* * *
“Nope, nothing.” The distant, muffled voice came from somewhere above him, right before something was slammed down through the dirt, barely missing his head.
Kit swiveled his eyes to the side to stare at it. It was wood, as thick around as his wrist and pointed slightly at one end. A fine specimen of a stake, he thought, with blank terror.
“Are you sure you saw him over here?”
That was the witch. Gillian. He tensed at her voice, trying to force something, anything past his lips. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded, but the stake was removed.
“Aye, although I don’t know why ye care,” the other voice said. “He’s a vampire. He’ll just feed off ye again.”
“He didn’t feed off me the first time,” the witch said. “I told you, he was helping me.”
“Strange kind ‘o help that leaves ye pale and sweating,” the other voice grumbled, right before the stake was slammed down again--between his legs.
His alarmed grunt must have been audible that time, because the witch’s voice came again, closer this time. “Don’t move, Winnie.”
Kit lay there, his heart hammering in his chest in rapid beats that his kind weren’t supposed to have. But then, they weren’t supposed to panic, either. And that was clearly a bunch of—
“Found him!” The witch’s excited voice came from just above him, and there was a sudden lessening of the weight of the earth pressing down on his limp body.
It took ten minutes for them to haul him out, either because the witches had expended their magic destroying the jailers, or because no one cared to use any on a vampire. Certainly the sour-faced dwarf who finally uncovered his head looked like she’d much rather just heap the dirt back where they’d found it, possibly after using her massive stake one more time. But the witch got hands under his arms and pulled him out of the hole in a series of sharp tugs.
She laid him on the ground and bent over him, her unbound hair falling onto his filthy face. “Are you all right?” she asked distinctly.
Kit tried to answer, but only succeeded in causing his tongue to loll out of his mouth. He tasted dirt. She pushed it back in, looking worried.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked the dwarf, who was suddenly looking more cheerful.
“One too many stun spells, looks like to me,” she said cheerfully. “And he didn’t get out ‘o the way fast enough when the tower came down.” She poked at him with her toe. “Be out of it for a while, he will.”
She moved away, probably off to terrorize someone else, and the witch knelt by his side. “We can’t stay,” she told him, trying to brush a little of the caked dirt off him. “The Circle probably knows about this already, or if they don’t, they soon will. We have to go while we still have a head start.”
Kit coughed up a clod of dirt from lungs that felt bone dry. He strongly suspected that he’d swallowed a good deal of it, too, but mercifully, the witch had found his flask and filled it with water. He gulped it gratefully, despite the unpleasant sensation of mud churning in his stomach.
It managed to rinse enough soil loose from his vocal chords for a dry whisper. “You…came back,” he croaked.
She brushed dirty hair out of his eyes, causing a little cascade down the back of his ruined shirt. “Of course. What did you expect?”
“I…wasn’t sure.” He licked his lips and drank a little more with her help. “We…had a deal, but…many people…”
She frowned slightly. “What deal?”
“I help you…you…help me.”
“I did help you,” she said, the frown growing. “Winnie wasn’t the only one who wanted to stake you.”
He shook his head, sending a cloud of dust into the air. “No. You promised…”
“I’m not going with you,” she told him flatly. “I have a child to think about. I have to get her out of England.”
“You…you’re Great Mother now,” he protested. “You can’t leave.”
“Watch me,” she said viciously. She gestured around at the tumbled rubble. “This is what the Circle brings. Nothing but ruins and destruction, everywhere they go. I’m not raising a child in constant peril!”
If he’d had any saliva, Kit would have pointed out that the Circle hadn’t turned a perfectly good, if slightly dilapidated castle into a pile of rocks. But he didn’t, and she didn’t give him the chance in any case.
“And as for the other, you cannot have a coven of one. And I’m shortly going to be the only one left. Everyone else is going back to their own people, to regroup, to plan, to hide…” she shrugged. “It’s a new world, now that the covens are gone. And we each have to find our own role in it.”
He lay there, watching the last rays of the setting sun blaze through her glorious hair. And wished his damn throat would unfreeze. He had a thousand things to say and no time to say them. “If you’re not…going to stay. Why look for me?” he finally managed.
She bent down, her face softening, sweet lips just grazing his. “To say thank you,” she whispered. “Winnie will never understand but…I was there. I know. You could have finished what you started.”
“Not…unwilling.”
She smiled, a little tearfully. “And if ever anyone was to convince me…”
He caught her hand as she started to rise. “Stay,” he said urgently. “You don’t…I can show you things…wonders—”
“You already have.”
She kissed him, with feeling this time, until his head was spinning from more than just the spells. She didn’t say anything when she drew back, but she pushed his hanging mouth closed with a little pop. Then she jumped to her feet and ran for the distant tree line.
But after only a few yards, she stopped, paused for a moment, and then ran back. And relieved him of his ring. “Travelling money,” she said, with a faintly apologetic look. And then she took off again.
Kit stared after her until the gathering shadows swallowed her up. Witches. He’d been right all along. They were completely mad.
He smiled slightly, his lips still tingling from her final touch. But what glorious madness.
The End
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