Chapter 090 - Strega:

Anton watched Cetina scratch at the cloth covering her eye as they exited Cassius’s mansion. The heavy iron gate closed with a heavy thunk. Cassius’s guards watched them in silence. The meeting had been a success, in so far that Cassius did hate or want them dead and now they had a writ for a large ship, The Snowberry. He hoped it would be enough to hold a fair few people, Beast-kin rather.

But right now there was something more pressing to deal with.

“Cetina.” Anton began, Cetina’s head snapped to him. “Where…Where is your father.”

Cetina winced. She took a deep breath and looked to the east. “Over there. There’s a large barn that my…Father bought. If he’s still there.”

“We’ll get through this.” Verona patted Cetina’s arm.

Cetina smiled weakly and began walking away. They followed closely behind. As they began to enter the bustle of the streets Kal moved to Anton’s side and held his arm.

“What was that you said about the green smoke?” Kal whispered.

Anton looked forward. Cetina had not seemingly heard. “It felt exactly the same as I found before, just a lot more of it. Whatever affected…her family also affected Cassius. It would explain something.”

“Cassius seemed pretty normal to me,” Verona said. “Was that bad cough from the green smoke?”

“Don’t think so. That disappeared with the first prayer. But, remember that story the mercs told about the Civil war?”

Both nodded. “It was a pretty bad story.” Kal held his arm as the crowds continued to grow. “To kill yourself like that…”

“And to be separated from someone you love and…assaulted by some creep,” Verona grumbled and shook her head.

“Yes. But Cassius and this Lord Umbris were willing to go to war over it and would have won, if they hadn’t stopped, for some reason. The same time he started getting those headaches. I think you can guess why.”

Both nodded.

“I can see why someone would want to stop a war that the Emperor would lose, but why…others?”

“No idea. But we’re going to find out.”

They travelled as fast as they could through the city streets. Cetina’s frame continued to grow more apprehensive, and more than once she stopped and had to be ushered forward. In the brief moments he saw her face it was drenched in fear. No one should have to confront their father about something like this.

Finally, Cetina stopped. They stood in front of a large warehouse, conjoined with a large multi-storey house, with a dozen armoured men and women standing out the front. These were dressed in the bright and slightly flamboyant colours of Bebbezzar. While Anton did not know any by name he recognised their faces from their journey to Porswea.

“I…”

“We’re right here with you,” Anton said.

Cetina looked like she wanted to bolt but she held her ground. The Bebbezzar guards slowly looked towards them, all in unison and without any emotion. Dread rose through Anton’s spine as they looked at them.

“Okay.”

Cetina took a single step and stopped. She could go no further without help. Verona and Kal gently pushed her from behind and she started walking again. The guards slowly formed a wall as they approached, their feet moved in perfect unison. They really were like dolls.

They stopped when they were a few meters away. Cetina’s hand gripped the pommel of her sword hard, the guards remained motionless.

“Where is my father?” Cetina’s voice wavered. “Where is he?”

“Not…Here.” One replied. His voice was slow and calculated, but none of Anton’s memory held a guard that spoke like that.

“Where is he?”

“Not…Here.”

“Why did you treat her like shit all these years?” Anton asked.

Cetina glanced back, tears welled in her good eye and her cloth ribbon was wet in the corners. The guards looked at him.

“No.” was all the guard could say.

“What does that fucking mean?”

The guards remained motionless, even as Anton waved his hands about. “Alright. This is getting us nowhere. How about you lot get out of our way and let us in? Or is that too difficult for whatever’s going on in your head?”

“No.”

Cetina’s back shivered. “I’ve fucking had enough you fucking shits treating me like a fucking animal!” She drew her sword. “Now, get out of my way and let me see my dad!”

“Fuck yes,” Verona whispered to Anton. “I might need some.”

Anton offered his hand as Verona drew up some blood. Kal readied her bow and a normal arrow.

No guard moved despite the threat present to them.

“Fuck it.” Cetina advanced as the guards finally drew their weapons. All held their weapons at the same level. “Get the fuck out of my way!”

