Chapter 14

The Dream Walker

My ears ring as I roll over to my side and force myself up. Whatever that was, it was powerful. Powerful enough to toss us all about the room like we're nothing more than leaves in a gale.

It's not just me who has been thrown backwards and slammed into the wall. The soldiers, as well as the court, were thrown back, too.

On my feet, I stare at the spot where Ashe just exploded. My mouth is open, and not a single part of me seems capable of moving another inch.

She was right there. Right fucking there!

And then she threw her head back and turned to red mist before my very eyes, leaving behind a light spray of blood droplets on the floor and the wall beside her.

Gone.

Beside me is one of the corpses she took control of. It's as dead as it was before she channelled her magic and took command of it.

I look all over and grab the throat of a soldier still trying to return to his feet.

‘Where the fuck has she gone?!'

‘I…I…'

I snap his neck and drop him to the floor.

‘WHERE IS SHE?!' I yell at the rest.

I know she's not here. I would smell her if she were close.

Crouching, I run my finger along the blood she left behind and taste it. There's a bitter taste to it. The taste is disgustingly familiar and conjures memories I would rather forget. I spit it out and grimace. A taste. That's all it is. But I remember Neve killing innocents for their blood and using them for dark and sadistic spells. Their blood was polluted afterwards. The taste was just like this.

Pixie. She did it. Used her blood magic to leave.

Intentional or not. That doesn't matter right now.

She's out there alone. Somewhere.

‘Erm…' Archie looks around. ‘Where's Dorian?'

Dorian? He's gone, too. He was shadows swarming around her when she disappeared.

‘Where… where did they go?' Archie asks, looking around as if she's hiding in a corner. He then storms forward and picks up something left on the floor. ‘This is not good.'

He holds it out to me. I walk closer, and unease swirls in my stomach.

He's holding her charms. The ones to protect her from the spirits. Either she may get swarmed by the dead or take command of them as she did with the queen. Both lead her to darkness.

And if she becomes dark like Neve… No. I can't face that. I can't.

‘Are they dead?' Archie asks in a low whisper.

More soldiers get to their feet, and we make quick work of knocking them back down.

‘No.' I refuse even to entertain the idea. ‘She's alive.'

Archie takes a sword and plunges it through a man's chest.

‘What the hell do we do?' he asks, wiping blood spray from his face as we face the regrouping wall of soldiers.

There's a low groan. Both Archie and I know who it belongs to. We turn together and face Cole, who is pushing himself to his feet with his one remaining hand. We get barely a step when the guards enclose both him and the prince. Traitorous little shit stains.

‘I think it is official,' I say. ‘Our work with the humans has come to an end.'

‘Thank fuck for that. So. No more hiding?'

I look at him and his hopeful grin. ‘No more hiding, Arch.'

He releases a roar and shifts, becoming the great wolf in the blink of an eye. The court yells and hurries back, horrified at this beast's sudden appearance.

He ploughs through them as I follow, hacking at anyone in my path.

My focus lands on Cole, and all I am is vengeance. He'll pay for touching her. For using that trigger on her. But the prince has him close, and the guards are determined to protect them both.

Fire shoots past my shoulder. Turning, I see that strange little fire witch again.

I get a blast in my shoulder. The heat radiates through me, and I yell in agony, retching at the smell of my flesh burning.

Before I can turn to fight, Archie grabs me in his teeth and runs, barrelling through the soldiers as I yell out in anger.

He's running? Coward.

His massive body breaks through the doors, and we're outside, sprinting for the forest.

When we're miles clear of the prince and his men, Archie drops me and shifts back into his human form. We're at the side of a stream and far from civilisation.

‘You good?' he asks, reaching out his hand as I lie beneath him.

‘Oh. I'm great,' I snipe back, letting him lift me to my feet. I shrug off my coat and thrust it into his arms. ‘You didn't need to drag me the entire way by my arm.' I roll my shoulder, clicking it back into place. ‘You almost tore it off.'

‘Should I have left you there?' he jeers back, sliding on my coat.

‘You could have let me ride you.'

