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Authors: Paula Brackston

The Witch’s Daughter (45 page)

BOOK: The Witch’s Daughter
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‘Bess,’ he said, making the end of her name sound like a hissing snake, ‘or would you prefer Eliza? Elise? Elizabeth?’ There was that dangerous smile again.

Elizabeth seemed taller than usual. Now I could see that her feet didn’t touch the ground. She was levitating, just about a foot or so, but it made her well taller than him. When she spoke, her voice was different. Sort of louder but not harsh. Like a giant bell that’s been rung and the sound still hangs in the air.

‘It matters not what you choose to call me, Gideon. I am your nemesis.’ There was a calmness about her. A strength I hadn’t seen before.

‘My dear, you do like to try to provoke me, don’t you? All these years I have done my utmost to help you realize you are my true bride, and all you can do is think of my destruction.’

‘You will be destroyed, Gideon. Too many people have been harmed because of you. I won’t allow it to continue, not in my name.’ She glanced over at me. Gideon noticed.

‘How it must have tortured you to know that I had seduced your new little friend,’ he said. ‘Were you jealous, Bess? Did you envy her or me? I wonder.’

‘Leave the girl alone. You have caused her more than enough pain already.’

‘She was’—he started to wave a hand in my direction—‘a pleasant diversion, though a little ingénue for my taste. What did you think I would do with her? Besides the obvious, I mean. Which, I have to say, she enjoyed very much.’ As he spoke, I could feel this terrible cold cover me, like I was under an avalanche. I started to shiver. My teeth began to rattle in my head. I could tell by the look on Elizabeth’s face that something bad was going down. I looked at my hands and screamed. They were all wrinkled and shriveled, like an old crone. I pulled up my sleeve; my arms were the same. I felt my face. It was all sagged with deep wrinkles all over it. I was so close to panicking. Then Elizabeth raised her staff. She banged it on the ground and pointed it at me. And it stopped. Whatever Gideon was doing to me, it stopped. Just like that. My skin went back to normal. The coldness went. As if it had never happened. I so wanted to run. But somehow I stayed.

‘Why, Bess, I am impressed. You must have been practicing. And here I was thinking you had shunned your magic. Could it be that you have at last given up trying to pretend you are not a witch, eh?’

‘It was not being a witch I rejected. It was being empowered by you. A witch born of a warlock’s magic is cursed, you know that.’

‘I so dislike the name
warlock.’

‘It is what you are. No good witch, female or male, would do what you do. Your power should be a force for good, or have you forgotten that?’

‘Should, shouldn’t … how can one apply rules to such a thing as magic, Bess?’ He began to drift upward, then lay down in midair, as if he was on a sofa, resting on one elbow. ‘You know it still isn’t too late—you could join me. You know how powerful we would be together. You have tasted a little of that power, and I think you rather like it, don’t you? Of course, you are not going to admit it.’ He sighed. ‘There is a prim streak in you, Bess, that is really most unappealing.’

‘You are wrong, Gideon, it is too late. Much too late.’

Behind Elizabeth, the woods began to move, to heave and twist, as if all the trees were coming alive, as if they were pulling at their roots, trying to get free. A thin, cold wind started whistling through the branches. It seemed to come from nowhere, but of course it didn’t. It was Elizabeth who summoned it up. Now the trees started swaying and lurching all in unison, as if they were dancing. It was the most incredible sight, the whole forest alive and moving because Elizabeth willed it. I found myself standing completely still, as if I had sprouted roots while the trees had abandoned theirs. I wondered, for a second, if Elizabeth had bewitched me too. Had she cast some sort of protection around me, maybe? It was odd, but I didn’t feel like running away anymore. I was where I was meant to be.

