13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

D awn crept over the trees as they arrived at the witch temple. Despite managing a few hours of sleep after last evening's incident, exhaustion still clawed at Elaine. Aya remained wrapped in her silence, wearing it like armor as they'd departed the house.

A low mist gathered along the grass, the spidery fingers threading among the trees. Tiny clouds of breath swirled at Elaine's lips, the chill of the morning already beginning to bleed away as the sun seeped its warmth across Purgatory. In the hazy, golden-brushed light, the temple seemed almost welcoming. Perhaps in another life, it might've even been a home.

She didn't realize that the four of them had stopped at the tree line and that a silence had fallen over them until Tobias spoke.

"I must confess, never thought I'd be walking into this temple. Not after, well…"

Aya snorted. "I threw the head of Honoria's sister through those gates?"

Tobias slapped a hand over his chest, feigning shock. "That was you? But you're so nice!"

"I am nice." Aya folded her arms across her chest, one brow lifted. "She wasn't."

Oh gods. Elaine pinched the bridge of her nose. "Can we please table the murder of witches for later? I did assure them we wouldn't threaten or harm them."

Sabra snorted as she strode past and out of the tree line. "Kill the fun for the rest of us, why don't you?"

"I'm trying to arrange alliances!" Elaine retorted.

"I say we should've just found a way to bust through the wards and rob the place," said Sabra. "That would've been much more fun. This way feels so boring. "

"Gods forbid we do something without chaos and murder first," Elaine muttered.

Sabra rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have killed anyone."

It was then Aya swept past. "It wasn't you she was worried about." As the golden gates approached, the guards moving into position to greet them, Aya threw a wink over her shoulder. "I'll be on my very best behavior, I promise."

Elaine bit back a snort as she greeted the guards first, who mercifully didn't attack them on site.

"We're here to speak to the Grand Matron. She's expecting us."

It was a lie of sorts. Whilst Elaine agreed and swore the oath before she left, she never specified when they would return. She said she wanted to speak to the others about it first. Then everything else happened and there wasn't time to send word ahead.

A silent conversation played between the guards, passed through short, sharp looks before one broke away. The others resumed their stony vigil, perfectly poised for an attack.

It felt like an eternity before the young witch returned, Grand Matron Tarla at her side. The powerful witch eyed Aya first, then Sabra and Tobias before it settled upon Elaine. A warning lingered unsaid in the air. The wound on Elaine's chest thrummed with warmth, a reminder of the oath struck. Of what it meant if anyone stepped out of line.

Tarla stopped just behind the guards. "Let them in. They have my blessing."

One by one, they passed beyond the gates. The ward passed over her skin with a faint prickle, the hairs lifting along the nape of her neck. Once more, she was back within a temple.

Suddenly, Aya was at her side, whistling softly. "Never imagined I'd be here again."

"Hopefully a little less decapitation this time?" Elaine whispered.

One brow lifted imperiously. "You're determined to ruin my fun, aren't you?"

"A little matter of a blood oath."

A pause. "Yes, that ."

Conversation tumbled away as Tarla beckoned them to follow.

As they made their way toward the main temple, a few witches ceased their prayer before the statue of Dianera. Watched them with wide, wary eyes. To no surprise, much was for Aya.

Tarla raised her hand, the doors opening by themselves on command. Inside, the silence of the temple greeted them. No morning songs, no witches scurrying about with plates of offerings or candles to be lit. Had Tarla commanded her witches away, still concerned despite the oath? Or was it by their own choice to steer far from her?

They passed through the same twisting halls she walked recently and continued deeper into the temple. Up a flight of stairs, they stopped before a simple black door engraved with the symbol of Dianera, painted in shimmering gold.

"I trust that whatever you learn here, you don't discuss it with the council," Tarla said as she held the door open.

"Of course," said Elaine.

The office, to her surprise, was simpler than she expected. Smaller too. Barely half the size of the one she'd spoken with Tarla in. Only a single square window, framed by simple curtains, afforded natural light from the morning sun. The golden glow alighted over the plain but sturdy wooden desk, a matching chair and several chests set along the wall.

"This is it?" Aya asked skeptically.

"The Grand Matron moved into this office a little over a year ago. It's the most remote room and the only access is by the stairs we ascended."

Easy to guard against, even from her own people.

