Birthed Vow Read online

  Birthed Vow

  Arcane Witches Book 4

  Jali Henry

  Diverse Worlds Publications

  Copyright © 2022 by Jali Henry

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Also by Jali Henry

  1

  Whee-eeow… Whee-eeow… Whee-eeow…

  The sirens, although deafening, were not something I’d ever heard before. Nonetheless, I understood exactly what they meant, and the knowledge turned my blood cold. The noise assaulted my serenity, creating a constriction in my throat as my belly flip-flopped with fear. Looking up, I squinted through misty, grey skies, seeking signs of the approaching invasion.

  There they were.

  Far away but swiftly approaching, were groups of black-caped witches, like a vast flock of crows. An army of spirit witches was waging war on the Arcane Realm. Behind the witches was a fleet of fighter jets, sustained by anti-gravity magic and laden with bombs.

  Since the Ondeval Hiatus had been invoked by senior arcane officials, the ether was closed. They’d performed the ancient and powerful spell to stop the enemy from entering the Arcane Realm at will. But what kept them out also kept us in. Escaping through the ether to safety was no longer an option.

  Other witches rushed past, some flying, others sprinting, panic etched on their faces as they looked to the skies. In their eyes I saw terror. A stranger shouted a simple command at me, “Run!”

  I followed him and some others as they ran towards a nearby pub. The landlord had opened the trapdoor to the wine cellar and was ushering people in. I practically vaulted down the wooden steps, taking a seat on the dusty, stone floor next to a mother and toddler. The woman looked close to tears as she bit her lip and furrowed her brow.

  “Mama, can we go back to the park after this?” the child asked, her brown ringlets bouncing around her dimples as she stared at her mother with large dark brown eyes.

  “No, I don’t think so, sweetheart. We might have to be down here for quite a while.” She cast her gaze upwards.

  Boom!

  The ground shook. Bits of plaster and dust sprinkled down on us.

  The mother covered her daughter’s head, shielding her from the blast above ground. The girl put her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

  Faraway shouting and bullets punctuated the air. Heavy boots running, people screaming. The sounds of witches and wizards fighting and dying.

  Boom!

  The ground shook again.

  I clasped my hands around my upper arms, trying to steady my breathing, trying to stay calm and strong. But in truth, I was terrified.

  The media had been warning us about this for the last couple of weeks. Relations between the Spirit Realm and Arcane Realm had deteriorated further after the peace talks had broken down following Ambassador Bruton Bell’s death. The Spirit Realm believed we’d assassinated him to get our hands on the Trinity. That was blatant propaganda. I’d killed him in self-defence. But the truth didn’t matter. They’d been desperate to invade us for years. Bell’s death, at my hands, had given them the excuse they needed.

  Boom!

  The noise and vibration penetrated my bones, sending shock waves to my core.

  Overhead, voices shouted gruff commands in a language I didn’t understand. But I’d heard it before. It was the same language I’d heard the Kizmetari use when they’d tried to abduct Phoebe a few weeks earlier.

  I looked back at the mother, and she stiffened. She looked at her daughter and whispered. “You must stay absolutely silent now. No talking at all, not even a single word. No laughing, no coughing. Can you do that for me?” She gulped and her face paled.

  Her daughter’s eyes widened as she heard the fear in her mother’s voice. “Yes Mama.”

  Good. Her mother mouthed, putting one finger to her lips in a ‘shushing’ gesture.

  In the dim light of the cellar, nobody moved a muscle. I stilled my chest, breathing as lightly as possible. If the Spirit Witches realised we were hiding inside here, they’d slaughter the lot of us.

  Across the room, an elderly couple gripped each other’s hands. The man ground his teeth as his wife held onto him. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his forehead. He met my gaze and relaxed his jaw, taking a deeper breath to calm his nerves.

  I tried to give him a kind smile but felt the worry lines still marring my forehead. At least the bombs had stopped… for now.

  Then, we heard the sickening sound of heavy footsteps as the enemy patrolled the street above us.

  The mother closed her eyes. Was she praying?

  The footsteps came closer, each step like the ticking of a time bomb. Now they were directly over us. Guttural voices tossed unintelligible comments back and forth. The trapdoor rattled as one of them grabbed it.

  Even though it was risky, I gulped back fear and slowly got up into a crouch. Nobody in here knew I was the Trinity. My magical powers were more advanced than the arcane witches I shared the cellar with. But was I strong enough to take on an entire group of spirit wizards? I wasn’t sure. My powers were so new, I was still getting used to them. And using them had to be the last resort. After returning from the Druid Realm, I’d gone straight to the Davenport’s house. Phoebe’s mum and dad already knew she’d been abducted again. But they didn’t know I’d inherited the Trinity’s power, after Bruton Bell had killed her. Grandminister Davenport had decided the safest thing for me would be to stay in the Realm, at the Academy, acting like nothing had changed. I was to maintain my position as an academy ignoranti, hide my magical abilities and lie low. My gifts would be needed in the impending war, and he would call on me at the right time.

