Witch Bane (25 page)

“
Come, Elizabeth. You would lie and
say I killed Alise when the whole of the realm knows it was you who
betrayed your friend and slaughtered her as she sat powerless under
the nullification spell you’d cast upon her. You pretended to be
her friend, tricking her into giving up her magic so you might slay
her and claim the throne for yourself. Your plan failed,
witch.”

“
No. That was you!” Elizabeth
shrieked. Her voice crackled with her rage.

Emerald shook her head at the man, gesturing
for him to look down at her hands. He followed her eyes as she
mimed unsheathing the dagger, and then signaled that was all she
wanted. He stared at her blankly a moment, not seeming to
comprehend. She mouthed the word, “Please,” willing the man to do
as she asked.

“
You lie to your people. They can hear
it in your voice; the desperation is clear,” Deborah goaded. “Make
your last act one of valor, Elizabeth. You betray their trust with
your foolishness.”

Emerald could sense the impasse coming to an
end. Elizabeth’s hand crept toward her belly, the heat of it nearly
unbearable. She looked one last time to the man and he met her gaze
for but an instant before his face dropped away. Tears bubbled to
life and streamed warm down her cheeks. She slumped against the
witch’s hold.

In the near silence, she heard the slightest
of scrapes.

Thirty-One

His teeth bared, Sebastian threw himself at
the Lord again. His sword clanged against the axe as Victor only
smiled. Sebastian feinted high, swiping at the man’s legs instead.
That too was blocked, as was the riposte that followed, the Lord
shoving him aside with the flat of his axe.

Sebastian thought about doing what he’d done
to Shade, but Victor moved with an ease that belied his massive
size. Even if he were to surprise the man and get inside the range
of the axe, Sebastian held out no hope of outmuscling him. Built
like a mountain, the Lord would likely snap him like a twig. For
all it apparent uselessness, Sebastian’s greatest chance lay in his
sword. Just one scratch might turn the tide, the mercurial
infection an equalizer unmatched.

Sebastian snarled and launched himself at
Victor again and again, mixing styles and throwing feints, growing
angrier by the moment as each attack was turned aside without
effort.

He was further infuriated that the Lord had
done nothing more than defend. Sebastian went at him time and time
again, but all Victor did was parry the blows, not even trying to
counter. The Lord left him no opening to exploit. What little
confidence Sebastian had grew brittle in the wake of his repeated
failure. The Lord was toying with him.

Just as he readied one last assault, he saw
the smile drop from Victor’s face. The man’s eyes looked glassy,
his gaze shifting desperate toward the trees. He stood rigid,
ignoring Sebastian as though he no longer existed.

“
Emerald,” Victor muttered in his
roughened voice. Like steel upon a whetstone the word rang out
harsh.

Seeing the opportunity, Sebastian darted in
once more. Victor growled and turned back in time to meet his
attack, turning it aside with ease once again. For the first time,
he didn’t stop there.

Victor’s massive fist crashed into
Sebastian’s solar plexus, knocking the air from his lungs. He felt
his legs give out and he fell, sucking in vain for a breath. The
Lord kicked him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling backward.
His head struck the ground and stars whirled before his eyes. He
struggled to get back to his feet, to defend against the death blow
that was coming, but he could barely move. His sword was still
clenched in his hand, though he couldn’t seem to wield it, the
blade flopping against the ground as though it were a landed
fish.

At last, he rolled to his side with a gasp,
glorious air filling his lungs. He looked for Victor only to find
he was no longer there. Sebastian slowly got to his knees, and then
made his way to his feet, using a nearby tree for support. The
sounds of the Red Guard drawing closer, he looked to where the
Green Witch had been, but she, too, was missing. Unsure of where
the woman had gone, and whether she even still lived, he hissed and
let it lie, going to his father’s side.

The ground around Darius had been stained
with his blood, nothing more than a gentle trickle still spilling
from the wound, the whole of him bled out. Sebastian set his hand
against his father’s neck and felt the cooling emptiness of dead
flesh. Though he’d known it before he touched him, the confirmation
brought tears to his eyes. His father was gone, and Sebastian was
alone.

