Chapter Eight
"I'm afraid Hunter has been excused for the rest of the week," Mrs. Kissiae said gently.
Willow carefully kept the disappointment from her expression as she nodded. "Do you know why?" she asked hesitantly.
Mrs. Kissiae gave an impish grin at the question. 'Ah, young love,' she thought.
"All I know is that Principal Bump had helped arrange it," the teacher said. "He assured me that Hunter should be back within a few days at most."
Willow smiled tightly and nodded before taking her leave and joining her partner for the day, Ium Crane. She gave a small wave and an even smaller smile to him, an acquaintance who had always been nice to her and was now something of a friend to Hunter as well.
"Everything alright, Park?" Ium asked lightly as they both joined the class in stuffing their ears with enchanted wax under the rising sun outside the greenhouse. The class would be harvesting mandragora roots today from the small field along one of the walls of the school grounds, and the wax was to ward off the potentially deadly cries of the roots.
"I think you know it's not," Willow replied honestly. She was aware of Ium's emotional sensitivity and so felt no need to try to hide her emotions.
"You know," he said airily, "one might be concerned that you and Strong have grown so close so fast. I know Jerbo is." He gestured over at Jerbo, who averted his gaze with pink cheeks while clearly trying very hard to appear as if he hadn't been looking at them. He glanced back as if just realizing they were looking and waved nervously before turning and busying himself.
"I don't really understand it myself," Willow admitted, brushing bangs behind her ear. "And I know I should be concerned, too," she said, "but I'm not. It just feels so right to be around him, you know?" She scoffed at herself. "Maybe Luz is changing me more than I realized."
"I wouldn't know about that," Ium said with a wry smile. "But if you ask me, you always came off as a closet romantic, yourself." His smile faded into a more serious look. "How are things going, by the way? You seemed a little more disappointed that he's not here than I would think."
"There've been a few, uhm, 'incidents' between us," Willow admitted, a blush rising. Titan, it seemed like she blushed all the time these days. Now she could relate to Amity. "We agreed to talk about it today." She fiddled with the shears in her hands. "And now we can't. Maybe not for a while."
Ium chuckled. "Easy there, Park," he said. "You act like the guy's going to war or something. You'll have time to 'talk' when he gets back." Both of them looked up at the teacher's call to circle the patch of mandragora plants. "I mean, how terrible could this little trip he's probably taking be?"
'This trip is absolutely terrible,' Hunter thought bitterly, his tight frown hidden behind his official mask.
After he'd returned from the greenhouse a mere three days ago, Emperor Belos had contacted him with a temporary assignment: to hunt down a wild witch and bring them in, dead or alive. The Owl Lady had been the most wanted criminal on the Isles for nearly thirty years, but with her now powerless and therefore ignored by the Emperor's Coven, many had stepped up to try and fill the void.
One tight contender was Cuth Thulu, a cephalopodic bipedal demon and wild witch who specialized in Oracle magic. Though he had no records of personal crimes, aside from refusing to join a coven, he had been implicated as an accessory in dozens of events against the coven system as a source of information.
But with those implications piling up and the Day of Unity growing steadily nearer, he had been deemed a prime target.
Several teams had been dispatched in the last few weeks to bring him in and bind him to the Oracle Coven and thus the Titan's will. But it seemed a gift for sensing the present and future was a useful skill for avoiding capture, especially from a bureaucratic force like the Emperor's Coven that relied heavily on planning. Interestingly, none of the teams sent after him had had a single casualty, though they had all been found weeping profusely or their minds in shambles. More Oracle magic.
As such, Hunter had been ordered to lead a small force of six to hunt down Cuth and either force him into a coven or bring back his corpse. His force had been told where to go and little else to try and evade the target's foresight.
