Conical helms protected their heads, and boiled leather armor, solid enough to deflect a weapon, completed their defensive equipment. But Cormac worried about those blades. Unlike local forces equipped with spears and bows, this pair wore swords and daggers. Fine steel weapons were too expensive for town protection.
“Looks like two witches and their boy servants, Lars.”
The whisper of steel being drawn dropped the temperature in the grove several degrees. Cormac’s sweat instantly dried as he concentrated on the reflected light dancing along the waving blade. The man speaking had missing teeth, like someone growing up who lost too many fights.
“Might have to save the boys from these witches. Never can tell what spells they cast over them,” the second guard said. This one also drew his blade and threatened the group.
Cormac slipped in front of his friends. “Hey, no witches or spellcraft here. We’re locals, from Densen.”
“You think the devil took over his tongue, Reiner? First thing you’d expect from witches.” The second guard was taller than his compatriot, and he had dark eyes that bounced between Maren and Jolina.
Cormac didn’t like those looks, and he held his arms out wide to form a human barrier between himself and his friends. “Look, we don’t want any trouble. Let us get the rest of our clothes and get back to town. We can get you a good bed and some food at the Farmer’s Delight. It’s the local inn. On us.”
Raham nodded and stood next to Cormac. His family owned the Farmer’s Delight and would back up the offer.
“Need your clothes, huh. Think it was some sort of mating ritual?” The first guard pointed his blade at Cormac’s belly but stayed about three paces away. One lunge and the blade would be in his gut. But they stopped their advance.
“We’re not doing that here.” Maren snapped at the pair. Cormac sensed the first trickle of power coursing through Maren’s body. It wouldn’t be visible to the pair yet, but she also knew which way this was going.
“Ok, then we’ll take you back to camp for questioning.” The second guard never took his eyes off Maren.
“Step aside, boys,” Lars growled his command, and the first guard eyed Jolina.
They made their choices, and Cormac and Raham were in the way. Cormac wondered if this pair of thugs would leave witnesses behind. Their hidden glen was remote, and no one would come looking for the four friends for at least a day. And if the ladies ended up in their field camp, wherever that was, Cormac doubted they would ever return.
He was out of choices, and the ones remaining looked bad.
Waving their swords, the pair of guards separated the young men from their friends. The first guard lowered his blade and grabbed Jolina’s arm as a lecherous smile lit his face.
Jolina’s eyes flared. That was the best way to describe what Cormac saw. A flash of intense red light illuminated the clearing, and the guard snapped his hand back as his glove cooked and smoldered from the intense heat. Shock and pain flashed across Reiner’s face, but anger replaced it.
Cormac dodged a backhand blow by slipping under the blade and danced back to the water’s edge. The other guard thrust toward Raham’s stomach, catching the young man’s clothes with the tip of the blade. Raham scrambled backward.
“Kill the witches,” Lars shouted.
Pushing Cormac out of close range gave the soldier room to swing his blade. No longer intent on capture, the man went straight for Jolina’s throat. Cormac couldn’t move fast enough to grab the soldier’s arm, and Jolina crouched with her arms up in defense.
Steel impacted and flashed, sending sparks skittering along the forest floor. The blade’s impact shifted from a pure ring to a snap as the weapon's tip plunked into the standing water. Reiner looked down at his shattered blade and then at his target.
Jolina’s arms were untouched by the weapon, but she glowed in a shifting red light that pulsed with each thump of her heart. She glanced down at her uninjured body and undisturbed clothes with the same disbelief as Reiner.
The man hauled his arm back and threw the ruined sword at Jolina’s glowing body, and she didn’t bother to duck or hide. Inches away from her skin, the blade dropped to the moist earth. He drew his dagger from his belt.
“Lars, help me.”
But Lars was already busy with his engagement. Raham slid away from the fight as the man wielded the sword in two hands. Maren watched the sweeping blows toward Raham and prepared her defense.
A crooked smile appeared as Raham backed away, and the man turned toward Maren. He swung low, toward Maren’s feet, and then tried a quick reverse toward her middle. But Maren summoned a column of air and slammed it into Lars’ chest. His feet slid backward, leaving two trails in the forest clearing.
“They are witches.”
Lars and Reiner came forward again, and Cormac couldn’t will his feet to move. His friends needed him, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from their arcane display. They were amazing.
Reiner moved swiftly, shifting his weight and moving in fast with the dagger held low. Jolina’s confidence wilted under the pressure, and her glow flickered. The evil grin returned as he approached striking range.
Cormac sensed the tidal wave of power building within Jolina. He and his experienced friends never tried to harness that much energy. She transformed. Her posture stooped, gray hair whipped around her face, and she summoned even more power. She aged right before Cormac’s eyes.
Jolina unleashed her arcane hatred in a pure blast of fury. Fires leaped out from her hands and enveloped the shocked Reiner. Clothes burned away in a flash, and the armor smoldered under the unrelenting heat. A mortal body couldn’t stand the intense blaze, and Reiner collapsed to the ground.
Jolina poured more energy into the unmoving body.
Lars fared no better than his friend. Maren wielded the air around them like her own weapons. She blocked a pair of blows before they could
