Witching Games: The Fire Witch Chronicles 1, R.A. Lindo [top 100 books of all time checklist .txt] 📗

With Conrad, Lucy and Noah appearing alongside me, I signal towards the black smoke filling the cell … the sight of the Domitus’ faces covered by a web, courtesy of the Weveris charm.

“They’re enjoying it,” I say as another roar rips through the sky. “Who needs to use a Niavak curse to tame an injured Silverback already in chains?”

“You don’t know that, Guppy,” Lucy says, her expression suggesting concern.

I can tell she thinks I’m going to do something stupid, but she’s wrong. My days of impulsive reaction are behind me — experience teaching me that it often leads to more problems than it solves. We’re here to study the art of taming: a dark art, in my opinion, making me wonder how much the Society elders know about the precise methods of taming used, and if they even care.

Some could argue that you have to fight fire with fire, meaning the use of curses to mute a dangerous creature’s venom is acceptable, but where does that trend lead…? I know exactly where: down paths we don’t need to go again.

“Take it easy, Guppy,” Conrad states as he moves alongside me on his turquoise Williynx. “Let’s find a place to rest in the mountains, making it clear we’re not leaving anytime soon. Then we descend when the performance is over, giving us a chance to work out what’s really going on.”

“It’s not as if The Orium Circle doesn’t know what’s going on here,” Noah adds as we manoeuvre our feathered companions to the mountain face, looking for a platform to witness a strange sorcery from.

“You’d think,” Lucy replies.

“Unless they’re authorising torture, that is,” I counter, “which is what this is.”

“Let’s just wait this out to find out more,” Conrad suggests, climbing off his Williynx once we reach a platform to rest on. “Look, the smoke’s dying away now they realise we’re watching them. I guarantee Olin and Neve are down there somewhere, hiding in whatever secret spaces the mountains offer.”

“What are you thinking, Conrad?” Noah prompts.

“That they planned this whole thing to get us out here.”

“What for?”

Conrad doesn’t reply but no reply is needed, and as I sit alongside him I ready myself for the conflict awaiting us below.

“It’s a performance,” I say to break the silence, our Quivvens glowing in the darkness. “A performance to make us react, drawing us into a situation that can be turned against us.”

“Looks like someone down there’s got a grudge,” Lucy adds.

“Exactly,” Conrad replies, swinging his legs over the mountain edge, “so let’s give them something to think about.”

With that, he stands and whispers ‘Weveris’, releasing a vast, black web that he directs towards the Silverback who staggers under the cursed smoke, shrieking in pain. He’s skilled enough to camouflage the web, masking it in the evening light until it falls over the Silverback.

As the injured creature’s roars intensify, Conrad turns to us, already in position astride our Williynx, nodding for the final descent to begin, towards our meeting with a strange breed of soldier drawn to cruelty and domination.

15

Taming Fury

The figure who meets us on the ground is less than welcoming, maintaining a degree of civility expected of all Society members. Dressed in grey trousers and a loose-fitting shirt worn by all Domitus, the bearded figure waits for us to dismount from our Williynx before speaking.

“You have no authority to interfere with our procedures.”

I study the small group with him, recognising none of them. There are more Domitus guarding the cages built into the mountain walls — the imprisoned Silverbacks eyeing their captors with restrained fury. The whole place has a strange energy as if containing such a creature goes against logic, but logic changes with circumstances and The Society knows only too well the danger of ignoring dark forces.

“We have the authority to go wherever we please,” Conrad replies, his tanzanite Quivven glowing in his neck.

“Which doesn’t include interference,” the bearded figure repeats, not particularly tall but striking in build, muscles bursting through his loose, grey shirt.

I doubt they’ll do him much good in a firefight with witches and wizards of equal skill, but we’re trying to avoid that so I step in, offering the bearded stranger a forced smile.

“We met two of your crew last night in The Shallows: Poridian Parlour to be exact.”

“And?”

“And we thought they were up to something … being all weird … sitting in silence and staring us out.”

“Silence is valued here, Miss Grayling.”

Here goes the Miss again: a reminder of the contempt some Society elders have for us.

“As well as torture?” I reply, offering the bearded muscle man another smile.

His expression doesn’t change. Instead, he turns to whisper to the two men on either side of him. I glance at Noah and Lucy who seem agitated by something, gesturing for me to look back. The clatter of the cage behind me suggests we’ve interrupted the taming process ... one that isn’t going to be put on hold due to our arrival.

It’s another sign of intimidation from the Domitus. With our Williynx hovering in mid-air — secret weapons should we need them — I respond as I always do in such circumstances, rising to the challenge.

“Let’s see it then,” I demand, holding the muscle-man’s gaze.

This gets a loud laugh from the crew until I whip out a Promesiun charm to release the Riadek: my first impulsive move for a while. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words, and this action wipes the smile off their faces pretty quickly.

Noah and Lucy aren’t smiling either, but I catch Conrad’s expression in my peripheral vision: the boy who’s aligned to me in principle and spirit. The Spintz charms remain active above us, following our movements as another roar rings through the mountains.

“Hold!” the bearded figure shouts to his crew, including the Domitus guarding the open cell, and they do just that, using their penchants to light up the mountain walls, preparing a retreat if necessary.

They probably don’t know I’ve faced Riadek before — loads of