Last Life

THE DOOR LEADING OUT into the rear courtyard suddenly opened, and a small, black-haired head appeared in the entryway. A cute young witch (she might have been sixteen years old, give or take a year) shot me an intrigued glance, then turned to look at Yvonne.

She caught a loaded look from the blond-haired beauty, and quickly disappeared, closing the door behind her. A few seconds later, I heard the flapping of wings outside the window, and couldn’t resist a little chuckle in my mind. A bird was already on its way to Madleyn.

“What an honor, hosting the conqueror of the Atalians in my very own shop,” said Yvonne with a graceful curtsey. She was speaking with affected formality.

Her poise would have been the envy of any lioness at court.

“Oh!” I feigned surprise; I figured I might as well join in her little game. “My dear lady — have you really not heard the latest news?”

“What news is that, Your Lordship?” Yvonne’s face tensed up ever so slightly.

“There are new heroes at court these days,” I replied. “His Highness Prince Philippe has been designated conqueror of the Atalians. Something, of course, which he would never have been able to achieve without the help of his ever-loving uncle, the Duke de Bauffremont, as well as that of his father-in-law to be, the Duke de Gondy. And I won’t even delve into the subject of the glittering victory won by the Marquis de Gondy, commander of His Majesty’s forces in Northern Bergonia.” Find the newest release on novel⟡fire.net

Yvonne’s eyes narrowed; she looked me up and down, pretending as she did so that it was a purely innocent glance. After appraising my outfit, she chuckled, then laughed:

“Designated? Is that how heroes are made?” “My dear lady,” I smiled. “That’s quite an interesting question, but I think the answer’s quite obvious.”

“Do you?” Yvonne’s delicate eyebrow rose ever so slightly.

“Of course,” I nodded. “Any experienced courtier will tell you that, in any civilized country, the King’s faithful subjects hold no one in regard other than those heroes the King himself chooses to designate for them.”

“So the tales of your victories are lies, then?” The corners of her lips rose into a smile.

“I wouldn’t say that,” I said. “We really did hand the Atalians a number of defeats.”

“Sounds quite contradictory, doesn’t it?” The witch’s eyes narrowed mischievously.

“Not at all,” I shook my head. “The truth is that my compatriots and I were simply carrying out our duty to His Majesty. The noblemen I just mentioned were the ones who achieved the truly heroic feats.”

Yvonne studied me attentively for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. She actually went on laughing for quite a while. After wiping away the tears of laughter at the corners of her eyes, the witch responded:

“Please forgive my lack of restraint, Your Lordship.”

“I’m glad I could bring some laughter to your day, my lady,” I replied, before adding: “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“A minute ago, you implied that this shop belonged to you,” I said. “But I seem to remember a different owner. Lucille, if I’m not mistaken. She was the one who arranged my meeting with Lady Madleyn on my last visit. As it happens, I’ve come here to ask her to repeat the favor. I need to meet with the head of your coven.”

The expression on Yvonne’s face changed instantly. Taut ribbons of muscle tensed up on her cheekbones. An icy sheen appeared in her eyes. As though purely by chance, she shot a glance at a pocket watch that was lying on the countertop. I knew that her message had probably already been sent, and that Madleyn was already hurrying to meet us. Yvonne just had to do the easy part: delay her “esteemed” guest long enough for the coven mother to arrive.

“I could arrange that meeting for you as well,” replied Yvonne in a calm, even voice.

She had completely ignored my question about Lucille.

“Excellent,” I said. “Just give me the time and the place.”

“Never fear, Your Lordship,” said Yvonne with a wave of her hands. “I’ll send a servant to my mother’s house right this minute. I’m sure she’ll come down here immediately. I’m sure she’ll be very happy to see an old friend. For the time being, I suggest that you wait in the garden, if you don’t mind.”

Yvonne turned halfway around and pointed to the door that led into the inner courtyard.

