The Underground Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (38 page)

He shouted it almost as if trying to convince her she had no way to escape, and for a moment, she believed him. But her teeth still felt hot from the heat that had left her mouth on the balcony. She wasn’t sure how she had done it, but with her arms pinned, she knew she had to figure it out soon.

Emmeline stretched her mouth open and
imagined flames forming instead of words. With a scream torn from the deepest part of her body, and a rush of heat streaming from her mouth, Demyan flew off her and slammed into the far wall. She expected him to slide to the ground, considering the amount of heat she drove into him, but he pushed himself off the wall and climbed onto the nearest fireplace mantel.

“Very good, Emmeline,” Demyan said
with a playful glint in his eye. “I’m always amazed at how quickly you learn.”

Emmeline threw a stream of heat toward his head and he ducked almost before it left her hands. The wall exploded behind him, exposing the room behind it
through a small hole. She threw more heat toward him, again and again, but he seemed to anticipate her every move, ducking, twisting, and turning at precisely the right moment. Emmeline scowled. They had done this before.

She took both her hands and thrust them forward as if she were pushing two massive doors open at the same time. A solid wall of heat barreled forward and the stone
s behind Demyan blasted into the other room, taking Demyan with them. He flipped over and over in the air before landing on his feet in a crouch. His chest heaved but his eyes had turned fierce.

“Are you going to cry for Orinda?” Emmeline shouted across the two rooms.
She stepped over the rubble. Rather than push more heat into him, which she knew he would expect, she directed the next stream above him and sent it crashing down onto his back. His arms and legs buckled and he collapsed, unmoving.

Emmeline dropped her arms. Had she killed him?

Demyan moaned and rolled onto his back. Emmeline sent more heat into him, but only enough to keep him from escaping. He struggled against her invisible hold, and then he let out a long sigh and let his head fall back.

“You don’t want to do this,” he said. “I can teach you things you’d never learn on your own.”

“I don’t want to learn anything from you. You’re a killer.”

Demyan chuckled. “That much is true. But you are about to join me, Emmeline. You are about to become
a killer yourself.”

“I’ll never be like you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Answers.”

“Why would I tell you anything?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll rip you apart limb by limb, which is
less than you deserve. But if you talk, I’ll end this quickly.”

Demyan
licked his lips. “I can still summon Orinda.”

“No you can’t
,” Emmeline said, calling his bluff. “You lost the chance the moment you extinguished your flames.”

Demyan said nothing and Emmeline knew
she was right.

“I know you planned all this,” Emmeline said. “My
capture, my enslavement. Tiergan is too much of a fool to have orchestrated this.”

The edges of
Demyan’s mouth turned up into a pleased smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Yes, Tiergan is nothing more than a spoiled bureaucrat. His people fear him because I’ve given them a reason. Every thought that useless flab of fat has spoken has come from me. He’s too busy basking in his people’s false adoration to realize all his triumphs have come by my hand. He sees only what he wants to see and that has worked to my advantage.”

“All along you wanted him to control me so I could fight for my freedom.”

Demyan nodded.

“Why?”

Demyan looked away.

“Why!” Careful not to get to
o near him, Emmeline twisted a stream of heat until it wound around his neck, and then she squeezed.

Demyan grasped at his neck, clawing at the invisible
binding. He stretched his neck and gasped.

Emmeline loosened the heat’s hold. “Why plan all this?”

“Orinda needs three witches to break the curse. Free witches. She experimented for hundreds of years to find a means to protect the witches of her choosing. After many failed attempts and countless Incenagas lost, Orinda discovered a protective property in a stone.

“The fire stone,” Emmeline said.

Demyan’s eyebrows lifted. “Very good. Yes, the fire stone. There are only three in existence and Orinda used all three to fashion leather cuffs for each witch. They could protect only one. She trusted a cuff to your mother, who had very promising power, but she lost it not long after, the fool.” Demyan spat.

Emmeline tightened the
heat’s hold around his neck, but it didn’t respond in the way she would have liked. Her power was losing its strength. She had already used too much and knew she wouldn’t be able to hold Demyan for much longer.

Demyan seemed to sense her weakened state. His eyes flashed and his grin widened.

“Go on.” Emmeline said between her teeth. “

“
With two cuffs already spoken for, and your mother dead, that left you and your grandmother to fill the third position. Orinda sensed a greater power in you so I sought out a weak-minded tyrant with a ruthless reputation. Someone who would push you to the limit.”

“Tiergan.”

“I found it convenient that his father went after your mother. It added to your disgust of him, I think, and fueled your hatred.” He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“For what?”

“For helping you do what no other Incenaga has done. Wasn’t it your hate for him that helped you regain your freedom?”

“No.”

Demyan’s eyebrows lifted in genuine curiosity. “What was it?”

“Love.”
For Erick. For herself.

Demyan laughed. “Foolish girl.”

Emmeline pushed more heat into him, pressing the back of his head against the cold floor. His eyes pinched shut and a crunch sounded from underneath his skull.

“Careful,
” Demyan said through clenched teeth, “or you won’t have enough to finish me.”

“I have enough to make you suffer any way I like.”

“Orinda will discover what you’ve done. She won’t be pleased and she’ll find you.”

A chill spread through Emmeline. Nothing terrified her more than the first Incenaga, the most powerful
of all the witches.

“
Orinda needs me to break the curse,” Emmeline said after a moment. “I’m the last witch.”

