《Witch versus Necromancer》


 Ghosts on the Moor

    "C''mon, Shane." Shane''s friend Ash beckoned and led him across the farmyard.


    It was dusk. The sky was indigo, tinged with red. Their shadows were long as they ran across the farmyard.


    It came as no surprise to Shane that Ash was leading him to the stables.


    "Thunder!" She called to one of the horses and made a funny crooning noise as Thunder leaned over the wooden stable door and nuzzled her shoulder. Shane was a little nervous of the horses, but he''d brought a sugar lump for her to give to Thunder. As a milkmaid, Ash couldn''t afford sugar of her own.


    "Here."


    She grinned as she accepted it, her blue eyes sparkling. "Aw, thanks. You''re so kind."


    Shane watched dispassionately as Ash kissed the horse''s muzzle and cooed at him. "Some days I just wanna saddle you an'' ride away. Yes I do. Why can''t I look after the horses?"


    "You''d ride away and leave me?" said Shane, suppressing a smirk.


    She pulled a face, scrunching her freckled nose. "Noo. I''d take you. But your dad needs you on the farm."


    "No, he doesn''t. In fact, Cedric''s the one who''s going to take over the farm. It''s because I''m not good at anything, or so I''m told."


    Ash gave a start and bared her teeth. "What? Who said that?"


    "Cedric said that."


    Ash shrugged. "Then he''s an idiot. You''re good at stuff. You''re the best friend I ever had."


    Shane was sometimes uncomfortable with praise, and shifted on his feet.


    Ash gripped his wrist in her small hand. "C''mon. Let''s go for a run on the moor. Bet ya can''t catch me."


    The friends ran across the undulating terrain of Barrowmoor, named so after all the ancient tumuli that dotted the landscape. The moon climbed steadily in the sky as night lay claim to the land. The moon began to rise.


    Shane grabbed Ash around the waist. "Gotcha!"


    She giggled and struggled free. As they ran, a crossroads came into view, as did the gibbet tht stood before it at the top of a steep escarpment on the moors. The wind was picking up now as it blew in across the black gulf of the Diamond Sea to the east. It batted at the mouldering body hanging from the end of the hangman''s noose. Shane shuddered he didn''t want to think about it. Standing close by the gibbet, her shawl pulled tight around her shoulders against the wind, her ragged dress billowing in the sea breeze, there stood a tall woman. She was making a low moaning sound. Shane wondered uncomfortably if she had known the gibbet-body in life. Her hair was long and red, like Ash''s. It seemed to glow in the dark. Wait¡­ Could Shane see a flickering aura around her body?


    Ash started forwards. "Are you alright, Ma''am?"


    Without turning round, the woman suddenly addressed them. "I used to laugh at the gibbet. ''E said the Road Wardens would never catch ''im, but they did. Hanged him too, for what ''e did, but ''e''s not laughing now, is ''e?"


    Ash blinked. "Sorry?"


    The woman burst into hysterical, cackling laughter and then spun round to face them. Shane felt a chill to his stomach and Ash gave a little cry. The woman was the livid grey-green hue of decay and half of her face was eaten away. It was then that Shane noticed lengths of seaweed knotted in her hair.


    "But I couldn''t go on without ''im, could I?" The hideous apparition drifted towards them over the heather, wet sand dripping from her clothes, crabs crawling from the fleshless spaces between her ribs and saltwater dribbling from between her fish-eaten lips with every sentence she spoke. "Drowned myself, so that we''d both go over into the next world together, so that we''d never part," she giggled. "Well I got my wish. We''ve never been apart since." She pointed at the skeleton swinging from the gibbet. Giving voice to a blood-curdling hysterical scream, she launched herself at them broken fingernails outstretched.


    Shane found himself rooted to the spot, his heart hammering in his chest.


    "Shane, c''mon!" Ash tugged at his arm, then picked up a stick and swiped at the spectre as she lunged. It simply passed through her as though she was a shadow.


    The wind began to blow hard. With a bubbling cry like she was screaming through a throat full of seawater, the ghost streaked towards them through the tempestuous air. "You''re not laughing at me, are you?" the insane phantom demanded. "I laughed at the gibbet. Look where it got me!"


    "Get away!" screamed Ash, stepping in front of Shane as the ghost slashed at them with claw like nails filled with dark sand.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    At that moment, the clouds parted and moonlight shone down illuminating them in a silvery glow. A scrawny woman swathed in a grey robe now stood nearby. She was another lurid vision on this weird night. A shock of wild, white hair streamed around her head, and her skin was bright yellowish-green! Shane had heard of the witch of Wraith Wood. Was this her?


    "Go, now!" cried the green skinned crone in a warbling voice.


    The ghost turned away from Shane and Ash and lunged at the witch. "You''re laughing at me, aintcha?" she screamed.


