First Witch's Tale

My mind raced. It was not in me to give up. There had to be a way out. I tried to recall what I had seen and come up with a plan. The magic had followed the blood, hadn’t it? Perhaps if I got the blood off Cemburu’s body the thing would be dislodged and sent back to wherever it found it. Perhaps … I couldn’t think of a way to do it. My body ached, a grim reminder that I would tire and eventually fall. The thing didn’t seem to have any sense it could tire. Cemburu hadn’t been the fittest person in the world, but the thing could drive him on until he dropped dead. Or … I recalled the old tales, the ones rarely told to children, about men who’d been hag-ridden. It was possible he could be driven on forever.

I heard something rustling in the undergrowth, a moment before a swarm of rodents rushed at me. It wasn’t uncommon, in a heavy rainstorm, but here … I barely had a second to realise I was under attack before they started swarming me, teeth nibbling at my clothes. I grabbed for the nearest tree and scrambled up as fast as I could, kicking out at the more persistent rodents as they tried to bite me. I thanked all the gods I had worn my regular clothes, rather than school robes. They were tough enough to provide some protection. And yet, some of the rats were still clinging on. I gasped in pain as one of them bit its way into my skin. I could feel the blood welling up and dripping to the ground.

The thing laughed as I grabbed the rodent and yanked it free. It struggled in my hand, but I was a past master at holding small animals so they could neither escape nor bite me. I could feel the laughter hanging in the air, a cold unpleasant sound that made it clear the thing was toying with me. It didn’t have to hunt me down in a hurry. It was just enjoying itself, flexing its power before it went onwards. And yet … I scrambled from tree as the thing came into view. It was hard to be sure, because it was still hard look at it directly, but I had the impression that Cemburu’s body was starting to break down. The thing was expending impossible levels of magic. Was it drawing on Cemburu’s body to power its magic? Or … what was I missing?

A wild thought shot through me as the thing stopped beneath the first tree. It used blood to transfer magic. Cemburu had use his own blood as part of the summoning rite. And now it was in the position to pick up my blood and use it … I tried not to panic as I realised what it could do. Curse me, control me, ride my blood into my body … I wondered, suddenly, if it would take any better care of my body than it had of Cemburu’s. It could possess me and walk straight into the castle, with no one any the wiser. I shuddered to think what it could do inside the school. If no one knew it was wearing my face, it could get close to one of the tutors and then … they wouldn’t recognise the threat. How could they? I was a very junior student. I was no threat to them. But if the thing wore my face …

I briefly considered suicide. I could jump from a high tree and hit the ground hard enough to kill me, but that would be the end. I didn’t like the idea of killing myself. And besides, the thing had enough control over the trees to twist the world around me and make sure I didn’t actually die. My blood seemed to grow warm, just for a moment, a disconcerting feeling that felt worse than my father’s belt. I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t so much painful as fundamentally wrong. I could barely focus my mind as the heat grew stronger. I realised, numbly, that the thing was trying to possess me. I could feel it forcing its way into me. It whispered seductive sweet nothings into my mind, promises of everything I could ever want if I surrendered and let it take control. Perhaps I would have believed it, if I hadn’t seen what it had done to Cemburu. It might keep its promises, perhaps, but not in the way I wanted.

The old stories echoed through my head. There was always a sting in the tail.

GET OUT, I thought as hard as I could. I was screaming inside, but it felt like a whisper. My mouth refused to work. I could feel the creature pressing down on me. It was huge and strong and I was so tiny and weak. The thought weakened my resolution. I forced myself to scream again. GET OUT.

My hands jerked. I lost my grip on the tree branch and fell. The presence in my mind drew back sharply as I plummeted to the ground. I had a moment to realise it was scared before I caught hold of another branch and slowed my fall, just enough to land roughly but safely. I nearly let go of the rat. The thing hovered at the back of my mind, yet made no attempt to take advantage of my pain. I wondered if it was nervous about entering a suffering mind. Perhaps it wasn’t used to human pain. Or at least to being on the receiving end.