At first, the mission had been going well. For one, they had actually found him — in a small campsite beneath one of the Titan's ribs. He was a heavyset, upright demon with smooth, oily orange skin and a mass of tentacles hanging from his lower face like a long moustache and beard. His body was clothed in a brown hooded robe that left his wickedly clawed hands bare. His black eyes were hard as he moved about his camp, chopping firewood, carving figurines, and occasionally stirring a cauldron of soup.
The scouts had gotten into position, spread out to fire sleeping spells at the target from all sides and hopefully overwhelm his foresight. Hunter himself was wearing an artifact he had acquired long ago — an Ob-see-dian stone, a piece of midnight-black stone that blinded Oracles from sensing that person's future.
But when the plan was put into action, everything had fallen apart.
A second before Hunter had given the go-ahead, Cuth had glanced in his direction and narrowed his eyes before pointing straight at him. When the barrage of sleeping spells came upon him, he formed a shield of magic that dispersed them all. The effort of that had clearly taken its toll on the Thulu demon, but he had enough magic left to summon a griffon — Beastkeeper magic — and try to fly away. Hunter had barely been able to tag the creature with a tracking stone.
What had followed had been three days of relentless and frustrating hunting.
They had pursued Cuth with as much tenacity as they could muster, but in every confrontation he had been able to slip away somehow. But Hunter had been able to track him to every location he fled to. He didn't become the Golden Guard by sitting on his hands, after all.
His pride in thwarting his prey didn't make this any less grueling, though. Hunter and his team were exhausted, hardly taking the time to eat or sleep in pursuit of Cuth Thulu, knowing full well that any time they took to recuperate would give him the same chance. And so they pressed on.
They had been all over the lower Isles since that first encounter, and Hunter's most recent tracking method,a dowsing rod he kept in his cloak tied with a piece of the target's tentacle he had secured — a bit of wild magic he kept from his subordinates — had traced him to a forest below the Left Clavicle.
Hunter felt the dowsing rod begin to shake in his grasp, carefully hidden under his cloak. According to the books he'd read, that meant the target was close. He snarled under his mask and motioned for his team to prepare themselves. Four of them scattered to prepare a containment spell, while the other two would stick with him.
One way or another, it would end here.
Willow placed her fingers against a large tree and embraced the magic within it, sensing its health and state of being. As she did so, she kept a thought in her mind — a question of where any dead trees might be — and felt an answer within minutes. She smiled and brushed the tree with her thanks before moving on.
Dressed in a sleeveless white button-up shirt knotted at the waist to show her abs, with mid-thigh hiking shorts and sturdy leather boots, Willow felt herself give a true smile for the first time in days. Her dads had suggested a camping trip to the northern part of the Isles for the weekend to get her mind off whatever had been keeping her down all week.
Willow's smile faded a bit at the thought of Hunter still being missing, her attempts to contact him by scroll all fruitless, but decided to brush it aside for now and focus on where she was: in the depths of nature, surrounded by plants. Her dads brought her to this protected forest — a property of the Plant Coven — several times a year for camping retreats. The fact that they had decided to visit earlier than usual meant she must have been even more out of it than she thought.
Her papa, Eun, had also given her some new hiking clothes, the ones she now wore. They were ... far less conservative than her usual style. Her Hexside uniform was one thing, but her even preferred dress covered every inch of skin below her neck except for her hands. Years of bullying had made her self conscious, and she had long grown used to her conservative style. She genuinely liked it, and it helped that her dad, Gilbert, approved.
But out here, alone except for her dads and their palismen, she accepted the gift and let herself show a bit more. She chuckled at the thought of how Luz would react to her attire, squealing with joy at seeing a side of Willow she never showed. As Luz had said before, she was all for trying new things. And Willow was certain that her human friend would approve.
The thought of how Hunter would react to her hiking clothes had crossed her mind, too. But she decided to let that mystery go unresolved. … For now.