    "I warned you," said the witch. She made a complicated gesture with her green fingers in the air and began to chant in a faintly eerie, discordant way. The wind blew more fiercely, blasting Shane in the face, but it seemed the ghost could feel it too now. It was tugging at her kelp streaked hair and insubstantial form, until with a sigh, she dissolved into mist. The wind died down.


    "Oh, thank you, thank you!" said Ash, running up to the old witch to hug her.


    "Ash!" cautioned Shane. He wanted to tell her the ugly green woman was not to be trusted, but how to put that without invoking a witch''s wrath?


    The witch stood there impassively as Ash put her arms around her. "Yer shouldn''t be out ''ere, love," she said. "There''re ghosts on these moors. Be off with yer. Both of yer. Go. Now."


    Recovering his composure, Shane took Ash by the hand and pulled her away.


    "Did you see?" Gabbled Ash as they made their way back across the moors. "She jus'' blew that ghost away." Her eyes were shining.


    "Great, Ash," said Shane. "You better be careful around witches. It''s not right ¨C It doesn''t seem right that anyone should have that much power."


    "Aw. I''d look after you if she scares you," said Ash squeezing his hand.


    "Oh right, you''re a match for a witch," said Shane. "You''re a real spitfire."


    Ash giggled and flicked a strand of her fiery hair away from a face. "Don''t cha know it?"


    On the edge of the farm, they came to a crumbling, ramshackle cottage with a sagging thatched roof. This was where Ash lived with her mother. The walls of the cottage were made of interlocking slabs of rock, round with age. Ash heaved the wooden door open and they stepped inside.


    "Ma?" Ash lit one of the smoky home made candles on the little table and it cast a flickering light onto the cottage''s one room. Her mother, Elm was resting by the fireplace. The fire was out, but the embers still glimmered red.


    Elm''s eyelid''s flickered. "Smuttie, where''ve you been?"


    Smuttie¡­ Shane thought it a weird nickname for her to give her daughter.


    Elm opened her eyes and saw them both. "Good evening, darlins," she said, "so nice of you to drop in, Shane."


    "Oh, oh, Ma," chattered Ash, "we saw this lady on the moor, only she wasn''t really a lady, cos she was a ghost, and she went ''ahhhh''" Ash tried to mimic the ghost''s wailing, but did so quite poorly. "An'' I was going to bash her up if she threatened Shane¡­"


    "Ye gods, sounds like you''ve had some wild times," said Elm with a small smile.


    "Ma''am¡­" said Shane. "There is something wrong. Evil is afoot on the moors. We saw the witch-"


    Elm sat up. "Mistress Toadfoot? From Wraith Wood?"


    "You know her?" Ash grinned, showing off the gap between her front teeth. Her cheeks were flushed pink with excitement. "She''s astonishin'', she did this thing where she made the wind blow an'' an''..."


    Shane butted in. "Ghosts. Witchcraft. Both are at work," he said gravely. "We saw a ghost, sure as I''m standing here."


    Elm turned a little pale and her eyes widened. "Darlings! If ghosts walk Granat now, I don''t want either of you runnin'' around the moors at night. You think of your ma, Shane. How''d she feel?"


    "Well, um¡­ I don''t know," said Shane. "She''d probably scold me."


    "Huh? What d''you mean you dunno?" asked Ash, gazing at him with wide blue eyes. "She''d be worried about losing you, obviously. I would be."


    "If there''re ghosts, summat''s wrong," said Elm. "But there''s been summat wrong since Lady Isolde left Wintershold and left things with Unthank."


    Lady Isolde Ladogan had gone crusading against Death Cultists and left her castle and fiefdom in the care of Chamberlain Unthank. Elm certainly showed great faith in Isolde, attributing everything that went wrong to her departure.


    "I''d better be going," said Shane with a sigh.


    "No, don''t go," said Ash, grabbing his arm with both her freckly little hands. "It''s still dangerous, if that there ghost''s about. Stay."


    The broth Elm had heated over the fire was still warm. When they had eaten, Ash leaned against him on the straw stuffed sofa and he fell asleep with one of his arms in her grasp.


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    00O00


    The next day, Ash milked the cows and then did a job she really liked ¨C bottle feeding the baby animals. First a lamb, then a piglet. That evening she hurried over the meadows and fields to tell Shane about it. The shadows were lengthening as she ran, her feet skimming over the ground.


    Shane had finished helping with the harvest and was snacking on bread and water.


    "Shane! Shane!" called Ash, running up to him. "I got to feed a piglet, an'' when I cuddled it, it wriggled," she giggled. "I wanna baby piglet."


    He patted her arm. "I''m sure you do," he said with a small smile, his hazel eyes sparkling. His cheeks were flushed with the exercise of the day.


    He''d been sweating she could tell, but the smell of his sweat was exciting rather than offensive. His curly hair was all messed up. She reached up and ran her fingers through it and grinned at him.


    "Here, I have something for you," he said, taking a little carved wooden horse out of his pocket.


