Celia
could see Kratos from a clearing, some way into the wood between the hills. He
was standing watching the sky monsters dismember the army that he once had
lived among and apparently supported. Above his head, the rift was still open
but nothing seemed to be coming through. It was hard to see from where she was
standing but he looked neither elated nor triumphant – all he seemed to have
was a quiet smile of satisfaction on his lips.
‘Bastard!’ she whispered, scanning the
withered corpses that he had drained. It was clear that whatever the odds that
she had to try to stop the slaughter.
She followed the same path that John and she
had found on their first attempt to attack their enemy. Her plan was
essentially the same – only a pre-emptive strike would be likely to succeed.
This time there seemed to be nothing in the way.
The scramble up the drainage channel was
straightforward. Celia spent the few minutes of the ascent working out which
spell she should cast. It had to be quick and deadly – Kratos deserved no less.
She made her decision and hardened her heart. He had to die.
She found a part of the forest edge from which
she could get a clear view of Kratos, and then, with her heart beating and her
mouth completely dry she summoned a spell up from the depths of her mind. This
was the moment that the Hybitor had been waiting so long for – a free shot at
their most deadly foe.
But then something made her pause. She thought
of all the people that Kratos had murdered, some of them out of hatred and
others to satisfy his greed for psychic energy, and despite all that she knew
that she could not kill him in cold blood. John might be able to, and she didn’t
blame him for that, he was pragmatic and sensible, but she couldn’t do it. She
wanted to crush him, but it had to be a fair fight. She wasn’t entirely sure
why that was, but she couldn’t resist the feeling that absolutely everyone had
to be given a chance.
She stepped out on to the path.
‘I need you to stop those creatures’ she
said, very loudly and clearly, ‘I need you to send them back to where they came
– and I need you do to it now’
Kratos started and then peered down to look
at her. He did nothing for several seconds. And then he smiled and murmured.
‘Gwydr’
There’s was a sound like a dozen mirrors shattering
and then shards of glass-like energy came flying through the air at
chest-height. Anyone in the way would be lacerated to pieces.
She stood firm – she knew exactly how to deal
with this – it was a trademark CRS spell: savage and bloody and liable to maim
a dozen bystanders, but not very powerful.
‘Ddefnynna’
The shards fell instantly to the ground. He spoke again.
‘Brydia’
A path of flame roared out towards Celia.
This was much more difficult. She had never
come across this spell before, but she had learnt enough from Dai and Owen to
know that there some spells that could counter almost anything, at least for a
while. She knew the drill – absorb, defend, absorb, counter attack.
She went down on one knee and lifted her arms
up so that they crossed at the wrists, palms outwards.
‘Ddiddyma’
The fire roared over Celia, so that her
entire body was enveloped in flames. There
was a moment when the fire attempted to ignite her, playing over her body as it
tried to find a place to catch, but then some force pulled the entire
combusting mass into Celia’s hands. There was a sucking sound, like a small child
slurping through a massive straw, and the conflagration disappeared. Small puffs of smoke came from her fingers but
otherwise she was unharmed.
She waited.
‘Impressive’ said Kratos, his body
shaking slightly from the exertions, ‘You must be Witch Franklyn. I had heard
before that you are very talented…’
It was Celia’s turn to stay quiet.
She was examining her foe very carefully, still waiting for the next strike.
‘…but shielding skill will only keep
you alive for a little longer. You need to demonstrate that you can strike as
well’
She knew that she still had to wait
and she had nothing to say. Kratos was right – it was much easier to defend
than to attack and it cost much less energy.
‘Very well’ he said.
He murmured ‘nharo’ and dropped his arms, palms outwards to his side.
A bolt of darkness formed in front of
his hand and rushed out like the shadow of some swooping bird.
Celia had no more than a split second
to respond.
‘Gyf’
she yelled
The bolt hit her full in the chest,
but it did not break her. Her body was suddenly only the weight of a gnat, and
she flowed on with the bolt, unharmed. However, the hardest part of this trick
was to escape before the bolt hit something properly solid and there was no
practising this one. The force carried on unhindered for another second, but
this was enough time for her to whisper ‘lithro’
and slide off the bolt and down unharmed to the ground.
Kratos paused, his breath heavy. For
a second he looked uncertain; momentarily he seemed unable to think of no other
way to attack. Now it was Celia’s turn. She shook herself as she rose and held
her hands out in front of her.
‘Neidr’
A light green wire was born across Celia’s
hands. It began to flex and grow, pulsing and lengthening. It was quite clear
that Kratos had never seen anything like it before.
