Out of Tune

holding me at shoulders, torso, and legs. For now, it felt supportive. My lovers, although most were quite bulky, were able to leave some room for the Witch Leaders. I don't think it mattered that much; the Witches wouldn't need a lot of space to work, just enough for a clear line of sight to me and perhaps an outstretched hand. They stood beside my men, one Witch at each side and each end of the table. My men outnumbered them by one, which meant that Osamu stood between Declan and Banning on my left while only Vivian and Torin took up the space to my right.

“Try to relax,” Odin, who stood near my feet with Gage, said to me.

I gave him the look that statement deserved, and he chuckled.

“There is no stopping once we begin, Elaria,” Osamu warned me. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

“I'm certain. Just get on with it, please.”

The Witches began to chant. I recognized the language as the one all Witches employed for casting, but I couldn't tell you what they said. My magic never required me to learn such things; my language was music. Witch hands lifted and extended over my body. Then they began to glow. Magic coalesced around their palms; each manifestation unique to its caster. Odin's glowed golden-green with motes of Earth suspended in the air around his hand. Vivian's light was sapphire and sprinkled with Water droplets. Swirls of pale yellow Air blew around Glinda's hand. And Osamu presented a cupped palm full of Fire that emitted a red haze.

The Elements suddenly speared out from the Witches' hands and collided above me, forming a cumulus cloud of sparking, glowing, crackling energy. I stared at the miniature storm warily. Then, out of the corner of my eyes, I caught a sharp movement; a downward slash of the hands controlling the magic.

The magical conglomeration slammed into my chest. I gasped with the impact and closed my eyes automatically. Inside my body, a battle exploded; my magic against the invading forces. My Goddess Fire and Light joined with my Spellsong to form a shield around my heart, where RS had taken refuge. I began to tremble then shake. My lovers' hands tightened and pressed down.

“Elaria, you have to stop fighting us,” Odin ordered.

“I'm not. It's the magic,” I grit out past clenched teeth.

“It's your magic!” Glinda hissed from somewhere above my head. “Control it, damn you! If you can work with us instead of against us, this will go so much easier.”

I took a shaky breath and focused.

Listen to my voice, my love, Kyanite said soothingly. There is no danger here. They are helping you.

I know that.

You know it, but your magic doesn't, he insisted. You must feel it. Relax your muscles; let go of your anxiety. Imagine your body becoming liquid.

I can't help you, El, RS said in a strained voice. I thought perhaps I could, but I can't. I'm too afraid. I can barely stop myself from begging you to protect me.

It's okay, RS, I said gently. You can be afraid. I'll be strong for you this time.

I felt her relax and it helped me to relax. I let out a breath and my magic withdrew; laid down its arms and opened the gates. I had a moment of peace before the agony hit. You know that annoying itch you get that's just under the skin? The one that's impossible to scratch? It started like that but then the itching turned into a burning. No; a tearing. No; freezing. It was so many terrible things rolled together. Grinding against me, changing with every breath. The magic dug into me with its metaphysical claws and tore me apart like a dog digging for a buried bone and I was the soil. It had entered my body directly over my heart but didn't sink into that organ. Instead, the spell spread upward; slicing apart my brain, blinding me, and setting my teeth to gnashing. My muscles there strained. I could barely breathe past the constriction in my throat.

“Verin, hand me that cloth!” Glinda demanded. “Here, Elaria, you can bite on this.”

Glinda eased my mouth open and laid a rolled piece of fabric between my teeth. I clamped down on it and moaned. My jaw creaked, threatened to break, but that pain was minor compared to the needles surging through my blood.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the Witches' spell moved down, and I spat out the cloth to gasp in air. But, seconds later, I clenched my jaw again to keep from screaming. The magic was moving down the sides of my torso, infiltrating my organs; all but my heart. It sliced through my belly, seared my sex, and slashed down my thighs. My kneecaps felt as if they might pop out of my skin, what with all the violent energy running beneath them. My calves went rigid with intense charlie horses. My toes curled. The pressure built and built. But still, I didn't scream. I moaned and writhed but didn't scream. Not for pride but for love; for my husbands.

“You're doing good, El,” Gage's words were encouraging but his tone was filled with tears.

“Nearly there, little bird,” Torin added in a stronger voice.

Then the magic moved back to my chest.

RS shrieked so stridently that it blocked all other sounds. She condensed herself in my heart like a stone, clogging my blood flow. My heartbeat stuttered. My body went rigid. The Witch spell seeped into RS despite her solidity and the process felt like acid in my chest. All of my magic trembled, hanging on the precipice of Hell. Kyanite roared like a wounded beast.

And I screamed at last.

My men were speaking to me, their hands restraining me as my body fought the torture, but I couldn't make out their words. Not past the sound of my own ragged cries. I couldn't stop and there was power in my voice. My magic had found an outlet. The table shook. It caught