The Iron Witch

by Karen Mahoney

From where they were crouched, they could see a pair of legs approaching the bench. Donna held her breath and imagined that she was invisible. The legs were clad in burgundy pajamas that were a little too short, revealing thin white ankles and veiny feet squeezed into brown slippers. Yuck. Definitely Simon.

  “Be silent,” the alchemist said, his voice cold.

  Donna jumped, and it was only Xan’s quick reflexes that stopped her from bumping her head on the underside of the workbench. She concentrated on slowing down her breathing.

  She also prayed that the statue alarm system couldn’t rat them out.

  Miraculously, the bronze head seemed to respond to Simon’s command. Blissful silence reigned in the laboratory.

  His feet moved as he reached upwards. “Has somebody else been in here?”

  Donna was sure she could taste her own fear as her heart beat faster. Or was it Xan’s heartbeat she could feel? Pressed against each other as they were, she could hardly tell where she ended and he began. Her legs were tangled up with his and her cheek was resting on his shoulder. His hand held the back of her neck in a gentle grip, his thumb moving nervously beneath her ear.

  The bronze statue spoke, almost reluctantly, as though the words were being dragged from it. Its voice was high-pitched and sounded far away. “Two people, master. The oratorium.”

  Relief flooded into Donna’s limbs. She slumped, her nose pressed into Xan’s neck, and took a shuddering breath.

  She pulled herself together as Simon’s feet retreated toward the alcove.

  “Ready?” she mouthed, fixing Xan with a determined stare.

  He nodded, and they burst from beneath the workbench and dashed across the chamber, through the open doorway, and out into the corridor.

  Donna ran until she thought her chest would burst. Her lungs burned and her legs felt like two heavy stones, but she kept pumping her arms and didn’t look back until they were all the way to other end of the passageway.

  Xan led the way as they bolted through the narrow opening behind the grandfather clock, then slammed it shut behind them. Donna cringed as she heard the ancient gears and mechanical workings rattle inside the casing.

  “Oops,” he said.

  She glared at him. “You’re going to wake the rest of the household up.”

  “Well, as long as there’s not another secret exit from the secret lab”—he waggled his eyebrows—“that dude in slippers can’t get out.”

  Donna resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. “Like he won’t know how to operate the mechanism from the inside. It’s his secret lab.”

  Xan shrugged. “We’d better get out of here—we’ve got what we came for.”

  Nodding, Donna ran her hand over the small bulge in her coat pocket. She just needed to make sure it was there. The elixir! She could hardly believe it, even now. She checked that the clock’s case really was properly shut, and then gazed at the ivory face once more. “Damn,” she hissed. “Look, it’s stopped.”

  Xan was next to her in a flash. “Yeah, and look at the time. Just after midnight—the exact time we opened it.”

  “We can’t worry about that now.” Using her cell phone as a guiding light once more, Donna ran over to the doorway of the library and checked the silent corridor for signs of movement.

  She was about to step out into it when she heard a sharp click from somewhere above them.

  She froze, her heart going like a piston. She couldn’t help wondering, if she ever survived this night, how many years she’d taken off her potential lifespan.

  Xan laid a hand on her shoulder. “Sounded like a door closing.”

  “What?” Donna demanded, trying to keep her voice down despite her rising panic.

  “There’s someone coming down the stairs.”

  Donna strained to listen. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. There’s someone moving around up there—sounded like they went up some stairs and now they’re coming back down again.”

  “Maybe they’re just coming down to the kitchen … ”

  His mouth was set in a grim line. “Or maybe they’re coming this way.”

  Donna moved to a window and pushed it open as far as it would go. “Over here, quickly.”

  “What are you doing?” hissed Xan.

  “We have to get out of here. Now.”

  Glancing once more at the door, he joined her at the window and began to unlatch the shutters, swinging them back against the outside wall of the house.

  “You first,” she said.

