Witch Blood - 05

Story by Little Red Wolf on SoFurry

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There was no sound. There was no scent. Rhea leaned against a massive stone and sucked in stale air that seemed to lack nourishment. Every gasp seemed to dissipate without echoes as if the air itself was a smothering blanket.

It took a moment for the pain in her shoulder to get her attention, but when it did there was interest. Whatever they had shot her with had something awful smeared on it. Poison had already put her arm to sleep and it was spreading into her chest. I need to burn it out of me, the rational part of her brain managed to realize. I need ... to heal the wound.

The reserve of power in her body was dangerously low. The inside of her had been scrapped raw by the use of too much magic and she wanted to collapse into her bed at home and sleep for days. If I lay down and sleep I will never rise again. This thought was a temptation she had to push away from her conscious mind. Fine ... I'll do it slowly. Just a little at a time.

Dropping to her knees almost sent her into unconsciousness, but Rhea squeezed shut her eyes and forced herself to continue. Metaphysical senses probed the toxin in her blood and discovered how it operated. It's a magical sludge ... designed to feed on magic and suck the water out of me as it moves. If it continues I'll dehydrate and then turn to powder. I'll have to draw it out through my pores.

It took several minutes of slow breathing to gather what scraps of power she could find but she used it to heat her core temperature. Nothing about the process was pleasant but she was able to gather the toxin into blood covered salts and then pushed them out with her sweat. All along her skin surfaced tiny black droplets. The fever burned much hotter than it could have normally and Rhea focused on keeping that heat below the neckline. If the heat goes into my brain it will kill me. Slowly ... slowly ... keep it where it counts.

It went on until she lost track of time, black poison oozing out of her skin until she ran out of energy and toppled sideways to the ground. Sleep stalked her but she fought free. The ground was warm and she could see little gray pebbles along the brown surface. Gravel crunched and she knew she was not alone.

They followed me? How could they follow me? I'm in the bloody spirit world!

"Where's the witch?" asked a voice that was both gruff yet on the edge of panic.

"Careful," warned another, "if she's here we're on her territory."

"Where are we?" the first man asked as his voice grew more strained.

"Hells if I know," the second man replied in a more even tone. Boots ground the dirt closer to where Rhea was hiding but she could not rise to her feet. "Do you see the portal?"

"No," the first man managed to answer. "We're ... we're ... Michael, we're trapped!"

"Peace, Brother Daniel," Michael spoke with the authority of a man in charge. "The witch is around here somewhere and she will know how to get us all home."

"You would trust a witch?" Brother Daniel growled.

"I believe she wants to live," Michael said sensibly. "I would like to live too."

"But she's EVIL!" The statement hung in the air for a moment but Rhea was not interested in waiting for the situation to get worse.

Moving her head carefully, Rhea found herself laying sprawled behind a large stone. A tall pillar stood nearby and she crawled to it. Rising to her feet was still a monumental task but she walked her hands up the pillar until she was upright. It took a few more seconds for the world to stop wobbling but when it did she was able to peak around the corner and focus upon the three men standing in a group together.

"Hey witch!" the gruffest of the men barked. "We know you're out here!"

"Daniel," the man called Michael cautioned him in a softer voice.

Rhea took several deep breaths as she fumbled around for any scraps of power that she might be able to grip. The effort caused everything to lurch to one side and she tumbled to the ground. Pushing herself upright in panic brought up what was in her stomach and she vomited violently.

"That's it," she heard the older man saying and she realized strong hands were holding her steady, "get it all out of you." The world convulsed until there was nothing left to give. Then she lay there gasping with acrid breath. "Are you done?"

Rhea moaned her ascent and he helped her back into a kneeling position. It took a few more seconds for the world to stop wobbling but when it did she realized there were three men surrounding her. She recognized them from the village square. The crossbow that had fired the poisoned bolt at her was reloaded but the witch hunter was not aiming it at her. Another man held a naked blade but the third was holding her gently.

Rhea raised her harm to swat him away from her but she stopped when she saw the black and gray sludge that was coating her skin. Curiosity caused her to touch it with her fingers but it was sticky and did not want to come off. A quick glance inside of herself told her that she had gotten most of the poison out of her and the bits that remained were no longer fatal on their own. She was thirsty, and her insight told her she wouldn't last the day without a drink.

"Hey witch!" the gruffest of the men barked again. "You got a way to get us out of here?"

