The Witch (17 page)

There was more blood. Blood everywhere.

Whose? Hers? Her neck burned.

He opened his mouth and the small amount of light surrounding them reflected off his teeth.

Just before he sank those teeth deeper into her neck.

She fought.

But they both knew it wasn’t going to do a damned bit of good.

Every cell in her body was burning when she next regained consciousness. She held herself together with nothing more than sheer determination. Loren held on; somehow, she did it.

Jushua was there, but she could not get to him. She could hear him and sense him…somewhere. Possibly nearby. Trying to get to her.

So was Dekimos, but he was equally as inaccessible.

And there was only the light from the sorcerer in front of her for her to see by.

The only being she could touch was the sorcerer. The broken one. “Who are you?”

She knew he wasn’t evil; did Deki? Jushua?

Something separated her from the two men, something held her to him.

The man from her visions, premonitions, whatever they were.

“Brother.” He rasped the word and she struggled to understand. The old language, the one of her people from so long ago. But even that was accented, ancient. Far more than five thousand years old. “Twin.”

“No shit.” They were identical, but this one was emaciated, and pale, sickly. Once there would have been power, but she had no difficulty sensing that his reservoirs were nearly depleted. “What were you doing in there?”

“Trapped. Locked by Haliophux. Sacrificed.” His fingers dug into her skin. “Kill me, now. Set
him
free.”

“He’s already free.”

“Not my brother. But theirs…”

With that, he collapsed at her feet—directly upon her sword. It pierced his abdomen, but he didn’t so much as make a sound. Had it been deliberate?

His tears were even silent ones. But he did not move, did not react to what had to be utter agony.

Loren dropped to her knees beside him, and pushed her dwindling power to surround the sword.

Try to minimize the damage as much as possible. Dekimos was the first to breach the rubble barrier and get to her. He yanked her against his chest and held her. Loren pulled away, then pointed to the mostly dead Laquazzeana at her feet.

“Heal him. Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

Dekimos looked at him, then her, for a long moment but he didn’t question. “I am not sure I can do that.”

“He’s not him. I promise this. I can see it. We have to help him if we’re ever going to have any answers. It’s why I am here.”

Jushua pulled her to her feet and away from the sorcerer. He kissed her, hard, and Loren wanted nothing more than to cling to him.

But that wasn’t what she was supposed to do. Not now. She dropped to her knees and placed her hand over the man’s heart. His eyes opened, his hand wrapped around her wrist.

And they were sucked away, straight through a barrier between worlds. She screamed, someone yelled her name. Only this time…she was not the one pulling the others through.

And then it was total white, so white she could not keep her eyes opened. It burned.

And then they crashed to the ground somewhere. And Loren couldn’t breathe.

Was afraid she’d never breathe again.

She landed hard.

Surrounded by power, held to the creature she had found’s soul. Her and Dekimos.

She knew what he was, and had from the moment the white had cleared around them. Laquazzeana, and an extremely ancient one, at that. They all
three
were—the Ancient, Dekimos…and her.

She had
never
truly died five thousand years ago, had just been cursed by the Dark Sorcerer.

That would take some serious getting used to.

Power was radiating from the Ancient, in every color of the spectrum. So much that she was having an extremely hard time even finding her own amidst it. Whenever she’d try she’d be knocked back down.

Was he unconscious? Was that why he couldn’t seem to control it any longer? Her hand went to the puncture holes in her neck. Had he possibly stolen some of her gifts? She tried once again to find her feet, to get away from him. To just stop damned touching him long enough to get to some space between them.

That so wasn’t happening. She closed her eyes, and that’s when she felt the world around her right itself a little. Enough that she wasn’t going to throw up…again. She wasn’t entirely certain she’d not heaved a few times during the trip from Evalanedea to Thrun.

And they were definitely back in Thrun. In the very center of Jade’s cousin’s garden.

She’d been able to bend the barriers between worlds since she was seventeen, but the ease with which this creature had managed it while nearly dead terrified her. She didn’t know how he’d done it, or much of anything else in that moment.

Other than the absolute certainty that taking him back to Thrun with them had been exactly what she was meant to do. Or had
he
pulled her, Deki, and Jushua back with
him
?

He was where he was meant to be.

And she was still alive. As was Jushua…and Dekimos.

What had happened to Deki, anyway?

Loren forced her eyes open and searched for Jushua’s brother.

He was shaking on the ground not more than three feet away from her. She reached for him, fearing that she’d not be able to break through whatever hold the Ancient had on her. But that wasn’t so. Deki was on the same side of the barrier as she. Why? Why had he picked her and Deki and not Jushua? Or had it just happened that way when the fell through the world barrier?

When her hand wrapped around his, Deki’s eyes opened. He stared at her, then rolled to his side. He tried to stand. “Hold him down. He’s needs the connection or he’ll fucking explode. With his strengths he might take the two of us with him.”

Loren did as he said. “What is he?” She had to shout for him to hear her.

“I don’t know!”

“He looks just like the Dark Sorcerer!”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed!”

“You sure he’s not him?” Loren knew he wasn’t, but she had to make sure, didn’t she? “What are we supposed to do?” She tried getting up again, but fell, this time landing on top of the man’s chest. She could feel the muscles beneath his ragged shirt, but he looked half-dead. He opened his eyes, and they were empty blue. Not the green of the Dark Sorcerer. That reassured her. Some.