  The Spirit Realm had a huge advantage over the Arcane Realm. They’d spent decades building a strong, well-trained army. In contrast, the Arcane Realm had concentrated on training vampire hunters, most of which weren’t based in the Realm. Our army was weak, underfunded and vastly outnumbered. The only trump card we had was me…. And the element of surprise. Sure, Hugh Beaufort knew I was the Trinity. He’d made that clear on the phone call he’d made after I’d returned from curing my brother in hospital. But that didn’t mean regular spirit witches knew about me. They certainly didn’t know what I looked like. I’d dyed my hair back to its natural blonde to make it easier to blend into the background.

  But even if Davenport had told me to keep my powers on the down low, I wasn’t about to let a bunch of spirit witches kill a cellar full of women, children, and elderly arcane witches. Besides, if I killed all the approachin
g soldiers, there’d be no one left to tell the Spirit Realm about me.

  The trapdoor rattled again. The landlord had locked it from the inside but that was nothing a simple spell couldn’t undo.

  I took a deep breath, steeling my nerve as I slowly got up, straightening myself into a fighting stance.

  The mother looked at me, her eyes settling into a confused frown as she shook her head. She was warning me not to try it. She probably thought I was some suicidal hero type, intent on going down in a blaze of glory. I chuckled to myself in anticipation of how her mouth would drop when she saw me in action. Whereas before, my magic skills had been ropey and inconsistent, now power flowed through me as naturally as the blood in my veins. I was intent on winning this war and taking down the Spirit Realm administration. That was the only way to make it safe for everyone I loved. And that was the only way to weed out Hugh Beaufort and finally end him.

  My thoughts were disturbed by more harsh voices and the unmistakeable scent of spirit magic which breathed through the air like a subtle gas. It coiled around us, reducing the elderly woman opposite to tears. Her husband drew her close, patting her on the back in a soothing gesture. But his eyes were painted in colours of despair and defeat. He thought his end was near.

  Not on my watch.

  Bham!

  The spirit magic spell matured, and the door flew open. A small squadron of six spirit witches flew in. Muttering incantations, they spread a cloud of obsidian dust through the air. For the arcane witches around me, this was a disaster. Their magic was now nullified, and they were as weak and powerless as humans. But I was no arcane witch, I was a druid and not just any druid - the most powerful druid in the world. As the Trinity, I held all three witch powers. I could control the elements, the spirits and magical arcana. And I intended to unleash the full fury of my powers on these sons of bitches.

  I flew into the air, casting my arms wide to send a pulse of targeted elemental magic over the enemy. Lightning crackled from my hands, hitting each solider in the chest. They cried out, their bodies contorting as their hands formed claws and spittle flew out of their locked jaws.

  But one of the soldiers popped up from behind a barrel of beer. He must’ve darted behind there without me noticing. With a cry of triumph, he flung a magical reduction spell at me. It hit me full frontal, sending me staggering backwards as power drained from my body. The spell wouldn’t last long but its effects were brutal and could put me out of action long enough for this entire cellar of witches to be wiped out by the enemy.

  Worse still, my lightning spell was already wearing off. One of the soldiers stretched his arms and cracked his neck, righting himself to give me a menacing grin. His expression told me just how little he cared about my advanced powers.

  Shit!

  I’d badly underestimated how well-trained these spirit witches were. It made no difference to them that I was the Trinity. In fact, they probably already knew. Maybe that’s why they were here - to capture me. What would happen to the other arcane witches? I looked at the little girl. She was blubbering and whining, terror written on her angelic face.

  The sight shocked me back into action. I’d taken one hit, but it hadn’t harmed me. I was the Trinity. I could take on this lot of spirit witches - I had to. Nobody else would save us. And magic wasn’t my only skill. I was also a badass mixed martial arts fighter.

  I centred myself, silently going into fight mode as I maintained my crumpled position. I had to let them think they’d beaten me. Assessing these men, in much the same way as I would if they were humans, I cocked my head to the side and looked each one over. They weren’t as well-trained in fighting as I was. That was clear from their posture and gait. They probably relied on magic so much that it never occurred to them to train physically. Well, I had both. None of them carried weapons - more magical arrogance. That meant I could serve up a healthy portion of arse-kicking without much risk of physical trauma. The man barking out most of the orders was obviously the leader. He was also the largest. So, he’s who I attacked first.

  Barrelling through the air in an aerial fly kick, I connected with his head, sending him flying to hit the ground with a thud. His hang jaw expression was perfect. I wished I could’ve taken a photo.

