The characteristic black-on-black eyes of the monsterfolk gave even the average day-dweller excellent night vision. They absorbed every ray of light, no matter how weak, a fact Hunter was now cursing. Picking his way carefully between the smouldering pyres, he felt he’d rather be struck blind than have to witness all this pointless death. He knew he’d be seeing it in his dreams for far too long.

It wasn’t just the charred bodies tied on the stakes. All around him was the smell of death. The wet ground squelched beneath his feet, despite there not having been a drop of rain for days. Many had died here, not all of them witches. They must have taken a deadly toll on the humans who had attacked them, and there was not a whit of doubt in Hunter’s mind that it was humans, despite the lack of bodies. He could taste the iron in the air from their spilt blood.

There was a dry patch of earth nearby that would have to serve as a graveyard. Without tools or adequate light, it was going to take him all night to bury the dead, but by the Deer Lord he was going to do it. Witch or human, nobody deserved to die like this. He let some of his anger seep out, just enough to poke the bear. His hands thickened and toughened as the nails extended to claws.

“Hey, Hunt…”

“Yeh?” He dropped to his knees and started digging into the dirt. Good soil it was too, a dark loam enriched by generations of wise and loving farmers carefully cycling their crops, dutifully feeding their charcoaled waste cuttings back into the earth. A damn shame, he thought. Nothing would ever grow here again, not under the weight of so much grief and hate.

“Hunt…”

“What?” He looked up at Saturnii hovering above him, then looked past her as his eye caught a flickering purple light circling high above the field. A woman’s voice cried out somewhere in the darkness, burning with furious, violent intent. “Shit…oooh shit. Sat, can you get us out of…”

A falling star struck the ground barely ten feet in front of him. The impact tore the earth apart, sending clumps of soot and soil flying in all directions and blowing Hunter off his feet. He landed awkwardly, trying to tuck and roll but mostly just bouncing and skidding until he came to halt.

His ears rang from the concussive force of the blast. There were voices shouting, impossible for him to decipher but there was no mistaking the tones of bloody murder. He pushed himself up onto one knee, just in time to see a giant black horse charging at him, ablaze with unnatural fire.

Hunter had barely enough time to blink before it was on top of him. His clumsy attempt to roll out of the way saved him from being outright flattened, but he still felt a burning hoof strike him hard in the back with an audible snap. His roll turned into a flop as he gasped in agony, laid out on his back with what was likely three or four broken ribs.

He tried to sit up. Hot pained shot through him and he nearly blacked out. Knowing his options were quickly running out, he took one long, deep breath, and gave himself over to the bear.

* * *

Ignivolus’s second charge faltered as he was faced with a creature suddenly twice the size of what he’d expected. Where had been a prone, defenceless man was now a bear, almost equal in height to his own impressive eighteen hands despite the snarling beast standing on all fours.

Agrathea dismounted as the bear raised itself onto its hind legs and roared. The ear-splitting bellow was nothing like a natural bear might make. There were words in it, words that only another monster would understand. Leave me, it said. I am not the one you seek. We weep together.

She was, unfortunately, beyond the point of reason. She heard the bear’s words, but she did not care. The crows wanted blood, and they would not quiesce until they had it.

With a word she summoned Iramvasta, her wrath made real in the form of a spear of bleeding white oak. Before she could throw it the bear sprang at her, forelimbs outstretched to either crush or grab. She rolled to one side, twisted and rammed the spear deep into the beast’s side before its paws had even touched the ground. It didn’t seem to even notice the injury.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Invisible wings beat down hard and carried Agrathea back a dozen feet, out of reach of a vicious swipe as the bear rounded on her. “Vasta!” she shouted, and the spear disappeared from its side, reappearing in her hand and she raised it for another throw.

The bear was already thundering towards her, forcing her to take another soaring leap back. At the height of her jump she hurled the spear down. It pierced the monster’s shoulder and this time the wound seemed to register as the bear stumbled. Agrathea landed lightly and teleported her weapon back to her hand, readying a final, killing strike at the bear’s head.

That would have been the end of it, but before she could strike, a small figure dropped down in front of her and blew a stinking, yellow powder in her face. She sneezed. And sneezed again. And again. She swung the spear around blindly, but the sulphur had gotten right up her nose and in her eyes. Burning tears streamed down her face and she started coughing.

