Chapter 22 #2
As we watched, the demon bent over and opened its wide mouth.
As expected, there were many sharp teeth within, and its mouth seemed to grow exponentially as its jaw touched the ground.
Taking this as some sort of sign, the robed figures stepped into its mouth, wide enough now to accommodate them both standing comfortably within. One gulp and they would have been dead.
The creature turned back toward the forest, its head now larger than the rest of its body, and pushed through the trees again, with little care as to what damage it caused along the way.
Its head looked bloated on top of its thin neck, but it hardly seemed to notice the difference in its body’s dimensions as it left us behind.
“So….” Narcissa leapt up onto my shoulder. “Do we have to do that when it returns? Step into that hideous creature’s mouth?”
I winced. “I don’t see a way around it.”
“I would simply swallow us if I were that awful creature,” Narcissa offered. “What an easy meal.”
Freya grunted. “Yes, well, let’s hope a demon has more self-control than you, then.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s likely a test. If we waver, it probably will swallow us.”
“Comforting,” Freya said, frowning at me.
I stared up at the moon, red as blood, seeming to ooze. I couldn’t feel the power radiating from the celestial body, but I knew it was there, ready to be harvested by blood witches and those who practiced blood magic.
In another minute, we heard the trees creak in the distance once more.
The demon appeared quicker this time, at least to my mind, as my certainty plummeted.
What if I was completely wrong about this demon, and it swallowed us because we weren’t supposed to be here?
But I didn’t see a way around this. When it stood before us at the treeline, I mimicked the actions of the witches from earlier, kneeling until it lowered its head to the ground and opened its mouth.
I tried to project confidence as I walked up to the demon with a smile pasted on my face. I bowed my head reverently as I approached its mouth, its black eyes trained on me as if searching deep into the core of my being.
I stepped carefully over its teeth and onto a spongy tongue, where the other witches had stood. I wrinkled my nose. The demon’s mouth smelled of rotten meat. I hated to think that the stench would cling to my clothes.
“We’re in a demon’s mouth,” Therese said to herself. “No big deal. Just a mouth. Just a demon. It’s fine.”
I put a hand on her arm as she stood beside me, and we could feel the demon rise to its feet, throwing me momentarily off-balance. And then we felt a swaying, like being back on the ship.
I eyed the sharp teeth surrounding us. They were huge.
The size of croissants. I wondered if they tasted as good.
I reached out and caressed one, wondering if the demon would feel it if I tried to yank one out by its root, but Freya seemed to read my thoughts and scooted over to place herself firmly between me and my prize.
I frowned at her. “That’s hardly fair. It’s been a long, trying day. I’m peckish.”
“And I’d like for us to survive this experience.”
I stifled a sigh and nodded. “Quite right.”
When we arrived at our destination, presumably a sabbath, we felt the demon lower itself once more. Its mouth opened to allow us to filter out into the night, illuminated from a nearby fire.
I tried to strike a balance between acting unaffected and trying to vacate that mouth as quickly as possible.
I think I did rather well, and since it didn’t eat me, the demon must have agreed.
As soon as we passed over the behemoth’s lips, the huge creature began to sink into the ground like it was quicksand, until it had been swallowed completely by the forest floor.
But I hardly had time to process the demon’s exit; a short distance through the trees, I could make out the glow of another fire and a loud chanting carried by the wind.
I made a beeline for the light until it was just on the other side of a small copse of trees.
Six small fires at the periphery of a circle of robed figures.
We ducked, clinging to the shadows as we observed.
The robed figures stood around an altar, their faces bathed in shadows, the fire throwing menacing shadows across the ground.
There were skulls of various small animals upon the altar, from birds to skunks, with runes traced in blood down the side of the stone.
At the head of the altar was a figure in a blood-red robe.
He wore a gold mask that resembled a ram over his face, with curved horns slipping out the sides of the hood and slits for eyes that regarded the circle.
This was obviously the person behind the ceremony. Erik.
But where was Auggie? He was nowhere in sight. We couldn’t be too late, could we? Until I knew where he was, I didn’t dare interfere. But I had my hands ready in my cloak, caressing ingredients.
The man drew a dagger from his sleeve and picked up a golden goblet.
He pushed back the sleeve on his arm, revealing milky white skin, and ran the blade over his palm, allowing a river of crimson to dribble into the cup.
He then stepped toward the altar, and all the other figures threw off their robes simultaneously.
They were mostly middle-aged, of various body heights and weights.
The witches began to dance clockwise around the altar, singing a song guttural and ancient.
The six women and seven men began dancing wildly as they continued to sing.
The man in the red robe traced a rune onto the chests of the others one at a time with the blood he’d gathered in the goblet.
Then he stepped back, and all the men strode to the altar while the women continued to dance.
I couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but they seemed to be weaving some sort of spell.
Freya sucked in a breath. “I recognize the song as one calling on the ancients to bless them with power and youth. I believe they’re also blessing this place, perhaps the house as well.”
“Okay, but where is Auggie?” I asked, growing impatient. I knew he wouldn’t be sacrificed until later, but his absence made me nervous. I wanted to see him, to assure myself that he was all right.
