A Nameless Witch Part 23

"So I see. But even the greatest sorcery can't serve three fates from a single portion of destiny."

"Yes," said the woman. "And that is why only one of us will walk from this field."

"And I shall be that one," hissed the ghoul.

"We shall see, sister," replied the woman.

None of us could kill the other because, at this moment, none were true enough to die. This was why neither Wyst, Newt, nor Gwurm could be of any help. Only I could return my shadows to the nether from which they'd been summoned, and I could only do this by keeping them from s.n.a.t.c.hing away my ident.i.ty. Reality was on my side. Yet this might not be enough. Reality was a fickle ally at best.

The ghoul struck first. She was my curse unchecked by Ghastly Edna's witchly lessons of patience. The woman stood back, smiling as if victory were already hers.

The ghoul leaped, hands outstretched to wrap around my throat. As if she could throttle her existence from me. As if I could be slain by strangling. Her technique was instinctive and direct, but I was her match in speed. I struck her across the jaw with a backhanded fist. She fell to one knee.

The ghoul raised her head, grinning. Blood dribbled down her chin. "Very good, witch. You stand revealed for what you are. A creature of strength and power. Do you not feel the gush within your undead heart when you call upon your curse? Do you see now that all your magic is just a trifle? It will let you down one day. But your curse, that shall always be there for you. For me."

The ghoul darted to one side faster than I could follow. Raking claws tore open my face. I raised a hand to defend myself, but she ducked aside. Her first attack had been a feint. She was quicker than she'd let on.

A fist smashed into my back and knocked the wind from lungs that didn't really need air. "Surprised, witch? Fast as you are, deadly as you are, I am far deadlier." She latched on to my throat and squeezed until vertebrae cracked. "I am your physical power developed to its ultimate. Beside me, you are a weakling. Where is your magic now?" She dropped me into the gra.s.s.

I sat up. My breath was ragged. My face was bloodied, and a terrible rage growled within.

"You can't deny it. You want to be me, to feel the certainty that I feel. To know your purpose without question. To seduce and slaughter and glut yourself on delectable mortal flesh. Your conscience is your misery. It is a burden that I don't have, and a burden you yearn to be rid of."

I was tempted, and I felt my reality trickle into the ghoul. Her murky body thickened as mine darkened. I could see her now. Truly see her. She was a hideous creature, every bit as flawless as I, but there was more to beauty than full b.r.e.a.s.t.s and green eyes. Her movements were jerking. Her eyes were full of fiendish hunger. Her lips ever snarled, even as she grinned. Her hair was a s.h.i.+mmering black tangle falling like a cape across her back.

I ran fingers across my stinging knuckles and torn face. There was truth in her words, but it was a small truth.

"Conscience is my burden, but all worthwhile gifts have their price."

She shuddered. The stream of existence reversed, and she began to fade.

"But it could be so simple," the ghoul hissed. "Why hold on to that which only makes your life difficult?"

"Because life is complicated and difficult. Anyone who says otherwise hasn't truly lived."

She melted into the earth, but not without one last gasp. "I'll be back. No one can resist their nature forever."

I didn't deny this. To do so would have been arrogant, and arrogance would have been the first step toward her prediction.

"One day, witch, you will wake up to discover I have become you."

"Maybe one day. But not tonight."

The ghoul faded away to a black spot on the ground.

"She never had a chance," said the woman.

"She had a chance." My wounds disappeared. They had never been real. "Just not much of one."

The woman stepped before me. "I, on the other hand, have already won."

"I know."

The stream rushed into the woman. My stolen substance filled her. She was a pretty creature, not nearly as beautiful as I. But I could see myself in her slightly plumper figure and soft brown eyes.

She lowered her head. "I'm sorry."

"You only take what I offer."

It was a strange thing. I didn't surrender myself to her because I hated what I was or because mortality was all that tempting a fate. I liked being a witch, and I'd grown accustomed to my curse. It denied me little. Nothing but the one desire I couldn't ignore anymore.

"He won't love me," she said. "I may be you, but I am not the you he knows."

It was true, but it didn't make any difference. I loved Wyst, and my heart fantasized that as a woman, he could love me back. It was an unlikely dream. Even if I weren't undead, he would still be a White Knight. Dreams are rarely founded on truth, and this sorcery drew on my deepest wishes. I couldn't change those. Even with magic.

"I'm sorry" The woman wiped a tear from her eye.

I sank into the dark earth and for an instant I knew what it was to be a ghost of destiny. But it was brief, even for an instant.

Magic, not my own, crackled through the air. The earth spit me out, and I snapped back into truth. The woman fell at my feet. I felt a terrible pity for her, but she just smiled ever so softly before fading into oblivion. The second trial was finished. Once again, I was alone.

The woman may have been my heart's desire, but my curse was more powerful than this sorcery and my innermost yearnings. Nasty Larry denied my escape even through altered destiny.

I could've become the ghoul. The curse wouldn't have minded, but Ghastly Edna had saved me from that. Her education had given me more than magic. If she'd been here, I would have thanked her.

She would have most certainly replied, "We all save ourselves, child, even if we are fortunate enough to have help along the way."

Smiling, I offered her silent thanks anyway and headed back to the camp.

