Mother May I (Knight Games Book 4) (21 page)

“Are you stupid? Of course not!” she snapped. “Never mind, I’m healing, but badly injured. It will take time. I cannot fight.”

I parted the branches of the spruce. Rick’s beast had taken to the sky and was attacking goblins in quick swoops to avoid their arrows, but he was growing tired. I could feel his power waning. Yes, he was immortal, but he could be imprisoned or injured beyond the loss of his memory. “Rick can’t keep this up forever. What do I do? My magic won’t work against them, and I can’t kill them all.”

“You must do the spell to challenge Hecate and you must do it now.”

I spread my hands. “I can’t! We don’t have all the elements. Elana died. We don’t even have a water witch!”

Polina grabbed my wrists. “Elana died at the hands of the witch at the top of that hill. That means Salome has access to the water element.”

I shook my head. “When I killed Tabetha, I didn’t have her power until I accepted her grimoire.”

“Elemental power isn’t created or destroyed; it just changes form. You had access to the power the moment you killed Tabetha. It would have stayed with you temporarily until another was called to rule her ward.” She pointed to the witch passed out on the hill. “If Salome is still alive, she has earth and water, and you have wood and wind.”

“And you have metal,” I said, astounded. “We have them all.”

She nodded, smiling weakly. “So, let’s go.”

“But I don’t know the spell, and I don’t have my grimoire!”

“There’s no formal spell, Grateful, only transfer of power. I’ll lend you my power, and you’ll have to take hers.”

“How do I do that?”

“You’re wasting time. Come on.” She grabbed my wrist and started limping for the hill, her right leg hanging as if it was disconnected from the joint.
Rick, I need you
. He broke from the goblins and landed clumsily by our side. I pushed her onto his back and climbed on behind her, plucking a silver arrow from his scales. They couldn’t completely pierce his armor, but several were embedded, and he was exhausted.

“Almost there, darling. Get me to the witch.”

With a rolling gallop, he took to the sky, landing next to Salome. The goblins shot at us, but the arrows couldn’t make it across the chasm. They immediately organized, climbing down, searching for a way to bridge across.

Nearby, Julius and Bathory were a blur of thrashing claws and snapping teeth. Bathory was the older vampire, but judging by the crumpled witch before me, I was the stronger witch, and Julius was bonded to me.

“Here,” Polina said frantically. “Draw the symbol.”

“What symbol?”

“The symbol of Hecate. Quickly.”

I used Nightshade to trace a circle, six feet in diameter, then copied the inner labyrinth I’d seen on the arrow fletching. The inner maze extended in three distinct sections, meeting at a wheel in the center. It was a rough approximation but I hoped accurate enough.

“What now?”

Polina stumbled into one of the three sections. “Put her in that one.” She pointed at the other section.

I dragged the earth witch into the second section. She didn’t fight me. She didn’t rouse at all, though I sensed she was alive.

Polina took one of Salome’s hands and one of mine. I took her other. “Try. Draw on my power.”

I concentrated, feeling Polina’s power leach into me, the taste of a copper penny permeating my mouth. When I tried to draw on the earth witch, I couldn’t pull so much as a puff of dust. “It’s not working. She’s not awake to give me her elements.” I stepped from my section and slapped the earth witch lightly on the cheek. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

“You’ll have to kill her,” Polina said.

“No.” I shook my head. “I won’t.”

“Grateful, you have no choice. The goblins are coming. We have to do this now.”

I looked over my shoulder. She was right. The goblins were forming a pyramid-style bridge with their bodies, hooking arms and legs to work their way across the chasm. It was a relatively slow process that involved a new goblin crawling across the heads of the first ones locked together and gripping the wall of the chasm. The bridge already reached almost halfway across. I could see a flash of platinum down the sloping terrain beyond.

“Kill her,” Polina pleaded. “She’s as good as dead anyway bonded to that thing.” She pointed at Bathory, who had pinned Julius and was trying to rip off his head. “End this.”

I looked from the goblins, to the earth witch, to the vampires. “I will end this.”

I drew Nightshade and raced from the circle, straight to Julius’s side. The distraction set Bathory off balance. Julius took the opportunity to flip her onto her back, and I didn’t hesitate.

