Page 80 of Pirate Witch
Just when I think my head will split open from pain, the lone, desolate rock which is Fort Sole finally looms on the horizon. Our collective relief strengthens our resolve, and we head for it with a grim kind of focus. This won’t be easy, and we all know it. Fort Sole is operated by prisoners, just like the Claw was. Hundreds of them will die, along with over a thousand soldiers.
I can only console myself with the knowledge that—like in the Claw and Ignira—captivity will have stripped most of them of their humanity. Their souls were lost long ago in the darkness beneath the earth. I say a prayer for them as we finally angle downwards, shooting toward the squat fort on the rock like destruction personified. At the very last second, we pull away from the power, leaving it to follow its inevitable course.
The boom which erupts as the moonlight hits stone is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. The island Fort Sole sits on crumples in on itself like paper.
The mine is annihilated. The very bones of the island are dragged down into the pit and swallowed by the ocean. When it’s over, there’s nothing left. Fort Sole no longer exists.
We linger for several precious seconds, ensuring our task is done, before allowing ourselves to follow the ropes of consciousness and the steady beat of the drums back to our physical bodies.
I open my eyes to chaos. My mind is so strung out that I can’t seem to get to grips with being back in my own body again. It’s like I’ve come back to myself, only to find my physical form is now a strange place which doesn’t make sense anymore.
My ears are useless. I can’t hear anything over the ringing in them. Above us, the golden dome is gone—our protection destroyed—and only fragments of it remain, glimmering in the air like embers. I force myself to my knees and stare at the battle in shock. Our harems are defending us, and the Solars have retreated to the inside of the circle, helping the wounded as best they can. I can pick out Elsie, with her glowing hair, as she heals one of Danika’s men. She’s crying, tears rolling down her cheeks as she works, but she hasn’t given up.
A hand grips my shoulder. Danika.
My oldest friend is yelling in my face, but I can’t hear her. It takes me several long blinks until I can focus enough to string her words together.
“Crystal,” I mumble, and the ringing in my ears grows even worse, like it’s punishing me for speaking.
I fumble with the straps of my pouch, drawing out the small, luminous hunk of rock. I’m so unsteady that I almost drop it in my haste to tap it.
“Acelin,” I call, tapping it a second time.
The effect is instantaneous. Mist flows out of the stone in a soft, fluffy blanket, carpeting the floor, and the wraith king himself bursts forward. His red eyes take in the scene around us with sombre curiosity and he eventually turns back to me with a solemn nod.
“We will uphold our end of the bargain.” I don’t hear Acelin’s words. They travel right through me, into my very bones.
More mist pours from the crystal, spreading beyond the boundaries of our circle, making everyone stop in their tracks as more spectral wraith forms erupt from it. Long claws and longer fangs clicking menacingly as they hiss and screech.
“The men in red uniforms,” I whisper. “They serve the Queen.”
Acelin bows again to me. “Then we will paint this world with their blood.”
In a rush of cold that sweeps through me, the wraiths disappear. Elsie takes Acelin’s place in front of me, laying hands coated in gold light on either side of my head.
My hearing returns in a rush. As if my soul has been roughly forced back into my body and locked down by her power.
I wish she hadn’t done it.
Because now I can hear their screams.
CASIMIR
I know it makes me a shit mate, but I lose sight of Nilsa the second the Solars’ iron spears fracture and their shield begins to falter. I push through the crowd—away from our mate—and toward the front line, drawing my cutlass as I ready myself to take up the mantle of protecting the gathered witches. Plenty of people here are doing the same. Some of them are part of a Lunar’s harem, like us; others are just supernatural members of the community who’ve volunteered. EvenCooperis gingerly carrying a sword.
It’s been hours since the Lunars went into that weird trance, and in that time, it feels like the entire royal army has assembled around this tiny part of Coveton. Fuck, they’ve even taken cannons from their ships and started firing them at the Solars, all in an effort to break that golden barrier protecting them. Up close, the noise is deafening. So much so that some of the Solars have started healing shattered eardrums already.
We knew the witches wouldn’t be able to hold out forever. Now it’s our turn.
The first spear shatters like it’s made of glass, creating a gap. The Solar who was holding it is tugged behind a defensive line of sword-wielding humans before she can come to harm. Another Solar steps in to plug the gap before they can take advantage. This one doesn’t have a spear like the first, and her power emanates from her hands rather than the metal. The second she gets into position, another spear breaks.
There’s only so many Solars who can plug up the holes. The original spear-holders are exhausted, and their replacements are obviously less powerful. All of us beneath the golden dome are forced to watch as, piece by piece, it starts to fade. Until only the Solar high priestesses are left to hold the thing together. Even I know that’s not a good use of their power.
On some silent signal, the four powerful Solar women drop the shield all together. Familiars roar forward, chasing through the ranks as they switch from their smaller forms into huge, angry big cats. Most of them are panthers, not tigers like Opal. Nilsa’s familiar is larger—unique among the others with her striped silver fur—and I know that’s going to make her a target.
Shit, now we have to protect the cat as well as our witch.
The cats go for the humans operating the cannons, ripping into their flesh as they do their best to put the destructive weapons out of action.
