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The Last Witch
Chapter 21.1 - Retaking the Manor

Chapter 21.1 - Retaking the Manor

Asher had no idea how he left the crystal room. He couldn’t remember how he got in either, but now he stood surrounded by trees, regular, human pine trees, and he tried to connect the path between Nakati and the woods, but there wasn’t one. Not even an imaginary door like what had brought him there in the first place. It was strangely muted, grey around the edges as though he were losing his ability to see colour. The clothes he was wearing were still as sharp and dark as before, a black coat with a soft, silky shirt a deep blue, complete with a cane that met his hip at the perfect height.

What Asher hadn’t expected the sword to return. He’d forgotten about the stone blade from back in Le Torkani, but it was now at his hip, and in the light of the real world, it was as strangely beautiful thing, broad and short, with black crystals jutting out from the guard, decorated with veins of bright blue and green and red.

Penn had returned to his human form as well, but he stood straighter, taller, and his clothes were noticeably better tailored, the cloak even and flowing around his torso, decorated with copper spikes that reminded Asher of his horns. As the man brushed himself off and regarded their surroundings – the gold band still marking his wrist – Asher noticed that he could still see the horns, shadows that shimmered on the edge of his vision and disappeared if he stared too long.

Penn pointed at a space between the trees. Asher squeezed the handle of his cane until his nails broke the skin of his palms, then they both stepped out of the forest.

They were at Dalvany Manor, standing at the tree line at the back of the property. He saw the same patio where he had first met Norrah all those weeks ago, and the window beyond with the large dining hall. A lone maid stood by the table now, polishing down the surface. She hadn’t seen them.

The idea struck hard and fast. ‘Is this where it’s going to happen?’ he asked Penn.

‘No, further,’ Penn said.

‘Is there a way to ward this place off?’ Asher asked. ‘Like what the Nakati did in… Nakati? Make it so that nothing can get through except people?’

Penn frowned. ‘I can make it, but there are few humans here.’

‘We can send them here,’ Asher said.

‘It needs to be made safe,’ Penn said. ‘You check inside. I will make a ring.’

Asher sighed. No matter what happened next, this part was going to be interesting.

He let himself through the servant’s door behind the dining hall, keeping his steps careful to not scare the maid. The narrow little hall led through to the back drawing room, where Norrah and Magnus had been talking the day he left. He’d never stopped to consider how Magnus had been talking about naming himself regent, but now there were bigger things to be worried about. It was cold; the fireplace was dead and blackened, and the room was dark, untouched for what looked like days. A single, twisting glass sat half full of one of the bars choice liquors, flat and still and untouched. Asher didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but the hairs on his arms were at an end, and he wasn’t about to ignore the dread creeping up his spine.

A scream tore through the room, and Asher whirled around as a maid stood in the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes. Before he could get a word out, she turned and bolted back down the hall. Asher swore and rushed after her.

He burst into the front foyer when a blade shot out and almost took his head clean off. It pressed against his windpipe even as he backed up, and Norrah twisted the rapier around in her grip, glaring at him.

‘You better be ready to explain yourself.’ Her voice was low and angry.

Asher swallowed as steel pushed into his larynx, and held up the hand that didn’t hold his cane. ‘I know you don’t trust me right now, but—’

‘Don’t trust you?’ Norrah echoed. ‘This is not about you raving about the end of the world. Do you have any idea how much panic you caused with your little smoke and mirrors act? It was almost a full riot. You told a group of people they deserved to die.’

‘I didn’t put it like that,’ Asher pointed out. ‘But I didn’t lie, I swear I didn’t. It’s going to happen again, and it’s going to be huge. People need to know. They need to get out of Dalvany.’

‘We cleared the scene before,’ Norrah said. ‘Unless your plan is to come in like a chosen hero and save us all.’

‘No,’ Asher said. ‘That’s not what this is. Norrah, what happened last time was a little ripple. This one is going to be huge. I don’t know how big, but it might tear through the whole kingdom. I need your help now. I know you don’t believe me, but you need to evacuate.’