"Brother Daniel," Michael said firmly, "enough." The silence that followed told Rhea that the one holding her was the leader. His word was the one they would follow and so he was the one she needed to manipulate. "Here, drink." Rhea obeyed and the gruff man snarled something under his breath. The canteen's water was old but it quenched her thirst and added sand to her hourglass.

"Thank you," she whispered when she had finished.

"You're welcome, young lady," the gentleman told her.

"I'm ... Rhea," she told him unsteadily.

"Michael," he told her, "well, Rhea, do you think there is a way out of this place?" Though his words were calm and friendly, she did not miss the concern. Rhea looked around and realized they were still in the empty place with no sound. They followed me through the portal ... but then it closed. The only way out of here is if I make another. The question is, how do I survive getting them back to the physical world?

"Hard to say," Rhea lied as she stalled for time, but then she turned it into a half-truth. "I'm not sure where we are."

"Where were you trying to go?" Michael asked.

"Home," she admitted, "but I think I missed." The older man chuckled and Rhea dared to look at him. A square face with pure white hair looked upon her with steel gray eyes. Something about this man told her he was solid, steady, and completely dependable. There was something else about him she needed, though. "Are we going to help each other?"

"I've already helped you," he pointed out.

"True," Rhea admitted with a nod, "but, I don't want to die as soon as we find our way to someplace familiar."

"Hmmm," he scratched his beard, "what could we-"

"Your word," Rhea told him before he could finish.

"Excuse me?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"Give me your word of honor that you and your men won't harm me and I'll help you."

"Oh, for the love of-" Daniel cursed. "Just kill her Mike!"

"No," the older hunter said firmly. "Well, Rhea, will you believe me if I do?"

"I'll believe you," she told him in a steady tone.

Michael broke first and he began laughing. "Alright, Rhea, I swear that my men and I will not harm you as long as you get us back to the real world unharmed."

"Done," she said and the pair of them nodded.

"What?" Daniel sputtered. "How can you make a deal with her! Just look at her! All that black stuff on her skin ... she's not even human!"

"Rhea-the-Witch is now our guide," Michael told the men firmly. "We shall protect her with our lives and she shall get us home." Daniel fumed and grumbled but the third man nodded seriously and he did not speak. "Rhea, may I introduce our party to you. Daniel is the one with the temper and this silent sentinel is Peter." Peter nodded and moved his crossbow farther away from her. "He's mute but he is deadly with nearly any weapon we put into his hands. And now ... how do we get out of here?"

"Give me a moment," Rhea told him. "Let me think." Looking around at her surroundings caused a cold sweat to move across her skin. The landscape was blasted brown and red rock. The sky was a bluish-purple and there was no wind to eerily howl. "There's no life here," she concluded. "The One has claimed everything and this is all that's left."

"So?" Daniel asked rudely. "The One gets us all in the end."

"The One cannot have me," Rhea told him irritably. "I am my own."

"Heh," he chuckled darkly, "we'll see about that."

"Daniel," Michael asked as if he were suddenly confused, "would you like this young woman to show us the way home?"

"Uhm-" the younger man hesitated as his cheeks colored, "yeah."

"So would I," the older man admitted. "So, would you please keep your teeth together and let the young lady work?"

Daniel began to pout like a thundercloud and drew away from the rest of them for a time. Rhea was glad for the reprieve and she used the time to assess her options. The picnic basket was missing, but she still had her cloak and her belt-purse. What about my Athame? She wondered. I was holding it before but now ... it's gone.

She looked around her and made a show of considering options. We can try and walk out of here, but we might starve to death or die of thirst before we got anywhere. We could try to find a place of power or I could enact a ritual ... but I don't think these guys would go for that. Options ... I need options. She scratched absently at her skin and some of the dark coating on her skin became tacky and fell away. "We need to get to a high place," Rhea finally told them. "We need to see what's around here if we're going to plot a course."

"That sounds reasonable," Michael agreed and then they set off to find their way. The wasteland around them had huge boulders that were the size of cottages but none of them looked easy to climb. Rhea made a point of rubbing her hands against the rock, as they passed, rubbing off the gunk and marking their path with a fairly disgusting trail of breadcrumbs.

When they found one with smooth surfaces, the bigger men got onto their hands and knees and formed a human pyramid, with the lightest among them on top. Rhea stretched as high as she dared and saw more of the same in every direction. Anything? She thought as she kicked at her battered mind and tried to force it to cough up an idea. A stone circle? A bit of movement? A change in the light? Anything?

"Anything?" Daniel growled from his place in the pyramid. Rhea clenched her teeth, gripped the stone, and then pulled herself on top of it. The men made concerned sounds as the sudden change of weight unbalanced them and they collapsed into a heap of humanity.