Soon enough, she found what she had been looking for: a large, dead tree. The sight of a massive croak tree, a specimen that had been majestic in life, grey and lifeless made her sad. But she shook her head and moved past that. Death was as much a part of life as life itself. All things died, and were broken down to be repurposed for new life. Nothing knew this better than plants. She traced a small circle to summon a thatch of vines to break off branches and drop them in her arms, and then she was on her way.
The armful of dead wood was easy to carry. Willow worked out every morning, and under her usual dress or uniform hid her defined muscles. All this walking and hauling wood would count as her exercise for the night, she decided.
She returned to the campsite as the sun was setting to find her dads preparing for dinner. Papa was skinning vegetables while Dad prepared the meat for stew. Willow dropped the wood and began assembling it into a cone for the campfire, the task coming as easily as walking after so many years of camping. Clover buzzed over and circled around her before settling on the other side of the fire pit to watch with wide-eyed fascination.
Willow prepared to trace a circle for a fire spell, but she paused as the hairs on the back of her arms stood up and a chill ran down her spine. As if on cue, the sky to the west lit up with white light in a pyramid shape. A barrier spell, and a powerful one. Willow stood from her knees with wide eyes and looked back at her dads, who were also staring at the distant barrier.
"Willow Park," Gilbert said, "don't you-!"
But Willow had already traced a circle to summon a thrush of crawlway vines that closed in on her before even Clover could reach her and transported her in a flash through the ground, just like her opening move in the fateful grudgby match weeks ago. When the vines reemerged, she repeated the maneuver four more times before she found herself at one of the barrier walls. One more spell summoned some mundane bushes for camouflage and she peered through the translucent spell.
It looked like the Emperor's Coven was trying to take down a wild witch, and Willow's belly twisted with discomfort. Her time knowing Eda through Luz had shown her that wild witches were not all the anarchist monsters that history books painted them as. Sure, some were dangerous, but most just wanted to pursue their passions.
The wild witch, dressed in a ragged and dirty robe, was a Thulu demon. His orange skin was rapidly changing with chaotic patterns resembling a "kaleidoscope" that Luz had once shown her that, according to King, meant they were agitated, exhausted, or both. He shrieked as he formed spell circles that blasted bolts of lightning and the spells struck down two Emperor's scouts with cries of pain.
Before the two limp bodies had even hit the ground, the wild witch was moving, jumping from his position as a barrage of red spell orbs pummeled the space he had just occupied. And in their wake came another humanoid shape that gave a solid three-point landing before standing and resolving into a familiar figure: the Golden Guard.
Willow clapped her hand to her mouth to muffle a gasp of shock. The Emperor's right hand, the enigmatic figure that Luz had described as outmaneuvering her and Eda with ease before forcing them into slaying a selkidamus, looked far different than on recruitment posters for the Emperor. Even with his face covered he looked … haggard. His cloak and uniform were torn and frayed, stained with dirt and mud. His mask was scratched and dented from impacts. Even his posture was off, seemingly tight with pain and fatigue as he fought to keep his head high.
"Damned Emperor's dog," the Thulu spat in a warbling voice like speaking from underwater, also literally spitting a globule of green blood. "You might actually be the death of me."
"At this point, Cuth, that's the idea," the Golden guard shot back, his light tone belying the tiredness in his voice. Willow's ears perked at that voice, warped by the echo of his metal mask. Was it … familiar? 'No, it can't be,' she decided with a shrug, 'I'm just hearing things.'
"You've been outmaneuvered, Cuth," the Golden Guard continued. "You can See far, I'll admit. But it doesn't help if you're too tired to act on your Sight." He pointed his single-winged staff at the Thulu, the gem atop it glowing and writhing with ruby magic. "Last chance. We could use an Oracle with your talents. So will you join the Oracle Coven … or die?"
The Thulu hacked a coughing laugh, more blood dripping from the tentacles that obscured his mouth. "You must know by now, boy. I will not return with you, willingly or otherwise. I would rather die in glory than perish as a slave."
"As you wish," the Guard said solemnly.
