Page 17 of Home Is Where the Witch Is
Tya on the other hand was calm and collected, walking with the same indomitable purpose with which she'd approached her first two Ordeals. Her shoulders were back, her spine straight, and you’d never know that her last conversation with Aata had been heated. For a woman of tiny stature in a room full of people who would rather see her rival win, she had the confidence of a champion. She nodded again to Chaoxiang as she arrived at the stage, waiting for her temporary companion to join them. When Aata approached he ignored his partner, eyes fixed only on the Council spokesperson in front of them.
“Your Ordeal will be to enter the room to your left, and to effectively neutralize the threat contained therein. You’ll need to work together, and both leave the situation unscathed. Do you accept the Ordeal?”
Rosie wondered what would happen if one of them did not accept the Ordeal. Was that even an option? After what she’d seen of Aata, she wasn’t sure she’d want to trust him with her life. but it seemed like she wasn’t about to find out—at least not with this partnership.
“I do.” Tya spoke in a crystal clear voice, inclining her head with conviction.
“I do.” Aata tensed his jaw, hands clasped in front of him in a way that accentuated the strong, bear-like quality of his massive shoulders.
“Then you may approach the chamber,” Chaoxiang said. “Once they are inside and the Ordeal begins, the room will be able to see the events unfold by way of a projection spell on the wall over there.” He gestured briefly to a large brick wall that made up the rear of the factory. It was the only wall in the place without any windows and was the facade Rosie could see of the building when looking down The Ridge from Fox Cottage’s kitchen window. Or rather, her old kitchen window.
Both witches hesitated only for a moment in front of the door Chaoxiang had directed them to, and then they disappeared inside. The wall at the back of the factory instantly shimmered with magical energy, transforming into a huge drive-in movie style projector screen. The wall was pitted brick and had been covered with whitewash some years past. Some of it had flaked of over time to give it a rustic patina that home decorators would go crazy for, if it weren’t inside a dusty old factory. But that didn’t stop Tya and Aata from being shown entering the room behind the closed door.
“Disgusting!” Rosie heard Medea gasp in her thick accent, looking to her supporters with a hatred she didn’t even bother to disguise. By contrast, Alain seemed intrigued. His head was cocked to one side as he watched the scene unfolding on the screen, his eyes growing wide with shock and horror as he noticed what Medea had seen.
A huge creature twice the size of even Aata’s hulking figure crouched in the far corner of the room the pair of witches had entered. It had the huge bulkish body of a powerful lion, but the head and face of a human man. His expression was one of pure rage; his thick brows were pulled together in a wild scowl, his lips curled back as he breathed plumes of fire. Sharp feline claws gripped the floor as though looking to gain traction for a pounce forward, and an impossibly huge scorpion tail swayed warily in the air behind the creature, stinger poised for deadly precision.
Rosie gaped at it. “What the hell isthat?”
“Manitcore,” Emperia said, clearly impressed. “I’m guessing conjured by Chaoxiang. They don’t exist in the wild anymore—haven’t for hundreds of years.”
“Thank heavens,” Rosie muttered, glad she wasn’t the one facing up to such a beast in a tiny room. She had no doubt there were magical medical professionals on standby, but she was definitely feeling more anxious about this situation by the minute.
Upon seeing the threat she and her partner were to face, Tya bent into a warrior-like crouch. Her hands were held out on either side of her as though she was ready to catch any blows that came her way, but Rosie could see the subtle crackling of electrical magic flickering between the Australian witch’s fingertips.
Her counterpart had more bravado. Aata boldly faced up to the manticore with his shoulders squared and huge arms flexed like a boxer. His stance made it clear he was on the offensive—something the creature seemed to take as a personal affront. Singling Aata out as the immediate threat, it lunged for the large witch, who dodged a flash of claws but wasn’t ready to block the swing of the manticore’s venomous sting.
Luckily, Tyawas. She sent a zap of energy at the tail that glanced off its hard glossy shell and ricocheted off the ceiling of the room before being absorbed back into the floor. While the magic hadn’t been powerful enough to harm the creature, it had managed to knock the stinger off its intended target. Aata rolled on the floor smoothly and came back into a standing position, the look on his face making it clear that the chip had been slightly dislodged from his shoulder.
