Bone Witch (2 page)

How she had crossed into territory where
enemies could be trusted and loved ones feared, she'd never fully fathom.

She ignored Edulph even as Aedus wrung her
hands over him, but dared not get too close. Alaysha knew the girl still felt
the missing finger her brother had severed as though it were still part of her
hand, and even if she'd adapted, it was a constant reminder of her brother's
treachery. Such a loyal girl, that one. If no one else proved trustworthy, that
ragged, ferret-faced urchin would. Alaysha would do nothing to endanger her,
certainly not on an uncertain try to psych the living fluid from her horse, not
knowing if the power would overtake control and drain them all instead.

"No," she said. "I can't
risk it."

Strangely, Theron shrugged. “If the witch
doesn't try, we’ll be dead anyway. A shaman even as wise as this one is still
merely an old man. I have no use. Edulph is nothing but a waste of good
fleshing.”

Gael stepped toward her, and she held her
hand up to stop him from speaking. She knew what he was planning to pledge—the
same as Theron was, and neither mattered.

“I can’t risk her,” she said. "Not
Aedus."

The shrug again. “She’s already at risk.”
Gael waited a moment, giving her a knowing glance. “We all are, anyway, aren’t
we?”

So he did know. She was on the sharp verge
of thirsting them all dry, that it wasn't just a remote warning, and he
understood the danger. She wanted to sink onto the ground and stay there.
Instead she sighed. Swallowed, even though there was no liquid to move down her
throat.

“Theron, can't you break the earth, seek
water below?” She knew his witch had made the earth split when Alaysha had
brought too much rain. She knew Yenic could channel his mother's fiery power;
surely Theron could do the same as the clay witch's Arm.

He grinned, with an ironic twist to his
mouth. “Not without blood,” he said.

Not without blood. Barruch’s blood once
again. Blood she would have to shed or psych of its water if they were to
survive. Just the thought made her chest burn. She had to inhale and exhale
repeatedly just to keep from panicking at the futility of it.

She felt her legs tremble, heard Gael's
voice as a whisper, coaxing her, telling her it was okay.

“I’ve killed before,” she said, searching
out his eye. “You know I have. But this is different.” She heard the pleading
in her voice, like a toddler begging her father not to spank her. Father, she
thought morosely. It was all her father’s fault she was in this spot in the
first place, her father’s fault she was a killer.

Gael’s arms went round her, and she fell
against his chest, choking back sobs.

“You don’t have to kill the beast,” he said
next to her ear. “You only have to thirst his blood once it flows. I’ll do the
deed for you.”

She discovered her fists were beating
against his back, that she was squirming in his arms. “You’d kill him? You’d
kill my Barruch?”

Gael’s hands found hers and held them
tightly against his sides. His body pressed into hers in command for her to be
still and yet with a gentle intimacy that actually stilled her. “I would kill
anyone—any beast, any witch, any woman—to save you.”

She peered up at him. He’d not mentioned
their night together, as he’d promised, not once since she’d lost Yenic and her
sister and her father Yuri all in one day and needed the comfort he’d offered.
He’d not once told her again that he loved her. That he would say anything now
was proof of how bad off they were, how close to dying—how close he knew she
was to unintentionally psyching them dry.

“Just do it,” she croaked and staggered
away from Barruch. If it must be done, then on with it, but she couldn’t look
into those lovingly haughty eyes and watch the life die from them, see his
realization of her betrayal.

“Do it,” she sobbed and stuffed a fist into
her mouth. She stared back over the dried earth they’d traveled. She forced
herself to think back on the days that had set them on the path in the first
place, fleeing her homeland with an old man, a young girl, a criminal, and a
warrior, and leaving behind the only true friend she’d made.

The thought of Saxa and her willowy frame,
the soft voice and silver light hair brought her to thoughts of Yenic, and
thoughts of him brought her to her twin sister.

Then the meandering thoughts stopped. They
had to.

Her sister, newly discovered, was no more.
Aislin, the witch of flame, had killed her trying to goad Yuri into
relinquishing Yenic.

It was all a tangled, nightmarish mess, all
set in motion by Yuri’s greed for power, his megalomaniac desire to control
each of four witches that a season ago Alaysha hadn’t known existed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to
hear the familiar whinny as Gael’s blade moved across the broad neck. Each limb
felt taut with anxiety. She scraped a bare foot across the earth, remembering
how it felt on Barruch’s back, how he’d struggled to reach her when she’d
caused the flood at the mud village. She hadn’t thought he’d live through that.
She smiled nostalgically. She remembered seeing him at the edge of the river
when he’d brought Gael out from the city during Aislin’s rampage.

She recalled how handsome that horseflesh
looked to her each time, how it made her stomach flop over itself in relief.

Her friend. Her family. Her one connection
to the humanity she thought she’d given up each time she had to kill for her
father.

