Coven Master

by W. J. May

  “They were waiting for you,” he said.

  Atlanta bent down and pulled the knife out. “There are more coming.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, sheathing her weapons and turning to make her way back to the basement. From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow move, red eyes burning in the storm, then quickly disappearing. From the speed of the visitor, she knew it was a Vampire.

  Since when do they willingly work together?

  “They’re compelled,” James said as she opened the door. He was standing on the other side, leaning against the banister, scratching his beard and staring at the ceiling in contemplation.

  Atlanta didn’t reply. She turned and locked the door from the inside. It would give them some time if any others decided to come into the house—or what was left of the house. She spun around and made her way down the stairs, Darian and Raul followed her. Once in the basement she opened a weapon cupboard and picked the ones she needed. Darian and Raul stood almost frozen as they watched her. She could sense their uneasiness.

  She ignored them and moved past where they stood, opening the secret passage to the underpart of the basement. So help if anyone or anything’s down here. She doubted it, but the thought crossed her mind anyway. She stepped into the vestibule and fell to where the bikes were supposed to be parked. On her left was the table where James normally sat, either working on the bikes’ mechanics or creating sharper weapons.

  She felt a surge of feelings creep up on her as she saw the shadow of James standing over the table, the sweat accumulating on the side of his forehead and his arms wrapped around the end of an arrow. She couldn’t tell if she was remembering him, or if he was actually standing there, her mind playing tricks on her as it had been doing ever since she had stepped out of the tunnels in the Dome.

  “You’ve gotta stop popping up like that,” she mumbled.

  “Apparently you still need me,” James replied.

  She walked over to his workstation, examining the weapons he’d been last working on. There was a series of blades that were curved in various ways. One of the blades had its edges curved like a concave lens, its tip unsharpened, with a slit on the tip where another thick sheet of metal could’ve been fitted in. There was something about all the weapons that was peculiar, but formed a pattern that she was beginning to understand.

  All the arrows and blades were lined with a green metal that glowed like an emerald but felt more like a steely knife. There were three guns that looked more like nail guns than usual pistols. They were surrounded by bullets that were cylindrical and thin on both ends. The bullets were like the edges of the rest of the weapons, made of the same green material.

  She knew the green resembled some sort of magic. She remembered James had started working on these weapons at the same time she had first told him about the red, glaring eyes of the compelled attackers on the football field of Calen High. The connection was instantly made in her head. James must’ve been working on weapons that could possibly be of some effect against the hybrids. She glared at the table. She clearly wasn’t equipped with the knowledge of what they did.

  What am I going to do with these?

  “You have friends outside,” James replied. “I’m sure they could figure it out.”

  “I don’t trust them.”

  “You don’t have to.” James smiled. “Right now, it’s enough to help you survive.”

  She felt her eyes burn again.

  “Speaking of which,” James glanced behind them, “I think it’s time you actually got out of here.”

  Chapter 10

  Darian and Raul sat in silence. They weren’t leaving. At least they weren’t going anywhere without Atlanta. No matter what she wanted or said to them. They sat at opposite ends of the couch, each lost in their thoughts. Once in a while Darian would stand and walk around, softly and slowly, his eyes taking in every light in the basement and his mind alternating between thoughts about what should be done next and the conversation he’d had with Atlanta. Even though their conversation was brief, it made him wonder about her. Something was different about this Druid. He just didn’t know what.

  “I think we have to leave the city now,” Raul declared suddenly. “With how it is outside, there’s no way we can find Adelaide let alone kill the countless hybrids on our own.”

  “I agree we’re outnumbered and out-powered, but leaving now means we risk returning to the ashes of this city later,” Darian replied. He wanted the witch destroyed, or captured at the very least, but how were they going to do it?

  “But staying only means that we foolishly overestimate our ability. We can’t possibly fight on our own. Even if Atlanta is capable of fighting the hybrids with us, we’re still out-powered. And we don’t know what Adelaide has planned. We’re too...vulnerable.”