Elaine walked in, opening the first chest. Stacks of scrolls were stacked neatly inside. A quick inspection of a couple revealed maps of Purgatory, some incredibly old, others with the ink still bright and crisp. She discovered a few of the Dusk Quarter, detailed outlines of all the streets and burrows. Even from her brief visit to the quarter, the map made her realize just how big it actually was and just how many people must live there.

She was browsing through the other chests when she happened upon one crammed with diaries. Most were written in different handwritings, the entries baffling. She didn't know who most of them were written by since they were signed off by single letters.

"Who do these belong to?"

Tarla glided over. "Locals of Purgatory; mostly witches, a vampire, a couple of humans as well. Histories of this land, mainly."

Elaine nodded as she went to open one and it didn't budge. Her brow dipped. "What—?"

"Ah, I was hoping you might be able to open those."

"Who did these belong to?"

"That, " began Tarla with a little huff, "I have no idea. The covers and spines are without any details, though it must have belonged to a witch to be sealed like this. I have tried myself and even let a few of my witches I trust to try."

"You let them in here?" Aya asked from across the room.

Tarla snorted. "Of course not. I took the books to them. None were successful, of course. I can't even make sense of the enchantment on it. I haven't seen anything like it before."

"Neither have I," said Elaine, still frowning. "A few old texts in the Arcan temple—the place I grew up—had sealed books but they bore Arcan's marks. Those could only ever be opened by a handful of selected witches."

"Can you try?" A note of desperation rang from Tarla's voice.

Elaine pressed her palm over the diary and closed her eyes. She stretched her mind over the book, noting the enchantment sealing it shut. It wasn't…

Her eyes flew open, and she held it to Aya.

Aya snorted. "Me? I'm not a witch."

"I want to test something out."

Aya offered a little skeptical look before she took the offered diary. As Elaine expected nothing happened. It didn't open when Aya tried, despite her rather violent attempts. As she was about to throw it against the wall, Elaine plucked it back. A heaviness settled on her shoulders, the truth of the diary settling in her stomach like a stone.

She must've tuned out because suddenly Aya was in front of her, gently touching the side of her face. Blinking several times, Aya's face sharpened into view, worry clear as day there. A sharp breath nearly tore free. Aya was sometimes possessive of her in public but never tender, not like this. Especially not in the company of a witch she didn't know.

"What's going in that head of yours?"

"It's been sealed by a witch of the Tyrenian order. That's why none of us can open it. Between the two of us, we cover all but that goddess."

Tarla leaned against the desk, frowning deeply. "Then why would Honoria have it if she couldn't open it?"

Oh.

Elaine's gaze flew to Aya, and the pair spoke at once, " Yrene. "

Tarla stiffened. "Who?"

"A witch who pretended to be human. She was mated to one of the assassins who went after Calix, all under Honoria's order. She died recently in childbirth," Elaine explained as set the diary aside. "We have her grimoire but that wasn't sealed. So why are these?"

In the corner of the room, Sabra snorted softly. "Obviously because it has dangerous information inside of it. That or it doesn't even belong to her, and we were wrong about her being the only one of the order in Purgatory. The spirits believed the order destroyed but what if they were wrong?"

Yrene was still a mystery to Elaine. They understood she worked with Honoria, likely in an attempt to free the goddess she worshipped. But there was so much they didn't understand. Was it just her pregnancy with Ryker's son that caused the rift with Honoria? Or had she learned of the price to be paid if her goddess was freed? And if Sabra was right, if the diary didn't belong to her, who did own it?

She set the book aside, not liking it as more questions kept piling on top of them. "Let's keep going through the rest of the books, set aside everything that's sealed. If Honoria believed there was more like Yrene in Purgatory, then we should start looking."

Tobias, who to this point, was quietly reading in his corner on a chair, looked up. "Nora might be our best bet for that."

A chill stole down Elaine's spine. She'd nearly forgotten all about the deal she struck with the syren to save Aya. The debt hadn't been called in, meaning she'd been able to shove it to the deepest corner of her mind.

Oh fuck.

She froze. She hadn't told Aya about the deal.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Elaine?" Aya's voice speared through.

"I'm fine!" she squawked, hating how her voice cracked. "Let's just get to work."

And not at all think about the fact you're probably going to want to strangle me later.

It was beyond bizarre to be back inside a temple, let alone a few feet from a Grand Matron. One that apparently didn't want her dead. Refreshing, yes, but strange.

