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Demon Witch (The Ternion Order Book 2)

Page 8

by Daniel R. Marvello


  With Cyrus once again at her side, they crept through a copse of trees toward the farmhouse, trusting Fenris to return and warn them if their presence was detected. She couldn’t guarantee that her mental shield spell would completely hide their presence. She felt confident the shield would mask their intent from the wards well enough, but it was less effective against a true psychic like Lucille Hayworth. If Hayworth foresaw their arrival or was able to sense a threat anywhere on the property, they might have to retreat in a hurry.

  During their reconnoiter of the farm’s perimeter, they’d identified three locations that would get them close enough to the farmhouse to complete the evening’s mission. Unfortunately, two of those locations placed her team too close to the farm animals. The horses and goats would panic if Fenris approached in wolf form, so that ruled out the areas near the barn and the goat pen. The third option was to sneak through the trees in the empty horse paddock and perform their work from the corner of the pasture nearest the house. Unfortunately, that option exposed them to the Order’s sentries although the timbers of the old wooden gate would help obscure their silhouettes.

  Marcella sniffed at the cool damp air that had settled in after the recent rains. It would hamper their plans unless the eaves of the house had sufficiently sheltered the vegetation along the farmhouse foundation.

  When they reached the gap between the dark shelter of the trees and the tenuous cover of the wooden gate, they practically crawled across the intervening pasture, watching and listening intently. The weak light of the quarter moon revealed only the silhouettes of the two patrolling hunters. She timed her forward movement by the direction of their pacing as the two sentries tried to stay awake and warm.

  The tactic worked well until just before they reached the gate where Fenris was waiting for them. One of the sentries came to a sudden stop and then turned to walk in their direction. Marcella and Cyrus froze. Fenris, hardly more than a dark shadow against the backdrop of the meadow, crouched and leaped. He cleared the gate effortlessly and silently stalked toward the sentry.

  The hunter didn’t spot Fenris until the wolf was only a few yards away. The man unshouldered his carbine, but before he could bring it to bear, he went down under the savage pounce of a hundred-and-seventy-pound canine. The only noise to betray the attack was the hunter’s body and rifle thudding to the ground.

  Oblivious to his compatriot’s fate, the second sentry continued his patrol in the opposite direction.

  The wolf slunk away from the unmoving shape of the supine sentry toward the second guard while Marcella and Cyrus reached the gate and crouched facing each other.

  Marcella plucked at the grass growing along the base of the gate post. “Too damp?” she whispered.

  Cyrus shook his head and slipped his lightweight backpack off his shoulders. He extracted a wineskin and a black canvas bundle, which he untied and rolled open. Inside the canvas was a set of tools. With practiced speed, he pressed a spoked plastic ring into the dirt and used the compass built into the hub to align it. When he lifted the ring, it left behind a six-inch circular impression with marks at north, south, east, and west. Prying a cork out of the wineskin’s spigot, he began an incantation and carefully poured a stream of salt into the circle.

  Marcella watched the farmhouse closely while Cyrus worked. Casting dark magic inside the wards might alert the witch who set them even if the wards hadn’t been designed with that purpose in mind. Additionally, the spells they were about to cast could easily overwhelm her psychic shield. But she was more excited than she was worried. Since she’d joined with Iledaste, her magic was more potent than ever. She had more power, strength, and stamina than any mere human witch or warlock.

  When she glanced down to check on Cyrus’s progress, he was placing a small silver chalice in the center of the circle, which was the final step of his preparations. At each compass point he’d already positioned a small talisman representing the appropriate element: a gemstone at north, a feather at east, a tiny brass incense burner at south, and a glass sphere of water at west. Each artifact touched, but did not disrupt, the perfect circle of salt. Cyrus finished his incantation, sealing the circle and protecting the working they were about to perform.

  Cyrus handed Marcella a dried aspen leaf and raised an eyebrow questioningly. She watched the house for a moment, and then nodded her permission to continue. So far, the occupants seemed unaware of their activities.

