That Frigid Fargin Witch (The Legend of Vanx Malic Book 4) by Mathias M. R

Author:Mathias, M. R. [Mathias, M. R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781494208400
Published: 2014-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Thirteen

There are many ways to skin a cat,

or so the saying’s said.

But it takes a witch to kill a witch,

or at least to keep one dead.

– Frosted Soul

Chelda hadn’t known what to expect when she was led up a winding tunnel by a pair of pixie men clad in garish plate mail. There were smudges of brownish-red blood dried on the pixies’ armor, and they were carrying silvery swords that would have seemed like table dirks, at best, in her hands. Her escorts didn’t say much about what waited above, other than to tell her that the Shadowmane extended beyond the protective ring of lasher vine shrubs and blood thorns, but not by much.

“The presence of your spell-forged steel will be a great boon against the larger foes. But you will have to mind your footing ‘round the brownies and gnomes. They are quick with their needles but most are untrained. They fight in packs and you could crush them three at a time with one misstep.”

“Then warn them to stay clear of me,” Chelda snorted, “for I will be cleaving meat and bone, not poking pinholes.”

“I like her,” the other pixie warrior chuckled, and they continued up in silence.

The lift stopped and they stepped into a short passage that ended in a stone arc similar to the one they had entered in the fairy mound. This arch was sizably bigger and the stonework was of a far higher quality, with leafy, eye-blurring magic symbols carved all around the opening. The opening itself was an opaque sheen of sparkling quicksilver and when the first pixie walked through, it was as if he were walking into a liquid wall and disappearing as he went.

“It’s alright,” said the other pixie, noticing the look on her face. “Just remember, if the way is not open, you have to go around the Heart Tree five times to your right as you face the trunk, for it to reveal itself.”

He went through then, and with a great sigh of resignation, Chelda followed.

An explosive sensation greeted her. The tunnel had been silent and dim. She hadn’t expected such an abrupt change. Her eyes were suddenly filled with dazzling sights and more shades of green than she thought possible. Her ears, however, were filled with the shouts, screams and clanging of battle. There was a gibbering, high-pitched cackle; deep, rumbling snarls; and the plinking thrum of tiny bows. There was also the heat. It hit her like a wet blanket and forced her to shrug out of her coat, leaving her upper half clad in naught but a thin undershirt and a padded vest.

As she glanced around the glade-like oval of open ground surrounding the Heart Tree, she wished she had some plated gauntlets and thicker, knee-high boots. The battle berries were still working on her, though, so she started out toward a bearish monstrosity that was getting the better of a trio of pike-wielding elves. From overhead and behind her an arrow streaked down into the creature’s shoulder.

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