An ache throbbed behind her eye when she pushed back another book. The lack of sleep recently was starting to catch up on her. She could've easily curled up in bed, sleeping for at least a whole week. Once Purgatory was safe that was exactly what she planned to do.

She reached for another cursed book when the door flew open. It slammed against the stone with a thunderous bang. Aya was on her feet in a flash, standing in front of Elaine. Sabra and Tobias were at her side a second later, teeth and claws bared. Elaine scrambled to her feet, heart pounding as a woman swept in.

A witch.

"Lola, what's wrong?"

"Demons, they're attacking the ward! One got through and ripped Sendry in half!"

"What?"

It was then the ringing cry of bells sounded down the hallway. Tarla was striding past them, throwing her cloak aside mid-stride. Ribbons of light sparked along her arms, wrapping them like gloves. She stopped in the doorway, turning to meet Elaine's gaze. Hope, and a little desperation burned in her eyes.

"Don't suppose you'd be willing to help?"

Elaine was already slipping past Aya. "Of course."

Everyone rushed from the room, no argument, the decision already made. She shot Aya a startled look as they hurried through the main chamber. Aya glanced at her once but quickly looked away, silent. Something flashed too quickly in those fathomless pools to read. Elaine's gut clenched, suspecting she'd just mis-stepped, and cursed as she realized Aya saw the surprise in her eyes. That she wasn't about to let the witches be ripped apart.

Tarla threw the main doors open.

Screams split the air. The second Elaine was through the doors, the ward around the temple exploded. Shards of light rained down. Demons exploded through; the hellish wolf-life creatures accompanied by soldiers, their dark armor stark against the green. Shadows trailed in their way as they sprinted forward; inhuman, guttural roars tearing out, promising death.

Screaming for blood.

Demon soldiers and witches collided in a clash of magic and claw and fang. Screams and roars bled into one, tangling together.

Elaine flung herself forward, calling on Vikra's magic. Gloves of ice wrapped around her fists, stretching up her arms. Aya flew past her, death unleashed, and a second later, Tobias in wolf form was by Elaine.

A soldier sprinted right to Elaine. She flung out a blast of ice. He darted out the way, pivoting back upon her, swinging his blade. She side-stepped, metal spear past her cheek. Heart-pounding, she doubled back, thrusting out a blast of ice.

In a flash, she was on her back. The back of her head struck the hard earth. Stars splintered across her vision.

Someone screamed her name—Aya, maybe?

Metal swung down, glinting in sunlight.

A flash of white leapt over her, colliding into the demon. Elaine scrambled to her feet as Tobias sunk his teeth into the soldier's throat, ripping it clean out. Blood arced across the air, splattering the grass. Droplets splashed Elaine's cheek. She scrambled to her feet, sucking in the air, trying desperately to clear her mind.

Focus, idiot, focus!

A wolf-like demon launched at Tobias. In a flash, she thrust out her palms. Light roared out in a singular blast, tearing through the air in a deafening bang. The world turned white.

Color screamed back, shapes cleaving reality into focus. Tobias looked around, ears flat against his fur, as ash fell like snow. Alive, unharmed.

Thank you, he said.

"Thank me later," she said roughly and turned to the chaos.

More demons poured from the trees, both wolf and soldier alike. Dread flooded her veins.

Across the field of death and blood, Aya met her gaze. The fiery gleam in her eyes, like cold death, seemed at home among the carnage. As if this was her home, a creature of war. Terrifying and beautiful, something forged of nightmares and dreams. Elaine never loved her more.

Where the fuck is Sabra? Tobias bellowed.

She snapped into focus as more demons rushed at them. She tried to look for Sabra, but the constant attacks forced her focus elsewhere. Where was she? Was she okay? There was no time to focus as she barely held her own, struggling against their speed and ferocity. Muscles burned and every blast of magic sapped a little more from her.

Her wells of magic were drying up—and fast.

If this fight didn't end soon, she was fucked.

More than once, she was slammed to the ground or flung through the air. Blood ran down the side of her face, staining her lips scarlet. The metallic taste burned her lips. She spat it away as she rolled out of the way. Metal hissed a mere hair's breadth from her throat.

No sooner had she turned around, Aya was in front of her, and the world turned to darkness.

An inhuman roar split the air.

Someone screamed, the sound cut off suddenly, gurgling into silence.

The fetid stench of blood choked the air.

The darkness fell away. Aya faced her, cupping her face.