    Ash squealed in delight as she took it. "For me! Oh, thank you, thank you!" She hugged him then held the horse up in both hands. If only she had the money or talent to buy or carve a present like this for Shane. "I''ll call him¡­ Horace," she decided.


    Shane waved at someone across the field behind Ash. "Chad! Me ''ansum!" said Shane, slipping into the Wintershold dialect.


    Ash felt her heart leap and whirled round. Chad! The stunning new farm hand visiting from the New World. He was so amazing, strong tanned legs, his whole body fit and athletic, hair gold like the corn they harvested, and that wonderful accent that made Ash crazy¡­


    "Shane, bro!"


    The way he talked¡­!


    Shane and Chad slapped their hands together in some form of greeting that was probably normal in the New World.


    "Ash," Chad gave her a nod. "How''s it going?"


    Ash squeaked and felt her face grow hot. Why couldn''t she string two words together when Chad was around? She gazed at him, at his freckled nose and cheeks, his dark blue eyes and the strong line of his jaw¡­


    At that moment a gruff, coarse voice yelled out: "Oi! Yokels! Dunderheads!"


    The three of them turned to see two unkempt burly men, clad in what appeared to be rusting chain mail with skull emblems, carrying short stabbing spears. The one who had shouted spoke. "Chamberlain Unthank sent us to deal wiv yer¡­"

 How Isolde was Murdered

    "Orders of Chamberlain Unthank," said one of the men in rusted chainmail in a gruff voice. "We''re Doom Troopers. We''re here to take your harvest."


    Shane felt his indignation flare. That would leave them with nothing for the winter. "You will do no such thing!"


    "Yeah, not cool," drawled Chad.


    "Shuttit you," said the other Doom Trooper, waving the short spear at him threateningly. "I''ll stick yer with this frog sticker."


    "So will I," growled the other Trooper, pointing his spear at Shane''s throat.


    Ash''s pale eyebrows drew together as she glared at the Doom Troopers. She picked up a scythe. "Noggerhead! ''Ee dare threaten my boy?" She was breathing through her nose and her cheeks were flushing. Her dialect was always stronger when she was angry. Normally she tried to enunciate like Shane did.


    "What''re yer going to do with that, carrot top?" jeered the Trooper.


    Ash pointed near his head, her mouth forming a perfect ''O'' shape. "Oh! A glumbumble."


    "Argh! Those bugs really sting," said the Trooper, giving a start and bumping into his fellow, causing him to drop his spear.


    While he was distracted, Ash knocked his spear from his grasp with her scythe. "Can'' believe you fell for it," she said scornfully. "Now get out, both of ''ee. Go on."


    "It''s ''umiliating," said the first Trooper. "Threatened by a girl."


    "Noo. Bein'' hurt by a girl would be humiliating," said Ash. "Go."


    The Doom Trooper spat on the ground. "Unthank will send the Dread Knights after you fer this."


    The Troopers left, but that last part made Shane uneasy.


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    00O00


    There was a meeting of the farm hands in the cowshed soon after as the sun set.


    "Ash has brought the wrath of Unthank down on us," said Cedric. "It''ll be his order of Dread Knights next time, for sure."


    "Leave her alone," said Shane, frowning at him. Ash''s eyes were downcast and she was uncharacteristically silent. Elm was looking pale and troubled.


    "Yeahh, what Shane said," drawled Chad.


    As the meeting ended, Ash ran out, her hands covering her face. Shane pulled on Chad''s arm. "C''mon." They went out to find Ash. She was by the stables, petting Thunder''s nose.


    "Ash!" called Shane, running up to her as Shane followed more slowly.


    Ash turned and smiled at them, but Shane could see in the moonlight that tears shone in her blue eyes.


    "Don''t fret it, Ash," said Shane, patting her arm. "It wasn''t your fault."


    "I''m the Princess of Disaster," said Ash, her bottom lip trembling


    "Princess?" said Shane. "Are you a milkmaid Princess?"


    "Then I''m like a witch, bringin'' a curse," said Ash, pulling a face and sticking out her pink tongue.


    Suddenly, Shane glimpsed a pale light out of the corner of his eye and turned to see the shadowy outline of a tall woman advancing towards them. With a queasy sensation, remembered how he and Ash had seen a ghost on the moor the previous night.


    "Ash!" He blurted, giving a start.


    "What? What?" said Ash whirling round, her blue eyes wide with alarm. "Oh¡­" she gave a little gasp. She stood in front of Shane and curtseyed. "Dear Lady."


    "Dudette, what d''ya mean?" said Chad.


    "Lady Isolde!" said Ash, turning around and glaring.


    Shane peered at the ghost. A lady with long, platinum blond hair, her mouth set in stern lines and her violet blue eyes shrewd and piercing. She was clad in leather armour with breast and shoulder plates and wielded an ethereal sword that gleamed with a pale light.


