The Last Witch: 3.5: Beyond The Veil. A Novella
The Last Witch: 3.5: Chapter 6

I claw at the water, reaching for the surface with desperation. My legs are still buried deep in the mud, holding me down, keeping me a prisoner under the churning water.

I call my magic, but all I get is a headache.

Headache or not, if I do nothing, I’ll drown. And I did not fight all I have fought to die because of my own fucking stupidity!

I reach down and sink my hands in the silt, and with my final breath, I scream in the effort. The ground erupts below my feet and sets me free. The water becomes clouded with the dirt and mud as I kick against the water still swirling around me, churning and rolling me in every possible direction.

I finally break the surface.

Greedily, I take in breath after breath as I tread the turbulent water, waiting for it to calm. The odd splash happens as rocks and debris return to earth.

It’s a damn good job Mama Quinn taught me to swim during those five years we lived together in the human world, hiding from those who still hunted us.

Shame I can’t teach myself any fucking control.

I swim to shore and wade out, falling on the grass and coughing against the water and thick blood sliding down my throat. It drips from my nose and my head pounds in my skull.

I sit to try and catch my breath. I’ve over-exerted. That’s a dangerous thing to do, especially for me with so much access to the magic of the Arcane Realm.

Shivering all over, I pull my knees close to my chest and rest my chin on top of them, watching as the water continues to calm and return to its usual state. It’s less than a minute before everything looks as it was, like nothing even happened.

Something warm trickles down the side of my face. Reaching up, I see blood on the tips of my fingers, and I wince at the sharp pain from beyond my hairline.

I must have taken a knock somewhere along the line.

I’m okay. It will heal soon enough.

Who am I kidding?

I’m far from fucking okay.

With a sniff, I wipe the tear that slides down my cheek and grind my teeth together, loathing myself completely.

I’m a liability. A risk.

A stupid nightmare could have seriously hurt the children and my dad. I ball up my fists and slam them into the ground. It cracks beneath me as my Physical magic spikes, making me ten times stronger than I should be.

Another stabbing pain ripples through my skull as my body protests against the magic.

I can’t let this happen again. I need to get this shit under control.

There must be something I can do. A spell to stop the nightmares. Perhaps I can do to myself what I did to others with the Branding spell and hide all those memories.

But remembering all the suffering is how I know it will never happen again. If I get rid of it, I may forget why it is so important to keep fighting for what’s right.

Either way, until I figure out a way to stop the nightmares, I know that there is something I can do to stop my magic from spiking whilst I sleep.

I grab the sleeve of my top and tug, tearing it free. I search the debris of the woodland floor and replace some dried-up old vines. Using a jagged rock, I slice open my hand and soak the vine in the pooling blood. Then I weave it through the fabric of my torn-up shirt.

Ten minutes or so pass. And I hold in my hand a very makeshift binding spell.

It’s temporary, I tell myself. Just temporary. And only for when I sleep.

I slide it into my pocket and slump.

I hope that the others are okay and not too pissed off with me.

From behind me, there’s a horrendous screech. It’s one full of pain. It resonates through the entire woodland.

All around me, the wildlife explodes into life.

And not in a good way.

They’re fleeing, taking to the skies, or scrabbling away into the brush.

The cry doesn’t sound human. I think it’s an animal or something.

It cries out again, and there’s something about it that makes me run ice-cold to my very core.

It’s an unearthly scream. One that feels all kinds of wrong. Going against nature and twisting it into something broken.

Every part of my being says run. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I feel a sudden pit of despair swell in my belly.

I get to my feet, ready to run away just like every other creature here.

But my heart tells me otherwise, and instead, I run as fast as I can towards it.

The cry continues as I hurtle deeper into the woods, running over the fallen logs and branches, past the gnarly trees and protruding boulders.

I emerge in a small clearing, darkened by the shade of the canopy of leaves above. I know these woods pretty well but have never seen this clearing before.

It’s like something from a fairy tale. Pristine white flowers bloom all over the place. A rock formation covered in moss mimics that of a beautiful woman sleeping half in the ground. Vines sway in the gentle breeze, and the smell of lavender and lilies fills the air.

In the very centre is a creature struggling for its life. The same creature I had heard rumours of existing in whispers and songs. But never actually seen.

‘A unicorn…’ I stand, mesmerised by the mythical creature of pure white with a silver horn protruding from its forehead.

Its hooves have been bound together with wire and it thrashes on the floor, trapped on its side.

It takes me a moment to realise that she’s not alone.

A cloaked figure stands over her, their face obscured by a black hood. They’re tall, but other than that, I can see no other discerning features.

They don’t see me standing in the treeline. As I step closer, the figure kneels beside her and pulls out a weapon. A long blade that curves.

A scythe.

Before I can react, the cloaked figure buries the scythe into her belly and draws it upwards in a swift, violent, and unhesitant motion.

The scream the unicorn makes… my god. I go dizzy as its pain and terror seep into the air.

The cloaked figure thrusts their hand deep into her belly, making her cry out even more.