  “Don’t be stupid—”

  Donna pushed him. Hard. “No time to argue. You. First.” She enunciated each word and glared at him. There was no way she would let someone she cared about get hurt because of her—not ever again.

  Then the sound of banging started, from behind the grandfather clock.

  Xan cursed and swung his legs over the thick stone ledge. Even though they were on the ground floor, it was still pretty high up. The window overlooked a dip in the garden—which looked weirdly like a moat, though Donna had never thought of it that way before.

  She caught Xan’s eye once more before he could disappear. She had a bad feeling in her stomach—as though something bad was going to happen, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. Xan touched her cheek and gave her a quick smile. And then he was gone, turning around and half-climbing, half-sliding down the grassy embankment. He landed with an audible thump, making her wince.

  Climbing up onto the windowsill, Donna edged forward, gasping in shock as the cold air hit her face. She crab-walked a couple of steps until she had one foot outside the window, resting on the stone ledge, and the other still inside the room.

  At that moment, as Donna glanced down and saw Xan waiting for her to jump, the Blue Room’s light snapped on. She swung round to find herself facing Quentin Frost, standing in the doorway in pajamas and a navy blue dressing gown. She quickly whipped her head back around so that he would only be able to see her hair, covered in the black woolen hat.

  “Hey there!” Quentin shouted. “Stop!”

  A final thump from the other side of the clock punctuated the archmaster’s words, and Donna risked a glance over her shoulder to see Simon throwing himself out of the narrow gap.

  She didn’t hesitate; gathering her coat around her so that it wouldn’t snag on anything, she let herself drop away from the ledge. There wasn’t time to feel scared—Donna just trusted that Xan would catch her as she dropped like a stone toward him, her stomach rising up as she fell down. Air whistled past her face and her arms spread wide, as though she might be able to fly.

  She landed with a clash of bones, although Xan actually did manage to catch her before they tumbled in a heap on the ground. Donna sprawled across his torso and felt a guilty rush of adrenaline as she realized his arms were enclosing her body; she could hear him breathing heavily in her left ear.

  They disentangled themselves, and Donna shivered when his hand brushed her ribs as he helped her clamber to her feet. She spared a glance back at the window.

  Simon Gaunt stood silhouetted against the light, his right hand raised as though about to throw something. Donna grabbed Xan’s arm and tugged desperately. “Run!”

  They ran full-pelt toward the estate’s wall. Donna veered off to the right, heading for a small clump of trees, but Xan seemed to be taking a more direct route. Her breathing was labored and her heart slammed against her chest as she glanced back; lights were coming on all over the mansion, illuminating the windows and casting shards of brightness onto the well-tended lawn.

  Putting on a final burst of speed, Donna reached the wall after what felt like an eternity, gasping for breath and bent double as she tried to compose herself. Xan was waiting for her—he hardly seeming winded at all, damn him—and she had a good view past the trees, back to the house. She could just make out two people searching the grounds—Simon must have started rousing the staff. There weren’t many searchers, but enough to make it urgent that they get the he
ll out of there as quickly as possible. Knowing Simon Gaunt, he’d probably called the police already, Donna thought bitterly. Simon was so efficient and proper about administrative things, although a little voice told her that perhaps this time would be different. He would have found the broken incubator in his meditation space.

  He would know that the elixir was gone.

  Xan helped her up and over the wall, and it was just a short sprint to the car. It looked like they had made it, but Donna wouldn’t feel safe until they’d put a healthy distance between themselves and the Frost Estate.

  As they pulled away and drove through the gates—Xan checking in the rear-view mirror for signs of anyone following—Donna felt a gut-wrenching twist of dismay. She peeled off her woolen hat and undid her coat, wondering what on earth was the matter with her. They were getting away, weren’t they?

  And then she knew. The sickening realization crept up on her like a bad case of food poisoning. She ran her hands up and down her arms and double-checked the sleeves of her coat, just in case.

