Chapter 47 Hector
HECTOR
Ileft the illusion of my family home behind, walking out the front door without ever looking back. What waited before the door was a forest of sorts.
Sunlight dappled through the branches of trees, and the ground beneath my feet was soft with moss and bracken.
It was beautiful. Birds sang from hidden places.
In the distance between a wall of thick trees, the sun glinted off the surface of an azure lake.
Swans glided over it, chased by their fluffy-feathered cygnets.
Bahmet stirred within me, like a cat bathing in a beam of sunlight, stretching its limbs and meowing with pleasure. It was hard not to share in the same feeling as the demon lord now using my body as his home, but I tried my hardest. Any discomfort that Bahmet recognised only seemed to humour him.
“Remember, Tomin will face his punishment within this realm,” Bahmet reminded, his voice so clear in my skull that it was like he stood at my side and whispered into my ear. “Do what you wish with him, but when we go, he is to stay.”
“I got it,” I said, fixing my eyes on the very man I’d wanted to see.
Tomin Hopkin stood in the centre of a clearing, pacing back and forth in front of a severed stump of a tree. It was waist height, and had nothing of particular importance on it.
Yet.
A branch cracked under my foot, alerting him to my arrival. He spun around, heavy shadows beneath tired eyes. And yet, he was alert. His fists balled, eyes looking behind me expectantly.
“I was beginning to wonder where you’d gone,” Tomin said, fixing his gaze back on me.
“I’m sorry that I kept you waiting,” I lied, doing my level best to act as confused as he was. “Is this the final trial?”
Tomin’s lip curled ever so slightly. “It would seem Bahmet has some grand plans for us, yes. Perhaps now you’ve found your way to me, it will begin.”
I’d just tested his knowledge of what was happening, which would determine how this all played out. Tomin didn’t know that Bahmet was living inside of me. Not yet at least. He thought, as I had with the illusion of my family’s home, that we were facing the final trial.
Tomin may have been immortal, but time certainly didn’t sharpen his senses as I expected.
“Any clues?” I asked as if I was speaking to an ally, and not my greatest enemy.
His eyes narrowed. “What does it matter, huh? You’re the last witch. You win either way.”
I chewed on the insides of my cheeks, pondering his reply, wondering which path I should take to answer. I opted to cut through the shit, and get to the meat of why I wanted this interaction. “Did you read my note?”
I watched Tomin whisk a hand into his pocket and withdraw the parchment he’d stolen from my pocket after he’d knocked me out. Of course, that was what I wanted to happen. A brush of relief coiled over my skin like a fresh gust of spring wind.
“Over and over,” Tomin answered, brows furrowing as he looked down at the rumpled piece of paper. “And I can’t work out exactly what type of trick you’re trying to play with me.”
“Give it back,” I snapped, feigning panic and desperation.
Tomin’s fingers folded over the parchment, a protective, obsessive nature overcoming him. “I don’t think I will. Old magic I’d gather… must be important if you brought it with you.”
“No tricks.” I smiled honestly. “I got the impression that you wouldn’t have let me explain myself when I came for you.
Next best thing was writing it down. Someone once told me that if you have something important to say, write it down.
It immortalises it for a time. Words spoken fade on the wind, but it takes fire—or great power—to rid the written word. ”
Tomin shook the paper at me. He was stood on the other side of the tree stump, perhaps because he feared me. Or maybe, deep down, he sensed that something was different. A flash of shadow in my eyes, or the way the puppeteer controlling my body had me stand straighter, shoulders broader.
“You vowed, in written word, to lift my curse if you won the Witch Trials. The sentiment is there, but I don’t understand why you’d give me what I have always wanted when I have caused you so much pain.”
I laughed, a sharp crackling sound that ruined the peace of the forest. “It’s never been the pain you caused me that I cared about.
It is the ruin you’ve left behind in everything else you’ve touched.
Your son, the people you love… all tools to get you to this moment.
If I refused your greatest wish, it would mean all the pain you dished out would be for nothing.
Perhaps I’m crazy in thinking that, well actually…
not perhaps—I’ve always been slightly unhinged. ”
Tomin regarded me, let my words sink in and then pocketed the note. I was happy to know it was still on his person. After all, what was scrawled upon it would be useless if he didn’t keep it close to him.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Hector. But your offer is worthless unless you win,” Tomin said, his eyes widening slightly. “Unless you’ve already won. Is my thinking correct?”
