Chapter 3
Theodora smiled knowingly at me before she raised her hand into the air and placed it on my forehead.
“It would be better if I simply showed you,” she whispered.
As she pressed her hand against my skin, the room quickly darkened, and my entire body grew ice cold. My head throbbed as if a thousand needles were prickling at my skull, and soon, the entire office vanished before my eyes. My body twisted and turned through realms and time, and then, I found myself standing on the edge of a cliff with a steel-gray sky above me. Below me, a ferocious ocean beat against jagged, towering rocks, and the thunderous waves echoed and pounded against my eardrums as a bitter and frosty wind bit into my skin.
“Where the hell am I?” I wondered aloud.
As I stood on the precipice and gazed upon the unwavering sea storm, I thought I could hear a chorus of voices echoing behind me. They were gradually growing louder, and when I whipped around, I saw a dozen wooden stakes, all situated in a perfect line with piles of hay and wood mounted at the bottom. Then high-pitched screams pierced the air, and their chorus of cries echoed in harmony with the howling and savage wind.
My heart sank immediately at the sight of the stakes and the sound of screams because I knew they only meant one thing.
Execution.
I stood still and strained my eyes to see what laid beyond the wooden stakes, but all I could make out was a thick fog that veiled my view. The wisps of silver mist curved around me like hazy snakes, and the air was heavy with the smell of rotting, putrid flesh. As the screams grew louder, I could make out a cluster of dim figures emerging from the fog and gradually coming closer, and when they were just a few feet away, I realized they were a group of cloaked men swinging censers and chanting a haunting melody as they neared the row of stakes. Several men were carrying giant white flaming candles, and behind them, a line of women with their wrists bound tightly by thick coils of rope were dragged mercilessly by the rusty chains around their necks. Each collar was engraved with multiple crosses, and I could see the women’s raw skin sweltering and festering as they were yanked forward by these holy, cloaked men.
“You would do well to release us,” shrieked a woman with long, greasy black hair, “and if you don’t, your king will suffer greatly for this. I swear by Satan his unborn child will bear the mark of our wrath and vengeance! This is your last chance to see reason. Let us go, and your kingdom will remain in a state of peace and serenity.”
“Shut your filthy, whore mouth,” called out a voice that didn’t belong to any cloaked men. “Your fate has already been set into stone, heathen bitch.”
I searched for the source of the harsh, unforgiving voice, and my eyes fell upon a tall, robustly built man, garbed in heavy furs and fine silks, marching past the captive women. He bore a golden crown on the top of his dark, close-cropped hair, and his face was withered from age. His soulless, black, and bloodthirsty eyes were filled with rage, and when he stared right through me, as if I were nothing but floating particles of dust hovering through the air, I knew for certain no one could see me.
“Make sure these heathen women suffer greatly,” the man hissed to one of the cloaked figures. “I want the entire kingdom to hear their screams. I want them to cry out in agony, and I want their voices to carry over the sound of the raging sea.”
“Yes, my king,” a hooded man responded with a deep bow.
“My love,” said a feminine voice from behind the king, “do you believe the gods will be grateful for this bounty?”
When the king stood aside, a beautiful woman with long, strawberry-blonde hair emerged from the mist and stood tall by his side. She wore a golden crown with glittering jewels and diamonds and was dressed in a thick, fur-trimmed cloak with a shimmering yellow gown underneath, and her hands were covered with dove-white gloves.
But what stood out most about this mysterious woman was her bulging belly.
I assumed she was the queen, and as she stood beside her husband, she placed a hand over her stomach in a protective manner.
“Yes, my darling,” the king replied as he stared at the struggling Wicca women with a venomous smile. “I do believe we will be rewarded greatly for this.”
“How lovely,” the queen purred. “I cannot wait to watch the Satanists wriggle and burn.”
“Soon enough, my love,” the king answered with his chin raised. “Bishop, have your men tie these unholy women to their posts at once.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” another cloaked man said as he caressed a long, golden cross that dangled from his neck.
Once he received his order, the hooded bishop leaned toward his men and gave the command, and his followers eagerly nodded in his direction before they forcefully wrenched the poor women toward the stakes.
“Noooo!” a woman with long, filthy blonde hair cried out. “You will regret this!”
The men ignored her and quickly began to tie the women to the stakes without mercy or hesitation, and once the filthy and boney women were bound to the posts, the cloaked men proceeded to throw water in their faces. As they did so, the women’s skin burned and sizzled, and they cried out in agony as their faces grew red with boils and scabs.
“Light the fire,” the king commanded as he stood only a few feet away from the women.
