Page 18 of Home Is Where the Witch Is
He ducked down low, using the manacles as leverage to pull himself down toward the floor of the room. Gathering his magic, he fired a few spells at the manacles to no avail. They held fast, and his efforts had made him release more air than he could afford to waste. He looked like he was physically struggling not to gulp in water, as his lungs must have started burning for air.
In the meantime, Medea was floating atop the gushing water but was struggling to keep air in her lungs as well. The sheer force of the water meant that it wasn’t smooth swimming, and she was on a time limit as well. The ceiling of the room was fast approaching, and she had her sights fixed on a metal grate fixed into it that should be just big enough for a person to be able to squeeze through. She focused her magical intent, sending first one spell at the grate and then another before she seemed to realize Alain was now completely underwater.
The screen showed a range of emotions flickering across the Greek witch’s face, from shock and refusal to disgust. Finally, she seemed resigned to what she was going to have to do if she was going to stand a chance of passing this Ordeal. Taking a huge gulp of water, Medea did a duck-dive beneath the rising arctic water.
Alain was drifting lifelessly in the current caused by the influx of water, his long hair wavering in the current. Medea reached him in two powerful strokes, grabbing a fistful of his collar to pull herself the rest of the way. Closing the gap between them, she pressed her lips to Alain’s and quite literally breathed life back into him. The Frenchman’s eyes fluttered open in surprise and a few air bubbles escaped their life-giving kiss, but he gratefully accepted the lifeline. Medea waited for him to close his mouth before breaking away from him, jetting herself magically back to the surface.
Renewed, Alain refocused his magic on trying to break free of the manacles that kept him tethered to the floor of the room. What the witch didn’t know was that even if hedidmanage to break free, the grate in the ceiling still needed to be dealt with. It was clear to Rosie that the pair of witches needed to work together if they were going to get out of this alive… but Medea was too focused on the grate and Alain was too desperate to free himself.
When his second barrage of spells did nothing to release his shackles, Alain sagged in the water. It was as though he realized he couldn’t do it alone and was running out of the air Medea had so reluctantly given him. The other witch was still trying in vain to shift the grate in the ceiling, as the water rushed closer and closer to trapping her beneath its grip as well. Taking another huge gulp of precious air, she dove back down to help Alain. Her eyes widened when she noticed his defeated-looking body bobbing in the water, and she rushed to swim to his side and give him more air.
This time, Alain held onto his rival-turned-partner with gentle but insistent hands. He waited until she met his gaze and then looked emphatically at the manacles around his ankles. Medea looked and nodded, and the pair began to regather their arcane energy. Together they fired a bolt of bright white light at the tether, to no avail. They both lost air with the effort of doing magic underwater, but Alain wasn’t ready to admit defeat. He clasped Medea’s hand, his eyes fixed on hers as he wordlessly pleaded for her not to give up on him yet.
They each drew in their power once again, this time channeling it through their joined hands at the iron chains that kept Alain fixed to the floor. The resulting spell culminated in a jolt of sizzling red heat that lit up the whole room, making the water seem sooty and murky. After a moment or two, however, the magic had managed to eat through the manacles. The chain broke and Alain immediately began to swim for the surface—keeping a firm grip on Medea’s hand as he went.
Breaching the water together, they both desperately gulped for air—or what precious little air there was to be had. The water was fast reaching the ceiling, with just a little over a foot of space to be had. Swimming over to the grate, they dug deep for their remaining arcane energy. It took them four tries to finally blast through it, but that was only the first part of the battle.
They had to get up through the grate before they ran out of air.
“Let me go first,” Alain said, bobbing in the water beside Medea. “I’ve got the upper-body strength to myself up and through, then I can reach down for you.”
“I’ve got plenty of upper body strength too,” Medea argued, offended. “I’ll go first.”
Alain’s gaze was piercing. “Now that you don’t need me anymore, what’s to stop you from closing the grate once you’re through?”
Rosie held her breath, watching the scene unfold on the screen. She didn’t blame Alain for being cautious, and while she didn’t really like Medea she agreed that pulling the ‘I’m a dude’ card had been a dick move.
“You’ll have to trust me,” the Greek witch said, her jaw set like granite.
“You’ll have to trust me,” Alain countered. “I already trusted you to?—”
“Fine!” Medea snapped. “We don’t have time for this. Go!”
Alain didn’t need to be told twice. He kicked hard and used his arms to push himself up out of the water, gripping the sides of the gap in the ceiling. He pulled himself through the space with flair, first sitting on the edge so his legs were dangling back in the water before standing in the roof space. A second later, his hand came back through as he reached for Medea.
“Mademoiselle?”
With a grimace, Medea took his hand and prepared to hoist herself up.
The screen the crowd was watching turned black at the exact moment the door to the room reopened. The water gushed through in a torrent that soaked anyone not quick enough to leap back out of the way. Medea and Alain were washed into the room with the force, carried by the water right up to the stage where Chaoxiang was waiting.
“Well done,” he declared as the crowd broke into applause. His eyes were wise and somewhat amused as he glanced down at the pair of witches, as though not quite able to believe they had managed to get over their differences long enough to survive. “You have successfully passed the Ordeal of Two Minds. Please proceed backstage, where the medical team will check you over.”
As the two soaked candidates left, Chaoxiang turned his attention to the crowd. “That concludes the day’s events. Tomorrow we will be in recess, to allow our candidates time to heal and for their magical energy to recover. We’ll resume the day after, at 9am.”
Rosie’s hand tightened gratefully on Declan’s arm. After days of Council excitement, she was more than ready to get back to their normal lives. At least for a little while.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wood’n Wax wasone of Rosie’s favorite places in Mosswood. Even though she hadn’t had much cause to visit the hardware store much since her initial spruce-up of Fox Cottage, there was just something soothing about the small but well-stocked little store. It was everything a hardware store ought to be: a mish-mash of tools and materials that smelled delightfully of fresh wood shavings and fresh potting mix from the thriving selection of house plants kept by the front window.
The bell above the door tinkled as she walked in, taking a deep, relaxing breath as she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. Maggie, who’d insisted on coming for the ride, abandoned her mother as soon as they arrived for the tiny koi pond bubbling in the back corner. Beckett, one of the owners, tossed Rosie a sympathetic but friendly smile as she approached the counter.
“Don’t worry,” Becker, the owner teased. “You’ll have a good ten or so years with the next one before they find my fish more interestin’ than you. Don’t look like you got much more waitin’ to do, neither.”
She was an older woman who’d spent her life as a handywoman around town, before buying the shop from the previous owner. Rosie wasn’t sure what her first name was or even anything else about her, except that she was kind as heck and had a brilliant eye for detail.
“Tell me about it,” Rosie grinned, a hand automatically resting on her bump. “I’m ready to be done, ain’t no lie.” She plopped her purse on the counter before allowing herself a little lean on the obliging cedar surface. Her back was aching something awful, and she chalked it up to all the hours the Council election had been chewing through. According to Hella, they only had two more Ordeals to get through before they were done, and the fact they had already passed through so much was a miracle. Rosie hoped they could get through the rest without a hitch and it would be the quickest Council election in the history of witches.
