Wicked Hunt

Chapter Eight, Part I

Victoria: The Serpent And The Stag

The great, menacing face of the serpent peered down at them from Cascade Castle; the violent waterfall pulsed and fought its way from the beast's stone face and open mouth. It sat at the base of the stronghold, allowing the water to run out into the lake before them. Victoria had never lived anywhere else except Cascade Castle, yet the awe of the Serpent's Gate never dimmed when she gazed upon it.

The Drake women did not go out often since the threat of the Shadow Wood was so close, so eminent. A dull, aching evil power seemed to seep from the black trees and shaded stillness. The trees' power seemed to be growing. There was no longer evil just in the periphery. The Black Stag was gaining authority now somehow, perhaps with the king's help and worship. Clive had been warned before, but he paid no mind to the words of the crazed Drake women.

The books in their ancient library had been perused and searched and then gone over again for mention of the girl with black hair and green eyes Victoria had seen. But they could find nothing. The only stories about weakening the stag consisted of the great wolf that encircled the forest to keep him at bay, yet most of the beasts had been eradicated by Clive long ago. It was rare to see one or hear one anymore, when ten years before they had roamed the land unchallenged.

Victoria's own ancestor, sometimes written in the old tales as a twisting green serpent or a winged dragon, was deemed a great foe to the stag, it's natural enemy. If the wolf was meant to guard the Shadow Wood, the snake was meant to spring. The snake was meant to kill.

"Come along, Victoria," Gemma called, reaching her hand out. Tearing her gaze from Cascade Castle in the distancing fog, Victoria turned and let her blind mother pull her along back to their litter. "We're almost there."

Gemma was heaved inside the carriage with Jillian's aid. Then, she held out her hand and tugged Victoria inside as well. The door was shut swiftly behind them. They had stopped momentarily to gather their bearings and stretch their legs, but Victoria had wandered away from the group, transfixed as she usually was, by the stone sculpture and sheer massiveness of the Serpent's Gate. Two days into their journey, and countless peeks at the great, feral snake, and she still could not stop staring at it.

"You feel it, don't you girls?" Gemma asked pointedly. Victoria exchanged a glance with Jillian.

"It smells smoky outside," Jillian admitted. "Like someone has set the forest aflame. Yet, I do not see any fire." She reached and positioned her dark brown hair behind her ears. She had gotten it cut off up to her shoulders after her husband, Jacob's death. She had wanted a fresh start, but Gemma had chastised her for it upon her return to Cascade Castle. She said it was bad luck for a witch to have hair above her breasts.

"You know why, don't you?" Gemma chirped, chuckling slightly. "It's Clive, the fool. They've lit the fires for his wedding."

"In the forest?" Jillian asked, shocked. "They go in there?"

"Nothing is sacred to these people," Gemma remarked, waving her hand. Her pale, dead eyes remained fixed on Jillian. She shifted uneasily. "You remember, don't you? Jacob was a believer in the new ways, was he not?"

"He was," Jillian mumbled, fidgeting with her hair. Victoria could tell Gemma's glassy stare and pointed questions were making her uncomfortable.

Jillian had been Gemma's younger sister's daughter, killing her mother when she had come into the world. Gemma said she had raised the girl as her own, as best she could even if there was some lingering guilt over how Jillian had been born. Soon, Jillian had married at the first opportunity, but even that had been taken from her. Having no other family to go to, she had limped back to Cascade Castle and Gemma Drake. There had been a breakage in the bond when Mira had left, one that could hardly be mended. Jillian's presence had been an attempt to smooth things over, yet Jillian had not kept up with her training while she had been away. It was almost like starting over from scratch. Before, she had held some promise in potions, but now she did not seem to have the patience. Still, there were strength in numbers. Gemma couldn't send Jillian away, not with the threat of the Black Stage looming.

"A grave disappointment," Gemma had confided in Victoria about a month after Jillian had returned. "Almost as much as your sister."

"How much further, do you think?" Victoria asked, a whine in her voice. She interrupted on purpose.

"I told you not to ask," Gemma snapped, and Victoria grinned at Jillian.

"What's the point of placing these enchantments on the trees if, by the time we get there, the stag could already be long gone?" Victoria added, and her mother sighed heavily.

"We're nearly there," Gemma snipped. "We should be on Garrow's Road by nightfall, which will suit our purposes well enough."

"You really think it's him, then?" Jillian asked skeptically. Victoria gave her a warning glower.

"Our enemy?" Gemma snapped again. "Can you not feel his presence in the very air, child? Or have you been drawn away for too long?"

"I don't know," Jillian declared quietly after a moment's thoughtful contemplation.

"No matter," Gemma said decisively. Her eyes closed slowly and reopened. They focused on Victoria's face now, seeing and not seeing her at the same time. "The dark spells are in our blood. Our voices will fill the air and block out his speech. We cannot let him corrupt even one person. If he is able to latch onto a worthy subject, he can escape his prison. The Black Stag must be kept inside." She reached out and took Jillian's hand firmly in her own, not even stumbling as she did so. "You understand?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"There is no room for fear here. The Stag will use that to his advantage."

"Stay by me," Victoria mouthed to Jillian.