“But… Your Majesty,” the bishop whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, “are you sure you want the queen to be present for this? It will surely be a gruesome sight to behold.”
“I am well aware of that,” the beautiful queen responded in a demure and calm voice. “I specifically asked my beloved if I could witness this holy ritual.”
“She stays,” the king affirmed when the bishop seemed to be at a loss for words, “and now, you may proceed without question.”
“Very well, Your Majesty.” The bishop bowed.
The cloaked men didn’t waste another moment, and they quickly lowered their flaming candles and lit a fire beneath each bound woman. At first, the Wiccas refused to scream, but then the flames began to lick at their bruised and bloody feet, and all hell broke loose.
“Nooooooo!” they shrieked as the fire devoured their starved bodies. “Satan will have your souls for this!”
“I doubt that,” the king chuckled. “We have the elders to protect us.”
As the flames continued to consume their bodies, their pitiful screams echoed in my head, and I desperately wanted their pain and suffering to come to a quick end. I felt useless as I gaped in horror at the sight before me, and as each woman burned to a blackened crisp, my heart bled for them. The flames quickly spread, and when I was sure they were near death, one woman, with charred skin and melting eyes, stared down at the queen and began to chant.
“Ut incenderent sum ante vos, et crescere pueri vestri,” she recited, “ut sit deformis, ut scilicet vulnerum cicatrices, quae per propagationem ardenti corpore. Sit autem se nihil scire de angustia et dolores tenuerunt eam quasi quamdiu vivit!”
As I burn before you, your child will grow to be as hideous as the scars spreading through my burning body, a familiar voice translated inside my head. May she know nothing but pain and misery for as long as she lives.
“It’s you,” I whispered in a low and trembling voice.
I never left, the woman from my dreams answered. Do you see what they have done to our kind? They hate us, Cole. You mustn’t show them one ounce of mercy.
“I won’t,” I breathed as the smell of rotting, burning flesh seeped into my nostrils. “I promise.”
As I stood there and watched the flames devour the Wiccas, a different kind of scream quickly filled the air, and when I promptly averted my eyes toward the source, I saw the queen kneeling in a pool of her blood. Her face was slick with sweat, and her eyes were filled with tears. She clutched at her swollen belly, and when she screamed again, the king rushed to her aid.
“Darling!” he cried out. “Is it the child? Is it my son?”
“I can feel his head leaving my body!” the queen cried out in agony. “Lord, please, help me! He is pushing to enter this world… he has no patience, and his time to grace us with his virtue and royalty has come!”
“Take the queen inside!” the king bellowed. “Now!”
As the holy men rushed to the ailing queen’s side, the vision before me quickly began to dissolve into a black void, and I could feel my entire body drifting through time and space until I returned to Theodora’s warm and familiar office. When I stood there, trembling from the shock and suddenness of it all, the headmistress stood before me with a small, dejected smile plastered across her face.
“Terrible, isn’t it?” she asked before she took a seat in a velvet chair by the fire. “We lost a handful of incredibly talented and powerful witches on that miserable day.”
“It was wretched,” I growled as I remembered their screams and pleas to Satan. “I suppose this is the kingdom you’re planning to send us to?”
“The same kingdom.” She nodded. “However, what you saw was a different time… thirty years ago, to the day, to be exact.”
“So, there is a new king now, I presume?” I asked. “Did that child even survive?”
“Yes, the child lives.” Theodora nodded once more. “However, a princess was born that day in place of a prince… just as the Wicca had warned, and she came into this world deformed. She was rendered horrendously hideous by all those who gazed upon her and now, she wears a veil to shield her monstrosity. Her mortal kingdom, known as Ved Havet, is a holy, seaside dwelling filled with Wicca-hating citizens and holy, wrathful men, who worship the elder gods with no question or doubt. All they care for are riches and beauty. She is a ruthless queen now, who never leaves her castle, but she still harbors strong ties with the elder gods, and I fear her unity with them only grows stronger with each passing moon.”
A princess? Yes, Headmistress Theodora was right. The witch who cursed the child referred to the unborn infant as a girl.
“And this queen, she holds the Defero?” I inquired.
“Yes,” Theodora replied with a small sigh, “she accepted it as a gift long ago without question. All she saw was its undeniable beauty and greedily hid it within her castle. It is up to you and your coven to find the stone and safely return it and yourselves to Scholomance.”
“And we shall accomplish this, Headmistress,” I said with unwavering certainty laced in my voice, “however, I do have one small request.”
“And what might that be?” she questioned with a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“I would like Beatrix and Circe to join us,” I answered. “I believe they are both strong, capable witches who would contribute greatly to the mission.”
