Everwylde

by Donna Grant

  She ground her teeth together. “Aye.”

  He tapped a finger on his chin, his face crinkling in thought. “I have been giving that some consideration. The way I see it, you witches want to kill off everyone once you acquire this,” he said, pointing to the staff. “It seems that, in order to give others a fair chance, this should stay out of your hands.”

  “That kind of talk is foolish,” Matilda said, her amber eyes narrowing on Carac. “We have immense power.”

  “Yet none of you can enter here to get the staff. Which,” he said, accentuating the word, “means that it should remain out of your control at all costs.”

  Angmar held out her hand to Carac. “I give you my word that you and your men will not be harmed. If you give me the staff.”

  Sybbyl glanced at the three prisoners. Randall was still on his back, and Simon and Margery were on their knees. Their heads were turned toward Carac, but he paid them little mind.

  Carac tilted his head slightly and grinned. “Being nice after your counterparts threatened me... That might work on others, but not me. You see, I have used that tactic before. The problem is, I heard no sincerity in your voice.”

  “Oh, I like you,” Angmar said with a smile, her arm dropping to her side.

  Carac winked at her.

  “Where is Ravyn?” Sybbyl demanded.

  Carac’s smile vanished when he looked her way. “How should I know?”

  “She went in after you,” Sybbyl snapped.

  Frustration and irritation were rapidly taking hold of her. After all her careful planning. Sybbyl would be satisfied with nothing less than a seat on the council. She would be an elder.

  Carac shook his head. “I have not seen Ravyn. Then again, it’s dark in there.”

  “I do not believe you,” Sybbyl said.

  He smiled brightly. “I do not give a shite what you believe, you murderous, evil witch.”

  Carac bent and picked up a torch. As he straightened, it flared to life. He then touched it to the staff and tossed it into the chamber. Sybbyl, Matilda, and Angmar immediately used their magic to put out the fire.

  “That was foolish,” Sybbyl said and looked at Carac.

  Only to find him holding another staff.

  “Oh, did I mention that one was not the Staff of the Eternal?” he asked. “My apologies.”

  Angmar wasn’t smiling when she faced him. “I am no longer amused. What do you want?”

  “I want you all to die and rot in Hell,” he stated.

  Matilda took several steps toward him. “I am going to enjoy killing you.”

  Carac merely smiled and set the staff on fire. Once more, he tossed it into the chamber, and four more quickly followed. There was a brief pause when the witches were putting out the last of the flames before another five burning staffs landed on the pile.

  “What are you doing?” Sybbyl said and focused her magic again.

  Carac laughed from within the safety of the arch. “One of those is the Staff of the Eternal.”

  It took several more minutes before the fires were contained. When Sybbyl and the elders turned to Carac, he was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

  “Do you believe that fire can destroy the staff?” Sybbyl asked him.

  He shrugged. “You tell me.”

  “It cannot,” Angmar said.

  His lips twisted. “Bloody hell. I really thought burning them would work.”

  Matilda rolled her eyes. “Hardly. And I will make you pay in blood and pain for what you have done this day.”

  Sybbyl touched each of the staffs and tried to use it, but nothing happened. Matilda and Angmar did the same.

  “Which one is it?” Sybbyl demanded.

  Carac shrugged. “Why would I tell you? Should you not be able to pick it out yourself?”

  “Tell us!” Matilda shouted. Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed at him with a long blood red nail. “Or I will peel the skin from your bones.”

  Chapter 30

  Her hand was steady, her focus locked on Sybbyl as Ravyn aimed her crossbow from the comfort of the darkness. She hated that she only had two arrows left. One would find its way to Sybbyl’s heart. Of that, Ravyn was certain. If it were the only thing she did that day, she would take the life of a witch.

  She glanced at Carac as he shrugged indifferently at the wrath of an elder. Ravyn had listened intently to Leoma’s and Braith’s descriptions of the two remaining elders. She knew that the red-haired one with the long nails was Matilda. The leader, and the one with the black hair and the burns on one side of her face was Angmar.

