They seemed a bit agitated.

I was hiding in the swamp nearby, near the shit mound of the otyugh that was still burning after twelve hours, staining the blighted swamp with purity and cleanliness. They’d sent some ogres over to kill the blaze, and since vivus didn’t harm the living, they’d succeeded in tearing the mound apart, spreading it over a wide area… so now it was burning over a wide area instead of a small one.

A bit depressed, they left it to burn out, nyar, nyar.

I paralleled their retreat from the side. Occasionally, I stumbled across a native that agreed to become fodder, and my path was clearly marked by trails of dozens of dead leeches. The scavengers in the water were happy to start preying on the dead eels, crayfish, and salamanders.

There were two water elementals on patrol, but while they might be hard to see from above, the pressure waves of their passage were completely obvious in the slow-moving waters of this swamp. They both happened on the trail I was leaving and followed me, right into a one-way trip back home and out of servitude before they even saw who I was.

That was how I came within visual range of the Henge.

The stone the menhirs were made of was not native to this mountain. Pretty sure they were deep-sea basalt, actually. The way they were cut seemed to indicate a lack of tools, as if they had been cut by water and tools of bone over centuries before making their way here. The Runes on them came from at least four different symbologies… no, at least six, as I circled and studied them slowly. Demonic, daemonic, diabolic, Aberrant, Witchcraft, and Jotun. The Aberrant was mixed with Elemental influences of stone, air, and water, so it spoke of ties to the sea, probably Patrons of those swamp giants.

I could see a huge cauldron in the center of the place, definitely taller than I was, and giving off some fumes that smelled like the crap the ogres headed out to grab as grub. I imagined that they threw all the dead things they could into there and mixed it up into a revolting soup courtesy of a variant Conjure Food and Drink, and that was how they managed to sustain all these heavy eaters in such a small area.

Of course, it was a Henge, an unholy place, probably the site where they worked most of their communal magic.

Said magic required at least three Hags or Witches, but they didn’t look too disturbed at the loss of the Troll Hag… which meant they had another witch around here, or coming, or what?

I drew closer to the Henge, angling for a better look, and the earth moved.

It was only a slight movement, but it painted the presence of the earth Elemental in my awareness, waiting underground and aware of my presence. Still, it hadn’t called out an alarm or manifested.

Well, let’s see if this worked...

I glided through the water towards the movement, and the earth slowly shifted and bulged out into the crude form of a lion’s head, silently forming to meet me at the edge of water and stone and dirt.

I took my finger and traced a bloody trail down the cursed side of my face, and then reached right out and put my finger on the carved nose.

There was a momentary quiver, and then the stone eyes closed, and the lion-head receded back into the earth. I could feel a shifting of intent, as the Wards and hostile magicks here all seemed to recognize me.

Mwa-ha ha ha hah! I wasn’t really super-scared of the magic here, my Null being as high as it was, but I didn’t see any reason to give them any warnings or edge.

Yes, Aunties, you’re being killed by one of your own. Enjoy the party. It has a wonderful ending.

-------

At least eight earth Elementals around it, two air Elementals overhead providing protection from the elements, birds, and aerial attackers. The place enhanced Summoning magic, letting them bring in bigger and better things than even Ritual magic might be able to do.

There was a third Hag present somehow, because there were two of them, and they were performing a triune Ritual. So, number Three was… where? Basic Geometry was an essential component of these things, so she had to be equally distant from the other two for maximal effect, which left…

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The Cauldron? Item spirit? Or someone Sealed into this location and effectively everywhere?

Or… underneath and unseen?

Interesting. So, yet another witch or Hag present, and lairing in this Henge by one means or another. Just how many Hags used this place?

Whatever. I watched them bring in a whole team of six barb-skeletal demons, skull-hooks and everything, and set them to the task of finding me and hunting me down. They were sent out in the direction of the Trollhole, flying low above the waters as they left to pick up my trail.