“Very well,” Theodora replied after a long moment. “I shall summon them.”
In the next moment, Theodora swiftly pulled out her intricate wand and swirled it high in the air. Then a cloud of purple smoke erupted within the middle of her expansive office, and soon, my coven along with the beautiful Circe and Beatrix were standing in the room, all visibly confused and curious at the same time. They were still dressed in their stunning gowns, and they regarded the two of us with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.
“Whoa,” Nyx was the first to mumble, “did I smoke too much again? Am I seeing shit?”
“No.” Akira rolled her black eyes. “You’re seeing what we’re all seeing.”
“Good evening, ladies,” Theodora purred as she gazed at each witch.
“Err, good evening, Headmistress,” Morgana replied in a polite tone. “May I ask why we are here?”
“Of course.” Theodora smiled. “I have informed Cole that we are in dire need of the third and final Defero stone. It is up to you to retrieve the precious artifact from the kingdom of Ved Havet and return safely to Scholomance. Now, given the circumstances, I want to make it clear you are free to show the kingdom your wrath. You may do whatever you want to the people of the Wicca-hating kingdom but remember… the stone and your lives are the main priority. Now… does anyone have any important questions before I send you away?”
“Yeah… where is Ved Havet?” Beatrix asked in a small voice. “I’ve never heard of it before.”
“Is it a beautiful realm?” Vesta asked with shimmering silver eyes.
“And what in dragon’s breath is a Defero stone?” Nyx questioned in a sluggish voice.
“Is this something we will be graded on?” Circe asked as she tilted her head to the side. “It just seems like such an unusual task…”
Theodora studied the witches for a moment before she shook her head and then turned to me.
“On second thought, Cole can answer any questions you have,” Theodora said. “Time is of the essence, and I think we’d better get on with it. I know you must be afraid, but I assure you… you can carry out this quest. I have my faith in each of you.”
“Well, regardless, we’d do whatever you and our master asked of us, Headmistress,” Vesta purred as her silver eyes darted over to me, “and we humbly and truly appreciate your faith in us.”
“I knew you’d say that,” Theodora chuckled as she aimed her wand at the group of witches. “Now… you can’t enter the kingdom looking like that… Cole, would you please join the others?”
“Yes, Headmistress,” I answered without hesitation.
I marched over toward my women and the other two witches, and then Theodora pointed her wand right at us before she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Mutata in testamento meo,” she recited in a deep, echoing voice.
Suddenly, a deep green cloud of shimmering smoke wrapped around us all at once, and when I turned to look at the others, their glittering, gorgeous gowns were replaced with gold and purple robes. They were hideous looking garments, and they sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine. What’s more, we were also wearing long, golden crosses around our necks, and it felt heavy, not in a literal sense, but rather as an unforeseen burden we’d have to carry for longer than I’d like.
“Broom fucker,” Akira hissed as if she forgot the headmistress was there. “Guys… there’s a fucking cross around my neck.”
“No shit,” Penelope remarked under her breath. “We’re all wearing one, Akira.”
“Just be sure not to touch it, Miss Akira,” Theodora said in a gentle tone, “and you should be fine.”
“Yes, of course, Headmistress,” Akira mumbled as a deep, crimson blush crept across her face. “My apologies.”
“It’s quite alright… now, Nyx, Vesta, and Circe,” Theodora tutted, “we will most certainly have to do something about your skin… and other features….”
Nyx, Circe, and Vesta exchanged knowing looks with each other before they nodded obediently at the headmistress.
“Very well, Headmistress,” Vesta was the first to answer. “Do what you must.”
“This will only be uncomfortable for a moment,” Theodora said, “you’ve been through this before, Vesta.”
The lavender witch nodded deeply in Theodora’s direction before she swallowed hard and then raised her chin up into the air.
“We’re ready,” the elvish witch said in an elegant and firm voice.
“Persona humana,” Theodora muttered as she aimed her wand at the three witches.
In the next moment, Vesta and Nyx’s skin began to morph into a milky white tone that matched the other women. I watched in fascination as Vesta’s ears shrunk to human size and became less pointed, and her shimmering sage-green hair turned into a mousy and plain shade of brown. Then Nyx’s red horns dissolved into nothingness, and her vibrant, cobalt-blue hair turned into an ashy shade of black. Meanwhile, Circe’s serpentine pupils became round, and when she opened her mouth, her forked tongue came together to form one solid organ. When the spell was complete, the three women turned to look at each other and then marveled in disgust at their new appearances.
“How bland,” Vesta muttered under her breath.
“I still think you look lovely,” Circe purred in a dream-like voice.
