Of Flame and Light: A Weird Girls Novel

by Cecy Robson

  “But, Taran,” she says.

  I cut her off, gripping her shoulders. “We don’t have time to argue, and this is not the time to be weak,” I tell her. “I believe in you. If you want to live, you have to believe in yourself.”

  My hands slip from her shoulders as I face the remaining Lessers. “Tonight you’re no longer those so far beneath the rest. You are the coven. Use your magic to hex and curse those who seek to harm you, but most of all to protect each other. Don’t be pussies, it’s time to become the witches you were born to be.”

  The coven nods in affirmation, their expressions scared yet determined. My speech roused them, and perhaps under other circumstances I would be met with applause. But now is not the time, nor do I wait for it.

  I stomp forward in my bunny slippers which—I shit you not—open and close their mouths as I walk.

  Shayna and Emme hurry to flank me as Alice trudges beside me. Alice seems to be having trouble walking and I worry she won’t be able to keep up. “Keep her close to you,” I whisper to Emme.

  Everyone does their best to keep silent, but with a group this large wearing the shoes we are, it’s almost impossible. My bunny slippers alone are picking up debris and the coven sounds like they’re stomping out fire every time they take a step.

  I don’t think we make it a half a mile before Shayna grounds to a halt. My vision clears as dark magic charges the air around us, circling us like a swarm of vultures.

  “Something’s here,” Shayna whispers.

  Panic spreads behind me and Alice begins to moan like she’s in pain. I jerk to the left, then right, that awful energy that’s closing in sparking my magic from my core and setting my arm aflame.

  “Shayna, howl,” I tell her.

  She squats slightly, lifting her blade in front of us. “You sure?” she asks.

  “They already know we’re here,” I respond.

  In the past, Shayna’s howls have bordered on squeals. Not this time. She lifts her head toward the moon and cuts loose, her call so deep and resounding it rumbles the ground as the first of the zombie beasts attack.

  The lead one gunning for Shayna never reaches the tip of her sword. My arm shoots out a spiral of blue and white flame, blistering the leathery hide of a werebear and bursting open its decomposing flesh.

  Chaos erupts as the coven spreads out, their magic clashing against the dark energy surrounding us as they cast their first hex. Yet it’s the howl from the distant mountains that has me whipping in that direction.

  Shayna leaps in front of Emme, striking a boar across the legs and forcing it to the ground. She cuts off the head while I send a fireball into the cougar behind it. “It’s Koda!” she yells, veering toward me. “They’re coming!”

  “Get to the river!” I scream, sending a lightning bolt into the next wolf that attacks.

  The strike barely affects it. He stumbles and shakes it off, gunning for me. If not for Alice, throwing herself on top of it and ripping off his head, it would have killed me.

  “Ergh!” she yells, lifting the decapitated head over hers in triumph.

  I’ll admit, this gives me pause. But like Bren said, an angry zombie is dangerous and strong. And Alice is plenty pissed. I shake out my arm, trying to gather more fire, but the flame flickers out, despite the amount of power coursing through it.

  The decapitated boar head snaps at my feet. Emme sends it soaring, but as it lands it spurts into flowers. “Take that, bitch!” Merri hollers.

  The Lessers are fighting back, calling to the trees and earth around them. Paula is in the lead, her fear as evident as her determination. She clasps the hands of the Lessers on either side of her. “Imptetus!” she yells.

  “Attack”, she means. And damn it, nature does!

  Vines snake from the brush, tangling a cluster of werebeasts. Rows of ivy muzzle their snouts and fasten around their legs, pulling them down as the earth swallows them whole.

  I clench and unclench my hand. “Come on,” I beg, trying to will it to work as a cougar bounds toward me.

  Large branches smack her away from me. I think it’s Emme using her force until I see Fiona, moving her arms in the air as she manipulates the tree branches to defend us.

  The Lessers are kicking ass, but when I see the blood-soaked remains of a uniform, I’m reminded that we’re simply not enough.

  Flames involuntarily envelop my arm, but quickly putter out. I’m shaking it, trying to rouse it when Alice takes off, away from the river and deeper into the forest.