    Ash took Shane and Chad by the hand and they followed her example in kneeling down before the ghost as she stared down at them.


    "Rise, my children," she said motioning with her arm. They stood up.


    "Woahh. Intense," muttered Chad.


    Shane felt a cold sense of dread. What on Granat could this mean?


    Ash gazed at the ghost, her face pale and her freckles really showing. "M ¨C Milady, what ¡­ how did this happen? W-Was it on the crusade?"


    "No, my girl," said Isolde, her voice clear and penetrating. "I survived the crusade against the forces of Death, only to be cut down when in sight of Winterhold. A band of ruffians accosted me on the moors and an evildoer of higher calibre was with them. An acolyte of Death. This acolyte struck me down with dark magic and my corpse now grows cold on the moors. Great evil is afoot in Winterhold."


    Ash was staring at her with wide eyes, but then she smiled. "We know someone who can help," she said, "Shane an'' I know a witch. She has these ''mazin'' powers."Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Uh Oh¡­ Shane did not like this at all. Did Ash really suppose bringing that green skinned hag into their problems would solve anything?


    "Hum. A witch''s hovel does indeed lie at the heart or Wraith Wood," said Isolde. "All things considered, if anyone can help, a practitioner of dark magic can."


    "We know ''er," said Ash excitedly. "Shane an'' I do!"


    "I know her too," said Chad. He touched his golden hair. "She gave me blond hair in a bottle. It''ll catch on back west. She gave it to me for free, but I bet I could sell it."


    So, Chad had visited that witch before?


    "Psh! As if you needed a beauty tonic, boy," said Isolde. "But I would be grateful if you could speak on my behalf. Perhaps this witch is eager to oblige beautiful members of the opposite gender."


    "Per''aps she is," said Ash, her cheeks flushing a fox-glove hue.


    On the moor, the Moon rose overhead, shining brighter than it had the previous night. Shane could never remember it being like this. It seemed to glare directly at him, like it was a lidless eye. He shuddered and Ash slipped her little hand in his.


    Isolde tried to get them to join in a Warrior Marching song, but there efforts were so lacklustre she soon gave up. Before long, they were enveloped within the bounds of Wraith Wood. The trees grew thick and dark around them, although Shane was still aware of the glowing orb of the Moon between the leafless branches above them. The branches looked like the clawing talons of skeletal hands.


    "So, um¡­ Lady," said Shane timidly. "You have known there is a witch in Wraith Wood for how long?"


    Isolde looked at him sharply. "Hitherto, I have had no truck with witches. But she has not harmed anyone to my knowledge. Live and let live, I say."


    "I agree," said Ash, nodding so that her red hair rippled and bounced.


    And then, between the tangle of trees, the witch''s cottage came into view. Shane could see the light of a roaring fire flickering behind the grimy windows of the tumbledown hovel, but there was also a dead magpie nailed to the door.


    "Oh, gods. Don''t think I can," said Shane, feeling unsteady at the knees.


    "I''m here," Ash reminded him, squeezing his hand.


    "Stay behind me," murmured Isolde, going on ahead, her boots seeming to skim over the dead leaves. She gave off a faint glow in the darkness.


    The cottage door was suddenly flung open by the scrawny old witch Shane and Ash had seen the previous night. She really was ugly, her hooked chin that jutted out.


    "Who''s that?" she demanded in her reedy old voice. Then she gasped at the sight of Isolde. "Yer one of them, aintcha? Your master''s sent you to do away with me at last, has he? We''ll see about that."


    "Hey, hey, chill," urged Chad, hurrying forward. "This dame isn''t gonna hurt anyone. She''s come for help."


    "That is correct," said Isolde solemnly.


    The witch''s green face split into an uneven grin as she saw Chad, her long nose crinkling. "Dearie¡­ What kind of company have yer brought me tonight, eh?"


    She actually pinched his cheek.


    "Don''t embarrass the boy," said Isolde sternly, although Shane thought that Chad only reacted with his usual calm nonchalance, "I am the lady of Winterfell, and I have come seeking your aid."


    The witch looked at Isolde with a grimace on her face. "You''d best come inside," she said, beckoning with a long, green finger. The four of them filed over the threshold. The scene inside the cottage was exactly as Shane might have imagined it. A cauldron bubbled over the fire in the hearth, while sprigs of herbs hung drying over rafters. On a table there was a book bound in black leather, while lying on a rag rug in front of the fire was a chubby piglet. Ash was glancing around, her blue eyes wide.


    "Mistress Toadfoot at yer service, M''Lady," said the witch, "though I ''spect you already knew that."


    Isolde inclined her head. "I did indeed." Then she hurriedly related her story to the witch.


    Mistress Toadfoot scratched her long green nose. "There''s certainly something afoot," she said. "There''ve been signs ''n portents. Bad dreams, they''re always a good sign, and people ''ave been having a lot lately. A right plague of nightmares. There''s disturbance in the spirit world and that means restless ghosts. Summat''s coming. Summat really, really bad."