“Oh, thank you,” Vesta responded with a satisfied smile.
“But it just feels so weird,” Nyx added with pinched, black eyebrows.
“You’ll get used to it soon enough,” Theodora reminded them, “however, it is crucial to remember this spell will not last exceptionally long. You must be quick and find the castle and stone as soon as you can. Now… are you all ready?”
“Yes, Headmistress,” we answered in unison.
“Excellent,” she said, “may Satan protect you all on your journey.”
Theodora raised her wand into the air, and soon, we were all wrapped in a cloud of familiar purple smoke, and I could feel my body tossing and turning through realms as we were violently thrown through space.
Finally, the world came to an abrupt halt, and when my head stopped spinning, and the cloud of purple smoke disappeared, I found myself staring out at the same gray ocean from my vision. We were standing at the edge of a cliff, and the drop below us was at least a thousand feet. As I peered down, the waves were raging and rough as they violently pounded against the rocky shore, and I knew in my bones this particular sea was unforgiving and the epitome of pure rage. I could feel the wrath of the waves as they continued to rise like watery, furious mountains, and the sound of their fury echoed inside my eardrums like a fiery drum. When I craned my neck upward, I studied the deep, gray clouds that blotted out the sun and sent a chilling, icy wind to whip across our faces. The darkness was a welcoming sight to behold, but regardless, we were still stuck in a Wicca-loathing realm, and the idea made my stomach twist into tight coils and knots.
“Look!” Morgana’s voice carried over the roaring waves. “I can see the kingdom.”
When I whipped around, I saw a cluster of white-washed stone houses and a towering white castle sitting on the top of another cliff just above us. The castle and village were surrounded by a tall, white stone wall, and judging by the cliff’s steepness, it would probably take us an hour to reach the kingdom, but we didn’t have that kind of time.
“Fuck,” Akira hissed, “that’s one hell of a climb.”
“No shit,” Penelope sighed.
“Cole, are we going to walk all the way there, or do you have another plan in mind?” Circe asked in a delicate voice.
“Can’t you shadow port us there?” Penelope suggested with a clever glint in her brown eyes.
“You read my mind, Penelope,” I said before I pulled out my wand. “Now, everyone, stand still… hos parere imperio.”
Again, we were wrapped up in a cloud of purple smoke, and within seconds, we were transported behind a cluster of towering rocks that obscured our view of the kingdom.
“How close are we now?” Faye whispered.
“Let me see,” I answered.
I wedged my foot into the stones and then climbed to the top of the pile, and there, just a few feet in front of us, was the looming, pale stone fortifications surrounding the entire perimeter of the kingdom. My eyes quickly darted over to something hanging by a towering wooden gate, and my blood instantly boiled with pure rage when I realized what it was.
There, swinging in the violent wind, was a skeleton of a Wicca, and it hung from a wooden post with words at the top.
All those who possess dark, occult blood will suffer a terrible and agonizing death. You have been warned.
“Cole,” Faye breathed, “what do you see?”
“I can see the entrance,” I replied as I carefully climbed back down, “and I can see one of our own… her rotten, blackened bones are dangling in the wind as a warning for our kind to stay far, far away.”
“Holy bastards,” Penelope sneered. “We’ll obviously have to tread carefully and watch everything we say.”
“I don’t like this.” Beatrix gulped.
“None of us do,” Akira snapped, “but we have to go through with it. You heard the Headmistress.”
“But what if we’re caught?” the light-haired brunette asked in a hesitant voice.
“We’ll fight if we have to,” I answered in a low and calm tone. “We’ve done it before, and we can do it again.”
“What is a Defero stone anyway?” Nyx asked as she brushed back her lifeless, ebony hair.
“It’s a stone which brings back powerful beings who have been doomed to linger endlessly in purgatory,” Circe responded before I could answer. “Depending on who or what you’re resurrecting,
“Oh.” Nyx blinked slowly. “That’s pretty amazing.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Morgana asked in a firm voice. “We have our disguises… are we just going to waltz inside?”
“For now, that’s the gist of it,” I said as I studied each witch with their convincing disguises and heavy, golden crosses. “We look the part… now we just need to act unsuspicious and keep to ourselves as best we can… So, who’s ready to take back that fucking stone and wreak havoc on these elder-god worshipping motherfuckers?”
Each witch broke out into a grin, and I knew, deep down, this quest was going to be a dangerous mission, but still, a part of me was eager to see just how much damage we could do to those who murdered our own, once we found the stone, of course.
Before we began to make our way to the wooden gates, I silently vowed to Satan these fuckers would pay dearly for their crimes, and it would happen by my own hand and unforgiving fury.