Winter Souls: an Adult Paranormal Witch Romance: Sector 10 (The Othala Witch Collection)

by Angela Fristoe

  “The Underworld does not release its hold lightly. Nobody’s ever come back.”

  “You’ve seen people go in?” Elora asked.

  “I have.”

  “Then you know the way.”

  Juki nodded.

  “Show us,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  “It’s not so simple,” Juki said. “The Underworld contains the darkest elements of Othala. Demons, reapers, human souls disfigured by the fates. It is a haven for evil. When the thirteen Regents divided the land, the Underworld was deemed too dangerous to place in a sector.”

  Mason let out a heavy sigh. “It’s outside the barrier.”

  “It is,” Juki confirmed.

  “How do we get there?”

  “There’s a sigil that will deliver you to the entrance. If you're lucky, there won’t be any ravagers, but luck doesn’t travel with men like you. Getting there, though, is one thing. Then you’ll need to open the gate.” Juki stood and pulled a wooden chest from above the bookshelf that was tucked in the corner. He brought it back and set it on the table. He opened the box and removed a small leather wrapped object. “The only way is with the bones of the innocent.”

  The leather fell away, revealing a tiny human skull. Elora gasped and covered her mouth.

  “Nothing more innocent than a newborn babe.”

  Mason watched the man. There was something about him that didn’t sit right. He flipped from serious to joking in a moment, and from the time Mason had stepped between them he’d barely taken his eyes from her. It was as if he were gauging her reaction, trying to see what she was willing to do, and what it would take to scare her.

  “What do we do with it?” Mason asked.

  “She’ll lay it on the hearth and recite the spell.”

  “Can’t I do that?” Since Juki mentioned the door was in ravager territory, Mason had been questioning whether it was worth the risk to take Elora.

  “You a witch?”

  “No.”

  Juki pointed at Elora. “Then you need her to open the gate.”

  Elora shuddered but reached out her hand to take the skull. She rewrapped the skull and tucked it into the pocket of her parka.

  “Where’s the sigil?” Mason asked.

  “It’s round back, I’ll show you in the morning. Going into ravager territory at night would be suicide.” Juki rubbed his rotund stomach. “Now, take off those coats, and let’s get you something to eat.”

  “Oh, um, we have our food back in the truck,” Elora said, nervously eying the cast iron pot sitting on the stove. It wasn’t quite wide enough to fit a human body unless it was a small one.

  “You ain’t believing Tina’s tales about me being one of the Aklajuks, are you?” Juki laughed, his layer of fat jiggling furiously. “I ain’t heard that one in years.”

  “No, of course not,” she denied. “We just don’t want to impose.”

  Juki waved her concern away. “I don’t get many visitors these days. I’ve got an extra room you can take for the night.”

  “Thanks,” Mason said, not wanting to risk offending the man.

  “Besides, I might not be big on grave robbing anymore, but my brothers still enjoy a hunt and with the pickings slim 'round here, you're better off inside.”

  Elora’s eyes widened so much, Mason found it hard not to laugh. For some reason, Juki was testing Elora, and Mason suspected the man was harmless. There hadn’t been any sign of another person in the area, not for a long time. So if he really had brothers, the chances of them sneaking up and killing them was slim to none.

  When he returned with bowls of thick venison stew, he sat across from them and asked about Tina. Elora pulled herself together and told him about her aunt and how Tina’s life had changed so dramatically since she’d moved to Ironshore. When they’d finished eating, she made a big production of yawning. Juki took the hint and showed them to a room above the bar.

  Mason swung the door behind Juki and turned to see Elora fling herself on the massive bed. She bounced on the plush mattress and, staring up at the ceiling, she let out a low moan.

  The sound went straight to his cock which twitched, reminding him at least sixteen hours had passed since he’d been nestled inside her. He tossed their coats on the bench at the end of the bed and tugged his shirt over his head. Over the last few weeks, he’d learned that she loved watching his muscles as he moved, and even more, she loved sliding her fingers along the lines of his tattoos.

  He laid down beside her and waited for her touch. She took longer than he anticipated, but eventually, her fingers skimmed along his arm and curled around to the center of his chest.

  “Are you scared?” he asked. A strand of her hair lay across her face, and he swept it to the side.

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t need to be.” He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Once the gate is open, you don’t have to go with me inside. You can come back and wait for me here.”

  Elora cupped his face and pulled him down, softly brushing her lips along his. He braced himself on his forearms and deepened the kiss. Her tongue sparred with his. Pain seared along his back as she raked her fingernails down his spine. She twisted her face away, tearing her lips from his, and then shoved against his shoulders.

  He rolled over onto his back, and she stood up. She watched him as she stripped, a slow, teasing process that left his cock pressing painfully against his zipper. When she wore only her panties, she stopped and slid her hands along her sides and under her breasts, lifting them. His mouth watered at the lush pink nipples that pouted, begging him to suckle them.

  “Holy fuck, you're killing me,” he said and jumped off the bed to shed his remaining clothes. Not until he was naked did he notice the frozen look on Elora’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I ...” Her voice hitched on a sob, and she sank onto the bed, huddling into the fetal position.

