Mark woke and found himself sitting on a chair. Seem that was where he had passed out. Emily must have fallen asleep first or else she would have stopped him from sleeping where he did. She was right of course as his back felt like crap.
He stood, stretched, then wandered to the other side of the kitchen. Looking out a window saw the dawn sky. Glancing at the stove clock showed the time was a little after six in the morning. Very few hours of sleep were gained but attempting to rest again felt like a pointless effort. He was up and nothing would change that. He might as well start cooking breakfast.
A pan was retrieved from a lower cupboard and placed on the stovetop. A few eggs were cracked, scrambled, and ready to fry. They sizzled and popped.
Pop! Pop! Bang! A barrage of gunfire tore through the front of the house as rifles and shotguns emptied dozens of bullets and shells. Glass and wood were blown apart by the projectiles.
Mark dropped everything from surprise but was quick to remember what was important and rushed back to Emily. She had already woken and was responding to the chaos by sliding to the end of the table to use her weight to flip it for cover. He joined her and they spoke loud enough to be heard over the crossfire.
“Where are the others?” Emily worried for them first.
“They’re not,” a short, apologetic pause was given, “here,” Mark answered.
“What do you mean?” She sounded cross. That was not what he had told her earlier. “You said they were resting?”
“I lied,” he admitted. “I didn’t want you to worry. Rachael left to find her brother. Marcy just left, and I don’t know why. And we told Olivia to go home for this very reason.”
Emily was disappointed to learn she had been lied to but did not hold his decision against him. “At least that means they should be safe. But I don’t know if we can handle this on our own.” She swallowed her growing apprehension. Squeezing her hand gauged her recovery. “I can fight.”
Mark did not like hearing that. The last thing he wanted was for her to be put in the middle of danger again. He would rather that responsibility be his this time. Unfortunately, after having placed his hands on his thighs and looked down at himself. he knew he did not have his gun. There would be no time to retrieve it either, meaning he would probably be useless.
The gunfire finally came to an end but that did not mean the attack was over. In fact, it was only coming closer. The front door was heard being kicked down with a single, solid hit. A small group of people was then heard entering. There was no doubt these intruders were the remaining Witch Hunters. Some went upstairs. Others entered the living room and began toward the room next over, the dining room. The last was approaching directly down the hall to the back room.
Emily turned around in her seated position and placed her hands against the toppled table. She began listening carefully for the correct time to act. The beads rattled. “Lalqus” sent the table blasting forward like a battering ram. Even if her attack missed, the door would at the very least be blocked for the moment.
However, the Hunter reacted with remarkable reflexes, able to quickly spring off his feet and roll over the top of the table. Shaw not only avoided being hit but also landed himself in the room.
Emily raised her hand to cast a barrier. He was faster to raise his rifle. The round fired from the chamber before she would be ready to speak her word of power. Death would strike in an instant. But Mark had already thrown himself in the way before the bullet had been fired, a desperate and instinctive reaction to protect Emily. Blood burst from his stomach and he keeled over in pain. Hand at the ready, Emily changed her intended spell. “Rikest,” cast a fast and lethal bolt of lightning.
Shaw cast his gun forward which acted as a conduit to absorb the energy in his place. Then he quickly moved to the side and rushed at her in an arching path.
“Rikest” was cast again. But the lightning did not go to where she was pointing. Instead, it bolted sideways, hitting the gun again because the metal was already charged and was even more conductive than before. That mistake cost her a hand as Shaw grabbed the tops of her fingers and bent them back. She could not hold in her scream of agony as her bones broke. But she silenced her pain as fast as she could to free her voice for the casting of “Chrocs” with her other hand.
Shaw was ignited in flames. Little did that seem to matter. He quickly stripped the flaming article of clothing off. Then he grabbed her by the wrist of her uninjured hand in a snap. A metal mold of some strange insignia was brandished, and he pressed it against her forearm. She screamed as her skin was seared. When he let her go, the insignia was burned on her.
Emily would never give up. She held her hand at him no matter how much the motion hurt. “Chrocs!” was screamed. But no flames appeared. That was the first time she finally felt defeat. Her magic had been sealed by the branding on her arm.
Mark had risen to his knees and was holding his gut, wanting, willing, ready to do anything to help in this dire situation. But, crack, and everything went black. Another Hunter had appeared behind and struck him in the back of the head, knocking him to the floor. A heavy stomp made sure to knock him out.
Emily looked at Mark with pain, and sadness, and disbelief, and regret that he was caught up in this. Her eyes then shifted to the Hunter, feeling uncertain whether to fear or hate him for what he had done. Then she looked back to the other Hunter standing before her, feeling exactly the same.
Shaw wandered a few steps away over to a chair that he set upright and took a seat on. He took a moment to settle. Both hands were placed just above his knees while he held great posture. His eyes were closed, a breath was taken, chin lifted, then he reopened them. After the display was complete, he drew out a fair-sized, iron bell.
Emily wanted to speak but she did not have any words. She did not know her place in this situation. She could only wait.
