Chapter Thirty
THIRTY
“Eleonore!”
Ben’s pulse thundered as he ran after her, choking on the black smoke that obscured his vision and burned his lungs. She’d screamed once from within that darkness before going silent, and terror clawed at his chest.
Was the barn on fire? He didn’t feel heat, but what else could it be?
He’d aimed his feet in the direction of the exit, but he couldn’t see where the opening was. Thankfully, a gust of wind parted the smoke long enough for him to catch a glimpse of the night sky—and Eleonore staggering down the slope toward a small pond. The smoke followed her, and he realized it was coming from something coiled around her arm.
He shoved the second barn door open. People were running and screaming, but he only had eyes for Eleonore.
What was that on her arm?
He gained on her quickly, feet churning up mud and grass. “Eleonore!” he shouted.
She tripped, falling onto hands and knees. Then she crawled forward through a veil of smoke…and tumbled face-first into the pond.
Ben leaped into the pool after her with an enormous splash. His feet hit bottom when the water reached his neck. Damn , that was cold. Ben’s muscles cramped, but adrenaline kept him moving. He fumbled around, trying to find Eleonore beneath the water.
His fingers touched soft skin, and he pulled her upright.
Eleonore emerged coughing and spluttering. Her feet kicked his shin before she stepped on his boot to gain purchase, chin barely topping the water.
“What happened?” Ben asked, frantically patting her underwater. “Were you on fire? Are you hurt?”
In response, Eleonore lifted her arm out of the water…revealing a snake wrapped around it. The reptile slid off and sank into the water.
“F-fine,” Eleonore said, teeth chattering.
Bull shit she was fine. Ben hauled her into his arms and waded toward shore. The smoke was receding now that the snake—which had apparently been the cause—was gone, and a crowd of shocked people surrounded the pond. “Someone call a doctor,” he shouted.
“Call a w-warlock for p-poison n-negation,” Eleonore corrected, clinging to him with her left arm. Her right hung limp at her side. “That was a s-smoke adder.”
Ben’s stomach dropped. He’d seen those on a nature documentary, and his memory said they were highly venomous.
“I’m calling Alzapraz,” Themmie said. “If anyone knows how to fix this, it’s him.”
Ben hoisted Eleonore out of the pond before clambering out himself. An icy whip of wind lashed his skin, and he shivered. Eleonore was shivering worse, though.
“Is she okay?” Gigi asked, crouching beside them. “What was that?”
“Smoke adder,” Ben said tersely. “Someone must have planted it to sabotage the rally.”
Gigi made an outraged noise, then stood and moved away to make a phone call, presumably to the police. She shot worried glances over at Eleonore every few seconds.
Eleonore glanced at her arm, then grimaced and closed her eyes. When Ben followed her gaze, he wished he hadn’t. Her skin was red and swollen around the puncture wounds, resembling an overcooked sausage on the verge of splitting.
“Stay with me, sweetheart,” Ben said, wet hand trembling on her forehead. “Please.” If he could order her to heal, he would, but his commands only affected her actions, not the inner processes of her body.
“N-not dying,” Eleonore said through gritted teeth. “I think, anyway.”
“You’d better not be,” he said vehemently. When she groaned, he looked around wildly. “Does anyone have a first aid kit? A blanket? Anything?”
Astaroth shucked off his suit coat, and Ben wrapped it around Eleonore, who moaned at being jostled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We need to keep you warm.”
“This hurts like a bitch ,” she spat.
“I can confirm,” Astaroth said, forehead furrowed. “One of those bit me in Andorra a few centuries back. It hurts, but it isn’t fatal if you disengage the snake quickly enough.”
How quick was quickly enough? Maybe twenty seconds had passed between Eleonore’s scream and her tumble into the water.
“Ben?” Eleonore asked without opening her eyes.
“Yes?” He stroked her wet hair back from her face.
“Don’t let anyone kill the snake. It doesn’t know any better.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Ben’s eyes blurred with tears at the gesture of kindness to something that didn’t deserve it. He might dislike hunting during the full moon, but he would gladly smash that snake with a rock right now.
When he didn’t say anything further, Eleonore slitted her eyes open. “I mean it,” she slurred. “Can’t b-blame something with t-teeth for biting.”