“You b—”

Bathory’s curse was cut off as Nightshade sliced through her neck and her head bounced into the chasm. For a moment, I wondered if Julius would be angry at me, taking her life instead of giving him the pleasure, but he crawled off her body, jubilant.

“I need your help,” I said.

“Your wish—”

“Compel that witch to lend me her elements.”

“My pleasure.” He rushed to the earth witch and shook her by the shoulders.

I followed, fully aware that the first goblin had stepped over the edge and the bridge was unmaking itself, the last goblin crawling across the others toward me.

“Now, Julius!”

“She has to look at me,” he yelled.

Frantic, I slapped the witch harder without effect. A silver arrow passed between our heads—the advancing goblin shooting at us. “She needs strength. Feed her your blood.”

He did. The blood rushed over her tongue, and her eyes fluttered open. “Lend Grateful your power,” Julius commanded Salome. “You don’t have much time, Grateful; this one is running on empty.”

I took Salome’s hand, thanking Julius as he left the symbol. With Polina’s grasped in my other, I was helpless as an arrow cruised toward my head. Julius slapped it away.

“Remember our deal,” he said softly.

“I promise.” Polina’s power came to me first, the copper penny, but as her hand linked with the earth witch’s, more followed. A cool drink of water washed the penny away and the feel of cool earth under bare feet, wafted through me. The three of us started to glow, and then the wheel at the center of the symbol began to turn. The world spun, picking up speed until the light blurred and I could no longer make out either Salome or Polina.

I groaned as the spinning made my head ache like I was splitting in two, and then I saw myself standing across from me, and then another me, and another. Five versions of myself, one for each element. In the spinning circle, a pentagram of light formed, connecting each incarnation. As an arrow dissolved in the light behind my right shoulder, all that power plowed into me. I was no longer a point in the star. I was the star itself.

I pulsed with power and shattered into a million tiny pieces. When I came together again in the next breath, I was curled on my side on a soft bed of moss. I pushed myself up, rubbing my spinning head. I was in the jungle, beside a door inscribed with Hecate’s symbol.

Only Mother wasn’t here.

And the door was cracked open.

Chapter 26

Hide and Seek

I
fumbled for Nightshade, but she was no longer on my back. Neither was the sheath I carried her in or Tabetha’s wand. I’d been under the impression that if I united the elements, I’d become powerful and instantly be capable of fixing what was broken in my life. But instead of trumpeting into power, I’d been transported to Hecate’s garden.

Then I remembered the last time I was here. Hecate had said if I found her and conquered her, I’d take her place. Was this part of the spell? Did I have to traverse the maze and challenge my mother for the power I needed to set things right? It seemed a contradictory course, but what other choice did I have? I was here, with no way back except through the labyrinth.

I approached the door, hands extended to my sides and torso lowered, ready for anything. At the threshold, I paused, searching the surrounding area for something I could use as a weapon. There was nothing. Not a rock or a fallen branch. I would have to do this on my own. With a hard swallow, I stepped through the stone door, scanning the labyrinth I’d been in once before for the threat of hellhounds. Dogs didn’t attack me, but as soon as I was inside, the door slammed shut. I couldn’t budge it on my strongest day.

The stone corridor I entered was edged with roots and vines, and fire burned in giant copper bowls every hundred feet or so. The floor was dirt and the ceiling stone, although the latter sloped on both sides, ending in a thin channel of exposed sky. That sliver of the heavens changed in a heartbeat, morphing from puffy-clouded blue to pitch black. Mother knew I was here, and she didn’t like it.

“Which way?” I whispered, turning a circle. The corridor was identical in both directions. It was possible that Hecate’s symbol was an accurate depiction of her home. If that was the case, it didn’t matter which direction I went. Both led to the center, where I would find the goddess. If my intuition was to be trusted, however, this was going to be much harder than walking a maze. With a deep breath, I chose left, for no other reason than it had been the direction the hounds had come from the first time I was here.

