A Nameless Witch (19 page)

"My apologies, mistress."

"Quite all right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to face the next trial."

"By yourself?" asked Gwurm.

I nodded.

Newt stood in my way. "But, mistress, I'm your familiar. My place is by your side."

"Not this time."

I stepped around the duck.

"What happened to your limp?" he asked.

I hesitated at the edge of darkness. "Oh, that. I don't need that either. Wait here. I'll be back shortly. Or not at all."

I slipped into the night and went in search of my trial. My thoughts were elsewhere, but an omen in the clouds told me I wouldn't be looking for long. It was already waiting for me in the overgrown fields.

Two shadows rose from the grass. One was a skulking ghoul. The other was a slip of a young girl. The creature that I might have been and the woman I should have been. Reflections given substance through powerful sorcery.

"You didn't really think to leave us in that basement?" asked the ghoul.

"We will always be with you," said the woman. "We have always been."

"I know. We all carry many selves, but in the end, these are just phantoms of possibility, nothing more than ghosts of broken destinies."

The ghoul cackled. "Ghosts no more."

"So I see. But even the greatest sorcery can't serve three fates from a single portion of destiny."

"Yes," said the woman. "And that is why only one of us will walk from this field."

"And I shall be that one," hissed the ghoul.

"We shall see, sister," replied the woman.

None of us could kill the other because, at this moment, none were true enough to die. This was why neither Wyst, Newt, nor Gwurm could be of any help. Only I could return my shadows to the nether from which they'd been summoned, and I could only do this by keeping them from snatching away my identity. Reality was on my side. Yet this might not be enough. Reality was a fickle ally at best.

The ghoul struck first. She was my curse unchecked by Ghastly Edna's witchly lessons of patience. The woman stood back, smiling as if victory were already hers.

The ghoul leaped, hands outstretched to wrap around my throat. As if she could throttle her existence from me. As if I could be slain by strangling. Her technique was instinctive and direct, but I was her match in speed. I struck her across the jaw with a backhanded fist. She fell to one knee.

The ghoul raised her head, grinning. Blood dribbled down her chin. "Very good, witch. You stand revealed for what you are. A creature of strength and power. Do you not feel the gush within your undead heart when you call upon your curse? Do you see now that all your magic is just a trifle? It will let you down one day. But your curse, that shall always be there for you. For me."

The ghoul darted to one side faster than I could follow. Raking claws tore open my face. I raised a hand to defend myself, but she ducked aside. Her first attack had been a feint. She was quicker than she'd let on.

A fist smashed into my back and knocked the wind from lungs that didn't really need air. "Surprised, witch? Fast as you are, deadly as you are, I am far deadlier." She latched on to my throat and squeezed until vertebrae cracked. "I am your physical power developed to its ultimate. Beside me, you are a weakling. Where is your magic now?" She dropped me into the grass.

I sat up. My breath was ragged. My face was bloodied, and a terrible rage growled within.

"You can't deny it. You want to be me, to feel the certainty that I feel. To know your purpose without question. To seduce and slaughter and glut yourself on delectable mortal flesh. Your conscience is your misery. It is a burden that I don't have, and a burden you yearn to be rid of."

I was tempted, and I felt my reality trickle into the ghoul. Her murky body thickened as mine darkened. I could see her now. Truly see her. She was a hideous creature, every bit as flawless as I, but there was more to beauty than full breasts and green eyes. Her movements were jerking. Her eyes were full of fiendish hunger. Her lips ever snarled, even as she grinned. Her hair was a shimmering black tangle falling like a cape across her back.

I ran fingers across my stinging knuckles and torn face. There was truth in her words, but it was a small truth.

"Conscience is my burden, but all worthwhile gifts have their price."

She shuddered. The stream of existence reversed, and she began to fade.

"But it could be so simple," the ghoul hissed. "Why hold on to that which only makes your life difficult?"

"Because life is complicated and difficult. Anyone who says otherwise hasn't truly lived."

She melted into the earth, but not without one last gasp. "I'll be back. No one can resist their nature forever."

I didn't deny this. To do so would have been arrogant, and arrogance would have been the first step toward her prediction.

"One day, witch, you will wake up to discover I have become you."

"Maybe one day. But not tonight."

The ghoul faded away to a black spot on the ground.

"She never had a chance," said the woman.

"She had a chance." My wounds disappeared. They had never been real. "Just not much of one."

The woman stepped before me. "I, on the other hand, have already won."

"I know."

The stream rushed into the woman. My stolen substance filled her. She was a pretty creature, not nearly as beautiful as I. But I could see myself in her slightly plumper figure and soft brown eyes.

She lowered her head. "I'm sorry."

"You only take what I offer."

