Page 30 of The Witch and His Crow
It was the symphony of death.
TRIAL ONE - THE CULLING
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was not uncommon for Hekate to cycle through trials. It seemed even a goddess had limits to her creativity. But the Culling, although it had only been recorded once before in history, was the bloodiest of all Her trials. As a shepherd would cull his flock, this was a way of allowing the contestants to thin the ranks. Which made sense, considering the sheer number of witches allowed into the Witch Trials.
I wracked my memory, drawing up every little bit of knowledge I remembered. The Culling was a timed trial, with a simple outcome—survive until the toll of the next bell. That could be hours, days, or even weeks. But from the volume of the screams, I hardly imagined Hekate would require it to go on for too long. By sunrise, there would be few witches left.
I took a cautious step towards the door when a face filled my mind. Romy. I’d left her alone. Unless she’d been successful in her attempt to find allies, she was currently right in the midst of hundreds of witches out for blood.
There was no room for thought in the face of danger, only action. And right now, Romy was what drove me to run from the library and back through the dark maze of the castle. I couldn’texplain the feeling of pure need, except to repay her for trying to free me from my cell.
Deep in my gut, the beast woke. The blood-thirsty excitement of a fight. There was no quelling it, or ignoring the feeling. Although I didn’t plan to harm another witch unless provoked, there was one person in this contest I’d happily slaughter.
The Witch Hunter.
It didn’t take long for the empty corridors to fill with bodies. Witches didn’t walk out of doors, but instead came barrelling out of them. I stopped just before two of them smashed into me. The wall beside me was not so fortunate. They careened into it, the force dislodging a faded painting of flowers in a blue-white vase. The gilded frame cracked against the floor, just as one of the witches drove a fist into the other’s face.
They were a mess of tangled limbs. I stepped around the scrapping witches, trying to keep going. But my presence altered them, and instead of beating each other up they both turned on me.
‘Steady now,’ I said, backing up, hands poised and ready. It would be in that moment that Caym’s presence would’ve come in handy. ‘I’ll be on my merry way. You both can get back to your?—’
The air snapped with frost, silencing me. It scalded the back of my throat, turning my breath to fog before my lips. It didn’t take a scholar to know the sudden drop in temperature was a result of the water-witch in front of me. His eyes glowed with a circlet of sapphire, just as his hands hardened from flesh to ice. He used the wall beside him for leverage as he stood. But where his hand touched, winter spread. Shocking white cracks spread outwards, hungry as the gaze of the witch that controlled it.
‘Hector Briar, the prodigal son,’ the water-witch sang. ‘What an honour it will be to kill you.’
‘I’m getting sick and tired of hearing my name already,’ I said, cracking my neck, the beast of my Gift unfurling in my gut.I readied my stance, hands held like claws beside me. ‘I would say join the queue.’
‘He’s mine, Billy.’ The second witch got up from the ground. Her cheek was plastered with blood, oozing from the cut at her cheek. I recognised her instantly as the red-headed woman Romy had been speaking to. But from the look she threw me, my initial concern was proven correct. This was no friend of mine. Certainly no ally. That glint in her eyes, the desire for pain, was one I had seen reflected back at me before.
‘Are we going to fight over this too,Jaz?’ Billy said, sapphire eyes glowing, ice crackling. It was as though he grasped the very air, hardening it with every passing second. ‘Or are we going to take him together?’
The red-headed witch, Jaz, stepped beside him. ‘Is this your way of accepting my invitation to coven-up?’
Billy smirked, thin lips spreading across his otherwise handsome face. Although, after staring into Arwyn’s eyes, it was hard admiring anyone else’s beauty. ‘Yes. Yes, it is.’
‘I do love how I can turn foes into friends,’ I said, backing away until the wall was pressed behind me. Both witches stood in front, blocking the corridor I was hoping to get through. ‘But I’m really not in the mood for another attempt on my life.’
Jaz cracked her neck, sweeping her length of hair over her shoulder, as her eyes glowed. Emerald spun around her brown eyes, giving her the look of a murderous cat. ‘Shame.’
‘I could join you,’ I lied, readying my own Gift. ‘If you’ve got space for another witch in your little coven.’
‘Yourlittlefriend already declined it on your behalf,’ Jaz said, side stepping around Billy. ‘What was her name again…Romy? Ah, yes. Painfully positive. In fact, once we’re done with you, I think we’ll go and find her next.’
I didn’t waste another moment. My power pushed out against my skin just as I sprung forwards. Jaz’s eyes flashed inwarning before a splitting agony cut through my skull. I didn’t get close enough to attack before I blacked out. The floor came up to meet me, fast and hard. My knees cracked against old wood, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony in my head.
I saw double as my skull split in two. I clutched in on either side, screaming out as though that would stop the pain.
‘Interesting gift, isn’t it?’ Jaz said from beyond the haze of pain. Clearly this was her doing. I attempted to blindly throw out a blast of my power, but the pain only intensified. ‘Ah, ah, ah, Hector. Every time you use your Gift, mine will punish you.’
‘May I?’ Billy lowered himself before me, ice-coated hands stretching for my face. My skin stung with the sheer chill of his aura.
Not even five minutes into the Culling and my life was almost forfeit. There was no Caym to save me, no Arwyn to act as my stand-in shadow.
But there wasno fucking wayI was going to fail now.
‘You….are…making’ I withdrew my power, releasing my grasp on it. Immediately, the pain ceased. Cut off, as quickly as it arrived. That was Jaz’s first mistake, telling me the limits of her Gift. If it caused me pain when I used it, then that meant it couldn’t work when I didn’t. Made sense as to why neither witch had been using their Gifts to fight when I first stumbled into their line of sight.