    "Woahh¡­" said Chad, letting out a low whistle.


    Isolde''s slightly transparent face showed worry. Her brows drew together and her eyes were anxious. "Mistress, can you been of help in any way?"


    "I could summon my familiar spirit to ask fer help," she said slowly, scratching her green chin.


    "Let it be done, I implore you," said Isolde.


    "Yeah, I like, second that," said Chad in his roundabout way.


    "For you, my pretty," said Mistress Toadfoot, winking at Chad. She sat down on one side of the table. "You have to sit across the table," she told Chad, drumming her long fingernails on the wooden surface.


    "Seriously? Weird," mumbled Chad, sitting himself opposite the witch.


    Shane was aware of Ash shifting on her feet. He took a sidelong glance at her and noticed she was grimacing.


    "He is clearly no mage," began Isolde.


    "Nothing to do with magic. I haven''t sat across the table from anyone really gorgeous in a long time," said the witch, leering. "Now pipe down, Isolde. Conjuring is my purview."


    "It''s alright," said Chad, unconcerned.


    Shane thought he would have felt really uncomfortable himself if the witch leered at him like that. Maybe someone as good looking as Chad was used to this kind of thing though, who knew?


    The witch''s eyes rolled up as she called to her familiar spirit. "Pyewacket, come to mother."


    The temperature in the hovel dropped and frost formed on the windows. Shane and Ash instinctively drew together. As they watched aghast, something manifested in the air above the table. It had the body of a monkey, but covered in the iridescent blue and green plumage of a parrot. It had the backward jointed legs of a cockerel and the face of a demon. It hovered in the air, sneering.


    "Pyewacket, answer me this," commanded the witch, "who is responsible for the murder of Isolde."


    The familiar spirit began to mewl and writhe as if in pain.


    "Will you not answer me?" said Mistress Toadfoot.


    "Another would prevent me," grunted the demon. "Beware¡­ the Lord of Shadows comes¡­"


    The familiar disappeared and the temperature in the hovel began to warm again.


    "Hmmm. This is even worse than I thought," said Mistress Toadfoot.


    "Who is the Lord of Shadows?" asked Isolde.


    "A terrible warlord from long ago and a champion of the powers of darkness," said the witch. "He may rise again as one of the great undead. If some villain were to seek to bring him back¡­ If the Lord of Shadows is coming, it would explain all the disturbance in the spirit world. Nothing is as it should be." The witch sighed. "My dears, I can''t help yer." She shook her head.


    "You cannot?" said Isolde, disappointed, gazing at the witch with sorrowful eyes.


    "Don'' bother givin'' me that look, my girl," said Mistress Toadfoot.


    Ash opened her mouth to speak, but Shane leaned forward across the table and put his hand on the witch''s.


    "It would be like, gnarly if you could help," he said.


    Gnarly? Half the time, Shane couldn''t make out what Chad was talking about.


    "Oh, I can''t refuse yer," said the witch, touching his cheek with her other hand.


    Shane suppressed a grimace. He knew he wouldn''t put up with the witch touching his face like that.


    "There is a way," said Mistress Toadfoot. "I can''t ''elp. My ''ands are tied an'' I''m too old to fight. But another witch could."


    "Other witch? There are others in the vicinity?" asked Isolde.


    "No, no, Lady, listen," said Mistress Toadfoot shook her head. "Shekka''s moon is overhead tonight. This is the night when the most gifted of the young ''uns could be reborn. The girl," she nodded her head at Ash who put both her hands to her chest, blinking.


    The witch went on: "The Dark Goddess can transform a girl who''s willin''."


    "I could not allow that," began Isolde.


    "You don'' have a say in it," said Mistress Toadfoot sharply. "The girl has to decide."

 Terrors and Transformations

    Ash felt the sensation of butterflies in her stomach.  ¡°Me?  I could be a witch?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s up to Shekka, dearie,¡± said Mistress Toadfoot.  ¡°But she¡¯d accept yer, I¡¯m certain.¡±


    ¡°Ash,¡± began Shane.  He was frowning in that way that made his brows draw together.  That meant he was troubled.  He had had a very strange night.  She patted his arm.


    ¡°I¡¯d ¡®ave to find and stop whoever wants to bring this Lord of Shadows back?¡±


    ¡°The villain called ¡®imself ¡®Shadow King,¡¯ dearie,¡± said Mistress Toadfoot. ¡°An yersse¡­ Witches can do what yer least expect.  Not everyone likes that mind.  Not every lord and lady of a region is kind like Isolde.¡±


    ¡°What you say is true,¡± said the ghost of Isolde, her clear voice seeming to echo, ¡°and the ritual of Shekka is by all accounts life changing and irreversible.  I would not want my sister to be transformed, even if she were so inclined.¡°


    ¡°That¡¯s nice,¡± said the witch.  ¡°But a witch can defend strapping boys against ghosts, and necromancers.  You¡¯ve seen old me stop a mad ghost.  A girl with no magic can do nothing.  A witch can do things above her class and get what she wants.¡± She looked from Ash to Chad to Shane.


