The Underground Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (34 page)

“I don’t know,”
Cardoon said. “He never said. Everyone always called him Captain.”

“And you don’t know where he came from? Or where he returned to?”

“No, but he spoke with an accent similar to the soldiers. I’m not familiar with the land on the other side of the sea, but I suppose it could be anywhere.”

“How long would you say the provisions your townspeople provided would sustain a crew of his size?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A month? Give or take a week.”

Commander Benshi cut in.
“That doesn’t give me much of a jumping off point. They could be anywhere from three to five weeks distance on the sea. And they could have stopped for more supplies to continue on an even farther journey.”

“What do you suggest commander?”
Erick asked.

Commander Benshi rubbed his jaw.
“Our best bet would be to discover the origin of the soldier’s language. Someone from Mishel might give us enough information to figure out a general proximity.”

“No one will talk,”
Cardoon said. “They won’t risk it. The captain hung three of our leaders to prove the sincerity of his threat. The people are convinced he will return if they mention anything about him or his crew.”

“Or the pretty young thi
ng he took with him,” a voice spoke from the fog.

Everyone turned their heads toward
the forest. Not even the crunching of leaves could be heard behind the fog, but they knew someone was there. A shadow emerged from the edge of the forest.

“You!” Erick cried.

“And you!” the dancing man replied, matching Erick’s tone. And then he grinned.

Erick resisted the urge to leap forward and grab hold of the man’s arm
. He didn’t want him disappearing again.

“Who are you?”
Erick asked.

“You already asked me that question.”

“You never answered it.”

“Oh, I do apologize.
Sometimes I get too engrossed in the fun of a conversation to answer every little question sent my way.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Your name?”

The man grinned and bowed low at the waist. “Burungi at your service, Your Highness. I’ve come to help you free your princess.”

With only three weeks remaining until Tiergan released her, Emmeline pushed herself beyond anything she thought herself capable. She spent grueling hour after grueling hour in the cellar as Flora won control over her and then released it a dozen times each night. No matter how hard Emmeline tried, she couldn’t keep Flora from overpowering her. Her eyes shone as bright as the noon day sun, two beacons of blinding light that opened her soul for slavery.

“You have made progress, Emmeline.
I never thought it possible, but I see hope on the horizon. Half your time has passed, and half remains. I think we just might succeed.”

Emmeline scrunched up her face. “I’ve made no progress. Everything is the same.”

“On the contrary. Do you not feel the delay when I look upon your eyes?”

“Everything is delayed.”

“My control over you isn’t immediate anymore.”

Emmeline paused.
“Are you sure?”

Flora nodded. “Stop worrying so much, my dear. Think of the reunion you and your handsome prince will share once you have mastered this.”

Emmeline nodded and they continued through the night. Night after night they practiced, but Emmeline saw very little change. She became stronger at pulling in heat, and more capable of using her power without exhausting herself, but in the end Flora always managed to control her. With the deadline growing nearer Emmeline grew more uncertain of her abilities.

“Try again.” Flora said two nights
before Emmeline’s time in Cantil’s Pit would end. “We have very little time left. We should use it wisely. Do it again.”

“
It’s useless,” Emmeline said.

“What is this?”

“I need to accept that I’ll never be free of this curse. I might still have time to find Demyan and kill him before Tiergan looks for me.”

Flora bristled. “Never mind your stupidity in thinking you’ll survive killing Demyan, but what about Erick? Don’t you ever want to be with him again?”

Emmeline’s lip trembled. “I can’t go back to him. He may have the strongest army, but it only takes one person to master me. I could kill everyone in Dolmerti in an instant, even Erick.”

“Have you thought about l
etting Erick become your master? He wouldn’t abuse that privilege, would he?”

“
No, he wouldn’t. He was my master once and he vowed to never let it happen again. Besides, I don’t want to be owned by anyone. I want to be free.”

Flora frowned.
“A life alone doesn’t necessarily mean a life of freedom.”

“But it will be a life
free of fear.”

“You will always live in fear until you learn to control yourself.”

Emmeline looked away. “Perhaps my mother’s choice is the only one, then.”