Shaw, himself, seemed to be waiting for something as well. But a few minutes passed with nothing happening. He became impatient enough to demand, “Call your spirit.”
“What?” Emily did not understand.
“Your summoned spirit has been quite the nuisance,” he said which alluded to his intentions. “As well as being an unnatural thing.”
“No,” Emily softly refused now fully aware of what the Hunter would do.
Shaw simply pointed behind Emily to get her to look at Mark. The gesture was both a warning and a threat. Looking at his dying body bleeding out on the floor made it very clear he would not live much longer if nothing was done. As well, the four Hunters standing over him expressed that what little time he did have left could be ended even sooner.
Emily gaped from shock followed by biting her lower lip. If she did not comply, then he would die. She felt truly terrible because she knew what she was going to do. She would never be able to forgive herself. But there was no other choice for the pain of not doing so would be far greater.
Shaw had become patient again while Emily was left to deliberate. He could tell she was going to do as he asked. Though, maybe she was hoping the gunfire would have drawn attention and was planning on waiting for help to arrive. So, he crushed that hope, “We placed plenty of perception blockers around the area. Nobody is aware of what’s happening. So, we can wait all day.”
Through quivering lips, Emily called out, “Ligaya.”
There was a shift in the air and the temperature dropped as Ligaya appeared in the room like the phantom she was. The situation she discovered herself summoned into was absolutely frightening. Even just a quick glance saw Emily slumped on the ground, found Mark appearing to be dead nearby, and recognized the Hunters completely surrounded them all. The awful everything caused a storm of emotion.
Ligaya quickly changed any feelings of concern into rage that could be used as a weapon. She did not honestly know what she could do other than attack. She hoped creating a commotion would help save her friend. Maybe a chance to run away would appear.
Before anything could be done, Shaw, along with the other Hunters, rang the iron bell that each of them possessed. The unison strike of metal clang sharply with a dull reverberation that rapidly decayed. An invisible resonance was left hanging in the air and was maintained by the continuous succession of rings. Ligaya was left almost completely immobile.
Shaw drew a small book and started to read what was supposed to be a mantra, “Defend us in battle …”
The entire room began to glow as the walls, floor, and ceiling rapidly became luminescent until completely white. It was as if they had been brought into a photo negative of the world.
As he started the next line, “Be our protection against wickedness and snares …” chains erupted from the faded surroundings.
Ligaya was bound around her arms, legs, body, and throat. They pulled taut with a rattle and unleashed sparks. She was now ensnared with no chance to escape. But she tried to pull against her restraints. Even held captive, unable to cry out, she did force the slightest movement. Her hand desperately reached for Emily. Her voice called out wordlessly, Wake up! Save Emily!
Shaw finished, “O Prince of the Host, cast out all evils and spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls.” The book was snapped shut and that was it, the exorcism was ended. The room returned to normal in a blink and Ligaya was just gone. It had been so unfair and so anticlimactic.
Emily had not been able to look at Ligaya even if that was the last chance to ever see her again. What a shameful decision. Emily feared how her heart would rend if she had looked Ligaya in her face to witness the betrayal that must have been expressed. But in that blink, having to process what happened instead of experiencing it, Emily was left with a worse scar in her mind. Ligaya had simply become no more. The guilt was already too much. So crushing. Truly killing.
Emily squeezed her temples with her mangled arms as she shook her head desperately in denial. Tears ran down her face and she cried.
“Now we have the time to talk,” Shaw declared as he put his book away. “I’ll be upfront with you. I want to know where the Apostate is.”
Emily slowly softened her sorrowful noises until becoming silent and dejected. After allowing herself a moment of regret, she answered, “Try the basement, under the stairs.”
“You’re lying,” Shaw read right away.
“You’re right.” Emily’s sad smirk admitted so. “It’s just a bathroom.”
That was not a lie. Shaw waved one of his men to go check out of curiosity. There was caution when about to open the door, unfortunately, not enough was taken. As soon as the opening was pulled, an eruption of power threw the door wide. The force caused the Hunter to be knocked off his feet. A continued pressure dragged him across the floor into the vortex on the other side before the door slammed shut.
Emily was smiling a more genuine yet cruel smile. “I should say, it used to be the bathroom before Rachael messed around with it.”
Shaw was made more interested and concerned with the redhead, but that was not his goal for right now. He asked again, “Tell me where the Apostate is.”
“I don’t know. That’s the truth.”
“You think I’d believe you after that little deception you just pulled?” He stood from the chair and approached to grab her by the chin so she could not look away from his glare. “This could have been much less painful for you.” He punched, catching her right on the side of the head and knocking her to the floor. “Where is the Apostate?”
Emily did not answer. She was so jumbled by the blow that his question had been knocked out of her head.
He lowered down right by her and asked again, “Where is the Apostate?”
There was still no answer. So, he grabbed her by the chin again. “Look at me. I asked where the Apostate was.”
“I don’t know,” she finally was able to reply even if repeating herself.
