Page 40 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Forty

NILSA

I nside the barrel is cramped. My whole body is contorted around Opal, who's taking the whole situation better than I am. The damned cat is happily snoozing away in the cramped confines, tiny claws digging into me in her sleep. The claustrophobic interior is made a thousand times worse by the way I spend every second battling the urge to kick my way out and find the pirates I know are so close.

Goddess, I didn't know it was possible to feel so conflicted over men. I've been so obsessed with trying to hide my disappointment ever since Glenna told me I didn't have a harem that I might have fucked up my chances with them.

I don't love them. But I want to find out if I can. The possibility of them was denied to me for so long, and now temptation is mixing with guilt over how we left things and messing with my head. My own selfish desire to fix things with the harem I never let myself hope for is at war with my duty to my goddess .

Duty has to win.

There can be no future for us unless the Eagle is killed.

Making my way through the Deadwood was damn near impossible. I hid my broom in my old rooms and snuck down into the cargo hold, using the spirit plane to keep my scent hidden. Modifying the barrel was harder than I thought it would be, but a couple of amulets later the container was perfectly camouflaged. Not even an immortal could sense me inside.

In theory, it sounded great, but fitting my five foot seven frame into the thing was awful. And the magic worked both ways. All my senses were just as useless.

So I clutched my knife with grim determination the entire time. Half of my mind consumed by the grim certainty that I'd be discovered, the other half praying to the Goddess for her intervention.

When I boarded the Deadwood, it was midmorning and the ship was just in sight of the harbour. And it takes over an hour before I feel my barrel being moved. So I force myself to wait for hours more before I attempt to sneak out of the barrel. I tense and relax my muscles in carefully memorised patterns to prevent them from cramping.

It's not until I feel the pulse of moonlight answer my prayers that I finally pop open the lid and carefully peek out.

I'm in a dark room with walls made of grim stone. Opal slips out of the gap, moving silently through the space, keeping to the shadows.

"No one's here," she reports after several tense moments. "It looks like this is just a storehouse, there are loads of barrels and crates and a lift that seems to go down... it smells like the sea. That must be how they got all the barrels in here. The only other way out I can see is through a trapdoor in the ceiling."

I unfold myself with a mental sigh of relief and carefully replace the lid of the barrel. Erasing all traces of my presence .

I've done it. I'm the first Shadow in over a century to make it past the walls.

There's no time to celebrate as I stretch out the kinks in my muscles, using the time to examine my surroundings

There are lots of shelves, but most of them are empty. The smell of damp, ash, and mildew lingers in the air, and charred blast marks are visible on the stone. The empty shelves look brand new and they're sitting on a carpet of ash and charcoal.

What happened here? It almost looks like a fire of some sort.

"Sweet Goddess,” Opal curses. "Nilsa, over here."

I follow the direction she disappeared in, only to gag as I make it past the mostly empty shelves.

It looks like a butcher's shop.

"Petra said that siren scales and fae dust weren't the only ingredients," I whisper, staring at the six bodies hanging by their ankles from hooks in the ceiling.

Mercifully, their faces are covered in black hoods, so I'm spared the sight of their death-glazed eyes. There are blades sticking out of their bodies like pincushions. Beneath each one, huge bowls slowly fill with the blood draining from the wounds.

The floor beneath is rust coloured, the red mixing with the blast marks to paint a macabre picture of death and violence.

Goddess, this is horrid. The worst kind of desecration.

"Someone's coming."

My agility sigils flare with the burn of magic just in time for me to jump up onto the top shelf.

I press myself down against the wood and send more power to the camouflage sigils on my spine just in time to watch the first glimmers of light descend from a trap door I hadn't noticed earlier .

When white robes make their way down, I shove my fist into my mouth.

A Solar.

A fucking Solar.

White robes cover every inch of her as she walks straight up to the mini abattoir and twists one of the blades.

Blood drips faster, and the body releases a moan.

Sweet lady, they're still alive?

They must be immortals. There's no way a human would be able to survive this.

"Shifters," Opal confirms, though I still can't see her. "I'm upstairs, she's obviously the one preparing the Mortal Cure. It... it only gets worse."

How could a Solar do this? They're committed to protecting life. This is the complete opposite.

I don't think this is Lily either. Her delicate face and dark skin don't match the description Petra gave me.

But there's no way to deny she's involved. It's written in the casualness with which she twists each dagger, replacing the bowls and tipping the contents into a jug.

The witch doesn't react to their moans and whispered pleas. The moment she finishes her task, she heads back upstairs.

I drop to the floor soundlessly and follow, dagger at the ready.

We emerge into a light, open laboratory. There's a cauldron hanging over a fire in one corner and shelves crammed with books and plants. The fire hovers in mid-air, a deep blue transmutation circle underneath keeping it burning without fuel or smoke. It's not too dissimilar to my own workroom, and the similarity sickens me.

One of my own kind is responsible for this.

But the Solar ignores all of those and heads straight to the workbench, grabbing a handful of something from an open crate as she passes.

