Cursed

8. Tatiana Betrays Again

8. Tatiana Betrays Again

Tatiana was incredibly impatient to put her ingenious plan into action. She had practiced over and over transporting a single drop of water to the chambers of fire and back again so as not to arouse suspicion. She was as ready as she ever would be and she felt as if she would explode if she did not get her chance soon.

Her chance came when her sister was called away on official Witchdom business. Miranda thought nothing of leaving her sister alone for a few days, she had left her alone for years at a time in the past and had no way of knowing that this time would be any different. So she kissed her sister on the cheek and was gone.

Tatiana's breath quickened and her heart sped. No mortal would have been able to perceive these differences and while an immortal should have immediately, Miranda was not suspicious in the least. She was much too caught up in the grander matters of the Witchdom to notice a thing about her petty little sister. Normally this would have greatly upset Tatiana, jealous as she was of other matters that hogged her sister's attention from herself, but not tonight.

What if her plan did not work? Oh but it had to work, it was flawless. But then so was the last plan and look hence that got her. She bit into her little finger and winced as she cut through her own skin, drawing blood. She squeezed out a single drop and let it fall to the ground by her feet. She stared at it and concentrated with all she had to make that little drop slide across the floor and slip under the door.

She guided it with her mind through the Witchdom though she could no longer see it. She continued to focus as it slid down deeper and deeper into the chambers of fire until finally it reached the chamber she needed to open. She willed the drop to glide up the doorsill and into the lock.

Then there was nothing left to do but wait.

“I believe this belongs to you,” said a silky male voice. Tatiana looked up at the warlock who had appeared before her. His hand was outstretched to her, a single drop of blood sitting in the very center of his palm.

“Are you Noctur?” asked Tatiana, just to make sure.

“That I am,” he bowed his head low and his strikingly white hair fell over his wide shoulders. His eyes were an impossible shade of purple and his chin was sharp as a spear. Tatiana understood how her sister could have fallen for him so easily.

“And might you be the lovely witch who has freed me?” said he.

“That is I, Tatiana,” she bowed her head as well and her mass of blonde curls flew about her face attractively, just the way she had told them to in her mind.

“My, I remember when you were a mere hundred years old,” he smiled and his purple eyes twinkled at what he said next, “I always knew you would grow to surpass your sister in beauty.” Tatiana blushed as witches rarely do but would not waste their time further.

“As much as I do enjoy it, I did not release you to be flattered,” said she, all business, “as you can see, I am bound here,” she lifted her hands to show off her cuffs and chains, “My sentence is as of now eternity, to be reevaluated in 400 years. I do not wish to remain in chains for another 400 years, let alone eternity. would you do me the same favor I have done you?” The powerful warlock held the chains in his hands, feeling and testing them. Yes, he could free her and it would not be difficult, but why not gain something more out of this naïve little witch before giving her her greatest desire?

“My deepest sympathies,” he bowed his head low yet again and played a frown across his lips, “It seems I have not the power to free you as of this very moment. After all, I have been imprisoned for hundreds of years.”

“Will you ever?” her face fell and her childishness threatened to show.

“Not before your reevaluation, I'm afraid. Unless... no never mind,” he shook his head and headed for the door.

“Unless what?” cried Tatiana.

“No, no, you would never agree to it,” Noctur turned his head back to her briefly.

“Perhaps I would,” she pleaded. He came back to her and held her hands tenderly in his.

“Sacrifice one of your dear sister's spells?” It was absolutely forbidden. The third law among The Ten Laws of Witchdom said that no witch shall ever sacrifice another's spell. This was decided upon thousands of years ago. No existing witch remembers a time without it.
She herself was locked up for breaking the tenth law, never go against a collective decision of the Witchdom. If her sentence was imprisonment for eternity, imagine what it would be if she were to break the third law.

Then again, what had she to lose? She was already doomed to spend eternity in these bloody chains. The worst they could do was sentence her to the Chambers of Fire. Noctur had been there, and he seemed fine to her.

“I would.”

“Good,” he nodded, clearly satisfied with himself, “now can you tell me of any spell of Miranda's that is still in effect on Earth?” Tatiana remembered the boy Miranda had taken a liking to, the one she had cursed to the appearance of a beast for eternity. The irony of the similarities in the punishment she was enduring and the curse the boy was living with was not lost on her. She nodded her head at Noctur, “Then you mustn't let it be broken before I get to it.”