A Witch's Trial (Witch's Path Series: Book 3) (29 page)

I couldn't agree more, but until things calmed down, I couldn't do it. Not only did I lack the energy, but I couldn't risk being interrupted by one of our attackers. During practice, Varro had said I was doing well, but this was a different situation, and I needed to be able to focus to make sure I got it right.

One of the men screamed, and I spun back to them. Elron was on the ground, a gash open across his upper chest, with a snarling werewolf over him, blood covering its paw. Before I could think better of it, I shot a bolt of power at the werewolf, knocking it tail over teakettle and off Elron. The wand warmed in my hand, tingling with energy. Energy I should be using to deal with Sylvia and Gremory, but I didn't have it in me to abandon Elron.
 

The wolf got to its feet, snarled, and backed up a few steps. I growled right back. Wells killed the last gremlin attacking him by cutting its neck, and Varro bisected his last too with one swipe of his knife.
 

Sylvia's voice rang out from behind me, but it was rougher and sultry. "You can't save them and kill me." The laugh was full throated and calculating. "That spell, the one you cast to bring me here, was good, but it needs some work. I couldn't figure out how the ghoul had only partly finished the job, but the unrelenting need to see for myself wouldn't abate, so I brought friends with me. Some of you are going to die. Maybe you'll take me with you, maybe not."

I didn't turn around this time. That was Gremory, doing his best to get into my head, and looking at him wouldn't change anything that was happening out here. I did take a few steps forward because even with the shield, it wasn't comfortable having Gremory at my back.

The wolf yipped and a second wolf answered with a growl. It came into sight, crouched with hackles raised. The two of them exchanged a look. My wand went from warm to hot, and I shot a bolt of power at each wolf. They stumbled and one of them sat down awkwardly, but it hadn't been enough energy to hurt them. Elron groaned; most of his jacket was wet with his blood. His hand clenched, as if to grab a weapon, but his sword was out of sight.

The wolf with the bloody paw leapt forward, and I threw enough power into the next blast to do some damage. The energy hit him in the shoulder, knocking him away from Elron. He hit the ground limply, the blast having burned through his fur and into the flesh of his shoulder.
 

While I'd been watching the first wolf, the second one had charged. It was in the air, ready to come down on Elron with all four feet and open jaws, when Varro tackled it, taking it to the ground. Elron jerked his feet to the side, making a sound I never wanted to hear come out of his mouth again, narrowly avoiding being the cushion for their landing.

The werewolf's jaws closed on Varro's arm, and the darkness couldn't obscure the way his arm bent under the pressure. Varro didn't make a sound; his other hand was busy sinking his knife into the creature's gut. Releasing Varro's mangled arm, the werewolf let out a pained howl that was cut off when Varro slit its throat.
 

The first gunshot echoed in my ears, or maybe the echo was the report of subsequent shots. While I'd been distracted by Varro, the other werewolf had taken the opportunity to attack Elron, but he didn't get so much as a toenail on him because Wells shot him. The first shot hit him in the shoulder, and he stumbled but didn't stop moving forward.
 

The second shot went into his side, and he slowed, breathing labored, and favoring his right foreleg. The werewolf switched to an easier target, getting a mouthful of Varro's shoulder. This time Varro screamed.
 

Varro twisted, trying to use his good side to get the knife into the werewolf, but the angle and pain made it difficult. The knife slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. The werewolf took advantage of the situation and sank down, digging his teeth deeper into the meat where neck turns to shoulder. I didn't need to hear the crunch to know Varro's collarbone was broken.
 

None of this slowed Wells down in the slightest. While the werewolf continued tearing into Varro, Wells put two more bullets into his side. When that didn't end things, Wells calmly walked up to the werewolf and started aligning his next shot. The werewolf never noticed Wells selecting the best angle, one where the shot would go in to the werewolf's head without hitting Varro. Once Wells found it, the bullet took out part of the werewolf's skull.
 

