《A Witchstone Cursed (A Dark Portal Fantasy)》Chapter 47

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Geist, unbeknownst to me, had also seen the giant circle below us. As we moved closer, I saw his toes extend in preparation.

We were both floating down at the same height so when his feet touched, mine did as well.

The circle has regular gravity. We won’t be floating anymore.

Geist didn't waste any time and spat out the spent witchstone. He brought his right arm up towards me and his fingers lengthened, twisting into gnarled talons. The skin turned black all the way up to the elbow and was replaced with what looked like cracked rock. He squeezed his fist hard and slammed it down on the circle.

I felt the vibration in my feet.

Looking up at me, Geist smiled.

I slowly backed away while tracking where the edge of the obelisks was. I didn’t want to touch one and end up as Flin had.

As I glanced to check my surroundings, I saw Silvy riding atop one as it slid forward. The forest of obelisks parted before her own, still dripping with Flin's blood, right to the edge of the circle so she could continue her feast while watching us duel.

She’s going to watch Geist duel and me scamper in terror.

I turned back to see that Geist wasn't even paying much attention to me. He’d slipped his hand into his other pocket and pulled out another witchstone. He pressed this one into his face. When he brought his hand away, I saw that the witchstone was black and had stuck to his forehead.

It shimmered there. Then the stone did something I'll never forget.

It opened.

It was like he had a third eye directly at the center of his forehead, only the entire eye was black minus a tiny white dot of a pupil at the center. The dot rolled around crazily before it locked on me.

As soon as it locked in on me, my mind started whirling.

Why am I fighting him? Geist isn't a bad person. Geist was just trying to do the best thing he could for his son and for the magick world. He’s a good man; I’m a terrible person. I’m a rogue stick who came into their—

I shook my head, blinking several times.

Geist smiled at me. “It gets stronger,” he said.

I stared at the witchstone eye.

It shifted your emotions and altered your thoughts.

Before this moment, I’d believed spells in the magick world were simple. I’d thought they were like bullets for a gun, only different sorts of magickal bullets. The gun Geist was using had just fired an insidiously complex and psychological bullet. Something that could ruin me from the inside without Geist ever having to get close to me. He wouldn’t even have to use his rocky talons.

How many times has a witchstone like that been used in the stick world and no one was the wiser?

Geist reached again into his pocket.

How does he keep pulling out new witchstones?

Only this time he didn’t pull out a witchstone. A strange wood and metal contraption that looked not unlike a harmonica sat in his hand. He removed a witchstone from a slot in the thing before tossing the entire contraption away.

I watched it carefully, fully expecting it to spring to life as a metal and wood scorpion and attack me.

Geist laughed at my obvious ignorance. “It's for duelists. It's a holster for witchstones.”

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Of course it is, and Geist is one of the best duelists in all the magick world. It would be suicide to go up against him. In fact, I should just kneel before him, let him end it all quickly. It would be so easy to—

“No!” I shouted at him, forcing the thoughts out of my head.

The worst part was the completely natural way the thoughts wriggled into my mind.

I couldn't actually tell they were different from my own thoughts until the logical part of my mind rebelled. That was the only way to fight against it, to realize what was happening.

Otherwise, they feel like my own thoughts, they feel like thoughts that I would think, thoughts that I would have. Thoughts like Geist is a good guy, Geist should win this, Geist should be freed from this place so he can go back to his life, to live and make the magick world a much better place than it—

“Stop!” I shouted.

Geist squeezed the witchstone in his left hand and I heard a single sharp crack. The crack turned into a crackling and veins of flame raced up towards his shoulder. His arm ignited and the skin within the flames turned completely black, but within the flames, beneath the black skin, I could see what looked like lava, magma. Geist held his hand up to his face and then looked at me. He flicked his fingers and five huge fireballs shot in my direction.

I should stay right where I am. I'm always cold. The fire would be so nice. It—

I rolled out of the way.

“You’re not cold here,” I hissed to myself. “Focus.”

The Shadow Vaile was the one place where I ever seemed to warm up, where I felt comfortable, where the chill actually left my bones.

Geist's left eye twisted to the side. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry.”

He smiled and that black eye at the center of his head rolled wildly before fixing itself on me. I lunged to the side

Maybe if you get out of the way, maybe if you just slip outside of its gaze, you’ll be fine. You could even slip into the obelisks, hide in their shadowy forest. You could be safe in the obelisks. That’s a good idea, let’s just—

“Stop it!” I shouted and froze in place. I’d started walking toward the closest obelisk.

The obelisks had killed Flin and I had a good feeling they would do the same to me. The black eye was forcing increasingly dangerous thoughts into my head. Thoughts that felt like they made sense for a longer period before I could fight them. This time, I’d even started fulfilling the thought’s end goal.

“You know,” Geist said, lazily flicking five more fireballs in my direction, causing me to dive to the side and roll. He took several steps towards where I crouched after hitting the ground too hard. “When I was tasked with dealing with you, I never knew you'd be such a pain in the ass.”

“Tasked?” The question came out almost automatically.

He was tasked with me? Like I was a job?

