky was a light purple at this point. Dawn was still a few minutes away, but a soft orange glow began to permeate around the horizon. They walked quickly, but quietly, and kept it to a walk. No need in becoming out of breath and deafening oneself to an approaching enemy. The silence was chilling. Mirabelle hadn’t been up this early or late in Aldris, but any big city usually had people wandering around at all hours.
Matthew pushed her against the wall with his left arm, drawing his sword in front of them. In a flash, a Goblin ran down the street past them, and slammed itself into one of the abandoned houses, without so much as a look their way. Mirabelle glanced up at the sky; there was a gold tint now. Matthew motioned to her to walk faster; they needed to get to the hole in the wall while the Goblins were running for cover.
They picked up the pace. Every few minutes, a Goblin would dash past, completely oblivious to the witch and warlock in the shadows. They all had hoods pulled up around their faces now, perhaps the reason for their blindness to Mirabelle and Matthew. The ground hadn’t shaken in hours. Mirabelle started to hope that Ogres also needed to stay out of the sunlight and were boarded up in the great hall where they would fit.
Matthew stopped and pointed. The hole was only a few feet away, maybe twenty. Mirabelle peeked behind them. She didn’t see anyone - Goblin, Ogre, or Elf. Slowly, they crept forward, ears pricked. Matthew went first, twisted his neck around the opening, then back.
“There’s an Ogre maybe a quarter mile away, but in the opposite direction of the woods. I think we should make a run for it.”
“Are you sure we’ll make it?” Mirabelle glanced around him. The Ogre was pretty far away, but so were the woods. He was seated, so it would take him a little while to get to his feet before chasing them. She had only seen one Ogre close up, and he didn’t look particularly fast, but his stride had to be three times the size of hers.
“Um, okay. Yeah. We need to get out of the city, and this is probably the best chance we’ll get.” Mirabelle tried to psych herself up. They needed to get to the portal before the sunset, because while the Ogres were big and pretty slow, those Goblins were as fast as bats out of hell. They both looked down at their shoes; their laces were still tight. Matthew leaned over and gave Mirabelle a quick peck.
“Ready?” He whispered. She nodded.
“One. Two. Three.”
Chapter 12
About seven steps into running, Mirabelle decided it was a bad idea. But once you’ve blown your cover and you are tearing through an open meadow blatantly in front of your enemies, there really is no going back. A million better ideas ran through her head while her feet moved as quickly as they could over the dry grass. They could have hunkered down in a house, or jumped from rooftop to rooftop until things died down. Chestnut probably died, so the portal would still be open in a week. Anona would have had to tell Lucy about Matthew, but, hey, they would be alive.
Too late for any of that. Almost at the exact moment they turned through the hole in the wall, the Ogre howled out to warn his friends. And in that moment, about six other Ogres appeared from behind a nearby hill, much closer than the original Ogre, and these ones had arrows. Terrible, broken arrows with rusty tips, so that even if you managed just to get a scratch, you would probably die of infection in a week.
“Serpentine!” Mirabelle screamed when the first arrow hit. Two were firing at them, while the other five began running towards them. Mirabelle tried to keep her eyes forward after catching a glimpse of five gargantuan creatures running at her with death in their eyes. If her adrenaline weren’t running so high at the moment, she probably would have fainted, vomited, and burst into tears. But, she kept running. She was pretty sure she hadn’t inhaled in a full minute but was still managing to run faster than she ever had before.
An arrow landed a foot in front of Matthew and the shock of it caused him to stumble a bit. He tried to catch himself, but fell to the ground with a thump.
“Matthew!” Mirabelle screamed, and stopped, pulling him to his feet. There was someone else behind them now, much smaller than the Ogres carrying a very large staff, but interestingly enough, wearing blue jeans. His hair was mostly gray, but had a few streaks of brown in it.
“STOP!” He commanded. “DO NOT KILL THEM!”
With his words, every Ogre stopped in their tracks. The archers dropped their bows, arms going slack at their sides. Mirabelle grabbed onto Matthew.
“Mr. MacEvoy?” Matthew whispered. “Ed?” In the next moment, the man commanded all the Ogres to his side.
“Come on,” Mirabelle hissed. “We have to get into the woods.”
“That’s…” Matthew started to mumble, then followed Mirabelle.
Once they had the cover of trees, Mirabelle risked a glance back at the Ogres. The man had redirected their efforts. Now, they were finishing tearing down the wall around Aldris. Mirabelle hoped that move made it easier for more Elves to escape. If any inside the city walls were still alive.
They walked in silence for a while, carefully stepping over twisted roots and fallen trees. An hour in, they found a running freshwater river, which was a blessing. They both drank handful after handful, not caring if some strange bacteria infected them. Dehydration was a far worse way to go. After drinking their fill, Matthew leaned back against a tree, and Mirabelle sat on the ground and took off her shoes. Her hiking boots weren’t ideal for running and she was going to have an enormous blister. Next time she realm-hopped, she’d remember to throw her running shoes in her backpack.
“I know that guy. The one who was controlling the Ogres.”