  Based on the little bit of conversation Ravyn had heard as she was taking her position, the two elders had yet to add any others to the council. And Sybbyl wanted one of the spots.

  Ravyn couldn’t wait to pull the trigger on the crossbow. So long ago, Sybbyl had shattered Ravyn’s idyllic life in one night. Now, Ravyn had a chance to return the favor. After so long, justice would finally be served.

  The witches were agitated. And that pleased Ravyn. For just a moment, she slid her gaze to the three being held prisoner. It warmed Ravyn’s heart to see that Margery was still alive, and Ravyn knew Carac was glad to know that Simon was okay, as well.

  Margery had done well in her fight with Sybbyl. The witch had sustained several cuts that might not be deep enough to kill her, but Ravyn knew she probably wasn’t feeling so well. It was evident in how Sybbyl swayed from side to side.

  It was all right, though. Soon, the witch would feel nothing but the fires of Hell.

  Ravyn frowned. While Simon and Margery kept their eyes on the witches, they hadn’t moved. But Randall had. It was barely discernable, and Ravyn might have missed it had she not seen his leg shift slightly.

  She didn’t know what he was up to, but she would be ready for whatever came. After everything Randall had endured at Sybbyl’s hands, he deserved his revenge, as well.

  Ravyn returned her gaze to Sybbyl, but her attention was on everyone in the chamber. The staffs had been burnt as per the plan. Now, it was time to see if Rossamond held up her end of things. Ravyn had her doubts, but she really hoped she was wrong.

  In all of her training and her encounters with witches, not once had Ravyn been so calm. Without a doubt, she was in the right place at the right time.

  Not even the knowledge that she would most likely die that day diminished the importance of the situation. Death was part of being a Hunter. Because to track witches, you courted death. It was a partnership Ravyn freely—and readily—embraced.

  For her, there was no other option. The Coven was evil at its core. The fact that they believed their actions were done for the good of witches only made them more heinous. For how could anyone make those in the Coven understand that what they were doing was wrong?

  A chill overtook Ravyn, the only warning she had that the spirit was making itself known. Unable to help herself, Ravyn turned her head to Carac.

  Before he walked to the arch and made himself known, he’d kissed her with all the passion and longing of a thousand nights. It had left her breathless and craving so much more.

  But it was the words he whispered in her ear that brought her the most joy.

  “I love you.”

  Ravyn held his declaration in her heart. She had been so shocked and overwhelmed and deliriously happy to hear his confession that she hadn’t had time to say anything in return before he walked away. That would change as soon as she had the chance. There was so much she wanted to say to him. The first of which was that she returned his love.

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes when she thought about the life she and Carac could have, whether it was hunting witches or returning to his castle. An entire lifetime played out in her mind as he spoke to the elders and burned the staffs—a lifetime that would likely never happen now.

  But they’d lived gloriously and loved hard in her dream.

  He was the man she would have chosen above all others if she’d met him ten years
before—or fifty years from now. He was the only one who had been able to touch her soul and claim her heart.

  Carac, with his calm intensity and unwavering strength, his quiet authority and undeniable command. She knew he’d been born for her, and she for him. They were two sides of the same coin, and she couldn’t believe that they had found each other.

  There was no man on the Earth who could equal Carac. And together, they could be unstoppable. First, however, they had to get past Sybbyl and the elders.

  Ravyn watched as Carac took a small step back, letting the darkness begin to surround him. He slowly lifted the leg closest to the wall and pulled her last arrow from his boot. She sent up a prayer that both of her arrows would find their marks.

  With a deep breath, she once more put Sybbyl in her sights just as the ghost made herself visible, standing beneath the arch. Sybbyl took a half step back in surprise, but if Angmar and Matilda were shocked to see a specter, they hid it well.

  “Leave,” Rossamond told them.

  Matilda looked askance at the ghost. “Why would we listen to you? What can you do to us?”

  Suddenly, the heads of the three dead knights appeared in the spirit’s hands. She tossed them toward the witches. “No one gets past me.”