His eyes narrow in utter disgust. ‘No one rides me. I'm not a fucking horse.'

‘You let Pixie ride you,' I remind him.

‘Yeah. I did. But she lets me put my cock up her backside.' He raises a brow. ‘Wanna make me an offer, Shaw? Or are you content with the dragging?'

‘I'm fine with the dragging,' I reply.

‘Thought so.' He looks around as I head to the water. ‘I hope they're together. I'm sure they are, right? Her and Dorian, they're okay?'

I grunt my agreement. My skin still burns hot from that fire witch, and I make a note to myself to get my hands on her and return the pain she's inflicted on me tenfold. The water helps cool the wound, and when I spy the green sludge speckled with pink at the stream's edge, I grab a handful and put it on the burn.

‘Maiden's moss,' Archie says as he drinks a handful of water. ‘Pix been telling you about different plants as well?'

‘Maiden's moss to soothe burnt skin.' I feel its cooling effect and am most thankful for it. I grab some of the flat black leaves growing from the plant above. ‘And widow's son to protect from infection.' I press it on firmly, groaning against the pain. The fire the witches use is different from usual fire. It hurts like hell and takes a few days to heal. ‘Who knew the mud witches knew anything useful.'

I fall to my knees and watch the water tumble past us. The reflection of the moon breaks through the ripples of the rainfall.

‘The prince has sided with Cole and Neve then,' Archie sighs, washing the dried blood from his face and neck. ‘Did you see what Pix did?'

‘You mean, did I see the spirit of the dead queen become a fire-wielding monster? Yeah, Arch. I saw that.'

‘What else was Pix talking about?'

‘Something about her coven,' I recall. I look to the east. ‘Her valley isn't too far from here.'

‘She was talking about her coven?' he asks.

‘She was. Saying that something was happening there tonight.'

He looks up at the sky, squinting against the rain. ‘The stars. The celebration of Athir.'

‘What are you talking about?' I snap a little harsher than I expected.

‘Pix had a dream. Not just a dream. She said it was more like a premonition. A glimpse into Neve's head or something. In her dream, she saw Neve at a bone arch. It was bleeding. She had markings on her palm, and Pix said that in the sky were constellations marking it as the night of Athir.'

‘And?'

‘Shaw. It's tonight.' He points skyward. ‘Tonight is the beginning of the celebration of Athir. The prince lured us there as a trap and to keep us out of the way. We have to get to the coven. If Pix is out there, that's precisely where she would be going.'

I stand and try to ease the pain from my shoulder.

Archie looks to the east and rests his hands on his hips.

‘How long to get there, do you think?' he asks.

‘Four hours. Maybe five. If we go on foot.'

He slowly turns to face me with a furrow on his brow.

I know the desire to find our girl and Dorian as quickly as possible may well lead him to let me hitch a ride, preferably without the prospect of anal favours in return.

Archie's shoulders sag as he faces me.

‘And… if you ride me and I run?' he asks, the words almost choking him. ‘How long will it take us to reach her then?'

‘Hour. Two, maybe.' I fold my arms across my chest, enjoying his inner turmoil a little too much. ‘What do you say?'

‘Gahhhh,' he huffs, taking off my coat and shoving it back into my arms. ‘Do not pull my fur out. Don't dig your knees into my neck. And if I feel a travel boner, I will drop you on your head and leave you behind.'

‘Noted.'

‘If you tell a soul about this, I will eat you.' He stops close. ‘I'm doing this for her. No one else.'

He shifts and lowers his head. I climb on.

‘Giddy up.'

He growls a warning before he takes off, following the stream.

The road to her coven remains the same as it always has been. Beaten and untended. Hostile and far from civilisation.

The gates ahead are sealed, and several earth-witch males patrol it. We stop before they see us, and Archie returns to his male form.

‘What if she's not here?' he asks.

‘We'll figure it out,' I tell him, handing him my long coat again. ‘This is the only lead we have, and we better hope that the prince and his armies have not reached this far yet.'

Neither of us speaks of the painful possibility that she's dead or, worse, run off.

We head towards the gate.