“Are you sure? He was pretty far away. He may have just looked familiar.”
“No, I know him. And he recognized me - why else would he have stopped the Ogres from tearing us apart? They had us; we weren’t going to make it.”
“Who knows, maybe he could sense we weren’t Elves and wanted to focus his strengths on destroying their world? Maybe this conflict is personal?” Mirabelle suggested. Matthew shook his head.
“Ed MacEvoy. I haven’t seen him in a long time. He used to come hang out with my dad once a year or so. They’d go hunting for a weekend, but Ed would always come by the house before they left. Last time I saw him must have been my dad’s funeral.” Matthew paused. “Yeah, I remember. He was acting really weird. There was another guy there who he was trying to start trouble with. My mom asked them to leave.”
“Is he… a warlock, maybe?” Mirabelle offered.
“Holy crap. Probably. I mean, he’s here, in the Elven Realm, he’s not a normal human. I had to have inherited this nature from someone. Hell, was my dad a warlock?”
“I mean, there’s a fifty percent chance. Either your dad was a warlock or your mom is a witch.” She continued, “And I think it’d be odd for Anona to know your mom so long and not notice anything.”
“But she didn’t notice with me.”
“That’s true. It could be either.” Mirabelle looked up at the sky. It was still in the first half of the morning, but she was anxious to leave this realm. They needed to keep moving. She stood up and offered her hand to Matthew. “Let’s get home. Everything will be easier once we get home.”
They still walked quietly and consciously. Just because the warlock, or Ed, had stopped one band of Ogre
s from attacking them didn’t mean he would be around if they stumbled upon another group. Mirabelle checked her map periodically. Walking through the woods definitely took them on a roundabout way, but neither of them wanted to risk parading themselves through the meadows. At the rate, they were walking, they would reach the portal by around noon.
It was a strange day. Dappled sunlight fell on the ground of the beautiful forest they trekked through; it would have been a wonderful hike, if they were simply on vacation, and not running for their lives. Weather was weird like that; rain on the happiest of days, blinding sun on the worst.
“I want to go home.” Matthew said, breaking the silence.
“I know, I do too.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go home so badly in my entire life. I want to sit at my kitchen table and eat a turkey sandwich. With chips. Then I want to take a nap in my bed. No Elves, no Ogres, no Goblins, no warlocks, just me and my quilt. And if it didn’t freak out my mom, you too.”
“That sounds lovely.” She stopped walking. “Come here,” she held her arms out to him. “Just, give me a hug for a minute. We’ll get going again, but for one minute, just come hug me.” Matthew stuck his sword in the ground, and buried his face into her neck. It felt nice to be in his arms for this moment, her hands wrapped around his waist, his breath against her skin. Once they got home she was going to demand a full two months of normal dates: handholding, watching movies, dinner at any restaurant within a forty-five-minute drive.
“Okay,” Matthew said pulling away. “Let’s go.” They turned, hand-in-hand, to continue their hike, and came face-to-face with three Elves pointing arrows at them.
“Holy shit!” Mirabelle yelled, wincing against Matthew.
“Warlock, come with us. You should have never left your prison.” One of the Elves commanded. “We will let your witch go if you come without a struggle.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mirabelle burst out. “You are in no situation to take him. Your entire city and the outlying wilderness is under attack! He’s not going back with you.”
“I agree with Mirabelle. We are walking to the portal. You are welcome to come with us.”
“Elves can’t travel realms,” a different elf said. He looked young, even by Elven standards. His voice quivered as he spoke.
“Just,” Mirabelle couldn’t believe what she was saying, “Just, stay with us. For some reason the last batch of Ogres didn’t attack us. And we hid in a house that a Goblin searched, but he didn’t find us. Maybe we smell different and they know we aren’t Elven. Who knows, we could smell like wild animals to them. We’ll keep you safe for a little while.” She didn’t want to go into the whole, there’s a warlock that’s one of Matthew’s family friends at this moment.
The three Elves stepped back for a moment, one keeping his arrow marked on the two of them. They whispered back and forth, some tones harsher than others.
“How do we know you are not using us as protectors?”
“It’s up to you,” Mirabelle responded. “We’re not going with you. And you could kill us, but it seems a waste of life in the present circumstances. You can also run the other way if we are set upon by Ogres.”
“Sounds good to me.” Matthew agreed. “Let’s go. You’re welcome to follow.” They set off walking, and for a minute or two, none of the Elves followed. But after a while, Mirabelle caught them in her peripheral vision, keeping their distance, but staying close enough.
“Are they going to talk to us? Or ignore us for the next hour?” Matthew snickered.
“We’ll see. At least they’re guarding the back now.”
The Elves were surely more tuned in to the surroundings than the humans. The third time Mirabelle whipped her head around to the sound of a stick breaking, the youngest looking Elf assured her,
“It’s only a beaver. Building a dam. We are not far from the river here.”
“Oh, thanks. Any of you Elves talk to animals? They might be good allies right now.” Mirabelle asked, half-joking.
“No.”