"Are you okay?"

She tried to form a reply when movement flashed beyond Aya's shoulder. A sword swinging in for the kill. Aya slammed her hand into Elaine's chest, throwing her back. As Elaine fell to the ground, she watched as Aya pivoted sharply and thrust a dagger up beneath the soldier's helmet.

The sword in his hand clattered to the ground.

Aya was back at her side, hand outstretched. The second Elaine took her hand, she was hauled to her feet. The world tilted suddenly, sending her staggering into Aya. Gods, if she was going to stand a chance, she really needed to get a handle on her powers.

"D-don't suppose you can raise an army like before?"

Aya sucked in deep breath, cheeks flushed and glistening. "There's no dead here."

"Well, fuck, Aya what are—"

Elaine's gaze snapped on a familiar blue figure in the middle of the fray.

Sabra, standing over a soldier—a sharp-faced soldier with flowing black hair, blue skin, just like Sabra. One horn curled up from their hair, the other one a broken stump. But it wasn't the soldier that turned her still.

But Sabra.

At the look in her eyes.

Like she'd seen a ghost.

Her lips moved, wobbling. Sabra swayed.

The soldier was surging to her feet. Metal glinted in the sun. Elaine screamed as she threw out a hand on instinct. A single dagger carved of ice shot through the air—and slammed right into the side of the demon soldier.

Sabra cried out, dropped to her knees. Elaine was rushing to her when Sabra reached for the soldier, tears streaming down her face—as if she hadn't just been about to be murdered.

Barely several feet away, the soldier threw out a palm. Shadows burst from her hand, sending Sabra flying.

Aya flew past Elaine, a blur of shadow.

Elaine saw red. She exploded toward the soldier, ice in one hand, fire in the other.

Dark eyes flicked up, found hers.

The demon smiled, then vanished into a cloud of smoke.

She stopped dead where the soldier had been only a second before. Curses spilled freely from her lips as she looked around. The demons vanished from the temple grounds before her very eyes, leaving only bodies littering the grass. Some demons, mostly witches.

Ice slid down her spine. There had been so few witches left according to Tarla.

As if summoned, the Grand Matron appeared, ashen at the carnage.

"I-I'm sorry," Elaine whispered.

Tarla nodded numbly. "You fought. Y-you all did."

The words were little more than a whisper, hollow, as if Tarla herself wasn't aware of the words. All the death laid before her hadn't set in.

Her legs buckled. Tarla hit the ground before Elaine could catch her.

She reached for the matron, half-expecting her to slap away the touch. But Tarla remained still in her arms, still staring at the mess. Blood splattered her own cheeks, her fine robes tattered from the fight.

"So many."

Elaine remained silent, offering only what she could. A touch, a reminder Tarla wasn't alone.

Tarla doubled over, a broken sound, like an animal dying, cleaving from her lips. Elaine held on, whispering that her witches died fighting, that their deaths weren't in vain. That she would find out a way to avenge those witches, fix Purgatory—and if necessary, kill the gods. Because if this whole mess was completely by their hands, she was going to make them regret giving her their blessing.

She would become their worst nightmare.

She remained by Tarla's side as Aya gently scooped up each witch, delivering them to Dianera's statue. She placed them down with such tenderness, even brushing the hair away from their bloodied and battered faces.

One by one, cleaning the field until only the bodies of the demons lay discarded on the ground.

Sabra kneeled by one, seeming to inspect it with a distracted graze, looking for something. But what? And what happened just before with that demon? The questions thickened in her throat, demanding answers.

From the occasional look both Aya and Tobias threw at their friend, it was clear the sentiment was shared.

After what felt like hours, a young witch appeared before Tarla. Elaine released her hold on the matron, rising shakily. The heavy use of magic left her drained, her body begging for sleep. She could barely stand and prayed the demons kept away.

The witch hesitated as she cleared her throat. "Grand Matron…"

"What is it?"

"Honoria's office. A demon got in. Some of us fought back but much of the books and scrolls were destroyed." The witch dropped to her knees. "Forgive us, we have failed you."

Tarla stepped shakily away from Elaine, set a single hand on the witch's shoulder. "You haven't failed me. You have made me proud. Gather up those who can walk and tend to the injured. We will have prayers at dusk and pass their souls to Dianera."

Elaine sucked in a deep breath. The attack hadn't been for her or the witches.

It was for Honoria's office.