Two kicks later, the wolf was clear of Varro, and Wells put two more shots into its head just to make sure. Personally, I never wanted to see that much brain matter again in my entire life. It must not have bothered Wells, because he repeated the process with the other werewolf. I couldn't blame him for wanting to do something less reversible than a slit throat, especially when I saw its chest move, and it attempted to nip Wells.

I stumbled over to Elron, activating a healing charm before I got a good look at him. When I set the charm on his chest, he winced, but the moon wasn't casting enough light for me to see him clearly. Glaring at a pinecone dangling from an overhead branch I hissed, "
Wonho
."

It brightened instantly, making me see spots. When my eyes adjusted, there was enough light for me to see Elron clearly. His shirt was coated in blood, and the charm was partly in a deep laceration that went into the muscle of his chest. I moved it to a less injured part of him and picked the cloth out of the rest of his wounds. The slashed-open flesh and muscle tissue I could see were bad enough, but what really bothered me were the bits of bone.

When the cloth wasn't in danger of impeding any healing the charm managed, I kissed him on the forehead and went to Varro. Wells had arranged the fey's left side into a more natural posture, but there was no denying the damage. My remaining healing charm went to Varro. I doubted it was strong enough to repair the damage, but it did help with the pain, and I could see him relax as it took effect.
 

Looking at Wells, I mouthed, "Thank you."
 

He nodded. I hoped he understood. What little energy I had left had to go to killing Gremory. Even if I'd been fast enough to cast spells that could've saved Elron and Varro, we would've been stuck with the demon in a cage and no way to kill him.

I hoped I could remember that tomorrow. This pain wasn't my fault. The main part of my job was yet to come, and I would need every bit of strength left in my body to accomplish those tasks.
 

"Michelle, call Julius back, finish it. Turn me so I may watch," Varro gasped.

"Of course." I kissed his cheek, and Wells and I shifted him as he stifled grunts.
 

"You have fire." Varro smiled.

"Shh, let me finish this, then we can talk."

"There won't be time. Don't lose the fire."

"I won't," I promised. Varro looked like death would be coming for him. It wasn't just the wounds, which were bad enough, but the texture of his skin, the fatigue in his eyes, and the yearning in his voice. I sent the magical equivalent of a flare into the air in case Julius hadn't heard the gunshots.
 

Varro's eyes drifted closed, and I hurried over to Elron. As I knelt next to him, I asked, "How are you doing?"

"The charm helped. Thank you." His wound, which stretched over his heart to his gut, didn't look much better.
 

"I need to finish this. Do you want to watch?" Part of me hoped he would decline, but I knew that wasn't going to be his answer.

"Yes, help me…" He sounded weak, but between his own pained movement and a helping hand, he was quickly propped up against the tree trunk.
 

Julius came down through the trees, taking in the carnage as he landed. The pinecone was still emitting a bright light, and we looked all the worse for it, including the gargoyle. His wings drooped, and the lines around his eyes were deeper than before.
 

"Can you tell me when the demon is dead?" I asked.

"Yes," Julius answered as he turned his attention to Sylvia.

It made me feel better that he didn't ask if we were okay or spend precious time assessing the wounds. He put his attention in the most vital area. The faster we dealt with Gremory, the faster we could tend Varro and Elron. Wells probably had some injuries too.
 

Turing to Sylvia was harder than it should've been since I knew the stakes. It hurt to take my eyes off the men; part of me was afraid that I'd turn around and they'd both be dead. The rest of me knew Varro would be dead.
 

Sylvia was standing inches from the shield, hand raised as if she could reach out and touch us. At my movement, her attention shifted from Elron to me. "I need a moment, then it's time."

"I won't wait long." The truth was that I couldn't wait. While my power would regenerate over time, I was fighting fatigue, stress, and sorrow, which would sap my strength and weaken my control.
 

She focused on her husband. "Elron, do not mourn. This was always going to be my path. I regret nothing but the pain it has caused you." Her eyes were clear, free of Gremory's flames.

"If I had kept my vows, gone with you, it could have been different," Elron rasped, tears running down his face.
 

"You have never broken a vow to me."
 

Elron's eyes darted to me.
 

