Witch Bane (23 page)

From the trees, shadows crept. A number of
Red Guard soldiers emerged first, Sebastian recognizing them as the
same type of fanatics that had served at the side of the Red Witch;
true warriors trained in battle, not just armored rabble. They
spilled out fearless, but silent. Behind them came Shade and the
Green Witch. The assassin moved slowly, each step tentative, while
the green-robed witch could barely contain her excitement. The Red
Guard charged toward the camp, having been spotted at last.

The resistance men bolted, fleeing
into the woods with loud shouts, as though delivering a warning to
the other members who they pretended lay ahead. The doppelgangers
spun about and spied the approaching force. They stood just long
enough for the approaching army to see, and hopefully, recognize
them before the false
Darius
loosed a crossbow bolt in their direction. They both ran into
the cluster of trees, making sure to flee the opposite direction
than the rest of the men had gone.

“
Follow them,” the Green Witch
shouted. Her voice cracked at the end as she pointed off after the
fleeing decoys, not bothering to give specific directions as to
which group to follow.

Sebastian smiled, once more reminded of how
accurate his father’s predictions were. Having spent many years
fighting against the witches and then amongst them, Darius had an
unexpected amount of knowledge as to their movements and nature. It
had been his job, however forced, to teach the soldiers proper
martial discipline so the Red Guard might continue in their
conquests. His father had resisted, passing on only the most
rudimentary of tactical functions to the soldiers, teaching them
specific regimens in the hopes he might one day lead an army
against them. He doubted this was the grand force his father had
intended.

Shade, however, was not as predictable as
the rest. As the Green Witch raced ahead to follow after the
doppelgangers, the assassin slowed and remained behind, staying a
distance away from the main group. Her eyes searched the trees.
While she had stumbled upon the camp as expected, she must have
known deep down something wasn’t right. She hadn’t warned the witch
or soldiers, but she prowled forward with a tentative uncertainty
that might ruin everything. It was probably only moments before she
determined the truth of what her instincts told her.

Sebastian knew he had to do something before
she caught wind of the trap. Only vague arrangements made between
him and his father, the plan fluid enough to allow for both likely
and unexpected events. Darius would adapt to whatever happened as
it did. The original idea was to separate the witches and Shade
from one another. With the Green Witch doing their work for them,
the White Witch nowhere to be seen, and Shade well back at the
rear, behind the small force of Red Guard that had accompanied
them, Sebastian felt he had the best opportunity he would get.

Rather than close in behind the Green Witch
as was expected of him, he waited, letting her and the soldiers get
further away as Shade drew closer. He knew not to move, the
assassin’s senses on high alert. She would notice were Sebastian to
get anxious. He sat in silence as she crept on, waiting agonizing
seconds as she moved toward his hiding space. Her blades were in
her hands, each hand poised to deliver a blow. Sebastian waited
just another moment, knowing she would be ready for an attack from
behind or at her flanks, so he stayed frozen until she was nearly
on him. With her directly in front, the very last place she would
ever imagine an ambush coming from, Sebastian lashed out.

He drew his blade and lunged forward in a
single motion. As he’d expected, Shade heard him at the very last
instant, and out of trained instinct, she pivoted, expecting the
attack from somewhere other than straight ahead. She didn’t realize
where Sebastian was until he was upon her.

Despite the effectiveness of the surprise,
she managed to shift away. His attack struck her right arm rather
than her chest, where he had aimed, but the blow landed clean. The
sword cut through her biceps, nearly severing it in half. Shade
shrieked and stumbled away as her arm dropped to her side, blood
spewing from the mangled strips of meat that flapped like red
banners with her every motion.

Though Sebastian knew he’d crippled her, he
understood a warrior like Shade was dangerous as long as a single
breath still swirled in her lungs. He stayed on her, hoping to
bring her down before the witch and Red Guard could return to
help.

