Page 19 of Rogue Witch

Memory catapults back twenty years. Unnatural silence reigns in the midnight forest that surrounds the field where Raith and Ethan sit face to face in the middle of two intersecting circles of light, light created by the twenty witches who make up the two circles. The Grand Witch of the North sits at the head of the first chain behind Raith, and High Witch Miriam Crowe sits behind Ethan, each occupying space where the two circles intersect. White light ripples off the witches across the field and is blocked by the trees that encircle the field. The sense of peace that reaches me makes me want to weep. If we could teach every Margiddian to conjure such pure, sweet, white light, fear would disappear, and The Shadows would be rendered powerless.

A full moon hangs overhead, but it’s the light the witches create that makes Raith and Ethan’s faces glow. Even concealed within the trees, I discern their relaxed expressions. How I wish I knew whether or not the battle had begun.

Attack within an altered plane has never been tried. We have no idea if we can defeat The Shadows in an alternate plane—or if Raith and Ethan can die there. They would never admit to it, but I suspect they believe they can die. I fear they are all too right.

“Damn you, Raith,” I murmur.

I should be sitting in that circle. Another Fae could have taken my place to guard the clearing’s fourth quadrant. I release a frustrated breath. Raith convinced the Grand Witch I should stand guard, so here I am. In truth, it’s Matthias’s fault I’m here. As a gargoyle, Matthias is the paradigm of a guardian. If he stood here, instead of me, nature, the angels, and probably even some demons, would heed his beck and call. That’s the nature of gargoyles. But Matthias went in search of Caleb and hasn’t been heard from in decades.

Noiselessly, I slip from a pine to an elm. My earpiece crackles. I wince. The witches’ psychic light is an energy magnet. Even though I require connection to the other watchers, I’ve twice turned down the device’s volume, but to no avail. Wind ruffles my unbound hair. The nature spirits are quiet, but restless.

I scan the woods for Shadows. Those inhuman ribbons of obsidian glide silently. Even with a full moon, I will have difficulty discerning them in the natural shadows of the forest. Still, I sense no unnatural presence, and the other Fae have sounded no alarm.

A Fae’s connection to nature isn’t magic, but natural talent, which is why we chose this place. Despite my fast-beating heart, I whisper to the nature spirits. An instant later, from the corner of my eye, a tiny light appears amongst the trees. Then another and another. Water sprites. They leave a small trail of light behind them, like a shooting star. My heart warms. I had forgotten the simple beauty of these elemental spirits.

I stiffen at the awareness of a presence.

Shadows.

As quickly as the thought forms, I register the whistle of wind and the flit of a dozen sprites through the trees. The interlopers aren’t Shadows, but our own—Margiddians. Two…three. No. More. A dozen…two dozen? One is a powerful witch.

Carefully, I press the button of my earpiece and whisper, “We have visitors. At least two dozen Margiddians. Anyone see anything?”

“Nothing here,” Josh replies.

I wait for the other two Fae to respond, but nothing.

“Melinda,” I say.

Nothing.

“Harrison.”

Nothing.

I press the button. “Josh, Anything from Melinda or Harrison?”

I get an earful of static. Bloody hell. We should have known we would have trouble with headsets.

“Josh, if you can hear me, we have company. Stay alert.”

The sprites flit from tree to tree in a nervous rhythm. Forest spirits are not part of Margidda, despite being kin to the Fae. They have nothing to fear from The Shadows, as their magic is nature born, and shadows abound within their realm. But they fear the darkness that could choke them.

I slip behind a two-hundred-year-old oak, press my back to the massive trunk, and connect with a solid strength that grounds me to the earth. With a whispered thanks, I scan the forest and send out a plea, asking the forest to guide my search for the interlopers.

A prickle slides down my spine. Something familiar resides in the energy that presses against me. A rustle of leaves to my left snaps my attention in that direction. I freeze. Is that…yes, Jessica Bailey. My heart twists. Jessica is a beautiful young witch who threw away a promising future when she teamed up with vampire crime boss Elijah Walker. I’d begged her to leave Elijah even after he gave himself over to the Shadow infection that enhanced his power and made him the most powerful crime boss on the Eastern Seaboard. But she loved the power. No doubt, Elijah is here with her.

My anger wells hot and fast before I can prevent the rush of emotion. Elijah’s profits come from the sacrifice of his fellow Margiddians. I release a slow breath and center my being in line with the white light emitted by the witches. I can’t risk drawing Shadows with my anger.

How did Elijah and Jessica learn we were here? Only the witches, Raith, Ethan, myself and the three other Fae guards knew of our plan to battle The Shadows. That means there is a traitor in our midst. Is the traitor one of the witches? No. If that were so, the chain would already have broken. That leaves the three Fae—but nots Josh. I’ve known him since his childhood.

As long as the chain of light remains unbroken, Jessica and Elijah can’t step into the circles of white light. I must deal with Elijah in a calm manner that doesn’t open the door to the anger he’s so skilled at inciting. Jessica, well…that witch is another story.

She’s powerful enough to have joined the witches who form the circles around Raith and Ethan and she will not hesitate to use her magic to stop us—even if that means killing us. Like Elijah, her powers are enhanced by her Shadow infection—and she knows I can’t risk using magic.

I’m a fool. I hadn’t considered that we might fight anything other than Shadows. Then again, I hadn’t considered the possibility of a traitor in our midst. All the lifetimes I’ve lived, I can still be naïve.

As long as I remain hidden, Jessica can’t use her magic directly on me, which requires line of sight. The whisper of leaves crunching beneath a light tread alerts me to their location in the instant before I discern a shape amid the trees. A slight form comes into view amongst the murk of the forest closer to the clearing.