Knight's War: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye series Book 5)

by Taylor Aston White

  “GO!”

  Kyle drifted out.

  “SOMEONE CALL HIM BACK!” Arthur screamed, pointing to anyone who would listen. He stormed around the table, kicking out Alice’s legs until she was on her knees before him. “Chester,” he said in an eerily calm voice. “Take her back to her cell, and make sure the manacles are working.”

  Chester chuckled. “Guess it’s my time to play.”

  Chapter 27

  Alice hit the cold stone, hands slapping down to stop her fall. Red washed over them as the wards ignited.

  “You broke my nose,” Chester said in an icy tone, locking her cell door behind him.

  Alice snarled as she was yanked up, arms twisted so the chain linking her wrists was pulled tight against her throat.

  Blue.

  “The great War,” he whispered against her ear as she struggled for breath. “Is nothing but a pathetic, weak woman.” He released her, her lungs screaming for air.

  She called her chi, and the wards flared into light around her. The manacles squeezed, the blue-black metal warming against her raw flesh. Her chi stuttered, trying to figure a way around the cuffs that restricted her magic.

  Green.

  Chester laughed, a savage, almost excitable look in his eyes. He lifted a heavy boot and kicked her, knocking her into the table hard enough it toppled over.

  “You’re tragic,” Alice coughed, climbing to her hands and knees. “You have to use spells and chains.” She rolled out of the way of another kick, moving to hide behind the thick table. “What? Are you afraid of being beaten by a woman?”

  Yellow.

  “You really think you can beat me either way?”

  Alice shifted further behind the wood. “Oh, I know I can.”

  Purple.

  The wards turned off, leaving the cell in complete darkness.

  “Let’s play.”

  Alice calmed her breath, straining to hear any movement. Pulling the chain taut she held it between her palms, and waited.

  A footstep to her left, heavy boots crunching. He pulled at her ankle, yanking her across the stone, but she was ready. As soon as he released her she kicked up with both her feet, using the chain to hook behind his neck. Throwing herself backwards she rolled them, using the momentum to carry her over while he crashed into the side of the table.

  Tinkerbell appeared in a burst, allowing some light. Alice stared at it, eyes burning as it glowed, dancing around her head.

  What the fuck?

  “How did you do that?” Chester snarled. “YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

  The table shot across the cell, missing Alice by an inch as Tinkerbell sparkled. Her chi was still restricted, so how the fuck could a ball of arcane appear? Or was it not as constrained as she thought?

  “ARMA!” she called with all her strength, her necklace long gone but she began to feel the shield manifest around her, but too slowly.

  A fist connected to her chest, then another, blood fragrant at the back of her throat as the third connected to her jaw. Alice held up her arms, defending the blows as wild magic sparked down her arms.

  Chester staggered back, eyes wide as lightning shot out, separating the chain between her wrists.

  “VENTILABIS!” Alice pushed back, flames roaring from her palms. Chester screamed, hands covering his face as her magic melted the skin from his skull. Alice punched out, connecting to his windpipe, his scream cutting off. “Fuck you,” she spat.

  Chester dropped to his knees, sagging to the floor. Motionless.

  Alice panted, her chest tight, making it hard to draw in breaths. Her hands shook, arms heavy as she carefully rested against the cool wall.

  “Hello?” a little voice called out. “Are you there?”

  Alice froze, a draft teasing her ankles.

  “I know you are, I can feel you,” the little girl whispered. The breeze climbed up, cold across her flesh. “Are you okay?” With a click the cell door opened, and Ciara stood surrounded in darkness. Alice lifted Tinkerbell to the ceiling, quickly remembering that Ciara was blind.

  “Hello,” Alice croaked. “Hi,” she said again, clearing her throat. “How did you get in here?” She flicked a quick look in the cell opposite, but Miv was no longer there, her cell door ajar.

  Ciara dropped her head, biting her lip. “I brought you bread,” she said instead, holding out a single slice. It was covered in mould.

