Page 82 of Premonition of Peace

“What have we here?” Morgan Le Fay mocked as she walked around us in a circle. Her bare feet stepped on broken glass, but she didn’t seem to notice. I wasn’t sure if she was immune to the pain or if her tolerance was just that high, but either way, she left bloody footprints in her wake. “Is that a little girl? You really did create multiple versions of yourself in this place. It’s almost impressive what you’ve done here. I’ve been in many minds over the years, and none held up against me.”

She stopped before me. I spat; blood mixed with broken tooth landed in a wet glob on her left foot, and The Morrigan sneered. Lifting a bloody foot, I closed my eyes in preparation for the blow—but it didn’t come. Not immediately.

“Oh no you don’t.” Bad Nat appeared beside her, baseball bat swinging before she was even full materialized. Morgan Le Fay caught the blunt end in one hand and squeezed. The wood cracked under her grip. She switched direction and planted that foot in Bad Nat’s stomach, sending her flying across the house.

I winced.

From behind her, The Warden appeared. Blood already splattered her clothes. She was sporting a split lip and a black eye, but determination still glinted in her gaze. She stabbed at the spot where The Morrigan was, but the evil of old parried, sending another swift kick into The Warden’s ribs.

A crack echoed through the room as she soared a few feet and crashed into Ann. They both went down in a tumble. The potionAnne was mixing spilled. Green liquid rolled across the floor in a glass vial that stopped just short of Morgan Le Fay’s feet. With a flick of the witch’s wrist, the vial shot back, flying across the room toward them . . . and detonated.

The explosion that rocked the house shook me to my core.

Ann . . .

Warden . . .

My eyes watered. I felt their passing. Their pain. The way the flesh melted off their bones, the only consolation was that it was fast. Blindingly so. They had no time to scream.

But I did.

A sound I’d never made before crawled up my throat. Somewhere between a growl and battle cry. I launched myself at The Morrigan. Golden magic pouring from my skin, filling the room.

My analytical self was gone. My strength was gone.

Caretaker joined me, brandishing a cast iron pan in one hand and rolling pin in the other. My magic clashed with Morgan Le Fay’s as Caretaker went at her. The bitch danced on her bloody feet evading us both.

Then the worst happened.

The Morrigan sent a shot of black magic at Caretaker and struck true. Her head fell from her neck, a scorched hole appearing where it once was. Her body stood there, suspended, not quite realizing she was dead. And then it fell.

Caretaker hit the ground with a thud.

Gone.

Just like Ann. Just like The Warden.

An earsplitting scream stopped us both in its tracks.

Across the room, Peace stood with her fingers tense in a clawed motion. Nothing moved. No one reacted. It was like time sat still for a single second.

And then there were plants everywhere.

They burst from the hallway that led to her greenhouse. They climbed through the broken windows. They split the ground beneath us, slithering and snaking around corners and objects.

Green thorned vines appeared with a vengeance, Peace’s vengeance.

One caught the ancient witch by her ankle. Another her bicep. Quickly, they attacked her limbs, wrapping around everybody part, including her neck.

Then they squeezed.

And squeezed.

And—

Exploded.

The vines disintegrated in the face of her black magic and the force of it cut through my own. It hit me square in the chest like a stab wound. I clutched at my heart, feeling it tighten. My head became warm. Nausea churned in my stomach.

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