A lump filled his throat. “All right, I’ll keep the snake safe.” Assuming it hadn’t already drowned. “Please just focus on getting better.”
“I’ll get the snake,” Calladia said, pulling thread out of the pocket of her leggings and heading to the pond.
His friends were clustered around them. Oz consulted with Astaroth while Themmie flitted back and forth, making air drops of various helpful items: a horse blanket, a water bottle, a sweatshirt. As Ben dragged the blanket over Eleonore, Mariel crouched and pressed her finger to Eleonore’s forehead. “I’m going to try a pain relief spell,” she said. Her finger traced runes as she whispered.
Eleonore opened her eyes more fully when Mariel was done. “Thank you,” she said, voice raspy with smoke. “That helped.”
“Good.” Mariel smiled. “It doesn’t look any better, but that should keep you feeling okay for a few minutes.”
Eleonore shivered.
“Let’s get you warmed up,” Ben said. He looked at Mariel. “Do you have a spell for that?”
“No, but I bet Calladia does.”
Calladia had returned from the pond with the snake floating midair beside her in a cage woven of light. Ben glared at the creature, wishing he had wolf fangs to bare at it.
“Yeah, I’ve got something,” Calladia said. She pulled thread from her pocket again and started tying knots. “ Ayorva en corporiyil .”
A wave of heat rose from Eleonore’s prone form, and her hair instantly dried. A moment later the same heat hit Ben, expanding outward from his core. Even the droplets on his glasses vanished.
He exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”
“Alzapraz was drinking two blocks away,” Themmie announced, buzzing into view. “He’ll be here soon, and he told me the ingredients he needs for a poultice. Mariel, can you summon them?”
“Absolutely.” Mariel went to consult with Themmie.
Alzapraz Spark was Mariel’s ancestor and an expert in many types of magic, chief among them life magic. But the warlock’s mastery was incomplete, and his physical body had aged despite his immortality—which meant Ben had doubts about how “soon” the decrepit man would be able to get there. He gritted his teeth against the surge of impatience and shifted to put Eleonore’s head in his lap. “You’re doing great,” he told her.
“I know I am,” Eleonore snapped.
Ben was going to take her peevishness as a good sign. He stroked her hair, pressing his lips together to suppress their trembling.
Mariel returned with an armful of ingredients. She knelt down and started mashing a mixture of bananas, toadstools, herbs, and milk in a copper bowl. Ben forced himself to match his frantic breathing to the steady grind of the pestle. Eleonore needed him to be her rock right now.
Her free hand caught his, and she squeezed his fingers. She didn’t speak, but her eyes shone with fear. Ben’s own eyes prickled with tears as he raised her knuckles to his mouth. “It’s going to be okay,” he said roughly.
“Here’s Alzapraz,” Mariel said, standing and brushing grass off her knees.
The ancient warlock took Mariel’s place, kneeling with a cacophony of groans and clicking joints. He had long white hair, a scraggly beard, and age-spotted skin so wrinkled it looked like he’d been twisted up and wrung out, but his eyes were bright and intelligent beneath caterpillar eyebrows. “Smoke adder, eh?” he said in a voice like a creaking floorboard. “One of those bit my testicles once. Not fun.”
Astaroth and Oz made matching noises of alarm. Ben would have, too, if he didn’t have more pressing things to worry about.
“H-how did a snake get near your testicles?” Eleonore asked.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve played the Russian roulette of sex games with a bevy of kinky snake shifters,” Alzapraz wheezed. “It was still worth it.”
“Can you please stop talking and fix her?” Ben asked. He wouldn’t normally be so rude to Mariel’s relative—or anyone else—but this was a dire situation.
“Yes, yes,” Alzapraz said, waving a hand. “All things in their time.” The warlock grabbed the bowl, then daubed the mixture onto Eleonore’s arm. “ Genezserpil o’ corpora ,” he muttered. Then he pulled a strip of linen from the sleeve of his purple velvet robe and tied it around the wound. “Keep that on for a few hours,” he said. “At midnight, go outside and light a candle to Hecate, then remove the bandage and bathe the wound in moonlight. You’ll be good as new.”
Eleonore already looked more relaxed, and Ben was pleased to see her arm was shrinking back to its normal size. “Thank you,” she said, sitting up.
