The Shadow Rises by K.S. Marsden - HTML preview

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Twenty-six

Everyone was on edge as they waited for the attack.  But the short winter’s day rolled on with no sign of activity.  The soldiers and witch-hunters alike grumbled in the cold, and even Hunter began to doubt his assumption that Sophie would come for revenge, for him.

About 4 o’ clock that afternoon, the sun dropped to the misty horizon and the world was half-lit in a grey light.  Twilight.

“They’re coming.”  Hunter breathed, his hand tightening about the cold handle of his gun

There was a suffocating silence, and a gentle breeze that was oddly warm.  In the open space outside the village, figures began to appear, black and solid against the insubstantial evening.  There was a throbbing pulse of magic that raised the head of every witch-hunter.

The witches were more than fifty in number, and they bristled with excitement as they marched behind their leader, the Shadow Witch.  They came to the edge of the Astley estate and stopped, the magic of the Manor doing its work.  None could cross the invisible line without rendering themselves mortal.

In the privacy of every man and woman’s mind, a voice echoed an ultimatum.

“Surrender and your lives shall be spared.  All we demand is that you turn over Astley.  Resist and you die.”

Those inside the Manor exchanged grim looks.  They did not sacrifice one of their own, nor did they compromise with witches.  And upon feeling the hateful magic that brewed, none would trust their lives to the gathered witchkind.

Hunter gazed about the other witch-hunters that stood waiting in the hall for his signal.  Their anxious faces lit by flickering firelight - at least they were warmer than those on patrol outside.  James, Marks and twenty others, all silently relying on his questionable ability to protect them.

They might all die tonight.  But there was no backing down.

Hunter took a deep breath and nodded, no point delaying the inevitable.  The twenty fellow witch-hunters scrambled to their feet and followed him out of the warm Manor and into the cold, darkening evening.  They marched over the flat ground, directed by that inner sense that detected magic.

There was a crowd of witches awaiting them, all charged with magic and excitement.  They shifted so two opposing lines were formed, witches facing witch-hunters, just twenty feet apart, the Astley Estate border between them.  The witches outnumbered the witch-hunters three times over.

The Shadow Witch stepped forward closer to the border.  Her eyes immediately settled on Hunter.  “You have come to give yourself up?”

Her question was answered by the tensing of the line and the metallic click of several guns readying.

“No, I didn’t think you’d make it easy.”  The Shadow Witch said bitterly, a familiar frown creasing her beautiful features.  “You can’t win.  Have your men lay down their weapons and they may live.”

“Why don’t you come over here and we’ll discuss it.”  Hunter responded, stalling for time while others moved silently into position.

“I don’t think so.”  Sophie replied.  “Shall we see how the Astley protection stands up against the destructive power of the Shadow Witch?”

She raised her arms and there was the crackle of immense energy building up.  Hunter suddenly saw in a flash the ruins and rubble of Brian Lloyd’s house.

A gun discharged as one of the witch-hunters lost his nerve.

“NO!”  Hunter barked, snapping back to the present.

The witches stood unfazed, apparently protected from something as insignificant as bullets.

“You can’t win.”  Sophie repeated, her eyes unfocussed as she prepared to release her most destructive magic.

“You won’t hurt anyone.”  Hunter whispered.

With those around him in danger, he let his desire to protect grow.  It spread like a blanket over the witches and witch-hunters, regardless of borders.  The Shadow Witch either couldn’t feel it, or was too absorbed in her own spell to notice.  She smiled and released her magic…

Nothing happened.

Sophie frowned, thinking it had been the power of the enchantments of the Manor that had stopped her.  But it shouldn’t be, she had lived there for months, she knew every defence and how to overcome it.  Her eyes found Hunter again and her confusion turned to rage.

“ASTLEY!  You utter bastard.  How dare you…  You weren’t…”  Sophie spat, her anger boiling over.  “I warn you not to do this.”

“Too late.”  Hunter replied quietly.

From the darkness, lines of soldiers and witch-hunters ran forward, aimed and fired.

The gathered witches laughed scornfully as the first shots rang out - for what could harm them in the presence of the Shadow Witch?  But the laughter turned to screams of shock and fury and pain as the bullets ripped through, killing and maiming.

As one body, the witches turned to face their attackers, preparing to raise their reliable magic to destroy them.  But again nothing happened, they were defenceless against the slaughter.

Sophie span, turned from one scene of tragedy to another as her loyal witches were shot down.  They were surrounded, no escape on foot.  Sophie tried, and failed, to raise her shadows to get the survivors out.  Hunter, this was his doing.  No bullet could penetrate her seething aura as she sought him.

Hunter stood firmly on Astley ground, using his Manor’s enchantments for protection.  Everyone else had gone forward to engage the enemy.

Hunter’s eyes were open, but unseeing.  He trembled in his stance as he struggled to maintain the block.  He was starting to weaken, to slip, magic started to seep through the defences, he had to hold on.

He was vaguely aware of someone approaching.  He was unsurprised that it should be Sophie.

“You shouldn’t have told me… what I was.”  He gasped.  “Your fault.  It’s your fault.”

“Your magic shall die with you, Astley.”  Sophie spat, drawing closer, crossing the border that made her powerless.

Hunter shook his head with some difficulty.  “You can’t kill me.”

Sophie hesitated.  “Don’t be so sure.”

There was a flash of metal and movement.  Hunter couldn’t move fast enough to block the knife that drove into his torso.  It felt cold, he realised, before the pain came.

He looked into Sophie’s eyes, so close to his, and saw that her anger was gone, replaced by shock that drained the blood from her face.

Hunter felt the protective magic slip and fade, and he crumpled to the ground.

There was more gunfire, closer now.  People continued to scream, but now others were calling his name.

It all grew fainter.

‘What do you know, I was wrong.’  He thought.

Then the world disappeared.