Flora took hold of Emmeline’s chin and turned her face forward. “You listen to me girl, and you listen well. What your mother did was an honorable
sacrifice for the good of many, but only because she had no practice in controlling her power and had no way of stopping Harskell. There is no honor in giving up and that is exactly what you are doing.”

Emmeline
frowned and jerked her chin away from Flora’s grasp. “No matter what choice I make, I’ll die. If I kill Demyan, I’ll die. If I follow in my mother’s footsteps, I’ll die. If I let Tiergan control me, I’ll die. I might as well let it happen on my own terms.”

Flora
turned on her heel and left the room. Her feet thundered up the cellar steps and then the crashing sounds of drawers being emptied filled the air. Curious, Emmeline followed her to the main room. She stopped. The manner in which Flora searched through her belongings, throwing everything about her in a rush, seemed too familiar a sight. Emmeline put a hand on the nearest piece of furniture to steady herself.

“Aha!” Flora cried. She held up an old photograph and marched over to Emmeline, waving it over her head.

“What is it?” Emmeline asked, almost too tired to care. She didn’t want to argue anymore.

“Look at this picture.”

Emmeline took the photograph and gasped. It was a picture of Demyan and Orinda, arm in arm, in clothing that seemed much too outdated. She flipped the photograph over and noticed it had been dated almost two hundred years before.”

“How is this possible? Can Demyan live for
ever as well?”

Flora shook her head. “No, Orinda has been healing his body, strengthening it with her power.”

“Is that possible? To heal another?”

“Possible, but very difficult and extremely exhausting. She has been doing it for centuries, so I imagine she has gained some expertise in the technique, or is dabbling
with alternative witchcraft.”

“Then I can’t kill him.”

“No, you can, but that isn’t why I wanted you to see this. Look at her wrist.” She thrust her finger at the photograph.

Emmeline brought the photograph closer to her face and focused on Orinda’s wrist. A
thick leather band wrapped around her left wrist. It had tiny holes running around the edges with an oval stone the color of fire set over a brass plate.

“I believe that was what your mother was looking for before Harskell found her.”

“Why?”

“There are three in existence, one for each witch who will participate in breaking the curse. I
believe Orinda had plans for your mother to join her circle.”

“What does the bracelet have to do with
breaking the curse?”

“
Orinda discovered a way to protect an Incenaga from being controlled while wearing the bracelet – or rather the fire stone on the bracelet. I’m not sure what it has to do with breaking the curse though.”

For the first time in her life, Emmeline felt anger toward her mother.
“Why wasn’t my mother wearing it? She should have been wearing it before Harskell pounded her door down. I can’t believe she lost something so important.”

“I doubt very much that she lost it. I think she was saving it for you. Once an Incenaga wears it,
its protective power cannot be transferred to another Incenaga.”

Emmeline’s anger
dissolved. Her mother had given up her freedom, for her? It would explain why the nurse in her vision seemed so hopeless when her search came up empty. Emmeline felt so unworthy, so ashamed.

“I would have done the same thing, if I h
ad been given one of the cuffs,” Flora said.

Emmeline straightened her shoulders. “Where is it? Do you think it is
still in Pamizak? Perhaps I could find it.”

“Yes, you must
find it. It might still be out there.” Flora brushed Emmeline’s cheek with her fingertips. “So don’t give up hope, just yet, child.”

Emmeline sagged. “I won’t,” she whispered. She felt so tired, so ready to
give up. But how could she when her mother had set aside her only chance at a real life, for her?

Emmeline returned to
Cantil’s Pit with a heavy heart. She had surprised herself when she found the resolve to cross the field and slither through the cave into her snake infested home. Her entire body and mind felt weary. She slept most of the day, and although it still disgusted her, she rested her head on the grimy hay and fell into a deep sleep.

Curled
on her side, Emmeline slept until a clatter thundered above her head. She jumped to her feet and searched the round opening above her. The wooden door creaked open and a voice bellowed toward her. She knew without a doubt that she’d run out of time. No more planning, no more preparing. Her time in Cantil’s Pit had come to an end.

“You conniving little witch!” Tiergan bellowed as he approached the pit’s edge. He spat in the hole and stood at his full height as he continued screaming. “How did you get word to them?”