He looked upon his father’s body as the Red
Guard stormed toward him. Never one for material objects or overt
sentimentality, Sebastian knew his father would urge him to go on
and leave his body behind. It represented nothing in the grand
scheme of life, Darius having lived solely for revenge and his son
since the death of Alise. Sebastian still alive, and revenge yet to
be satisfied, he knew what he must do. He leaned down and kissed
his father on his cold cheek and said his farewells.

Tears blurring his eyes, he ran for the
trees. No time to search for the witch, he plowed into the dense
foliage. The Lord of the Hunt had gone to the resistance, and
Sebastian believed he needed to go there as well. If Emerald were
in trouble that meant the camp was under attack.

The White Witch would be there, if she were
anywhere.

The Green Witch an uncertainty he could deal
with later, he forced the shadows to envelop him, grunting with the
effort, and slipped away to avoid the soldiers that scrambled at
his heels. He ran until his breath caught fire in his lungs.

Once he was sure the Red Guard had been lost
in the woods behind in, he sheathed his sword and circled around to
where he had fought Shade. The Green Witch having disappeared, he
wanted to be sure the assassin hadn’t vanished, too. Barely able to
survive against them individually, he wanted no part of them
together. Before he went after the White Witch, he needed to be as
certain as he could be that she was all he would face.

When he arrived at the place where he and
Shade had fought, his heart slowed in his chest. Her body was
gone.

He ran to where she’d fallen and let loose a
whistling sigh. Covered by the tall grass, not visible from where
he stood just moments before, was a trail leading further into the
woods. He examined it, believing at first she had been dragged off,
but he noticed the earth had been torn up in small spots, only on
one side of the path, which extended along its length at fairly
equal distances. He looked closer and realized it was where someone
had sunk their hand into the ground to pull themselves along, only
to dig in further on to do the same.

She lived.

Amazed by her resilience, he followed the
path, finding her just a short ways down it. Oblivious to his
presence, she reached out with her right arm, slow and unsteady,
and dug her fingers into the moist earth. Tiny, wet whimpers
slipped from her as she struggled to pull herself forward, her body
dragging lifeless behind her as though it were a snake.

Sebastian watched her for a few moments.
Though she was his enemy, he couldn’t help but admire her. Crippled
and dying as she was, she continued on without respite, striving to
reach help so she might live. She’d never make it, even if he let
her go. A strange pang of pity struck him as he watched her
struggle, his stomach souring at her plight. He could not find it
in him to wish it upon anyone.

He walked up behind her and rolled the
assassin over so he could look upon her masked face. The
quicksilver had done its work. Her eyes peered out from within her
covering, dots of gray speckled amidst the blue. She stared up at
him as he pulled her mask away. Her veins stood out, pulsing
against her scarred cheeks and across her temples. They were black
tendrils, which crisscrossed her face, making it look as though a
thick spider’s web had been set upon it. The ruin of her nose,
clearly lost before their battle, stood out in shades of blue and
yellow. Her throat was swollen to the size of her head and
Sebastian marveled at how she could still breathe, let alone
continue to move.

Sebastian knelt down beside her, her gaze
following him. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a knowing
clarity in her eyes, an understanding of who he was. He hadn’t
expected that given her loss of function. Within all the ruin, she
still lived; the warrior, the assassin. He knew then what he must
do.

“
You were a valiant foe, Shade. I
would give you an honorable death,” he told her, propping her head
up as he drew his sword.

Shade stared at him, but didn’t respond,
save for a wisp of drool that spilled from her open mouth to trail
wet down her chin. Sebastian didn’t wait any longer, knowing every
second prolonged her agony; a suffering he had inflicted upon her.
He stared into her eyes and slid the point of his sword up beneath
her chin, burying it in her skull. She twitched once and died, her
head lolling in his hand. Sebastian slid his sword free and set her
down gently. Blackened ooze dribbled from the wound, rolling down
her neck to form a small pool beneath her shaved head.