The guards did not move. Cetina advanced as their swords were pointed towards her. She pushed forward but received a strike from a guard. Cetina stepped back, dodged the strike and swung her own sword down, striking the guard’s wrist. Her sword sliced cleanly through the unprotected flesh and cleanly severed it. She gasped, her hand shook, as she hurriedly stepped back.

“I…I didn’t mean to.” She stammered out but her voice trailed off sharply.

The guard’s stump was not bleeding. Cetina glanced at her sword, it was completely clean, as was the severed hand. Out of the stump and hand, a thick green smoke slowly leaked out. The guard looked down, dropped his shield, and picked up the severed hand. A flicker of recognition flashed over his face before he tried to force the hand back onto his stump. The green smoke mixed and knitted together. When he let go the hand remained attached. He flexed his hand as smoke continued to leak from the wound. The guards looked at the wound before focusing on Cetina. For the first time, they had an actual emotion. Anger.

“This might go badly,” Anton said quietly to Cetina.

Cetina violently shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on. But I don’t really care about them. I never have. I only want my father back.”

Kal loosed an arrow into a guard. It struck an exposed section between armour plates on her shoulder, but she barely recognised the injury. Anton released a lightning bolt into the leg of a guard. It blew the leg clean off. The guard tried to advance but stumbled forward as she continued to walk without a leg to provide support. She dropped her weapons and armour before reaching for her severed leg. Anton loosed another blast into her crawling body, only strong enough to stun, and she fell still for a moment. Another moment passed and she began to move again.

“Nice try,” Verona grumbled. “But I don’t think there’s a good way out of this way.”

She formed her blood into small daggers and threw them at the guards, all finding a hit. However, no blood came forth, even when piercing their necks, and Verona was forced to withdraw her shards. Kal loosed an arrow into a guard’s head, knocking him flat.

The guards advanced quickly now they knew they were under attack. Every step was made in perfect unison as they advanced. Cetina looked at them and charged. Anton released lightning bolts, Kal as many arrows as she could fire and Verona advanced with her shards flying through the guards. Anton directed his lightning bolts towards the guards in front of Cetina. They blasted into their shields, knocking them free, as Cetina smashed through them with her dented tower shield raised high. With her strength and speed she smashed through the single line and continued through. She did not look back once and ran into the warehouse.

Anton fired more lightning bolts and together they dispatched the remaining guards in short order. While they could take several good hits in the body and limbs they could not handle head injuries or decapitation. Everything else they shrugged off or simply reattached their limbs with the thick green smoke emanating from each wound. Their strength and manner of death reminded him of something from Earth.

He downed another mana vial and knelt beside a headless corpse, Verona approached with her few shards hovering above her head while Kal had her bow nocked and ready. The body was cold to the touch and the wound, after waving away the green smoke, was dried and grey.

“That would explain why you couldn’t get any blood from them,” Anton said to Verona as he stood back up. “They’re dead and decayed.”

“And that smoke was keeping them moving?”

Anton nodded. “I bet these will decay now the magic is gone.”

He had no idea where Cetina was but they could not just leave her alone. Just as he waved them forward the unmistakable sound of metal boots striking stone came from behind. Anton sighed. Someone would have heard the battle and called the local forces. As he glanced at the sound his groan grew even louder. Thirty well-armed city watch members ran towards them, many with shields and several with large crossbows, with a man Anton recognised leading the group.

The Captain shook his head as he approached. “How many fucking times do I have to run into you three? What have I done wrong?”

One of his fellows grabbed his arm harshly and pointed towards the corpses lying behind them.

“And what is this?”

Anton opened his mouth to explain when the sound of snapping wood came from above. Cetina flew out of the second story through a wooden slat window back first, only her sword in her hand, crashing and skidding along the ground. She was furious as she stood back up.

No one said a word as they looked to the destroyed window. A woman moved to the window and looked out. It was Sancha, Cetina’s step-sister. Green smoke leaked from numerous wounds on her arms and hands as she looked out. Her eyes focused on Cetina, struggling to get back up, then flickered to them. Her face paled as she disappeared from view.

