Witch Fall (26 page)

Lilette ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth, her lips aching to be kissed. She pushed against him. “Let me go.”

“It’ll be all right—better than all right,” he purred as his hold on her tightened. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and the fight drained out of her.

“Let her go,” Doranna said tightly.

A muscle in Pescal’s face twitched. “Get out of my way.”

Doranna’s fist flashed out, connecting with Pescal’s temple. He staggered back, knocking Lilette down. He scrambled to his feet and lunged at Doranna, but she skipped out of his reach.

“Guardians!” Doranna called. She rolled on the ground, coming up before Lilette, who was struggling to get on her feet.

Within seconds, high-level guardians had converged, hands on their ornate swords. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked.

Doranna pointed a shaking finger at Pescal. “This man is trying to take advantage of an apprentice.”

Pescal tenderly touched his temple, which was already swelling. “She hit me! That wastrel hit me!” There was no denying the hatred now.

They all turned to Lilette, whose emotions were so strong they made her shake. She wrapped her arms around herself to stop herself from stepping towards Pescal. “I–I think I’m going to be sick.” Her eyes locked with Doranna’s. “I
need
him,” she whispered. “Why do I need him?”

“Creators’ mercy,” Doranna gasped. She gave Pescal a look that could flay the spines off a sea urchin.

One of the guardians strode to Pescal and gripped the collar of his shirt. “You think you can get away with drugging a witch, boy?”

He said nothing.

Lilette was quaking with the urge to be touched. Licking her lips, she stepped toward the guardian. “Drugging me?”

The guardian took a step back, dragging Pescal with him. “Can you get her home? I’d send some of my guardians with you, but . . .”

Doranna gave a curt nod. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Drugged me how?” Lilette asked. “What did he do to me?”

Doranna took a firm grip on Lilette’s elbow and herded her toward the pavilion. “You were warned never to accept food or drink you hadn’t seen prepared.” Her words were soft, but they stung anyway. “You live among witches, child. Potions are easy to find—even the dangerous ones.”

Tears pricked Lilette’s eyes. “It was Pescal—I trusted him.”

“Come on. I have something that will help,” Doranna said. They left the gardens, passing a pair of guardians restricting those who could go in. Lilette found herself drifting toward the closest one.

Doranna held firm to her arm. “Keep your gaze down—it will help.”

Lilette stared at the ground. “I thought you couldn’t come into the gardens.”

“Only if we’re called for.”

“But I didn’t call for you.”

Doranna didn’t respond.

Inside the pavilion, only a scattering of food remained. Beyond, the crowd had thinned from a solid mass to clusters of witches who were far outnumbered by the wastrels still hard at work gathering pollen.

“Where’d everybody go?”

“Home, mostly. It’s after midnight, and the festivities continue tomorrow. The gates will be closed soon, and the rest will have to leave as well.”

Even with her eyes downcast, Lilette knew where the men were. Not going to them was physically painful. She tried to concentrate on the discarded leaf plates crushing under her feet and giving off the smell of sap, which mixed with the honey smell of the chesli flowers. “Doranna, I—” She pulled free and bolted toward an older man, not caring about the woman on his arm.

Doranna grabbed her arm and dug her heels in. “Han is waiting for us at Sash’s tree. He’s the one who sent me inside the gardens.” 

Lilette fixed her gaze on the path and started marching down it, not caring whom she passed. Han stood up from the table when she shoved the door open. She shot into his arms.

He stumbled back, surprised. “What—”

“Hold her,” Doranna said.

Lilette buried her face in his chest and the pain ebbed away, but the desire flared up stronger than ever. She tried to stop her hands from tracing the bulk of his muscles. Tried and failed.

He trapped her hands against his chest. “Lilette?” He pushed her back to look at her face. “What’s wrong with her?”

Doranna was busy searching through the shelves and didn’t bother to answer.

His gaze locked with Lilette’s, and his eyes widened. “Her pupils are solid black!”