The witch smiled but did not laugh. Partially, her laughter did not come because she felt too broken on the inside. Partially, she felt the witch hunters might kill her if she laughed at them. There was also a metaphysical warning within her. If this place belongs to The One then it is slowly eating us. All great old followers of The One are stoics ... as if the energy of their emotions was syphoned off over the course of their lifetimes. What if I laughed and it was devoured? What if terror could be devoured? What would happen?

A feeling of terrible cold shivered through her at the thought of it ... but it created a logical knot in her mind. Curiously, she tugged at the loose ends and stared at its pieces.

"Brother Michael?" Rhea got down on her hands and knees and peered over the edge.

"Yes?" he replied from the ground.

"Do you have another of those witch killing crossbow bolts?"

"Of course we do!" Daniel quickly answered. "So if you think you'll get away then you better think again!"

Rhea stared at the hard-faced man for a moment and then decided that the best course of action was not to respond. "May I please have one?" she asked Michael and the silent Peter. "I need to try a spell ... but I don't have the materials I need."

"So you want to use a bolt that will eat your magic?" Daniel sneered. "Are you stupid or something?"

"The bolt," Rhea half shouted as her temper began to fray, "is drawn toward magic! That's how it stops me from lighting you on fire with my brain! If you shoot it at something that has magic in it then it won't miss because it's enchanted to go towards magic! If I have one I can track the flow of magic in the area and maybe I can find us a way out!"

Brother Michael put his hand on his comrade's shoulder and the younger men grit his teeth. "Can you get us out without the bolt?"

"I don't know if I can get us out with the bolt," she admitted. "I don't have too many other ideas, though." Daniel looked like he was about to start talking but she shot him a withering look. "If you have a better idea I'm all ears."

"I just don't see why she would help us in the first place," Daniel grumbled as he fished in his quiver for the bolt. A light toss passed it up to Rhea and she caught it in her hands.

"Do you know anything about magical theory?" she asked in a tone that suggested that more was coming. When the hinter did not reply, the witch grinned at him. "Well, then, until you do, I recommend you stop proving how little you know and let the expert work."

Drawing back over the rim, she contemplated the bolt and its runes. She read them carefully, moving the various formulas through her mind until she put them all in the correct order. Fumbling through the contents of her belt pouch, she drew out a small piece of chalk. The surface of the stone took the runes without effort and she checked them twice to make sure they were all correct. Then Rhea took a glass prism out of her belt pouch, set it in the center of the circle, and then balanced the bolt on it. She then drew a circle around her work and walked around to make sure the bolt was not facing toward or directly away from her.

Alright Rhea ... it's time to find out if you're as smart as you pretend to be.

Feeding a tiny trickle of energy into the circle was much harder than she though it should have been, but she managed to get things moving. The bolt bobbed drunkenly toward the source of the magic and something in Rhea's instincts became suddenly terrified at the efficiency of the weapon that had been designed to kill someone exactly like her. When she released the spell, her magic began to defuse. The bolt rotated, following the retreating magic as something drew the power in.

That way lays the Great Devourer ... and we want nothing to do with that.

Rhea followed the point of the bolt to one side of the stone and made marks on its side. "Did it work?" Michael asked as he watched her work.

"I think so," Rhea told him. Then she used the bolt to site along the opposite direction. When she finished, she broke the circle, took the bolt, and proceeded to climb back down. Brother Michael remained kind enough to help her down and she only blushed a little bit when he looked up her dress. Of course they were probably looking up my dress earlier too. I'm sure they were all disappointed ... or maybe a woman wearing pants under my dress is just one more thing that a witch does. Can't let that go unchallenged ... I'm sure I deserve the fire after wearing pants.

"Okay, listen up," Rhea told the men, and even Daniel appeared to focus on her words. "According to the bolt, my magic is being drawn off that way." She pointed to the mark she made and then arched her finger until it was aimed at the horizon. "That means something awful is over there eating my magic. So we need to go that way." She motioned in the opposite direction. "If we get far enough away from ... whatever it is ... then I should be able to open up a stable portal. Then we step back through and see where in the heck we are."

"You have no idea if this is going to work," Daniel accused.

"Nope," Rhea told him honestly. "This is my best guess. I'm shooting my arrow at the darkness and hoping I hit something good. Are you ready?"

Michael chuckled and then motioned at his men. Peter took a deep breath and then gave his rougher companion a shrug. Then they all set out, following the young woman who was only slightly less lost than the rest of them.