Witches (5 page)

In fact, Katrina’s “castle” was actually a pleasant looking, faux-Tuscan country home. A meandering moat surrounded Katrina’s hill, before which was stationed a picket line of gun-toting gnomes. A few dragon bats wheeled overhead, with a full-sized dragon snoozing fitfully on a third hill some quarter-mile distant.

So, Katrina obviously didn’t want to be disturbed. Perhaps if she waited until nightfall she might sneak inside...

“My, my. What a pretty filly we have here.”

Leaping up and spinning around, sword held straight out, Tiffany was stunned to find herself confronting a centaur. His sleek horse body flowed smoothly up into a chiseled human torso and head. Grinning impishly, the young centaur looked Tiffany appreciatively up and down, seemingly oblivious to the sharp, sparking blade at his throat.

“Get out of here,” Tiffany hissed.

The centaur’s eyebrows came up. “Aren’t we a spunky human?”

While searching for a suitable reply, Tiffany watched two more male centaurs trot out of the woods some twenty feet back, forming up on either side of the first centaur. With her back to the hillside leading down to the valley before Katrina’s home, Tiffany was effectively trapped.

“And just when I thought it was going to be a boring day,” commented the second centaur. All three were young and strong, muscles rippling along both equine flanks and human chests. “I get her first.”

“Like hell!” said the first centaur. “I found her!”

“I could ride this filly all day long!” exclaimed the third horse-man.

“And you will,” said the second centaur, tail swishing eagerly from side to side. “After I have my way with her.”

Irritably, the first centaur kicked the second in the flank, knocking him back. “Listen here, I ride her first...”

“No one is riding anybody!” Tiffany snarled, swinging hard at the first centaur’s head. Nimbly, he danced out of range. “Now leave, before the evil witch sees us!”

“Oh, her.” Laughing, the third centaur dashed forward, slapping Tiffany on the rear end before easily evading her counter blow. “She doesn’t like trespassers. Especially humans.”

“Actually, humans are only good for one thing.” Ducking around her guard, the second centaur now punched the sorceress in the head, knocking Tiffany flat on the ground. “And I don’t mean conversation.” Laughing, all three creatures closed in.

They were too quick for her. Realizing she had no choice, Tiffany grabbed her earth stone, sending out a powerful pulse of pure magical energy.

All three centaurs were thrown back, desperately covering their eyes. The third centaur was catapulted over a downed trunk, while the other two were painfully bowled over some nearby rocks. Flames danced through the underbrush, licking up into nearby trees. Stones and sticks flew about. Miniature tornadoes kicked up, reeling across the small clearing. Climbing to her feet, Tiffany’s blade once more oriented on the centaurs.

Stunned, the three attackers stood once more, staring at her, wind whipping their hair and tails about. “You’re not from Meda!” shouted the first.

“You’ve singed my hair!” yelled the second.

“Pervert!” hissed the third.

“Look who’s talking,” Tiffany sighed. “Now get out of here, before the witch...”

Without warning, a ball of green light smashed into the first centaur. Shrieking in pain, he turned and bolted through the forest. Two additional rounds sent the other centaurs fleeing.

Whipping about, Tiffany found a grey-haired woman, in her early 50's, standing between two gnomes. With the retreat of the centaurs, the gnomes’ weapons now oriented on her. Katrina’s earth stone glowed powerfully.

Unsure what to do, Tiffany raised her sword again. “Hold,” she yelled. “Come no closer!”

Katrina nodded at the gnomes, who promptly opened fire. Though parrying the first two rounds, the third caught Tiffany flush on the shoulder, flooding her system with magical energy. Before losing consciousness entirely, she felt herself immersed in Katrina’s magical aura, transporting her away from the hilltop clearing.

***

TIFFANY MUST HAVE been very small, watching from below the level of the railing as her father mounted the long stairs inside the Smith family home. As usual, he was tired and irritable after a long day at work. Like most young children, Tiffany had no idea what Daddy did in Dytha City, only that it seemed like forever until he came home for dinner, and then he and Mommy would usually argue about why he hadn’t been home sooner.

Tonight, Mommy had been especially angry, lighting into Mr. Smith the second he came into the house. After a five-minute shouting match he’d been peremptorily sent upstairs to change, Mrs. Smith having no intention of dining with someone in a “dirty” work suit.