    Ash could feel her palms sweating.  She glanced around at the all, her gaze lingering on Chad¡¯s face.  ¡°I ¨C I can do this,¡± she said.


    ¡°Gnarly,¡± said Chad.


    Shane still look troubled and he opened his mouth to speak, but Ash gently touched his arm.  ¡°I gotta,¡± she said.


    The witch beckoned at them to follow her into the woods.  They all filed out and followed the strange green woman as she led them deep into the dense tangle of trees with this clawing branches. They emerged into a clearing where the moonlight was strangely bright. Much brighter than it should be. Shining bright as day.


    Ash peered at the clearing.  ¡°What¡¯s that shape?¡±


    ¡°A symbol, dearie,¡± said Mistress Toadfoot.  ¡°Now stand in the middle.


    Ash stood in the middle of the clearing. She felt a strange tingling sensation.


    The others all hung back by the trees.


    ¡°Take care,¡± said Isolde, her voice echoing in the cold air.


    ¡°We have to leave the rest to Shekka,¡± said Mistress Toadfoot. "Look at the moon, my pretty."


    Ash looked up at the moon. It was so strange. The moonlight was blinding¡­ She felt bathed in its ethereal radiance.


    She could hear the witch¡¯s voice: "Repeat after me: I dedicate myself to Shekka, Dark Moon Goddess. I let her power flow through me so that I will be transformed. In her embrace, I am reborn as her creature."


    Ash repeated these words shouting them out loud at the moon.


    Suddenly she found herself paralysed. She couldn''t move or speak. She felt herself rise into the air and spin around, unable to see anything but the light otherworldly light.  Her heart hammered in her chest.  And then she felt a burning sensation spread through her¡­! Her bones were on fire and her flesh was bubbling. A burning smell filled her nostrils¡­


    The overpowering light turned lurid green. She was spinning round and round, caught in a maelstrom of lurid light and agonising sensations. Swirling round and round and round¡­


    Then she was released and she collapsed onto the floor of the clearing, gasping and sobbing. She looked at her hands. They were bright green. She pulled up her sleeves. Her arms were green. She rolled up her ragged frock. So were her legs. It was hard to see, but out of the corner of her eye, it looked like the tip of her nose was green too.


    ¡°¡¯Tis done.  Shekka accepted yer.  Yer one of us.¡±  That was Mistress Toadfoot sounding relieved.


    Ash scrambled to her feet and ran into Shane¡¯s waiting arms.  He looked at her face with strangely wide eyes.  Chad patted her on the back and she put her arms around him as well, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she did.


    ¡°It is done then, for better or worse,¡± said Isolde.


    Ash felt something wriggle in her pocket and she reached in and pulled it out.  It was Horace, the wooden horse Shane had given her!  But now it was bright green like her hand, and struggled in her grasp.  She and Shane gazed at it in dull blue wonder.


    ¡°My li¡¯l Horace.  You¡¯re alive,¡± said Ash. ¡°It¡¯s OK, Mummy¡¯s here.¡± She touched his shiny green muzzle.


    On the way back to the witch¡¯s cottage, Ash noticed that the boughs and brambles seemed to part for her, so that she could easily make her way through the woods faster than any of them except for Isolde.


    Back in the cottage, the witch handed Ash the leatherbound book.  The pages were covered with strange symbols and peering at them, Ash had the sense they were whispering to her, like she could somehow, magically understand them.  There were no mirrors in the cottage.  Ash wondered uneasily what she looked like with green skin.  Still, there was no point in worrying about it.


    Mistress Toadfoot snapped her fingers.  ¡°Yer should ¡®ave another familiar, girl,¡± she said.  ¡°Not just that funny little ¡®orse thing.¡±


    A bat fluttered down from the rafters and perched on  Ash¡¯s arm.  She grinned at it¡¯s funny little face as it crawled up her arm and onto her shoulder.  Then the older witch thrust the heavy book at her.  ¡°There.  Take this an¡¯ go to the Keep.  Yer¡¯ll find answers there.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± said Ash, ¡°this ain¡¯t safe fer Shane ¡®n Chad.¡±


    Mistress Toadfoot tsked tsked.  ¡°An¡¯ who exactly can protect ¡®em better than you?  An¡¯ the ghost lady?¡± She pointed emaciated green fingers and Ash and Isolde in turn.


    ¡°That is correct,¡± said Isolde.  ¡°I cut down those brigands who waylaid me on the more.  They could not lay a hand on my spectral form, but this ethereal copy of my sword, Nightslayer,¡± she held up her blade that gleamed with an icy white sheen, ¡°it cut them down quickly enough.  Any miscreant who would dare take arms against any of you will be sorry.¡±


    ¡°I s¡¯pose you¡¯re right,¡± said Ash mulling this over in her mind.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Gnarly,¡± said Chad.