Lilette didn’t care. She tipped forward, brushing Han’s earlobe with the tip of her nose. Creators’ mercy, he smelled so good. “I want to taste you,” she whispered before licking his neck.

He froze. “What did he give her?” His voice was deadly and cold.

Doranna set down a half dozen clinking bottles. “A love potion.”

“So she’s in love with him now!” Han roared.

“She’s in love with the nearest man,” Doranna corrected as she poured ingredients into the bowl.

“I’m going to kill him.” Han pulled away from Lilette just as her lips found his collarbones. She cried out and moved to follow him, her hands outstretched. 

“You leave and she’ll be out searching for someone else! I barely got her here.” Doranna added dried leaves and ground something in a pestle. “You can kill him later.”

“Han.” Lilette’s voice was trembling. The smell of crushed herbs hung between them.

He slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure if I’m strong enough.”

“Please,” Lilette whispered.

“You want me to find another guardian to keep her occupied until I can make this potion?”

Han took one reluctant step toward her and another. And then he was holding her. She melted against him, his body next to hers sending a shock through her. She tipped forward and pressed her mouth to his neck, gently kissing him.

He moaned. “Doranna, hurry.”

Knowing his resolve was weakening, that she was close—so close—to having him touch her back, Lilette worked her way up his neck to his jaw. He looked at her, defeat in his gaze.

She leaned forward and took his lower lip between her teeth, sucking gently. He moaned softly. Fire licked up Lilette’s middle before settling into a warm ember in her lower belly.

“Try not to react,” Doranna said.

Lilette chuckled on the inside. He’d already let go of her hands, and she was making good use of them, pulling up his tunic to run her hands across his broad chest. “Han,” she whispered in a breathy voice. “Don’t you want to touch me too?”

With a groan, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her—kissed her like she’d always dreamed he would, with no taste of goodbye, no regrets. Just need and want and the promise that he’d never leave.

Then Doranna shoved him. “Hey! She’s had the love potion, not you.”

Gasping for breath, Han pressed her forehead against his neck. “If you don’t give her something, we’re both going to be in trouble.”

“Lilette, drink this.”

She was too busy with her hands to listen.

“Lilette, drink it,” Han begged.

She smiled against his skin. “Only if you promise me something.”

“What?” His voice was low and gravely.

“Promise to come upstairs with me.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“It’s all right,” Doranna said. “Promise her.”

“I promise.”

Without looking at the other woman, Lilette held out her hand. Doranna placed the mortar in her palm. Lilette wrinkled her nose at the sharp smell of crushed herbs mixed with some kind of liquor and tipped back the mortar, nearly gagging as the sludge crawled into her mouth. Her throat burned and her eyes watered. She scrubbed her tongue along the ridges at the top of her mouth to try to clear out the taste.

She started to put down the mortar, but Han tipped it up. Just the pressure of his fingers on hers was enough to convince her to finish the rest.

Once it was gone, Doranna took it from her and collapsed on a chair.

“What does it do?” Han closed his eyes as she took his earlobe in her mouth.

Doranna rubbed her face. “Something to make her sleep and something else to counteract any potion.”

Lilette felt dizzy. She pulled back to look at Han, but her vision had gone fuzzy. A sudden lethargy weighed down her limbs. “You promised,” she reminded him.

Doranna waved him off. “Go on. She won’t do anything but sleep anyway.”

“Come on.” Cupping her elbow, he guided toward the stairs. Her body was heavy and light all at once. Han gave a grunt of frustration before scooping her into his arms.

She nestled her head against his chest as they wound up the stairs. “Han?”

“Hmm?” he grunted as he maneuvered her feet first into a room.

“I think you’re in love with me.” His arms tightened around her and she sighed against him. “You shouldn’t be. It’s very dangerous to love me.”

He eased her onto a mattress of rushes and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know,” he whispered against her skin.

But Lilette was already dreaming, and his words burned to ashes that blew away
before she could capture them.