I really wanted to follow them and send them home in puffs of burning smoke, so I gave the Henge a last glance as the Hags started talking among themselves, and slid back into the water after the demons, taking my time. Demons weren’t the industrious sort, so these killers would be about their jobs out of eagerness, not industriousness. I’d have plenty of time to catch up.

If they stayed as tight as they were now, they’d literally be gone in seconds. If not, one by one was fine, too…

------

I stepped into the center of the Henge, and waited.

I dropped my Darkstalker protection, the aura of ki that shielded me from unnatural senses, and my presence, such as it was, radiated out to everything in the Henge.

I could sense spells swirling over me, but not reacting adversely, much like the elementals. I was recognized, and belonged here at least as much as ogres coming to fill the mealpots.

But anything intelligent enough would know that I didn’t belong here, and would come to investigate… especially if magically they couldn’t actually see me through scrying.

I wanted to see this third Hag and confirm my suspicions. I was willing to reveal myself to do so, because she wasn’t going to last too long against me, anyways.

Oh, oh yezyezyez. From the flames under the cauldron, turning that familiar shade of yellow-green pukeness.

A witchfire. How perfectly appropriate!

She floated up over the cauldron, burning with those flames of hatred, and stared at me, standing there in their Henge, in their place of power, with no reaction from the guardians and Wards.

“Who are you, little girl? And how did you get here?” she asked, a sultry voice snarled by pain underneath and crackles of flame.

“Sama Rantha, and I swam,” I replied, ignoring how I looked perfectly dry.

She drifted closer, and when she saw that I was completely unafraid, even dismissive in my expression, I piqued her curiosity, and her caution. She drifted down within twenty feet, studying me as I stood there.

She looked like an attractive young woman, the picture of what she would have been if she had not been turned into a Hag. Just another thing to torment her in death, and drive her to hate the living.

“You have Annis blood. You must be one of Annie’s. She said she had a child out there who might be your age.” Her burning eyes roved over the Cursed side of my face and neck. “You are young for your blood to have turned, child.” She eyed the Sword, which was too large for someone my age and size to use without two hands, standing silent at my side. “Are you the one who has been attacking us, little one?”

“That is correct, Auntie,” I admitted. “But don’t you worry about it. I’ve killed thousands of witchfires, so you aren’t going to need to be concerned about it.”

My Null flared, locking down dimensions, forcing her into semi-corporeality, and locking down flight, forcing her to stay on the ground.

Then I was coming forward like I was launched from a bow, full charge at point-blank range.

She blasted me with a very strong gale of witchfire. I ignored it, Tremble raised high as I met her eyes through the flames, and came down with my own flames.

As I said, she didn’t last long. The Pounce alone on the charge nearly took her out, and she couldn’t fly up or sink down. The hesitation cost her, and this advanced witchfire who thought she was mighty and powerful... died in no time at all.

The Elementals all around were quite stirred up when she died right in the middle of the Henge… but they weren’t going to get involved in internal affairs, and she failed to give them orders in time for them to reach me.

The Hags were arrogant, and powerful, and even if they were cautious, they weren’t expecting me to be so deadly after they saw me. I was pretty sure that after this that they’d kill me immediately upon seeing me, after they talked to the Elementals.

Which was cool. I hadn’t seen dear Hagmother, and wondered what it would take to get her back here. Regardless, I was fairly sure I had broken the current coven, so unless they brought in another witch, they wouldn’t be able to use the Henge to proper effect.

I waited around just long enough to One Strike a foot-tall triangle into the base of the cauldron, stroke by stroke, carving through almost an inch of black iron under protest. It sent the contents gushing out into the Henge, and hopefully ruined the magic of the thing, since it seemed to be the locus of their Ritual power.

Toppling the menhirs themselves would have to wait for another time, when I had the time to put into it.

I had no haul, but that was fine. It was time to leave before the other Hags could race here, which is almost what I did… waiting just long enough to see what directions they were coming from before I scooted into the water.

Given their speed and direction and time of response, I had a pretty good idea how far they were away with their private homes, and it was time to go check on them for later attention.