    Shane looked uneasy, so Ash squeezed his hand.  ¡°I¡¯ll look after you,¡± she murmured.


    <hr>


    00O00


    In order to get to the Wintershold, the four of them had to cross an old graveyard.  It had clearly been neglected for some time.  Headstones lie tumbled amidst briars and thick tussocks of grass while a number of freestanding tombs looked like they had been broken into ¨C or perhaps the bodies inside them had broken out.


    Ash, Shane and Chad drew together instinctively as Isolde led the way, her ethereal form giving of a faint glow in the dark.


    ¡°Something is amiss here,¡± said Isolde.


    ¡°No, really?¡± mumbled Shane.


    They were half-way across the cemetery, when a ghost appeared, rising from the turfed mound of a grave.  This ghost was a young woman, her face emaciated.  ¡°Help us, stranger,¡± she pleaded.


    Another figure stepped out of a crumbling mausoleum.  This time it was the spectre of a severe looking old man, dressed in the clothes of a notary.  ¡°Yes, help us,¡± he begged, ¡°for we are slaves to a fiend that will not let us depart this world.¡±


    ¡°Free us,¡± said the ghost of a bearded woodsman who sat up through the turf of an unmarked grave.  ¡°We bin ¡®ere too long.¡±


    ¡°Of course I shall help,¡± said Isolde.


    ¡°Oh thank you, lady, thank you,¡± said the ghost of the young woman, almost weeping in relief.


    Shane groaned.  ¡°What¡¯s she getting us into?¡±


    ¡°Tell me,¡± commanded Isolde, ¡°what is this fiend that has you in its thrall.¡±


    ¡°The ghost of a great evil-doer that defiled this place,¡± said the notary, but at that point, a tremor passed through the graves at their feet.


    ¡°It comes,¡± said the young woman, a terrified look in her eyes.


    Suddenly the ghosts of the graveyard all vanished as though they were sucked back into the ground.  And then the tremor came again as the ground in which the dead lay rose up before them as a colossal mound of mouldering earth, studded with splintered coffin lids and the remains of those buried within.


    The mound of grave dirt shuddered once more and took a lumbering step towards them as arms and legs took shape from within the crumbling conglomeration that stood before them.  The looking, roughly humanoid figure exuded a palpable aura of death as it stalked towards them with bron-crunching steps, lumpen arms outstretched, while ghost voices cry from somewhere within it while the faint ghost voices cried from somewhere within it: ¡°Help us!  Save us!¡±


    ¡°I have come to put an end to you, fiend,¡± said Isolde, just exuding confidence.  The other three were not so sure of themselves.  Shane looked white as a sheet, his eyes round in terror.  Even Chad was trembling.  Ash felt an icy sensation of terror in her stomach, but she had to defend her dear Shane and the gorgeous Chad.


    As Isolde lunged at the monster with her ghostly sword, screaming a battle cry, Ash leafed through the book of spells, willing herself to find some magic of use.  She got a dizzy sensation as she peered at the page and started screaming strange sounding syllables.  The bat on her shoulder which she had taken as a familiar began to glow brightly, its eyes shining silver and it flew up into the air. Ash felt suddenly disorientated, as though she were seeing through the bat¡¯s eyes as well as her own.  As though her familiar had become in some way an extension of her mind and magic power.


    Isolde stabbed at the grave-monster.  ¡°Die, abomination,¡± she cried.


    ¡°Noo¡­ I¡¯ll eat youuuuu, spooook,¡± it replied, in a voice like rusty nails being scratched across an iron coffin.


    Ash poured all her effort of will into directing her magic against the fiend, but what happened was that the bat started fluttering around the misshapen mound of its head.


    ¡°What¡¯sss this?¡± grated the monster.  ¡°A tasssty little spoook?¡±


    It swiped at the bat, and its distraction was enough.  With a scream of fury, mIsolde brought her scintillating ethereal blade in a flashing arc through the air and pierced the monster¡¯s heart.  The necromantic spell animating it was broken.  The earthy body burst apart, showering them all with grave dirt, human remains and rotting coffin wood.


    ¡°Success!¡± said Isolde in triumph.


    ¡°Eurgh! Not cool,¡± said Chad, gingerly brushing the remains off his shoulders and dyed golden hair.


    Shane retched, and Ash put her arms around him to steady him as he vomited.


    The souls of those that had been bound by the grave golem now ascended into the night sky.  They called down their thanks and praises in their mixture of dialects.  Ash looked up as their shining lights ascended into the heavens and felt a warm glow.


    The ghost of the young woman gazed down at her, beaming.  ¡°Oh thank you, thank you.¡±


    ¡°You have done a great thing, this night, good maid,¡± said the notary, before he soared up above the clouds.