  Chanting softly, Cyrus dropped a piece of charcoal into the chalice and lit it, carefully using his body to hide the flare of the match from the sentry’s eyes. The charcoal smoldered briefly and then began to glow.

  Marcella joined Cyrus with her own incantation, concentrating on weaving her words in with his and calling to the dark spirits to help them against their enemies. She crushed the leaf Cyrus had given her and sprinkled the crumbs into the chalice. The leaf bits darkened and smoked, but did not catch fire immediately, just as she wanted.

  Together, she and Cyrus focused on the farmhouse and intensified their call to the spirits. They had to keep their voices low so the sentry wouldn’t hear them, but that wasn’t a problem. Calling the spirits was about sincerity and resolve, not volume.

  The column of leaf smoke rose from the chalice and bent toward the house. It streamed over the garden area and circled the foundation, rustling the weeds and wildflowers. Cyrus introduced new phrases into his incantation, and the flowers wilted under the increased heat. As Cyrus stepped up the intensity of his incantation, loose paint on the siding at the base of the house began to curl and tendrils of smoke began to rise.

  Marcella watched while Cyrus increased the heat. When she estimated that conditions were right, she stopped chanting and blew gently over the chalice. As the smoldering leaves burst into flame, Cyrus uttered a completion phrase and made a sidearm throwing motion toward the house.

  All of the vegetation along the base of the house as well as the lower section of siding instantly burst into flame.

  They watched their handiwork for a moment and shared a celebratory grin as the sentries responded with yells of alarm. Cyrus quickly dumped the chalice and cooled it with loose soil while Marcella jammed the other items into the toolkit. Cyrus rolled up the kit and tossed it into his backpack while Marcella swept the casting circle away with her hand.

  Their mission complete, the two arsonists ran toward the trees, counting on the chaos behind them to mask their departure. They reached the safety of the trees undiscovered and headed for the damaged section of fence. Fenris loped past, effortlessly weaving through the trunks and underbrush.

  Once everyone was outside the fence, Fenris transformed back to his human form and the trio returned to their vehicle with smug satisfaction at a night’s work well done.

  As much as Marcella would have liked to stay and watch the hunters struggle with the conflagration, the pleasure wasn’t worth the risk. The fire would either destroy the farmhouse and its occupants, or it wouldn’t. They would find out soon enough how successful their attack had been. Either way, it would keep her enemies distracted and on the defensive.

  Chapter 11

  Teamwork

  “Fire! Everybody out!”

  Jonathan’s shout and his fist pounding twice on the door startled Amanda awake.

  Kyle sat up next to her. “What the …”

  Flickering orange light reflected against the window frame and billowing smoke rose past the window. The fire was right outside her room!

  Amanda and Kyle leaped from the bed. Amanda wore a long flannel nightgown, but Kyle slept naked. “Hurry,” she encouraged unnecessarily as he hastily pulled on a pair of pants and grabbed his flannel shirt from where he’d draped it over a chair. They both stuffed their feet into their slippers and left the room.

  Downstairs, Jonathan was waiting next to a pile of jackets that had been yanked from the closet, hangers and all. Urging them forward, he said, “Take your jacket and go out through the porch.”

  “Where’
s Lucille?” Amanda asked as she bent down to retrieve her coat.

  “She’s already outside. Come on, you need to keep moving.”

  A wide-eyed Cara padded barefoot down the stairs in a two-piece pajama set made of red silk. Her dark hair appeared more windblown than slept on. Amanda couldn’t help feeling annoyed that, even disheveled, Cara managed to look sexy. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “There’s a fire,” Jonathan answered curtly, waving her forward. “Put on some shoes and a jacket and go outside.”

  Amanda slipped on her coat and followed Kyle out of the house.

  The screened-in porch was wet from the water that had been sluiced over it. They dodged as another bucket was tossed onto the structure to keep the fire at bay. Amanda coughed as the wind swirled smoke around the corner of the house, stinging her eyes and engulfing her. Currents of heat threaded through the chill of the late October, pre-dawn hour.