  “But you allowed Carac to pass,” Angmar stated.

  Rossamond turned her head slightly in order to look at Angmar. “He was...compelling.”

  “We can be, as well,” Sybbyl said.

  The spirit gave a bark of laughter. “I doubt it.”

  Angmar walked a few paces closer to the arch. She pointed at the carvings. “It took someone with magic to spell this.”

  The ghost merely smiled in answer.

  “That is what I thought,” Angmar said. “If I cannot walk beneath the arch, then I will come from above.”

  “There is no need,” the spirit replied. “What you seek is in that pile.”

  Matilda kicked at the scorched wood. “That is not possible. The Staff of the Eternal would not lose its potency with fire.”

  “Are you sure it was only fire?” Rossamond asked.

  Ravyn had to hand it to the ghost, she was turning their questions in a way that made even Ravyn wonder what she knew.

  Sybbyl shook her head as she strode to stand even with Angmar and stare at the spirit. “A bone of the First Witch is in the staff. Nothing can destroy it.”

  Ravyn shivered when the ghost turned her head to Sybbyl and stared at her for a long, silent moment.

  Then Rossamond said, “You talk to me as if I do not know of the First Witch. I have been guarding this place for hundreds of years. My family was charged with keeping the staff out of the hands of anyone who sought it, but most especially, the Coven. I know more about the First Witch than you ever will. Just as I know that she put a spell on herself that if someone burned a bone to keep it from being used for evil, then the magic would leave.”

  “You lie,” Matilda declared, looking at the ghost with contempt.

  Angmar raised a hand to halt Matilda from saying more. Angmar’s head cocked to the side as she studied the specter. “If what you say is true, why did your family not burn the staff long ago when the Coven first came for it.”

  “We thought we could keep it hidden,” the ghost replied. “You have given me no choice.”

  Angmar was silent as she shifted to the side and looked at the pile of staves. “Why all the other staffs?”

  “Ask him,” the spirit said and motioned to Carac.

  As Ravyn returned her gaze to Sybbyl, she was taken aback to find that she could no longer find Randall. Ravyn’s attention then moved to Margery and Simon to see that they had shifted closer together while Margery slowly inched forward to get to her sword.

  All hell was about to break loose. The tension within the chamber thickened with every heartbeat. The witches were suspicious and ready for blood. And Ravyn was set for vengeance.

  Carac clasped his hands behind his back as he once more moved into the light. “The various staffs were put within the tunnel to throw off anyone searching for the Staff of the Eternal. They were scattered throughout, and if one did not know what the relic looked like, then they could easily take the wrong one.”

  Sybbyl wasn’t going to give up that easily, however. “Where is the other Hunter? The woman?”

  Ravyn’s finger tightened slightly on the trigger of her crossbow. How she wanted to pull it, but it wasn’t time yet. Just a few more moments.

  “Dead,” came the reply from Rossamond.

  Sybbyl glanced at the three heads on the floor. “Where is hers? I want to see it.”

  “She has a point,” Matilda said.

  A smile pulled at Ravyn’s lips as the ghost glowed brighter. She glanced at the specter, and the beautiful ghost she had spoken with was gone. In its place was a replica of the skeleton she’d found in the tunnel, complete with missing chunks of hair, torn clothing, and no skin.

  The spirit let out a scream that made Ravyn’s eardrums throb in agony. The shriek was so loud and long that it had everyone holding their ears—including the witches.

  Ravyn tried to keep her gaze on Sybbyl. She wanted to rejoice at their suffering, but she couldn’t when she, too, felt the pain.

  Something brushed against her. Ravyn glanced up to see the ghost right before she burst from the arch and into the chamber. The specter went by all three of the witches, scratching them in various places.

  Ravyn tried to ignore the screaming and lined up her shot again. She steadied her hands. In the next moment, the shrieking halted, and she fired the crossbow directly at Sybbyl’s heart.

  The arrow flew through the air straight and true. Then, suddenly, Sybbyl grabbed Matilda and yanked the witch in front of her right before the arrow pierced the elder’s heart.