“Okay. There are some witches that can talk to animals, who could probably persuade a bunch of wildlife to help out during this invasion. I’m not one of them, though, so, I guess this information isn’t very helpful.” Matthew rolled his eyes at her.
“I’ve never met a witch or warlock before,” the Elf continued. The older ones stayed behind, largely ignoring Mirabelle and Matthew’s presence. “There are different kinds?”
“Yeah! Tons. I mean, more than I am even aware of, I think.”
“What magic can the two of you do?”
“I can fly.”
“I can realm-jump. I’m not enjoying it so far.” Matthew replied gruffly. He walked ahead, and motioned for Mirabelle to join him.
“Stop talking to him. These Elves are not our allies,” he whispered. “We just need to get to the portal and get out of this hellhole.”
“Excuse me for trying to be polite.” She hissed back.
“We are going to be at the portal soon. Just stay by me, and watch out for other Elves, Ogres, and my dad’s friend, Ed. I don’t want to talk to him right now.”
They came as close as they could to the portal as they could while still being under the cover of trees. Peering past the foliage, the quarter mile walk looked clear of enemies.
“I guess this is where we leave you.” Mirabelle said, reaching her hand out to shake the younger Elf’s hand.
“Can I try going through the portal with you?”
“BAY!” One of the other Elves yelled, sharply. “We do not travel to the Human Realm.”
“We’re going to die here. Our city is in shambles. Our best chance is to join forces with the Dark Elves, who hate us. What are we going to do, walk up to the nearest settlement and apologize for our triumvirate’s systematic slaughter of their people?”
“No Elf has survived a portal. Our bodies are not built for it.” The other Elf stated calmly. “We will approach the Dark Elves with caution. If it does not seem safe, we will try for the islands. There must be a boat somewhere that did not burn.” She reached her hand out to Mirabelle. “Good luck to you, witch. And to you, warlock. Safe journeys.”
“You as well.” Mirabelle answered, while Matthew stayed silent. The Elves walked silently deeper into the forest, until they completely disappeared.
“Should we run or walk?” Mirabelle asked Matthew, trying to figure out how fast they could get to the portal. “Will it deposit us back at Anona’s no matter what? Like, do we need to hold hands again?”
“I have no idea. Holding hands would probably be a good idea. But no matter what, we should get back to our world, right?”
“I hope so.”
“Let’s walk. I don’t see anyone coming and I don’t want one of us to trip into the portal.” He explained. Mirabelle stifled a giggle. That would be sort of hilarious. Matthew held out his hand to her, and she wrapped her fingers through his. They both kept their eyes on the portal, as if, like a leprechaun, it would disappear if you only looked away.
It had been sunny all morning, with only a smattering of clouds bringing occasional shade. The breeze was off the ocean, stirring the grasses and trees to its own chorus. Mirabelle had noticed, a few times, the wind picking up her ponytail and brushing her hair against the back of her neck. So, when the wind stopped, and suddenly it was dark, she was confused.
An arrow whipped through the air and stuck itself in the grass a few inches in front of Mirabelle’s foot.
“Run!” Matthew screamed, pulling her towards the portal. A line of Ogres on a hill were blocking out the sun. There were thirty at least, their hulking bodies forming a near moving mountain as they trotted towards them. Several were notching arrows into bows, others pulling out their large axes. Arrows found marks all around their feet while Matthew and Mirabelle ran in zig-zags. They were so close now; the purple swirl was nearly within reach.
Mirabelle was knocked to the ground, her face smashing against
the earth. She thought for a moment; nothing hurt. Matthew pulled her to her feet, yelling something about an arrow, but she couldn’t really understand him. They both just kept running, but now he had his hand over her back. Matthew was looking behind them as they ran, trusting Mirabelle to lead them to the portal. Five feet before they could have easily jumped into it, Matthew screamed.
“No!” He picked up Mirabelle and threw her at the portal.
Chapter 13
Mirabelle decided on it. She hated traveling through portals. She especially hated being thrown through them. She had ended up upside-down, and traveling with such strength, she nearly vomited.
And then, she was flying. Or rather falling. Or rather propelling very quickly at the ground. She screamed, watching the grass come closer and closer to her body, until she landed with such a force, that she whimpered.
“Mirabelle!” Anona grabbed her and wrapped her arms around her younger sister.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch! Let go!” Mirabelle screamed, grabbing her arm. Her left arm throbbed. She instinctively pulled it closer to her body, feeling a clean break in the middle of her forearm.
“I broke my arm,” she said, holding back tears. “Matthew?” No answer. She tried to stand up, but couldn’t until Anona carefully helped her. She was so dizzy. This wasn’t like coming home flying from the High Court. She didn’t feel alive; she felt injured and downtrodden.
“Matthew?” She called again.
“He hasn’t come through yet,” Dottie answered, keeping her eyes on the portal. It was then that Mirabelle noticed there were six other women standing around the portal. Some armed with crystals, some with candles, one with a good old fashioned rifle.
The Traveler Witch (Sister Witches Book 2) Page 10