“Oh yes,” Geist said through a sigh. “At first, I just thought it was a regular job. You know…” He cleared his throat and started a bizarre imitation on a lilting French or British accent. I couldn’t tell which. “Keep your eyes on this Hexana Covington. See that you get access to Blackhart.” He laughed and his voice went back to normal. “After that, I was supposed to watch you, I was supposed to have Flin watch you. Do you know how truly predictable you are?”

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I chewed on my lip.

If you run right at him, if you run with your hands outstretched, you might be able to get your hands around his throat, might be able to strangle him or crush his windpipe. He wouldn't expect that…

I licked my lips and leaned back, prepared to launch myself forward.

“Stop!” I shouted, my knees buckling. It would have been suicide. Between the fire in his left arm and hand, and the sharp rocky talons in his right, I had no chance against him.

Geist laughed. “It's getting harder, isn't it? That's the insidiousness of it. It starts slow. You realize what's happening, but then as it continues, it becomes harder and harder to tell which thoughts are yours and which are mine.”

There was something about the way he said that, something so disgusting about him putting his own thoughts into my brain, slipping them in there and allowing them to fester before they blossomed into slimy, poison tipped flowers, that made me want to throw up.

“Who hired you?” I asked, swallowing back the bile.

Geist laughed. “I could tell you, but it wouldn't matter. It would just be a name. A word. You don't know him. You don't know what he does. You don't know enough about the magick world to know what you don't know.”

I snorted at that. “That's a fucking lie. I don't know about anything. That includes everything. I know what I don’t know.”

Geist stared at me for a moment before fixing me with a kind look. He held both of his arms out. “Let's have a hug.”

And he did need a hug. He’d just lost his son.

That must be tough. A hug won't hurt anything. I can give him a hug and we can go right back to what we were doing. That should be fine. In fact, that would be the most benevolent sort of thing to do.

I stood up from my crouch and began walking towards him, my own arms outstretched.

“Stop!” I screamed, and even after I screamed it, my feet took an additional three steps.

This is only going to get worse.

I started crying when I realized that I didn’t know whether that last thought was his or mine.

Was it me acknowledging to myself how much worse this was going to get? Or was it him explaining what’s to come?

Eventually, he’d be able to make me do anything and believe that it was my own wonderful idea. He would be able to make me walk into the obelisk forest, or towards him. Either way, it would all be over.

I glanced up at Silvy, but she'd curled up around the tip of the obelisk and was sleeping.

I took a deep breath and refocused my energy. There was really only one weapon I had. There was only one way I could win this battle.

One way, and one way only. Like the familiar portal, you’re going to have to rely on treachery, on lying.

Through the tears, I prayed that these thoughts were my own.

“Okay,” I said, “I give up. I'll do it.”

Geist stopped moving. “You'll do it?”

“Yes.”

“Do what?”

“I'll get you out of here. In exchange for the theatre.”

“What else?” he asked, giving me a shiteating grin.

I smiled. My own words thrown back at me.

I licked my lips, thinking through what I could possibly offer, what I, a stick, could possibly give him that would be worth anything.

I spun my tongue around my left fang, tapped it once, and made up my mind.

“I'll give you the Builder’s Stone. When I told your son I knew how to get it, when I told him to tell you that, I wasn't joking. I do know how to get it.”

Geist laughed. “Why would I ever believe you?” He took a step closer but stumbled and fell down to one knee. I saw his left eye shoot off to the side again. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry. Sorry.”

He stood back up and shook his head. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“When did you get two heads?” he asked.

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I had a good feeling the Shadow Vaile was finally starting to work its own sort of magick on him. And even though I knew he was slowly going insane, that his brain was slowly being corrupted, I also knew he wouldn't let it go too far before he made his move to finish me off.

You’re going to have to kill him first. That's what this was always going to come down to. Him versus you.

I swallowed.

Are those his thoughts or yours?

“I’ll get the Builder’s Stone in the same way I got us out of your shop and into the Shadow Vaile.”

“Familiar portal…” he said, thinking to himself. His eyes narrowed and he took several steps towards me. “You can open a portal to the Shadow Vaile, but I don't believe you can open a portal to—”

Geist suddenly quit walking. His brown eyes went wide before they slammed shut. I took several steps back, no longer aware of the obelisks’ location.

What is this? Another attack? Something new?

The witchstone at the center of his forehead fell off, hitting the ground and bouncing with a bright click! When it next came down, it shattered.

The flame running through Geist’s left arm died, flickering down into blue flames and then into nothing. The magma running in veins up and down his arms slowly cooled as well, and his skin returned to its regular form and color.

The tips of the fingers on his right hand fell off. The rocky talons disintegrated into ash, big chunks of stone sloughing off his skin until he was left with his regular arm again. His body slowly returned to its original size and form and, as it did so, he stilled completely.

Geist moved so little that it didn’t look as though he was breathing. He looked like something out of a wax museum.

When he did move again, the only movement came from his eyelids. He opened them and stared at me.

I sucked in a startled breath.

His eyes no longer had pupils and there was no white where there should have been.

His eyes were a glistening blood red.

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