Read New Title 1 Online

Authors: Unknown

New Title 1 (10 page)

BOOK: New Title 1
10.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter Fifteen

 

Tall trees, bushes and more tall trees. The same landscape had been going on and on forever. By Rafe’s calculations he had been in the jungle for hours, and still couldn’t find his quarry. He was getting nowhere. He must have been dreaming when he thought we could sniff Yara’s trail in this massive jungle. Well, why not? It was just the largest rain forest in the planet! No biggy.

This is stupid,
he cursed in his mind and kept on sniffing dead leaves. His wolf muzzle was red and sore from trying to get a trace of Yara’s scent. It had been the most striking scent he’d ever felt, like forest leaves after the rain, like a woodland just when the water hits its top. But guess what? He was in a freaking
forest
and it had
rained
not long ago.
Great plan, Rafe, great plan,
he chided himself again.

He sat on his hind legs and huffed. He wasn’t tired, and for some reason the animals in this jungle had kept their distance. Not even the famous jaguar had approached him for a duel. So, no imminent danger had showed its face. So far, so good, but patience and resilience were not among Rafe’s qualities. His inmã wanted action, results, and it wanted them now. He’d always been like this, that’s why his partnership with Archie at the gym worked so well. He made things happen while Archie did the reasoning and calculations. So where was his partner to tell him what a fucked-up plan that was – to roam aimlessly deep in a jungle in search for a witch who, surprise, surprise, was from this very part of the world, and therefore, could see him coming probably from miles away? She might have seen him already and hid away. Who would tell? Not him.

He’d known Yara was Brazilian, he’d known Yara was a witch, but not a water witch from the Amazon. Yep, that little detail Phillip had conveniently forgotten to share with Rafe. Thankfully, his new
buddy
, Indian,
spilled the beans. And more. Yara was apparently one of the daughters of a supernatural all-female tribe known as the water witches. Rafe vaguely remembered stories about such a community – every boy dreamt about finding the opportunity to show those fine gals what they were really missing. Wet-dreams aside, he thought they were just a myth, but according to Indian they were very much real, and were the protectors of that entire region. They were considered almost like goddesses by the locals. Every full moon they came out of their secret community and kidnapped the men from surrounding villages to procreate with. Lucky bastards. After a night of pleasure, they were taken back to their homes to face the wrath of their human wives, with massive smiles on their faces. Rafe could only imagine spending the night between Yara’s legs. How amazing, how divine, how so not appropriate for him to be thinking about now.

He shook his white furry head and tried to focus on the path ahead, which had suddenly gotten narrower. Damn it, he was certain he’d been down that way before. He was so lost. He should just go back and wait for Yara to show up back at the village, that is,
hope
she turned up.

The barely-there trail suddenly opened out onto a large clearing.
OK, that’s definitely new
. Rafe kept to the shadows, but carried on. A massive lake with bright green waters appeared in front of him. Holy Apa Dobrý. Rafe had never seen anything like that before. It was stunning. Even though it was a dark night, with a mere crescent moon shining in the sky, the lake’s water sparkled with the most amazing emerald light, as if someone had planted flashlights in the bottom. Flocks of birds crowded the tree tops around it. Colorful macaws shared branches with hyperactive hummingbirds. A black and yellow toucan rested side-by-side with a weird chicken-looking bird Rafe had never seen before. The lake was filled with beautiful water lilies, which seemed to float on top of huge dish-like leaves. The entire sight was mesmerizing. The animals seemed to have found a way of co-existing, as if they knew it was the only way they could all enjoy the magical lake – oh yes, it was certainly magical. No other pond in the world could emit such bright light from within.

The scent of fresh kill reached his nose, his belly rumbled in response, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in a while.

“Vamo logo!” he heard a female voice urge from somewhere around him.

Rafe crouched low behind a thick tree, trying hard to hide his white furry ass. Not long after, three women emerged from the jungle not even ten feet from where he was. They carried bows and arrows, a few dead rabbits and other small animals over their shoulders. Their accent was very strong and, even though Rafe’s wolf hearing could pick any sound from here to Mexico, his Portuguese was far from fluent. He managed to pick up a few things though – one of the girls was grumpy because she was forced to come back to the jungle to hunt, the other was so hungry she could eat an entire moth, no,
sloth
, and the third one couldn’t care less about the Opelia.

Opelia?

Rafe wondered what that would be.

The girl carrying the day’s prey positioned herself at the edge of the lake and shouted a few words Rafe couldn’t understand. Moments later, the lagoon’s peaceful surface was stirred and green waves appeared out of nowhere. The water churned, swirled, swiveled, and a deep whirlpool appeared in the middle. One by one, the three women stepped forward. Rafe was expecting them to dive, but no, they kept on walking, on the water –
literally
! And if that wasn’t enough, they jumped into the whirlpool without giving it too much thought.

Water witches.

As soon as the third woman disappeared into the emerald waters, Rafe ran to the edge of the lake and observed the miracle at a closer range. Holy Apa Dobrý! He had suspected this was no ordinary lake, but never in a million years would he have thought it was a portal. The whirlpool was disappearing, slowing down. If he wanted to find Yara, he’d have to make a move, fast.
To dive or not to dive.
If he did, he might be completely vulnerable to whatever was waiting for him on the other side – that is
if
he managed to find the other side.

