Why would it be here? It’s not like they’re great guardians or anything.
Might be a messenger.
Of course. A witch strong enough to leash a hone-onna would easily be able to bend a sprite to her will.
I glanced over to Monty. “There’s a sprite being held in the circle.”
He wrinkled his nose. “No doubt primed to warn its master once we dismantle the circle.”
And our protection circles had been designed to keep things out, not in.
“Can you stop it?”
“Either of us could, but the question is, should we bother?”
I frowned. “The longer she takes to realize we’re here, the better it’ll be for us.”
“The minute I begin the cleansing ritual, she’s going to know. Why waste energy when it’ll only save us a few minutes?”
A few minutes could be the difference between life and death, but I didn’t bother arguing the point. “I’ll dismantle it then, while you get everything ready for the ritual.”
He nodded and then squatted next to his pack, carefully unpacking his athame, holy water, salt, and various other bits and pieces.
I drew in a shaky breath that only invigorated the poker-bearing idiots in my head, and then began—with Gabe basically watching over my shoulder—to dismantle the final protection circle.
The minute the final thread fell, the imp screamed and shot away, heading for the tree line and darkness. Both circles shimmered as it went through but didn’t otherwise react.
The countdown had begun.
Time was now of the essence.
Monty stepped forward and began the cleansing ritual. Just for an instant, I thought I heard a deep, horrified scream, and my gaze shot northward, searching the treetops and the sky beyond. Which was ridiculous, of course. Witches were capable of many things, but flying wasn’t one of them. Not even via a broomstick.
Via demons, however? That was an entirely different prospect in this particular case.
Another scream, closer than before.
She was on her way.
And she was furious.
The ice in my veins grew stronger. I didn’t want the confrontation that was coming, but I had no choice.
You’re not alone, Gabe reminded me. I’ll be here.
Another statement meant to comfort that really didn’t. “You have five minutes, if that, before she hits us, Monty.”
He didn’t answer, but he did hear me, because he nodded as he slowly moved around the base of the altar, cleansing from the bottom up.
I watched him for several seconds, then swung around and marched up the hill. When I was ten feet away from my circle, I sat down and removed my shoes and socks. Neither Katie nor I could risk using the wild magic now, but there was one other way I could connect to the earth’s magic without it being obvious. I’d done it a couple of times before—once to summon a wisp, and the other to track a missing wolf, though the latter had ripped the hell out of my strength.
I rose and dug my toes into the soft soil. There was a surge of power and heat, and suddenly I could feel the witch—feel her heavy steps on the ground. She was coming from Argyle’s direction, running with unnatural speed, a dark and bloody storm that would break all over us in little more than a couple of minutes.
And she wasn’t alone.
The hone-onna was with her. And while that wasn’t unexpected, it did complicate things.
No, Gabe said. It doesn’t. It actually works to our advantage.
And how did you come to that grand conclusion? I picked up my pack and began emptying its contents, placing the various charms, blessed items, and the bottles of holy water in separate clusters for easy, last-minute, last-stand grabbing.
Controlling her creature will take focus and energy. The minute she loses either, the hone-onna will attack.
I’m thinking this witch won’t be that stupid.
That depends entirely on how much of a problem we are to her.
I guess it did. I pulled out both Belle’s and my silver knives. They’d been blessed with holy water, so if I did have to use them to protect Monty or myself, they’d create a wound that would never heal. Of course, they’d also kill, but given my lack of experience when it came to using a knife defensively, I was more likely to stab myself in a battle than her.
I hadn’t brought my athame—there was no way known I was about to foul her blade with the blood of a dark witch or even that of a dark spirit.
I braced my feet, toes burrowing into the ground again to ensure a constant flow of location data, and waited.
The dark wash of foul fury drew closer and closer, until her every step vibrated through me.
I flexed my fingers against the knife hilts, trying to ease some of the tension. It didn’t help.
The dark witch burned through the first of her alarm spells. I tried to remain calm, but my heart raced so fast, it felt like one long scream.
I had no idea where the hone-onna was, because the dark witch’s presence was all-consuming. But they’d obviously split up; no doubt they intended to hit our circles from two directions.
The witch burned through the second of her alarm spells. I shifted my feet, bracing as much as I could against what was to come.
Then she hit.
Hard.
Monty’s circle bent around her body, shimmering fiercely before it rebounded and tossed her back. She screamed and began to spell, her hands moving so fast they were a blur. Or maybe that had nothing to do with the speed of her movements but rather the spell that was shielding her outline.
Another scream, this time from behind me. I didn’t turn. I knew it was the hone-onna. Knew she was tearing at the spell, seeking to weaken it with both magic and a physical attack. Monty’s circle pulsed brightly, each blow shimmering across the thread layers. They held.
For now.
We need to attack her, Gabe said. We need to give Monty as much time as possible.
I nodded, and his presence strengthened once again. The spell we created was a more complicated version of the repelling spell I often used. When it was done, we raised my hand and unleashed it. The witch saw it; she was always going to see it, because we made no attempt to hide it. But as she unleashed a foul-feeling counterspell, ours split, one portion smashing into her counter while the other went under and arrowed on, hitting her hard in the chest. It flung her off her feet and dragged her deep into the trees.
But not far enough. Nowhere near far enough.
We swung around, created another repelling spell, and cast it at the hone-onna. The dark spirit had more than enough time to see it, more than enough time to counter, but she did neither. She simply let the full force of our spell hit and cast her far away.
Because she didn’t want me or Monty, and she certainly didn’t want to stop the destruction of the altar.
She wanted the witch. Badly.
The leash, I said to Gabe. We need to destroy the leash.
If the leash is tied to the altar, we can’t. Not until the altar is destroyed.
How would we know? I studied the altar through narrowed eyes. I couldn’t see anything, but then, I wasn’t really sure what I was actually looking for. Gabe?
It would resemble a twined rope of magic, possibly black or bloody red in color, he said.
I’m not seeing anything like that.
No.
The fall of fouled steps on earth vibrated up my legs. I spun, saw a blur of movement, then felt the burn of the spell that she’d flung at Monty’s circle. I threw up a hand, instinctively protecting my eyes as the two collided. There was a pause as the two magics wrestled for supremacy, the hum of energy getting louder, stronger, until it was all I could feel and all I could hear. Then they exploded, lighting the sky with flashes of silver and purple. When the light faded, Monty’s circle was gone. All that remained was the faintly glowing spots of his spell stones.