Dance of the Moons

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

            The potion was icy cold in my mouth—despite its warm feel in my palm—and felt like slime as it slid down my throat.  The little vial was only one gulp filled, but it was unpleasant nonetheless.  I re-corked the empty bottle and slid it into my pocket, secure against the other vial which was still full.

            The clearing behind Jaquie’s house, my dad said.  Jacquie lived a few miles away, closer to the edge of town than we were.  I had no other way to get there except to transport myself.  While I knew I could do this, I had only ever done it accidentally.  Exhaling shakily, I closed my eyes and concentrated.  I pictured the clearing, the exact spot I wanted to be.  I imagined myself stepping onto the soil.  I felt a strong tug, and fell down on grass.

            My eyes opened, and I was exactly where I wanted to be.  The sun was not quite rising in the east, and the brisk chill caught me by surprise.  I ignored it.  Making a mental note to celebrate my achievement later, I pushed off the ground and ran toward the clearing.  In the middle was a large wall of red and blue flames.  They reached about ten feet high and flickered wildly.  I couldn’t feel the heat coming off of them, but I knew if one were to touch the flames they would burn; this was Witches’ Fire.  I couldn’t see through the wall, but there was a solid looking lump in the middle of the ring that I knew was David.

            I looked around quickly to make sure no one was standing guard.  Witches had a habit of being overconfident of their magically constructed prisons.  No one but a witch could break through them. There was no one from my coven in the clearing. 

            Standing four feet from the fire wall, I held out my hand, palm facing the flames.  I tested the strength of the wall by pushing at it with air.  The flames flared up, stronger.  I took a deep breath and tried to remember everything I knew about Witches’ Fire.  Water made it stronger and ashes made it burn for longer.  When it formed a ring it was best to break it from the four directions—north, south, east, and west—at the same time.  Since I did not have three other witches with me, however, I would have to choose one corner.  I couldn’t remember which was the strongest when dealing with Witches’ Fire, so I chose north.  North is the direction of freedom.

            I walked around so I was at the northern most point of the ring.  Raising my hand again, I concentrated on cutting the ring.  At first, nothing happened; then, the fire began turning purple and red and spitting out heat at me.  Taking this to be a good sign, I pushed harder, willing the air to be a knife.  I could feel the power in the flames.  It tugged at me, fought me.  I pushed harder, and after a minute the wall began to break.

            It started in the middle, a small hole large enough to fit only a tennis ball through.  But I grabbed at it with air, and ripped open the rest of the way.  The fire raged for a minute, hissing and spitting, before the purple flames turned yellow and the heat disappeared.  The opening was small, but still large enough to fit through.  The yellow flames set, and I dropped my hand.  I had to concentrate to keep the fire wall open, but it would take less effort now.  Without hesitation, I scrambled through the hole and into the ring.

            “David!” I gasped when I saw him lying naked on the ground.  I ran over to him and touched his face.  It was cold and clammy.  His skin was painted with bruises, the discolored blotches like polka dots.  I held my hand over his forehead and tried to take an inventory of his injuries, but failed.  I hadn’t really done much Healing and I was expelling too much energy trying to keep the wall open.

            “David,” I called again, “c’mon, wake up.  We need to get out of here.”

            I lightly slapped his cheek.  He grunted and shifted his head but didn’t wake.