A Witch's Rite (Witch's Path Series: Book 5)

by N. E. Conneely

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ned

  It was sheer luck that Hayato hadn’t called yet. If he knew how badly I’d been shaken by what we’d done… Well, someone would be here overseeing my every move. Since I didn’t want that, I needed to make up for lost time.

  While I’d found a good location for the snails, it wouldn’t be easy to relocate them. When I’d started the colony in the stream, the snails had been babies. Now there were hundreds of fully grown snails. That was too many for me to haul through the woods alone. I needed centaurs.

  If I could contact the centaurs directly, it would be a simple matter, but they were represented by the witches. To get the witches to contract the work on my behalf would require payment, and there was only one thing they wanted. Snail powder.

  After writing a letter that outlined my needs, I picked up a one-pound bag of powder. This and one other equally sized bag was the last of what was easy to reach. Most of my stock was in a giant container under the building. If the witches had done their job properly, it was safe from outside influence, but that couldn’t be said for these bags.

  In the back of a cabinet, I found a very special container. It looked like a plastic bin but had cost me a pretty penny, but it had been worth every cent to purchase this from a more reliable source than the witches Hayato trusted. This container was certified against magical attacks and tampering. In theory, an entire clan could try to get into this thing and fail. Setting one of the two bags in the container, I hoped I wouldn’t need that much protection. But with the witch around, I wanted to be sure I was never without my own magic.

  My emergency stash safe, I stuffed the remaining bag of powder and the note into my backpack. I needed to get those to the drop point so I could get the help I needed to relocate my precious snails.

  Before I could make that trip, there was something else I needed to attend to. Hayato wanted the witch—well, all of them—dead. Sending a nervous glance at the back room where the body was lying, I sat down at my desk. Next time Hayato talked to me, he would want a progress report, and I had no intention of disappointing him.

  Picking up a long, slender rod of iron with a flat, decorative tip, I smiled. This should take care of the witch and the rest of her group. I whispered my instructions, including one that would trigger later, and felt the metal warm. Satisfied with that, I returned it to the shelf. It was always good to keep the better weapons in reserve. My only regret was that I wouldn’t be able to watch the entire situation unfold.

  The scrying bowl clouded over and cleared, showing Hayato.

  I took a steadying breath. “How may I help you?”

  Hayato frowned. “Simply do as I’ve instructed.”

  “As you wish.”

  He nodded sharply. “It will take me a day or so, but I’ll be joining you shortly. As I said before, keep all the bodies. I need to examine them when I arrive.”

  “Of course.” I kept my face devoid of any emotion. He didn’t need to know how little I liked being around dead people. “Do I need to make any special preparations for your arrival?”

  “No.”

  I bowed my head.

  “Ned?”

  I glanced up, and flame-filled eyes held my own. “Do not fail me.”

  His picture faded away, leaving me with nothing but a bowl of water.

  Hopefully that wasn’t a warning. He didn’t need to know that I’d been giving him diluted powder or that I had been slow to follow his orders regarding the witch. My eyes slid to the motionless form on the cot. I had no desire to end up like him.

  I reminded myself of what I needed to do. A walk through the woods to drop my request off with the witches, a quick check to ensure my plans for the witch were going as desired, then to bed. After all, tomorrow would be busy what with relocating the snails, finishing off any of the police that remained, and Hayato’s arrival.

  Picking up my pack, I checked the note and powder before pulling on a headlamp. As much as I wanted to watch what was going on in the maze, I had work to do. Giving the metal rod one last look, I felt satisfied with what I’d accomplished. At least one of my guests would have a fascinating evening while I slept.

  I smiled as I walked into the night. I couldn’t wait to see the results in the morning.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Michelle

  I can’t say I slept well, but I drifted in and out. Something, I was never sure exactly what, awakened me. Summoning my wand, I looked around, but there was nothing there, or nothing that I could see. When I glanced up, I could see a few stars, and they reassured me that whatever else had happened, I wasn’t that far from home.

  For a while I kept looking around, trying to figure out what had awakened me, but it didn’t do any good. Finally I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. As I drifted off, I heard wood snap. My eyes sprang open, but it was too late. Something had picked me up right off the ground and was carrying me away.

  “What the— Put me down!” I shrieked.

  Whoever—whatever—had picked me up and was carrying me through the maze didn’t bother to respond. Like that was new.

  I tried a stun spell on my abductor, but it didn’t do any good. It was like the creature just fed the magic right into the ground. And I was fairly sure it was a creature. From what I could tell, it walked upright and I was tossed over its shoulder. It had an odd odor, one that reminded me of the cow farm I’d visited a couple of weeks ago. Under my hands I could feel fur, and the way muscles moved under it indicated that the fur was attached to the creature.

  With that spell’s failure, I tried to shrink the creature, set it on fire, or really anything. None of the spells I cast on the monster were doing what they were designed to do, so I came up with a new plan. I would cast a spell on something else, and the effect would work on the monster. That had a better chance of success.