When they see us descending, they spread the word to those inside. Their distant and panicked voices would usually be amusing, but today… today, I am not in the mood. If they make any trouble, I will level this place. And if she's in there and they have laid a hand on her, I will be their end.

One of the witches leans anxiously over the wall.

‘My Lord General,' he greets, with a tremble in his voice. ‘What an unexpected pleasure. What can we do for you?'

‘Open the gates.'

‘Our coven leader is not here.'

I know that. The fucker tried to kill me a couple of hours ago.

‘Who is in charge in his absence?' I call up.

The witch side eyes his companion.

I step forward. ‘I am sure you are aware of what will happen if you resist our entry or refuse to answer our questions. Speak, Witch.'

‘Lord Bensen is in charge.'

‘Open the gates, earth witch, and take us to him. I will not ask again.'

Begrudgingly, the witch gives the order to open the gates. And we enter.

I loathe this place. Our girl creates the most exquisite blooms. Flowers with a scent that lasts for days after first smelling. Leaves of the most lush greens.

Despite residing in the forests, there is very little life here. Mud and rock make up the roads. Dried wood and stone house the witches.

We walk through the streets, making our way to the main square.

And we wait as they rush off, seeking out their master.

‘I can't smell her, Shaw,' Arch says, inhaling deeply and looking around. ‘Not Pix. Not Dorian. Not Neve. Nothing but mud witch.'

‘Neither can I.' A part of me darkens at that realisation. That she isn't close enough to track. That I can't feel the mark I put on her skin. That she's not within reach. ‘But she may still come. And Neve, too, if what Pixie said was the truth. Keep your senses sharp.'

It's not long until the mud witches arrive, muttering in panicked whispers with this new leader of theirs. He's a fat, ageing male with long grey hair that falls to his lower back. He straightens his deep green velvet robes as he approaches, robes reserved for their ceremonies and other special occasions. He has several witches at his side and a couple of other higher-up witches behind him. I can tell by the niceness of their clothing. Pixie wore rags. These have more standing here than she did. And that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth far worse than the polluted blood she left behind.

The male, Bensen, lowers his head as he stands before us.

‘My Lord General,' he says, a tremble in his voice as he dares not meet my gaze. ‘What a pleasure to have you here tonight. Usually, I would welcome you with open arms, but… unfortunately… tonight is, well…' He glances around, checking no doubt to see if Archie and I are the only threat to be seen. ‘We are to start our ceremony in the next hour, and as you are aware, these are private and restricted ceremonies that…' He takes a step back as my eyes narrow and my patience thins. ‘H-how may I be of service?' He decides to say in conclusion.

I know I'm not supposed to be here when they do their archaic and heathenistic little rituals. It's part of the treaty between them and the humans. But seeing as we're no longer in the human's employ, the rules apply to us even less than they did before.

With a single stride, I remove any space between us. My hand grips his collar, and his feet lift from the ground.

‘I do not give a flying-ever-loving-fuck about your ceremonies and rituals, Bensen. I'm looking for a witch.'

‘A w-witch?' he laughs nervously, his feet still swaying as I hold him up. ‘Well. We have a few of those here.'

‘Ashe Nectan. She here?'

His face falls as I speak her name, and his unease turns to a mixture of terror and revulsion.

‘S-she is d-dead, My General. I mean, My Lord… General… sir.'

I lift him higher so his fat little face is in mine.

‘Is she here?'

He shakes his head and stutters an incoherent stream of sentences with no beginning, middle or end. The stench of fear oozes from him. But not dishonesty.

‘This ceremony of yours. Where does it take place?' I ask. ‘The fire pit in the woods?'

He nods.

‘If anything is to happen, it would be during that,' Archie murmurs. ‘We should stay.'

I agree.

‘You will take me to the former home of Ashe Nectan,' I tell Bensen. ‘And you will tell no one else that we are here.'

‘She is dead, My Lord. Ashe Nectan is dead. She is not there!'

‘And I require the following men to be brought to me at her residence. Gates. Yarling. Kressiter. Langly. And Holt. The elder males of each. Not the young men. Am I understood?'

I drop him, leaving him to scramble to his feet and straighten his cloak.

