She frowned as the babble of angry voices shattered the peace. It sounded like a mob was approaching. Turning her head, Wynn watched in confusion as a group of women walked out of the nearby trees, heading in her direction. They were various ages, from mid-teens to a few elderly women with gray hair and wrinkled faces. The one thing they had in common was their long robes that brushed the dirt pathway and heavy black boots.
Why were they wearing matching outfits like they were in some sort of cult? Was this a memory? Had she actually been standing on this hill as the women marched toward her?
For a moment she felt a stab of hope. Was she about to discover who she was and what had happened to her? Maybe she could endure Malis’s vile stench if she could finally learn the truth.
Then the hope shattered, replaced by a surge of horror as there was a weird ripple in the air, like the blurred waves of a mirage, and suddenly all of the women were holding torches in their hands that burned with a white-hot fire. They marched toward her, the angry babble becoming an organized chant as they reached the top of the hill. Magic suddenly hummed in the air, warning Wynn that the women weren’t in a weird cult. They were part of a coven. And they were about to unleash a spell.
She desperately turned to flee, only to discover she was too late. She managed less than a dozen steps when the magic lashed out, wrapping her in bonds that were impossible to break. A scream was ripped from her throat as she felt herself lifted off the ground, floating several feet in the air as the women moved to form a circle around her struggling form.
“Stop! Please. Let me go.”
The women ignored her pleas as they closed their eyes and continued to chant. The bonds around Wynn tightened until she felt a rib crack from the pressure.
“Why?” she rasped, tears running down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”
An elderly woman stepped forward, her expression one of twisted loathing. Then she opened her eyes and Wynn caught sight of the smoldering envy she couldn’t completely hide.
“You have been judged and marked unholy by the coven,” she rasped. “Your profane magic is a gift from the devil. You are an affront to those who worship the mother earth. For that, you must die.”
Wynn frantically shook her head. “No, I didn’t do anything. I swear.”
The woman hissed, raising her torch higher. “We witnessed the magic burst out of you. The very ground shook in outrage at your blasphemy.”
Wynn struggled to think clearly as the women continued to chant, moving forward with their torches held outward. She didn’t remember these women or any devilish burst of magic. But she did remember Maya telling her that she was some sort of Void. Which meant she must have been the daughter of a woman who could use magic, maybe even one of the torch-carrying lunatics surrounding her. And her wild magic must have flared only to burn out before she could use it.
Typical. Obviously her luck had always been shitty.
On the edge of a full-blown panic attack, Wynn forced herself to stop her futile struggles and concentrate on the threads of magic inside her. The witches’ combined power was strong, but she had a few weapons of her own. She just had to be able to concentrate long enough to find the proper strand...
Wynn released a stifled sob as she realized that there were no magical threads. Not even the stupid dragon one that had been causing her such problems. It was as if they’d been stripped away. Or wait...maybe she just hadn’t collected them yet.
If this was the past, then she hadn’t had an opportunity to encounter the artifacts she needed to absorb their powers.
“She’s calling on her devil magic!” the older woman cried. “Look at the medallion around her neck. It glows with an unholy light.”
With a roar of anticipation, the women lifted the torches over their heads and threw them at Wynn with obvious glee. Wynn watched in helpless horror as they hit the spell surrounding her, igniting a wall of flames that swirled around her like a tornado. She was trapped as the flames swirled closer and closer, threatening to burn her alive, the medallion around her neck searing into her skin.
There was no way out. No way to escape. Not unless she could somehow wake up from this horrifying blast from the past. A damned shame she didn’t have a clue how she was supposed to do that.
The flames were starting to sear a path of agonizing heat over her body when the ground beneath her dangling feet began to undulate, as if there was something beneath the thick layer of soil struggling to get out. The witches didn’t seem to notice as they continued to chant and bask in the sight of her being tormented by their magic.
Wynn blinked. The world was blurry through her tears of pain, but she was certain that there was something happening beneath her. The massive surge of power felt like a volcano about to erupt. How could the witches be so oblivious?
Unless it was demon magic,a voice whispered through her tortured mind. The humans had no idea that paranormal creatures walked among them.
Another wave of flames whipped around her, searing deep into her flesh, and Wynn shrieked in pain. It was so overwhelming she nearly missed the sight of the ground abruptly bursting open like an overripe watermelon. It was at last the bright silver light bursting out of the massive hole that alerted her to the changes beneath her. A split second later she was abruptly sucked downward, caught in a funnel of air that reached up and grabbed her.
She heard the distant sounds of the coven’s fury as their prey was snatched from their clutches, but she was too intent on her free fall through empty space to appreciate their bleating.
Waving her arms as if she could learn to fly in the next two seconds, Wynn fell through the blinding light, landing on a stone floor with enough impact to snap her spine in two and crack several ribs. The pain should have been overwhelming, but she felt nothing. Either she was paralyzed, or she was already dead.
Both seemed legit possibilities.
Laying spread-eagle on the ground, Wynn closed her eyes as she felt a presence approaching. She didn’t want to know what awful thing was about to happen next. She was tired and nauseous and incapable of stirring up the urge to fight.
Expecting the worst, Wynn flinched as warmth spread over her. But there was no pain this time. In fact, the warmth seemed to be knitting together her broken bones and even healing the burns on her face.
What was happening?