  “Shit,” she said quietly. “My charm bracelet is missing.”

  She’d gone over the possibilities a hundred times, but she knew she must have lost her bracelet somewhere in Quentin’s house. Worse than that, it most likely had fallen off in Simon’s lab. And here she’d thought it would bring her luck. Donna put her head in her hands and moaned softly

  “Maybe it fell off in the grounds somewhere; that wouldn’t be so bad,” Xan offered.

  Donna breathed out a heavy sigh. “How exactly would that ‘not be so bad’? Don’t you think that Quentin—or Simon, at least—will have every inch of the grounds searched?”

  Xan glanced briefly toward her, then fixed his gaze back on the windshield as he guided the car around a bend in the road. “I thought you said the bracelet was new. Maybe they won’t connect it to you.”

  Donna shook her head and shot him a guilty look. “It’s not that simple. Yeah, the charm bracelet is new to me, but it was my mother’s. She gave it to me when I visited her this weekend. Even if Simon doesn’t know it belonged to her, my aunt certainly will.”

  She pressed the window control and waited impatiently for the glass to slide all the way down. Fresh air always helped when her mind was clogged up like an old vacuum cleaner; she used to take long walks whenever she needed to clear her head. Losing both parents (and not understanding what was wrong with her mother), along with the problems she’d faced at school, had made her feel separate from the world. Walking had helped her feel connected again—to her physical environment if nothing else. She wished she could get out of the car right now and walk all the way to the Ironwood.

  Donna put a hand in her coat pocket and felt the reassuring shape of the vial. Pulling it out into the open, she tested its weight as though weighing its value. How much was she willing to give up—what was she really willing to sacrifice for Navin?

  She closed her eyes, feeling the chill breeze ruffling her hair, then squeezed her eyes tight before opening them again. She cleared her throat. “I can’t believe the Order had some of the elixir all this time,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve always suspected they were working toward creating more of it, because there’s so little remaining—or none at all. But the elixir of life has a crazy number of ingredients, and there are up to fifteen steps you have to follow to create it. The philosopher’s stone is needed for the final stage of the process; it’s like the match that lights the fuse.”

  And of course, she thought, the philosopher’s stone has been missing for centuries. Its last known location? London, England.

  Xan looked like he was about to say something, but then squinted out the window as something ran into the bushes at the side of the road. Just a cat, or maybe a raccoon, Donna thought as her heart began to pound. Every shadow seemed full of potential danger. She tried to remember to breathe.

  “Maybe the vial really is all they have left,” Xan said.

  Which she’d already wondered about, of course—and it didn’t make her feel any less guilty about even considering turning it over to the enemy.

  She took in one last lungful of freezing air before closing the window. It felt like her head might burst; the pain that had been building at the base of her skull was slowly spreading. She turned to watch Xan as he pointed the car in the direction of the Ironwood.

  “So, what are we really going to do with the elixir?” he suddenly asked. “We can’t just hand it over to Her Royal Badness like good little children.”

  Donna ran her hands through tangled hair, pushing stray strands off her cold face. “Honestly? I have no idea. As much as I want to save Navin—and believe me, I will save him one way or another—the more I think about it, the more it scares me to even imagine handing this over. Who knows what they really want it for?”

  “Well, if we’re being totally honest here, I gotta say I’m not too sure who the real bad guys are.” Xan looked over at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Donna, but from what I’ve seen so far, your Order of the Dragon seems pretty damn shady.”

  For a moment she couldn’t bring herself to reply. The thing was … Xan was right. Over the past week—and even before that—she’d felt her faith in the “rightness” of the Order begin to erode. Of course, she now knew that the real Maker was not, in fact, doing experiments on wood elves in his workshop, but this knowledge hadn’t restored her faith. All it did was add to her confusion.

  “I know,” she said finally. “What we just saw in Simon’s lab … ” Her voice trailed off and she blew out a frustrated sigh. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  “You mean, the possessed statue? Yeah, that was nasty.”