It was a strange thing. I didn't surrender myself to her because I hated what I was or because mortality was all that tempting a fate. I liked being a witch, and I'd grown accustomed to my curse. It denied me little. Nothing but the one desire I couldn't ignore anymore.

"He won't love me," she said. "I may be you, but I am not the you he knows."

It was true, but it didn't make any difference. I loved Wyst, and my heart fantasized that as a woman, he could love me back. It was an unlikely dream. Even if I weren't undead, he would still be a White Knight. Dreams are rarely founded on truth, and this sorcery drew on my deepest wishes. I couldn't change those. Even with magic.

"I'm sorry" The woman wiped a tear from her eye.

I sank into the dark earth and for an instant I knew what it was to be a ghost of destiny. But it was brief, even for an instant.

Magic, not my own, crackled through the air. The earth spit me out, and I snapped back into truth. The woman fell at my feet. I felt a terrible pity for her, but she just smiled ever so softly before fading into oblivion. The second trial was finished. Once again, I was alone.

The woman may have been my heart's desire, but my curse was more powerful than this sorcery and my innermost yearnings. Nasty Larry denied my escape even through altered destiny.

I could've become the ghoul. The curse wouldn't have minded, but Ghastly Edna had saved me from that. Her education had given me more than magic. If she'd been here, I would have thanked her.

She would have most certainly replied, "We all save ourselves, child, even if we are fortunate enough to have help along the way."

Smiling, I offered her silent thanks anyway and headed back to the camp.

23

U
pon my return, Wyst
was still gone, and I worried. I didn't fear for his safety. He could take care of himself well enough. But I'd sensed our brief embrace had shaken his virtue, and a White Knight's virtue was his greatest possession, his defining quality. Though he'd agreed to the minor violation, I never should have put him in the position to make it. Terrible errors are rarely made all at once. Usually they are performed one small misstep at a time. It had been wrong to ask, but I couldn't make myself feel bad about what had happened in my cellar. This wasn't surprising. The wrong thing often feels right. Such is the nature of temptation.

I took my place beside the campfire without saying a word. Gwurm handed me some bloody flesh to chew upon. Newt couldn't contain his impatience.

"Well?"

I sucked on my fingers. "It's done."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"You defeated the second trial?"

I chuckled. "Me? No, I'm afraid not." Ghastly Edna and Nasty Larry had overcome the trial.

"So you lost?"

"No."

Newt grunted. "I miss the old bat. She may not have told me everything, but I don't remember her being so confounding."

I realized that as much as I loved Ghastly Edna, we were two very different witches. She'd lived by herself with a duck and a cursed girl, both of which did whatever she told them to without question. She might offer a verbal riddle here or there, but she'd spoken little. I was part of a much larger world and demands were made on my witchliness that I'd never seen my mistress face. I liked playing with words, watching how they might say so much and so little at once.

"Is the second trial over then?" Newt dared ask.

I nodded.

"Good. Two more then?"

I nodded again.

"Any idea when the next one is?"

I didn't answer.

"Forget I asked." He put aside his confusion. I'd given him enough practice at it.

Nothing was said after that. Newt and Gwurm went to sleep, but I wasn't tired. I contemplated the overcast night. A soft breeze swept across the fields, and my hair frolicked in the air. It had been a long time since it had been free to dance with the wind.

"I knew you were going to be trouble," said Wyst's horse.

His unsolicited comment surprised me. Up to now, the beast and I hadn't spoken. He'd been spurning me, and I hadn't given it much thought.

He didn't look at me and rocked his head. "Trouble."

I walked over and tried to pet his muzzle. He pulled away.

"Hello."

The horse snorted.

"Have I done something to offend you?"

He strode a few paces away and turned his head to look at me with one brown eye. "You're a witch. That alone should be enough."

"Ah, so you don't like witches."

He flicked his tail in my direction. "I've nothing against them exactly, but I am the loyal steed of a White Knight. It doesn't seem right to speak with one, even a mostly harmless witch."

I paced a wide circle to get around to his front without drawing too close. "Mostly harmless, am I?"

"Did I say mostly." The horse smacked his loose lips. "I meant largely."

"Is there a difference?"

He closed his eyes and kicked the grass. "Leave me alone. I'm trying to sleep."

"As you wish." I turned away

"You'll be the end of him, and he was such a fine champion."

I stopped. "I would never harm him."

The horse neighed a mirthless chuckle. "You've already done him harm. You've started him down the path of corruption. Once a White Knight starts down that road ..."

I lowered my head. "I never intended ..."

"What you intended is hardly relevant. What did you do to him in that basement?"

"Nothing." I whispered to soften the lie.

