Wicked Hunt

Chapter Eleven, Part VI

Victoria: Rosemary, Thyme, and Wolfenite

"Here." Her mother's raspy voice drew her eyes back to the open book on the floor. Victoria bent down to see the smudged pages better. She didn't know how Gemma was going to see the spell they needed, but she had faith in her mother. There was a time when she was not blind, years ago. The Grimoire resided in an ancient alcove by Gemma's room, released by a spell only she knew. The tome had been retrieved hundreds of times. Victoria wouldn't be surprised if her mother had the whole thing memorized by now.

There were hundreds of spells, incantations, potion recipes, and chants inside the Grimoire. Many of them were thousands of years old, passed down from generation to generation. Each witch coven had their own book, each one special and unlike the other two. There were spells in the Drake Grimoire that were not in the Streamling one, and vice versa.

            "What does it say?" Jillian's brows furrowed as she tried to read.

            Gemma placed a wrinkled finger upon the first line of text. "Victoria." Her finger tapped impatiently on the worn page, her milky eyes staring ahead blankly.

Victoria cleared her throat. "A banishing spell," she read. "Use this ancient chant to banish that which others can't." She glanced at the spreading cold behind her. "Is this the right one?"

"It calls for blood," Gemma stated simply, drumming her fingers in impatience. Victoria continued to skim the page, and Gemma smacked her forcibly on the shoulder. "There's no time."

"Get a knife," Jillian urged, glancing at Gemma, a gleam of hope flickering in her cool stare. Victoria scowled as Gemma nodded.

Glancing at the door, Victoria quickly jerked the handle open. A cold fog smacked her in the face, gripping her throat, and stopping her breath. Her hand covered her nose, and she carefully stepped inside. A darkness so dense sat heavily in her room. It changed the feeling completely. Gone was the comfort, replaced by wickedness.

Gingerly, Victoria moved around the strange space that had once been familiar. I'm never sleeping in here again, she thought, even if this damn darkness is banished, and I have a dozen windows made!

She padded over to her dresser. The glass from the shattered mirror crunched noisily beneath her feet. The noise was deafening as the blackness stifled nearly all sound unless an object was provoked. A quick glance at the bent from of her mirror sent a chill skidding down her spine.

"Quickly!" Gemma hissed from beyond the threshold of the doorway, and Victoria frantically threw the top drawer opened, scooting various shreds of fabric and trinkets aside until she found the small lever at the bottom of the drawer. It was lifted hastily, the slight groan in the underused metal workings made Gemma shake her head. "You don't take it out often?"

"There's never been a need," Victoria protested, slipping the wooden box out of the secret compartment. She opened it, her fingers shaking slightly, and unwrapped the sheer fabric within. The sharp edge of a dagger peered up at her, revealing her sunken in eyes and pale face in its shiny blade. The handle curved up, in a coiled green snake. It was painted vibrantly with light beige on the underside of its belly and emerald gems for eyes. The blade itself was serrated and curved like the fang of a great serpent, its length only stretching about eight inches.

"Is it sharp?" Gemma remarked dryly as Victoria made her way back out into the hall. She forgot to close the door in her haste. It loomed open behind her, a black hole peering into an abyss.

"It is," Victoria shot back irritably. Fang, as it was lovingly called, had been passed down from all the Drake women to be used in rituals and for the cutting of herbs. The other Covens held onto similar items. However, Victoria thought it much too valuable for mundane things like that, so she kept it hidden for most of the time.

"Bring it here," Gemma snapped. Jillian's eyes widened, and Victoria crouched down beside her mother once more. Fang was snatched from Victoria's fingers. Gemma ran her finger over the tip of the dagger, testing its sharpness. When she was satisfied with it, she turned it over and gripped the handle, her bony fingers covering the serpent's glowing eyes.

"Jillian," Gemma said, holding out her free hand. Jillian scooted closer, extending her palm to Gemma.

Suddenly, the window blew open wildly beyond the open door, knocking over a chair and flinging the sheets back from the bed. Victoria jumped to her feet and ran to shut it. The lock had been bent. The sun, which had just risen only recently, had disappeared behind the clouds once more.

"Shut the window!" Gemma bellowed, and Victoria struggled with the force of the wind. "Force him out!"

Summoning all her energy, Victoria shoved the window closed. Her fingers stretched the expanse of the glass. Some invisible being seemed to beat on the outside, trying to force its way inside. She struggled with the lock, digging her fingernail into the clasp and bending it so that it was curved correctly once more. She latched the window and stepped back, panting. A loud thud smacked the window again, but she hurried over to Gemma. "Do it!" Victoria shrieked in a panic. The light outside her window seemed to disappear. The banging on the glass got louder and more violent. The air around them got thicker, and Gemma began coughing again. The Thyme blew up and hit the wall.

Jillian gasped as Gemma cut into her palm, feeling with her deft fingers for the wound. Blood trickled greedily from the gash.

She's cut her too deep, Victoria thought as she gazed at Jillian's ashy face. "Mother, here." She tried to swipe Fang from Gemma's hand, but Gemma pulled away. "Let me," Victoria urged.

"Just give me your hand," Gemma said. The window blew back open again, sending the lock flying in several pieces behind Victoria's head. A sinister hum began infiltrating the air around them. Something black trickled from the mirror now. "Now!" Gemma urged.

Victoria's hand was grabbed roughly and cut severely. "Damn it!" Victoria shrieked. You've made the cut too deep!"

"More blood is required of you for a spell of this magnitude," Gemma protested, turning the blade on her own hand and biting her lip when it dug into her palm. Her fair hair flew up and wrapped about her forehead, shielding her eyes. The wind was cold, so frigid that it was becoming painful.

"What now? What words-" Jillian began, but the hum droned louder, blocking out her voice.

"We call forth the-" Victoria began, but the room got very black suddenly, and she could hardly read was before her. Thick, inky fog emanated from outside her window, drawing up through the wicked wind and forcing itself through the opening. The glass shards from the mirror almost looked like they were glowing on the floor, turning the same chilling crimson as those dark, evil eyes. The eyes of the Black Stag.

The air was so dense now it was hard to breath. Victoria felt very heavy as she tried to take a deep breath but could not draw any of the air in. Her lungs constricted, and she struggled to breath. Beside her, Jillian fell, her head hitting the stone floor with a startling finality. Her hand laid out at an odd angle beside her, blood pulsing from Fang's bite. Victoria blinked but could hardly keep her eyes open.

Those eyes. Those crimson eyes.

She fell then, her cheek colliding with the sharp glass on the ground, the visage of a leering stag.