CHAPTER 23

Upon my return, Wyst was still gone, and I worried. I didn't fear for his safety. He could take care of himself well enough. But I'd sensed our brief embrace had shaken his virtue, and a White Knight's virtue was his greatest possession, his defining quality. Though he'd agreed to the minor violation, I never should have put him in the position to make it. Terrible errors are rarely made all at once. Usually they are performed one small misstep at a time. It had been wrong to ask, but I couldn't make myself feel bad about what had happened in my cellar. This wasn't surprising. The wrong thing often feels right. Such is the nature of temptation. was still gone, and I worried. I didn't fear for his safety. He could take care of himself well enough. But I'd sensed our brief embrace had shaken his virtue, and a White Knight's virtue was his greatest possession, his defining quality. Though he'd agreed to the minor violation, I never should have put him in the position to make it. Terrible errors are rarely made all at once. Usually they are performed one small misstep at a time. It had been wrong to ask, but I couldn't make myself feel bad about what had happened in my cellar. This wasn't surprising. The wrong thing often feels right. Such is the nature of temptation.

I took my place beside the campfire without saying a word. Gwurm handed me some b.l.o.o.d.y flesh to chew upon. Newt couldn't contain his impatience.

"Well?"

I sucked on my fingers. "It's done."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"You defeated the second trial?"

I chuckled. "Me? No, I'm afraid not." Ghastly Edna and Nasty Larry had overcome the trial.

"So you lost?"

"No."

Newt grunted. "I miss the old bat. She may not have told me everything, but I don't remember her being so confounding."

I realized that as much as I loved Ghastly Edna, we were two very different witches. She'd lived by herself with a duck and a cursed girl, both of which did whatever she told them to without question. She might offer a verbal riddle here or there, but she'd spoken little. I was part of a much larger world and demands were made on my witchliness that I'd never seen my mistress face. I liked playing with words, watching how they might say so much and so little at once.

"Is the second trial over then?" Newt dared ask.

I nodded.

"Good. Two more then?"

I nodded again.

"Any idea when the next one is?"

I didn't answer.

"Forget I asked." He put aside his confusion. I'd given him enough practice at it.

Nothing was said after that. Newt and Gwurm went to sleep, but I wasn't tired. I contemplated the overcast night. A soft breeze swept across the fields, and my hair frolicked in the air. It had been a long time since it had been free to dance with the wind.

"I knew you were going to be trouble," said Wyst's horse.

His unsolicited comment surprised me. Up to now, the beast and I hadn't spoken. He'd been spurning me, and I hadn't given it much thought.

He didn't look at me and rocked his head. "Trouble."

I walked over and tried to pet his muzzle. He pulled away.

"h.e.l.lo."

The horse snorted.

"Have I done something to offend you?"

He strode a few paces away and turned his head to look at me with one brown eye. "You're a witch. That alone should be enough."

"Ah, so you don't like witches."

He flicked his tail in my direction. "I've nothing against them exactly, but I am the loyal steed of a White Knight. It doesn't seem right to speak with one, even a mostly harmless witch."

I paced a wide circle to get around to his front without drawing too close. "Mostly harmless, am I?"

"Did I say mostly." The horse smacked his loose lips. "I meant largely."

"Is there a difference?"

He closed his eyes and kicked the gra.s.s. "Leave me alone. I'm trying to sleep."

"As you wish." I turned away "You'll be the end of him, and he was such a fine champion."

I stopped. "I would never harm him."

The horse neighed a mirthless chuckle. "You've already done him harm. You've started him down the path of corruption. Once a White Knight starts down that road ..."

I lowered my head. "I never intended ..."

"What you intended is hardly relevant. What did you do to him in that bas.e.m.e.nt?"

"Nothing." I whispered to soften the lie.

The horse trotted behind me and nudged my shoulder. "It's not your fault. I know you can't help how you feel any more than he can. That's why it's happening. Do you think you're the first temptation we've come across? There have been others. More than I can count. Wyst has drawn his share of lovely admirers. Why shouldn't he? He's virtuous and brave, handsome and gallant, everything a woman might want. But all the others loved the Knight, not the man. You're different. You see him as none have, and he sees that you see. How can anyone not love someone who loves them for who they are? Especially someone more beautiful than all the others combined."

I reached out and stroked between his eyes. "I didn't want it to happen."

"Neither did he, but it did. And it will."

"Perhaps not."

He stuck out his tongue. "I've been his boon companion for a very long time. I know Wyst better than anyone. Sometimes, better than he knows himself. He's out in the fields now, meditating, struggling to clear his mind of these urges. They teach White Knights to suppress their baser desires. But even a great Knight such as Wyst can't stifle his love."

So great was my surprise that even a lifetime of witchly training couldn't hide it. Agape, I stepped away from the horse.

"He loves me?"

The horse shook his head. His lips turned in a sardonic grin. "Very much so. More than even he suspects."

I struggled to contain my excitement and mostly succeeded. The only trace of my joy came in a soft smile and a spontaneous sprouting of sunflowers at my feet.

"Do you love him?" asked the horse.

I answered without hesitation. "Yes." A pair of silver b.u.t.terflies materialized in my palm. I let them into the air with a wave of my hand.

"That's it then," sighed the horse. "He's doomed."

"I would never hurt him."

"There are more dooms than death. A White Knight touched by love is ruined. They can't return to a life of virtue after that."

"You don't understand. I'm cursed. I can't love him, not as a mortal woman loves a man."