He slashed at her throat, attempting to draw
her off with a feint, but even down to her off-hand, she made the
parry look easy. He pressed forward, dictating the pace, forcing
her to work as the blood spilled from her wound. Their swords
clashed and Sebastian could hear distant shouts, panic and fury in
their voices. The Red Guard was coming back.

Sebastian growled and pushed ahead, Shade
easily his equal in swordsmanship, even with her left. Though she
could not wrest control of the fight away, or stop him from backing
her up, she effectively blocked every blow, reading him as though
he were a novice. He glanced to see the quicksilver rot as it ate
at her wound, the sword’s fury running rampant through her veins,
but she held strong. His opportunity was fading away fast.

He couldn’t let that happen.

For all her skill, she only had one arm.
Sebastian put all of his strength into his attack, steel and silver
crashing into one another. A memory of youth running rampant in his
mind, he closed on her, pushed hard into her sword, and released
his as he ducked beneath the locked blades, ramming his head into
her stomach.

He’d pulled the move once on his father,
many years back, the sheer absurdity of it allowing it to succeed
the first, and only, time. It was nothing a sane fighter with a
respect for his life would ever do. The insanity of it worked
against Shade, as well, and he only needed the once.

The breath huffed from her mouth as
Sebastian wrapped his arms around her waist and drove her to the
ground. He twisted her about in mid-fall, making sure her sword
side struck first, all of his weight wedged into her armpit and
against her chest. The blade bounced from her hand as they struck
the moist humus, Sebastian driving the top of his head into her
chin.

He heard the clack of her teeth, and a deep
groan slipped from her mouth as he pressed down with all his
strength. Down an arm, her mouth held away from him, Shade could
only attack with her left. A true fighter, she did her best, never
stopping in her efforts. Ineffective punches rained against his
forehead as he tightened his grip around her neck and shoulder. He
felt her buck beneath him as soon as he swung his legs to her side,
Shade clearly realizing what he intended.

By then, it didn’t matter. It was already
too late.

His arms locked, his full weight pinning her
to the ground, there was nothing she could do to stop the
inevitable. The arteries at her neck being squeezed tight by his
arm on one side and her own shoulder on the other, she twitched
beneath him, frantically trying to shake him off before the blood
flow to her brain ceased. Her resistance lasted only seconds. She
went limp without ceremony, her good arm falling to curl lifeless
across the dirt.

Though Sebastian could hear the Red Guard
storming through the trees, he held on, squeezing even tighter.
There was no chance Shade could fake unconsciousness in the hopes
of tricking him into letting her go, but he wanted to be sure she
wouldn’t get back up once he was forced to release her. He clutched
her to him for as long as he dared, knowing even if she did survive
the lack of blood to her brain, and eventually returned to
wakefulness, she would never again be a threat. The longer the
blood remained cut off, the less likely she would regain the full
function of her mind. The damage done would be irreparable.

Finally, Sebastian flung her limp form aside
and reclaimed his sword as the first of the Red Guard came at him.
His arms tingling from the unexpected grappling, he was forced to
parry a couple of blows before he could deliver one of his own. The
soldier fell away when he did, crimson rain spilling from his
mouth.

Sebastian spun away into the trees to slow
the others who charged after him, angry shouts ringing in his ears
for what he’d done to Shade. The soldiers came at him without
mercy, but it did them little good. Their numbers forced into
narrow lines by the terrain, they might as well have killed
themselves. One by one, Sebastian cut his way through the Red
Guard, marveling at how well the location had worked out. Dead
bodies cluttered in the gaps between the trees, adding another
obstacle to slow the soldiers’ advance while allowing him to set an
easy pace.

Griffins screeched as they flew over the
treetops, but no new soldiers dropped into the woods, the thickness
of the gnarled canopy making it impossible for the men above to see
what transpired below. They were blind to their compatriots who lay
dying beneath them.

Not having even bothered to will a shield
into place, none of the Red Guard coming close to doing him harm,
Sebastian broke into a humorless grin when he smelled the expected
scent of brimstone amidst the metallic tang of blood. It had all
been too easy.