Dear deities, how could she let this
happen? She couldn’t, that’s what. She wouldn’t.

She spun around, intending to shout for
Gael to wait, hoping it wasn’t already too late.

She would have gotten the words out too, if
Aedus hadn’t yelled first, pointing to the horizon, jumping up and down when
the girl shouldn’t have the energy to stand, let alone hopscotch from one foot
to the other.

Theron's posture revealed his surprise, and
as confused as Alaysha was to see a hulking shape coming toward them, her first
thought was to make sure Gael hadn't gone ahead and murdered her Barruch. She
felt her heart squeeze in her chest, the fear that it was too late keeping it
from pumping.

“Gael?” she croaked.

He met her eyes and she felt her whole body
slump with relief when he spoke.

“He's safe yet, Alaysha,” he said and she
breathed easier at his words.

The horizon could finally take her
attention then. “What sort of beast is that?”

Gael shrugged, but it was Theron who spoke,
his voice such a strange tone Alaysha didn't realize at first that it was
dread.

“That would be an Enyalian. And an Enyalian
means this shaman and these good people are good as dead.”

A
laysha watched as the strange hulking beast on the horizon
grew bigger as it drew closer. With relief she saw that what Theron called an
Enyalian was alone. What harm could come from a lone rider?

“Should we fear one Enyalian, Theron?” she
asked him, and didn't feel so reassured when she saw his reaction.

“She'll have seen us,” he said, casting
panicked looks around him. Alaysha noticed he took to stepping side to side
anxiously, his filthy cassock swaying over his blue-veined feet.

“She?” Alaysha asked and glanced at Gael
for confirmation. “Did he say she?”

Gael nodded and Theron edged closer,
staring thoughtfully at the warrior.

“All Enyalia are shes.” He took measure of
Gael, and seeming to decide something of importance, began pressing Gael to sit
on the ground. At first, Gael resisted, but when Theron grew persistent, the
warrior settled on his buttocks next to Barruch with a shrug. Despite his
seemingly relaxed posture, Alaysha noted his fingers clenched the handle of his
blade beneath his arm.

“What's going on Theron?” she asked as the
shaman did the same to Edulph who had a harder time finding a dignified sitting
position with his hands bound in front of him.

The shaman took Aedus's hand and led her
closer to Alaysha.

“Any number of Enyalia is dangerous—life
threatening, even, yes yes yes—especially for a man.” He moved them to stand
in front of Barruch. “Let her see this witch first,” he told Alaysha then
looked back at Gael. “Spring when she's noticed you, but only if she notices
you. Otherwise, look weakened or dead or near dead.” He paused when he'd
checked Edulph, seeming to decide the madman's fate. “If the foolish madman
wants to live, he'll pretend he's dead.”

“And then what?” Aedus piped up. “If she
wants to kill us, she needn't waste her energy, Theron. She just needs to pass
us by and let this cursed land do it for her.”

Alaysha wished she didn't have to hear the
note of sourness in the girl's tone. To have lived and thrived on your own as
this girl had done only to be put in harm's way repeatedly because of Alaysha
and all the messiness her life had become must be an insult to the girl's
tenacity.

Theron glared at the girl. “The Enyalian
won't take the chance, oh no.,” he said, looking past Alaysha at the
approaching beast. Alaysha followed his gaze. Indeed, it was a beast—unlike
any horse she'd ever seen, but the figure atop didn't ride so much as slump
over it.

“We can protect ourselves,” she said aloud.
“If we stick together.”

Theron shook his head. “Maybe if we weren't
so weak. Maybe if we had more men...”

“She is one woman and we have a witch,” she
said indignantly.

He grinned. “A witch without the control to
be discreet in how her power works. Better the warrior out there than the witch
right here, we say. Yes. Oh yes.”

Aedus threw her hands up. “Then what's the
point, you fool?”

Theron looked at her. “Better than this
small child has called us a fool. Indeed, a fierce Enyalian herself did so,
didn't she? Yes. So long ago.”

Alaysha could swear he looked nostalgic.
“How do you know these warriors? Who are they?”

He chewed his cheek, sent a furtive glance
forward. The figure had come so close, Alaysha nearly staggered in surprise at
the queerness of the beast. She could make out a long neck, and what had looked
like two figures atop the one back she could now see was one woman slumped
forward across a large hump. The legs of the beast, long as they were, seemed
supple and strong despite the heat. The woman's legs hung down well past the
belly of the beast but looked red and raw. Not bleeding—just raw.

That was the moment she realized it.

“We're not in danger,” she said aloud.
“She’s hurt.”

Theron squinted, shading his vision from
the sun with his palm. “It's worse than that,” he murmured. “Worse even than
our deaths. Oh no no no no.”

Alaysha saw it the same moment he did it
seemed. Both of them stumbled forward to help the woman from her mount.