  He stared at her shaking form and wondered what the fuck had just happened? Then it hit him. She honestly thought he was going to die getting to the Underworld, and she was blaming herself. His mind raced, trying to find a moment in time when he’d had to deal with a sobbing woman, tried to remember what to do or say to make things right. Yet this was something he’d never faced.

  He could tell her he’d be fine, that there was nothing to worry about, but it would be a lie, and she didn’t need that.

  Giving up, he scooped her up and held her in his lap and let her cry. He kissed her hair, and when she sniffled, he grabbed a tissue from the bedside table for her. When her tears dried up, he rolled them into the middle of the bed and folded her in his arms.

  17

  Elora double checked the charge on her bolt then looped the strap over her head and shoulder. Along with her aura spear and knife, she felt unprepared compared to Mason. He was determined to take as many weapons possible without becoming too encumbered. His ax, knives, and three bolts. She considered taking another bolt, but anything more meant she wouldn’t be able to move enough to use any of them.

  “You're a strong woman,” Juki said as he joined her at the bar. “I see a lot of Tina in you.”

  She accepted the mug of spiced rum he offered and took a long swig before resting on the bar top.

  “I’m not. A strong woman would be able to accept Mason as he is. I’m weak enough to want the real him back.”

  “You're wrong. A weak woman would be content to sit by idly and watch the destruction of another. It takes strength and courage to possess a willingness to die for them.”

  “Is that where this leads?” she asked. “To death?”

  “Only those with a soul can enter the Underworld,” Juki said, staring at her. “If you go in, a reaper will take your soul.”

  “So I can’t go with him?”

  “No. And he can’t come back without you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Juki settled his hulking form on a stool and put his eyes level with hers as say stood ac
ross from him.

  “I’ve sent dozens of people to the gates, and of those who go in, none have lived. Do you know why?”

  She shook her head.

  “Because the witch who gives them access must also stay to pull them out. When Mason is in the Underworld, you will be alone at the door.”

  Fear rippled through Elora. She had felt the fear of being alone in the interior where the most dangerous things were man and the weather. Being alone in ravage your territory ... there was little chance she would survive.

  She looked out the window at Mason. He was sharpening the blade of his ax on the whetstone. He pulled it back and swung a looping circle at his side, then taking three long strides forward, he spun around, striking a tree, embedding the ax deeply into the trunk. He yanked it out and inspected the blade before going back to the whetstone. He’d been preparing like that all morning.

  “Is that why you didn’t want to help us at first? You didn’t think I would live to pull him out?”

  Juki laughed. “I must admit, a wee one like you will have a difficult time with the ravagers, but I’m not convinced you’ll die.”

  “Then what changed your mind?”

  “Soulless men and the witches accompanying them come in two types. There are the men who get down to the Underworld and forget about coming back, leaving the witches who wait to die. The others are the men who wait for the gate to open, but the witch has left them behind.”

  “Which do you think we are?”

  “Neither, and that’s what changed my mind. That you are here, by will and not force, tells me you won’t abandon him down there.”

  “What makes you think Mason won’t forget to come back?”

  “Souls imprint themselves on our minds and bones. That’s why dark witches use bones in many of their spells.” He tugged on his long beard that was gathered with a string just below his chin. “Some souls leave a deeper mark. Mason works on instinct and logic, yet the imprint of his soul still guides him. He’ll come back to you.”

  The concept made sense. She’d seen Mason make decisions that were incongruent with what someone without a soul would do. It was what had given her the foolish idea that she could let him stay as he was.

  “Why didn’t you tell us this last night?”

  “Because he wouldn’t agree to go, and he’s better off dead than living with no soul.”

  She gave him a determined smile, and the two of them walked outside. Elora tucked the wispy strands of hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear.

  “Ready?” Mason asked when they joined him at the back of the building.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “You have your knife? A reload of charges for the bolt?” It almost sounded like concern.

  “Yes.”

  Juki grabbed a shovel and cleared a small area to reveal a patch of cement with a painted circle about three feet wide. Inside the circle was a sigil identical to the one on the side of the building. It was a large W divided down the middle with a long upside down T and two triangles above it.

  “Leave your coats here,” he said. “It’ll be warmer where you're going, and if you end up in the water, they’ll only drag you down.”

  He finished shoveling and used his knife to make small nicks on Elora and Mason’s arms, giving him just enough blood to cover the tip of the blade. He motioned them to step inside.

  “The skull and the spell?” Mason asked.

  “They're in my pocket,” she assured him.

  “The portal will get you within a mile of the entrance. The return sigil is at the foot of the gate,” Juki explained. “When I send you through, you need to keep physical contact with each other, else there’s no guarantee you’ll end up in the same location.”

  Within the circle, they waited for Juki to send them into ravager territory. She gazed up at Mason, searching his expression. There was no trepidation, no exhilaration—nothing. Her resolve hardened. This was the right decision. She’d known it all along. Mason deserved a life that consisted of more than moving from one event to another.

