The Return of the Witch (20 page)

I hauled the table to one side, and then persuaded Tegan to stand for a moment while I pushed her rickety wooden chair forward a little so that when she returned to it she was sitting in the center of the available space. I used a rusting poker to coax a piece of burnt wood from the base of the fire. Gripping it in the hem of my skirt I used the nascent charcoal to draw a circle around myself and Tegan. It was a little uneven, but it would serve its purpose. I fetched the candle and dripped a second circle of wax within the line of the first, before setting what remained of it down on the floor next to Tegan. Next I brought over the bowl of spring water and carefully placed it in front of her. I tore a strip of cotton from my petticoat and used it as a washcloth, dipping it in the silky water and using it to gently wash Tegan's face and hands. It was an indication of how heavily she was spellbound that she barely reacted to what I was doing. Bathing her in this way was the closest I could get to re-creating the natural magic of the pool that I would have used in the garden at Willow Cottage. The act of washing off the dirt of the day also symbolically rinsed away the film of magic that clung to her. As I moved the wet cotton over her hot, dry skin, I muttered a witch's prayer. The words felt hot in my own mouth, their magic fierce and sharp.

As I finished the final phrases I became aware of noises. These were not sounds of the woodland at night, nor of someone approaching. These were noises of an altogether more supernatural variety, and they were being made by things that were with me inside the cabin. Inevitably, my mind's eye saw again the terrifying scene I had witnessed when first I had come to this place; the sight of Gideon using black magic, dancing with demons, transformed into something hideous and terrible. I blinked away the vision and steadfastly ignored the growling and slavering sounds that were growing behind me. I saw Aloysius dart deeper under Tegan's clothing, seeking a safe hiding place, clearly alarmed, yet brave enough not to desert his mistress.

Tegan had begun to whimper, her eyes open now and staring into the deeper shadows in the corners of the room.

“Hush,” I told her, taking her hand in mine. “Listen to my voice, Tegan. Never mind those silly jabberings. They are just tricks sent to confuse you.” I picked up the candle and held it up. “Look here. See the heat of the light? You have a brightness inside you just as pure and fierce, Tegan, and we will use it to drive Gideon's dark magic out.”

I put the candle down again and stood up. Ignoring the increasing clamor of the imps nearby—no doubt conjured by the enchantment, like feisty guards called upon to keep Tegan locked within the spell—I held my arms high.

“Goddess of the day, Mother Moon, Sister Stars, pluck this girl from her prison. Bring her out of the clutches of the one who wishes her ill. She is not his to keep. She is a witch. Set her free!”

I closed my eyes the better to focus all my energy and attention on Tegan, and on the invisible glamor that had her trapped. Against my eyelids pulsed a green-black vision, racing away and then thundering close, not taking proper shape but growing and shrinking, writhing and throbbing. It was as if I were seeing the very essence of the spell, and with it came a bitter, foul stench, filling my nostrils, choking me. I coughed, spluttered, and managed not to fall to retching. Tegan cried out, and when I looked at her again she was levitating, rising from her chair as if borne up by unseen hands. She screamed, but though her fear was distressing to witness, I could see that she was more awake, more aware of what was going on around her. The grip of the spell was weakening! I continued chanting and imploring the Goddess to help us. A dark green smoke began to trail out of Tegan's mouth and nose, and her whole body began to shake and convulse. I sprang forward and took her in my arms, holding her tight against me.

“Do not give in, Tegan! You must not give in!” I told her.