“Oh, fuck it!” Curiosity killed the cat … not the dog.

Without wasting any more time, Rafe put everything on his hind legs and jumped in the whirlpool after the witches.

Chapter Sixteen

 

The murky water splashed noisily as Yara’s bare ass hit the surface. Again.

“Fucking Soartas!” she cursed.

It was her tenth failed attempt to climb the slimy stone walls. She couldn’t believe her luck. Not only was she trapped in the very place she had sworn never to come back to, but she was failing Zoricah as well. Her friend would have probably run out of potions by now, and without them, Z would be in big trouble. Yara had to get out of there. Period.

She took a deep breath then reached up, holding on to a brick. Leveraging off it, she pulled her weight up and perched her feet on two crevasses. Her fingers were sore from having attempted that same movement so many times before

she had even lost a couple of nails in the previous attempts, but she would not let that stop her. She would climb that fucking wall with her teeth if she needed to.

With her teeth…
She paused as the tingling of an epiphany ran up her spine.

It had been a long time since she used magic but she had definitely felt it course through her veins when she plunged into the Emerald Lake earlier that day. So it might be enough to give herself a boost toward sweet freedom. All she needed to do was to remember the spell … It had been decades since she last tried conjuring a charm, and the one she needed was definitely tricky.

“Right, we can do this,” she urged to herself.

She was going to need a combination of levitation and thrust – it wasn’t going to be easy to propel her Latin ass 30 feet up and out of that well. She cleared her mind and let the long-forgotten memories come forth. Contrary to most witches, she had a photographic memory so the only way to remember a spell was to recall the times when she’d used the magic words.

Visions of a younger Yuma-ci invaded mind. She was smiling mischievously, telling Yara to stay low. Her short brown curls kept on falling over her almond eyes, and she would constantly try and tuck them behind her ears. They were in the human’s realm, crouched behind low fern bushes which surrounded the mouth of a beautiful waterfall. An unknowing couple was bathing in its crystalline pool. A water witch and her lover. Yara had never seen a naked male body before. She remembered blushing furiously at the sight of the man’s bare skin, lean muscles, and hard shaft pointing proudly at the entrance between the witch’s thighs. Mating outside the sacred rituals was utterly forbidden. Once a month, a handful of water witches were chosen to ensure the propagation of their race. They were matched with human men from the surrounding villages, who had been carefully chosen for their prowess and strength. The unknowing males didn’t have any say in the matter; they were snatched out of their homes in the middle of the night, carried to the witches’ tribe like prisoners and used as sex slaves for the night. The fact that no one got physically hurt, and that the males were
really
well treated, sometimes having to mate with two or three women at a time, generated the legend of the witches. And every native boy when reached puberty anxiously waited to be taken away on a full moon night. The millennia-old custom was met with mixed feelings by their close-knit society. Some girls welcomed the un-attachment provided by the matings, but others, like Yara, dreaded the thought of lying with a stranger who cared nothing for her heart.

“Yara, look,” Yuma-ci had called her attention, pointing at the woman under the waterfall. The young witch’s tresses fanned over her naked breasts as she exhaled a moan of pure ecstasy. Her male companion was holding her in his arms, her back to his front, exploring her with his hands, caressing her between the legs. He rubbed himself against her, and she moaned louder still. Suddenly she swiveled around, knelt down on her knees and took him into her mouth. The man rewarded her with his own groans of pleasure. Yara remembered being in utter shock, her jaw dropping all the way to the ground. Never had her tutors mentioned that a witch could service her mate like that. Yara and all the other young untouched girls in her society were taught that the only reason they should bed a male was to ensure the continuance of their race. The males were to service
them
, not the other way around! Yuma-ci’s hand clutched at Yara’s open mouth but it was too late. Before she knew it, a whimper of surprise escaped her lips.

The witch by the waterfall stopped, alarmed, and forced her companion to let her go.

“Run!” Yuma-ci shouted and Yara complied but the witch was not a young inexperienced one like them – well, she was actually older than both of them combined. As she ran as fast as her legs could take it, Yara noticed the forest trees shifting, moving along with their every step. Suddenly, a thick branch came out of nowhere and whacked Yara and Yuma-ci square on the face. They plummeted to the ground like ripe fruit. Before they could recover from the blow, the witch and her mate closed in on them. And by Apa Dobrý, they weren’t happy.

“We won’t tell, we promise, Isha!” Yuma-ci had pleaded. Tears trickled down her round cheeks.

“You certainly won’t,” Isha replied then she raised both her hands and Yara instantly felt a something horrible lodge in her throat. She tried to swallow but it wouldn’t budge. With utter panic, she realized that her tongue was the “something”; it was growing thicker, bigger, fatter. Isha was going to choke her with her own tongue! Survival kicked in and on reflex Yara blurted out the spell she had learned that very afternoon.

“Passaros que cantam, passaros que voam, dai-me tuas asas pra que eu possa no céu te encontrar.”
Birds that sing, birds that fly, give me your wings so I can meet you in the sky.

