The Ether Witch Volume 2

Ansar's nails dug into his palms.

His boots scraped against the gravel of Wixim's cave as he paced. "It's been a fortnight since Aradia disappeared. How has she not returned?"

The golden dragon's eyes cracked open from his spot curled up on a large rock.

Wixim sighed.

He missed Harris.

"Mr. Ansar!"

Spinning around, his gaze landing on one of the Daxarian witches who had joined them, Ansar straightened in expectation.

"Our informant from the palace has sent a missive saying the Daxarian queen left a few days ago to come after us," the witch relayed grimly.

Ansar's jaw worked as he tried not to lose his temper.

"Have we received any word from the Coven of Wittica about sending a ship?"

"No news yet."

Ansar looked toward Wixim, his frustration bright in his brown eyes.

The dragon stared back, bored.

"You couldn't have just eaten the queen?" Ansar asked tightly.

A low growl rumbled in the back of Wixim's throat.

If the human thought it was so easy battling the burning witch, he was welcome to try it himself.

"Alright. We'll start to pack up. Wixim, you will fly us to Haeson. We'll commandeer a ship of our own and head toward Daxaria. You will come with us."

Wixim slowly lifted his long neck, until he could glare down sufficiently at Ansar.

He hadn't really cared about the human that allied himself closely with Aradia. He loved her, that much was obvious, and he took good care of her, but Wixim had little patience for delicate beings giving him attitude when they should be grateful for his help. If Aradia did not return soon he may have to think again about joining the devil…

Ansar stared back up at Wixim, unperturbed by the show of warning.

Wixim snarled, then before he could have time to react, he swooped down, and wrapped his mouth around Ansar.

He didn't bite, but he did lift his head up and shake the human around in his mouth before spitting him back down on his cave floor.

The Daxarian witch who had remained in the cave and seen the whole thing squeaked as Ansar let out a loud groan from the drool pool he found himself sprawled in.

He coughed several times, struggling to come to all fours, but when he did, and he finally managed to open his eyes, he discovered Wixim's green gaze boring into him, mere inches from his face.

Wixim huffed, sending Ansar's wet hair fluttering back..

He watched the drenched human take a fortifying breath, his shoulders slumping forward.

"Sorry."

Wixim waited.

"I'm sorry that I was rude to you. Will you please help us get to Haeson?"

Wixim tilted his head and tapped his claw.

It took the human a few moments to guess what it was he was waiting for him to say.

Ansar looked over his shoulder at the witch who was wringing her hands. "Leave us."

She gave a quick bow, and practically bolted from the cave.

While shaking his hands in an effort to dry them, Ansar stepped away from Wixim before rounding back to face him, his former brusqueness gone.

"We need reinforcements. Especially when Aradia reappears. Waiting around for her to come back means risking being caught," Ansar explained. "I don't like leaving her alone here anymore than you do, but getting her back with just who we have now—yourself included—isn't enough with the Daxarian queen in the Zinferan palace and the concubine no longer of use to us."

Wixim took a moment to consider this reasoning.

While he was by no means pleased about the idea of abandoning Aradia, her companion was right.

"I recommend you come with us to Daxaria."

Wixim's head came up.

"I'm going to send another missive to the Coven of Wittica to try and get them to intercept Tamlin Ashowan. He needs to be captured and held with the boy until Aradia can get her hands on them."

Another rumble rolled out of Wixim.

Ansar paused at this. "I didn't say we should hurt them—barring Tamlin fighting against us," he added with a bit of poison in his voice…

While he was reasoning out their next steps perfectly well, Wixim knew that the human's intense hatred toward the Ashowan family was unlikely to resolve itself; even once Aradia had returned.

Wixim readjusted his position on the rock, crossing his scaly legs over one another.

Regardless of how Ansar felt however… He had made a serious oversight.

Wixim stared at him. Hoping he would realize the fact.

Ansar frowned up at Wixim, evidently not connecting the dots like the dragon had hoped he would.

"So will you come with us?" Ansar pressed.