I sneak a peek inside and my rage burns hotter.

Fangs. Vampire fangs. Hundreds of them all jumbled together in the crate.

No, siren scales and fae dust aren't the only ingredients in this macabre 'cure'. Shifter blood, vampire fangs, mage fire, and witch magic. It's a gruesome melting pot of immortal parts.

The blood gets tipped in the cauldron as she passes, but she drops the fangs into a mortar and pestle, and starts grinding.

That should be all the evidence I need to end her right now, but... I just can't believe a Solar is doing this willingly.

It seems impossible.

Then the door swings open.

I wedge myself behind the crate and send as much energy as I can into the camouflage sigil on my spine.

But the newcomer doesn't come into the room, they stay in the doorway.

"Are you nearly done?"

"Almost, just the fangs, crystals, and prayers to go."

They're putting crystals into it too? I grimace, thinking of how gritty and awful that's got to taste.

"Good. The new crystal delivery will be here soon." There's a long pause, followed by a sigh. "The Princess's antics set us back, but we'll catch up quickly enough. Her Majesty needs us. Here—" The Solar reaches out, snatching something from the air— "Derrick snapped these off a pirate. Apparently he's several hundred years old, so these'll be more potent than the scraps we get from the pits."

"Any chance of there being more where these came from?" The Solar seems excited as she examines whatever she just caught .

"He's been sent to the pits, so maybe. But I wouldn't get my hopes up. Are things okay down here? I've got to check everything's alright with the first batch."

"Go, I'm fine. I'll send word for you when it's ready for the final spells." There's a smile in her voice that sickens me, and she hums as she drops two more fangs into the mortar.

Fangs. From a pirate.

It takes a moment to process, during which time, the door slams shut.

I'm behind her in a blink. Red tints my vision as I summon a spirit blade and bring it arcing up in a graceful thrust.

My aim is perfect, and the blade meets her heart on the first try. The magical weapon disintegrates her body to ash before she can even scream.

It's a far quicker death than she deserves.

I can't stop looking at the fangs in the mortar. Opal hops up onto the bench and sniffs at them delicately.

"Are they Rysen's?" I ask, feeling sick.

She raises her big eyes to mine and nods. "It's his scent."

I stagger backwards. "We need to find him."

"No, we need to get to the Queen," Opal reprimands. "We're in the palace. He's in the Pits. We don't even know where the Pits are ."

All of that makes sense. Damn, I know I've got to keep going but still... "We have to do something!"

"We will," she insists. "Rysen gives the best treats, but he's an immortal vampire. He can manage an hour more while we find this bitch and send her to the Lady's judgement." She sits back on her haunches and looks at me. "Or you'll free him just to send him straight back into her clutches. Don't forget, she holds their end of a bargain."

"Then we torch this place. Free the shifters and—"

"—and give away that we're here. A missing witch is one thing, escaped prisoners and fires are another. "

I can't exactly justify leaving the shifters in that state either. "If we free them, we can tell them to take the lift and swim out."

"Fine. We free the shifters and tell them to toss the barrels into the sea while we kill the bitch. Then we come back, torch the place. As soon as we’re done, we’ll go and find your male."

I nod, sparing the pile of ash on the floor a final glance before slipping back downstairs.

The shifters are barely in any shape to escape, but I manage to help most of them onto the tiny supply lift, anyway. There's a dazedness in their eyes that tells me they probably won't remember my part in this as I all-but shove them onto the wooden platform with the barrels of scales and dust. I hate myself for rushing them, but there's a tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me that Rysen is still out there, and the more time I spend on these people, the more he suffers.

One or two of them look more cognisant than the others and it’s those shifters that I trust with tipping the barrels into the sea when the lift reaches the bottom.

When they're gone, I head back past the pile of ash and through the door from earlier.

On my way past, I snag my mate's fangs and chuck them into the fire beneath the cauldron. They hit the magic-imbued flames and disintegrate, leaving nothing but ash which floats to the floor as I once again curse the bitch who mutilated Rysen that way.

They aren't using any part of my men in their stupid potions. I'll kill them for trying.

The door leads out into a dingy passageway. There are tiny grates in the wall every few metres, and a quick glance through reveals them to be spy holes.

It doesn't take a genius to realise I'm in some kind of secret passageway. I can't hear the footsteps from whoever was in the doorway to the lab, so there's no indication which direction is the right one.

"I'll go left, you take right," I whisper. "Call me if you find anything."

Opal nods and bounds off in the opposite direction.

I take a deep breath, bury my worry for Rysen and my hatred deep down, and call on the Moon. Her steadying presence balances my emotions like nothing else can.

I run down the passageway, frowning as it starts to take on a slight incline. The circular shapes of the rooms seems to confirm I'm in the walls of some kind of tower. But most of the rooms I pass are empty.

Until there's one that isn't.

A woman dressed in black sits at her dresser and sobs. Her eyes are red and puffy, and the glare she levels at the servant who dares to enter would've sent most people running.

