Witches (3 page)

For the sorceress’ themselves, adjusting to a completely different culture, and the specific dangers therein, took time and experience. Thus, each witch had to receive the approval of the Coven Elders before entering a hitherto unknown place, under the guidance of a more seasoned Coven-mate. In fact, witches were forbidden from even knowing the names of dimensions they weren’t yet permitted to visit. Since the hummingbirds would only take a witch somewhere if she could specifically tell them where to go, the stricture effectively blocked unauthorized travel.

Tiffany wasn’t sure how many outer worlds her sisters regularly visited. For her own part, she’d been to only four; Earth, in which she’d set up semi-permanent residence as a crisis counselor; Peth, a sparsely populated region featuring both magic and light technology; Rasten, a chaotic dimension where the Coven actively maintained the peace; and her birth world of Dytha, a futuristic society spread out among an entire solar system.

Raised on Dytha’s second planet, Tiffany’s father, a rich businessman, had become steadily more abusive toward his family. Sixteen years ago, after her mother was thrown down a stairwell, they’d been rescued by the Coven.

Finally, the mist thickened again, obliterating the landscape entirely. The unicorn and deer ambled out of earshot, while only a single hummingbird remained hovering right before Tiffany’s face. Finally, this last guide gave a satisfied chirp, rubbing up against her cheek before flying away. Taking a deep breath, Tiffany then took another dozen paces on her own, straight ahead, the fog dissipating to reveal an early morning forest. She was home.

Picking her way down a hillside, Tiffany made her way into the village itself, which sat beside a small river. As far as she knew, Haven consisted entirely of this large, pleasant valley and the surrounding mountains that bordered it on three sides. Down river was a broad, grassy plain, the water emptying out into a vast ocean. In every direction the mist quickly closed in, either transporting an experienced witch to another domain, or guiding a lost girl back to the village proper.

As a hub for an untold number of worlds, Haven was greatly varied in style and culture. Architecture ranged from the mundane to the exotic, usually reflecting the tastes of the occupant’s original land. As there were no vehicles to speak of, save a few wagons for transporting supplies from surrounding fields, streets consisted merely of soft grass. Food was plentiful, available through open-air markets and cafes. A huge, modern library provided books and computer access to the entire universe, a stern-eyed Elder ensuring each woman could only view information from the worlds she had been officially acquainted with.

Three types of people were encountered in Haven. Women of the Coven, empowered young girls in training to become a full sorceress, and the girl’s mothers, who had been rescued with their daughters by the Coven from abusive situations.

Generally, victimized mothers stayed in Haven temporarily, returning to a new life in their original world once their offspring reached 18. Upon leaving Haven for good, however, an Elder would wipe specific memories of the magical land from a woman’s mind. All that was retained were impressions of a safe, happy place, where she and her daughter had recovered and found their true destiny. Empowered daughters then traveled freely back and forth to their birth world, visiting their mothers often.

Alone among her sisters, Tiffany wasn’t in contact with her own mother, crossing back into Dytha only when business required.

Leaving the wood line, Tiffany strode into the outer town. As usual, flowers and plants of all varieties were on display. Pausing to chat with a woman whom she’d rescued three years before, Tiffany then stopped at her favorite pastry shop, where she quickly scanned the latest
Haven Times
. Run by a former newspaper editor, the eight-page weekly gave a rundown of all the latest happenings in town, including crop yields, poetry readings, art exhibits, and such. There was also a small section announcing arrivals and departures of victims and their daughters.

Given Susan’s bizarre warning, Haven seemed surprisingly, yet typically, idyllic. Thoughtfully picking up a box of croissants, Tiffany sauntered over to her own home, two blocks off the main street.

Since coming of age, Tiffany had shared this ultramodern house with two other girls, Keyla and Resa. Constructed entirely of shaded green and blue glass that absorbed sunlight, it bathed the inner living space in clean, natural illumination.

Pushing through the unlocked front door, however, Tiffany was instantly assailed by a desperate fear. Stunned by the extent of her housemate’s distress, she ran upstairs to find Resa sitting back against the wall of her bedroom, legs pulled up to her chest.