“It’d be my pleasure,” I nodded. I stepped around the side of the counter and followed the witch, who was clearly happy that I was willing to wait.

Once we were in the corridor, she whispered something into the black-haired witch’s ear, at which the latter nodded and vanished behind a small, nondescript door in the wall. Wow, I thought... This show just keeps going and going.

A trail of delicate scents — jasmine, sandalwood, and vanilla — was drifting through the air behind Yvonne as she walked. Thin, elegant neck, dignified posture, light but confident stride... Madleyn had obviously spared no expense on her favorite daughter’s training. Plus, judging by the intense saturation of her enemy system, Yvonne’s gift had undergone some serious development since our last meeting.

“If you please, Your Lordship,” the blond-haired witch said softly as she pointed to a little gazebo (which I was already familiar with from my first visit).

Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, I smiled and looked around at the well-kept garden, then sat down on one of the gazebo’s comfortable wicker chairs.

“How cozy and calm it is back here.”

I switched to true vision for a split second, but Yvonne didn’t notice. Like me, she was looking around at the garden with a smile on her face. My scan revealed that since my last visit, a great many changes had been made to the band of runes that wound its way invisibly around the whole garden.

They had added runes for control, paralysis, and weakness. Taken together, it was some very powerful magic. I was afraid even to imagine how much life force had gone into weaving that runic barrier.

I glanced at Yvonne. I could see sparks of anticipation and happiness dancing in her dark green eyes. Also, for just a moment, her mask of adorable meekness slipped aside, revealing her for what she really was: a pitiless, bloodthirsty predator. Basically, the witch had managed to lure me into the center of her web like an unsuspecting fly. One quick spell, and the lid of her trap would slam shut. The fact that she hadn’t already done so meant that the magic was connected directly to the coven mother.

“I’m glad you like it here, Your Lordship,” said Yvonne, with the same mischievous smile as before. “May I offer you wine?”

She pointed to a silver jug and a row of glasses, which stood on a nearby table next to a platter of grapes. It seemed that the black-haired witch had probably set everything up while Yvonne and I were talking in the shop.

“I wouldn’t say no,” I replied. “As long as you’ll keep me company.”

“My pleasure,” she replied as she approached the table.

As she picked up the jug and started pouring wine into our glasses, Yvonne leaned over and made another prominent display of her cleavage (once again pretending not to notice that she was doing it). Her big breasts rose and fell in time with her breathing, and her delicate back bent slightly into a graceful arch. The scent of her magical perfume was literally wrapping itself around me.

Hm, I thought... I’m actually surprised that young dandy managed to get out of here with anything at all. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d let her take the shirt off his back. Presumably, though, the clever witch had allowed him to leave so that he’d come back later on, with an even bigger stack of cash. And he WOULD be back — I had no doubt of that whatsoever. Someone like Yvonne wouldn’t release her grip on her prey until she had gouged out every last obol.

“Thank you,” I said as I accepted the small wine glass from Yvonne’s hands. I was admiring her beauty, and I wasn’t trying to hide it. “To many happy returns!”

“To many happy returns, Your Lordship!” She said in a hearty, deep voice as our glasses clinked gently together.

Before taking a sip, I made a gentle circular motion with my glass to stir up its aromatic compounds; then, closing my eyes, I took a sniff. As I did so, I noticed that the witch tensed up a little bit.

“Mmm... A wonderful bouquet. Aquitanian. One of my favorites.”

I took a sip, then shook my head slowly, feigning a deep feeling of pleasure. I had to strain a bit to do this. Compared to Francois de Gramont’s collection, the witches’ wine was average, at best. Not only that, but they had also obviously stirred some mix of herbs into it. Hm, I thought... Actually, it’s something familiar. Some sort of sedative, judging by the distinctive sour notes.

I noticed the satisfied look on Yvonne’s face, and the fact that she was just touching her lips to her glass for show (rather than actually drinking). In my mind, I had to laugh. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was already imagining how proud the coven mother would be to see the results of such artfully-executed work.