“Oh dear deities,” Alaysha heard herself
say, through the heavy breath of her exertion. She heard Gael's voice behind
her as he spoke.

“Bodicca,” he blurted even as Alaysha's
hand reached the woman's leg. It was indeed raw, covered in boils in a long
strip of flesh that appeared to be from a trail of something wet and greasy.

“Sweet Liliah,” she heard Theron say.
“Melted down. Poured on her, poor thing.”

Alaysha swept a look over his face. He
looked stricken and it wasn't just from the wounds; it was as though he felt
connected to the woman's pain.

“So brave,” he murmured. “Poor brave
thing.” He tutted and did more to ease her down than either Alaysha or Gael
did. They were awkward trying to wrest her from the beast without causing her
further pain. Theron was adept, gentle. He stripped away his cassock and laid
it on the bare earth. He stood in his flaxen shift, with his scrawny arms
hanging at his sides. Strangely enough, scrawny as they were, they looked to
have some semblance of old sinew and muscle. The tattau on his ribs stretched
and sagged with his skin.

“Check the other side,” he commanded.
“She'll have water skins. Yes, oh yes, she will. Plenty.”

Aedus made for the other flank and whooped
in victory, Then Alaysha lost sound of her as the girl presumably guzzled from
the skin.

“Careful,” she shouted at the girl. “Not
too much. Lots of little, Aedus, so you can keep it down.” She turned to Gael,
who was already striding round the beast.

“I'll see to it and get you some,” he said,
his expression shifting to barely hidden revulsion as he spied Bodicca's back.

“It's a mess, Theron,” Alaysha said. “Thank
the deities she's passed out.”

He said nothing to that, merely began digging
through the pack he'd been carrying since they'd fled the city and refused to
relinquish to anyone even though it was no doubt a heavy parcel for him to
manage. She doubted he'd have any medicines or herbs to heal the mass of
bubbled flesh in splotches and streaks down the warrior's body.

“What did this,” she mused aloud.
"Boiling water?"

“Boar fat, we should imagine. Melted down
yes oh yes but oh so hot,” he mumbled, then choked and gagged loudly as he
inspected the warrior's back.

Alaysha could stand no more. She turned in
relief to Gael who held out a water skin.

“It's hot, but very sweet.” He flashed
another, uncharacteristic grin. “Aedus is giving Edulph some.”

She kept her lips tightly closed thinking
about that horrible villain finding relief. "And Barruch?"

“She's already cut a hole big enough to let
him at it.” The large warrior looked back over his shoulder and Alaysha
followed his gaze to see Edulph cupping his hands into the broad leather. Aedus
was scolding him not to waste any.

Alaysha gulped at the mouth of the skin,
watching them curiously. “Is this it?”

“There's two more. Looks like she hasn't
been able to drink much.”

"I imagine not." Alaysha hated to
do it, the reluctance to even think what was invading her mind was strong, but
not strong enough to overcome the worry of it. She couldn't stop herself from
wondering aloud what they would all need to know eventually.

“If she's here, where do you think Yenic
is?”

Bodicca had taken him when the struggle
between Aislin and Yuri had looked to go bad. Gael had told her back then that
where Bodicca had taken Yenic meant and that he was undoubtedly dead. If she
was here, alive but sorely injured, it must be true. She tried to force her
lungs to expand.

“Do you think he's gone then?”

Gael sighed and nodded at Theron. “He'll do
his best to find out for you.”

She met Gael's eye and saw something shift
within the depths. Hurt, maybe.

“Not just for me, Gael," she said,
trying to placate his pain. "For Saxon too. If Yenic lives we may yet get
Aislin to release your nephew.”

He nodded mutely, but Alaysha could see he
still felt miserable. Better she focus on something she could fix, something
tangible. She made her way to the shaman and searched his face questioningly,
hoping he would understand what she wanted without having to say it.

“She lives, “Theron said.

She breathed deeply, wanting to ask about
Yenic. “That's good.”

“Perhaps,” he shrugged.

“What does that mean, Theron?”

He groaned as though he thought her simple
and Gael stepped closer. “The Enyalia, Alaysha. They are a caste of fierce
warrior women.”

“I assumed as much.”

“Did you miss the term 'women'?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Enyalia allow no man to enter their
lands. I should have known by her height, her demeanour toward men that Bodicca
was one of them, but it was so strange to see one in your father's city.”

“Gael, get to the point. It doesn't make
sense that they did this to her. What does it mean?"

Theron scuffled his feet and made a furtive
movement toward Bodicca, almost a feigned need to inspect her back again, and
it made Alaysha even more suspicious. "Gael? Theron?"

The shaman rolled his eyes. "They
allow no men," he said. "If Bodicca is here, then Yenic is
dead."

Gael reached for her hand and held it next
to his heart where she could feel the thudding within. “Alaysha,” he murmured.
“I think he's saying that no man who enters Enyalia lives to leave.”