Sebastian stood, looking at her, and an
unexpected thought popped into his head. He wondered if the woman
believed in the One, if she had said a prayer for deliverance
before he ended her life. Once more he found himself thinking of
the life beyond this one, if there was a place for men like him. He
could find no satisfaction in her death. There was only the loss of
his father screaming out within, Shade’s end doing nothing to bring
him back. Sebastian hoped slaying the White Witch would bring him
some sense of completion, an easing of the hunger for vengeance
that growled inside. No matter, the Lord would come after the
witch.

Knowing he needed to leave if he stood a
chance of catching the White Witch still out in the field, he
couldn’t help but hesitate as he stared at Shade’s corpse. His
thoughts a muddled haze, he told himself over and over he needed to
go. If he did nothing else, he needed to finish the deed his father
had bred him for. If revenge was all that was left, his sorrowed
inheritance, he would accept it with grace and pride, as his father
would expect of him.

One last glance at Shade brought a morbid
smile to his lips. The opportunity to end his father’s mission had
suddenly become clear.

Thirty-Two

“
This is your final opportunity,
Elizabeth. Release my child and let us settle this. Free her and I
will grant your people a reprieve and let them walk away unharmed.
Continue to challenge me, however, and I will have all of their
heads mounted upon the walls of Corilea, where they will remain for
decades to come, right alongside yours,” Deborah warned. “I will
not ask you again.”

Emerald trembled. She knew well enough the
limits of her mother’s patience, and Elizabeth had pushed her far
beyond that line. Caught between the two witches, she doubted she
would survive. She could call upon her magic but Elizabeth had hers
in hand, ready to shove into Emerald’s belly. Her son squirmed
inside her, as if terrified of the heat that washed over him. She
would need to act soon if there was to be any chance at escape.

The man who carried her bag had done as she
asked, but Victor had not come for her. Though it pained her to
think it, she doubted he would. For all his courage, the sigils
would make him her mother’s slave were he to show himself. Was she
worth that risk? Was their child? She couldn’t be sure, though she
hoped he was hidden nearby, silent in the trees, waiting for the
chance to intervene. She wanted so desperately to see him, to hold
him in her arms. Her gaze drifted to her mother’s and she could see
the violence lurking just beneath the surface of her eyes.
Emerald’s time was drawing to a close.

Her hands went to her belly, caressing the
distended flesh, her thoughts on the child within. Elizabeth’s grip
tightened and Emerald could feel the tremors of the woman’s anxiety
through her breasts pressed against her back. With only Emerald to
protect the baby, she needed to act now.

Just as her mother lost her patience,
pointing and hurling insults at Elizabeth, Emerald reached out and
grabbed the witch’s wrist and drove her elbow into the woman’s
stomach. Elizabeth grunted in Emerald’s ear, her arm slipping loose
of her shoulder. The witch’s magic fluttered at her hand as Emerald
spun away, holding it away from her.

Emerald stumbled as she tried to run,
falling before the resistance witch. She heard her mother cry out
and her nostrils filled with the thick smell of brimstone.
Elizabeth growled, having caught her breath, and aimed her finger
at Emerald. Vicious heat sucked the moisture from the air as a
burst of fire roared toward her. She squeezed her eyes tight
against the coming death, and whispered sorry farewells to her son
and Victor.

The heat ended as quickly as it began.

She opened her eyes to blackness, feeling
the sensation of pressure at her face, against her belly, all about
her; it encompassed her as though she were wrapped within a cocoon.
The fury of the flames sang in her ears, echoing inside her head
until she could hear nothing else, but she felt no pain or
discomfort from their bite. A moment later the sound died away and
there was a sense of urgent movement, muffled shouts erupting all
around her.

Then unexpectedly, she could see again, the
pressure against her released. The noises of the world rushed in
and her stomach roiled at the chaos that washed over her,
overwhelming in its force. Her legs buckled but strong hands kept
her up. She looked to who held her, blinking away the brightness
that hammered at her eyes.