But Tiffany loved her father’s happy smile, tie hanging loosely around his now unbuttoned shirt collar. Locking eyes with his beautiful daughter, Mr. Smith would sit down on the top of the staircase while motioning Tiffany to him. Darting forward, she would snuggle against his chest, giggling with delight at the candies secreted in his suit pockets just for her. “Don’t tell Mommy,” he would whisper, pushing the hair from her face.

In later years, Tiffany would come to understand only too well the significance of his lipstick-stained neck and alcohol-tinged breath, along with the fatherly hand that crept oddly around the sensitive parts of her body.

But back then he was simply Daddy the hero, bringing a moment of relief into a young life otherwise made miserable by the screaming, unbalanced woman downstairs.

***

Before her dream-state could inevitably draw from even darker memories, Tiffany was jolted awake. She found herself staring at a bare ceiling, ensconced in fresh, white sheets, a sheen of unfamiliar magic tingling uncomfortably over exposed skin. Panicking, the sorceress sat up, immediately noting the absence of the familiar necklace. Her earth stone was gone.

“Relax, dear.” Katrina sat in the corner, earth stone glowing calmly. “You’re safe here.”

“My earth stone!” Tiffany snapped, leaping out of bed, dressed in clean sweat pants and a tee shirt. “Where is it!”

“It’s right there. On the table. Along with your clothes.”

Gratefully snatching up the powerful talisman, Tiffany slipped the silver chain about her neck. “Did you take it?”

“If I had taken it, you wouldn’t have it.” Raising an eyebrow, Katrina sighed. “As for myself, I often sleep better without it on. I thought you might feel the same way.”

“I don’t.”

“Fine.” A hard gleam came into Katrina’s eyes. “Now stop being an angry little girl and sit down. We have much to talk about.”

It was an average-sized bedroom, bare but for bed, night stand, and Katrina sitting by the door. There were no windows, just gleaming white wall. Carefully, Tiffany sat back down on the bed.

“Why are you here?” Katrina began. “I’ve had no contact with the Coven for many years.”

“There is a man, a wizard of great power, who has taken several of our sisters,” Tiffany cautiously replied. “We believe he may operate from Meda.”

“I see.” Thoughtfully, Katrina lit a cigarette. “And you think I may know something about this wizard?”

“The Coven Elders do, yes.” Tiffany paused, studying the older woman. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

“My dear, after living in Meda for a decade, nothing surprises me anymore.” Katrina smiled, bitterly. “So why sneak up on me? Why not just ask for my assistance?”

“I could just as easily ask why you sent those dragon bats to attack us last night.”

“I didn’t. Those weren’t my dragon bats.”

“And those gnomes that shot me? They weren’t yours either?”

“They were. But don’t take things so personally, dear.” Katrina took a long draw on her cigarette, sensually exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I live alone, in a dangerous world. My caution is the only thing that’s kept me alive.”

“And now? Am I your prisoner?”

“No. I have a dungeon downstairs for that.” Snapping her fingers, a window magically appeared on the wall next to Katrina, through which could be seen the guard dragon on the next hill. “Now tell me everything about this wizard.”

Tiffany briefly told of the three missing witches, along with the wizard’s letter found at the scene of Keyla’s abduction, claiming responsibility for the attacks.

“Brazen of him,” Katrina commented, peering out at the bleak Median countryside. “And this letter was written on native Median paper?”

“According to Eleanor it was,” Tiffany said. “It’s the only clue we have, other than the last known location of our lost sisters.”

Katrina raised an eyebrow. “‘According to Eleanor,’” she softly repeated. “Do I detect a lack of trust in the esteemed Council Leader?”

Drumming her fingers on the taunt bed, Tiffany looked away. “So you don’t know anything about this wizard?”

“There have been rumors of a magical man visiting Meda. He has friends here, I suspect.” Katrina considered. “His use of Median paper was a ploy to draw the Coven to Meda, where his allies could ambush you. Haven witches have less of an advantage in an openly magical world.”

“So why hasn’t he attacked you?”

“My home is well defended, as you’ve already discovered.” Sighing, Katrina’s cigarette stub magically disappeared. “But this wizard grows stronger with each victory. In time, I will be assailed as well.”

“So you’ll help me?” Tiffany asked.