Sighing, Wixim dropped his head in frustration, but gave a slow nod of assent.

Ansar frowned. "Is something wrong with my plan?"

Wixim nodded again.

"The part about going to get help?"

Wixim shook his head.

"The part about you coming with us?"

Again, Wixim indicated that was not the issue.

"About arranging the coven to capture Tamlin Ashowan?"

Wixim raised a claw and tapped his nose in confirmation.

"What about it?"

The dragon gave Ansar a flat look in response.

The human appeared equally annoyed by the difficulty in communicating.

Aradia had been how Wixim had been able to relay his thoughts in the past.

"You don't think I should try to capture Tamlin Ashowan… Is it because you think he is too powerful?"

Wixim tilted his head side-to-side.

"Is it because you worry the devil will get hurt in the process?"

Wixim made the same motion with his head to indicate that this was also part of the issue, but not the main one.

With a great sigh and no small amount of shelving his dignity, Wixim lifted himself onto his hind legs, and mimed the shape of a dome.

"I don't… know what that means."

"Hrr," Wixim grumbled.

Then, he mimed holding a frying pan, shaking it, and tossing something in the air.

Ansar watched blankly.

Wixim tried stirring an imaginary pot.

Ansar blinked.

A quiet roar echoed out of Wixim before he cradled his arms together as though rocking a baby, then puffed his chest up.

Ansar's eyebrows shot toward his hairline.

"Tamlin Ashowan… Is going to have another baby…?"

Wixim was tempted to eat Ansar for real.

Luckily, Ansar belatedly put the pieces together. "The house witch! Tamlin's father!"

Wixim flopped back and nodded.

"You're worried what the house witch will do if he learns his son is captured. I see… Well, that would only be a real issue if the house witch was aware of his son being taken by the coven. His wife and children are at large, and thanks to both of the covens' interference with the missives to and from the monarchies, they have next to no information."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Wixim wanted to caution Ansar on underestimating the house witch, but doubted he'd be able to act out the intricacies of his point so that the human could understand.

The house witch had been favored by the Gods, and so any interference from him could lead to greater problems than they could manage. Even with two covens at their backs. Fate that was already woven was hard to pull free of.

"We'll leave after sun down for you to start the first trip to Haeson. I will wait behind with a few others. I know it isn't likely, but I am hoping Aradia reappears before you come back for the last of us, and while the Daxarian queen is out in the forest we can simply swoop in and pick her up." A sad smile touched Ansar's face.

Wixim knew that the human's wish wasn't likely to come true. Not that he had specific reasons how he knew, aside from the fact that he knew Tamlin was powerful. And so keeping her captive in some mysterious place regardless of his proximity was not out of the question.

But there was no point in trying to convey this to Aradia's companion, and so he watched the young man leave the cave.

Settling back down on his rock, Wixim slowly closed his eyes again.

While he still didn't relish in the idea of fighting with Elisara, he was looking forward to the chance to try and get a sort of revenge on the blasted cat belonging to the house witch that had called himself an empurror.

Kraken the cat would, if Wixim had his way, learn in the near future that ancient beasts were to be respected without question.

The little hairball would definitely think twice about swatting at his tongue at the very least…

***

"A bit of a wider footing… There you are!" Captain Taylor cajoled.

A sweeping arch of a wooden sword through the air was met with an encouraging whoop from the sidelines.

It was a beautiful summer day, and Antony was receiving some rare attention from the captain of Daxaria's military to work on his sword training. The boy smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks.

Before she'd left, it had been the queen that had taken on the task of educating her sons in swordsmanship… But since she had been in Zinfera, their studies had fallen to the wayside.

Antony reset his feet, intending to repeat the move he had just executed, when a knight rushed forward.

"Pardon me, Captain Taylor, but His Majesty and Lady Mackenzie are requesting your presence."

"Ah. Excuse me, Your Highness."

"We only just started!" Antony called dejectedly, the tip of his wooden sword falling to the dirt.

