The creature had led him to a small old cottage, which unlike Lenesa's and Kivirra's, was made of wood instead of stone. The building seemed less welcoming, with harsh pointy gables and thin, blank windows that alluded to a dark and dreary interior.

Beyond the front porch, the wisp that was not Shwei—he should have guessed by the color, Theiden thought—had approached a woman looking about the same age as Lenesa, wearing a long dark teal wrap that draped across her shoulders and around her waist. The hem of the woman's black skirt was embroidered with small red beads, and Darren couldn't help but think that the design made the outfit seem splattered in blood.

"My dear Goru," the woman was saying, fondly bringing up a hand to stroke the wisp before her, "what have you brought back for me?"

The wisp, Goru, gave a crackling warble in reply that sounded more like the wracking cough of a seasoned smoker. Theiden cringed at the sound, and at his slight movement, the woman immediately looked up and pinned him with her gaze.

She was a witch—of that he was certain. But right away, Theiden could tell that she was of a different sort. While the woman before him still shared the same midnight-silver hair, unnatural violet eyes, and the characteristic Alazomian height of the other two witches he had met in these mountains, that was where the similarities ended.

The most obvious difference was the dark, swirling ink pattern that rose from the witch's fingertips to her elbows—at first, Theiden had thought she was wearing gloves. A heartbeat passed, then two more. But these markings did not fade away like the ones he had seen on Lenesa's fingertips.

His eyes drew upwards to the witch's face. A milky film had spread over the woman's left eye, making it almost as white as the eyes he had seen on the Turned faun, save for a slight lilac hue in the center where the iris and pupil should be. Black tendrils had also crept up and across the woman's neck and face, stretching towards the ruined eye.

Theiden took a hesitant step back.

"Ah," the witch said flatly. "The faun warned me about you. It said you've come to kill us all, and ruin the beauty of these mountains with your hatred."

Theiden swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "I—"

"And of course you are," the witch continued with a snarl. "Your kind does nothing but spread pain and anguish." She raised a hand, red sparks forming at her fingertips. "At least now I can get rid of you, once and for all."

Theiden would have been dead if not for Lenesa's training. The spell came at him with such force and speed that the ground where he had been standing seconds earlier exploded in a shower of rocks and dirt, and the sound of the impact echoed after. He tumbled to the side, rolling on the ground until he was out of reach.

The witch snarled, obviously displeased with Theiden's escape, and raised her hand to try again. Theiden scrambled back to his feet and clutched the hunting dagger in his hands, certain that he would not emerge from this encounter unscathed.

This time something black and electric shot towards him, crackling as it sped through the air. Theiden threw himself out of the way again, trying to deflect the spell with his dagger as he did so. The blade snagged on the spell and stayed in his hand for a heartbeat more before it was ripped out of his grasp and flung several feet away.

He sucked in a breath and clenched his stinging hand. His whole arm shook with the force of the spell, and there was a slight metallic ringing in the air that echoed long after the blade had been knocked aside. The sound was disorienting, and Theiden shook his head and blinked, trying to regain focus.

The witch tilted her head, face slate-blank and eyes glimmering with unsatisfied rage.

"Do you think you can best me?" she asked him, voice sing-song and mocking. Theiden's gaze flickered to how she clenched her hands at her sides, one finger at a time. It reminded him of the way the harp player in the Patachal concert hall stretched her fingers before playing—only the witch's movements were harsher and stiffer. And she was certainly not about to play a harp.

Theiden drew in a shaky breath. "I think I can try," he said.

His reply prompted a scathing laugh from the witch. "Oh, what arrogance," she said, while her wisp buzzed behind her. "It's best to give up now and set aside any hope that you can escape your fate. Simply because that traitor taught you a few tricks."

The word hissed through the air, and Theiden felt an icy jolt course through his veins.

"Do you mean Lenesa?" he demanded, and when the witch's lips curled into a sneer, his worry only increased. "That scream earlier—was that her? Where is she?"

The witch shrugged a shoulder in a wild, careless motion. "I suppose that was her," she replied. "If she isn't dead already, she will be soon." Her gaze hardened. "As will you."

He barely saw the magic form this time before it shot at him. This time it caught his side, burning past his arm and leaving a searing pain behind. Theiden hissed at the pain and stumbled back, wide-eyed gaze on the witch and on the alert for her next attack. His breath was coming in short gasps now, and the pain had him unsteady on his feet. If he didn't escape from the witch soon, he might never do so.

The witch raised her hand again, and Theiden let out a desperate breath. He tensed, ready to jump out of the way at her next strike—

"Audeste!"

Lenesa's voice broke through the air, and Theiden never thought he would be so relieved to hear it, though he didn't dare avert his eyes from the woman in front of him. She, however, jerked back as though she had been scalded by fire, horrified at the sound.

"Lenesa," Audeste hissed. "You've betrayed us."

"Your faun fell off a cliff," Lenesa responded, voice flat. "Next time you want to kill me, do it yourself."

This prompted a furious snarl from Audeste, which Lenesa promptly ignored as she turned to Theiden. Her jaw tightened when she noticed his side.

"You're hurt."

Theiden glanced her way, then back to Audeste, wary of taking his eyes off the Turned witch for too long. "It's not that deep."

Lenesa's gaze softened for a moment. "Go back to the cottage," she told him. "Now."

"I don't know the way," Theiden protested, just as Lenesa flung out a hand in the direction of the trees behind her.

With a creaking of wood and shuddering of leaves, the forest warped and trees bent to give way to a small, narrow path.

"Follow it," Lenesa said, slightly breathless at the exertion. "Do not stray."

Theiden faltered. "But I can't just leave. I promised I'd fight—"

"Go!" Lenesa shouted. "I cannot protect you here."

Theiden cast a last glance to Audeste, who seemed to have completely forgotten about him. Instead, the woman was glaring at Lenesa, muttering under her breath as her hands worked before her, weaving a complex orb of magic.

"Please," Lenesa urged, and Theiden looked back to her. "Run!"

He would have protested, but even the small movement as he turned to Lenesa sent a jabbing pain into his side, and he gritted his teeth to hold back a sound of pain. He had to come to terms with the bitter truth that he would only hinder her at this rate.

He let out a frustrated breath. "Lenesa—"

"Go!" Her voice was harsher now, reminiscent of the first time he had met her, full of raw emotion and urgency. He had mistaken it for rage back then.

Left with no other choice, he turned away and set off down the path. She was just a witch, he reminded himself, and he would be glad to be rid of her if she did end up losing the fight.

The thought didn't stop him from feeling like a terrible coward the entire way back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ta-da!  I promised a Wednesday update, and though it's not Wednesday in most of the rest of the world by now, I've still got a good hour and a half left of my day.  That still counts, right?  Hope you enjoy!  :)