In a flash, the Guard blasted a massive, twisting bolt of lightning into the air, then in another flash of red he was upon the wild witch, this Cuth person, with an onslaught of staff swings. The Thulu demon revealed a staff of his own with the head broken off, its palisman gone, and he tried to stave off the offensive.
Both combatants were clearly exhausted, but just as clearly skilled and experienced. Willow held her breath at their battle that almost resembled a dance. The stalemate ended when the Golden Guard disappeared in another flash of red light … and not a second later, all of the magic he'd blasted into the air came back down in a web of smaller but still devastating bolts of energy. All converging on Cuth.
The demon shrieked in agony as the spells ravaged his body and sent him crashing to the ground. One had gotten unlucky and actually severed a leg, while the rest merely left gaping, smoking holes in his frame. The Golden Guard was panting heavily as he clapped the butt of his staff to the ground, the crystal atop it flaring with red light. The barrier began to unravel and Willow ducked further back into the leaves that hid her.
Or did they?
She yelped as an iron grip took hold of her hair and dragged her from her bush. She was forcibly turned to face one of the rough-looking Emperor's scouts. "What do we have here?" a woman's voice asked. "A little peeping wild witch?" The scout grabbed Willow's hand and jerked her arm forward to reveal the bare skin with no coven mark. "Looks like we got lucky. Two for one," she growled.
"Wait, please!" Willow cried out in panic.
"What's going on here?" a voice demanded, still tickling at her memory. The scout released Willow's hair, which allowed her to turn and find herself face to face with the Golden Guard. The Guard took a step back, as if in shock. Must have been her age that threw him off.
"This wild witch was observing your duel with the Thulu," the scout reported. "Probably trying to shore up her intel on your fighting style, sir. I recommend we bring her back to bind her to a coven."
The Golden Guard was silent for a few moments. "What's your name, Miss?" he asked gently, his voice modulated differently. Why would he do that?
"Willow Park," she said timidly. The memory of Cuth of the Thulu being battered, beaten, and broken by a salvo of red lightning flashed across her mind and she felt … afraid.
"Ms. Park, what were you ... doing out here?" he asked, still with that distant, metallic tone.
"My dads and I are camping. We saw the barrier go up, and I-" she hesitated, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and suddenly blushing at the skin that was showing, "I just wanted to know what was happening."
The Golden Guard leaned on his staff as he seemed to study her, perhaps debating whether she was telling the truth or not. "And where are your 'dads'?" he asked.
Before she could draw breath to answer, her name was called. Both of her dads were running toward the area in clear panic. "Wait, please don't arrest her!" Gilbert shouted, huffing and puffing as he bent over and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Eun wasn't much better, placing a hand to his heart as sweat beaded his brow. Clover zipped past them and lunged at a scout to make them flinch away before buzzing furiously and arming her stinger to point at the others.
"Please, let her go, sir!" Gilbert said, clasping his hands, "I beg you!"
Eun placed a hand on Gilbert's shoulder and gently drew him back a bit. "Sir, we are camping about a mile away and our daughter got curious when that barrier came up." He seemed to actually take in what was around him. "What on the Isles happened here?"
"That's classified!" one of the scouts shouted, but the Golden Guard lifted a hand to silence him.
"Mr. and Mr. Park, I presume?" the Golden Guard said. Both men nodded. The Golden Guard glanced at his team and motioned for them to move away. As soon as they were some distance from them, he spoke again. "Your daughter is in no trouble," he assured them. "She's still of school age and so still exempt from coven selection." Willow noticed the grip on his staff tightening at those words and he addressed Willow directly. "But if you are caught spying on coven business again, you will face charges. It's the way it is."
He turned on his heel and gestured for the scouts to begin cleaning up. "Now, please return to your campsite. We'll be done within the hour." He took a few steps and paused. "And Ms. Park?" Willow felt her heart rate spike in fear. "Do be more careful in the future. The Emperor is not a merciful man." With that, he continued to leave.