“Resa!” Sitting down beside her, Tiffany took the small blonde girl by the hand. “What’s the matter?”

“She’s gone, Tiff.” Eyes wide, Resa slowly shook her head. “He has her.”

“Who’s gone? What are you talking about?”

“Keyla. The wizard took her.” Gasping, Resa drew herself up even tighter. “That man will take us all, and I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it.”

***

“So that’s the situation,” Eleanor concluded, grimly looked out at her fellow witches. “If you have any questions, now is the time to ask.”

All seven Elders, in their traditional white robes, sat on the raised dais behind a large oak table. Before them sat six younger women, including Tiffany. As was the custom in the twenty-something generation, all six wore Terran-style jeans and boots.

“So our three sisters are gone?” asked April, sitting next to Tiffany.

“We’re not entirely sure,” admitted Eleanor, the Council Leader, motioning to the Elder beside her. “However, Barbara can usually sense when one of our kind dies, no matter what world they’re in, and she has not felt anything amiss. So we believe our sisters are still alive.”

“They’re captives, pawns of this man.” Another of the young witches, Zandra, just a year older than Tiffany, shook her head in disgust. “That is intolerable.”

“Indeed it is.” A steely edge permeated Eleanor’s voice, the Coven Leader pushing a lock of white hair back from her eyes. “Which is why the six of you are here.”

Only thrice, in the seven years since reaching her majority, had Tiffany been in the presence of the Coven Council. Composed of seven women who’d worn their earth stones for a least a quarter-century, the council was elected every six years by all witches over the age of 30. It was a system designed to maintain the status quo, deliberately choking off official dissent from the younger members of the Coven.

The Council, of course, also controlled access to the other worlds, deciding which Coven member could travel where. As far as Tiffany was concerned, the entire scheme gave the illusion of democracy, when in fact the Elders, and the Council Leader in particular, ruled the Coven with an iron fist.

“But I don’t understand.” Urgently leaning forward, another of Tiffany’s age-mates, a pretty blonde named Brooke, pounded a fist into her palm. “How can there even be a wizard? Men cannot wield magic. This should not even be possible!”

“Which is all the more reason why we need to find and kill this man,” added another of the Elders.

Stunned, the younger women looked at each other. “But we don’t do that,”

April objected. “We’ve never actually killed anyone!”

“Not officially, anyway,” murmured Tiffany, staring up at the Council Leader.

After a moment of uncomfortably silence, Eleanor continued. “We have the moral right to act in self-defense. You six are the strongest of your generation. You can stop this sorcerer. And you will. ”

“Yes, but...” began Brooke.

“The Council is agreed,” Eleanor continued. “We will form three partnerships here today. Brooke and Amber, April and Marissa, Zandra and Tiffany. Together, you will seek out and destroy this threat.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, Eleanor letting her eyes fall on each of the younger women in turn.

“So we’re the shock troops.” Tiffany spoke softly, yet her voice resonated throughout the room.

“If you like.” Eleanor now turned her blazing gaze to her. “The Coven is under attack. Our sisters are in peril. We need to act.”

“The natural balance must be maintained,” murmured Agnes, at 107 the oldest member of the Coven, an earth stone pulsing weakly near her wizened throat.

“But this man is powerful,” objected Amber, nervously brushing back her auburn hair. “How can we...”

“Our sisters were taken alone and unawares,” Eleanor declared. “Working together, you will cut out this cancer before more damage is done.”

“But we know next to nothing!” objected Marissa. As with the other five witches summoned before the council, she was strong and fit, confidently looking at each Elder in turn. “How do we even find this man?”

“We think he operates in two worlds, Fortura and Meda,” Eleanor said.

Almost as if an obscenity had been uttered, the younger women shrank back. One did not simply throw about the names of other worlds unless everyone present had been cleared to go there. Amber and April looked at each other in alarm.

“Don’t be shocked, ladies,” the Coven Leader continued. “Some of you are familiar with these worlds, some aren’t. But you need to know of their existence, because you’re going there now.”

***

“Tiffany, a word.”