Demyan’s face had lost most of its color. “
There is still your grandmother,” he said. “She is not as strong, but she will do.”

Emmeline narrowed her eyes. “I’ll take my chances.” With the last of her power, she twisted two streams of heat on either side of his head like a rubber band and then
let go. His head snapped to the side with a crack and his body went limp.

Emmeline dropped her hands to her sides and the room turned cold. No,
she
was turning cold. A tiny stream of heat leaked from her hands. She brought them near her face and turned them back and forth to inspect. She wasn’t pushing any heat from them – she didn’t think she had any power left – and yet she felt heat leave her like a whisper. She grew colder and colder, weaker and weaker. Pressing her palms together, she gripped her hands until her knuckles turned white. What was happening? Why couldn’t she stop it?

Closing her eyes she searched within her mind until she found the orb of light. Only, it wasn’t as bright as it had
been before. It throbbed and oozed like a wound, seeming to bleed light as it grew dimmer and dimmer with each passing second. Emmeline imagined herself gathering it up in her hands and pushing it back into the fading orb, but the light seeped through her fingers like water. No matter how hard she gripped, it slipped through and left her feeling cold. Light bled from her mind in a slow trickle and she knew that was what she had been releasing from her hands. Her soul was dying and she could do nothing to stop it. The light flickered and then faded into nothing.

Erick followed Burungi up a long winding staircase, their boots slipping on the moisture and black mold. The air grew warmer as they ascended until the stairwell opened to a large courtyard. Broken baskets littered the floor with abandoned clothing and food items spilling out. It appeared the courtyard had been abandoned in a rush. A single woman remained near the fountain, her feet tucked beneath her and her face buried in the folds of her arms. Her shoulders shook with sobs.

Erick stepped
forward and her head jerked up. Long red hair fell in her face, covering one of her green eyes and sticking to the tears on her cheeks. Her gaze darted back and forth between Burungi and Erick.

Erick held out the palms of his hands.
“We won’t harm you. I only need help finding someone. Perhaps you can help. I can pay you.”

She
rose to her feet and brushed the hair out of her face. “He hurts her now. I doubt she is still alive.”

Erick’s chest tightened.
“Who do you speak of?”

“My lady
, the Incenaga. I can’t stop him. He hurts her and I can’t stop him!” The woman covered her face with her hands and wailed.

Erick took the woman by the shoulders, “Where!
Where is she? Take me to her now!”

The woman continued sobbing.
“It’s too late. It’s too late,” she cried.

Erick
’s heart raced, making his head light. He shook his head to clear his vision. “Please! Take me to her.”

The woman sniffed and nodded
. Lifting her skirt, she darted across the courtyard. She led them through empty passages, abandoned staircases, and quiet corridors. It wasn’t until they neared the other end of the castle that Erick heard shouting. He broke past the woman and dashed toward the sound, kicking open a door at the end of the corridor. And there she was, unmoving. Silent.

Tiergan looked up just as the Prince of Dolmerti broke down the door. He released his grip on the Incenaga’s hair and her head fell with a crack. The Prince’s face darkened as he barreled toward him, his sword pointed at Tiergan’s chest. Weaponless, Tiergan snatched an axe from a nearby wall and swung it in the air above the Incenaga.

“Stay back or she loses a limb,” Tiergan said. “
She killed my best assassin and I intend to make her pay for it as soon as I take control of her again.”

The Prince drew his chin back and Tiergan realized his mistake. The Prince did not know she had recovered her freedom. He kicked the Incenaga, his frustration channeling through his boot and into her back. She wouldn’t be free for long.

The Prince’s face turned red and his knuckles turned white. Tiergan laughed. The Prince’s love for the Incenaga would get him killed, just as her love for him had destroyed her.

“
The Incenaga is mine,” Tiergan said as he nudged her leg with the toe of his boot. “Whatever is left of her, that is.”

The Prince leapt forward and swung
the sword against Tiergan’s axe. Surprised at the Prince’s advance, Tiergan’s arm fell back, but his grip held firm.

“Get away
from her!” the Prince shouted as he swung again and again.

Tiergan deflected, but only barely. The Prince was strong and fast
, as close in skill to Demyan as anyone else he’d ever met. For a moment he considered bargaining with the man, hiring him as his next assassin, but one look into the Prince’s eyes told him there would be no reasoning with him. His anger had consumed him and Tiergan knew it would only be a matter of time before the Prince’s feelings impaired his judgment.

Two of his slaves rushed through the door, a dark man and a woman. They hurried to the other two worthless beings he had dragged down from the balcony with him
and huddled in the corner. He had hoped to use the old woman and the boy as leverage to reclaim the Incenaga’s servitude, but he’d found her unconscious upon his arrival.

Tiergan
swung low and deflected another blow, knocking the sword from the Prince’s hands. It clamored to the stone floor, sliding across the room and crashing to the far wall, the echoing sound of metal bouncing high on the stone walls. Tiergan swung the axe high, swooping it across his body toward the Prince’s head, but the Prince ducked and stumbled back. His eyes darted back and forth between him and the Incenaga. Tiergan laughed. He could smell the Prince’s weakness, his love for the Incenaga. And although the Prince already had the disadvantage of no weapon, Tiergan thrust his foot into the Incenaga’s stomach, enjoying the instant reaction of his opponent.

The Prince
shook, his face red and his eyes bloodshot. He appeared so far gone in his madness and rage that Tiergan didn’t expect the fight to last much longer. Everyone knew that an unfocused fighter meant a dead fighter.