‘And go where?’ Norrah demanded. ‘If the whole Kingdom is about to be ripped apart?’

‘Here,’ Asher said. ‘The manor should be safe. As safe as we can make it for now.’

Norrah side-stepped in front of Asher, still pointing the rapier at his throat. Asher wondered if she really planned to stab him, if everything he’d done and everything he planned to do would end right here. ‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’ she asked. ‘How do I know Lord Barque wasn’t right about you causing this.’

‘It’s my word against his,’ Asher admitted. ‘I can’t. But I’m here, asking you to listen. Please.’

Norrah glared at him, her knuckles white under the guard of the rapier. Asher held her gaze, even as the temperature dropped lower in the air around them, as the air stilled and the walls creaked.

‘I am not leaving you alone with this,’ she said. ‘If there is a fight, I will fight as well. You won’t push me aside.’

‘Can you fight?’ Asher asked.

‘I placed third place at the Fencing Championship of the New Order Euthrian Leaders College,’ Norrah said.

‘That’s not—’

‘It was an all-girl’s school,’ Norrah pressed. ‘I can handle a dirty fight.’

Asher nodded, and Norrah finally lowered the blade from his neck.

‘What about Evelyn?’ he asked.

‘Leave her out of this,’ Norrah snapped. ‘You almost killed her with your little display. It’s been a day; she needs time to calm down. I will have her seeing to the people who come here. You will stay out of the way.’

Asher nodded again, guilt hitting him like a punch to the stomach. ‘Tell her I’m sorry, if anything. None of this was supposed to hurt her.’

‘That, I do believe,’ Norrah said.

A slow clap echoed out from the landing, and Norrah whirled around with her sword raised as the Alchemist stepped up to the railing, watching them both with that same cursed smile always spread across his face. Gone was the old man who had questioned him at the market; this one was tall and straight with a thick head of dark hair, wearing a fine suit with a cape that trailed down the length of his body. Asher might have believed it was a different person, if not for the unnatural eyes, and the smile that was too wide and flashed pointed teeth.

‘Is this what protests our freedom?’ the Alchemist asked. ‘A one-legged witch and a little girl with a stick?’

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Asher stepped in front of Norrah, gripping his cane in his fist. His heart hammered in his chest, but this time he wouldn’t be taken by surprise. This time he knew how to fight back.

‘So tense!’ The Alchemist leaned against the railing, the smile growing wider still. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Asher. Do you know how long it’s been since I had a witch to play with? The things I could make you in to, the things I could do to fix you.’

The front door creaked behind him, and Asher’s hands started shaking, which only made his frustration spike. He would not lose to this monster again.

One spirit was noticeable in the foyer, running through the veins of the flowers that bloomed from a vase on a pedestal by the stairs. It ran through the leaves and stem, before catching the roses in a spectral flame that lazily flickered out. He couldn’t see any closer ones.

The Alchemist caught him looking and the grin widened to split his face in half. ‘Do you think you’re fast enough?’

Asher leapt across the foyer, that familiar pain in his leg shooting up through his calf as he forced it into a sprint. The front door imploded next to him, throwing him to the floor before he could reach the podium. Asher skidded across the tiles, then dug his fingers into the groves to catch himself. The monster burst into the space, turning the frame and the walls around the door to splinters as its massive frame burst through.

Norrah screamed as the creature rose to its full height, looming over Asher with stitched up eyes boring down into him. The eyes that had been in their human sockets were now nailed to the top of its head, swinging back and forth wildly as it moved. The head was barely more than a skull, the flesh removed then sloppily melded back onto bone. It had the body of a great bear, the legs twice as thick as a regular bare and bent outward at the joints. The bottom part of the skull had been removed to make way for a maw of sharp, gnashing teeth.

‘Recognise an old friend, Asher?’ The Alchemist chided.