Verona raced to Cetina and helped her up. She was shaky on her feet but not because of an injury. She was just that angry. Kal moved beside him and readied a lightning arrow and readied. A few seconds passed before they heard movement from the window. Sancha raced past but Eluria stopped at the window and scowled at everyone beneath her. Unlike Sancha she did not have green smoke emanating from her wounds, rather a green halo spun around her hand and wrists.

“Fucking bitch.” The captain yelled. He looked to his crossbowmen. “Fire!”

They hesitated for a moment before firing their volley. Eluria darted out of the way as the bolts smashed into the wall behind her. Anton swore he saw a flash of green from one bolt.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say there were Strega’s here?” He demanded as he approached.

“I have no idea what those are,” Anton answered.

The Captain swore as he drew his sword and stabbed the corpses. Tiny wisps of green smoke leaked from the fresh wounds. “Fucking witches is what they are. They haven’t gone yet. Not with all this residue still leaking out of the bodies.”

“Right…” Anton waved Verona and Cetina to them as the city watch scanned every possible nook and cranny for Eluria and Sancha.

Anton downed another vial and gave one to Kal. As he felt mana flow back into his body two figures approached from the warehouse’s open doors. Both women approached with an unbearably smug look on their faces, while the green smoke swirled around their heads and wrists.

Eluria chuckled, sickly sweet, and shook her head. “I thought I told you, whore, to never come back. You would have been so much happier with your new pimp.”

Cetina snapped and howled with rage, charging towards her with every ounce of strength she could muster. Eluria chuckled and waved her hand. The coiled green smoke darted from her wrist and shot forth like a snake, striking Cetina in the chest and throwing her into the wooden wall of the warehouse. She shouted and fell limp to the ground. Eluria and Sancha smiled at each other then looked to Anton.

“We didn’t think we would see you again.” Eluria’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I-”

“Is Duran still alive?” Anton interrupted her.

Eluria’s brow twitched. “For now he is-”

“Good.”

Anton threw a small lightning bolt at Sancha. Her eyes widened ever so lightly as the bolt exploded in front of her face. A swirling mass of smoke swirled around her face. A good portion of the smoke had been burned black but slowly regained its original lustre. She looked to Eluria who held total and utter contempt on her face.

“I told you to always be careful. These aren’t peasants.”

“Sorry mother,” Sancha mumbled. “I’ll be more-”

Anton was not going to wait for their conversation to finish. He threw five lightning bolts and a fireball at Sancha, Kal loosed her lightning arrow at Eluria. Both threw up their hands as their attacks collided with the smoke. Blinding flashes and a large burst of flame erupted upon contact. The green smoke had been burned and charred deeply and very slowly recovered. Eluria and Sancha frowned at one another.

“You’re pretty good for a novice.” Eluria chuckled. “If you actually had a teacher you probably could be pretty dangerous.”

Kal drew another arrow and began whispering a prayer. Anton did not want them to hear her.

“What are you two anyway? They called you Strega witches.”

Eluria and Sancha chuckled. “Oh, that brings back some memories. We haven’t been called that for…I can’t even remember. But-”

“Now,” Kal whispered.

Anton released another barrage of lightning, only for the green smoke to block it again. Kal loosed her arrow into the mass, and a scream erupted. When the smoke cleared an arrow jutted out from Sancha’s chest, right over her heart. She looked terrified but more importantly, she was not going down.

Eluria clicked her tongue and ripped the arrow from her daughter’s chest. The arrow was tipped with blood.

“I told you.” Eluria slapped her hard. “To be careful.”

“Sorry.” Sancha whimpered.

Eluria’s eyes snapped up as blood shards collided with the smoke. Despite her best efforts, Verona was slowly pushing them forward. The strain on Verona’s face was palpable.

“What are you waiting for?” The captain yelled. “Fire!”

The crossbowmen fired at the two, a near dozen heavy bolts smashing into the green smoke. However there was only so much smoke they could use and a few bolts made it through, the sickening sound of stricken flesh filled the air.

Anton fired more lightning bolts and Kal another lightning arrow. They too exploded upon contact but the amount of smoke was becoming less and less.

“Fire again!”

As the crossbowmen furiously reloaded Eluria waved her hand and Verona’s blood shards flew away, much to her surprise.