We were both rising up now, as conflicting forces acted upon her. Gideon's spell sought to assert its hold over her, while my own worked to release her, so that she was in the middle of a battle. On the outer edges of the circle the imps squealed and yapped, but they could not enter. At last we reached the low ceiling and began to be pressed against it, so that for a moment I feared we would be crushed. If I ceased spellcasting the levitating would stop, but I would lose any ground gained and Tegan would be snatched back into the grip of the hex. I needed something to help keep her present in reality, something to jolt her from where she was. The pain of being crushed so harshly against the ceiling wasn't doing it. I shouted her name as loudly as I could but still I could not reach her. Just then, her mouse squeezed from his hiding place, clearly anxious not to be squashed, and amid our struggling he lost his footing and fell. I watched his descent as if the movement were slowed. We were perhaps eight feet above the ground—could the tiny creature survive such a fall? As he hit the unforgiving flagstones of the floor Aloysius gave a heartbreaking squeak. And Tegan heard it. She turned in the direction of the pitiful cry, her eyes properly open now, vision returned to them in an instant. She gasped and flung herself free—free of my embrace, and free of the spell. I fell heavily onto the hearth stones. She landed on the floor nimbly, snatching up the small, lifeless shape, holding it to her heart and looking wildly about her, as if seeing the imps and shifting shapes in the darkness for the first time. She took in a single, furious breath, so deep and strong it caused the flames in the fire to draw toward her. And then she screamed. It was not like her earlier cries of fear or pain. This was a letting loose of rage and fearsome might. It was a witch's roar, an utterance of magic and ancient power that sent the imps skittering across the ground and then scuttling back to wherever they had come from. The noise rebounded off the walls of the cabin, around and around and around the small space, and it was so fierce and so strong that I had to throw my hands over my ears to protect them.

At last the noise stopped. The room was still and quiet once more, not a natural silence, but a complete absence of sound that sometimes follows such an outburst of magic, as if the air has been used up and cannot carry so much as the chime of a silver bell, or even a child's whisper, until it has settled and been restored to normality once more.

Tegan turned slowly toward me. Her face was so transformed, so afire with magic, her eyes glowing, her skin luminous, her hair moving as if stirred by stormy winds, that for a moment I feared I had failed and that she was still in the grip of Gideon's spell. Unhurriedly, she straightened up. She opened her hand and looked at the little white form in her palm. She raised it up to her mouth and tenderly blew upon it, ruffling its fur with her breath. I saw her lips move as she pronounced a silent spell. The mouse sneezed, yawned, and opened its ruby eyes. Tegan smiled, her features relaxing, taking on a more ordinary, indeed a less alarming, appearance once more.

“Tegan?” I spoke softly, uncertain as to how she would regard me now. “Tegan, do you feel quite well?”

She regarded me thoughtfully, as if trying to make up her mind about how she felt, and about me.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes. I told you I would come. You knew I wouldn't leave you to him, didn't you? He has had you bewitched, Tegan. You have suffered…”

“I was in a dark house,” she said suddenly, the memory of it sending a flash of pain across her face. “I didn't like it there. I couldn't get out.” She shook her head. “No! He will not let me go. He said he would
never
let me go!”

“But Tegan…” I started toward her but shouts from outside stopped me. I could hear Erasmus's voice raised in warning. I could also hear a second voice which filled me with alarm, and sent poor Tegan into a panic.

“He has come for me!” she cried, and yet she did not try to hide, but ran to the door and was outside before I could catch her.

 

14

Dawn was beginning to lighten the darkness, so that I could clearly see Gideon standing face to face with Erasmus. They were of similar height and build, but from each emanated an entirely different manner of strength. Erasmus exuded restless energy, a swiftness of body and spirit, and a contrasting stalwart, noble steadfastness. From Gideon came a formidable magic force, the sense of a dislocated soul, and a fearsome, barely contained rage.

When Tegan saw him she stopped running. She was trembling again now, and appeared to be torn between rushing toward him or fleeing in the opposite direction. It seemed I had only been partially successful in lifting Gideon's spell, and now that he was here, so very close to her, he was able to reinforce his will over her own.

“Tegan, you must stay here, stay with me,” I told her firmly. She was more present, more clearly herself than she had been when we took her from the townhouse, but still Gideon's magic lingered within her. He would not let her go so easily. “You must resist him,” I said again. “Draw on your own strength. Remember what you have learned and use your own magic!”

Gideon laughed loudly. “Bess Hawksmith, will you never recognize your limitations? You cannot take what is mine.”

“Tegan is not yours! She is free of your control.”