  Amanda and Kyle ran over to where Lucille, Noreen, and Jessie were huddled together away from the burning house. Tears streamed down Lucille’s face as she watched her family home go up like kindling. “Everything … gone,” she said weakly. Then she swallowed hard and started striding toward the barn. “There’s got to be another bucket somewhere.”

  Noreen and Jessie started to follow her, but Amanda stopped them. “Wait. There’s more than one way to put out a fire.”

  Amanda turned toward the house to see what they were dealing with. Flames licked up the siding all the way around. The sentries were keeping the porch area clear of flame by concentrating their efforts there, but the rest of the house was burning unchecked. Another few buckets weren’t going to make a difference.

  How could this happen? Someone would have had to pour accelerant around the entire house for it to all go up at the same time like that. But how could that person have evaded the sentries?

  Noreen was staring intently at the fire and muttering calls to the spirits, holding one hand out toward the fire. Even without the support of her tools or a casting circle, she was a powerful fire witch and might be able to contain or direct the fire. “Dammit,” she said, closing her hand into a fist and pulling it back to her side. “Something is fighting me.”

  Kyle nodded his head as he stared at the fire. “More dark magic.”

  “What did you say?” Noreen demanded.

  Kyle squinted at the fire as if trying to make out some detail. “Dark magic is woven into the flames,” he answered.

  Jessie paled and put her hand to her throat. “Thank goodness we sent the kids to stay with my parents.”

  Amanda glanced at Noreen. “Magical accelerant,” she concluded, and her mentor nodded in agreement. That explained why the fire nearly encircled the house.

  Jonathan guided Tanya through a cloud of smoke as they ran coughing through the soaked porch and away from the house. Jonathan signaled to his men that the house was clear. The sentries turned their attention to sloshing water on the flames at the base of the house, but their efforts were too little, too late as the flames climbed the wall. They needed water everywhere at once, just as the fire was everywhere at once.

  Cara joined the group of women, hugging herself against the chill. Tanya stumbled toward them as Jonathan went to help his hunters.

  Amanda’s anger and adrenaline pushed her mind into a hyper-aware state that slowed down everything around her. They needed to fight magic with magic. “I have an idea,” Amanda said, “but we have to hurry.” She waved the others closer. “Everybody gather in a Ring of Calling.”

  Amanda didn’t have time for explanations or propriety. Fortunately, Noreen didn’t question or argue under the desperate circumstances. The coven mistress simply positioned herself to the south of Amanda. Cara stood to Amanda’s left and Jessie moved into position on her right.

  With all four compass points covered, Tanya wasn’t sure what to do. “Where do you want me?” asked the apprentice.

  Amanda considered leaving Tanya out of the casting. She was inexperienced, and asking her to be prime was risky. But she was powerful when she didn’t hold herself back. She might give them the boost they needed to succeed.

  “In the center,” Amanda answered. When the girl hesitated, she added, “Quickly!”

  Tanya hurried into the center of the circle and the other women joined hands around her. “You want me to be prime?”

  “Just follow our lead. I’ll explain as we go.”

  Noreen narrowed her eyes and frowned, her doubt clear in her expression. Amanda couldn’t blame her for her lack of faith. Casting an unpracticed spell was difficult under the best of circumstances. Orchestrating the efforts of five witches on the fly was next to impossible. But what choice did she have? It helped that their minds were already focused on the fire and the spell’s objective was simple.

  Amanda took an extra few seconds to ensure that everyone was aligned with their respective compass points, and then she started the purification ceremony. Her coven sisters knew their roles well, so it took only a moment to call the spirits of light and push away the dark spirits that had been drawn to the dark magic Kyle had sensed in the fire.

  “Tanya, listen carefully,” Amanda instructed. “Do what I tell you as best you can. Don’t think. Don’t question. Just do.”