  Alice accepted it, moving slowly as not to startle her. The scent of decay floated along with the breeze, coming from Ciara. “Thank you.”

  Ciara looked up, turning her head as if she were looking around the cell. “Why are you down here?” she asked with a child-like innocence. “Are you bad? Am I bad?” she whispered the last part.

  “Oh, no baby,” Alice said, hesitantly reaching over to touch her hand. “Of course we’re not bad.” Her skin was cold, and purple in tone. “Far from it.”

  “But you’re like me?” She pushed out her bottom lip.

  “I am, and we’re really special.” Alice stroked a thumb across the back of her hand, ignoring the flesh that sagged at her delicate touch. Ciara’s thin hair had been recently brushed, pulled into a pony-tail high on her head. “I inherited my specialness from my mother, just like you.”

  Something glinted around Ciara’s neck, a crystal wrapped in gold wire and… Alice swallowed bile, recognising Ciara’s own hair attached to the pendent. She wasn’t sure what it was, but from Ciara’s appearance added with the scent of decay she could give it an educated guess.

  Ciara tried to smile, the skin at the edges of her mouth cracking open. Her spare hand lifted to her lips, but there was no blood on her fingertips, just a grey substance that oozed out the wound like slime. “Oh,” she cried, face scrunching up. “Why does it hurt so much?”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Alice wiped at the grey around her mouth.

  “There’s something wrong with me,” she whispered the statement. “But being near you makes me feel better.”

  Alice felt it too. Her magic recognised her in a way she didn’t understand. “Why do you say something is wrong with you?”

  Ciara trembled, making a sound as if she were choking, blood dripping from her eyes like tears. “It hurts,” she cried. “Why does it hurt?”

  “What hurts?”

  “Everything!” she screamed, the tears coming thick and fast. “Daddy said it wouldn’t hurt, that it was supposed to help me. But everything hurts. Why does it hurt?” She hiccupped, reaching blindly until her cold palm touched Alice’s face. “Can you help me make it stop? Make the pain go away?”

  Alice felt her own eyes burn. Arthur hadn’t known what to do with his daughter, and so he stopped her becoming Famine the only way he knew how. “Oh, baby, it’s okay.” Alice barely stopped herself from wrapping her arms around the child, not knowing whether her skin could take the contact. “I think I should talk to your daddy, can you take me?”

  Ciara wiped at her face with her arm, the sleeve covered in a mixture of red and grey. “He’s not been the same since I broke his special coin. But it was only a little, just a crack.”

  “It’s okay,” Alice soothed. This time she didn’t stop herself from pulling Ciara into her arms, settling her face carefully onto her shoulder. “It’s okay, it was an accident.” She knew what Ciara meant by coin, that she had cracked her seal. Did that mean she had inherited her Elemental power? Or did her father stop her before that happened?

  Ciara pulled back, blinking. “I didn’t mean it,” she hiccupped once again. “He was so angry. Is that why he hurt me?”

  Alice stood up, squinting into the hallway as Tinkerbell floated down to guide them. “You’re not bad, I promise.” Her stomach dropped, knowing her own father did exactly the same thing when she was a child.

  Ciara patted along her arm until she crushed their palms together. “He doesn’t believe me when I say I no longer hear the voices, but he still won’t help me.” New tears dripped down her petite, but hollow face. �
�Please, it hurts. Make it stop.”

  Chapter 28

  Ciara stood outside a door, hand hesitantly lifted to the wood. Alice watched, pulse beating beneath the manacles as her magic burned her fingertips. Her limbs were heavy, exhaustion taking its toll as her chest continued to ache.

  “Daddy?” Ciara knocked. “Daddy, it hurts.” She pushed it open, the heavy door creaking as an office appeared. Arthur sat at his desk, a large fireplace blazing at his back.

  “Honey,” he began, looking at his papers. “You’re not due another…” He looked up. “Honey,” he said carefully. “Can you leave us?”

  “No, daddy,” she shook her head, hair falling to the floor. “It hurts!”

  “Ciara,” he snapped, fury apparent in every line of his body. “Excuse us, now.”

