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She stopped on the other side of the road and then got out and ran toward us. “Here,” she said, shoving the pack at me. “I put in everything I can think of, including a small first aid kit. You want me with you?”
I shook my head. “Better if you remain here, and safe, just in case I need to call on your strength.”
While the main task of any familiar was to monitor and protect their witch, they were also a lifeline—a last avenue of strength to draw on if all else had failed. Though it was extremely rare, there had been cases where familiars were so completely drained by their witch that death had claimed them. And in the case of spirit familiars, that meant becoming a shade and never being able to either operate in—or communicate with—anyone in the spirit or the living realms again for all eternity. Rather weirdly, that didn’t seem to apply to cat familiars, who simply moved on. We had no idea if that would also apply in Belle’s case, and I had no intention of ever discovering if it did.
She nodded and crossed her arms. “Be careful. The force of the spell has almost faded, but I wouldn’t put it past this bastard to have a second line of defense.”
I grabbed Belle’s silver knife out of the backpack and then slung the pack over my shoulder. Blue fire flickered briefly down the blade, evidence enough that the lingering spell remnants were indeed dark in origin.
Aiden switched on the flashlight. The sudden brightness had me blinking. “Do you want me to lead the way?”
I hesitated and then shook my head. “Just in case there is a secondary line of defense.”
He nodded and motioned me on. I took a deep breath and then headed for the trees, carefully following the flashlight-lit path that Ashworth and I had created yesterday. Aiden kept close, his tension so fierce I could almost smell it.
Then, from deeper into the trees, a groggy voice said, “Boss, that you?”
Tala. Aiden’s relief was so fierce it washed over me in a wave.
“Yeah. You okay?”
“Think so.” She paused briefly then grunted. Getting up, I suspected, even though I couldn’t yet see her. “I was standing back in the trees, so only copped the backwash. It was still strong enough to throw me back into a tree though, and knock me unconscious.”
“What about our two Ashworths?”
A longer pause this time. “In the clearing, unmovin
g but whole.”
“Dead?”
“Can’t tell.” She paused. “I can’t smell death, though, so that’s a good sign.”
Up ahead, low-hanging tree branches moved, and then Tala appeared, one hand raised against the brightness of the flashlight. Other than a torn left sleeve and a slight trickle of blood rolling down the right side of her face, she appeared to be okay.
Aiden immediately lowered the flashlight’s beam. “Head back to the truck and treat that wound. I’ll update you once we know what happened.”
She nodded and moved past us. Aiden’s gaze came to mine. “Is it safe to continue?”
I nodded. “I haven’t felt a secondary line of magic as yet.”
“Good.”
We pressed on until we got to the clearing’s edge. This time, there were two unmoving bodies rather than one, but at least neither was missing half their head and brain.
Ashworth was the closest. Though his clothes were singed and there was what looked like a scorch mark across his right cheek, he didn’t otherwise look hurt. He was also breathing, which meant he was simply knocked unconscious.
Chester had been thrown clear across the other side of the clearing, and was lying in a crumpled mess at the base of an old eucalyptus.
I studied the clearing for a few seconds longer. Though there were some spell remnants drifting lazily on the soft breeze, they weren’t even strong enough to make the protective magic on the knife react. Even so, I asked Aiden to remain where he was and carefully stepped into the clearing. The knife remained inert and the spell remnants didn’t react in any way.
I walked across to Ashworth and squatted down beside him. The blade flickered but it was only a faint pulse. I suspected it was reacting to the lingering echoes of the spell that lay on his skin and clothes rather than a secondary line of magic. I switched the knife from my right to my left hand and then carefully felt Ashworth’s pulse. It was strong and steady.
“Is he alive?” Aiden asked.
“Yeah. Just knocked out. Have you called the paramedics?”
“Yes—though I’m doubting Ashworth will actually appreciate it.”