Yara’s young body shot up toward the bright blue sky, freeing her from the witch’s magical grasp. But Yara’s celebration was cut short when Yuma-ci’s shout echoed in the forest below. She looked down and saw her cousin collapse on the dirt path, clutching her throat with both hands.
Ai Merciful Soartas!
An invisible fist clutched at her heart at the thought of Yuma-ci’s painful punishment. Without a second thought, Yara chanted the counter spell and prepared for her descent. But she chose the wrong words, instead of floating down, she dropped from the sky, like a dead bird. Right on top of Isha. They tumbled over each other and Yara managed to untangle herself and push off to her feet, but the Soartas wouldn’t have her escape so easily. When she was about to sprint away, Isha clamped at her ankle, pulling her back. “Let me go!” she remembered yelling. “In your dreams!” the witch replied. But Yara never took no for an answer, even back then at such a young age. She cursed one last time, then bent down and sunk her teeth into Isha’s arm. The warm, metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth as the witch screamed in pain. It was horrible, but it worked. Isha not only let Yara’s leg go but also lost the grip on her tongue-swelling spell over Yuma-ci. All because of
her teeth.

Yara looked up at the long stone pit she was in, and shook her head. Who would’ve thought that
that
wanton water witch, who had almost chopped off her tongue, would one day become an all-mighty Mother of the water witches? Mother Isha. And who would have thought that one day Yuma-ci would hold so much hatred against Yara. An invisible knife cut through her heart at the memories of her cousin’s cold stare. What in Hiad had happened to Yuma-ci? What could have turned her into that bitter, life-loathing bitch? Yuma-ci had been Yara’s best friend; they had been thick as thieves when they were young. Everyone in the village knew that wherever one was, the other could be found. Until the day Yuma-ci turned on Yara, and double-crossed her in the most despicable of ways.

No amount of time could heal the wounds opened by Yuma-ci’s betrayal.

And no amount of failed attempts would make Yara give up on getting out of that fucking hole and saving Zoricah’s life. With renewed resolve, she balanced her weight above water with firm fingers and toes and chanted the magic spells. First, levitation.

“Wind Lords of south, east and west, come dance with me on this mighty quest. Make me float as light as a feather, make me swing like chimes, until clapping of hands is heard three times.”

Nothing happened.

Not even a little tingle in her ear.

She took a deep breath. “OK. Right. Once more, this time with feeling.”

“Wind Lords of south, east and west, come dance with me on this mighty quest ...” As the first words flowed out of her lips, something stirred inside her. She felt suddenly light-headed, her fingers no longer hurt for bearing her weight up against the rock. “Make me float as light as a feather, make me swing like chimes, until clapping of hands is heard three times.” As if an invisible sheet had enveloped her, Yara was suspended in the air and glided leisurely away from the wall. Up she went, slowly bouncing from one side of the well to the other. Her head felt so light. Her arms, legs, torso were buoyant, flimsy. She threw one leg up and spun gleefully in the air. “Woo-hoo!”

This was so much fun! But at that rate it would take her a good hour to get to the mouth of the well. So, she took a deep breath and shifted into fifth gear. Opening her arms at length to steady herself toward the intended direction, she concentrated and shouted the magic words. “Birds that sing, birds that fly, give me your wings so I can meet you in the sky!”

Up she went, like a rocket to the moon. Six feet to the top, five feet, four feet, three feet…She could feel the air change, get crispier, fresher. Two feet. The scent of forest and mud prickled her nose. One foot.
Yes!
Yara extended her arm and reached out to the edge of the well. Her fingers touched the stone, one step away from freedom.

A mighty jolt of electricity propelled her backwards, sending shock waves up her spine.
What in Hiad?
She hadn’t seen
that
coming. The top of the well had been protected by a fucking stun-spell. With the fright and the powerful electric shock, she lost her concentration and her grip on the enchantment. And down, back into the well she fell.

Ten feet, twenty feet, thirty feet.

“No!”

Icy water hit her bottom as she splashed in.

She kicked her feet and ascended to the surface, taking a much-needed breath. The horrible stench of mold and murk flooded her nostrils. She couldn’t stand being trapped, let alone in a greasy, putrid pit like this one.

“May the Soartas be cursed to the abyss of Hiad!” she shouted and banged her head against the hard wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!”

A large shadow blocked the light coming from above then something heavy was dropped into the well, hitting her right on the head. A rope.

What in Hiad? Who was the Mother Teresa who was letting her out so soon? Yara tried to see who it was, to no avail.

Whatever. She couldn’t afford to ask too many questions and not take this opportunity by the horns. She reached out and grabbed the rope, pulling it to see if it could stand her weight. Yep, it did.

She knew it was dangerous to take this blessing at face value, but what other options did she have? Whoever had thrown it to her had obviously intended for her to escape. So she would accept this anonymous gift and face whatever waited for her at the top once she got there.

BOOK: New Title 1
10.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Renewal by Jf Perkins
Games We Play by Isabelle Arocho
The O'Brien Way by Carol Lynne
Baby Kisses by Verna Clay
Bookworm Buddies by Judy Delton