Witch, Wolf, Woods

CHAPTER 16: SPELL-BREAKING SURPRISE

After double-checking that her bedroom door was locked tight and applying a silencing spell for additional privacy, Katja took a deep breath and settled into a cross-legged position on the floor, grateful for the thick rug protecting against the chill of the flagstones.

Placing the book with the spell for creating a Helferin in front of her, she carefully undid the necklace. Her neck felt oddly bare without the weight of the jewelry, and she touched the spot below her throat where the wolf usually rested.

Then, cradling the wolf pendant in one hand, she picked up the parchment containing the deciphered spells. She wasn't entirely sure about the pronunciation of some marks, but thankfully she had also drawn the sigils and could picture them in her mind to aid wherever her lack of language fell short.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

"This is it, Wolf!" she whispered excitedly, letting the symbols composing the first layer of spells fill her mind.

The golden marks flowed easily across her eyes as she spoke their names, some individually, some in combinations of two or three. Even though the first layer was the easiest to remove, her entire body thrilled with delight as she watched the marks shudder, then dim until they disappeared altogether.

One layer down, but of course, it would only get more difficult from here.

She made it through the first four levels without too much trouble, then found herself needing to concentrate harder to remove the fifth layer of spells. The sixth layer contained increasingly complex chains of spells that required her to link them before moving them aside to make room for more symbols.

It was only after she'd successfully removed the sixth layer that she realized she was sweating, and by the time she'd fought her way through the seventh layer, she was shaking, the sweat having dried and chilled her.

Katja said the words to increase the temperature in her room and was shocked to find herself swaying where she sat, ears ringing, after casting what should have been a very simple spell. She hadn't anticipated clearing the spells from the necklace would take so much out of her.

Slumping forward, she rested her elbows against her knees, allowing herself a brief moment of respite.

Just a little longer and it will all be worth it, she assured herself. Her back was starting to hurt from sitting so long, and she stretched her neck from one shoulder to the other before repositioning herself and looking back at the parchment, then closing her eyes.

Arriving at the eighth layer of spells felt like falling into a dark pit with no bottom...she fell endlessly, marks speeding past, just beyond her grasp, unwilling to be brought into any kind of order, careening wildly in different directions.

Rather than allowing herself to feel overwhelmed, Katja simply identified the first sigil and then the second and then the third, slowly forcing the marks to align. It felt like what she imagined pushing a large boulder up the side of a mountain might be like, or trying to force countless separate streams of water to join together into one united river.

The chain of sigils faltered, and Katja ground her teeth, grasping the necklace tighter. She would have her wolf companion. She could do this. Imagining the marks to be made of gold seemed to help, her natural affinity for metal aiding her, and eventually, chest rising and falling, she watched the sigils shudder and disintegrate.

Katja fell forward, bracing her hand against the rug to steady herself. She felt light-headed, as if she'd waited too long to eat, and her heart was pounding so loud, it was the only thing she could hear.

Slowly opening the fist cradling the necklace, she stared down at the wolf, as much for encouragement as to allow herself a break. What could possibly require so many spells?

A small voice in the back of her mind suggested perhaps she didn't want to find out and ought to consider stopping, but Katja quickly pushed the thought aside. She hadn't come this far to stop now. Besides, the necklace was so small, it couldn't contain anything truly dangerous—she hoped. But unless she successfully broke the ninth layer of spells, she would never know.

Sitting up straight, Katja let her thoughts go where she only rarely allowed them, hoping they would provide the strength she needed to continue.

She thought of how alone she felt, all the nights she cried herself to sleep wishing she had someone to talk to, all the time she spent alone in her workroom, how she'd never fit in with the other Hexen, how she'd never known her mother and had no idea who her father was.

The ninth layer of spells was the only thing standing between her and a friend, and even a conjured friend was better than eternal loneliness.

Resolve flowed through her. Katja squeezed her eyes shut, her will as unbreakable as the strongest metal, and then she flung herself headlong into the ninth layer of spells, naming them, summoning them, linking them, glowing sigils caught in the current of her control as she sought to break through the last and final layer.

Unlike in the other layers, though, the spells here fought back, wrenching themselves out of her grasp, shifting places, dimming and then brightening, trying to distract her into loosening her mental grip. This was old magic, far older than any other spell she'd ever encountered on an object.

Her face contorted into a grimace of determination, and Katja tightened her grasp around the wolf pendant, throwing every bit of her strength into the final mark, linking it with the writhing chain of sigils with a loud grunt before mentally grabbing the cornerstone and pulling.

As if a thousand stars began to burn before her eyes, the marks grew brighter, turning from gold to pure white. A loud crack rang out, startling Katja so much she jumped where she sat, although she dared not open her eyes and ruin her work.

The white sigils trembled, but rather than simply disappearing, they exploded, a firework show so dazzling she wished her eyes weren't already shut so she could close them against the glare.

A howl rang out inside her head, causing the hair on Katja's neck to rise. This wasn't the howl of a wolf singingly lovingly to a full moon...this was a wild, primal cry, a mixture of sorrow and rage that immediately made her stomach twist and her limbs go cold.

And then something warm blew against her face, causing her to gasp and open her eyes, only to find herself nose-to-nose with an exceptionally large wolf—not the magical pet she had hoped to create, but a living, breathing wolf...with paws nearly the size of her hands...and thick black and silver fur...and glowing amber eyes.

It shouldn't have been possible but there before her stood the groBe böse Wolf—the Witch Killer of the Schwarzwald.

(Artwork by Nidan from Pixabay)