Chapter III.30 #2
Possibly she was better prepared for this sort of attack than Miria. The abomination charged into view as Miria searched her purse for any supplies she could use in this fight, but she’d had to limit herself.
Rosmilda’s new creature was larger than the first—so much larger that Miria wondered where Rosmilda had been stashing it—and even more hideous, another amalgam of bone and rotting flesh, but this time, it was armored.
Rosmilda had not intended for this creature to be brought down so easily.
Thick hide was secured around its stinking torso and a metal band around its neck to prevent the most fatal of blows.
For a tail, she’d attached a morningstar, and when it roared …
“Shit!” Adaline scrambled backward, and Miria went with her. “It’s a dragon. Can she do that?”
Magical green fire singed the grass and sent putrid smoke into the air.
“I think she did.” Miria’s heart beat so hard it felt like it might burst through her chest. If the creature’s head was lopped off and its body down, she could destroy the heart, forever ending the magic powering it.
But she had nothing to stop it, no means of destroying its physical form. The guardsmen would have to do that.
Adaline glanced down at her dagger and groaned. “I really need a sword.”
“You really need to stay away from it,” Miria corrected her.
Adaline looked like she wanted to argue, but the beast swung its modified tail and another table went hurling through the air. Guards, who’d been trying to get close, darted out of the way. More crossbow bolts flew. A few hit the leather hide, but they did nothing to slow the creature down.
Miria pulled a knot of twine and nettle from her purse. “Let the guard handle it. Stay safe. If I can stop Rosmilda, that may put an end to it, too. Did you get what I need?”
Adaline snapped her attention away from the abomination.
“Oh, yes! I was able to do everything as planned before she enchanted me. I gave your protective charms to your sisters when I met them this morning, so they should be safe, too, unless Rosmilda found those. Here.” Adaline reached into her bodice and withdrew a strand of hair in Rosmilda’s shade.
“I can’t promise it’s hers, but I removed it from her gown last night at dinner without her noticing. ”
Quickly, Miria knotted the hair around her existing knot, whispering the words to the spell and hoping she was doing this correctly.
Nalki had helped her with the steps yesterday, going as far as allowing Miria to temporarily bind her magic to practice, but Rosmilda would be fighting her, and Nalki had warned her that would make a huge difference.
It was why they’d all come—to combine their powers.
But the other witches didn’t appear to have made it past Rosmilda’s ward yet, and Miria didn’t have time to wait. The guests and the guards couldn’t afford it.
One knot done, Miria scanned the grounds. She didn’t believe Rosmilda would have gone far, and that had been too easy.
An ugly cry rang in Miria’s ears, then Rosmilda’s voice. “You stupid little witch. You can’t bind my magic when I have no power of my own.”
Miria didn’t deign to answer her, if she even could. Rosmilda had learned much and taught herself more, but she didn’t know everything, including that Miria could bind her ability to use stolen power by altering a normal binding spell. Like Yali had once promised her—there was always more to learn.
Miria began the second knot, but she before she could finish, a gust of wind knocked her over.
Nearby roses climbed from their pots. They lifted into the air, and hurtled themselves at her in a barrage of thorns.
Miria raised her arms to protect her face and skin, and Adaline jumped in front of her, taking the bulk of the assault.
“Keep going!” Adaline yelled. Blood dripped from her hands. “I see her. She’s coming this way.”
Miria completed the knot, and this time, Rosmilda’s scream was not only in her head. Miria took a deep breath, channeling as much power as she could into the spell as she worked on the third.
The ground rumbled beneath her, and the abomination’s stench grew worse. Adaline, covered in blood and with roses stuck to her hair and dress, yanked Miria to her feet. “Never mind. She’s sending the thing this way. Run!”
Miria glanced over her shoulder as the abomination lumbered toward them, and she did as commanded. Sweat poured down her neck and slicked her fingers on the spell knot. Green fire lit up the grass and the air, almost pretty in its deadliness.
“I can’t cast and run at the same time,” she said, holding up her skirt as she and Adaline passed the wedding arch.
The abomination had slowed; it was favoring one side as it moved. The guards had done some damage, and they continued to attack.