  Tanya gulped and nodded. This was not Tanya’s first time being prime for a casting, but during her previous experiences, Noreen had scripted and coached her in what to do. The strain in her features showed that she understood the gravity of the situation. With every second that passed, the flames ate deeper into the sides of the house and grew closer to the eaves. If the fire penetrated the roof or the walls, the house would be lost.

  Amanda spoke swiftly but clearly. “We’re going to take all of the water from the tank in the corral and put it around the house. Jessie will siphon it out of the tank and get it flowing. I’ll make sure it doesn’t soak into the ground. Cara will keep it from spreading out, and Noreen will strengthen the flow.”

  Tanya’s brow creased in confusion for a moment, but when Amanda’s jaw clenched in irritation, she blinked rapidly a few times and started to call the spirits. Amanda and the other witches joined her, reinforcing the spell with their individual elemental strengths.

  The process was agonizingly slow at first. Water flowed over the edge of the corrugated metal tank and spilled onto the ground. It splashed uselessly until Tanya shaped Cara’s air working into a tube. The approach worked so well that Amanda was able to abandon the task she’d set for herself and lent her strength to Tanya’s efforts.

  The tube of water stretched from the tank to the house, circling it at about waist height. Jonathan called his hunters back from the burning house, unsure of what the witches had planned.

  Within thirty seconds, the last water had drained from the tank, and the circle around the house was complete. Tanya seemed to be having trouble holding the water in position, and she sent a panicked look toward Amanda.

  “You’re doing great,” Amanda reassured her. “Now, blast all of the water at the house.”

  Tanya smiled and nodded. She concentrated on the water tube and called to the spirits.

  Spells rarely behaved exactly the same way twice, even when practiced regularly. The mind of the caster shaped how the magic manifested in the real world, and that vision adapted to circumstance.

  Tanya’s impromptu vision for blasting the water at the house was nothing less than spectacular. With a deafening bang, she split the air tube and hurled the water toward the house with such violence that the liquid was nearly atomized. The result was unexpectedly effective: the destruction of the air tube acted like a detonation that shook the ground and extinguished much of the flame before the water drenched the siding. Several of Jonathan’s men instinctively dropped to the ground.

  The climax of the spell taxed Amanda’s strength so swiftly that she swayed with dizziness. Jessie also sagged, nearly falling to her knees before she recovered and took a deep breath.

  Lu
cille had been on her way out of the barn with an old feed bucket when the spell erupted. She froze and stared in shock at the farmhouse’s smoldering siding. With a grateful smile toward the witches, she joined the sentries and helped throw water on the few spots that were threatening to reignite.

  Tanya stood stunned in open-mouthed amazement. Then she lowered her head and blushed, giving Amanda a sheepish look. “Sorry. I’ve never handled that much power before.”

  Amanda grinned at her and said, “You did great.” Tilting her head back, she began the incantation to release the spirits. Joined by her coven sisters, they shut down the Ring of Calling and dropped their hands.

  Amanda stepped forward and gave Tanya a hug. “Thank you,” she said, patting the young witch’s back. “That was impressive.”

  “See what you can accomplish when you apply yourself?” A note of gentleness took some of the sting out of Noreen’s typically caustic wording.

  Amanda approached the house with Lucille and Jonathan. The siding was badly damaged, but most of the charring seemed to be external.

  “Do you think we saved it?” she asked.

  Jonathan looked up the two-story wall toward the eaves, which were darkened by smoke, but otherwise undamaged. “You may have stopped it in time. The fire department is on its way, and we’ll watch for any lingering hot spots.”

  “We’ll check the inside,” Amanda said and started toward the house, expecting Lucille to follow her. When her friend continued staring at the siding, she touched the older woman’s arm. “Are you okay?”

  Lucille looked up and blinked a few times. “Yes … I’m fine. I just can’t believe it. I’ve seen plenty of magic, but nothing like that. I was sure everything I owned was lost.” Lucille’s reserve cracked and a tear rolled down her weathered cheek. “Thank you for saving my home,” she said before grabbing Amanda in a tight hug.

 

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