“You aren’t nearly strong enough you little bitch.” Eluria snapped. “You-”

Eluria screamed and clutched at her foot. A dark red crystal protruded through her foot and had dug back into the ground, locking her into place. Anton had not seen the shard travel through the air. The dirt around her foot had buckled and cracked open. A large hole had opened behind Verona’s foot.

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Verona smiled at Anton. “Something I’ve been thinking about.”

He would have to ask later. Without waiting another wave of attacks flew forth, now most of the smoke was gone or holding Verona’s remaining shards in one place, and those were struggling. The shards bucked and writhed wildly as they tried to cast of the green smoke.

“Fuck you all.” Eluria spat out. “You’re all beneath us. I am stronger than anyone here, even you.” She looked straight at Anton. “Abomination.”

For a moment it gave Anton pause. That was the exact word Nithroel used to describe him. Eluria took the opportunity and threw a mass of smoke at Anton. He fired bolts at the mass but it was not enough and, without knowing any protection magic, the mass smashed into his chest. Pain screamed and tore through his body as felt, and heard, something snapping in his chest. A lot of things snapping. His inability to breathe was the least of his problems as he fell backwards. His hands desperately, shaking violently, clawed at his chest as the pain threatened to send his mind into the abyss.

Fuck! Tethra, fix this!

It was not so much a prayer as a mental cry, as his mouth was only emitting a continuous pathetic scream. The prayer worked, probably with considerable leeway from Tethra, and his breath returned to normal. He looked up and saw Kal loose another arrow, her masked face darting between him and their target, Verona held his shoulder and pulled him up.

Eluria hissed as he pulled himself back up.

Alright, now I’m pissed.

“You’re going to pay with your lives for that,” Verona spoke calmly and softly as she stood back up.

She still had her blood crystal embedded into Eluria’s foot. With a single flick of her hand, the crystal exploded, sending fragments of crystallised blood and foot in all directions. Eluria shrieked as she fell over. A hand had to choose between falling down or defending against a lightning arrow. She chose the latter and crashed into the ground. This time the lightning arrow threw off dozens of sparks that scorched the ground and her. Sancha raced to her side and helped her up.

Anton threw another volley of lightning bolts that cleared all but two of the free small clouds of smoke. Verona collected the foots’ blood and smashed it into Eluria’s stump. The blood crystal rippled underneath her skin and began to expand and tear, flaying her from the inside out.

“Fuck you!” Eluria screamed.

Both Eluria and Sancha popped something out of their sleeves, something that looked like a small pellet, and bit down before they could be stopped. The smoke glowed bright and appeared to expand. Another volley of bolts flew past but was deflected by a stream of smoke.

“Don’t think this is over-” Eluria was stopped by another volley of fireballs and the pain from Verona’s internal flaying blood. “I’ll find where you fuckers live and that’ll be the end of you!”

That very thought boiled Anton’s blood. The ground beneath them began to glow green, a circular marking grew beneath their bodies. It reminded him of how Nithroel disappeared in the God’s realm. They were trying to escape. Probably. Either that or trying to attack. They had survived because Eluria and Sancha had not had a serious chance to attack yet, and he was not going to give them that chance.

He put nearly everything he had left into a single lightning bolt. It struck the green smoke hard, obliterating most, leaving just a few wisps for defence. Their eyes were filled with panic as the crossbowmen and Kal loosed another volley and Verona flung the remaining shards towards them, despite being encased in smoke, landing a few centimetres from their faces. The shards began to break down into tiny fragments and crawl over one another towards them.

The markings grew in intensity and they smiled. Sancha rose up and deflected a fire arrow to the face.

“I’ll see you burn.” Sancha looked directly at Verona. “I haven't forgotten what you did!”

“Because you had Virgil’s jizz on your hair?” Anton teased.

Sancha flushed red, even more vividly than before, and raised her hand. A swirl of smoke coiled in her hand as she coughed blood. Eluria glanced up as something silver passed through Sancha’s neck. Cetina’s sword pierced Sancha’s neck and collided with her spasming, sending them both out of the glowing circle. Cetina barred her teeth as she cut her sword free with all her might, a mighty spurt of blood and sinew thrown loose as they crashed a meter from the circle. The green smoke faded from her body away as Eluria screamed for her daughter.