Captain Taylor smiled apologetically. "It may only take a moment. Mind continuing to practice what I just showed you?"

Antony's lips pressed together.

He battled against complaining. He'd been told time and time again that things were very busy for his father's council, and with his mother away things were especially tough.

So he didn't say anything.

Even though his throat tightened.

The captain was already striding out of the training ring, leaving Antony alone with his training dummies as the knights around him worked on their own.

He stared down at the ground.

What was the point in learning swordsmanship? It wasn't like they were going to let him be king, anyway.

Even if he wanted to become the captain one day, wouldn't that mean witches weren't allowed to do that?

It was all confusing, and it made him angry.

The pleasant breeze that had been weaving its way over the ring strengthened, and the wispy clouds above started to thicken.

Antony could feel tears starting to burn his eyes.

He didn't understand what was going on, and the grown ups didn't like answering his questions.

Maybe he should just run away… It wasn't like he was that important anymore anyway.

His own father barely had time for him or his brothers aside from bedtime, and during the day the only people they really got to talk to were their teachers. Grandpa tried to see them at breakfast, but he was worried about grandma…

And Uncle Tam was gone.

The temperature in the ring continued to lower, as the clouds above let out an ominous rumble.

A few of the knights near Antony turned their sights to the sky in confusion…

But then one of them glanced at the prince.

"Your Highness? Are you…"

"I'm fine!" Antony snapped.

A crack of thunder that sounded like it shattered the sky rang out, making the earth tremble.

The men all took a step back, and Antony felt more wretched than ever.

Barely swallowing past the lump in his throat, he turned on his heel, and hurried over to the exit to the training ring, his ears burning.

He'd run away.

He'd hide. Then he wouldn't get upset and make it rain any more.

Maybe he'd come back once his ma was home…

"Hey, Antony!"

He'd just set a foot on the bottom step of the castle when he heard Charlie's voice.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw both Charlie and Asher bolting toward him coming from the direction of the kitchens.

"Hey," he said glumly when Charlie and Asher skidded to a halt.

"We were going into the forest to play dragon and knights! Want to come?" Asher asked brightly.

"We heard thunder though, so maybe we can play in the greenhouse!" Charlie suggested, turning his grin to his oldest brother.

Antony's grip on the handle of his wooden sword tightened.

He debated not telling his brothers his plan, but…

Something Uncle Tam had told him ages ago sprang to his mind.

Your brothers are your first friends. Hang on to them as best you can. Listen to them and make sure they listen to you.

"Hey… Charlie? Asher?"

"Yeah?" Both Charlie and Asher tilted their heads in an identical manner as they answered in unison.

"I'm gonna run away. Want to come?"

Charlie and Asher paused in surprise.

Antony felt his heart slam against his chest.

They were going to tell on him. He just knew it!

Then he'd have to hear a lecture from his grandpa and father about—

"Sure! You pack our clothes, Asher gets the food, and I'll go make up a story to tell granda Norman about why we miss dinner!" Charlie plotted seamlessly.

All at once, relief and gratitude swelled in Antony's chest.

He struggled not to cry as a comforting warmth seized him. "I'll… I'll also steal some maps so that we… So we know where to go."

"How about Sorlia? It's the most fun!" Asher crowed delightedly.

Charlie grinned. "And if the grown ups catch us, we can just say we were moving before them to help! We're supposed to go there anyway, right?"

Antony couldn't help but smile back at his brother. "Right." He then looked to Asher. "Don't just steal cookies for this, okay? We need meat… And… bread! Cheese! Maybe apples."

Asher's mouth pursed in displeasure and vexation. "... But some cookies right?"

"Some," Antony agreed with a nod.

Then, Antony put his hand on Asher's shoulder. Charlie put his hand on Antony's, and Asher put his on Charlie's.

It was their secret way of agreeing on a plan before breaking up to see it through.

The three boys nodded to each other, and then, without another word, they all marched off to complete their tasks.

Not once doubting that this was anything but a spectacular plan.