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. His strong embrace was comforting, and Elora sighed deeply, savoring the moment.

  “Safe passage,” Juki said with a grim look, then he took his knife and stabbed it into the sigil.

  Air rushed around them, and strands of Elora’s hair whipped across her face. There was a brilliant explosion of light and then blue billowing smoke showered them with a cascade of sparkling particles.

  Elora gazed through the blue mist, and as the burst of dimensional vapor settled into a gentle flow, she began to make out figures in the distance, moving through the vast space. Some of them strode purposefully forward, while others wandered aimlessly. A young girl passed by them, no more than five or six, calling for her mother. Elora reached out to her, wanting to help, but Mason pulled her back.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” he said.

  “She’s a child ...”

  “She was. Now she is just one of the lost. There is no escape for her. She’s been here for years.”

  “But she’s so young.”

  “Between the dimensions, time holds no power. To her, it’s been minutes, to the world, decades.” He threaded his fingers through hers and tugged her forward. “This way.”

  As they made their way along a brightly-lit path, Elora struggled to ignore the calls of the lost. Her heart ached at their helpless cries, desperate to find their destination.

  “Has a lost one ever made it out?”

  Mason shrugged. “None I’ve ever heard of.”

  The path before them dimmed, and they began running, unwilling to give themselves to the fog. They reached their exit portal and stepped in the circle, clinging tightly to each other.

  The path vanished and there was a roaring sound as the portal opened and sucked them through. Elora’s ears popped, and she tried to cover them, but Mason still held her hand.

  “Don’t let go,” he shouted.

  The whirlwind abruptly ended and traces of blue particles drifted to the ground. Elora glanced around at the walls of red cliffs surrounding them. They were in a canyon, maybe thirty feet down, at the edge of a rapidly-running stream.

  Juki’s instructions had been clear. Head upstream through the canyon until it narrowed to only a few feet wide. Pass between the death rocks and into the opening. The gate would be at the end. Other than his assurance that they were no more than a mile from the gate, they had no idea how far it was.

  Mason let go of her hand, and with a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet, he removed a bolt and held it loosely at his side. He inclined his head, and she followed along the red rock. Her eyes scanned the cliffs surrounding them. The lack of ravagers did little to reassure her. Rather, it heightened her anxiety and strained her senses as she struggled to hear anything above the water.

  She stepped on a loose rock and fell forward, catching herself against Mason’s back. The rock slid across the slick surface and dropped a foot into the water. It was barely discernible over the sound of the stream, but there was an answering shriek of a ravager, echoing through the canyon.

  They froze, waiting for the creature to show itself, but nothing moved, and they continued on. The canyon narrowed and the dry rock along the sides disappeared, forcing them into the water.

  The icy water came to Elora’s waist, and she found herself half swimming to keep up with Mason. They neared a bend and pressed themselves against the jagged canyon wall, inching their way forward. Mason peeked around the bend then jerked back. He held up seven fingers. She swallowed tightly. Taking on a single ravager was one thing—at this distance, seven would rip them apart before they could scream.

  She pointed down and made a swimming motion, and he nodded in understanding. The swimming beneath the surface of the water would conceal their body heat and smell, and as long as they were careful, it would be silent as well. The risk was that when they passed the ravagers there could be more waiting
.

  Mason went in first, and she counted to thirty, listening for any indication that he’d met more on the other end. When nothing came, she took a deep breath and submerged herself.

  She swam past the ravagers, her chest aching for air. She’d never been good at holding her breath, panicking anytime there was even a remote possibility that she might not be able to keep an adequate level of oxygen coursing through her.

  Mason’s legs came into view, and she pushed on. Reaching him, she forced herself to rise slowly and avoid a waterfall effect as droplets fell off her. They walked out of the water. She considered using the drying spell she’d made after falling from the ice bridge, but there was no way to guarantee the pain of it wouldn’t cause them to cry out.

  Only a few feet away was the narrowing Juki must have been talking about. She wondered how he would have ever been able to see the other side.

  Mason took off his bolts and handed them to her. She turned her back to the wall beside the opening, on the watch for ravagers. She waited a minute for him to work his way through then peeked in. He was there, gesturing for her to come. She gripped a bolt by the handle and poked it through. He took it, and she followed with his other two and hers. With the aura spear clutched to her chest, she inched her way through.

  It was a large open canyon with sides that traveled nearly two hundred feet vertically. There’d be no climbing out if the sigil didn’t work. The stream turned sharply to the left, and at the opposite end, there was a freestanding archway. That had to be it.

  “It’s clear,” he whispered. She nodded, and they quickly moved toward it.

  Standing before it, she could see the thick magical grating that sealed it. Unable to see the magic ward, Mason stretched out his hand, intent on trying to simply enter, but she grabbed his hand in time.

  She knelt before the arch and pulled her knife from its sheath. She cut her arm and then wiped at the blood with her fingers. She used the blood to draw a pentagram on the rock. Ravager screams filled the canyon and beside her, Mason shouldered one of his bolts.