Both circles flashed bright and Eluria was gone.

“Fuck.” Anton gasped as he stood up. “Bitch got away.”

“Are you alright?” Verona dropped her spear and hugged him tight, pulling him down so she could look into his eyes.

She deactivated her power, her red eyes that close was a little unsettling, and feverishly rubbed his face. After seeing he was fine, as well as someone could be after having their chest crushed, she kissed him deeply. It lasted only for a second or two but it bristled with love and emotion. When she parted she was not red but looked incredibly worried.

“For a moment I thought that was it.”

“It’s not over yet,” Kal said quietly.

Sancha, somehow, despite suffering a clearly fatal wound, writhed on the ground. Cetina hauled herself up and grabbed her sword. She thrust it into Sancha’s side, blood poured out with wisps of green smoke, before pulling up and spilling her guts. Sancha gargled in blood as one hand clenched her ravaged throat while the other flayed at Cetina.

Cetina stood up, impaling her sword into Sancha’s crotch as support, as her face become void of emotion. She looked at Sancha the way someone would look at a bug beneath their feet. She wrenched the sword free with another fountain of blood and plunged it over and over into her chest. With every strike, Sancha’s struggle became weaker until she could barely move. The last wisps of her magic began to fade away. Cetina thrust one last time before moving to her head. She drew a short dagger, slashed at a final swat and stabbed her in the eye.

No one spoke a word, perhaps too afraid, as they watched Cetina’s silent rage unfold.

Cetina thrust both hands into her mouth and wrenched it open snapping bone and teeth apart. With a mighty heave, she ripped the head free before smashing the head into the ground over and over, her face still void of emotion. Blood, bone and teeth splashed her face until there was nothing left to hold. Until it leaked through her hands.

Slowly they approached the still and silent Cetina, her gloves dripping with blood and brain matter.

“Cetina?” Anton asked softly.

Her head snapped towards them. Emotion returned as she glanced between them. She looked at her hands and what remained of her step-sister.

“I…” she looked towards the warehouse. “Dad!”

She ran into the warehouse, a hobble to her step as blood trailed behind her.

“Go after her.” Anton patted Kal and Verona. “I’ll catch up in a moment. My lungs still are recovering.”

Both girls nodded and ran after Cetina. A moment later the Captain and his men approached Anton. Each held a look of utter shock. After witnessing Cetina’s rage that was understandable.

“Have you got this place under control now?” Anton asked the captain.

The captain slowly nodded, staring at Sancha’s headless and mutilated corpse. “Yeah…Yeah.” He shook his head. “Yes. The…The Strega Witches are gone…or dead. The smoke has left their corpses, so they’re gone now.”

“One’s still alive. Any idea where they go?”

“No.”

“But you knew what they were the moment you saw them.”

“Yes. I’ve fought them before.”

“I’d-”

“Wait!” Verona cried out from above. She ran past the broken wooden slat window with Kal in tow.

“We’ll be back,” Anton told the city watch. As he ran, as fast as he could, towards the warehouse they looked on confused at the scene of carnage around them.

The inside of the warehouse was filled with crates and barrels. He presumed the barrels were filled with alcohol while he had no clue what the crates contained. But there were hundreds of them. He was almost tempted to have a look but the thunderous sounds of boots kept him moving. Cetina’s blood trail left a clear guide through the cramped building. Crate after crate littered the halls with the occasional bloody handprint. He began closing on the sound of running boots, Cetina’s increasingly desperate cries for her father and Verona telling her to slow down when he heard an ear-piercing shriek. In his heart, he knew what it was.

He passed a corner and saw Cetina white with fear, her body shaking as she collapsed against the wall. Kal tried to pull Cetina away while Verona looked into the room, her face equally filled with shock. Cetina was an unintelligible wreck as he approached. He stopped in front of her and pulled her up, even with Kal’s help she was very heavy as all strength had left her form. Her lips quivered while her iris’s had constricted to pin-pricks. Verona had not said a word or even moved.