“Look!” Adaline pointed.
Rosmilda stood along the stone terrace at the back of the manor. She’d woven a wall of thorns from the roses around herself, giving her plenty of room to cast, but enough of a barrier to keep anyone from getting close. It was a simple and elegant wall, but also weak.
Miria grabbed Adaline’s arm. “Tell some of the guards to direct their attacks on Rosmilda. Perhaps they’ll listen if it comes from you. We need to tire her out.”
It went against everything Miria wanted if she was trying to protect the children whose stolen blood Rosmilda used, but she didn’t see another way.
Adaline nodded and called out Miria’s orders to the nearest guards. They didn’t seem to like the idea, and Miria understood. A magical beast was terrifying, but just a beast. A woman who controlled that beast was terrifying for entirely different reasons.
Still, if men thought they were the only ones who should be allowed swords and armor, they’d best step up to the responsibility. Adaline seemed to be thinking the same, because she grabbed a sword from an injured guard and charged toward Rosmilda herself, and that urged the others into action.
Miria abandoned her knots for the moment, pulled her feather from her purse, and summoned the wind. Two could play that game. With a slice of her arm, she sent a gust howling in Rosmilda’s direction, causing her barrier of thorns and roses to go flying.
Rosmilda screamed with anger, but before she could retaliate, she saw the guards. They’d seized the opening Miria had given them and were sprinting forward. Quickly, Rosmilda changed tactics, and a gust hurtled the men backward.
Miria called upon the birds next. These were not the ones who knew her from the woods, but they heard her anyway and responded to her magic.
The air filled with wings—brown, black, and gray—and the chattering and cawing of a small army.
They swooped down on Rosmilda, but they never made it close.
The air shimmered around her, and the birds at the front of the charge diverted at the last moment before crashing into a magical ward.
Miria saw the moment Rosmilda was forced to temporarily divert her focus from the abomination.
It lasted only a second, but it was the sign she’d been looking for.
Rosmilda was exhausting herself and her stolen magic.
Creating a barrier of pure power as she’d just done without the aid of any supplies, even if only for a few seconds, would have been enough to knock Miria down for the rest of the day.
Rosmilda didn’t have to rely on her own magic so she wasn’t as affected, but she wasn’t immune to the cost.
If Miria was lucky, that hit to Rosmilda’s power would have been long enough to weaken the wards around the manor as well, allowing Miria’s reinforcements to sneak through.
“Again!” Miria called on the birds, the guards, whoever would listen.
Rosmilda was looking battered and tired as she tossed up her invisible shield once more, but this time she pushed some of that power at the guards. Several of the men went flying backward, colliding with each other and the stone walls.
Miria cast another knot. Behind her, it sounded as though the guards were finally beating down Rosmilda’s creature, and Adaline let out a small cheer.
Confident that she had the upper hand, Miria closed the distance between herself and Rosmilda as the other woman staggered to her feet.
“You would choose their side?” Rosmilda sneered. She flexed her hands, seeming distraught at how little power they commanded. “Theirs over your fellow women?”
“I chose my side,” Miria snapped. “Her side.” She pointed to Adaline.
“The side of the innocent people you’ve been harming, like my sisters.
There’s no room on your side for me. Your side benefits you, and you alone.
Just as my father’s side is for him alone.
People like you don’t care about anyone else, not even your children except as they are extensions of you and your wishes.
I should have known you and Garulf would turn on each other the moment the need arose. You would have done the same to me.”
Rosmilda grunted and reached for her magic again. “That was a mistake. Always witches have the same weakness. You were so busy protecting others, you forgot something very important. Since you’ve cut me off from drawing on others’ power, the only person left with power I can take is yours.”
“Except you can’t take magic from me.” Miria stepped closer, pressing her advantage. “Not without blood to draw it to yourself, and in this case, my brother’s and father’s won’t help you.”
“You may know more about witch magic than I do, but not about this kind of magic. With untrained children, yes. Blood is necessary. But with someone as powerful as you, someone who’s spent years strengthening her magic, even a strand of hair would do.
” Rosmilda reached into her bodice and pulled out a single strand of dark, curly hair—the strand Miria had used to protect Adaline.