  Ciara sobbed, shuffling back into Alice.

  “It’s okay, baby,” she soothed. “Let me speak to your daddy, it won’t hurt for much longer, I’ll make it stop.”

  Fight them.

  End them.

  Alice ignored her seal.

  “You promise?” Ciara reached up, searching for her face so she could feel her nod, fingertips tracing her features.

  Arthur stared, jaw rigid until Ciara had closed the door behind her. “I would ask where Chester is, but I feel the I know the answer.”

  Alice flicked her wrist, and the fireplace at his back turned blue.

  “Those manacles work, so how exactly are you evoking your chi?” he said, eerily calm as he slowly placed his chair beneath the desk, standing behind it. “They stop Ciara and every other magic wielder here, so how?”

  “How could you do that?” she asked. “Your own daughter?”

  “A father will do anything for his children, just like your own…”

  “No!” she snapped, the flames at his back growing along with her anger. “My father taught me to fight at a young age because he knew how my magic was unpredictable. My father read me to sleep to stop my nightmares when I was a child. My father sacrificed his own life to save me. The man who gave me up to be tortured was just a sperm donor who lived not knowing what it was like to have a family.”

  “Do you think I had any choice?” he lashed out with an acerbic edge. “She had broken her seal. She’s destined…”

  “Destined my arse. I’m tired of people telling me what I will do, what Ciara will do if and when we embrace the power.”

  “The scribes…”

  “Meaningless words. There is no such thing as destiny or fate. We all create our own paths in life, and yes, some choose the dark but that isn’t influenced by fate.” She stepped forward. “You were afraid.”

  “No.”

  “You were afraid and rather than face your daughter’s strength, you murdered your own child.”

  “NO!” Arthur pulled out a sword from beneath his desk, plain and made of a reflective silver. It looked to be all one piece, the pommel blending identically into the blade.

  “How are you keeping her here?” Flames coated her palms, bleeding up her arms. “That sort of magic always has a consequence. Whether she has to absorb others or eat from the deceased, there is always something. So tell me, how are you forcing her soul to remain in a decomposing body? Why are you forcing your daughter, your child to endure that pain and torture?”

  Arthur looked down the length of his sword. “So many people get it wrong, you know?” he whispered.

  Alice couldn’t help her laugh. “Who really is the monster here, Arthur?”

  He ignored her. “People still believe that the great sword Excalibur was the one found in the stone, and made King Arthur who he was.” He moved around the table. “But they’re wrong, it was Caliburn who the true king found in that stone, and it was Caliburn that broke when he defended the realm.”

  He lifted the sword, power thrumming.

  Wild magic drummed inside her, bewitched by the weapon. She could feel its age, an ancient Fae artefact.

  “And so the Lady of the Lake blessed King Arthur with Excalibur. And it will be with Excalibur that I destroy you.”

  He lifted the sword, and charged.

  “Acri ignisiam!” Alice held out her hand… warmth opening from within her chest.

  A familiar weight settled into her palm. She lifted it with all her strength, runes shimmering down her blade as it connected with Excalibur. Light appeared between the weapons, forcing them both back.

  “HOW?” Arthur screamed, lifting his sword once more.

  Lightning shot through her flames. She could feel Peyton through their familiar connection, his power coating her blade, strengthening it.

  Fight him.

  Destroy him.

  Kill them all.

  Whispers coaxed her, urging her.

  It was the one time she would listen.

  Alice moved her sword into a more comfortable position in her hand. Her grip was wet, a mixture of sweat and blood that weakened her swing. She moved fast into a reflexive attack that staggered Arthur back with its aggression. Exhaustion beat heavily against her, her arms beginning to shake once more as she used both hands to hold her blade still.

  “Your life-force will keep my daughter alive.”

  “I wouldn’t call that alive.”

  Decay tickled her nose, and Alice didn’t have to turn to know who had entered. She was grateful that Ciara was blind, whether by birth or by her father. She didn’t deserve to see what was next.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, speaking to the little girl dressed in periwinkle blue.