  Since I couldn’t get my wand to point the correct direction, I dismissed it. Closing my eyes, I pictured the path in front of the creature. “Orzu.”

  A moment later I felt my abductor’s feet sink into the soft ground. I pictured the same patch of earth. “Fehu.”

  We swayed as my abductor’s feet were captured by the earth. Then I felt the creature jerk one foot free, followed by the next. With that, my captor continued on its way.

  I didn’t even bother to swear. That had been the one brilliant idea my sleep-deprived brain could produce. Before we got out of range, I probed the spells I’d used to temporarily hamper my abductor’s progress. The mess of spell residue could be from two causes. Either the broken ground had destroyed the spell or the destruction of the spell had allowed the ground to move. While I couldn’t be sure, I thought the creature had broken the magic on the ground.

  That theory fit the data at hand and complicated future escape methods since any creature who could destroy magic like that wouldn’t be held by typical means. Some people might think that an ability like what this creature had demonstrated would narrow down the list of possibilities, but there was a plethora of species with different types of magic resistance. While many of them didn’t come close to matching the height and strength requirements to be this creature, there were plenty that did. If I knew what species was carrying me away, I might be able to find a spell that would work, but without more information it was a waste of energy.

  Since magic hadn’t done anything, I went back to a more mundane method of gathering information. “Can you put me down so we can talk?”

  Nothing.

  “My name is Michelle.”

  Still nothing.

  “Why are you doing this? Where are you taking me?”

  Seconds ticked by as I waited for an answer that I doubted I was going to get. After a while I gave up and simply hung on for the ride. As my captor carried me through the night, I really, really hoped it was friendly. Though, considering where I was, the odds were pretty good that it was on Team Ned. Lucky me.

  Time seemed to pass far more slowly than i
t should. It felt as if I’d been over this creature’s shoulder for more than an hour, but I suspected the truth was closer to ten adrenaline-filled minutes. I never ceased to be amazed by adrenaline’s ability to slow down time.

  I felt a static electricity discharge against my chest a fraction of a second before I heard a soft chatter above my head. It was too dark for me to see whatever had made the sound, so after quickly debating the risk, I created a witch light high in the air. There it was, a small flying squirrel clinging to, as far as my eyes could tell, absolutely nothing.

  Glancing at my captor assured me that the creature was unconcerned, but the shape of the head and dark fur convinced me that I should give it a closer examination when I was finished with the squirrel.

  Returning my attention to the rodent that looked to be levitating, I shifted the witch light around. I had to figure this out quickly because my captor was carrying me away. Moving the light confirmed that my eyes couldn’t see whatever the flying squirrel was holding on to. That was strange. It chattered again and darted to the side.

  Cocking my head, I contemplated what my eyes were seeing. The squirrel was running around in the air as if it was clambering around on a tree. With its movements, I could visualize the diameter of the trunk. The squirrel sprang off the tree, gliding through the air. I followed it with the light, and it landed on another invisible something. The next leap took it out of range of the light.

  I brought the light back to me and considered what I’d learned. There were a few possible explanations, like the squirrel being magical, but with the other oddities in the place, I didn’t think that was the answer. With what I’d seen, there was only one explanation that made sense. The maze was more than physical. Part of it was in our minds. The squirrel hadn’t been affected by the magic that had sent me here, so he was able to see the trees that were hidden from me.

  That theory also explained why I couldn’t find any magic on myself, my surroundings, or the rest of the group. If the spell was working on my mind, it could actively block me from recognizing magic. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been able to fight off that type of influence when it was first cast. However, I’d been severely disoriented or unconscious when all this was done to me, giving the spells time to sink in and do their work.

  I groaned. It was so simple. I should’ve seen it before. The spell explained why I couldn’t talk to Elron—it worked on the mind to block communication. I was betting it allowed me to communicate with people I could see. Though that didn’t explain why Wells could hear me but Elron couldn’t. The important point was the spell was on our minds; that’s why we couldn’t escape the maze. To get out we would have to break the mental and physical barrier. That wouldn’t be easy to do, especially when I didn’t have any idea what had gone into the original spell.

  The more I thought about it, the worse it got. Odds were I’d actually blasted a hole in the rhododendron bushes, but it hadn’t done any good because my mind was tricked into believing that I was trapped. In fact, most of the maze itself was likely a construct of my mind.

  Closing my eyes, I cursed myself for being so dense. I should’ve seen this earlier. How else could Ned have created such a large maze, kept us separated, and made it basically impossible to escape? Well, there was nothing I could do about it now. Any spells I would use to undo what Ned had done to me would have to wait until I was away from the creature.

  My eyes popped open. The creature. I needed to examine it before I did something to the light. With the way it had gotten rid of my other spells, I didn’t think this one would last long.

  I pulled the light closer to me but kept it far enough away from the creature that it shouldn’t be bothered. When the soft halo of light illuminated the creature, any hope I had of escape was squished.

  The loincloth left little to the imagination. From this direction I couldn’t be sure, but I strongly suspected my abductor was male. I had a clear view of his back and legs, which had a strong resemblance to the hind legs of a bovine, including dark fur. The light just barely reached the ground, but I didn’t need to see it clearly to know that my captor was much larger than I’d suspected. In fact, had I been willing to make a brighter light, I would’ve been able to see over the hedges.