"Princess, Her Majesty's Alchemist has prepared your next dose," the maid curtseys deep, but the Princess doesn't notice.

"I don't want it." Her words are muffled by her hands covering her face, but the maid and I can hear her.

"Princess Amelia, you know Her Majesty doesn't like being refused." There's a pleading in the maid's tone, but the distraught woman doesn't care.

"No. I won't take it."

The maid curtseys again, but the motion is hidden by the guards bursting into the room. They head straight for the Princess and wrestle her arms behind her back. One pinches her nose and the other forces her jaw open, tipping the blood-red potion down her throat.

Her shrieks haunt me as I back away from the tiny vent.

But there's nothing I can do. No way into the room that I can see .

All my outrage will do is draw attention to me.

So I take a deep breath, swallow my guilt for the hundredth time today, and keep walking.

"The other way leads to a door to the grounds," Opal mutters, running up beside me.

"Good, I want you to take it. You go to the Blood Pits and find Rysen. Get him out of there."

I won't risk him remaining imprisoned if I fail.

"I should stay with you."

"No."

I don't often give Opal orders, and she doesn't usually listen to me when I do. She must sense I'll abandon the mission for Rysen, because she gives me an eye roll but does as I ask.

"Stay safe," she calls after me. "I'd rather not perish while hungry."

Typical cat. Everything is always about food.

I would snort if the situation wasn't so dire.

Alone again, I keep going, ignoring the rest of the rooms until I come to the first door I've seen.

The vent on this one is covered up, but I can still hear the voices drifting through.

"Auntie Catherine?"

Shit. A child.

The queen is right there, but I can't kill her in front of children.

"Yes, Ruby?"

"When will Mama be back?"

There's a long pause. "Your mother was very naughty," the words seem forced, the way they often do when an adult tries to explain death to someone too young to comprehend a true end. "That's why she's gone away for a long time."

"Is that why Auntie Amelia is so sad?" A boy's voice this time. "Because her twin went away? "

"Yes, Kyle, she'll be happy again soon. Now, our Alchemist has brought our medicine. Once we've drunk that, we can go and find your governess."

"It's in your favourite cup, Prince Kyle." The second woman's voice is closer and I recognise it from the secret laboratory. "Drink up, it'll keep you strong."

"Tastes icky, Lady Lily," the girlish voice complains, but then goes silent.

Lily. She's here.

Shit.

"Good, go on now, go with Governess Imelda." The queen commands.

The door snicks shut, just as the one beside me clicks open.

I jump into the spirit plane.

Only to slam into a wall.

I try harder, only to be rebounded with twice the force. It leaves my ears ringing and I see double for a second.

"Your Majesty!" The shout sounds muffled and the woman in white and black robes sways in my vision.

I still manage to grab her with my free hand, my blade arcing down, aiming for her neck.

"Auntie, I forgot—"

Time stills. All of us frozen in the strangest tableau.

Me, about to stab this traitor of a witch who looks at me with such shock and horror. Beyond her, the Queen is half-risen from her fireside chair, eyes burning with fury and blade already in hand. In the corner, a mage I didn't hear pushes to his feet, his eyes glowing golden with power.

But all my focus is on the tiny prince, standing in the doorway, toy train slipping from his grasp. Little eyes widening in horror.

My blade drops from my hand .

The witch whispers a spell at the same time the mage unleashes a blast of energy at me.

I send magic flaring into my protection sigils and dodge the first blast as her spell passes harmlessly over me. More magic flows into the strength sigils on my arms as I draw my empty fist back, then drive it straight into the nose of the witch.

Cartilage snaps, and she drops like a stone with a howl of pain. I step over her, then duck as another, more powerful blast shoots past me, singeing my side.

I draw another blade and glare at the mage, only to find him frantically shoving the kid out of the doorway.

Guards pour in around them, their speed giving their shifter nature away.

Damn, my side hurts, but I ignore it, heading for my target now that the child is out of the picture.

If I'm going to die here, I'm taking her with me.

The Eagle is ready for me. Her sword lunges for me at the same time that another bolt of flame attacks me from behind. I don't dare try to evade using the spirit realm, so I end up being grazed again by the sword as I try to dodge both.

I take aim at the Queen and dive under her guard.

It's a stupid move, but it pays off. I get a slice across her thigh before she flits away in a burst of vampiric speed.

Before I know what I'm doing, she's used that speed to slice a matching line across my leg.

Taunting me.

"You come here," she whispers, brows lowered in fury as she darts forward again, and I'm forced to parry with my arm at an unnatural angle. "And try to harm me in front of my nephew?"

I raise my dagger again, ready for her this time. "For the Goddess. "

A hand grabs my ankle, and I glance down to find that the witch has crawled over to me.

Heat seeps into me where she's touching, and all the magic I send into my sigils to keep her out isn't enough.

"Sleep," she whispers, the word laced with compulsion but warm with the power of Solar magic.

My world goes dark.