  Rage boiled within Ravyn. That arrow had been meant for Sybbyl. She had been denied her retribution. Ravyn retrieved her dagger from her boot and straightened at the same time Margery grabbed her sword and jumped to her feet.

  Sybbyl pushed Matilda, who was already turning to ash, aside and bellowed, “Ravyn!”

  For a heartbeat, Ravyn took in the scene as Rossamond, Simon, and Margery battled Sybbyl and Angmar. Her head turned, and she looked for Carac, but he was already rushing from the tunnel.

  Ravyn followed him out and headed directly to Sybbyl. The witch whirled around as if sensing Ravyn’s approach. Flames came at her, but Ravyn jumped, wrapping her arms around her legs as she tucked her body and flipped over Sybbyl’s head.

  When she landed, Ravyn turned and jabbed her dagger toward Sybbyl’s back, only...the witch now faced her.

  Sybbyl wrapped a hand around Ravyn’s wrist as she smiled. “You cannot win against me.”

  “We shall see.” Ravyn then jerked the arm that Sybbyl held upward and spun. She lowered her front half so that her back foot came up and connected with the witch’s jaw.

  The strike was hard enough to cause Sybbyl to loosen her grip and stumble backward. Sybbyl rubbed her cheek and glowered. “Lucky hit.”

  Ravyn flipped the dagger end over end, grabbing it by the hilt. “Shall we try again?”

  Sybbyl took a step toward her. Then everyone’s attention turned to the doorway as Randall rushed into the chamber and ran straight for Sybbyl. He leapt over rocks and dead knights, his eyes locked on his target.

  It all happened in slow motion for Ravyn. Her head swung back to Sybbyl just as Angmar wrapped an arm around the witch. Mist billowed up from the floor suddenly and swirled around them.

  When it finally cleared, the witches were gone.

  As was the ghost.

  Chapter 31

  “Is it over?” Simon asked after John had scrambled from the chamber, tripping over his feet in his haste.

  Carac looked around until his gaze landed on Ravyn. Without another word, he strode to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Are you injured?”

  “Nay,” she said tightly. Ravyn sighed and glanced away. “I did not get to k
ill her.”

  “There will be another day. And I will hunt her down with you.”

  At Ravyn’s smile, the tightness around Carac’s heart lifted. “Is that a promise?” she asked.

  He nodded. “It is. The victory is ours,” he told the others. “We are alive, the Coven is gone, and the staff is secure.”

  Randall’s lips curled into a sneer. “Do you really believe that? The Coven will be back with more witches.”

  “Did you not hear the spirit?” Simon asked Randall. “The staff is no more.”

  Randall snorted. “You believe that because you know little of the First Witch, but I know the truth.”

  “It does not matter,” Ravyn said. “We convinced the Coven.”

  But Randall didn’t seem to hear them. “I was unprepared this time. I will not be again,” he mumbled to himself as he left the chamber.

  Margery was holding her left arm against her, her face white with pain. “Now what?”

  “We see to your injury,” Carac said. Then he noted the blood dripping from Simon’s fingers. “And Simon’s.”

  Ravyn went to Margery and put her arm around her. “I am ready to leave this place.”

  As the women left the chamber, Carac remained behind as Simon walked to the doorway before stopping and looking back at him.

  “Go on,” Carac urged.

  Simon shook his head, laughing softly. “I know you better than that. Why do you stay?”

  “The spirit intends to kill me.”

  “And you want to wait around for her to do it?” Simon asked with a frown.

  Carac looked out the door. What he wanted to do was rush after Ravyn and take her hand, never looking back. He wanted to think of the future and all that could be theirs. “Nay.”

  “Then come on,” Simon urged. “There is no one here.”

  Carac nodded in agreement and started toward the doorway. Simon continued on, but when Carac reached the door, a blast of cold air hit him from behind.

  He halted and took a deep breath. Then he turned to face the specter. Rossamond waited beneath the arch, her appearance once more that of a beautiful woman. He swallowed, unsure what to think.