“Now, you know that isn't true. Look at her. The poor girl is tormented. Why must you always interfere, Bess? Could you not leave well alone, just this once?”

I reached out to take hold of Tegan but before I had touched her I felt a searing pain through my body. Gideon had flung a spell at me so quickly I had not even sensed he was building up to it. It threw me off balance, so that I fell awkwardly to the ground. The sensation was one of burning, and was so intense I feared it would overcome me. At that moment I remembered Keanes's gift. I grabbed the foal's bread from my pocket and clutched it tight against my heart, offering a silent prayer asking for its magical protection. At once the heat of Gideon's spell subsided. It did not cease altogether, but was reduced to a tolerable level.

Erasmus leapt at Gideon. Whatever the warlock had expected of the Time Stepper it was not this startlingly quick physical attack. For a moment the two of them struggled on the forest floor and I saw a dull glimmer of the dawn light gleam from the blade of Erasmus's knife. But even his speed of action was no match for his opponent. With a curse, Gideon used the dark energy that was forever at his fingertips and sent Erasmus flying backward. He traveled twenty yards or more before he crashed to the ground, his back connecting with the unyielding tree stumps that were hidden beneath the tangle of ivy and brambles. He lay groaning, stunned and in pain.

At that same moment, Tegan made her decision, turned and ran. She was still weak from the spell and slowed by its influence, so that she stumbled and gasped as she blundered through the woods. Her progress was slow and painful, but at least she was running away from and not toward Gideon.

I knew I had to seize the moment. I picked myself up and summoned my own magic. If nothing else I had to give Tegan time to get away. I drew up the loose earth on the forest floor, stirring it into a whirlwind, which gathered speed and force, so that it soon sticks and stones raised up with it, and then heavier boughs and rocks. The maelstrom lifted up, spinning with increasing velocity until I sent it hurtling toward Gideon. He deflected it, but was not entirely able to alter its trajectory, so that the edge of its whipping winds knocked him off balance, causing him to stagger backward. I stood panting from the effort of what I had done and watched in horror as Gideon merely brushed off the effects of the vortex and began striding toward me.

Neither of us saw Erasmus's knife cut through the air, but we both heard the fleeting sound it made as it traveled, followed by the sickening noise of it entering with Gideon's flesh. He screamed with fury and pain, clutching at his upper arm where the blade had sliced through his coat and impaled itself deep into the muscle.

Erasmus was on his feet again. “Elizabeth, go after Tegan,” he shouted. “Go!”

I was reluctant to leave him to face Gideon alone. He might have injured the warlock, but still it was far from an even match. But I knew this was my chance to catch up with Tegan before she ran heavens knew where, and while Gideon could not come after us. I jammed the hippomane back into my pocket, hitched up my skirts and fled in the direction the girl had gone. Day had properly broken now, so that even in the gloom of the forest I could see where I was going. I could also track the trampled plants, broken twigs and scuffed earth Tegan had left in the wake of her unsteady progress through the woods. At last I glimpsed her, just as she left the shelter of the trees and reached the open meadow. I strove to quicken my pace, cursing my heavy skirts and aged limbs as I scrambled after the much younger, faster woman. Had she not been debilitated by the spell I would have stood no chance of closing the gap between us.

“Tegan! Tegan wait, please!” I called after her, but she gave no sign of having heard me.

I emerged from the woods to step onto the track that bordered the field only to be almost run down by a galloping horse that was pelting over the stony ground. Its rider hauled on the reins so violently in an effort to avoid trampling me that the animal reared up. I threw my arms over my head in an instinctive action to protect myself, but the horse's hooves landed harmlessly clear of me, the rider uttering oaths as they did so. I looked up, panting both from running and from shock.

“Keanes! What are you doing? You nearly ran me down.”

“Forgive me, mistress,” he fought to steady the horse which I now saw was wet with sweat, its mouth foaming, its flanks heaving, having evidently been ridden at desperate speed. “I came looking for you. When you were not at the mill I thought to go to your old home, but on the way I saw the warlock enter the woods. I rode as fast as I could to cover the distance, and when I saw the girl running, I knew you would be close by.”