  “Alice!” I yell, charging after her. “Alice!”

  A wereraccoon, about the size of a dresser tackles me as I reach a dense stand of trees. I ram my fist into its mouth, coughing as my magic lights it up and what remains of its body begins to smoke.

  I roll it off me as it breaks apart, pushing into a sprint when Alice moans in agony. But even in her condition she’s faster than me, and she already sounds far away.

  More howls erupt, I almost stumble when I recognize them as Gemini’s wolves. He’s close, so are the wolves who answer his call. But instead of running back toward the river where I need to be, or in his direction where I know I stand a better chance of surviving, I race toward Alice, recognizing she’s in pain.

  A wave of nauseating magic surrounds me as the space between the pines narrows, slowing my steps. Again fire ribbons around my arm, squelching the sickness I’m feeling until it vanishes. I’m not sure what’s happening, but when the nausea and flames recede completely, I pet my arm in gratitude.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  I push forward, this time much slower. I’m not sure where I’m headed or where on the compound I am.

  “Alice?” I call when I can no longer hear her. “Alice?”

  Whimpering trickles from a small distance away as the trees begin to thin out. I step between a smaller collection of pines and onto a rockier terrain, using the moonlight to help guide me. It’s there I find Alice, standing near the edge of a cliff and crying large black tears.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. I gasp as I take in the vast clearing below us, gripping her wrist and yanking her down.

  At the center of the demolished field, three long stakes poke through the ground from the points of a triangle, lifting a lifeless and impaled body from each, several feet into the air. Rows of more bodies outline the shape. We’re far. But even from this distance, I know they’re mortally wounded, if not already dead.

  Another similar triangle has been created at the far end of the field, and yet another near the left side. We found the missing Lesser witches, but it’s the Superiors Savana chose to leech of their power.

  In the middle of the center-most triangle, Genevieve’s spine bows in an arc. I know it’s her by the way her long dark hair sways beneath her. Like the other Superiors, she’s been impaled. But unlike the rest, I think she’s still alive.

  Triangles in the spirit world are often a symbol of evil. In this case, they’re also sacrificial. Savana has cast enough mojo to lock Vieve inside and drain her of her magic. But to raise the werebeasts she needed more than strong witches. She needed a zombie.

  On a smaller stake beside Vieve awaits the other half of Savana’s spell. Unlike Vieve, this zombie wasn’t forced through a stake. She’s tied to it with rope, moaning loudly and giving me a small glimpse of her pain.

  I can’t see the zombie’s face, but I recognize her by the long brown dress she’s wearing. She’s the one Savana took with her when she escaped. I look back at Alice as she breaks down, sobbing.

  “You know her, don’t you?” I ask.

  Thick black tears drip down her deeply gaunt features. I swallow back my sadness, but it’s still hard to speak. “She’s the reason you stayed, isn’t she?”

  More tears fall, staining her sunken cheeks. She tugs on my sleeve and points. I nod. “I’ll help them,” I promise, even though, I’m not sure how.

  “Taran!” Emme calls. “Taran!”

  I scramble to a stand and hurry bac
k toward the trees. Alice doesn’t follow, not that I expect her to, and not when she’s hurting as much as she is. I don’t see my sisters right away, but Shayna sees me.

  “T!” she yells, rushing toward me with Emme at her heels.

  She throws her arms around me before I can explain. “We have to get out of here,” she says. “Koda howled again, but this time it was different. It’s a battle cry, the weres are positioning themselves to attack.”

  “I can’t leave,” I say. “The weres can’t destroy these things without fire and I’m the only one with the flame to do it.”

  My sisters exchange glances. Before anyone can respond, a pack of werebeasts howl in the direction I left Alice.

  The Pack has arrived and they’re ready to fight.

  Emme places her hand on my shoulder as my arm begins to glow. “Can you do it?” she asks. “Can you summon that much magic?”

  My focus falls to where the glow emanates in and out beneath my skin.

  “I have to,” I say, my voice shaking with my growing fear. “I found Genevieve.”