The ground started to tremble, then shake. Dry leaves flew up in a whirlwind of rustling, bronze and gold glinting under the supernatural moonlight. At last the trees broke free! One or two at first, and then more and more. Huge oaks and ash trees and all types, their trunks sucking in and out as if they were breathing, their great branches reaching forward as they marched toward Gideon. Elizabeth held her ground as they advanced, letting them stomp past her, closer and closer. Gideon didn’t move. He didn’t so much as register surprise. He waited. Waited until the trees were so very close, almost close enough to reach out and smash him with their enormous limbs. Almost but not quite. He put his hands on his hips, threw his head back, chest puffed out, and drew in a deep breath. One of the biggest oaks was level with him now, and for a moment I thought Gideon had mistimed things badly and that he was about to be hammered into the ground, but I should have known better. Should have known
him
better. He exhaled, sending his foul-smelling breath forward with an ear-shattering roar. It wasn’t human, that breath, and it wasn’t just air, either. It was yellow and sulfurous and rancid, and it came out with a force you could never imagine. A force that blew all those trees, all those mighty oaks, hundreds of years old and weighing God knows how much—it blew them all back into the forest as if they were straws. And it blew Elizabeth with them. She was knocked backward, flung through the air, and landed awkwardly against some of the fallen trees. At the exact same moment, I felt myself freed. Freed and exposed, as if whatever protection Elizabeth had constructed around me had been broken. I turned to run to her, to help her, but suddenly the sky went black, as if the bright moon had been blotted out by something. I looked up and wished I hadn’t when I saw what was gathering above me. Bats, thousands of them. And not just harmless little pipistrelles. These things were huge, bigger than crows, and they shrieked as they began to swoop down. I barely had time to cry out before they were on me. They knocked me down and clutched at me with their unnaturally sharp claws. I tried to beat them off, but there were too many. One bit my hand, its fangs cutting straight through the skin and deep into the flesh. I wanted to scream, but they were after my face, my eyes, everywhere. And through it all, I could hear Gideon laughing. Laughing! One tried to latch onto my throat with its hideous vampire fangs. I thought it was going to get me. I couldn’t see a way out, but then there came another sound. More shrieking. No,
screeching.
Owls! They came from nowhere, hundreds of them, glowing white with their own light, scything through the swarm of bats, snatching them from the sky. More and more came. The bats were terrified and tried to get away, but the owls were too many and too quick. Now I could see Elizabeth standing again, her staff raised, commanding the owls.

At last the sky cleared again, and the moonlight returned. I wiped blood from my cheek and grabbed a length of ivy, wrapping it tightly around my hand to stop the flow from the painful bat bites.

‘Why are you wasting your energies, Bess?’ Gideon shook his head, like he was telling off a naughty child. ‘You must know I would never have equipped you with sufficient power to prove a real threat. I have far more of an instinct for self-preservation than you credit me with. Do you really think I would have created a witch with the ability to kill me?’

Elizabeth didn’t answer. I could see her lips moving, really fast, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. There were weird sounds now. Like voices. Or singing. No, not singing, chanting. And all through it, that bastard kept on smiling his sickly smile.

Her words were drowned out by the howling wind and by the chanting. Then I noticed these shapes among the trees. People. No, women. No, witches. Four, five, six, seven … a dozen of them, I think. It was hard to count, they slipped out from behind the trees and began whirling about in the clearing. Gideon frowned. He didn’t look frightened, more pissed off.

‘Welcome, my sisters!’ Elizabeth greeted the other witches as they flew about. Gideon stood scowling at her as these fabulous creatures darted about the place. These weren’t old hags, not witches out of fairy tales. They were beautiful, all dressed in shimmering colors, their hair streaming, all with the same fantastic glow radiating from them, like the brightest fireworks. They were glorious. Elizabeth was really pleased, really touched that they had come to help her; you could see it on her face. I’ve never seen her look so happy.

‘You foolish creature,’ Gideon was yelling at her now. ‘You think I can’t deal with a few dried up harridans?’ He sent one of them sprawling and knocked another against a tree. ‘Did you really think this sorry mother coven of yours could kill me?’ he screamed.

He was so powerful and so mad by now that I was really scared. He was hurling those lovely witches about as if they were dolls. Smashing them, breaking them, as if they were nothing. No matter how fast they moved or how much they used their magic, he was too strong for them. And still they whirled about him, dancing, flying, chanting. I couldn’t understand it. It was almost as if they knew they stood no chance, and yet they kept on and on, making him madder and madder. Then Elizabeth rushed at him. Straight at him! She got so close—too close. Gideon grabbed her and held her up, choking her.

‘I had not imagined you would be so foolish, Bess,’ he spat at her. ‘So foolish as to truly believe you could overpower me, you and your feeble crones.’