Pathetic little man.

‘Am I understood?' I repeat. ‘Or should I come to your house instead?'

Bensen hastily nods and issues his orders to retrieve the men.

‘Lead the way,' I command.

Pixie's bed is so small. I feel huge in her room. The ceilings are low. The furniture battered and held together with dust and prayers. I was here in her dreams once. That first night, when I walked with her. That strange and wild girl who I expected to be terrified as I appeared in her room. I wanted to scare her. To make her plead for the mercy her kind never showed anyone, or to prove that her nature was precisely what I expected. That she would try to kill me before I killed her.

But she didn't.

She leant into my depravity and violence. She welcomed it wholeheartedly and found comfort there. She was the perfect fit for my twisted desires.

And now I have lost her.

I sniff, catching a familiar yet repugnant scent. When I make my way towards the bed, I crouch down and see the source of the smell.

Dried blood soaked into the floorboards.

It's old and smells putrid compared to her fresh scent.

Hanging over a chair are three leather belts. Each is placed precisely three inches apart and with the buckles visible. Her blood and skin cling to the buckles and the leather. Her father left them there to taunt and warn her. I find myself wishing that we had dragged out his suffering longer than we did.

The dirty dress she wore when we first laid eyes on her lies abandoned across the bottom of her bed, and when I walk towards the window, I see how they've been nailed shut. There are chunks of fingernails embedded into the wood where she's tried to pull them out.

‘Pixie…'

I whisper her name without intention.

As if I'm speaking to the ghost of the girl who lived here. As if she may hear me and know that in the future, there will be someone who gives a shit about her. That she won't be alone here forever.

There's a full-length mirror to the side. A dark grey cloak has been thrown over it. It smells of her.

This whole room does.

‘Shaw!' Archie calls from inside the house. ‘I need you.'

I leave her old room and join him downstairs.

Bensen is lighting a fire in the fireplace as Archie pulls on an old shirt and a pair of trousers.

Pixie will not enjoy seeing him in her dead father's clothes. And judging by how Archie sniffs and grimaces, he's not enjoying it too much, either.

He raises his attention to the stand-in coven leader.

‘I'm curious,' Archie says. ‘Were you at the last blood rite, Bensen?'

‘The… the last blood rite?'

‘Yes. The last blood rite. That age-old ritual where young witches add their blood to the fire in order to release their magic, and then you all fuck like rabbits under the blood moon. Were you present at the one just passed?'

Bensen attempts to stand taller, puffing out his chest and clearing his throat before replying.

‘With all due respect. The blood rite is a sacred wiccan ritual and is of no concern to anyone beyond the covens.'

The words spill from his mouth like vomit. Uncontrolled and inelegant. His attempts to stand confident and brave fail him in spectacular fashion.

Archie smirks, finding him amusing.

‘Were you present?' Archie asks again. ‘And be aware, if you do not answer my questions, I will remove a finger from your person.'

Please don't answer, I think to myself, imagining how beautiful his screams would be as Archie tore off his little finger.

Bensen nods once.

‘I-I was,' he admits.

Archie leans forward a little. ‘Do you recall Ashe Nectan taking part in the blood rite?' he asks, gesturing to the room. ‘This was her house. She lived here with her father. Jameson Nectan.'

He gives a vague shrug. It's comical how he pales.

‘T-there were a fair amount of p-participants.'

Archie glances at me for the briefest of seconds.

I nod.

And he descends quickly. By the time the witch sees him, Archie has his little finger in hand.

Literally.

Torn from his body with extreme ease and a rare elegance only Archie seems to possess.

Bensen screams and looks at his bloody stump as Archie tosses his pinkie to me.

‘I'll give you a reminder, shall I?' I ask, examining the finger in my palm. Complete with a white gold signet ring that I think Pix may like. It's small enough to fit on her index finger, and the small gem will match her eyes perfectly. ‘She's a pain in the arse. Has one hell of a filthy mouth. Swears like a village raider. Hair as silver as starlight and big doe eyes.' I lift my gaze. ‘And you tied her to a tree, tore off her clothes, sliced her to ribbons and tried to kill her. Ring any bells? Fail to answer again, and Archie will take your entire arm.'

