Wings and Shadowthief by May Sage
A Scream in the Woods
2nd of April 2158
Gwen erected a wall of ice to block the balls of flame coming head-on at full speed. One hand reached forward as she expelled waves of energy with a grunt.
Blair leaned back, effortlessly avoiding the dark spikes coming at her. “Come on, you can do better than this. These were barely bigger than toothpicks! You're supposed to want to hurt me.”
Gwen grumbled in frustration. There was the crux of the issue. She didn't want to hurt her friend. She was fairly certain that she could do better in the heat of battle, or against a certain infuriating huntsman, but she recoiled from the thought of harming a fellow witch without meaning to. Of course, she was aware that Blair, like her, wore energy shields. Her spikes would just bounce off her magical shield if she were to strike true.
"Well, I don't." She sighed, frustration getting to her. "I really suck at this sparring thing."
"All right then. If you don't want to train, how about we chat instead?" Blair grinned wickedly. "So, Jack's back. You know, after not seeing him for a few weeks, I realized he’s crazy hot. Maybe I should make a play for him."
Gwen's blood turned to ice. Never mind the fact that she knew Blair was trying to get under her skin. It was working. All too well. All of a sudden, and without any warning, she felt it. The distinctive rays of magic radiating off her.
"I'll pass on the talking. Let's train."
Until now, she had directed her magic to resemble the thing she’d created in Jack's presence all those weeks ago. There was no need to, not anymore. Those blades of frost jolted out of her in waves. All she had to do was to give them a target.
Gwen didn't need to direct her magic with her hands, nor did she truly feel the need to focus on her prey visually. Her thoughts were enough. She told the magic to target Blair and that was all that was needed. Wave after wave rushed out of the forest floor, each of them aiming a deadly blow at her friend. If Blair twisted or leapt to avoid them, all it took was another thought and the spikes, still in the air, curved to attack her again relentlessly.
Anger. Anger was the key to unleashing her power.
She should have guessed so, given the fact that it had come to after Jack had royally pissed her off.
The fire witch lost her footing and fell on her ass. "I yield!"
While Gwen heard Blair's scream, part of her considered ignoring it. She did send another couple of spikes before recalling them to her. The ice melted in the blink of an eye and disappeared, absorbed by the now moist earth under their feet.
Gwen crossed the few yards separating her from her friend and offered her a hand.
Blair was breathing hard, physically drained. "By the gods, remind me not to piss you off." She accepted her help to get back up to her feet.
"Since when have you known?" Gwen asked.
"That you have a temper? Since two minutes ago, clearly. I wouldn't have tried you otherwise." Blair winked at her. "But about Jack? Well, I realized there was some tension between you two over last few months, of course, but I didn't get it. Not until he left. You've been in a funk since then. Also, you don't normally get into people's business, but you wanted to know everything I knew about his condition—and his absence. Finally, I've seen you look at his table a few times. A girl can add one plus one and ends up with two, occasionally."
Gwen cringed as Blair described what she’d noticed. She couldn’t help but wonder if all her friends had guessed there was something between her and Jack. At least, they weren’t party to the embarrassing details. '"It's not what you think. I don't like him at all. It's just that I feel—"
What did she feel exactly? It was hard to put into words. Humiliated at the start, for certain. Then, angry that she let herself care. One-night stands were no big deal. He hadn't been first and none of the others had mattered. Since March, she'd oscillated between being pissed at him and pissed at herself. She hated that he had an excuse, that the thing about him not remembering what occurred sometimes was true. Because if she truly accepted his explanation, then she had no cause for anger, and where did that leave her? Vulnerable. She wasn't about to let that happen. Not with someone who’d already hurt her, willingly or not.
But it was true that what tended to cause her anger was a much simpler notion. She'd heard him say “I love you” over the phone, and she assumed it had been to some girl. In a way, she was right; Tris was technically some girl. And right now, Blair had just had to hint at some interest for her to go from her usual nonviolent self to a crazy, murdering creature wanting to hurt a friend.
It made no sense to her.
The worst was that she didn't even know Jack. Not truly. They might have hovered around each other for a while, but she had no clue how he took his coffee, what sort of movies he liked, whether he was the grunge or rock type of music listener. All she knew was that his cock was thick and eight inches long. Apparently that was enough. She was officially one of those girls rendered stupid by clever fingers, a talented tongue, and a very good dick.
"I get it." Blair laughed out loud. "Trust me, I get it. I think that we witches like to pretend to be entirely human, and we tend to forget that magic makes us more elemental than regulars. We may think that our brains are in charge, but sometimes magic clarifies things for us. Don't try to understand what your nature is telling you. Just decide what you're gonna do about it."
Gwen was spared the need to think too hard about those words by the sound of a plaintive high-pitched cry nearby.
The two witches stared at each other for a beat before walking side by side, drawn to it like moth to flame.
Cosnoc, unlike the Wolvswoods or even Night Hill, didn't have much fauna, whether it was because of the spells repelling animals or because they were too smart to be close to a creature like Eirikr. Yet the recognizable sound indeed came from a cat.
Gwen came to an abrupt stop as they approached the poor little creature, screaming softly at the top of its lungs. It was a tiny muddy thing that couldn't be more than a few days old, lying among a pile of matted, dirty fur. Its mother lay dead, attracting fleas and worms, her nipples long since dried. Next to it were three equally dirty kittens, all still and cold.
"I'm gonna be sick."
Witches often dealt with dead animals. Spiders and rats and even the occasional bird carcass could be required to complete spells. Never cats. Only monsters would harm cats. There was a long, heavily documented relationship between felines and witches. They respected each other, often choosing each other for companions.
Equally shaken, Blair steeled her resolve nonetheless and approached as quietly as she could, whispering in a soft voice. "There, there, baby. I hear you. I've come for you. I'm going to take care of you now. Everything will be fine."
The kitten never stopped screaming, eyes closed, its little paws kneading at the air in desperation. Slowly, and almost reverently, Blair lifted it up and pressed it against her chest.
Sweet and bubbly, quick to laugh, Blair had never seemed ferocious to Gwen until that moment. She was fairly certain that if the creature that had harmed that cat passed by in that moment, the witch would have burned it to ash where it stood. "Healing magic," she ordered Gwen. "As much as you can."
Gwen did what she could out in the woods, then they ran back down to the Institute as fast as their limbs, enhanced by spells, could carry them.
At least, Blair was done talking about Jack. For now.