Yvonne spent the next hour asking me about the war in Bergonia. I answered her questions, and I could see her delight at the fact that I continued to take sips out of my glass from time to time as I did so. I also made a point of yawning copiously and often, making it clear to the witch that her plan had worked.

Yvonne was tense for a little while, but she gradually got more interested in our conversation. Time moved slowly in this world. Information about a given event was almost invariably obsolete by the time it filtered down to the common people, and even then it came in the form of rumors whose factual content had been altered beyond recognition.

Suddenly, however, Yvonne was sitting with a person who was not only a firsthand witness to the biggest events of the day, but actually their main protagonist. As such, Yvonne forgot about her role as a red-hot seductress for a little while and just listened, eyes and mouth open in amazement like a fifteen-year-old girl. She was so engrossed in my story that she didn’t even notice me creating several energy strands, which I then sent into the mana channels of the huge witching web, sucking all the energy out of its runes.

“I was starting to think this day would never come!” A loud, mirthful voice rang out from the direction of the door, causing Yvonne to jump.

The blond-haired witch shook her head as though she’d just emerged from a spell of hypnosis. Without paying any attention to Madleyn, who was walking up the garden path in the company of four adult witches, Yvonne turned to stare back at me with a frown. I smiled and shot her a wink.

The witch’s eyes narrowed; her cheekbones grew sharper, and she hissed:

“You...”

Ignoring her reaction, I turned to look at the old coven mother, whose angry glare was already burning into me from where she stood, frozen, across from the gazebo. The witches accompanying her took positions in a semicircle around her. I could see their fingernails getting longer; within a few seconds, they had turned into big, curved, black claws.

“I must admit, Yvonne performed her task very well indeed,” I said, leaning nonchalantly back on my chair and throwing one leg up over the other. “She got her bearings very quickly and sent a bird right away. Then she carefully lured me out to the courtyard, like a sheep to the slaughter, and even managed to pour some sleeping potion into me.”

I turned to look at Yvonne again; she was looking back at me in confusion. Any trace of my former sleepiness was long gone. Cocking my head to the side ever so slightly, I squinted my right eye just a little bit.

“Agh... Just a shame that she wasted such a valuable product.”

“It’s understandable,” Madleyn grunted, having walked a few more feet toward the gazebo before stopping again. “My youngest has never had to deal with the fox tribe before.”

The blond-haired witch stood up from her chair, shot me an incinerating glare, and then hurried off to stand behind the backs of the four witches who were still standing a little bit further down the garden path.

“And you have?” I asked, still sitting in my chair as though it were a throne.

“It’s happened,” the Elder Witch nodded. “But that’s not what you and I are here to talk about today.”

“Then what ARE we going to talk about?” I asked.

“As if you don’t know that already.” A flash of rage flitted through Madleyn’s eyes, although her voice remained steady. “Or must I remind you of Lucille?”

“Are you accusing me of her murder?” I asked, staring straight into the Elder Witch’s eyes and switching to the informal register of witching tongue. “You think I sent the shade that killed her?”

“So you know how she died, then?” Madleyn leaned forward, as did the witches standing behind her.

“Yes,” I admitted with a shrug. “Gervin told me about it. The matagot from Potters’ Alley. You can verify that easily, if you want to.”

“So you went to visit the Badger?” Madleyn’s eyes narrowed.

“I did, but I didn’t find him,” I said. “If you know where he is, or at least how to get in touch with him, I — “

“You think that I’m going to HELP you, after you got one of my daughters eaten by a Shadow beast?” Madleyn abruptly cut me off. “It was a miracle that we managed to chase that monster out of here. Otherwise it would’ve killed my entire family!”

Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, the Elder Witch began to speak in a furious hiss:

“You should never have come onto my land alone, fox. Your victories have gone to your head. You thought you were invincible, and now you’re going to pay for that mistake with your life. Today’s the day that a stupid little fox pays off his debts, and his heart makes the coven’s hearth a little bit stronger.”

Taking a step forward, Madleyn added angrily:

“You said you were raised by an Elder Witch. But now I see that you’re nothing but a self-assured little liar.”

With that, she started rattling off a spell right before my eyes, calling on the witching runes woven into the garden around me — runes whose power I had already drained. Her eyes started to widen more and more with every word. Amazement and confusion crept across her face. The witches standing behind her started exchanging surprised glances; they clearly didn’t understand why nothing was happening.

Meanwhile, I stood up calmly from my chair, set my wine glass down on the table, and approached the steps. Seeing that the spider web that should have immobilized me clearly wasn’t working, Madleyn suddenly turned to glance at one of the stones on the garden path.

I chuckled. That was one of the first ones I had deactivated. When the Elder Witch finally realized what had happened, she turned her flabbergasted gaze toward me.

“It can’t be,” she whispered; then, regaining her composure, she shouted: “Kill him!”

The witches rushed forward, but I beat them to it — with one long dash, I leapt down the path, materialized a step away from Madleyn, and grabbed her firmly by the throat. Golden haze swarmed out across my hand and took the shape of a fox’s paw.

“Everybody freeze!” I shouted, staring into the coven mother’s horrified eyes. “One single move and I rip her head off!”

The witches started backing away. I cast an icy glare around at the whole group. Their eyes were like saucers. They were all staring at the golden mana around my arm, as if hypnotized.

Then I turned to look at Madleyn.

“Tell them not to do anything stupid.”

“Back,” the Elder Witch croaked. Her daughters obeyed, taking a few steps back.

“Good,” I nodded. “Now — how about that talk?”

“What do you want?” Madleyn growled.

Still holding the witch by the throat, I lowered my left hand into the pocket on my belt and took out a black brut. I lifted it up to Madleyn’s eyes and asked:

“You know what this is?”

The coven mother stared at the coal-black brut, and her skin went even paler than it already was. She flinched violently, trying instinctively to push herself back; when she felt my fingers dig into her throat even harder, though, she froze.

“Fine...” She gasped. I released my grip a little bit, and she continued: “We’ve had our fun. That’s enough. Let my daughters leave, and then you and I can talk. That’s why you came, isn’t it?”

“Very well,” I agreed, before clarifying: “Everybody but Yvonne can leave. It’ll be beneficial for her to hear this conversation. And I know you’ll be calmer if she’s around.”

Madleyn obviously didn’t like the suggestion, but (with a hint of resignation) she nevertheless agreed:

“Leave us... Except Yvonne.”

The young woman stepped out from behind the backs of her elder sisters and walked over to her mother, keeping a wary eye on me the entire time. Once the other witches had reluctantly retreated into the house, I turned to Madleyn:

“Explain to your daughter here that I just saved her and her sisters’ lives by grabbing you by the throat.”

“She’s not an idiot. She knows that already,” replied Madleyn, who was staring intently at Yvonne. The latter responded with a silent nod; she was still staring at the shimmering golden fox paw.

“Good,” I said as I slowly released my hold on the witch’s throat. The golden haze dissipated in the blink of an eye.

The coven mother grunted (exactly the way an irritated elderly person would), then rubbed a hand across her neck. Then, still sounding hoarse, she headed toward the gazebo:

“Let’s sit. No reason to stand here the whole time.”

Yvonne hurried over to walk beside her mother. Holding her by the elbow, she helped her climb up the steps.

“Soo-oo...” Madleyn sighed heavily as she took a seat in a chair. Yvonne sat down in the chair next to her.

The coven mother’s antipathy had disappeared surprisingly quickly. Only then did I notice that there was gray hair sticking out from beneath the shawl on her head, and that her face was very wrinkled — much more so than it had been just a few minutes before.