I would have done things differently had I known it was the last time I would see my mother and my home. ~Jolin

Lilette woke choking on her own scream. She shot up in bed, her heart pounding hard enough to bruise her ribs. Her head felt like it was full of boiling water. She twisted in bed just in time to vomit all over the floor.

Doranna was by her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

Lilette pressed the back of her wrist to her mouth and swallowed to keep from vomiting again. “Hassacre.”

Doranna reared back and squinted out the window. “This close, if the witches were singing, we would hear them.”

Lilette’s head pounded in rhythm with the horrible twisting around her. She pressed her fists over her ears and moaned. “Where’s Han?” Creators’ mercy, had she really thrown herself at him like that?

“Downstairs.” Doranna rested a hand on Lilette’s back. “Has it ever been this bad?”

“No.” Lilette struggled to smooth out the waver in her voice. She would not cry. “This isn’t the shifting of the elements to turn the seasons against themselves. This is using the elements as weapons.”

“But you’ve felt that before.”

Lilette nodded. “So why is this time different?”

Doranna’s eyes widened. “The potion I gave you last night, it would have cleansed the sleeping tincture from your body.”

“Creators help me, I cannot bear it!” Lilette pushed herself to her feet and started forward. She had no idea where she was going, only that the world was screaming its death cry and she had to stop it. 

She stumbled down the stairs. Near the door, Han was sitting up, his gleaming chest laced with scars, some white with age, others a livid pink. Creators’ mercy, she’d
felt
them last night.

“What’s wrong?” He blinked up at her.

Lilette couldn’t look at him. But what had happened between them didn’t matter, not right now.

Doranna quickly filled him in while Lilette started toward the door. Han pulled his tunic over his head and grabbed his weapons and knives, struggling to juggle them while buckling them on. “Are they sinking Harshen?” he asked. His gaze locked with Lilette’s, and her resolve hardened within her.

“If they are, I’ll make them pay.” She wrenched open the door and trotted down the steps. The chesli flowers were still open, moths and other night insects dancing from one to the next. But the people were gone. “Where is everyone?”

“They clear them out of the inner city after the witchling hour.”

Using her witch sense, Lilette led them uphill, toward the source of the discord. “It’s nighttime—why isn’t it raining?”

“It never rains during the chesli harvest,” Doranna said.

The closer they got, the worse the hassacre became. Lilette pitched forward and vomited bile into the foliage at the side of the path.

Han stood beside her. She held out a hand, trying to keep him away from the sight of her spitting vomit.

“Can’t you help her?” he pleaded with Doranna. “Surely there’s some kind of tincture.”

Lilette shook her head. After what Pescal had done to her, she would never take a tincture again. She spit into the bushes and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Why? Why have you turned away from me—after everything we’ve been through?” She shouldn’t care about this now, but she had to know.

“Turned away . . .” His gaze darkened. “Is that what he told you?”

She realized that Han hadn’t even seemed to recognize Pescal last night. Pescal had lied about everything.

“I’m going to find him. And I’m going to kill him,” Han growled.

Doranna picked a handful of mint leaves and handed them to Lilette. “Suck on these.”

Shoving them into her mouth, she let go some of her shame about how she’d acted last night. It wasn’t her fault. And she hadn’t lost Han. She took hold of his arm. “Come on. People are dying. Creators help me, I can feel their screams.”

She staggered forward, picking up speed until she was running. Finally, they stepped into the ring of power. But it was empty. Lilette gripped the hair at her temples. “I don’t understand.”

Doranna took a step toward her. “Child, you have a lot of potions in your body. Perhaps—”

“No!” Lilette gasped for breath. “I know what I feel.”

“Lilette,” Han began. “There’s no one here.”

She turned a full circle in the moonlight. “Yes, they are. I can feel it.” She closed her eyes and spread her witch sense. The wind tugged at her hair, bringing with it the smell of something burning. And as surely as she knew this chanting was destruction made audible, she knew it was directed at Harshen. And it was the strongest at the tree beside them.