But that was unsatisfying. He stood back up and stepped on her hand. She gritted in pain, trying to free herself from under his boot. “Until we get to the point where you’re willing to tell me anything to make it stop, there is no point in me stopping. And, unfortunately for both of us, I’m certain you can hold out for quite a while. But what about him? How much longer until he’s beyond the point of no return? Where is the Apostate?”
“I don’t know,” she repeated with a stress of frustration in her voice.
He grabbed her by the hair and pulled to force her into a sitting position just to punch her in the side of the head again without letting go. A chunk of her scalp was torn off as her body slammed back onto the ground. He discarded the bundle of strands over the top of her like confetti. “Where is the Apostate?”
“I don’t know.”
He kicked her in the stomach. The hit was so hard that she involuntarily vomited. Then he repeated, “Where is the Apostate?”
Emily was unable to answer like before.
He stomped on her hand, and she screamed. Again, “Where is the Apostate?”
“I don’t know!” she cried out.
His heel planted on her throat. “I’m honestly beginning to believe you.” Whatever action he was going to take next was put on pause. He turned his head the slightest as he determined what new thing he was sensing.
Rachael was outside Emily’s home very aware something terrible was happening. Not just because of the devastation done by gunfire, but also at the fact she had heard a phantom warning only fifteen minutes before arriving here, telling her to “Wake up” and “Save Emily.”
However, entering the unknown yet obviously dangerous situation would be stupid, especially for Rachael. That did not mean she was incapable of helping. With quick consideration, she began to create a ward on the building with chalk she found on a neighbor’s stoop. Any that were unwelcome would be expelled from within once she finished.
“We need to go,” Shaw said to the other Hunters. “A ward’s being placed on the building as I speak. That must be the redhead.”
“Why not deal with her now?” a Hunter asked.
“She’s far more powerful than the others,” Shaw was concerned. “We should only try to deal with her when I know we have the advantage. Leaving is the smartest decision at the moment.”
“Understood,” the other Hunters acknowledged the order and began to make their leave out the back of the house, careful to avoid running into the other Witch.
Shaw was not yet ready to go, however, with a final responsibility needing to be fulfilled. He lowered himself beside Emily once more and drew his knife. Just as he struck what would be a killing blow, his arm was grabbed.
“What do you think you’re doing, Jeremiah?” Shaw asked with great intimidation.
But Jeremiah was not shaken in the least as he explained, “As the mediator, you were left on a need-to-know basis. It’s time you know. I see you’re hellbent on killing every Witch we encounter, but our Execution Order was only for the Apostate. Any others are to be left alone if at all possible. We can only kill outside our orders if absolutely necessary. In this situation, taking her life isn’t necessary. It would go against our orders.”
“Are you serious?” Shaw was having difficulty believing.
“I would not lie,” Jeremiah assured he was being completely serious.
“What are the Eldermen thinking?” Shaw said through annoyed anger as he disengaged. “Leaving a Witch alive?”
“You can ask them yourself when the mission is completed,” Jeremiah directed Shaw’s feelings.
“Gladly,” Shaw professed. “I want to know what fools are now running the Templar.”
With the last words said, the two Hunters walked away in quiet displeasure.
Rachael activated the ward causing a small burst of energy to explode from the exterior surface of the building. That had nearby birds take flight in fright. However, even with the area now protected, she was not in the least relieved from her worries. That was because there was no knowing what had already happened and what she might find. She needed to go inside. But, as she stood at the bottom of the stoop, her uncertainty created greater concern. To face this alone was terrifying.
That was when reassurance arrived as a car pulled up to the curb in front of the house. It was Marcy and Olivia who got out the back and rushed over to Rachael, calling out in concern, “What happened?”
Rachael did not know what to say. She was surprised to see them having expected them to be inside. That meant only Emily and Mark were here when the attack began. There was a very unlikely chance they could have dealt with the situation on their own. Rachael rushed up the steps with her hesitation forgotten about.
Marcy was right behind with the same conclusion in mind.
Olivia was not as aware, taking the time to grant a small consideration to the driver by giving a thankful wave before following inside.
Beyond the front door, down the hallway, and into the back room was where they found the terrible scene. Emily sat on the ground with Mark resting his head on her lap, blood staining where he lay. He was deathly pale and completely limp. Almost his entire shirt was soaked with blood. But, looking closely, there were no wounds left on him.
The same could not be said about Emily. Her face was badly bruised with a split lip and bloody nose. The fingers of one hand had been twisted and bent out of place. On her other arm was a square chunk of skin missing. The pealed flesh laid discarded on the ground beside the knife used for the carving.
After being left alive, for the sake of Mark, Emily’s ability to struggle against the odds had returned to her. Certainly, those feelings were a ghost of what she once held because of how things had ended, but they were enough for her to make drastic decisions. See, as long as she remained branded, she would not be able to heal him using her life magic. So, she did what she had to to be rid of the insignia.
As the other women entered the room, Emily could only say in a shallow voice, “Ligaya’s been banished, and it’s my fault.”