Willow didn't remember returning to the campsite, nor Papa handing her a bowl of soup while Dad placed her blanket over her shoulders and Clover nuzzled her cheek. She didn't remember eating, though she knew she had. She hardly remembered cleaning up in the stream or settling into her tent and bedroll to try and fall asleep with her dear palisman nearby.
All she remembered was the death of Cuth the Thulu, a wild witch. She remembered the vicious onslaught of the Golden Guard as he executed the demon. And with that, she remembered the sight of Lilith holding Luz captive in the Emperor's castle, the scouts hurling spears at her friends as they fled, the scout who mere hours ago would have arrested her and forced her into a coven on mere suspicion.
And she remembered the sight of the Golden Guard as he executed a resident of the Isles in a most brutal fashion.
Willow let out a shaky breath and rolled over as tears leaked from her eyes.
Hunter sighed with fatigue as prepared himself for bed. He'd just finished giving his report to the Emperor, who had, thankfully, been pleased with his work. As he brushed his fingers through his hair, still wet from a shower, he thought back to the aftermath of the operation.
Specifically, what were the odds that Willow would be nearby when he took Cuth down?
The thought of Willow made the image of her hiking outfit flash to mind. Titan she was so beautiful, and he hadn't known she had abs like that- Nope! He slapped himself to knock those thoughts away. How many times had he cursed his hormones since meeting Willow? And it just kept coming.
In its place came the image of Willow looking so … scared. Of him. Well, of the Golden Guard, but that was him, even if she didn't know it.
His insides wrenched at the thought of Willow being scared at all, especially of him. She was so sweet, like a flower freshly in bloom — when had he become so sappy? He felt his heart burn at the thought — seriously, what was wrong with him to make him come up with this tripe?! — and then simmer at the thought of her smile. The twinkle in her eye when she was confident in her magic. The faint blush when she received a compliment from a stranger.
Hunter groaned and fell back on his temporary bed, distantly missing his own quarters in the castle. Lil Rascal flitted to his side and nuzzled his head, twittering in a way that was surprisingly consoling.
"What am I gonna do, Rascal?" he asked pitifully.
The palisman had no time to answer when a pinging noise echoed through the room. Hunter sat up in confusion before he recalled what that must have been: his scroll. He'd bought that as part of his student cover, and hopefully to connect to friends. But only a few people had his number.
Hunter picked it up and found a message from Willow's scroll, but not from Willow. Hunter, this is Eun. Willow's papa. When you get this, please come to our apartment. She needs you now.
Hunter's heart almost stopped before he lurched into action. He shed his sleepwear and put on the underclothes of his uniform, like he'd worn to speak with Principal Bump when he'd registered at Hexside. He whistled for Lil Rascal, who dutifully formed his staff for Hunter to snatch out of the air.
Within moments, he was on his way to Willow's home. And Titan help anyone who tried to stop him.
Chapter eight, everybody! This one had at least one rewrite as I worked to get the feel of it just right.
*Mandragora is a real plant also known as mandrake - probably familiar to anyone who has read or watched "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets". The idea that their cries kill is rooted in real European folklore, not just JK Rowling's imagination. The idea that they originate from the boiling Isles just makes so much sense, right?
*In case it wasn't abundantly clear, Cuth Thulu is heavily influenced by the Lovecraftian entity Cthulu. Even his inclination toward Oracle magic to sow discord and tear apart the minds of his enemies was influenced by the idea of the Old Ones screwing with the minds of mortals.
*To give credit where it is due, the name for the Ob-see-dian stone came from my little brother. A clever bit of wordplay that I couldn't help but use.
*Dana Terrace confirmed that Willow works out every morning, she just doesn't brag about it like Boscha would.
Again, I hope you all like this little encounter. Leave a review if you liked anything in particular - they really keep my motivation up. And the next chapter will certainly continue this mini-arc.