“Thanks,” he said to Tya, earning him a stoic nod of acknowledgement in return.
But their interaction was cut short when the manticore let out a blood-curdling scream, throwing back its head so its dark human hair blended into the lion’s mane covering its shoulders. A plume of fire accompanied the scream. Aata threw out a hand to grab Tya, yanking her toward him and out of the way of the jet of fire before it was too late.
The excitement in the crowd was reaching intense heights. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen as they watched Aata and Tya battle it out against the manticore. Aata managed to dodge while Tya hit it with a bolt of bright green energy. Then Tya was dancing back out of the way athletically, as Aata moved in on the offense. A collective gasp went up from the onlookers when the manticore gave another harrowing scream and lunged for Tya, managing to rip open her leg with one swipe of its lethal claws. She fell to the ground with a cry of pain.
Smelling the blood seemed to completely dominate the manticore’s senses. Its blue eyes widened with interest, and it began to slowly close in on Tya as she scrambled backward to evade it. Just when it seemed as though the Australian candidate was going to meet her end, however, her partner drew his index finger across his forearm.
The magic wasn’t clearly evident at first, but after a second or two a thick line of blood appeared where the magic had sliced through Aata’s tattooed skin. It dribbled down his arm, splattering on the floor by his feet. The manticore straightened in alarm, head whipping in Aata’s direction. The new scent had captured its attention, and Aata held up his arm as though daring the creature to attack.
It was all the distraction Tya had needed. Without a moment’s hesitation she released her pent-up magical energy in the form of a flaming spear, thrusting her hands toward the creature so her spell was also pushed in that direction. The red-hot tip of the spear pierced the manticore’s chest, making it scream in pain before it wavered and then collapsed on the floor. A second later, the creature dissolved in a shower of bright white sparks and a wisp of smoke.
Applause erupted from the crowd, who were still clapping and cheering when the two candidates emerged from the room. Aata supported Tya with his good arm, while she limped along to avoid putting pressure on her injured leg. People reached out to pat both candidates on their backs, congratulating them on an exhilarating display.
Chaoxiang seemed a little surprised—or perhaps disappointed—-that they had both managed to work together and best his manticore without being more the worse for wear. But he smiled benevolently as they approached the stage, reaching out to shake each of the witches’ hands in turn.
“Well done to you both,” he declared. “You have successfully passed the Ordeal of Two Minds. The medical team is waiting backstage to treat your injuries.”
The pair hobbled off, only to be replaced by Alain and Medea. Rosie noticed the French witch seemed infinitely less sure of himself after having watched what the Australian Line candidates had been through, but Medea’s face was still a mask of cool composure.
“Very well,” Chaoxiang said glancing at the pair of them. “Do you both accept your Ordeal?”
“I do,” Alain said, the buttery French confidence in his voice wavering before he forced himself to straighten.
Medea hesitated. Though her expression gave little away, Rosie could only imagine she was wondering what she would do in a situation where she either had to rely on a half-werewolf to save her life… or save his in return. But in the end, it seemed her desire to win the Council seat won out over her personal ethos. “I do.” The pair eyed each other suspiciously as they approached the room, Rosie’s heart going out to Alain. She couldn’t imagine actually having to rely for her life on someone she knew hated her.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Alain’s ankles were captured by iron manacles that snaked up out of the floor. They fastened with audible clicks, and he yanked at them with natural panic before realizing he wasn’t strong enough physically to get out of them. Medea looked down at them, too, before a smirk settled on her lips. The expression was gone a second later as a gushing wave of what looked to be icy cold water sloshed into the room from an unseen aqueduct.
The freezing temperature took both witches’ breaths away, and they gasped in unison as more and more water began to fill the room. But where Medea could float on the turbulent rising tide, Alain was fixed firmly by his shackles. The water covered his knees, then his waist, before passing his chest. The French witch struggled to push up onto his tiptoes, keeping his nose above the waterline as long as he could, taking one huge gulp of air before he was completely submerged.