  Darian returned to the couch and sat heavily, leaning on his knees and looking at the floor. He lifted his head and looked at Raul. “If we leave, we can call for more Druids to come, but by the time they arrive I fear it’ll be too late to save the city. I fear the hybrids will go beyond Calen,” he said. “We must make sure they’re contained in Calen.”

  “And how can we possibly do that?” Raul stood.

  “We have to stop them here. And get help.”

  “Are you saying one of us should stay in the city while the other leaves?”

  “No!” Darian shook his head. “That cannot happen. We have to be together, the two of us. United, we can stand against her. And now it has become the three of us.” Darian pointed at the wall where the secret passage to the basement was. “I believe she needs us as much as we need her.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  Darian lifted his eyes to the ceiling bathed with the fluorescent lights. “We can’t risk losing Adelaide’s trail. The witch has a habit of disappearing whenever someone’s on to her.”

  “If we stay here, she’ll realize exactly where we are. We’re sitting ducks.” Raul sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

  “And we’ve nowhere to hide or protect ourselves. Hiding in a basement or sneaking around in Calen isn’t going to do us any favors.” Darian pressed his lips tight together a moment. “You were right. We should leave the city, call on the forces from the north. We could be back in here in less than a week. Hopefully Adelaide won’t realize we’re gone. That might give us some time.”

  “Why not call on the Druids back home?” Raul asked.

  “I’ve sent them all to Armenia, remember?”

  “But the Druids in the north have been dormant for a long time. All the Vampires and Werewolves have settled here in this city. Up north there are barely any forces to help us.” Raul didn’t try to hide the frustration in his voice.

  They were deep in conversation, each arguing that it was better to leave, and then arguing why they should stay and fight. Not sure who to call up for help. So engrossed in their argument were they, that they didn’t notice Atlanta come back into the room. Darian glanced over and blinked in surprise.

  She stood with her shoulder pressed against the wall that opened to the passage to the basement. Her hair resting on her left shoulder and her arms were folded. “Everlore,” her voice came, piercing to their ears as she started walking towards them.

  “Everlore? Isn’t that a city far west?” asked Raul in confusion.

  “No, that’s another city. The Everlore I’m talking about is a town about sixty miles north of Calen. Uncle James told me the town had as many settlements of Vampires and Werewolves as Calen did. If Adelaide hasn’t been there first, then we have a good chance of finding people to fight alongside us.”

  “And how can we be sure there’s anyone still there?” Raul glanced at Darian, who could only shrug in response. He didn’t know.

  Atlanta shrugged. “I can’t. But right now, what other option do we have?”

  Darian sighed, looking back and forth between Raul and Atlanta, both watching him—waiting for him to make the final decision.
“It’s worth a shot,” he finally said. “What do you know about the town?”

  “Nothing more than the few things my uncle told me,” Atlanta said. “There’s definitely something mystical about it. How it’s stayed under the radar for so long, no one can really tell. Marcus was fond of referring to it whenever he felt Calen was getting too crowded.”

  Darian frowned. Why do I not know more about this place?

  “His words, not mine,” Atlanta said.

  “Well, we can’t stay here,” Raul cut in. “The longer we do, the more liable we are to be discovered.”

  Darian pondered the plan, closing his eyes as he tried to work out every possible angle and plan for the worst-case scenario. He suddenly nodded and looked at Atlanta. “How do we get there?”

  Atlanta gestured to the secret passage. “The tunnels extend to the outskirts of Calen. From there we can take the highway leading to the forests around Everlore.”

  “If nothing gets in our way,” Raul muttered.

  Darian shot him a warning look. Except he saw Raul’s eyes were darting from corner to corner, his muscles tense, as if ready to react to some unknown danger. Darian had learned early on to trust his friend’s instincts. “Then we go,” Darian said. “Let’s restock and move out.”