Loren leaned closer.

He grabbed her again. Dekimos pulled his hand off of Loren’s shoulder. “Go. Get away from him. I’ll do it.”

“I can’t. Something is holding me here.” She tried to crawl away from the man, but whatever his power was, it was holding her to his side.

Jushua was there, so close to her. But Loren couldn’t touch him. He was pounding on the barrier with both fists, his fear for her and his brother on his handsome face. She wanted to go to him so badly but couldn’t. Dear Jushua, so strong and brave. Bold and arrogant.

But so loving and afraid to lose those he cared about.

“We need to contain him, if the power within him explodes, it can take down the entire city.”

Dear Fates, Loren hadn’t even considered that. “What are we supposed to do?”

Jushua’s hands were bloodied, but he didn’t stop. Nothing was going to keep him from getting to his brother and his female. But what force was it that kept him from them? Had the Dark Sorcerer trapped them with his body? Why? Had Loren been wrong when she claimed him not the Dark Sorcerer? And how did he get through it?

People were coming, running toward where they were.

Nalik, Renakletos and the warrior woman Aureliana, others. Those damned Laquazzeana, Phaenna the Crazy One, others who were strong and sure and able to protect against most any threat.

But the man on the ground between his brother and Loren wasn’t just any threat.

Nalik pulled him away from the barrier, and only one as strong as his reborned brother would be able to manage it. Jushua still fought. “Let me go!”

His mother was there. Jushua yelled at someone—the healer girl Bronwen—to get her away. She did not need to see what was happening. She did not need to see the Dark Sorcerer look-alike.

Her mother was there, too. A small defenseless human terrified for her child. Jushua hurt for her, too. Someone pulled her away, but he did not see who.

“We cannot force ourselves upon the barrier of the ancients. Good way to get our asses burned!” Phaenna was in front of him, holding one slim dark hand up. Her own power was there for him to see.

Holding him back.

Why was everyone trying to keep him from Loren? “Let me through!”

“No. It is not your fate.”

“She is my fate!”

“And this is hers!”

Jushua didn’t fucking care. “Let me through to her.”

“Don’t you think I would if I could?” Phaenna was right there in his face, and for the first time he saw something in her that led to a bit of understanding.

There was grief.

Why?

“I hurt for the changes that are to come. But this man…he needs to be here now. Look at the power from him. Just look. Do you think that such power would be strong enough to counter that of the
real
Dark Sorcerer? Do you?”

Jushua looked at what she saw. What everyone was seeing. Light in every color emanated from the fallen man, and it encompassed both Loren and his brother. Light, not darkness. Could it be that simple?

“Loren is doing what it is she must. Dekimos, too. But the Fates have more in store for them. Neither dies this day.” Phaenna’s tone was almost soothing. It did nothing but grate on Jushua’s ears. “But both will be changed.”

“I need to get to her.”

“And she just needs to know that you’ll try.”

“I’ll do more than just try.” He pushed past the Laquazzeana and yelled. “Nalik! I need behind that shield. Get me to my female!”

His reborned brother would understand. Nalik had his own female.

But no matter what they tried, no one could break the barrier.

Jushua kept clawing at it.

Loren felt the pulse of power from outside the barrier, and it helped. Enough for her to get to her feet, anyway. Dekimos, too. “We need to do something. If they break through too soon, we’ll not be able to get his power back into him where it belongs.”

“You think that is what it is?”

“I think something has been trapped within him for so long that having it released has damaged any control he may have had.”

“And this is the result?”

“I think it is!” They were yelling, but no one else seemed to hear them. Was the barrier soundproof, as well? “How do we get his power back within him?”

“Depends on how it got into him in the first place.”

“No way to know!”

Dekimos looked at her, from eyes that were just like Jushua’s. “How did you get yours? We both know you are as Laquazzeana as he. As am I.”

Loren thought for a moment, then put her hands over the wound in the Ancient where the sword had been.

The Sword of Estacles was there no longer. Where had it gone? Loren looked around. She saw it, just outside the barrier. “I do not know. Is it even true?”

“Look at your hands. Really look. Do you not see the light from within you? Let it guide you. Now!”

Loren followed his instructions. That was when she saw it; when she knew…

Purple light surrounded her skin. Pale green surrounded Deki. At first she’d thought the light was just more that was coming from the Ancient. But now she knew the truth. “I think we need Estacles’ sword.”

“And how do we get that? If the Ancient is holding us in, we will have to stop him somehow.”

“Or have them do it.” Power was hitting the barrier still. And with each blow from Nalik Black’s hands Loren could feel it thinning. “We need to tell the other Laquazzeana what to do, Deki! But how?”

Jushua didn’t have any power, nothing like the Laquazzeana surrounding him, but he had his damned hands. And if that was what it took to get her, then he’d batter the damned barrier until there was nothing left of it, or nothing left of him. “Get to her, Black. Get to them.”

“We’re trying here. This isn’t exactly something we’ve done before.”

“Or can do alone.” His mother stepped through the crowd, and brushed a healing hand over Jushua’s knuckles. “I will not break from seeing this man. I have dreamt of the Dark Sorcerer every night for five thousand years. I can face him again to save my son.”