‘What is that?’ he said, screwing his eyes up
to look more closely. The object that Celia was forming had no eyes or mouth
but it was very clearly a snake. He took
an involuntary step backwards.
Celia smiled a rather cold smile that she
saved for very special occasions. The snake
force was now complete and she sent it, with a flick of her wrists up the track
to devour its prey.
‘What
is it?’ repeated Kratos, this time in Rhylic, the sweat pricking on his
brow.
‘It’s a
snake,’ answered Celia, ‘a very
strong snake; it’s my party piece; although I haven’t got the colours right
yet…’
She was astonished to see the hint of fear in
her opponent’s eyes. He blinked twice and swallowed.
‘You
really don’t like snakes, do you?’ she said, and then whispered to herself,
‘I wonder why…’
Kratos dropped his hands and shouted ‘gwrthladd’. The air in front of him began whirring in small circles. At the leading
edge of each little twister was a bar of steaming dark liquid. As the serpent
slithered across the path, the tiny whirlwinds fluttered around it, dropping
their payload of liquid on to the snake’s head. Every time a drop of liquid hit
the creature its green skin faded to white. The whole spectral shape was fading
and beginning to disintegrate. The sweat dried on Kratos’s forehead. His look
of fear was replaced by a small smile of triumph.
‘Interesting,
but weak…’ he called out, ‘…just what
I’d expect from Ethian magic. If I were you, I’d run – now. My pets will kill
you instantly; unlike me…’
Celia looked at him. This wasn’t the
time for words. She could see he was preparing to point his finger at her, to
cast the Sipia spell at her and to try
to drain her life force completely.
‘Adena’
she said – this was Owen’s most
powerful mending spell and she was so glad that he had taught it to her.
The green flooded out of her fingers and
splayed over the disintegrating serpent. In an instant it pulsed again and reformed.
With a savage flick of its head it jumped through the air, curling its body as
it went, and wrapped around Kratos in one fluid motion. The twisters disappeared with a small pop,
like a very short sigh.
The spell began to constrict, pressing
its green surface down on Kratos’s body. Each time it contracted it squeezed
red sparks out of the witch. Celia knew what that was – it was her foe’s magical
energy bleeding out of him. This was a spell created to kill only the powerful,
and to her terrified astonishment, it seemed to be working. The actual physical pressure was only weak,
but the thaumic constriction was immense.
Kratos struggled to lift his finger up
to cast the spell, but he could only lift it a few inches against the squeezing
force.
‘Sipia’
he moaned, very quietly, a look of growing hatred in his eyes.
Celia had prepared for this moment for
years – this was the ultimate test of resistance. She braced herself to cast
the counter-spell.
The dark shadow spilt out of his finger.
Celia imagined a tangle of spider silk poised to engulf her. But then the
shadow fell against the side of the serpent, and, as it was not a living thing,
it was impervious to the spell’s effect. It also blocked it and so the dark
energy filled up the narrow space between the snake and Kratos. His eyes
widened as he peered down at the strange corrosive essence that was coalescing around
him. He tried to struggle free but the snake spell prevented him – the
blackness began to cover his clothes like tar from a beach. He raised his eyes
and stared at Celia. All traces of Balliwick had gone.
‘You bitch’ he screamed, in Ethian, ‘you
gangling, misshapen bitch’
Celia said nothing, and tried to
concentrate on preserving the snake spell for as long as she could. However,
her enemy’s words still stabbed into her.
Kratos’s
breath came in loud gasps, but somehow he was resisting the dark matter. But
this could not last for long – the blackness would surely consume him.
‘You will regret your temerity, strange
creature. I will escape, you know it, and I will seek out the one that you love
most and I will destroy him’
Celia’s heart froze with a sudden
realisation. She knew immediately, but for the first ever time, who that was.
She could see him in her mind’s eye now, sitting cross-legged, studiously weaving
reality back into place with extraordinary care; his raven black hair, his
wonderful voice. Now she was happy to kill Kratos, very happy indeed: above all
else she had to protect Owen.
She dipped into her final reserves to deliver
a fatal blow, but it was too late.
‘Amranta!’
cried out Kratos, with a cry of great pain, and blinked away. He had been
defeated and sorely damaged but had managed to escape.
Kratos’s apparatuses could not survive
his sudden exit. The rent in space and the transforming ring both crumbled
above where he had stood. The sky monsters were still intact but there would be
no more reinforcements.
Celia knelt down on the bare hillside
and wept, in relief and fear. Her world was quite suddenly dappled with the
brightest light and the darkest shadow: she had never felt so terrifyingly alive.
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