Squaring herself, Lilette marched toward a large tree. The smooth expanse of bark seemed to mock her.

“Lilette,” Doranna whispered, “we should go back.”

Closing her eyes again, Lilette pressed the flat of her hands against the tree. Her witch senses combed it, searching for something different. “It’s hollow.”

“Of course it’s hollow,” Doranna said. “All the trees are.”

Lilette opened her eyes. “This part of the tree isn’t alive.”

Han stepped up beside her. “What are you saying?”

Her searching fingers found a lip. “I’m saying this is a door.”

Bracing herself, she pushed. It swung soundlessly forward, revealing a sliver of blackness. After glancing back at the others, Lilette slipped inside. They came in behind her, and Han pushed the door closed. Lilette couldn’t see much, but far below there was a purple glow. Bracing one arm against the side of the tree, she felt the floor with her foot. It disappeared abruptly before her. Gingerly, she stepped down. “They’re stairs. Come on,” she whispered.

They moved toward the light, which shifted from purple to green and sent waves of fear through her that made her heart pound. Finally, she stepped into a huge cavern with the base of the tree serving as the roof. In the center was an opaque sphere in a shifting miasma of pastels. A strong sense of wrongness emanated from it.

A deep instinct warned Lilette to turn and run from this place. Here, there was no dawn—no warmth and light to chase away the shadows. Nothing but emptiness and death, like a soul forced to remain in its rotting corpse for all eternity.

She stretched out her hand to touch the sphere, but Doranna pulled her back. “Don’t.”

Lilette glanced around at shelves of books and tables with potions. She paced to a table, picked up a vial, and sniffed the contents. She quickly jerked back at the rotten egg smell.

Doranna stared at the sphere, sweat beading her brow. “There is something so wrong about this.”

A sudden wave of discord slammed into Lilette and she pitched back, coming up hard against one of the tables and knocking something over. She gritted her teeth.

Han gripped her shoulders. “We need to get out of here.”

Lilette glared at the sphere. “What is it?” She turned to right whatever she’d tipped over, but froze, her hands hovering above an open book. “No.”

She leaned forward, scanning the pages. Her eyes widened before she snapped the book shut and stuffed it down her robes. She took a handful of vials and shoved them into her pockets. “We need to go, now.”

She was already running for the stairs. Han jogged behind her. “Why, what—”

She didn’t slow down. “It’s a barrier! If the witches inside stop singing, it will come down and they’ll see us.”

“But barriers are cylinders. That’s a sphere,” Doranna protested.

Lilette didn’t bother answering. When they were halfway up the stairs, the light shattered, leaving them in complete darkness. They could hear indistinct voices.

Her mouth pressed in a thin line, Lilette concentrated on moving quietly. They reached the door and Doranna pulled it open, letting in a stream of moonlight that Lilette hoped didn’t alert those below to their presence.

They darted into the night. “Split up and hide,” Han hissed.

He took Lilette’s hand, but she resisted. “I have to see.”

He pulled her into the brush, ducking behind a plant with huge, deeply scalloped leaves. Lilette peeked over the top as eight women streamed out and began to go their separate ways. She strained to make out their faces, but they were swathed in shadow.

One woman reached out and grasped the arm of another. “Merlay, wait.”

Lilette stifled her gasp. Merlay turned.

“What will we tell everyone?”

Merlay ran a hand down her face. “The only one thing we can tell them—that they’re dead.”

Lilette couldn’t hear anything over the rush in her ears. She knew who they were speaking of. Knew it in her core.

Her sister was dead. They were all dead.

She thought of the sister she’d never know. Of the witches who’d stayed behind so the rest of them might escape. Her throat made a strangled sound. Han pressed his hand over her mouth and held her tight against him.

Merlay glanced around, as if looking for the source of the sound, but the others were already leaving. After a moment, she turned to follow them.

“It’s my fault,” Lilette whispered through her tears. “I numbed myself to the pain when I should have been fighting.”

Han held her against his chest to muffle her sobs.