“Verona?” Anton said without looking back. “Verona?!”

“Yeah?” her voice was weak and distant.

“Take her and get out of the building. Now!”

Verona turned and grabbed Cetina’s arm and pulled her away. Both girls were enough to pull Cetina away as she burst into uncontrollable tears. Her body collapsed, her cries devolving into wails as they essentially dragged her away. Kal looked back but he had no idea what she was thinking. A large part, an increasingly large part did not want to turn around. When he did his legs felt weak and a tiny bit of bile rose to the back of his throat.

The room behind him was a bedroom, a very well furnished bedroom. Duran lay naked on the bed. His hands were tied to the posts, something that could have been considered kinky if he was not covered in blood. Naked was the wrong word; the very flesh on his chest had cut away down to the bone, his legs had been broken in numerous locations and his genitals had been removed, quite forcefully so. Anton retched at the sight, doubly so when he saw the chest was still moving.

He downed two of the remaining mana vials and approached Duran. His eyes were wild but he was still alive, for now at least.

“Fucking hell,” Anton mumbled as he approached.

Duran’s eyes shot towards him. At first, they were drenched with fear but quickly faded to relief.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix you right now.” Anton lay his hand on his arm. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal every injury Duran has suffered. Heal him back to his prime.”

Nearly all his magic flowed out but something was wrong. Nothing had healed, perhaps the blood had stopped flowing so quickly, but he should be better. He had no idea what was happening. Duran did not have Cetina’s natural immunity. Anton used what mana he had left and begun searching through his body with the prayer power. While Cetina and Cassius simply had smoke swirling around their brain Duran had hundreds of condensed spikes emanating from every wound on his body. Anton shouted in pain as he tried to brush them away. Every touch produced immense pain, for him and Duran.

Anton grunted and downed the last mana vial and tried brushing away the solid smoke. It was not enough and Duran screamed in pain with each attempt. Tears of pain trailed down Anton’s eyes before he had to stop. He would kill Duran long before he could fix him.

“Fine. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, remove the magic that infests Duran.”

Again magic left him. Duran groaned and coughed up a mouthful of blood. Anton had no idea if it worked and searched his body again. It had not worked. The spikes remained, if but a little dulled. For the first time, Anton felt truly helpless. If he knew nothing of magic, only what he had stumbled into. And everything he knew meant nothing against something as advanced and intricate as this. Even with his magical reserves, he could not reverse what was slowly unravelling before him and he doubted Kal would be able to fix this, even if she was far better at using the prayer power than him. There could be a prayer to fix it but he didn’t know enough about it. He cursed his lack of knowledge.

Anton patted Duran’s shoulder. “Hold on a bit longer. I’ll get Kal up here. She might have enough strength to beat this.”

Duran shook his head. “No…I can’t…It hurts so much.” He coughed up more blood. “I loved them…and they…ripped my soul apart.” He shook his head. “I can’t…”

“You’ve still got to make amends to your daughter. Your real daughter, the one that loved you all this time. So don’t give up just yet.”

Anton ran out the room and looked out the nearest window overlooking the warehouse. Verona and Kal had Cetina sit on the ground while she bawled her heart out. The city watch looked on while a small crowd began to gather. With a quick glance up the streets, he saw hundreds slowly approaching. At least they looked like people and not reanimated corpses.

“Kal!” he yelled out. “I need you up here immediately.” Kal looked up and nodded, patting Verona’s shoulder and running into the warehouse.

“City Watch Captain!” The man looked up at Anton. “Get it under control. You’ve got hundreds of people coming and who knows what’s going to happen. Do your job!”

He looked back and jumped in surprise. Seeing something he could do he rallied his fellows and formed a perimeter.

Anton ran back to the room but Duran had already taken a turn for the worse. His eyes were shaking, his skin sweating profusely and his hands shook violently. Despite the death rattles beginning to overcome him, he whispered something over and over.

“They didn’t find it.” Anton heard when he leant in. “They didn’t find it.” There was almost a laugh in his hoarse voice.

“Didn’t find what?”

Anton’s words coaxed some life from Duran. His eyes darted towards a small innocuous chest in the corner.

