Chapter 22 When Blood Spills
My chest constricted, and my heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst through my ribs. Adrenaline roared through my veins, hot and wild.
“Stay here,” Atlas whispered, and I nodded once, too afraid to speak.
For such a tall and broad man, he moved with terrifying silence, like a trained assassin ready for his next kill.
He unsheathed his sword, and the hiss of metal being freed echoed in the deadly stillness.
Then the instant his fingers brushed the metal, ancient markings along the blade ignited with light.
I barely had time to register the runes before he was moving toward the sound, his sword raised and his steps soundless.
I didn’t know if it was fear of being left alone or my natural instinct to run toward danger, but before I realized what I was doing, I was following him. My pulse was a drumbeat in my ears. I was unarmed, but I’d been unarmed before and still lived to tell the tale.
The creek shimmered in the distance, the light from an unknown source cutting across the surface so I could see the stony bed beneath.
A shiver ran through me as I imagined what could be lurking there.
The air hummed, the sound sharp and crackling, like static building on a storm-charged wire.
I could feel it crawling across my skin, tugging at the natural current that always seemed to hum within me.
It was the same strange energy I’d felt near the Rift.
My head turned sharply, scanning the shadows, half-expecting to see the Rift itself stretching out from the trees, growing stronger, reaching for us. But there was no outline, no shimmering veil, only the thick, oppressive light and the feeling that something powerful was near.
Something large moved at the edge of my vision. I spun and swung my fist, only to feel my wrist caught midair.
“I told you to stay back,” Atlas growled, his face tight with frustration as he held my arm in place.
Before I could answer, the static in the air thickened. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Each pulse of energy made the leaves and twigs around us twitch and jump, the earth itself vibrating in place like a breathless warning.
“I’m not letting you fight alone,” I snapped. “Do you have any more weapons?” My eyes darted around, searching the shadows for an unseen attacker.
“Ordinary weapons won’t work on this one,” he said grimly, nodding toward the light.
I shielded my eyes, squinting through the glare.
Within the blinding white glow, I could just make out the silhouette of a petite woman.
Her arms were raised, her form small but filled with impossible power.
Blue light pulsed from her hands, changing to white as it spread outward, flooding the clearing in waves.
“What do you want, Goetes?” Atlas’s voice boomed across the clearing, low and commanding, but she only laughed. An unholy sound that scraped at my bones.
The swirling energy stilled. The air went heavy, yet the light remained, bleaching the forest in an unnatural glow.
“Goetes?” I repeated under my breath, and Atlas leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
“A spellcaster, from my world. A witch in yours.”
I swallowed hard, every nerve alive with unease. I had encountered many things since the Rift, but never a witch. And now, one stood before us, dripping with power.
“I have come for the key, false King of The?kós,” she hissed, her words thick with venom. Atlas let out a sound that was almost a growl, low and primal. Instinctively, I moved behind him, his tall frame shielding me completely as his stance widened.
“She is not yours to take,” he warned, his tone cold as the steel in his hands. The witch tilted her head, smiling faintly. The light around her dimmed, and when she spoke again, her voice echoed through the clearing, surrounding us, vibrating in the air as though the heavens themselves had spoken.
“Give me the key, and I might let you live.”
When her words faded, the light surged brighter again. I realized then that the glow was tied to her power, waning when she spoke, flaring when she acted. She was the source, the current, the storm itself.
Atlas’s response came sharp and defiant.
“You will never take the key, not while the blood of the Gods still flows within me.”
I would have liked to have questioned that bold statement, wondering for only a brief moment if he was really a descendant of the Gods. Of course, now was hardly the time, as the witch shrugged, her expression cold and almost bored.
“So be it,” she said before thrusting her hands forward, and the white light exploded from her palms, rushing toward us at impossible speed.
I barely had time to react, yet thankfully my instincts took over, making me drop to my knees and throw my hands up in front of my face just as the world was consumed by blinding light.
A crash came from my right, and I opened my eyes, confused that I hadn’t been thrown across the clearing or shocked by thousands of volts of electricity.
Balls of white light continued to streak toward us, but each one veered off at the last second, curving sharply as if hitting an invisible wall.