Strangling back his own cry, Asher flipped the tip of his cane into his fist, then swung wide, knocking the podium until the vase tipped and shattered across the floor. A small handful of the roses landed by his feet, but not close enough for him to reach out to them. He cursed silently.

The monster reared and the memory of those claws coming down sent pain through the scars on his chest. Asher rolled out of the way as it came down, his coat catching on the broken ceramic and the thorns littering the ground. The great monster smashed the tiles where his head had been, then whipped around to face Norrah. One of its eyes spun on the nail, swinging past him before returning to straight ahead. Norrah cried out as it charged at her, leaping out of the way before it rammed itself into the arch connecting to the hallway, thrashing its back legs out to dislodge its massive frame. Norrah rightened herself and jammed her rapier into its side. The blade bounced off harmlessly.

‘Use this one!’ Asher unsheathed his own sword and tossed it across the floor. Norrah rushed for it and scooped it up as the Fienta freed itself and rounded on her once again. Asher lunged for a nearby rose, then recoiled as the flame engulfing it flashed then simmered out.

Heat surged through his outstretched hand, his skin prickling and buzzing. When he turned his wrist, he saw nothing, but his skin burned, searing as the other spirits in the rest of the mess flittered out. The heat spread through his chest, up his neck and along his other arm. His skin buzzed, building, waiting for movement, for release.

The roar of the Fienta was the only warning he had as it reared over him again, and Asher swore, rolling out of the way and grabbing a shard of the broken glass. He rammed it into the creature’s stomach, and the heat surged down his arm, exploding in a white, spectral flame on the monster’s middle. The Fienta roared loud enough to shake the walls, and Asher scrambled out of the way as it crashed down on the floor. The Alchemist still stood on the landing above, its face twisted downwards into an elongated frown.

‘Old world tricks,’ he hissed. ‘When did you become this?’

Asher glanced down at his hand, and saw it was covered in dust. As he moved, as the burning continued to surge down his arm, the grey mess grew thicker, until a pile of it sat in his open palm. He thrust his arm out, tossing the stuff at the monster, causing another scream to tear through the room as the skull exploded into a burst of flame and bone, one of the eyes bursting and falling to the floor in a black goo.

Norrah leapt onto the creature, scrambling up its back and driving the sword deep into the back of its neck, pressing her whole weight into the guard until the entire blade had sunk into the creature. With a sickening tearing sound, the human skull fell from the rest of its body, and the entire creature sagged, melting into the tiles. Norrah blew a stray hair out of her face, then ripped the sword from the creature and turned to the Alchemist. Asher saw her discarded rapier on the ground nearby, and he scooped it up before turning his attention to the Fienta on the landing.

‘You aren’t of the world before,’ the Alchemist sneered. ‘Where do you find the audacity to pretend you saw the change of the last Gate opening. You are a chid.’

‘You never saw it either,’ Asher pointed out. The name on the file came to him in a blink. ‘Hagan Neirdturmb. You only disappeared eighty years ago. You haven’t seen much of anything.’

‘I know your witch tricks when I see them,’ the Alchemist growled. ‘Is knowing what I was before supposed to do something? I am more than a simple man now. That name has no effect on--’

Another vase smashed into the back of his head, the force shattering the clay shape and sending the Fienta spinning over the railing. He crashed into the floor below in a heap, his body twisted into a knot that would shatter the bones on a regular human. Evelyn regarded the piece of vase still in her hand, then tossed it aside and huffed.

‘When this is over,’ she said. ‘You and I are going to have a very long chat about checking in on your family.’

Asher grinned as relief poured through him. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked.

‘Get that thing out of my house,’ Evelyn ordered.

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Asher twisted the rapier around in his grip, testing its weight before levelling it towards the Alchemist. Heat surged through his arm again – not as intense as before – then the metal flared against his skin, the dust returning and running in streams down the blade. The Alchemist lifted its body, and Asher aimed the tip at his chin. It wasn’t this easy. It couldn’t be. There was another trick, or another monster waiting.