“I…held my oath,” Duran whispered again. “Is that not enough?”

Anton did not know how much of his words were mad ramblings or were the truth. He ignored Duran’s increasingly deranged and nonsensical words and began to remove the bindings on his hands. When he had removed the first Kal arrived. She was out of breath or disturbed by what lay before her. Probably both.

Kal raised her mask, her face drenched with sweat, and turned to Anton. “What happened to him?”

“Those two happened. I’ve tried to heal him but it’s not working. Something’s blocking my magic and I don’t know what. You might have better luck.”

Kal gulped, lowered her mask and moved to Duran. Thankfully his rapidly twitching eyes had not seen Kal’s face. If he had he might not want to have been saved by a Beast-kin. Anton had no idea how far Duran’s convictions lay.

“You can do this Kal. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal Duran no matter what magic tries to interfere.”

Kal yelped in pain before she wobbled and grasped at the bed to steady herself. Duran howled in pain but nothing had been healed.

“I…I don’t understand! It should have worked. It always works!” Kal was nearing hysterics herself.

“Those witches must have done something to block magic.” Anton freed Duran’s last wrist. “And I have no fucking idea how to undo it. Using magic just causes pain and wastes mana…I don’t know what to do. I don’t anything about their magic either…”

Kal whimpered and gently held onto Duran’s shoulder.

The death rattles grew worse. “My foolish brother. He’ll lose his but I kept mine hidden. Hidden. Hidden. No matter what they did I didn’t talk…They will never have them. Can…Can I rest now?”

He glanced to the side as the shakes ceased and his head fell limp. His breathing stopped and his chest remained still. Anton moved his hand under Duran’s nose, there was nothing.

“Shit,” Kal mumbled. Her shoulders drooped and she lowered her head.

Anton sighed. “Poor Cetina.” He patted Duran’s arm. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.”

“What do we do now?” Kal asked. “We can’t leave him like this…”

“No…No we can’t.” Anton turned to one of the cupboards and found a large sheet. It felt perhaps a little disrespectful to simply throw a sheet over him but it was all they could do right now. The moment the sheet touched his skin it turned red and blotchy. Anton sighed again.

“I barely saw it when I came up.” Kal shook her head. “But Cetina saw this. How do we explain it to her?”

“I…I have no idea.” Anton had never had to deal with something like this.

He looked around the room, perhaps just to distract him for a second. His eyes landed on the small chest that Duran had feverishly looked towards. The chest was very heavy and well made. Kal raised her mask and looked oddly at him.

“I’m not robbing him.”

“Good.”

Anton moved the chest to the centre of the room and opened it. There was no lock and the metal hinges were well maintained. The moment he opened it his eyes sparkled. Jewels. Hundreds of them. Far more than Anton had seen before. He picked up a clear jewel. It looked like a diamond, the size of a small peach seed. The wealth contained within the small chest…

“I guess this is Cetina’s now…” Anton grumbled as he began pulling out the jewels.

“Why did they come this far if they had so much money?” Kal asked.

“None of this makes sense. Did they lie about how much money they had and dressed relatively poor? Did those two Strega Witches get this while they were here to fund…whatever it was they were doing? I honestly have no idea. But Duran kept looking at this. And, as sad as it sounds, I don’t think they were intended for Cetina.”

Kal grumbled but agreed with him. They continued to pull out gem after gem before reaching a layer of golden necklaces beneath. This chest contained a literal fortune and, with the diamonds and other jewels, probably more wealth than Atros had.

With everything removed Anton began searching through the necklaces for anything. Anything. He used what meagre mana he had left to try and find something hidden in them, something that the deluded Duran had been hinting at. He was finding nothing.

Kal sighed and looked into the chest, a frown forming on her face. She picked up the chest and looked along its bottom before placing it back down. As she shook it side to side the frown deepened. Without saying a word she drew a dagger and drove it into the corner. With a tiny grunt, a wooden panel came loose. Beneath lay something dull and grey.

“The chest is too shallow,” Kal explained. “And they used the same wood everywhere else so it doesn’t make sense they tripled the thickness on the bottom. And there was this tiny rattle when I moved it...”