He slipped behind a pile of corpses as the
first fiery attack raged past. The Guard stopped their advance as
it exploded beside them, pulling back to let the witch take the
lead.

Unlike the Red Witch, the Green drew forward
without bluster. She didn’t threaten or boast; she simply walked
toward him, ready to do battle. For all Sebastian’s confidence,
born on the back of Shade’s defeat, it was an intimidating
sight.

Her black hair was pulled behind her head,
out of her face, making her look like a hawk in search of its prey.
The dark pools of her eyes regarded him as he darted about behind a
knot of trees. She kept him in sight, letting loose bolts of fire
as she tried to cut off his retreat. Foliage went up in flames
around him. Another few moments and she would have succeeded in her
efforts.

Sebastian couldn’t let her block him in. His
advantage was movement. Once that was gone, he was dead. He willed
his shield to the front and felt his magic resist. It was like
willing a boulder to roll up a hill, his power only coming alive at
the very last instant. He charged through the wall of fire the
witch had created. The heat lapped at him, reflected off his
weakened shield. He broke through the other side, unharmed. She
clearly didn’t intend to let him go that easily.

Still closing, the witch sprayed the canopy
with fire, the green roof engulfed in the flames, leaves and
branches being consumed at an unnatural pace. Sebastian realized
what she was doing. She was clearing the way for reinforcements and
signaling her location, all at once.

Time turning against him, the treetops going
up in reddish-orange flames, he spun on his heels and charged,
hoping to intimidate her. The Green Witch smiled, fiery sparks
dancing at her fingers. She stood her ground.

Twenty-Seven

Hardly rested from her short stay among the
resistance, Emerald trudged awkwardly alongside Elizabeth Bourne.
With no horses, the creatures said to be more likely to give them
away with their noise than help, the group moved slow through the
forest. Dozens of pregnant young girls waddled alongside her, a
kindred mass of sympathetic spirit. Elizabeth kept an illusory
shield overtop to keep the Red Guard from spotting them. Her eyes
were glassy as she concentrated, Freya and Karil at her side to
keep her from losing her balance.

The aches and pains of her earlier journey
having returned to plague her, Emerald hoped the camp would find a
safe place to light, and soon. Her feet throbbing and blistered,
she had pulled the dagger Victor had given her from her boot and
slipped it through the back of her waistband early in the trip.
That only made her back stiffen, so she’d placed it in the small
bag Elizabeth’s people had given her, along with a few supplies she
might need. After a while, that too became too much of a burden.
She was grateful when one of the resistance men offered to carry it
for her. She let it go without a thought.

She was in no shape to stomp about
Mynistiria, lugging a pack, fleeing the approaching Red Guard
soldiers every few days. If this was what resistance life was
about, Emerald thought she might let Elizabeth nullify her magic,
and sneak off to have her son in peace somewhere far beyond the
reach of both the resistance
and
her mother. She could live without her power, but she
couldn’t imagine living without the child growing in her
belly.

A smile flickered at her lips and she
breathed a quiet sigh. She would be a mother soon, and would show
her child all the love she’d never known until she found Victor.
Her hand going to her stomach without thought, her smile grew wider
when she felt the warmth of it. She wanted nothing more than
Elizabeth to tear down the Council and free the world from the
tyranny of her mother and fellow witches who would bleed her child
to extend their own lives but a few, miserable years.

Her smile washed away, she felt her anger
growing, her cheeks burning. The subtle drift of brimstone crept
into her nose and her fury faded in an instant. Fearful she’d
summoned her power to the fore, she clamped down upon her will only
to realize it hadn’t been her. She glanced to Elizabeth and saw her
stumble to a stop, eyes wide. Karil and Freya looked about with
panic as the camouflage shield above faded away. They all sniffed
the air.

Among the trees ahead, Emerald was the first
to spy the source of the magic, her mother standing bold before
them. Scattered within the woods, to her side, were the leering
faces of the Red Guard; hundreds of them, weapons drawn and clearly
eager to advance.