Sylvia followed his gaze and smiled softly. "Oh, Elron. We were done long ago; do not harbor guilt on that count. If you had come with me that day, you would've died."

Flames stole her eyes, and the tone of her voice changed. "Poor Elron, always one step behind and too slow."

Elron tensed, and Wells stepped closer, flanking Julius and me.
 

Sylvia's own eyes returned, and the hard lines on her face softened. "Don't listen to him. You've done well, and there is more to come. You need to be ready."

"Ready for what?" I asked, trembling with the effort of maintaining the spell.

"Ready. The Call will help, but both of you need to be ready." Sylvia started to tremble. "Take the diary apart. It explains."

The shaking intensified until she couldn't stay on her feet, limbs twitching uncontrollably. Sylvia stilled and made it to her feet in one smooth movement before tossing her head back and laughing.
 

The sound made the few hairs on the back of my neck that were still down stand up. That wasn't Sylvia.

"Michelle, do the next stage of the spell," Varro ordered.

I didn't argue. I gave the containment spell new commands so it would take the energy, growing stronger and creating a void where the demon had been. When the spell was complete, I set the clearing ablaze with a cleansing fire that would purify as it burned.

"Do you think this will be the end of me? We are eternal. We have been here since the beginning, and we will be here in the end. This isn't over. It's never over. Your actions won't be forgotten, Michelle. We won't forget." The smirk was what did it. Gremory honestly believed this wasn't the end of this fight.
 

"What do you mean we, Gremory?" I screamed.
 

"Exactly what you think," he shouted back.
 

"Are there more of you? Do other demons still walk this earth?" We would've been nose to nose if the shield hadn't been between us.
 

The blaze picked up, burning through Sylvia's leather boots, smoke filling the air. Gremory took several steps back. "We are eternal."

"You aren't eternal if you can die." I fed power into the flames, making them burn hotter and faster. It was time for Gremory to understand the difference between hard to kill and immortal.

The smirk faded from Gremory's face and the flames faded from Sylvia's eyes. The next words were in Sylvia's voice. "This is my path."

Not knowing what else to do, I gave a cautious answer. "Yes, it is."
 

The flames found a new layer of organic matter to burn, and the smoke began to obscure the view. Behind Sylvia, the flesh and clothing had burned off the ghoul, leaving bones behind. Most fires might not hurt the bones too much, but the magical fire would turn them to dust.
 

Sylvia stepped into the heart of the flames and stood there, flesh burning, a smile on her face. I didn't know if the smoke or pain got to her, but I was relieved to see her pass out and drop to ground. It was hard enough to watch her burn while she was unaware, but it would've been unbearable if she'd been awake.
 

The fire slowly died down, leaving nothing inside but ash and dust. The shield continued to gather energy, glowing more brightly. The light was intense enough to make looking at it difficult, and I was forced to look away before I damaged my eyes.
 

Elron's face was as soaked with tears as his chest was with blood, and he was squinting through his lashes in an effort to keep his eyes on what was left of Sylvia. Varro had closed his eyes, but I knew he'd observed the most important part.
 

Inside the shield felt empty. It didn't have a taste of power, life, or anything else. It had become an empty shell, holding the last remains of Sylvia, Gremory, and the ghoul.

"Gremory is gone," Julius said.
 

"Are you sure?" I asked. I didn't feel anything over there, but I couldn't see demons the way he could.

"Yes, you can do the last part," he answered.

I had the spell narrow along ground level, scooting the ash and dust into a pile. With a few words, the spell went down, feeding the energy back into the earth. Air swirled around us as it rushed to fill the vacuum. The force of the air pulled and tugged, dragging me forward. After a few steps, I planted my feet and the wind abated. Julius moved forward to look around, and I dug in the bushes until I found my bag, grabbed a couple of large mason jars, and a followed the gargoyle.

Inside the clearing was different than I'd expected. It didn't have a smell, and any life that had been stuck in here with Sylvia was dead. At the pile of ashes, I dumped out the mason jar of salt, mixing it in with a finger. I scooped up as much of the ashes as I could, filling the jars.