“To who?”
Emmeline asked, her heart thumping.

“You know very well who?
Tell me, how did you do it?”

Emmeline’s jaw clenched.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Tiergan
roared and veins bulged from his neck. “I see Cantil’s Pit has done nothing to teach you any form of respect. Nothing I do to torment you has succeeded. Perhaps I need a change of method.”

“Perhaps you need to accept
defeat,” Emmeline bit back.

Tiergan
spat again and turned toward Tayve. “Get her up here!” He hit his closed fist against a wall and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The guard lowered a rope ladder and the end
of it slapped against the stone wall. “Climb on up, missy,” Tayve said with a wheeze. “I’ll not be pulling your hide out of there.”

“What if I don’t want to come out?”
Emmeline said, trying to sound brave. But her voice was more of a squeak and her knees trembled. She wasn’t ready to face Tiergan yet.

Tayve
laughed. “What fool would want to continue festering in Cantil’s Pit? You are a dumber girl than I thought. Take the rope. I don’t have time for this.”

Em
meline’s stomach churned, her bones turning to butter. She grabbed hold of the rope ladder and climbed the rungs one by one until she reached the top. With one leg hooked over the stone edge, she pulled herself over the lip of the pit and onto the dirt packed floor.

Tayve
said nothing. He shuffled to the wooden door and opened it to reveal Marja on the other side. Emmeline’s eyes filled with tears as Marja opened her arms to her.

“
There, there, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Marja said. She smiled, but her eyes remained heavy. 

They climbed several flights of stairs and entered the main
castle where soldiers rushed to and fro, donning metal armor and wielding swords. Women wept from the corners as they kissed their sons, brothers, and loved ones, wishing them farewell and a safe return.

“What is going on?” Emmeline asked.

Marja
looked down and hustled her to the bathhouse where Emmeline was washed and lathered with exotic oils. Marja brushed her tangled hair until it shone and then twisted it into sweeping curls woven with strings of pearls. Without a single word, she handed Emmeline a red dress of brocade and satin and waited for her to dress herself.

Everything felt odd and out of place.
Something had changed since she’d been thrown in the pit. Marja was quiet and wore worried glances now and then, but whenever Emmeline inquired about it, Marja either ignored her or directed the conversation elsewhere.

Emmeline was
taken to her room and left alone. Clattering horse hooves, wailing women, and shouting soldiers competed with one another until the noise pressed through Emmeline’s windows and echoed off the cold walls. She covered her ears with her hands. What was happening? She stepped to the window and brushed the curtain aside, but before she could get a look, Tiergan stormed through the door.

Emmeline
whipped around and braced herself for the barrage of abuse she knew would come. His thick hair matted to the edges of his red face. He no longer looked like the strong, self-assured man she had seen before. An underlying panic seemed to simmer beneath the surface. His fist shook in her face and his mouth distorted into pure hatred as he stared her down.

“
You worthless girl!” he seethed. “Did you think you could outwit me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? What am I talking about? I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”

Tier
gan grabbed a chunk of her hair and dragged her out the door and down the hall. She held onto his wrist with both hands, her fingers clasped together. She didn’t dare speak as he dragged her up several flights of stairs to the top of the castle. They exited the stairwell onto a balcony overlooking all of Griet and the outlining desert, the wind pushing at them from the east.

Tiergan
pushed his fist toward her head and released the grip on her hair. As she stumbled forward, his grip snapped the string of pearls in her hair and her dark locks fell down and whipped around her waist. Tiergan’s jaw twitched as he thrust his arm into the turbulent wind and pointed toward the desert.

“You are telling me you have no know
ledge of this?” he shouted.

Emmeline followed
his gaze to the desert. A massive wall of churning sand moved in their direction. The black sand swirled into the sky where it turned from grey to white.

“
It looks like a desert storm,” Emmeline shouted above the wind. “Is that why everyone is in such an uproar? Has Griet never weathered a dust storm? Surely you don’t think I caused this?”

Tiergan slapped Emmeline across the face.
“That is no dust storm and you know it? How did you get word to them? You have concealed your powers long enough. I demand you show them to me now.”