‘Go ahead, little witch,’ the Alchemist said. ‘Kill me. It won’t do anything.’

Asher tightened his grip on the rapier, scanning his peripherals for any sign of another attack. Next to him, Norrah glanced around, then paused when she turned to the front door behind them. A low growl rumbled through the ground. Asher took a step back.

‘You will wait forever,’ the Alchemist said. ‘There is no place safe for you in this world. Nowhere can you be away from our--’ he paused, then that grin widened across his entire face again, splitting his skull clean in two. He began to laugh, high and manic cackling that set Asher’s teeth on edge.

Asher whirled around as yet another bear creature identical to the dead one lumbered up the front stairs and through the hole where the door had been. Norrah swore and raised her sword, but the monster paused, the growl turning to a pained whine as it shrank back. Asher braced for an attack, but it never came. Instead, tree roots burst through the floor and the front balcony, tearing through the creature like gnarled swords.

‘Askjik!’ Norrah cried. ‘How are you doing this?’

‘That wasn’t me,’ Asher said.

The Alchemist continued to laugh. ‘The King has arrived!’ he announced. ‘Returned for a grand re-death!’

Asher turned and plunged the sword deep into the still cackling creature’s chest, cutting off the noise with a sharp gasp. He twisted the blade around, then, with another flare of heat no stronger than catching sunlight in a window – he slapped the Alchemist as hard as he could. The Fienta’s face sizzled, melting down against his skull. Asher ripped the rapier free, and the Alchemist slumped back onto the floor, nothing but a pile of bones and rags.

When he turned again, the roots had curved over the broken ground, resting back against the wood and dirt, and Penn stood where the bear-creature had been, his eyes burning hot. His horns were still a ghostly echo over his head, but they had straightened, unfurling from around the top of his head and standing at an angle, pointed towards the sky.

‘What the fuck?’ Norrah’s voice was a gasp.

‘I know, it’s a lot to take in,’ Asher said.

Norrah whirled around, glaring at him. Her hair had come loose from its bun, and long strands of black hair fell over her face. ‘I don’t want to hear a word about how you told me before.’

‘I wasn’t going to,’ Asher said. He turned to where Evelyn still stood on the landing above. ‘I’m sorry about all of this,’ he said.

‘This place is safe now,’ Penn said. ‘The spirits will hold.’

Asher nodded. ‘We’re going to send people here, away from the worst of it,’ he told Evelyn. ‘Can you make sure they’re safe?’

‘Of course,’ Evelyn said. ‘But you need to come back. Don’t you go off to war and leave me here.’

‘I swear I won’t,’ Asher said. ‘But it’s about to get a lot worse out there.’

Evelyn huffed again and straightened her dress. ‘I’ve always wanted to tell Lord Barque to shove a lemon up his behind. You’ll always have me here.’

Asher chuckled. ‘We need to get into town,’ he told Penn. ‘How are you with horses?’

Penn raised an eyebrow. ‘There are faster ways.’

‘Not with Norrah with us, there’s not,’ Asher said. He gestured to the woman next to him.

‘There are horses out in the stable,’ Norrah said. ‘Some of the volunteers just had them sent back; they’ll still be saddled. Who is this man exactly?’

‘That’s a long story,’ Asher said. ‘I’ll tell you on the way.’

He offered the rapier back to her, but Norrah shook her head and twisted the stone sword around in her hand. With a nod between both of them, they rushed for the hole where the door used to be.

‘Asher!’ Evelyn called after him. ‘I know you don’t like it, but I want to say it. I will always see you as my own. I couldn’t be prouder of you.’

Asher nodded. ‘I don’t have anyone else either,’ he said. ‘But I’m glad you’re here.’

Without another word, he turned to Penn and Norrah, and they ran out of the manor, towards the stables on the edge of the properly.