“You have an ancient sound to your voice,” Alzapraz said, inspecting her closely. “When do you hail from?”
“France, some six centuries past.”
He coughed. “I haven’t met anyone that close to my age in a while. You’re much better preserved than me, though.”
Eleonore cocked her head, looking curious. “How old are you?”
“Older than that,” he said dryly. He started to stand, got a few inches off the ground, then sank back down. “Curse it, I’m going to have to lose more of my dignity, aren’t I?”
“I’ll help you up,” Themmie said. She ignored his glower, deftly raising him to his feet with one flap of her wings.
Eleonore was staring intently at Alzapraz. “You’re a life warlock,” she said, and Ben instantly understood her train of thought.
“Guilty as charged,” Alzapraz said.
“Do you know another life witch who goes by the moniker the Witch in the Woods?” Eleonore asked. “A few inches shorter than me, pale skin, long dark hair, likes Star Trek , and has a habit of mystically enslaving assassins?”
Ben was tempted to smack his forehead. Of course they should have asked Alzapraz first. How had he not thought of that? Vast age and experience aside, Alzapraz might be familiar with other practitioners of life magic. Maybe there was a directory of sorts.
“ Star Trek ?” The wrinkles deepened into canyons as Alzapraz’s forehead furrowed. “Can’t say about that part, but the Witch in the Woods, sure.” He let out another wheezing chuckle. “I told her that was a boring name, but she insisted simple was better to be remembered over the centuries. Guess she was right.”
Eleonore shot to her feet instantly, and her fists clenched in the old man’s robe. “Tell me where she is,” she hissed, baring her fangs. “I will rip her heart out, eat it, and floss my teeth with her veins.”
Ben winced at the words as he clambered to his own feet. Not everyone was as accustomed to Eleonore’s dramatic threats as he was.
Alzapraz didn’t seem alarmed, though. “I’m beginning to understand the assassin portion of your question.”
“Eleonore,” Ben said, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. “He did just save your life.”
“I’m not going to floss with his veins,” Eleonore pointed out as she released the robe. Then she eyed the ancient warlock. “Sorry. Thank you for saving my life.”
Alzapraz waved a hand. “Never get offended by someone else’s centuries-old blood feud, that’s what I always say.” He tipped his head to the side, and his neck cracked loudly before he put his hand to it with a grimace. “Funny you should mention the Witch in the Woods. Astaroth and Calladia went to see her a few years back.”
Eleonore whipped her head around to glare at Astaroth. “What?”
Ben mirrored the movement and the question. “ What? ”
He liked Astaroth, but if the demon had known about the Witch in the Woods this whole time and hadn’t said anything…
Astaroth’s jaw dropped. “Isobel?” he asked. “ She’s the witch you’re looking for?”
Isobel. The villain had a name at last.
“Oh, shit,” Calladia said, eyes wide as she looked between Eleonore and Astaroth. “I knew I didn’t like her even before she tried to have us killed.”
Eleonore snapped her fangs. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Yeah,” Ben echoed, crossing his arms and glaring. “Why didn’t you?”
Astaroth held his hands up. “In my defense, she didn’t call herself the Witch in the Woods or skulk around in a cloak when we met her. It was a brief encounter, really. I tried to regain the immortality she’d stolen, she called my nemesis to have him murder us…” He shrugged. “Just business.”
Ben couldn’t believe it. Astaroth and Calladia had fallen in love during a road trip to find an infamous witch two years ago, seeking the return of Astaroth’s immortality and advice for defeating his enemy on the demon high council. The witch had been less than helpful and had promptly sold them out to said enemy.
Had Eleonore been in the cabin on that day two years ago, watching Star Trek ? Or had she been trapped in the crystal, dreaming cold, lonely dreams?
“Where is she?” Eleonore demanded. She was trembling head to toe, and Ben couldn’t imagine the intensity of what she must be feeling.
“About two days’ drive from here,” Astaroth said.
Ben’s heart raced. He could hardly breathe. Two days? That was nothing. He grabbed Eleonore’s hand. “We can leave first thing tomorrow,” he promised.
Eleonore’s lips quivered as she looked up at him. Then she buried her face in his chest and began to cry.