Page 61 of Magic and Medicine

‘What about your captives, my Lord?’ he tilted his head, pointing toward Rostov’s soldiers.

Maybe in different circumstances, I would hesitate or show them mercy, but their treatment of the shifters, of the sirens, left no room in my heart for leniency and without Sara there to brighten my darkness, I took great satisfaction in giving Tomasz a measure of justice.

‘Show them the same grace they offered your fallen comrades, and get rid of the bodies, except for the one willing to speak up. He will show me the way to the gate,’ I said, grabbing the poor fool and leaving the soldiers to Tomasz and his men.

With the mercenary on his toes, nearly dangling from my fierce grip, I headed back toward the last place I saw Sara, but the soldier began pointing the way without prompting, realising his fate with fatalistic acceptance.

‘My Lord!’ The witch I’d sent to find Sara rushed up, and I smiled, her pale countenance showing how frightening my visage was. ‘My Lord, I found something, a message on the wind.’

The wind? I frowned, looking at the woman, only now realising the rising breeze kept tugging my mane. ‘Thank you, now go, death treads on my heels this day,’ I said, giving the witch my warning in gratitude and then ignoring her, closing my eyes to concentrate on the breeze pressing against my senses.

She is in the old temple. Hurry!

Yes, I could decipher this message. The whisper of the wind, the words, and Stribog’s voice urging me to come. The old temple meant my father and Makosz would be there, and who knew how many more? The gods and guardians, so much more powerful than myself, even now when I was nearly whole, had Sara, and they might not let me take her back.

‘The gate, now!’ I snarled, and the mercenary led me to a room glowing with magic and amber tainted with the blood of innocent victims.

I ignored the scraps of flesh and bone crudely spread over the altar’s surface, dashing into the darkness behind it, trying to sense the Nether. The passage meandered and branched several times, but I pushed forward, unaware of the walls tightening around me, the rock scraping my skin. The doors were closing, but I still detected the lingering feminine scent. Sara, my Sara, was here. I hit the wall in frustration.

‘Damn it!’ I hit the wall again, my knuckles scraping over the stone, sparks flashing at the contact with my blood. Jurata’s spell was fading, the ground closing in around me, but I pushed my magic outwards, determined to prevent the enchantment from failing, roots and stones becoming fluid, bending to my will and creating intricate runes that formed a misshapen doorframe. I tore jaggedly into my forearm, hissing as blood flowed and, muttering a quiet incantation, smeared the fresh blood into the writing.

The stone shone with an eerie light, and I pushed forward, the light exploding into bright sunlight that blinded me. Fresh, clean air filled my lungs with pure, life-giving energy. Shouts and orders followed, and I noticed several doors bursting open to disgorge warriors of the Nether, half-crazed humans driven mad by their existence in the magical realm, sent to battle a god of the old world who wielded power as easily as breathing.

Now, they served Gedania and were determined to prevent my unannounced passage. I looked up at the old temple, still proudly standing on the top of the hill, and roared before leaping forward, claws lashing out indiscriminately. Death was a mercy for those lost to the corruption of magic, releasing their souls to Nawia to end their suffering.

I felt no remorse for my brutality, using every weapon in my arsenal, clawed hands and feet, antlers that impaled, tossing bodies away like toys. These remnants were between me and my destiny, my love, and nothing would keep me from her side.

It was a never-ending tide of death and destruction, but I drew closer to the temple step by step, leaving a trail of blood and gore in my wake. My roar as I smashed through the doors was answered with silence, the tide of crazed warriors disappearing as I stalked forward, searching for Sara. When I finally saw her body surrounded by Stribog’s magic, I nearly attacked again until sense returned, and I remembered his message.

I glanced at Stribog. He sent the message and was protecting her. That was a debt I may never be able to repay. Sara stepped toward me, calling me by that silly pet name. Her mind and body were intact, and only now, hearing her voice, did I worry about her seeing me like this. I was bloody and covered in lumps of flesh. Gone was the sophisticated man I wanted the world to see. Instead, in front of her stood the savage beast humans still see in their nightmares. What if she rejects this part of me? I thought but still reached for her, trembling when she flew into my arms, pressing her body to mine. Finally, the world snapped back into place, and I could think again.

I searched her for injuries but, to my relief, found none. Sara’s hand on my chest grounded me. Even after learning that Jurata wanted Sara’s death, I kept my rage at bay, but my calm and focus cost me dearly. My father’s chains pinned me down, and I could only watch helplessly as the bitch I once loved choked the life out of my woman. I fought against my restraints, shadows biting my flesh. My father stopped Jurata, but it was Sara who freed me.

Sara looked at me and then surrendered herself to free me. She loved her life and her work, but this beautiful soul didn’t hesitate to pledge herself to such a terrible fate. I’d never known such soul-searing love, and with that feeling came real freedom as the chains fell away, crumbling into nothingness.

I glanced at Veles, who seemed as surprised as I, but before he could react, Dola, the weaver of fate, wielder of the scissors that could end any being’s destiny, entered the chamber. Older than time, the unyielding Guardian of the Cosmic Order rarely visited the Council, yet here she was.

Everyone bowed except for Sara, who dived to her knees, prostrating herself, pleading for us, and even knowing it wouldn’t change anything, I was proud she was willing to fight till the end. Just when I thought all was lost, the Weaver of Fate spoke in our favour, and I didn’t wait. I grabbed Sara and ran from the wretched place as fast as possible. She’d asked me to take her home, and that’s precisely what I would do.

We burst through the gateway near the docks. I cradled Sara in my arms, happy to breathe the grimy fog of the port. I hastily threw a glamour over us, making sure no one saw my shifted body. I was shaking, unable to believe my luck. Dola’s judgement was final, and neither Veles nor Svarog could contradict her. Sara was mine, and as soon as we sorted out the issue with Rostov, I would tell her what this meant for us.

‘Are you alright?’ She asked, stroking my hair when I pushed my nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. Sara’s smell, a mixture of coffee and cinnamon bun, calmed my senses.

‘I thought I’d lost you, and it broke me.’ I said, realising I had to call Adam and Tomasz and shift back to my human form, then wash off all the blood and grime that coated my body.

‘We can’t let that happen, now can we, Wolfie? I’m good, but I can’t mend broken hearts. I promise I’ll always return to you, even if it’s only for a free caramel latte.’ She jested, and I rolled my eyes before putting her feet on the ground.

‘Stag or wolf?’ I asked, observing with amusement how her eyebrows drew closer. ‘What mode of transport would my Lady wish to ride on her way home? The Stag or the Wolf?’ I said with a mischievous smile.

‘I think it will be a brief ride if someone notices me galloping toward the sunset on the back of a stag, and then we’ll both end up in a mental institution. You for claiming to be god and me for claiming to ride a god.’

‘No one will see us, my love, the perks of having Divine Power. So, decide, or I will choose because I must go home and wash this blood off before it dries.’

‘So the perks don’t include dry cleaning for the pelt?’ Sara asked, and I roared with laughter. ‘Stag, I want to ride the stag.’ It took me a split second to transform before kneeling for my Firefly to mount.

‘That is so bloody bizarre. What should I hold on to? Your neck? Your antlers?’ She asked, and I arched toward her, waiting till she figured it out before I bounded toward my island.

With my strength renewed by Sara’s magic and the visit to the Nether, it didn’t take me long to get home, even with her hands wrapped so tight around my neck that she almost choked me. When we stopped, Sara slid off, crouching on the driveway and taking long, slow breaths.

---