I grinned ever harder, flashing teeth. “Yes. I have won.”
For a brief moment, the air seemed to be sucked out of the forest. The birds stopped singing, the swan ceased its dance on the lake. Even the breeze held for a moment, settling the branches of trees to still.
“Then you’ve come to taunt me, or maybe you are here to punish me. Which is it?”
Bahmet grew uncomfortable. A sharp pricking reminded me of his one and only requirement.
I felt the demon’s desire like a needle held to the back of my neck, just shy of all the important nerves between my skull and spine.
Bahmet was reminding me that he could hurt me with a thought. Harm my body without much effort.
“I have no intention to do either of the sort,” I said, firm and steady. “A promise is a promise. I came to lift your curse, because I’m the only one with the power to do so.”
“Just as simple as that?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. I’m not going to give you what you want, until I hear you agree to something I want. A bargain… you could say.”
“Spit it out. Funnily enough I am in the mood to make deals with demons today.”
It took a second to know he was referring to me, not the monster beneath my flesh. “Straight to the meat then. No messing around.”
I took a deep breath, latching onto all the power Bahmet offered me. Sour, disgusting and rotten as it was to touch, I certainly felt like a god.
“I am willing to free you of the curse Eleanor Letcombe laid upon you, but only if you agree to never step foot near a witch again. Not your son. Not the innocent women and men that simply wish to live in a world free of prejudice and hate. You withdraw from the Hunters, and let us deal with them. Move somewhere quiet. Live out the rest of your days by the seaside, contemplating the many years of mistakes you’ve made.
Read a book. Drink. To be honest, I don’t care what you do, except keeping your distance until time catches up to you.
Can you do that, Tomin Hopkin? Can you set aside your hate, your life’s work for a future of peace? ”
“You’d take my word for it, when you have just given a speech about how binding the written word is, compared to the spoken?” Tomin asked. “I could lie. I could tell you exactly what you want to hear, and go back on my word. And what, that’s just a risk you are willing to take?”
“Oh, babes, risk is my middle name.” My heart beat rapidly in my chest, a heavy thump that was so powerful my ribs almost cracked. “All I need to hear you say is you agree. You accept my terms and it’s done.”
Tomin grinned to himself, then turned his stare back to me. “Then I agree.”
“Fabulous,” I said, waving a hand with a fixed intention in my mind.
Upon the stump, a crown materialised. It was dramatic, heavy looking. Made from rich metals that gleamed in the light. Set on a band of silver, spikes stood up like the tips of mountains, except each one was decorated with different shades of gems and crystals.
“What’s this got to do with our agreement?” Tomin said, stepping closer to the crown.
“Well,” I said, moving around the stump until we were beside one another.
“As a show of good will, you are going to crown me the victor of the Witch Trials. I will lift your curse, bend the knee and accept this prize from you and you alone. Consider it a peace offering. An exchange between us to solidify how the future will go on.”
I knew it would take a lot for Tomin, a man who’d spent his twisted, long life hunting witches, to have to crown one. Of course, the idea of crowning was slightly dramatic, but I had to be smart. I couldn’t create something that was so obviously a weapon, not with Bahmet watching.
Tomin picked the crown up, turning it over in his hands. I wondered if he noticed how sharp the tips were, as I had. How the light winked upon each pointed end as though the sun blessed each protrusion with a new gem of gold.
“If you wish me to feed into your ego, then I will do it.”
I curtsied, throwing my hands back behind me for dramatic flare.
“I’d like that. Although I sense your discomfort, it reeks.
So, as a show of good faith I will remove the curse first to prove at least I’m a man of my word.
As much as I do enjoy you being in uneasiness, I’m not wanting to poke the bear for the sake of it. ”
Bahmet shifted beneath my flesh, filling every inch. He was a sponge, soaking the water that was my soul, slowly taking over in case there was a requirement.
Something had set the demon at unease, which only made me want to do this quickly.
“Kneel first for me,” I commanded, gesturing to the ground for Tomin.
He did as I asked, putting the crown down first before he got on the ground. I’d never lifted curses before, so I hoped Bahmet would guide me. It seemed my wish had come true because my arm lifted, not because I wanted it to, and I laid it upon Tomin’s head.