King of Dust

Chapter 31

Before the witch could get very far, Yra drew his rapier. The space proved cramped, and Yra leapt over broken boards and around the gear shaft with ease. He stabbed at the hag, cutting through her apron, but as his blade crossed her skin, it began to heal itself. Yra growled out in frustration and put his rapier away. "Stupid, stupid regular blade!"

"Not so easy!" the witch cried.

"Stop this, now," I commanded, and held up my hand. It would be easy enough to hypnotize her into behaving. I looked her in the eyes and began to impose my will upon her, but something happened.

She snapped her head to the side and grinned with sharp teeth. "That trick doesn't work on me."

The witch turned and pointed her finger into the room, the tip of it crackling in glowing purple light. The light exploded into small darts, which whizzed around the room accompanied by the whistling of fireworks. They bent around me and hit Astrid and Urien behind me, and the final dart sliced Yra's cheek. Urien bristled up and the darkness of the room pulled to him, wrapping him in shadow. Then, he drew Reckoning, whose light illuminated the room.

Urien charged forward, swinging the sword at the hag, the blade streaking in the darkness as it missed. As a last resort, he pulled his magick spinning blade from the ink on his skin and threw it into the room. It, too, whizzed over the witch's head and she cackled as she danced around it.

Astrid put her hand out and shouted a spell. Her fingers glimmered in glittering light and gold dazzle exploded about the room, falling on us. I expected it to hurt me, but I managed to go unscathed. As soon as that was done, she put her hand in front of her and her scythe appeared, butterflies dispersing around the space. She sent it forward toward the witch, and the blade tore through her, scattering blood on the opposite wall.

Magick was the strategy, then.

Two other women came barreling down the stairs. As soon as they saw the fight happening, they transformed into monstrosities. Horns grew from one's head, and the other's face sunk in as though she had been dead a while. Yra disengaged, dashing away from the conflict. As he went, he opened his jaw wide, his eyes becoming black pools. I hadn't seen him that angry in a while. He hated using magick, but these witches must've pissed him off. His hands turned black with energy, sparks flying from them, and he dashed past the eldest hag, rending her clothes with them.

"Mother! No!" The witch that looked like a dried prune cast a spell. The hag before us became enshrouded in light and I shielded my eyes to protect them. No matter. Her new shield would not protect her from my magick. It seemed necromancy was on the table, unlike with the assassins.

I spat a spell at the old witch, death flying from my fingertips. The spell hit the hag and knocked her clear across the room.

"You think you're so clever," she shrieked, "using what my ancestors gave you! You're a fool. You let us play you before, and you'll regret what you've done."

She pointed one bony finger at me.

"Have fun, Prince of Darkness."

And then Clara grew from the ground. She rose from the wood like a phantom, and she cocked her head when she looked at me. "Oh," she muttered. "Look who it is. Darius the Failure."

My eyes tore over her, fighting my own mind. My brain knew she was not real, but my heart and the magick fought each other. The noise from the battle bounced around the room as I took in every feature of her face. Gods, how I had missed it. The faint light from the slats covering the one window in the room danced across her cheekbones and I melted. Why would she hurt me so? A bolt of magick flew past my face, blowing my hair out of place, and Astrid's scythe bounced around the corner of my vision. A metal chain whipped behind Clara and my eyes snapped away from the illusion. She wasn't real.