    ¡°Fine lookin¡¯ gel, if green in the cheeks,¡± burbled the woodsman as he too ascended.


    Shane was still trembling, so Ash kissed him on the cheek.  ¡°It¡¯s alrigh¡¯, I¡¯m ¡®ere,¡± she murmured, wondering how she could reassure him.


    ¡°Interesting though unconventional move, distracting the horror like that,¡± said Isolde, laying a ghostly hand as light as a cobweb on Ash¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°We¡¯ll make a warrior of you yet.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a witch, not a warrior,¡± said Ash, looking down at her green hands.


    ¡°You enchanted that bat into being a weapon?¡± said Isolde.  ¡°He looked no different from bats I might see in the chapel when it is time for the Vespers.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll call ¡®im Vesper,¡± said Ash, pleased with that idea.


    ¡°Yes, well, why don¡¯t you leaf through that book for an offensive spell,¡± said Isolde.  ¡°We will certainly need them.  We¡¯ll have many battles with supernatural foes soon enough.¡±


    ¡°Man, that sounds awful,¡± drawled Chad in his charming accent.  ¡°Are we actually gonna, like, survive the night?¡±


    ¡°Psh,¡± said Isolde.  ¡°I make it my business to take care of beautiful young men. They always know they can depend on me.¡± She lay a hand on Chad¡¯s arm.  ¡°And I prop up the weak, just so we¡¯re clear,¡± she added, touching Shane¡¯s arm as well.


    Ash cringed.  Was that her idea of being a comfort? Calling Shane weak and babbling about Chad¡¯s beauty? She flipped through the book, hoping it would fall open at a page with an offensive spell, like Isolde suggested.  She peered at the page.


    ¡°Um¡­ here¡¯s one for explodin¡¯ moon beams, or something,¡± she said doubtfully.  ¡°Works on pebbles.¡±  She picked up a pebble as the book instructed and murmured the strange syllables. The stone glowed silvery white and Ash squeaked in shock and dropped it onto the tortured earth, where it exploded with a little pop.  She felt a little light headed afterwards.  Presumably these spells cost energy.


    They left the graveyard. Night lay over the sleeping village like a bejewelled cape, the wind chasing black clouds across the sky, like a wolf after a shepherd¡¯s flock.  Ahead of them lay the stone built buildings and thatched cottages of the village.  There were few lights visible in the windows of the village, although there were plenty within the windows of the Castle of Wintershold.  Most of the villagers who predominantly worked on the land had retired for the night.


    Ash smiled as Horace the tiny green horse crawled up her arm and perched on her shoulder and Vesper the bat flitted around her head.


    ¡°Will your little green foal grow into a mighty stallion one day, I wonder?¡± said Isolde.  ¡°Let us hope he does and is a steed that makes you proud.  My steed bolted when I was killed tonight.¡± She sighed.  She sighed and Ash instinctively took her hand to comfort her.  Both of them were astonished when Ash actually gripped her hand! Isolde looked down, violet-blue eyes wide.  She touched Shane¡¯s arm and her ghostly hand phased through him like a shadow.


    ¡°Sorry about that, my boy, but I had to test,¡± she apologised.  ¡°Well¡­ It would appear a witch is a being of both worlds.¡±


    The tolling of the temple bell rang out through the cold night air, the sound muffled by the whipping wind.  And then the wailing of the wind became what sounded to Ash like a moaning voice.  The voice was joined by others, all wailing in torment, and they were getting closer.  A phosphorescent mist moved directly towards them as though it were sentient.  It moved over the fields that lay between them and the village.  It was no natural mist¡­ As she watched, Ash saw anguished faces, their eyes closed, surface from within, before sinking back into the cloud.


    ¡°Ghosts?¡± said Shane, his voice trembling.  ¡°More ghosts?¡±


    ¡°I think not,¡± said Isolde.  ¡°I have actually heard of this phenomenon.  A manifestation of collective nightmares.  The dance of the Phantasmagoria.¡±


    ¡°Them nightmares¡­ they¡¯re alive?¡± said Ash, feeling a queasy sense of anxiety again.


    ¡°Not cool,¡± said Chad.  ¡°That¡¯s like, no dream of mine.¡±


    Isolde laughed and cupped his face in her hands.   ¡°You shy away from combat?¡± she asked, though she was grinning.  ¡°You would not want to be my squire?¡±


    ¡°No Ma¡¯am,¡± said Chad, blinking at her.


    Isolde turned to face the oncoming nightmare, and held her spectral sword high.  ¡°Keep your distance,¡± she urged.  ¡°Boys, stand well back.  This predatory thing¡­ it will take you to the brink of insanity if it possibly can.¡±


    Ash frowned.  She was scaring Shane, talking like that.  He was already shaking.  The nightmare closed in on them, its misty tendrils groping hungrily for them¡­