  “There’s no time,” Atlanta said.

  He turned towards her and felt his own muscles tense. A glow burned in her eyes, one he’d never seen before. Instinctively he called upon his magic, feeling the flames course through his veins, ready to explode when he willed. Her eyes were burning, almost red. Was she possessed as well? He shifted, setting his feet shoulder-width apart, ready for anything.

  “What is it?” Raul whispered frantically.

  Darian turned to him, but before he could reply Atlanta said, “We have company.”

  The door to the basement burst off its hinges, flying down the staircase and crashing onto the basement floor. A gust of wind burst through the opening, carrying with it a tidal wave of dust. And through the dust, they came.

  There were half a dozen of them, eyes blazing red, storming down the stairs and jumping over the bannister. Vampires and Werewolves alike came for them, teeth bared, hissing.

  How did Raul miss their arrival? Darian was about to let his magic fly when Atlanta suddenly jumped into action, blocking his attack. He stepped back in anger, wheeling to find a new angle. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Raul trying to do the same. But Atlanta was quick, a blur of red between the monsters attacking, her eyes burning almost as red as theirs. Maybe even darker.

  She cut through them with ease, throwing her knives while expertly weaving her sword. They fell around her, growling and screaming, thrashing and squirming. They came for her from all angles, and instead of finding flesh they found her steel. Darian watched with wide eyes as the last of the attackers fell at her feet.

  Atlanta stood panting in the center of the basement, surrounded by the corpses of their attackers, her blade dripping with the blood of the dead.

  Darian briefly turned to Raul, and saw the same look of astonishment on his face.

  Atlanta turned, her eyes downcast, the red glow gone. She pulled her knives out of the dead bodies and sheathed her sword, then made her way to the secret passage. Her shoulder brushed against Darian’s as she walked past him. “Try to keep up,” she said, and disappeared into the darkness of the tunnels beyond.

  Chapter 11

  Everlore

  Under the veil of blue sky there were as many shadows as there was light, as much blur as there was the sharp white of a proud moon. And underneath the misty haze that descended from the skies to the pavement, a window to where she stood watching over the town sat slightly open. The scent of the dew adorned with the fragrance of the willow trees seeped in from the open window and rushed to feed her senses as she inhaled deeply.

  “You are beautiful,” Lenore whispered to the night sky. “Lovely in all your finery.” She stared at the moon and the shadows, and sighed heavily. “It’s a shame the beauty never lasts.”

  She averted her eyes, briefly looking at her slender fingers and the rings that adorned them. She ran her hands across the long robe around her shoulders, the fabric swallowing the light of the moon and reflecting it in silver waves across her body. She turned her head to the side, staring at her complexion in the large mirror beside her, her tall frame encased in the reflective frame as if she were staring at a painting of herself. She allowed herself a small smile, then looked away.

  The walls of the room were reddish-brown, alternating in shades according to how dusty the part of the wall was. And the dustiness of the wall was in accordance with how close it was to a window. It almost seemed like a painting perfected by nature’s way of breathing in an isolated place. Except that it wasn’t isolated; the town hadn’t been empty of breath for centuries, yet the people in it would never step a foot in any direction other than that in which the earth and wind were going.

  There were cracks in the walls that extended to the yellowish ceilings of the room. The moonlight would bathe those crevices at night, and the sun would help them in their path towards decay when morning came. There was a dark green desk on the side of the room, perpendicular to the window she was standing at. The desk had several papers on it that looked as if they had aged for as long as the willow trees outside had. The ink on them was fresh, though, glistening as it dried.

  Lenore was oblivious to the dust and aging of the room as she walked away from the window, the wooden floor creaking with the movement of her feet. She sighed softly as she picked up a small wooden box from the desk. It was black, and when she opened it she stared at the ruby that sat on a small white cushion inside. The stone shimmered across her light grey eyes. She closed her eyes when the stone revealed its light to her, as if she were bathing in its warm glow.