I ran at him. I couldn’t help myself. He was squeezing the life out of her. I had no idea what I was going to do, I just knew I couldn’t stand there and watch him throttle her. I snatched up a rock as I went and swung it at his head. He had been so focused on poor Elizabeth I actually caught him with his guard down, and the stone hit him hard, right on the back of his skull. He staggered, just for a fleeting second, and loosened his grip. Elizabeth seized her moment and got away. Then he turned on me. I was lying practically at his feet. That was the moment I thought I was going to die. He was steaming with rage, roaring at me, cursing and spitting, his eyes flaming. Before I had time to wonder what he would do next, I felt a searing pain in my shoulder, as if a fireball had exploded against me. I screamed—I know I must have, it hurt so much—but I don’t remember hearing the sound. Just this terrible sizzling noise as the magic fire burned into my flesh. Elizabeth rushed to my side. She placed her hand on my shoulder, and the burning stopped. It still hurt and I could smell the revolting stink of burning flesh. My burning flesh. Elizabeth sprang up, high into the air, and circled around Gideon with dizzying speed.

All the witches formed a circle around me, protecting me. Looking up, I could see Gideon and Elizabeth flying, hurtling around the enclosure, exchanging phosphorous blasts and spears of flame. One of the other witches, a girl not much older than me, touched my wound. At last the pain stopped completely, but I could feel raised lumps and knew the scar was mine to keep. The witches started to move away from me, to go to Elizabeth’s aid, but she shouted at them to stay with me and protect me.

It didn’t take long for Gideon to bring her down. She crashed onto the smoldering woodland floor and lay there, totally still. Everything went quiet, deathly quiet. No wind, no howling or crashing or screaming or wailing anymore. Just this awful lifeless hush. Had he killed her? Was that it? Could that really be the end? Nobody moved—none of the witches, not even Gideon, who was now standing a few yards away from where she lay.

‘Elizabeth?’ I called, my own voice hoarse and breaking. ‘Elizabeth!’

Then there was this tiny movement. Not Elizabeth but the ground beside her. It seemed to stir. Then, silently, slowly, a shape rose up from the leaves and plants. It twirled and spun about, growing, still noiselessly, gently shifting and pulsating until it formed into a woman. Another witch. This one was tall and slender and looked a little older than some of the others. She wore flowing, soft robes the color of the darkened woodlands, all smudges and bruises. She leaned over Elizabeth and touched her tenderly.

‘Bess,’ she said, her voice like a crystal wind-chime moving in the breeze. ‘Bess, my child, wake up.’

Elizabeth stirred. She moaned and opened her eyes. She struggled to focus for a little while, and then she saw who it was that had called her name.

‘Mother!’ Her voice was weak, but there was no mistaking the joy in it. Her mother had come to her. After so many, many years.

Elizabeth tried to get up. ‘There, Bess, there,’ her mother said, brushing her daughter’s hair from her face, gazing at her with such love, such pride.

‘Mother, I am sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘I was never as strong as you were. Never as good.’

‘Hush. You have nothing to be sorry for, Bess. It is I who should beg your forgiveness, for ever placing you in the hands of such a monster.’

‘You were trying to save me, that is all.’

‘And instead, look what you have endured. What you have suffered for so very long. On your own.’

‘No, Mother. I knew you were always there beside me.’ Elizabeth stood up now, and the two women embraced. And as they did so, the light went back into her—you could see it. You could see the strength and the magic pouring from the older woman into her daughter, filling her up, making her whole and healed again.

Gideon was clearly fuming that she had found someone capable of helping her.

‘I lose patience with this mother-daughter reunion,’ he said. ‘You, Anne Hawksmith, you would have us all believe you did what you did from the very best of motives. Out of love as a mother for her child, nothing more. Well, I saw how you took to the magic I showed you, Witch, do not forget that. I saw how you lapped it up, how you reveled in it, just as your sorceress of a daughter does. As she always has. This false piety sickens me. The two of you were born for magic, for celebrating the dark arts. In your souls you both know it.’

Anne and Elizabeth faced each other. They held hands and they exchanged smiles of pure bliss. And Elizabeth, when she stepped away and turned to Gideon, was incredible. If she had looked fabulous before, it was nothing compared to how she shone now, how she fizzed and pulsed with the light of magic,
good
magic inside her. Her mother dropped back a little into the moon shadows. Elizabeth glided forward on silent feet until she stood only inches from Gideon. Then she did the weirdest thing. The weirdest and the bravest. We had talked about it before. We had spent hours planning, going over and over what would happen, but I still can’t get my head around it. I still wish there had been some other way. She offered him her hand. She smiled and she held out her hand to him. He was stunned. Lost for words. At last—something he hadn’t been expecting!

BOOK: The Witch’s Daughter
8.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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