I broke into a jog, anxious to reach the bend in the corridor, but once I was there, it simply curved again and again. I kept running. Minutes passed, maybe hours. Time had no meaning here, and every passageway looked the same. Was I going in circles? I paused. I needed a way to mark where I’d been or I couldn’t be sure. Exhausted, I reached out and leaned a hand against a thick vine that climbed the wall. As soon as I made contact, it branched beneath my touch, growing and producing a series of bright orange blossoms. I retracted my hand. The blossoms stayed.

“Magic,” I whispered, amazed at the stroke of luck. I might not have Nightshade, but I had power. The bloom was a product of the wood element within me. Could I wield all five? I turned to the nearest bowl of fire and released a short puff of air. The fire billowed. Air and wood were my intrinsic elements; what about my borrowed ones? Concentrating on the side of the copper bowl, I caused it to dip and scallop around the fire. Bingo. Next, I focused on the dirt and commanded it to pile into a small pyramid shape near my toes. Simple. I didn’t see any water to use to test my mastery of that element, but certainly, I was not weaponless here. The natural power within me was still there.

I broke into a jog again, causing the vines on either side of me to bloom along the way. When I turned down one passageway and saw my trail of blossoms at the end, my fears were realized. I was going in circles. Turning back the way I’d come, I searched for an alternative course. No visible opening presented itself.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy,” I murmured. “Time to use magic to battle magic.” I placed my hands on the wall and closed my eyes. The stone was composed of metal and earth. I asked it for help, and it answered me. I slid my hand along the wall and was surprised when my fingers trailed into empty space. An alternate passageway, with an opening only as wide as my body, was concealed under a nest of vines. The vines parted at my touch, and I squeezed through into a darker, closer corridor.

Encouraged, I ran faster through this new section, my stomach clenching at the possibility that I was taking too long, that the goblins had overtaken my friends and Rick. I tried to focus, working my way through circles and dead ends. Thirsty and out of breath, I charged into a round room with a fountain at the center. I rushed to the water and cupped it in my hands to bring to my mouth.

The water touched my lips, but I didn’t drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my reflection in the pool. My hair was a tangled mess from being buried alive, and it reminded me of Medusa, which reminded me of mythology, which reminded me of the underworld. I let the precious water drain through my fingers and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I remembered something, vaguely, about not eating or drinking anything in the underworld or it would bind you to the place forever.

Crap!
The thirst was incredible. My brain teased me with images of tall glasses of ice water, the impenetrable joy of the first sip.
I forced a dry swallow and surveyed the room, anxious to get away from the temptation.
There were five doors, each guarded by a stone statue of a hellhound. The five stone figures were gigantic, their shoulders as high as my head, and I breathed a sigh of relief that they weren’t the growling, biting kind. I chose a door at random and tried to edge around one of the statues to get to it.

No dice.

Before I could reach the door, a loud crack of stone against stone pulled me up short. The statue exploded, showering stone fragments as I dove behind the fountain for protection.

A living, breathing beast leaped from the remains of the rock casing and attacked. Razor-sharp claws swooped toward my head. I ducked and ran beneath its stomach, trying to use its size against it. In the time it took to change course, I spotted a vine on the wall near the door and commanded the plant to circle the hound’s neck. The beast kept coming, but the vine acted as a noose, tightening as it reached for me. Unfortunately, the vine was long enough for it to chase me to the opposite end of the room.

I pressed myself against the far wall, commanding the vine to retract. The heat of the hellhound’s breath hit my cheek, its tongue extending as it hung itself in its quest to destroy me. I turned my face to the side, desperately commanding the vine to retract again. It worked. Inch by inch the hound receded. I breathed a sigh of relief too soon. The creature’s left paw shot out and ripped across my chest.

“Ahh!” I screamed and clenched my jaw, flattening again against the wall. Slowly, mercifully, the beast wrenched backward, the vine dragging it up the wall next to its stone remains where it dangled helplessly.

I crossed the room to the door I’d so valiantly won only to find it locked. Pitching forward, I braced myself on my knees to catch my breath. The wound across my chest burned, I was so thirsty I couldn’t think, and I desperately wanted to sit on the floor and cry. But I didn’t. Instead, I forced myself to assess the situation.