‘Yes! Yes, she was there!' he sobs, clutching his hand. ‘She's dead, General. I don't know what you think occurred that night, but I assure you… s-s-she's not any form of problem. She refused the Rite and was dealt with. A-as your laws command.'

‘She's not dead,' I tell him. And the stunned look on his face is authentic. ‘And you and I both know that she was not tied to that tree because she refused to do the rite.'

‘No. No, she is dead. Cole LeSaint saw to it. She is dead.'

‘Cole LeSaint.' I grind out his name and curl my fist around that small finger, pulverising it into mush before wiping the mess onto the leg of my trousers. ‘Has Cole been here of late?'

He swallows dryly. But it's clear he has no fortitude to withstand us long. He's already admitted that Pixie was at the blood rite. He may insist that her crime was refusing the Rite, but he knows the truth. If he had been there, he would have seen the flames declare her a blood witch. He would have seen Archie attack in his wolf form. He would have cut her along with all the others.

‘Cole is away.'

‘No one from a coven is away without our knowledge or approval. Cole has not been seen here for more than three weeks. Coincidently, just before a load of your grubby little witches attacked our castle.'

If he was pale before, he's grey now. I wonder where all that blood has vanished to.

‘I am not here about your attack on my castle,' I say, brushing it off. ‘We had something that belonged to you, and you took it back. It was expected. I'm actually surprised it took you as long as it did to reclaim your grimoire.'

Bensen's surprise is clear.

‘T-then why are you here? Just for the girl?'

‘For the girl,' I repeat.

‘She is not here. Cole lost his mind after his father's death and the death of his bride-to-be. Miss Nectan. A great wolf attacked us on the night of the blood rite. The wolf killed them both before his eyes. He was unable to move past it and swore those at the blood rite to complete secrecy, on pain of death, that we would not tell anyone about any of it. He then became aware that the grimoire was in your possession. Many of us implored him to approach you and request it back. If that was even true, to begin with. He was consumed with rage and instead led a group of witches to your castle to retrieve the grimoire himself. He has not been seen since. And My Lord General, may I say, I never supported his ascension to coven leader. I always found him too young and fool-hearted. I mean, choosing the Nectan girl to begin with when we all knew she was not quite right in the head. Her and her status-grabbing father both. We all told Cole that she was a poor choice for a wife. But he refused to listen. He never listened to any of my wisdom and look at where that has landed him.'

Archie looks at me with a raised brow. I meet him with one much the same.

They do not make coven elders as they used to. Formidable they were. We could take weeks breaking them apart, and they would never speak a word if it meant betraying their covens.

Now… this is the best they can do? A simpering ladder climber ready to spill sacred secrets to save himself.

Lucky for us, I suppose.

‘So you have no idea where Cole is now or what he is doing?' I ask.

‘No,' he replies, his head low as he shakes his head. ‘He attended the swearing-in at the king's palace with my niece and organised the attack to happen as you were in attendance. Neither have been seen since.'

‘Your niece?' Archie asks, stepping closer to the man. ‘Thalia is your niece?'

He straightens his back, perhaps realising his mistake in mentioning a family member.

‘Yes. I had hoped that when Cole chose her as his bride in place of the Nectan creature, the coven would have a chance. Sadly, a woman is not to be trusted to help the ambitions of a powerful man. She is not the girl I hoped and has left along with him.'

‘You can do it better, yes?' Archie teases. ‘Be a stronger and more fearsome coven leader?'

‘Of course, My Lord. I'm your man. I assure you.'

‘So. Do you have the earth grimoire in your possession now?' I ask.

But he shakes his head.

‘None of them returned after going to reclaim it. An act I was firmly against, may I remind you. We assumed they either perished or were with Cole.'

The door to Ashe's home opens, and Bensen's man brings in five others, guiding them inside by their elbows as they look around in startled confusion.

‘General,' Bensen laughs nervously as he watches me face them. ‘These men are of little to no importance. If you require anything, please let me know, and I will be sure you are accommodated.'