“I’m getting old,” replied the coven mother as she noticed me looking at her. “I accused you of being overconfident, and yet somehow I failed to recognize the ancient power in you. Also, I’m ashamed to admit, I didn’t even notice that you drank all the mana out of my runes. Heh heh... I’m going to have to fill them all back up now.”

“I get underestimated a lot,” I shrugged as I sat down in a chair across from the old witch.

“That brut.” Madleyn nodded at the crystal in my hand. “Where’d you get it?”

“I took it from the soulcatcher who ordered his shade to occupy your daughter’s body after her death,” I said. “Yes, the Frozen spears tortured her for information about me. But that doesn’t mean you can accuse me of getting her killed. And I’ll tell you something else, too — they did everything they could to turn you against me. You think you actually managed to fight off that shade? That soulcatcher had several dark spirits under his control at the time. He could have sent them all in. He could easily have wiped you and your children off the map.”

I could see by the look in her eyes that Madleyn was starting to piece things together.

“Where is the soulcatcher now?”

“I sent him back to the Abyss, right after doing the same to his mistress,” I replied. Noting the question in her eyes, I said: “He was acting on orders from one of the Younger Hrimthurs.”

Madleyn jolted to attention. She fixed her gaze firmly on me.

“Oh, Most Luminous Mother... So it’s true?” The old witch whispered in terror. She had finally realized that I wasn’t lying. “So they’re back...”

Yvonne kept looking back and forth between me and her mother with eyes like dinnerplates.

“Yes,” I nodded. “And as far as I understand, they’ve been back for a while now.”

I spent the next hour giving her a very compressed version of everything that I knew about the followers of Hoar the Wicked, without revealing any of my own personal secrets.

Every word I uttered seemed to darken the expression on Madleyn’s face. When I finished, she was silent for a moment, and then she asked:

“Why did you come to see me?”

“I know what’s happening in the city,” I replied. “Your clan has problems. While you’ve been trying to keep your family afloat by living under human laws, the rest of the covens have been gathering strength via the old rites. After that shade attacked you, the other families sensed your weakness immediately. I also know that Camille, the mother of the biggest coven in Herouxville, wants to take over your land and your daughters. She’s going to challenge you very soon. Judging by what you’ve told me about her, you don’t stand a chance.”

Madleyn lowered her head slightly and glowered at me from beneath her furrowed brow. Her lips had turned into a thin, compressed line. Her aquiline nose was shaking ever so slightly. And her fingertips had dug their way into the armrests of her chair. Yvonne, sitting next to her, had also recoiled and tensed up.

“For someone who’s been so far from the capital recently, you’re suspiciously well informed,” Madleyn finally said. “Although you don’t need to be a genius to guess who exactly has been supplying you with information. The first-born were always very devoted to the aurings.”

I just shrugged. She was right. The nisse had certainly told me a lot. Including a great deal of information about the budding conflict between the witches.

“Which is all well and good, of course, but I still haven’t heard you answer my question,” said Madleyn. “Why did you come to see me?”

“I could give you something that would scare off any hunters from other covens. Forever. In fact, they wouldn’t even come anywhere near your territory or your family ever again,” I replied.

“And what’s that? What could you give me?” Madleyn was trying to sound irritated and snappy, but I could see straight through her by that point. The frequent flashes in her energy system made it pretty clear that my words had made a profound impression on her.

I raised a hand and pointed it at a tree, which was growing about fifteen steps away from the gazebo. As the witches looked on in amazement, a Chaos Scythe cut through one of the lower branches and sent it falling to the ground with a dull thump.

“Swear loyalty to me, and you’ll get a portion of the ancient power once your transformation ritual is complete,” I explained calmly.

Given Yvonne’s widened pupils, shaking hands, and accelerated breathing, she was obviously in a state of mild shock. But the look in Madleyn’s eyes was different. She had decided that it was time to act.