They spiraled away and crashed into the verge or burst against the forest across the creek.
Atlas let out a humorless laugh.
“Your magic won’t work on me, witch!”
“Ah, but I have far more where that came from!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Daylight flooded the clearing, bright and merciless, the sun filtering through the trees in fractured shafts that danced across the forest floor. I shot to my feet, my hand finding Atlas’s arm without thought. My breath came fast, shallow, each inhale tight with panic I couldn’t suppress.
“Where is she?” I whispered, the tremor in my voice betraying me.
“Shh.” Atlas took my hand from his arm, his grip firm but grounding. He didn’t let go. “I hope she doesn’t try any more of that Dragon Ball Z shit,” I muttered under my breath.
“Do I want to know?” he asked dryly.
“Probably not,” I replied, and despite him having no idea what I meant, his lips twitched, a fleeting spark of humor before the storm returned.
Then a faint flicker of light caught my eye, glowing where the witch had stood before. Another pulse followed, and another. Thin tendrils of pale light crawled from her fingertips, snaking upward until they vanished into her skull. When the glow reached her face, I gasped.
Deep wrinkles carved through her skin like cracked bark, heavy around the twisted corners of her mouth.
Cold sores clung to what remained of her lips, framing black, rotted stumps that had once been teeth.
Her pointed chin jutted sharply, warts and scabs clustered in sickly clumps.
Her eyes, two milky voids that somehow found mine, as if seeing into me rather than at me.
Strands of thin, greasy hair whipped around her skull as energy pulsed through her, the air alive with her corruption.
The smell of burning rot hit me like acid.
“Don’t you know who I am, Goetes?” Atlas thundered, unaffected by the sight, unlike me.
His voice filled with authority that made the earth vibrate beneath us.
“I am my father’s son. Your mind tricks will not work on me.
And as for your physical power, ha! I have never seen anything so pathetic in my life,” he taunted, making me swallow hard.
“Er… is it wise to piss off the crazed bag of bones that wants us dead?” I hissed, but it was already too late.
The witch’s scream shattered the night. It wasn’t human, it was a sound that clawed at my flesh, scraping through marrow and finally echoing in my skull.
I clapped my hands over my ears as the air itself seemed to shake.
Then came the barrage of power.
Lightning burst from her palms, wild and uncontrolled. Bolts of white energy ripped through the clearing, searing through the air like a storm of spears. The first strike hit the ground inches from my feet, exploding dirt and embers upward. I stumbled back, choking on the acrid smoke.
Atlas strode forward, unflinching, his sword gleaming low by his side. The power radiating off him was a living thing, a pulse that pushed the air away from his skin.
I wanted to follow, but his hand shot out behind him in a silent command to stay back. I froze. Every instinct screamed at me to move, to fight, to help him, but I couldn’t break his order.
Bolts veered off course, bending in unnatural arcs as if repelled by some unseen barrier around him.
The crackling magic split against his invisible shield, curving away to hit the trees instead.
Bark splintered, flames leapt to life, and the air filled with the sharp scent of ozone and burning wood.
When one bolt whipped toward me, I threw myself down, hitting the dirt hard. I felt the pulse of energy skim just above me, hot enough to singe the hair at my temples. Then it ricocheted away, deflected by the same strange force that guarded Atlas.
The world strobed white and black, each flash freezing us in violent tableaux, and despite it all, Atlas continued to advance. The witch retreating, lightning wrapping around them both like a furious halo.
But then her power began to wane, almost like Atlas knew it would, and I smiled. The light faltered and her arms trembled, her breath now ragged. The glow around her flickered like a dying flame.
As for Atlas, he didn’t slow. He was a force of absolute purpose, his movements sharp, efficient, lethal.
The witch stumbled, and I saw the moment fear entered her dead eyes. She raised her hands again, mustering the last of her power, but only sparks danced weakly across her fingertips.
Atlas closed the distance in a heartbeat. His sword flashed, catching the light in a single silver arc. The sound of steel meeting flesh was quick, clean, final. The blade pierced her chest, straight through her heart.