She pried the pieces of wood and retrieved a small iron box. It was very small and thin but masterfully built with a tiny seam running around the edge. The outside was incredibly smooth to the touch without a single mark or blemish, even the seam was barely noticeable. On one end he saw a tiny hole, a keyhole.

“Is there a key in there?” Anton asked.

Kal rummaged around and shook the crate. “Nothing…Though it doesn’t make sense to have a key in the same place that you hid something so carefully.”

“True…Let’s see if I’ve got enough mana to open this thing.” He placed his hand on the lock. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, unlock this…lock.”

Mana left him, what little he had left, causing his breath to become ragged and harsh. The room spun for a moment but Kal held him steady. He held her hand tight until the room returned to normal. When he looked down the box had not opened. He tried to pull it open, Kal tried to pry it open, but it would not budge.

Kal frowned and held her hand on the box. “I tried doing what you do, pushing the magic through it, and I can’t. It’s like my magic just can’t enter it. Not like…Duran.”

Anton gently took the box. He held it up to the light and saw something. When the angle of the light was just right, nearly running along it, he saw strange hexagonal marks running along the exterior. He recognised the pattern.

“Ghlyirl,” Anton said with dejection. “The box appears to be made from the stuff. At least that explains why our magic didn’t work on it.”

“I’ve seen too much of that stuff already.” Kal rose to her feet and slowly helped Anton up. “But that wasn’t what Duran had?”

“No. I don’t know what he had. We really need to find a teacher.” He sighed as he looked at the metal box in his hands. “Time to break the bad news…”

When they emerged from the warehouse a small crowd had gathered. The city watch were doing their best to keep them at bay and several more city watch members were forcing their way through the crowds to help their colleagues. To the side, on the ground, sat Cetina and Verona. Verona tried her best to comfort Cetina but she was struggling. Cetina’s face had turned deathly white, tears and snot ran down her face while a puddle of sick lay in front of her. Her body shuddered as she held herself in a ball while Verona held one shoulder and gently rubbed her back.

Verona was the first to notice them and looked expectantly. When she saw their faces that look faded. Cetina glanced at Verona, she saw the look on her face, then looked to them. She was almost pleading with her eye as she desperately searched theirs. But he would not lie. When he shook his head she completely broke down. The wail was unintelligible as she clawed at her hair with all her might. The blood matted with her hair while her boots smashed into the ground.

The city watch looked back at the new sound, quickly realised what it was, and looked back to the crowd.

Verona tried to pry Cetina’s hands off her head, lest she rip her hair free, and flashed them a look for help. Anton thought that he was probably the last person she would want to see so he patted Kal gently. Kal nodded and rushed to Cetina’s side. Slowly they were able to calm Cetina until she was just crying uncontrollably, the tears pouring down her face until her throat was hoarse. Her body shook as her gloved fingers clawed at her face.

The Captain slowly approached Anton, stepping clear of the bodies. “What did you find?” he asked very quietly.

Anton moved to the base of the building, out of earshot of Cetina, and the Captain followed. “Her father, dead.”

The Captain shook his head as he looked at the still shivering Cetina. Her body lurched forward, Verona and Kal pushed her forward and allowed her to be sick. Virtually nothing other than a thin strand of spit came out of her mouth before she collapsed against the wall and continued to cry.

“What are these Strega Witches?”

“I don’t know that much, but what I do know is that they are very dangerous…As you’ve seen yourself. They lurk in the distant forests and marshes, selling ancient and foul trinkets and magical artefacts to those willing to brave the dangers. And willing to pay their price. They also like to meddle with the affairs of others. That’s all I really know, other than a decree from the Emperor to kill them on sight, and to be on watch for their green magic.”

“I see.”

“But you managed to kill one. No small feat, from what I hear.”

Anton nodded and looked at Sancha’s headless corpse. They did not look like witches, as he understood them, but these two were definitely evil. Definitely up to something. The box in his hand felt heavy, as did the knowledge that he knew nothing of the games being played around him. Games that extended between nations. What connection did they have; Duran, the hidden Ghlyirl box, Cassius…maybe even the Demons themselves. Who knew the truth?

The world was only becoming more complicated.