Archie and I stop before the five men.

‘Gates. Yarling. Kressiter. Langly. And Holt?' I ask.

‘Yes, General,' they all reply. One of them steps forwards. ‘How may we be of service?'

I smile.

‘I believe you know a young witch by the name of Ashe Nectan,' I tell them. Only the one who spoke meets my eyes. The others continue glaring at the floor. ‘Am I correct?'

‘We knew her father,' he replies.

‘Yes. You did. I believe you knew Ashe quite well, too.'

‘Not enough to warrant a problem with you, My Lord General.'

‘And why would your knowing her cause a problem with us?' I ask.

He looks between me and Bensen.

‘Speak freely, Langly.'

‘I want nothing to do with a traitor who flees her coven,' he insists. ‘Besides. She is dead. And a good job, too.'

‘No,' Shaw replies, stepping closer to him. ‘She is not dead.'

‘You are looking for her?' he says, suddenly very interested. He looks at Bensen, who nods his further approval to speak freely. ‘No one has seen her since the blood rite. But if you require our help finding her, we will oblige.'

‘And why would you do that? If we are seeking her, it is safe to assume that we mean her harm.'

‘She was never a good witch. Always too wild and unruly.' He laughs as if relieved, looking at his friends and nudging their arms. ‘They are seeking Ashe. She will not last long with them on her trail, hey lads?'

The prick is still laughing as he faces us. We don't react. Just watch.

‘We were told she tried to refuse the blood rite and died when she attempted to run,' another of the men adds. ‘Trouble, that one. A complete anomaly in the coven. So unlike the earth witch women we raise here.'

‘Is that so?' Archie asks with a forced smile. No one else can tell it is nothing but a warning of the anger he's forming inside.

‘Yes, My Lord. I hope you do not judge the rest of us on her behaviour or her nature. Her mother and father should have just allowed her to die as an infant. A sickly little thing she was. I remember her always bawling, driving her poor parents mad with stress.'

‘You think of her as a child often, do you?' Archie asks.

His smile falters.

‘Whatever you plan on doing with her,' another of them continues. ‘You will find no complaints from us. And if we can help in any way to track her down, we shall, of course, assist you. Anything to guarantee your kindness.'

I step closer, towering over the man by more than a full head.

‘What little kindness exists in me exists for one reason. And one reason alone. For my future wife. Though she may argue I have no kindness in me with recent events.'

‘Y-you are to marry?' He glances at Bensen briefly. ‘C-congratulations.'

‘I believe you know of her.'

‘M-my Lord?' he asks, still trying to maintain his composure.

‘I believe you and your friends here forced her to degrade herself for you. That you tormented her. Abused her.'

His eyes widen in understanding. The slow creature finally understands.

‘A-Ashe is your… your…' he whispers, unable to complete his sentence.

‘So what do you think a monster like me will do to men like you? Men who hurt arguably the only creature I have ever cared about? Men who caused irreversible pain to the only reason I have ever shown any mercy or kindness in my very long life?'

‘Whatever she has said to you is a lie,' he garbles, trembling from head to toe. ‘A vicious lie. You cannot trust her. A liar through and through. And a traitor. A disgrace. An abomination.'

‘For the love of the gods, man,' Bensen hisses. ‘Shut up!'

‘You call her a liar?' I growl, my hand wrapping firmly around his throat. I lift him from the ground. ‘You dare?'

Archie laughs, dancing on the balls of his feet as his eyes start to turn into their wolfish yellow.

I pull the paedophile in close and show him my teeth.

‘We have something in common, you and I,' I tell him. ‘We both very much enjoy watching those weaker than us cry.' I grip his arm and start to pull. ‘And scream.' He cries out as his bones dislocate. But I keep pulling until the flesh begins to rip. ‘And bleed.'

I drop his severed arm to the floor and look behind him to the others who stare in horror. I laugh as Archie locks the door, sealing them inside with us.

‘How long until they light the fire?' I ask.

‘An hour,' Bensen whispers in reply, utterly frozen with fear.

I look at the other men. ‘Plenty of time. Now would be a good time to start screaming.'