  With the light came memories, images flashing behind her closed lids. A young boy by the beach, smiling and running just inches from the lapping of the waves. A baby girl in a cot, waving her arms, smiling in a way that made the sunlight seem dim in contrast. Flames reaching out with deadly fingers, igniting the world around her. The images came one by one, then coalesced to form a mural in her mind. She felt an involuntary tremor race through her.

  She gently closed the box and put it back in its place, then walked towards the other side of the room. Her cloak was draped behind her and skimmed the dusty wooden floor with each step she took. There were three hard-cover books hanging on the wall, parallel to each other at eye-level. When she reached them, the wind gusted in from a window to her right and pushed the bottom part of her cloak, twirling it around her leg. She gracefully let the cloak be. She moved her head with quiet calmness to gaze out the window at the skies far away. She smiled. It was as if she were assuring the wind that she knew what it was trying to tell her.

  She blew the dust off the books one by one, with soft blows of air that flowed softly out of her small, cold lips. She started with the red book on the far left, then softly moved towards the black one in the middle, and then the grey book on the far right. On each book contained a symbol of a moon during one of its stages on the cover. A crescent moon on the book to the left, a full moon on the black one, and a half moon on the book to the right.

  She freed the black book from its binds and, with slow and calculated movements, opened it. The words on the first page seemed to shine in the dim light, the cursive writings in their foreign language like beautiful sketches, drawn to precision. She’d held this particular book many times, reading and rereading its contents, the lullabies of its hymns and incantations more than familiar to her.

  “My child,” Lenore whispered, her mind drawing up images of a past life, one where Everlore did not exist, and all had seemed right with the world. “How many times did I sing you these words? Would you remember them if I sang them to you again?”

  Tears welled in her eyes, yet she smiled, knowing that time was repaying her for her patience. She flipped through the pa
ges, singing softly to herself, feeling the words of the book take on a life of their own and soar through her body like a warm breeze. She closed the book softly and attached it to its place, running a finger across the cover once more before turning away.

  Lenore’s golden hair fell over her right eye like a curtain to the window of her soul. She had narrow cheek bones adorned with strands of her bright golden hair. The movement of her body was as calm yet unpredictable as the wind crooning outside. And from the quietness that glimmered in her eyes, it could be drawn that the same calmness was guiding the movement of the thoughts in her head.

  She then moved past the books and back to the window she’d originally been standing at. She gazed at the skies overtaken by the piercing dark clouds, then her sight fell on the town she called her kingdom.

  The town of Everlore was relatively small. Compared to the city of Calen, it was the size of the suburbs alongside a couple of neighborhoods. In her eyes, there was nothing but beauty glowing out of the houses in the town. However, the reality was quite different from how her eyes altered them.

  The dim yellow glow of the building lights on the damp sidewalks and cobblestone pavements made for a bright undertone, as if from a distance the depths of hell could be seen shining through the ground. It was a dark and gloomy sight that found its way to her eyes and painted the picture of a forest of bright green and the yellow of the sun. But her eyes were as biased as her mind was. To her, there was nothing but beauty.

  Lenore called herself the queen of Everlore. To its people she wasn’t a tyrant. She was seen as one who sacrificed her autonomy for the good of the people of Everlore. To them it wasn’t her greed that engulfed her eyes, but her benevolence that glimmered through the grey of her irises.

  The town of Everlore was anything but ordinary. The nature of the people of Everlore was what gave the town its mystic sense. Though Lenore was their leader, she was rather seen as the guide of the spiritually weak. If one would observe the people from afar, they would think that Lenore had cast a spell of obedience on them. However, the spells she cast weren’t on them but on the walls of every grey building that stood at every corner of the town. There was no speck of ordinary in the town; it was all engulfed in some form of magic that was nothing like the simple magic known to the people of Calen.