  “Do you think it was possessed?” Donna shivered. “It did feel … sort of wrong, somehow. Twisted and dark.”

  “Whatever it was, we were lucky it couldn’t see us under that bench. I thought we were caught for sure.”

  That was one sentiment that Donna could get behind. As to the rest of it, she just wasn’t sure. And each minute that now passed brought them closer to the Wood Queen and the waiting elves; closer to the possibility that she could save Navin.

  And she still didn’t know what the hell she was going to do.

  The dark green leaves and ragged branches of the Ironwood waited, silent, under a full moon bruised by indigo clouds. Donna shivered, even in her warm coat and hat. She wished Xan would put his arm around her, then immediately berated herself for thinking like that when Navin was in such danger. What was wrong with her? She sighed, and was surprised to find that she was still shaking after their escape from the Frost Estate.

  They were tramping through the undergrowth, in search of the entrance to the Old Path they’d used before. Donna had been quiet ever since they’d entered the Ironwood again; she couldn’t stop thinking about what was ahead of them, and all that had happened to her since meeting Xan at the party just this past Saturday. Her hand closed reflexively on the small pouch in her pocket, as though seeking reassurance that it was still there. Somehow, just knowing that the vial was safely in her possession gave her the strength to continue.

  Xan came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide.

  The sound he’d heard made Donna’s blood freeze. Distant, otherworldly screams echoed through the trees, making her ears hurt and setting her teeth on edge. Her heart felt as though it had stopped beating, and her whole body was suddenly overcome with weakness. She felt as if she was about to faint.

  It was like a high-pitched screeching, scraping along her nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. It sounded like a small child being murdered.

  If she didn’t know any differently, she might have thought it was the sound of foxes. How she wished it was just foxes.

  Xan met her gaze and she knew he saw her fear—his own face registered something she couldn’t identify. His eyes were guarded, their usual glow faded to a deep moss color, but there was something in his expression that let her know he wasn’t as cool as he might
like her to think. “What was that?”

  Donna swallowed, unable to get past the dryness in her throat. “That was our cue to move as fast as possible.”

  He stopped her from walking past him, his hand gripping her arm above the elbow. “Was it what I think it was?”

  She knew she was being horribly defensive, but she couldn’t help it. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Xan. I’m not a mind reader.”

  Undeterred, Xan trailed his hand down her arm until he could clasp her fingers gently in his. “The Skriker.”

  He made it a statement, so she didn’t bother to reply, although she didn’t take her hand out of his when they continued walking.

  Xan led the way off the main path and they battled through the crowded bushes and ferns she recognized from their earlier trip, Xan once again pushing the brambles aside so she could climb through.

  They arrived in the tiny clearing and stood close together. The trees seemed to loom over them, casting shadows upon shadows in the moonlight. Donna shivered, feeling that same heaviness resting on her shoulders and pushing at the base of her skull. She tried to make her breathing shallow as she anticipated the rotten smell of the damp, mossy tree trunks, but it was impossible to avoid smelling it. She wrinkled her nose.

  Xan repeated the ritual magic that would allow them to walk the Old Path, gathering dirt and leaves from the cold earth. Donna knew that when he raised his head his eyes would once more be brightest viridian. The closer to the heart of the Ironwood they got, the more fey he became. The thought both scared and excited her.

  He stood before her, his hands full of earth and twigs. “Hold on to this like last time, Donna.”

  They were linked by nature and magic as Xan spoke the ancient words that would open the door and take them into the Elflands. His skin glowed golden, seeming to compete with the cool moonlight that surrounded them, and his eyes sparkled brightly. Donna caught her breath as she felt the tug of power in her stomach and waited for her hands to start hurting.

  The sudden wave of darkness wrapped itself around them, momentarily blocking out the dim light, and the scent of damp decay rose up. The smell almost made her gag as it crept between her lips and down her throat.