  Beside me, two other soldiers raised their hands. They were about to do a spell. And I wasn’t going to let them.

  Leaping into the air, I did a double-straddle kick, hitting them both in the chest to send them staggering backwards. It knocked the magic clean out of their hands, halting their spell as they lay stunned on the ground. And the physical fight had given my magic enough time to recover. I felt it tingle through my fingers now, a warm, comforting sensation that seeped through my bones. I couldn’t help but close my eyes. It was for a fraction of a second but that was all the time it took.

  The squadron leader took to the air, flying over me to deliver a stream of sticky ectoplasm. It wrapped around me like a cage, enclosing my arms and muzzling my mouth. Now I wouldn’t be able to do any magic!

  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, from the trapdoor came the sound of reinforcements! Daylight flooded the basement as more footsteps sounded overhead. Then, spirit witches poured in, crowding the cellar as they shouted more commands. Around me, the arcane witches tried to bargain with them.

  “Please, just let us go. We won’t disturb your plans. Please.” The mother begged, literally on her knees. “My daughter is only three. She’s innocent. Please let us go.”

  The leader’s face was stoic as he looked at her with cold black eyes. “Quiet!” He shouted, clenching his fists. He turned his head to me. “Aren’t we fortunate. On our very first tactical mission here we’ve stumbled upon the fabled Trinity.” He walked forward, each step echoing. “Bree Ryan I presume?” He spat into my eye, and I blinked it away, wishing my arms weren’t still bound.

  My heart sank. Regular spirit witches did know about me. I’d only just acquired my Trinity powers. I’d hoped to at least be able to use them for a while before getting captured. Hell, I’d hoped to become the hero of this war. Now that looked unlikely.

  “My commander will award me a medal when I hand him over to you.” He leant forward, his face inches from mine. His breath smelt like tobacco and death. “Then again, why risk transporting you? I wouldn’t want you to escape on the way.”

  He looked around his men for approval and they duly chuckled away like it was the funniest joke they’d heard all day.

  He looked back at me, and all good humour disappeared from his face. Far better to just kill you now.” When he raised his hands the gesture made the blood drain from my face.

  I recognised the runic signs he was making with his hands. I’d seen them before, when the Ambassador had tried to kill me in the Druid Realm. As he clenched his fists, his face contorted into a snarl.

  My windpipe closed shut.

  Magical suffocation.

  Panic gripped my insides as I struggled in my ectoplasmic binds. I flicked my gaze at each of the other witches. But the obsidian had rendered them helpless. There was nothing anyone could do to help me.

  My chest burned as my desperation grew. I started getting dizzy and squirmed, feeling my eyes bulge. Was this really how it would end for me? Grief and failure mingled with panic. How would I protect my loved ones and avenge myself on Beaufort now? My eyelids fluttered shut as the world faded out of my consciousness and I sank into oblivion.

  2

  “Aargh!” The cry of the spirit witch squadron leader roused me from semi-consciousness, and I heard him hit the floor. His spell instantly evaporated.

  My eyes flipped open, and I gasped, taking huge lungfuls of oxygen. The leader lay at my feet, dead, an axe embedded in his back. What was happening? The spirit witches were no longer concerned with me, they were fighting another force. But I couldn’t see who. Arrows, axes, and spells assaulted them through the trapdoor, but no figures appeared. The mysterious attack felt very familiar to me though. Something nudged at my memo
ry, and I narrowed my eyes as I tried to grasp it. Whoever this was, they were well-trained. The small squadron of spirit realm soldiers was no match for them.

  Within minutes the enemy lay dead at our feet.

  The ectoplasm binds dissolved from around my torso, and I stood up.

  Who had dispatched the soldiers? And why? It didn’t seem likely that this was the arcane army considering this was the first attack that had come.

  As if in answer to my question, a hooded figure entered the cellar. I instantly recognised the leather boots and long purple hooded robe he wore. I’d seen this garment before, in the Druid Realm when we were hunting for the Trinity. He was a member of the Divine Brotherhood. What was he doing in the Arcane Realm? Druids stayed away from the other witch realms. And they certainly didn’t involve themselves in disputes between witch nations.

  The brotherhood member flew over to me and took his hood down. Sunlight bounced off his shaved, golden head. His thick black brows were furrowed in an expression which seemed far from friendly. Pissed off was my closest guess. He towered over me, staring at me with muddy eyes. “Do you answer to the name Bree Ryan?”

  “Yes.” My voice was several pitches higher than normal.

  His expression shifted to a beatific smile. “Then my quest is over.” Sweeping his robe to one side, he lunged forward, bending his knee into a reverential bow. “I have taken a vow of fealty to the Trinity. It is my honour to protect you for my remaining mortal days.”