  “Dude. She’s alive?” Shayna asks.

  “Only barely,” I say. “This way. Just stay down, okay?”

  My sisters and I have seen our share of bad, but I have say, the condition the witches and Alice’s friend are in is hard to take. Both gasp as we fall onto our stomachs and take in the scene.

  “If I can reach her, I think I can heal her,” Emme says.

  “I think we’re too late for that, Em,” Shayna says.

  From the end of the field furthest away, we see them, rows and rows of mangled and dead werebeasts lining up. Savana is perched on the back of the elk in the lead, the staff with a skull at its center twirling gray smoke as she holds it against her hip.

  Her confidence makes her sit ramrod straight despite her ride isn’t ideal. I can’t stand her arrogance, but I’m not too stupid to recognize she’s secured the upper hand. Weres are outrageously bigger than the beasts they resemble, but Savana’s steed is more massive than most I’ve encountered.

  It’s also creepier than shit.

  More skeletal than flesh, its ribs expose what seems to be a beating heart beneath. To add to its lethality, a rack almost as tall as its length protrudes from his head, the points appearing as sharp as Shayna’s sword. And whether by coincidence or strategy, most of her zombie army are made up of the deadliest forms of werebeasts: bears, cougars, wolves, even hawks. But I suppose evil is as evil does and it’s not like she’s going to raise an army of wereducks.

  Emme’s breath hitches. “There’s Koda,” she says. She turns to me. “And Gemini.”

  She didn’t have to tell me. I saw his twin wolves step forward at the opposite end where the Pack is lining up. Their howls rumble as they prepare to attack. But if Savana’s triangles of death and dismay are away from her and her immediate reach, they must be cursed to hell and back, giving her enough assurance to leave them.

  The Pack is outnumbered by their dead brethren. And their dead brethren won’t easily die. Savana is using Vieve’s power and a zombie to raise the dead. But I have power, too, and a zombie of my own. Well, at least a zombie limb.

  I fall into a kneeling position and tug down the sleeve of my right arm. “Shayna, give me your knife,” I say.

  “Why?” she asks, her eyes widening.

  “The Pack needs a hand,” I insist.

  Alice lowers herself beside me, snaps off her hand at the wrist, and drops it into my outstretched palm. Something, with at least ten legs, skitters from the hollowed out bone. It races across my skin and leaps off my fingers. I swallow hard, and as politely as I can, return her body part. “That’s not what I meant, sweetie.”

  “Ergh?”

  I close my eyes, calling forth the magic I once held like friend. The familiar flicker of warmth and pain stirs my core as the flames gather more strength. The sting isn’t as bad, but it’s growing, and I know it’s going to get worse.

  “Taran . . . what are you thinking,” Shayna asks.

  “That we’re out of time, and I need to act.”

  As if to prove my point, the Pack charges, gathering speed as they tear down the field. Savana screams, not in terror, but in impeding victory.

  “They need my fire,” I stress, speaking fast. “The Pack won’t make it without it.”

  Shayna’s head whips toward the fight as live and dead werebeasts collide. Savana casts her first death curse, narrowly missing Bren, but killing the wolf beside him.

  “Oh, my God,” Emme says, covering her mouth.

  “T, don’t,” Shayna pleads.

  “I have to release what’s inside of me,” I tell her. “It’s the only way with all these zombies. Remember what Bren said, unless they burn to ash, they reassemble. Our wolves don’t have that option, Shayna.

  Emme may hear me and understand, but her tone reveals her panic. “If you cut that bind, your magic will explode like a grenade. You could blow yourself to pieces—”

  “And take everyone with you,” Shayna points out. “T, according to what Genevieve said, that’s a storm that’s been brewing inside you, waiting to blast all at once.”

  My eyes scan the growing anarchy, as more zombie werebeasts rush out from the forest. These creatures are everywhere and there’s likely more to come.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I say. “But you can’t stop a storm.”

  I snatch the knife from her hip. “Taran,” she pleads.

  “I have to do this,” I snap when she tries to take it back. “For the Pack and for the coven.”