A long moment went by, Katrina lighting another cigarette. “Come,” she finally announced. “Let’s get some fresh air.” Another finger snap.

An instant later, Tiffany found herself standing on Katrina’s roof, dressed in her Terran jeans, boots, and white shirt. Below could be seen the guard gnomes, the dark, foreboding Median landscape beyond.

“Tell me, dear.” Walking up beside her, Katrina’s soft, grey hair was blown back by the stiff wind. “How did you become a witch?”

For some reason she felt oddly comfortable with this intriguing, independent sorceress. And so Tiffany told of her abusive childhood, along with her rescue and recruitment into the Coven. It was an unexpectedly cathartic experience, raw emotion surging to the fore.

“So the Coven saved my life,” Tiffany concluded. “And I would imagine yours too, at one time.”

“That they did,” the older witch acknowledged. “In fact, I was scheduled to be burned at the stake the next day.”

“Burned at the stake? I don’t understand.”

“Tiffany, I was born in Salem, of the Massachusetts Colony, in 1675.”

“But that was over three hundred years ago,” Tiffany objected. “That’s not possible!”

“I see you have yet to be taken into Eleanor’s full confidence.” Smiling, Katrina expansively waved a hand at the world about them. “The Boundary cuts across both space and time. We can go any place, or any time, we choose.”

Stunned, Tiffany considered the implications. “So that means...”

“It means many things, most of which you aren’t ready for as of yet.” Katrina folded her arms. “It also means this wizard could be even more dangerous than you imagine, should he unlock the full measure of his powers.”

So magic was a key not only to the physical universe, but all of time as well? Tiffany had never heard any hint of such an ability from her age-mates. The very awareness of time travel must be reserved exclusively for the Coven Council. As a former Elder herself, of course, Katrina would know all the Coven’s secrets.

Disturbed, Tiffany turned to her hostess. “Why did you leave the Coven?”

“Tiffany, you’re still very young, and have yet to learn the full extent of the Coven’s activities,” she softly replied. “My...concerns, shall we say, finally got the better of me. As yours may too, someday.”

The rogue witch’s words hit home. “I see,” Tiffany breathed, once more looking away.

“But that discussion is for another time.” Now Katrina placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Yes, I will help you locate this wizard. I will also nurse your companion back to health, and make sure she gets back safely to Haven.”

“Thank you.”

“But I am too old for combat,” she continued, stepping away. “My days of gallivanting around the universe, eradicating evil, are long gone.”

“I understand.”

“But you underestimate this wizard. He is a being of great power, a warrior, consumed by a nearly uncontrollable rage.” Eschewing her magic, Katrina now dropped the cigarette, viciously grinding it underneath her heel. “If you’re going to beat him, I need to show you how to really fight. I will teach you how to survive in the real world.”

***

Standing mutely in the stone passageway, eyes squeezed shut, the wizard prepared himself. Clasping the black talisman, he then extended his magical aura into the three dank cells.

Deprived of their earth stones, the imprisoned witches were powerless as their jailer magically crawled over their dirty, exposed skin. Miserably, they swiped at the air, crying out for him to desist.

Slowly, almost delicately, he penetrated the mind of the one they called Bethany, clamping down on her visual nerves. Letting her wallow in shrieking, terrifying blindness, he then caused Danielle to imagine the rats once more, eating her alive one limb at a time. Keyla was more stoic, the redhead fighting the pressure on her chest and stomach until her breathing stopped completely, the magician relenting only when she was about to pass out.

At this, the wizard could stand his own excitement no more. “You whores!” he bellowed, stalking around the corner to view his victims directly, smashing a heavy iron rod into the dungeon grates. “You will show me respect!”

“Never,” gasped Keyla, struggling to her feet within the cell, hand held to her stomach. “I will never do that.”

The wizard’s eyes went wide. “She already has!” Causing Bethany’s door to crash open, he dragged the miserable brunette out in front of Keyla’s cell, throwing the still-blind witch down hard on the stone floor. “I’ve had her many times. She begs me for it! As will you.”

By flickering torchlight, Keyla studied her wretched, crying sister at the madman’s feet. Bethany was only 19 years old, the first of the Coven to be taken by the wizard. Now painfully thin, she was barely recognizable with her bruised face and filthy rags. Shrieking at the top of her lungs, Bethany stared sightlessly about.