She heard the bear roar again. You made me do this. You will bleed now. This is your fault. The ground shook as it charged at her.

“Hunt, look out!”

A monkey shrieked. A goblin laughed. Something heavy struck the ground, splintering like a fallen tree and stirring up a cloud of dust and ash. Aggie sneezed so hard that it scared the crows away and she fell hard on her backside.

For a short, blessed minute the world went quiet, interrupted only by the sound of a horse happily chomping through a basket of apples.

* * *

“Look, I can only say sorry so many times. I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, and my whole coven was just murdered! What would you have done?” Aggie glared at Saturnii with all the indignation she could muster, but the little fairymoth gave as good as she got, returning her own withering stare without blinking. Moths didn’t actually possess eyelids, but that wasn’t the point.

“Umm I wouldn’t freak out and try to kill a random bystander.”

“Pfft! Yeh you say that now. If you were in my shoes…”

“Bitch, you just tried to kill my husband. You’re lucky I didn’t ram a funking blasting powder down your throat!”

Hunter’s weak voice spoke up from under the ruined wagon. “Hey, about that…could someone help get me…”

“Hah! Like your shitty powder would even explode. Come on then,” she opened her mouth wide, sticking out her tongue. “Twy it, I dware wu.”

“Excuse me…I think I’m dying…”

Saturnii scoffed. “Really, Ag? That’s a cheap shot and you know it. Those stupid trolls were going to lose the war anyway.”

“Owf cwouse dey werwe.” Aggie closed her mouth. “Of course they were. The elves had my potions.”

“HEY! Get this funking thing off me!”

Both women turned to look at the pile of broken wood and bodies. Monkey, Goblin and Mycal were tangled together in awkward embrace atop the remains of the wagon. Hunter was trapped beneath, completely naked and seriously injured.

Aggie and Saturnii glared at each other once more. With that wordless exchange they agreed to set their argument aside for the moment, and both got to work shifting the debris until Hunter was able to drag himself out.

“No offence…” he gasped, “but sometimes…you two…are the funking…worst.” He tried to stand, but one of his legs gave out and he collapsed, groaning in pain and shivering in the frigid night air. Blood oozed from the open wounds in his side and shoulder. His whole back was an ugly black and purple bruise from where both the wagon and Ignivolus had struck him.

Aggie knelt beside him. “Shit…sorry, Hunter. I didn’t know it was you…I mean…I did…but the crows…”

“Yeh, yeh…it’s okay…but…can you maybe…you know…stop funking talking and heal me?”

“She can’t, Hunt. That’s not how witches magic works.”

He groaned. “Seriously? Why…”

“She just can’t, not if she’s the cause of the harm.”

Aggie held up a hand. “Now just wait a minute, okay? I feel…like the wagon falling out of the sky…and crushing your husband…was not entirely my fault.” She didn’t feel like she was lying. That was good. She continued. “I feel…like I can heal his wounds…if you accept responsibility for the wagon.”

“WHAT?”

“It was your levitation powder. Not great mileage to be honest. If you took just a little more pride in your work…”

“Oh for funk’s sake.” Saturnii crossed her arms. “Yeh, sure, the wagon was my fault. What about the holes you poked in him?”

“Well…” she looked down at the battered, bleeding man, “if you look at this from my perspective, he actually attacked me first…”

“You’ve…got to be kidding me…” Hunter tried to sit up again but Saturnii landed on his chest.

“I just happened to be sitting on top of Ignivolus when you…got in his way. Then I hopped down…to see if you were okay…and you just came at me.”

“This is ridiculous.”

Saturnii grabbed him by the beard and looked sternly into his bloodied face. “Just do it, Hunt.”

“No.”

“Please? For me?” She fluttered her wings in the way she did when she was desperate for his agreement.

“Ugh…sure. Whatever.” He looked at Aggie. “I attacked you first. Will that do?”

She nodded and started rifling through her robe, pulling out various herbs and wiggling things that she dropped into a tiny travel cauldron, setting it down among the embers of the closest pyre. As she worked, she glanced over to where Mycal’s comatose body lay.

“Hey, Sat. Do you know much about Shroomans?”