“There,” Narcissa said, scrutinizing the altar. “Don’t you see it? The air is shimmering.”
I squinted at the figures, searching, until I saw it. The air before the altar shimmered; a blue energy seeming to crackle over it every few seconds. Beneath the shimmering air was a stone base, runes etched into it. A portal. Power was funneling to these witches from it.
“It’s a portal,” Freya confirmed before I voiced it myself. “That’s why he’s not here. Sacrifices are occurring elsewhere.”
“They could be anywhere,” I said, heart thumping. “We have to find out where he is.”
“Of course,” Freya agreed. “I’ll track his location.” Who knew that rune on him would be used to undo the very goal it was placed for. Her fingertips began to glow as she traced a rune in the air. After a moment, she lowered her hand, the rune dispersing all at once.
“Well?”
She shook her head. “He’s nowhere even close to this location. Wherever that portal leads, it’s far from here.”
My cheek twitched. “Then we’ll need to extract the location from these fine gentlefolk.”
“I can assist with that. I’ve had a week to harness conjuring winds.
It shouldn’t be too different to generate a little more force.
” Freya lifted her hand to trace another rune.
Wind began to tear through the clearing, and the men and women paused in their dancing to brace themselves, looking around in confusion.
Freya held up a hand before the rune she created, stepping out from the safety of the trees.
She turned her hand on a pair of men, who immediately flew across the clearing under the force of hurricane winds.
She smiled brightly at her success before turning to the other witches. “Let’s all remain civil, shall we?”
A woman reached for her discarded robe, where a dagger was visible, and Freya quickly sent her flying backward into a tree, where she slammed into it with a loud crack, rolling unconscious to the ground.
The other witches held up their hands in surrender as I stepped around Freya, staring down Erik.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
Erik tilted his head, watching me. “To whom are you referring?”
“You know who we mean,” Therese said, scowling at my side. “Where’s Auggie?”
“Auggie!” the man barked a laugh. “You mean one of the sacrifices?”
“Erik, is …” I stalked to the man and ripped his mask off. It wasn’t Erik, but some witch I’d never laid eyes on before, in his early fifties. “Where is Erik?”
The man chuckled, shaking his head. “With the one you seek, apparently.”
“He’s stalling,” Narcissa said. She let a tongue of flame escape her lips and unfurled her wings to look more threatening. “Let me boil his blood a little so he talks.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” the man said, holding a hand up.
“The sacrifices are taking place through there,” he said, indicating the portal.
“The magic siphoned from the villages will power the enchantment on these ground for … centuries. It will ensure we remain powerful. Once he takes his rightful place as the Blood King, I’m sure Erik would be willing to share his power with a few more witches, if you’d like to join our coven. ”
Freya’s lips curled. “Covens are expressly forbidden by the Council of Witches. For this exact reason. You’re overreaching and shifting the balance of power.”
“The Council of Witches has no authority here,” the man snorted, and Freya paled at his words, as they were true.
“They hoard power for themselves while the rest of us get the scraps. Witches like Erik with a vision, a true vision, come along once in a lifetime. We don’t have to sit idly by while the old ones like Ambrosia expand their lands, keeping us from any true power.
We can be a part of something bigger without them. ”
“I’m growing weary of this talk,” I said. “Where does the portal lead? Where is Erik?”
The man smiled. “Across the vast ocean. Erik is a clever man. Here, our coven could prepare the sacrifice and siphon power through the portal without interference from the Witch’s Council.
And there, he can take the power of the sacrifice’s life as well as an entire town without drawing the ire of our new neighbors. ”
The witching hour…. It was still five and a half hours away. “Freya,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “What is the time difference between New York and London?”
“Five hours,” Freya said, lips drawn.
Panic seized my chest. We had to get there. Now.
“What are we walking into?” I asked.
The man shrugged. “Erik needs human sacrifices as well as his prizes. Across three villages. He was going to use this fishing village in Greenland, but the Ice Queen froze the entire town to prevent him from gaining the powers he deserves.”
The Ice Queen … had been preventing Erik from seizing power? I felt suddenly nauseous. I hadn’t thought for a second that what the Ice Queen had been doing could have been construed as anything but malicious. But she could have stopped this entire thing.
“And you’re using a loophole in our laws to funnel that power outside of the Council’s jurisdiction,” Freya frowned. “But why New York? Why is Lucifer involved?”
The man elaborated, “Saint Akilah. The bastard-child of God’s angels who’s gaining support in the city?
She’s growing too powerful. Lucifer wants her gone.
And we need a good deal of power to take her on.
” He crossed his arms. “It would have all fallen apart without that fishing village. Luckily, he ran into some witches who informed him of another village ripe for the taking,” the witch continued, unaware of my dawning horror.
“In the Ember King’s domain. Or what used to be the Ember King’s domain, from what I understand. ”
I met Freya’s eyes. Kingsbury. The very town we had freed from the Ember King was now being sacrificed to another power-hungry witch.
And we had created a portal right to them.