  Arthur froze, his attention on his daughter. “CIARA!” He tried to block her swing, the blow forcing him off balance. Alice had already turned with his movement, slicing across with a scream. Her sword tore through flesh and bone like butter, but it wasn’t deep enough as Ciara knocked into her, almost cutting herself.

  “DADDY!”

  Alice immediately dropped her sword as Ciara sobbed, little fists gripping her shirt. She didn’t want to hurt her.

  “DADDY! IT HURTS!”

  Excalibur clattered to the floor as Arthur clutched his stomach, blood leaking from between his fingertips. He scrambled towards his desk, hand disappearing into a drawer.

  Fight him.

  Destroy him.

  Kill them all.

  Alice kept her arms up, her blue flames continuing to burn as Ciara turned into her stomach, burying her face. She felt wetness soaking into what was left of her shirt.

  “This ends now.” Arthur produced her seal, slamming it down onto the desk.

  DESTROY HIM.

  “Wait, no!” Alice reached forward, grabbing Excalibur from where it fell.

  Arthur lifted a paper weight.

  “NO!” She threw the sword, using as much strength as she could as flame surrounded the reflective silver, helping it in flight. It was surprisingly light, and shot across the room with perfect trajectory before it sliced into Arthur’s chest, forcing him back and impaling onto the wall behind.

  He stood there for a moment, gasping as the paperweight dropped from his hand. He fell at the same time as Ciara, sagging until the blade sliced him in half and he crumpled to the ground.

  “Hey,” Alice collapsed with the little girl, wrapping her arms around her tiny shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay.” Alice couldn’t control the tears that burned down her cheeks. “The pain will be over soon.”

  Ciara couldn’t hear her as she was already gone, her lifeforce connected to her father. Grey slime erupted from her eye sockets, nostrils and mouth, coating her skin as it shrank, away to reveal muscle and then bone. And yet Alice held her, rocking her as if the little motion could give her comfort.

  “HANDS UP!”

  Alice blinked away the tears. She carefully settled Ciara onto the ground, tucking her periwinkle dress around her. Keeping her movements slow, deliberate, she stood.

  Brett stood by the open door, eyes flicking to Alice, then to Arthur who was a flash of red at the back, and then he looked down at Ciara, who was s
lowly turning to dust, her dress almost empty.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered, turning his gun towards the wall just as the rest of the Knights smashed through the doors.

  “What the fuck happened here?” one of them asked. “Is that…?”

  Miviana pushed through the group of ten or so. “Looks like we have a new leader.”

  Alice swayed, blinking heavily. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Those are the rules,” another of the Knights said, a woman with short red spikes. “It’s why Arthur never left the tunnels. He was worried one of us would stab him in the back.”

  “I don’t want this job,” Alice said.

  “Good.” Miviana looked towards the Knights, then back again. “Then I ask for leadership.”

  “This is bullshit.”

  “I want to be leader.”

  “Who says you’re capable, Miv?”

  The Knights muttered between themselves.

  Brett shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. “I vote Miviana.”

  “WHAT?”

  “WHAT?”

  “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

  Alice ignored them, turning to Miv. “What of my brother?”

  She shook her head. “If he’s bound, there is nothing we can do. He has to fulfil his contract, but I will bring back integrity and honour amongst the guild.” She turned to the others. “We will be protectors of the innocents once more.”

  Half the Knights cheered, the other half looked aggravated.

  Miv stepped over Arthur after a cautionary glance, pulling Excalibur out the wall with one large tug. Alice wasn’t going to argue. If the Fae wanted their artefact back, they would have to get it themselves.

  “And what of the Horseman?” a familiar woman asked, Chester’s handler. She shot Alice a sharp glare. “We exist because of her.”

  “We exist because of War, because of Pestilence, Death and Famine.” Miv looked down to the dress with a sad smile. “Miss Draco is not War, at least not yet.”

  “Then we should…”

  Miv thrust Excalibur into the ground, the sound sharp. “And until then she is a friend of The Knights.”