Witch in the Wind by Deeks B.C

Author:Deeks, B.C.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WriteAdvice Press
Published: 2013-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Marcus rolled his shoulders to release the tension as he waited in the cluster of trees at the edge of Lost Lake. A fine mist shimmered in the crisp night air over the water. At this hour, everything around him was black as pitch with only a few stars in the distance to reflect off the water.

Worry gnawed at his gut and knotted his muscles. He checked his watch. He had to wait until the witching hour to contact Council. He needed the extra power it would give him to wrap a secrecy veil over his usual communication spell. He glanced around to make sure no mortals were wandering nearby. Worst case, he could wipe a mortal’s memory although that tended to leave residual brain damage.

Minutes ticked by. Another look at the time. Finally. He cast the initial spells. Then, clearing his mind, he sent a focused thought down through them into the depths of the lake, a summons to his superiors.

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and waited. The response could take a few minutes. Even Marcus knew not to rush Council, but patience wasn’t one of his virtues. His temper sparked too close to the surface. He pushed it back. Now wasn’t the time. He’d been given a straightforward assignment. Avy hadn’t been part of it. She made everything about his job frustrating. Harder.

His mind wandered. Avy was never far from his thoughts which added to his discomfort. His little witch would continue to be a menace until she learned to control her magic. Her windstorm had been a close call. The sooner he got Council’s permission to teach Avy to control her power, the safer everyone would be.

Restlessness started to set in. He shifted his feet and scrubbed his hands over his face. He liked Avy. He felt drawn to her in ways he didn’t understand. He hated that he’d had to tell her about her parents’ disgrace. They should have told her. Prepared her. Why didn’t they?

His reverie was interrupted by the sudden boiling on the lake’s surface. The night sky absorbed the moonlight and showered the area in a phosphorescent glow. A misty apparition moved towards him hovering a foot above the wave peaks. It was Pelles Ferran, the oldest Council member at 250 years of age.

Pelles Ferran was OverMaster and therefore oversaw all Council decisions. At the sight of his mentor and friend, relief washed over Marcus like a warm shower.

Pelles wore the deep purple cloak of his office which completely enveloped his small body. Council rarely wore their ceremonial gowns anymore but with the increasing tensions, Pelles had made a point of dusting his off. In the darkness of the night, his head appeared to float in the air. Disembodied. The contrast with his silver wisps of hair and pale white face enhanced the illusion.

“The others are on their way,” Pelles said. The familiar voice sounded muffled as it drifted to Marcus on the shore.

Dread settled over Marcus. “The others?” Pelles was his contact while he was on the mortal side.

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