They pull something out of her. Something small, too soaked with blood to truly see what the hell it is.

The hooded figure lifts their gaze.

They look right at me.

They drop the scythe, choosing to surrender their weapon rather than release whatever organ they stole from the still writhing beast.

But when they thrust out their hand, I realise they have no need for a bladed weapon.

Deep blue lightning springs to life from their fingers and a stream of it shoots at me.

I raise my hand and send my own Energy magic back. The red of my lightning clashes with the blue of theirs and sends violent sparks in all directions, hitting the ground and scorching the earth or splintering the bark of the tree trunks surrounding us.

My power is still in its infancy. I have only had this magic since I first arrived. This person has clearly had it much longer. Probably since the first day they arrived here five years ago. I feel its strength. I sense the control they wield over it. I may not have the stamina they have, and the pressure in my head is unbearable already, but I have other realms of power.

I reach out and create my fire with my free hand. It spills to the ground and forms one of my fire wolves. The flaming creature springs into action, its teeth bared and lava-like saliva spilling from its lips. It growls and roars as it goes for the kill, its vibrant red flaming paws scorching the ground on contact.

The cloaked figure waves their hand and breaks our lightning connection before reaching into their pocket and retrieving some kind of small vial. They throw it at my wolf’s feet and I yell as it explodes in a blast of black smoke. The smoke seems to roar as it weaves itself around my wolf, smothering it. Suffocating it. My wolf howls as it struggles against the shadow. It thrashes and falls to the ground, and within seconds, both the smoke and the wolf are gone.

I turn to the hooded figure, just in time to see them toss a dagger at me. I throw myself out of the way, but not quickly enough. It scratches my cheek, the tip of the blade drawing blood before I land on the ground.

The figure runs towards me, lightning crawling over one hand and the deep red blood from the unicorn dripping over whatever the hell they stole from its body in the other.

I expel a blast of Telekinetic power and the unknown assailant is sent soaring back, hurtling through the brush and out of sight.

The dying creature looks at me, panic spilling out of its beautiful eyes.

It continues to buck and struggle. Each movement it makes causes more blood to spill from the gaping wound in its belly.

I run to it.

‘I can help you!’ I insist, struggling to get past its flailing body. ‘I can fix you!’

It stills, looking into my eyes, and I know it understood me.

I drop to my knees and rest my hands over the slash before channelling my Physical magic into her.

I pant, looking anxiously beyond the thick brush, watching for the attacker to return.

Her blood seeps through my fingers and into the ground. As soon as it does, all that was alive starts to die. The grass turns black. The flowers rot. The vines decay. The moss-covered woman cracks and crumbles into dust.

The unicorn’s eyes are on me completely. I can feel her fear and pain as if it were my own. I feel her misery. Her grief.

I start to cry for her.

‘Hold on,’ I tell her. ‘Just hold on.’

The cut starts to close. The blood slowly stops.

But my own starts to fall, sliding from my nose and ears.

‘A little more…’ I whisper, forcing myself on. ‘A little… more…’

But the creature… she lets out her last breath.

Just as the last flower dies, so too does the unicorn.

All that surrounds me now is death. The woodland is decayed, and the unicorn is still.

Gone.

Murdered.

I lift my head and look into the woods where I sent the monster who did this. I hear no attempt for his return. No rustling of leaves or snapping of twigs. No crackle from his lightning or the singing of steel.

I take another look at the unfortunate creature, her lifeless eyes still trained on me and the remnants of her emotions still in my soul.

And before I can think it through, I go after the fucker.

Again, I’m running through the woods. My hands and my clothes are stained red. Hot tears sting my eyes and dark wrath is coursing through me.

‘GET BACK HERE!’ I bellow. ‘YOU GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!’

I run faster and harder, but there’s no sign of anyone else. No tracks. No pathways. Nothing.

When a twig snaps to my left, I spin and raise my hand. My red fire springs to life on my fingers.

I’m ready for some payback.

‘Easy! It’s me! It’s me, Buttons!’

Dad swiftly dismounts his horse, panting and sweating from his hasty ride back from the cottage. He looks me up and down.

‘What the hell happened to you?’ He rushes over, looking at the copious amounts of blood drenching my already soaked clothes. ‘You’re hurt! Fuck!’

‘That’s not my blood,’ I tell him, still looking around us.

‘But this is!’ He gestures to the cut on my cheek and the damage caused by the falling rocks at the lake. He touches the blood beneath my nose and sees it at my ears. ‘You’ve used too much magic. What the hell happened here?’

‘There was… a man. I think it was a man. He attacked me. He…’ I continue looking around us, hoping to see a glimpse of the killer.

But whoever it was, they’ve gone.

Dad takes my face in his hands.

‘What happened here, Buttons?’ he asks. ‘Whose blood are you soaked in if not your own?’

‘Is everyone okay? Callie… Amara and her kids-’

‘You sent us all back to the cottage. Everyone is absolutely fine. No one got so much as a scratch. Everyone is just worried about you. Now, tell me what the fuck happened!’

I take his hands in mine.

‘Follow me. I’ll show you.’