The horse trotted behind me and nudged my shoulder. "It's not your fault. I know you can't help how you feel any more than he can. That's why it's happening. Do you think you're the first temptation we've come across? There have been others. More than I can count. Wyst has drawn his share of lovely admirers. Why shouldn't he? He's virtuous and brave, handsome and gallant, everything a woman might want. But all the others loved the Knight, not the man. You're different. You see him as none have, and he sees that you see. How can anyone not love someone who loves them for who they are? Especially someone more beautiful than all the others combined."

I reached out and stroked between his eyes. "I didn't want it to happen."

"Neither did he, but it did. And it will."

"Perhaps not."

He stuck out his tongue. "I've been his boon companion for a very long time. I know Wyst better than anyone. Sometimes, better than he knows himself. He's out in the fields now, meditating, struggling to clear his mind of these urges. They teach White Knights to suppress their baser desires. But even a great Knight such as Wyst can't stifle his love."

So great was my surprise that even a lifetime of witchly training couldn't hide it. Agape, I stepped away from the horse.

"He loves me?"

The horse shook his head. His lips turned in a sardonic grin. "Very much so. More than even he suspects."

I struggled to contain my excitement and mostly succeeded. The only trace of my joy came in a soft smile and a spontaneous sprouting of sunflowers at my feet.

"Do you love him?" asked the horse.

I answered without hesitation. "Yes." A pair of silver butterflies materialized in my palm. I let them into the air with a wave of my hand.

"That's it then," sighed the horse. "He's doomed."

"I would never hurt him."

"There are more dooms than death. A White Knight touched by love is ruined. They can't return to a life of virtue after that."

"You don't understand. I'm cursed. I can't love him, not as a mortal woman loves a man."

He nervously nibbled on the tall grass. He chewed a mouthful and spat it out. "You can. And you do."

I wanted to argue. More than anything, I wanted to correct the horse of this notion, but everything I might say would be a lie. Since neither of us would believe any untruth I could offer, I didn't bother. Instead, I seized on a comment I hadn't noticed before.

"Beautiful. You said, I was beautiful?"

The horse gulped down more grass and spoke with his mouth foil. "Did I? I don't recall."

"Yes, you did. More beautiful than all of Wyst's former admirers combined, that's what you said."

"Are you certain?" He chewed on his far shoulder to avoid looking at me. I waited for him to grow bored ignoring me.

"Oh, yes, yes. I did say that." He lifted and pawed each hoof twice. "We saw you bathing in the lake, months before we came to Fort Stalwart. Wyst had lost track of the gobling horde, it was very elusive for a horde, and while trailing it through a patch of woods, we saw you.'

I'd forgotten my last day with Ghastly Edna and my bath at the lake. I'd known someone had been watching. Now I knew who. And I had only been down there because my mistress had ordered me to. There could only be one reason behind it. Ghastly Edna had wanted me spied upon. It was against the witch's code to be seen in so vulnerable a state, and I couldn't fathom the reason. Even long dead, my mistress could confuse me. There had always been a lesson somewhere to be learned, and I assumed this would be no different.

"Personally, I don't know what makes a woman desirable," remarked the horse. "I've always liked a strong back and sturdy haunches, a nice mane. You've got the mane at least. And whatever women are supposed to have, I presume you have that as well. Because I felt Wyst's lust rise the moment he laid eyes upon you."

I frowned. I didn't want Wyst's lust. I was a beautiful creature, supernaturally so, and men couldn't help but desire my flesh. If the only reason Wyst couldn't resist me was my curse, then I would rather he feel nothing at all.

The horse shook his head. "You still don't understand, do you? It was merely lust at first. A stronger lust than usual perhaps, but lust nonetheless. Wyst was its master. Then this quest started, and over the days, it became something more. And it's all your fault. If only you'd been a proper witch and kept your distance."

I almost argued that Wyst was just as responsible, but even if it was true, everyone is only responsible for their own actions. The blame was mine. And still I couldn't make myself feel bad about any of this.

Because Wyst loved me.

"Shame," said the horse. "He was such a terrific champion of virtue."

I laid by the campfire, closed my eyes, and tried to get some rest. I couldn't even stop from smiling.

Wyst returned sometime later. I pretended to sleep and watched him by magic through closed eyes. He stood over me for a long while, just looking. Then he bent down and barely touched my cheek. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss and nibble him. But I didn't. This wasn't the right place or time, and something in my eyes told me Wyst wasn't ready. But he would be, and I could wait until he was.

Wyst laid down, a mere arm's length away. He didn't go to sleep. A sweet smile across his lips, he just kept looking, and with him watching over me, I had no trouble getting the rest I needed.

"Trouble," snorted the horse just before I fell into a peaceful slumber.