Each lost in their own thoughts, both the Elders and younger, would-be female avengers wandered out behind the council building into a sprawling garden. Now turning about, Tiffany saw that Eleanor had followed her down a path bordered by dozens of different flowers and plants.

“Of course,” Tiffany carefully replied, letting the older woman fall into slow step beside her.

“I don’t mind telling you, Tiffany, that you’re something of an enigma to us.”

“How so?”

“You obviously harbor doubts. Resentments.” The senior sorceress paused, letting her hand rest briefly on an exotic flower. “Some have even come to question your loyalty to the Coven.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” A small brook ran along the back of the garden, before which sat a bench. Deliberately leaving Eleanor’s side, Tiffany walked over and took a seat, coolly looking up at the Council Leader. “However, that being the case, why am I being involved in this mission at all?”

“A fair question.” Strolling over, Eleanor sat beside her. “To be frank, we need you.”

“Why? There are fifty other girls you could be sending after this man.”

“This is no time for false modesty.” Eleanor’s steely, grey eyes locked on her own. “You are the strongest young witch we have, and you know it.”

“Please.” Irritably, the brunette looked away.

“Think of all the good work we do in the outer worlds, the people we help,” Eleanor continued. “This wizard could force us to retreat from all that, to stay bottled up here in Haven.”

“All our ‘good work,’” Tiffany softly repeated. “You mean, like the good work you did with my father?”

For a time both women stared out at the idyllic garden. Beyond its borders could be seen a dazzling field of sunflowers, forming a breathtaking vista leading to the foothills a mile beyond.

“Ah. I see.” Sighing, Eleanor leaned back. “So now it’s finally out in the open.”

“My father,” Tiffany carefully began, ”is dead as a result of all the ‘good work’ we do in the outer worlds.”

“Is that so?” Thoughtfully, Eleanor studied the younger woman. “As I understand it, your father walked off a cliff in a drunken stupor.”

“After my mother and I were taken away from him!”

“You were given sanctuary here. To heal. So he couldn’t abuse the two of you any more.”

“Yes, but...” Helplessly, Tiffany rubbed her eyes. “What if my father wanted to be a better man? What if we made it impossible for him...”

“My dear girl. Listen to me very carefully.” Eleanor’s earth stone flared briefly, scaring off a meandering bee. “I was the one who imbued your father with our essence, allowing you to acquire our magical power.”

Tiffany said nothing, staring off into space.

“We did not make him abusive. He was that way already. I merely gave you the means to resist him, and all men like him.” The older witch paused. “I did not cause his demise. Nor, more importantly, did you.”

“I wish...” Tiffany paused, angrily shaking her head. “I wish I could be as sure.”

“Your father was rich. No one would have intervened,” Eleanor softly continued. “Would you have rather been left in that man’s power, to be victimized at his whim?”

Taking a deep breath, Tiffany said nothing.

“My dear.” Hesitantly, the Council Leader placed a hand on her arm. “This is a crisis unlike anything we’ve ever faced. We’re being hunted. I don’t even want to think about what this wizard is doing to our sisters right now. You need to put your doubts aside. You must be focused.”

“I understand.” Sitting up, Tiffany dislodged Eleanor’s hand. “So when do we leave?”

“Immediately.” The Council Leader stood. “You and Zandra will cross over into Meda. There’s a witch, a former Coven Elder, who lives there. She might know something about this man.”

***

Emerging from the Boundary in a dense pine-like grove, Tiffany and Zandra listened intently, hands on sword hilts. All seemed quiet, save for the faint sound of birds in the distance.

“All right.” Relaxing, Tiffany turned to her companion. “Let’s try to find some cover...”

Angrily, Zandra held up a hand, demanding silence. Whispering an incantation, the sorceress closed her eyes, concentrating, earth stone pulsing a dark green.

Tiffany waited, looking uneasily at the alien foliage and strange, purple rocks. Luckily, Zandra was a Median native. The muscular witch was also an expert at sensory extension, allowing her to hear, smell, and see for miles, with the appropriate magical assistance.

Both women were dressed to blend in, wearing leather clothing of tan Median hues, while armed with swords and short daggers. In the hands of a trained sorceress, the bladed weapons could focus great power.