  Bringing the light up higher, I hoped that the view of his head would bring good news—after all, I’d only had a glimpse of it earlier. There was still a chance this could be a nice, helpful creature.

  As usual, luck was not with me. The light revealed floppy bovine ears, a set of horns, and the blocky head of a bull. A minotaur. Of course. What maze would be complete without a minotaur?

  Not only were minotaurs the traditional monster inside a maze, but they were immune to most magic. As if that wasn’t enough good news, the males had an unhealthy obsession with female humanoids. I killed the witch light, afraid that if I kept looking around I’d find more good news.

  Apparently Ned didn’t think I’d suffered enough between knowing that Gudger’s life depended on us, being trapped in this miserable place, being separated from Elron and the officers, falling off a cliff, or being hunted by a tractor. Nope, I needed to be abducted by a minotaur too. This day kept getting better.

  I spent the next few minutes trying to figure out a way to escape that wasn’t going to get me killed. Before I could come up with anything good, the quality of the air changed and the stars vanished. Twisting, I could see some type of a light in the distance, and I got enough of a sense of the area to figure out we were in a cave. If the minotaur had hauled me back to his home, it was even less likely that I would be able to escape anytime soon.

  We moved closer to the light at a steady pace, giving my eyes plenty of time to adjust. I had to admit the decor wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be. Sure, it was a cave, but one corner had a tidy bed. There was a large, clean table with two chairs pressed against the wall. A few feet down there were shelves with dishes neatly stacked. I silently prayed that was a sign my captor would be open to a nice, friendly dialogue about my future.

  He swung me off his shoulder and set me on a human-sized bed. I started to scramble back, but he grabbed my leg in one big hand, and that was the end of that. He quickly snapped a shackle to my ankle. He pulled a long loop of twine holding a key off a hook high up on the wall, locked the shackle, and walked away.

  As he moved across the cave, he dropped the loop holding the key over his head. I bit my lip to stop myself from swearing. There was no way I was going to be able to magic that key off him. Since it was touching his body, his passive ability to nullify magic would extend to anything attempted on the key.

  Though the key might be unnecessary. I couldn’t feel any magic in the shackle, so I should be able to open it with magic. The problem wasn’t opening the lock as much as getting away from the minotaur. Even if I could get out of the cave, odds were he would be able to track me. Minotaurs didn’t have as good of a nose as werewolves, but they had some special mojo when it came to sniffing out women. From what I’d read, they could smell a humanoid female from several miles away.

  I kept my eyes on him as he set a pitcher in a stone basin. He started working the pump, and a moment later the pitcher was full of water. He pulled two cups off the shelf, one that looked appropriately sized for his hands and another that was rather tiny. After pouring water into both cups, he took a long swig of his and set it down. He carefully picked up the smaller cup, carried it over to me, and leaned down.

  He didn’t say anything, but there was a look of hesitation in his eyes as he held out the water. I wasn’t sure what he expected, but I gently took the water from him and took a drink. It was cool and a welcome refreshment after rationing my water last night.

  “Thank you,” I said, looking him in the eye. “That was very kind.”

  He nodded jerkily and backed away.

  I kept my face blank, but I was confused. From what I’d heard, minotaurs were raving beasts that were unable to control their sexual desires a
round women. Yet here he was, offering me a drink, looking unsure if I would take it or spit on him.

  Maybe, maybe there was chance I could get out of this without either one of us getting hurt.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Not long after the minotaur brought the water, he came over with a plate. The roughly sliced piece of bread had been cut out of a much larger chunk of bread. There was even a lump of butter sitting next to it.

  I took the plate from him. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and backed off.

  “Wait,” I said.

  He froze at the sound of my voice.

  “What’s your name?”

  His eyebrows pulled together, and I got the idea he was both surprised and confused by my question. I waited to see if he would say anything. Since I’d never met a minotaur before, I didn’t know how well they spoke English, assuming he knew the language at all.

  “Burly.”

  “Michelle.” I smiled at him. “Thank you, Burly. This is very kind.”

  He shrugged and moved off.

  After scooping the butter onto the bread and spreading it around, I took a bite. The bread was light, flavorful, and the butter was fresh. This was the best food I’d had since breakfast.

  Glancing up, I saw Burly watching me. I smiled at him again, and he turned away. As I finished my bread, I thought about my captor. He seemed a gentle soul. There was nothing in his demeanor or actions that led me to believe he was just waiting to live up to the terrible reputation his people had.

  To be fair, those were old stories. I didn’t have much current information on minotaurs. I knew they kept to themselves, but somehow I thought they were more like the trolls, corralled on preserves, not only to give them a place to live but to keep the rest of the population safe.

  Burly was making me question that assumption. After all, I’d never been told they lived that way. Best I could remember, I’d hardly been taught anything about them outside of history class. Which was weird. I’d learned more about far less significant species.