  “But what if you die?” she counters.

  “I’m already dying, Shayna.” I don’t mean to be so blunt, but it’s the truth and I can’t stop now. “Ask Emme if you don’t believe me. I only have a few hours at best.”

  Emme stands, pushing her blonde hair away from her face as she chokes on her cries.

  “But . . .” Shayna looks at Emme. “Can’t you help her?”

  “No,” I answer for her. “But if I’m going to go, I’m taking these fuckers with me.”

  I stand and shove the blade beneath the strand closest to my elbow. But before I twist the sharp end up to make the cut, I meet their eyes. “I love you,” I tell them over the howls of more wolves. “Watch out for Celia and her baby. Give him a kiss from me when he’s born. And tell Gemini . . .” Damn it, I can barely speak. “Tell him I love him, too.”

  I wrench the blade up, slicing through the bind. I pause as the crook of my elbow starts smoking. “Um. You may want to step back,” I warn, looking up at them.

  They take off, dragging a moaning Alice behind them.

  I’m not really sure what’s happening, and despite all the bravado behind my heartrending speech, I don’t love what I see.

  Like a snake uncoiling, the bind unravels to my wrist and falls away while the smoke at my elbow ignites like a fuse, shooting out toward my fingers.

  I know what’s coming. That doesn’t stop me from swearing when my arm blows me to kingdom come and I’m launched over the cliff.

  The air smacks at my skin as I spiral downward. I call forth my fire, surrounding myself with it in a blink before I crash into the ground. Blue and white blazes spurt from the crater I create, but it’s my fire, my will, and this time, I’m in control.

  I climb out as the temperature builds around me, grabbing the protruding stones and roots along the sides to help me ascend. The hole I’m in is huge, and it takes time to reach the top. But instead of growing weaker, the flames encasing me feed my will and energize my spirit, compounding my strength and my fury.

  “Power,” I rasp as I reach the top. “Give me power!”

  Like a rush of adrenaline, a torridity of heat expands along my veins, compelling my feet faster until I’m full-out running toward the fight.

  A long deceased bison sees me and charges. I spread my hands, preparing to strike. Yet before I can launch my power the beast catches fire, as does the zombie hawk swooping down.


  I’m covered in flames. Every part of me florid and crackling with blue and white, including the footprints I leave behind.

  This is more than I’ve ever had or called. But instead of feeding my confidence, it prompts my fear. I can’t control what’s happening. I’m afraid, I’m about to erupt.

  My body rattles as the firestorm within me builds into an inferno. I rush forward, hurrying toward where Vieve is impaled. A wolf from the Pack whimpers as I rush past, igniting the creature he’s fighting, but also inadvertently burning him.

  His packmates notice, bounding out of my way, but also herding their prey toward my increasing blaze. My flames rise and expand as the smell of singeing and festering flesh fills the air. The heat lighting up the zombies, but also somehow feeding my magic and making it hard to control.

  I race forward, knowing I’m running out of time. The Pack must sense it, compelling them to act.

  A mountain lion thunders toward the sacrificial triangle. Before it reaches it, a second hawk dives, digging its talons into the lion and carrying it away. Another were tries, this one a grizzly. She slams against an invisible wall and disintegrates. No smell, no particles, no evidence of who she was. It’s no wonder Savana felt safe leaving Vieve, despite her being the primary source maintaining the zombies.

  I don’t know if what I have is enough to break through the wall of protection, I only know I have to try before it turns against me. I reach the triangle and hold out my hands.

  The flames catch the invisible wall. I’m not sure if it’s breaking through and try to move closer, but whatever is shielding the triangle shoves me back, making me almost fall. I try again, pushing forward until what feel like a truck bowls me over.

  The earth beneath me smolders as I push up on my elbows, but again something rams me, flinging me hard and sending me rolling across the field. I come to a stop far away from the triangle, leaving a path of flames.

  I look up to see Savana riding the wicked steed she used to mow me over. Christ, if my fire hadn’t shielded me, I’d already be dead. As it is, I feel like I’ve been thrown down a flight of stairs.