The Watchers Book 1: Knight of Light

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Sisters of Power

My face pressed against the cold dirt floor of an unfamiliar, dim room. I took a breath of dusty air, laced with the thick scent of rotting wood and mold. I coughed out the bitter taste of decay. Pain shot through my bones like hot metal. I strained for my mangled leg, but leather straps held my wrists together. Dark blood spotted the filthy bandages lining my calf.

I held my breath. My eyes darted around the room. Where was the wolf? Why hadn’t I been killed? Why were my hands bound? Who would hold an injured girl captive?

Rows of dusty, knotted pine shelves held jugs and glass bottles of all sizes. Gnarled roots dangled from cracks in the ceiling. I writhed, struggling to free my hands until the straps cut into my wrists. A fireplace smoldered with amber and crimson coals pulsing through the ash. The only sunlight came from a tiny, dim window full of cobwebs.

“This is not a good place to be,” I whispered to myself. I put the leather straps between my teeth and gnawed on the taste of salt and dirt, trying to free myself as I searched the cluttered room for a way out.

I saw two doorways. The first was dark, as if leading to some abyss, but bright sunlight beamed like a halo between the edges of the other door.

I opened my mouth and dabbed the bad taste of old leather on the sleeve of my dress. I could get the straps off later, but first I needed to get far away from this place.

I pushed myself off the floor to stand. Pain shot through my bandaged leg and gripped my stomach with pure agony, threatening to make me vomit. I fell back and sank into a beast of shadowy fur and powerful muscles.

Red eyes and wicked teeth contrasted with the long, black snout and matted fur of the Shadow Wolf. I shrieked, causing the spiders in the window to flee to the corner.

I jolted away from the wolf and scurried across the dirt floor on my forearms. My injured leg dragged behind me like dead weight. The wounds reopened and fresh blood soaked through the bandages. I knew I was going to be eaten this time.

I lifted my bound hands over my head and braced myself for another attack. When nothing happened, I took several short breaths and opened one eye.

The wolf’s tongue hung lifeless from a gaping jaw of blood-stained teeth. I had no doubt the blood was mine.

The dark wooden door in the back of the cottage screeched open on broken hinges. A shriveled old woman rushed toward me with an erratic stride. “Yer awake! What be yer name?” The hag seemed excited and paid no attention to the massive wolf lying in a crushed heap on the floor. 

I pointed at the evil beast. I couldn’t catch my breath to press out audible words.

With one hand, the old woman grasped the massive wolf and shook it like an old coat. “Yes, it be dead. It tried ta kill ye, it did. But I, Hazella Lamia, saved ye.”

The wolf’s corpse was bigger than Hazella, but the old woman held it like it was weightless. “I sees this old wolf tryin’ ta eat ye in the woods. I crushed its skull in, I did.” Hazella gripped the wolf’s leg and snapped it back to prove her point. 

Hazella smiled, showing a mouth of jagged teeth. She pressed the wolf’s body against the table and swung a knife into it. “Now we be eatin’ it,” Hazella cackled. A crazed look danced in the old hag’s colorless eyes as she ripped the flesh from the wolf and tossed it into the pot over the fire.

“Be ye hungry?” Hazella asked in a tactless, cheery tone. I covered my nose to muffle the smell of Hazella’s rancid clothing covered in blood and sewage. 

I had to find a way to escape. I glanced at the door leading outside. Maybe I could fight through the pain of my mangled leg and run.

The old woman twisted her lips and squinted. “I don’t needs no troublemakers or liars. I know yer hungry. See this here necklace?” With the bloody knife, Hazella tapped a brilliant ruby necklace hanging over her sagging bosom. “This here necklace is gettin’ old, and I needs ta make a new one. The problem be those pixies. Until I gets a new one, I needs yer help. Once I gets it, then I will leave ye where I found ye, if yer a good girl.” The last words trailed from her lips like a threat.

I couldn’t imagine how I could help the old woman. The hag was so strong, while I couldn’t even walk.

Hazella hobbled toward the sooty pot, filled a bowl with steaming wolf stew, then dropped it in front of me. “Eat. It’ll help ye ta feel better, or I’ll give ye ta the wolves now.” 

I couldn’t fight off the old woman. Hazella could snap a bone in two like a piece of dry straw. I had to come up with some kind of escape plan. 

Hazella swung her knife toward me. The knife whistled through the air and slit the leather straps between my wrists. I jumped and slid back. The hag held the knife ready at her side and eyed me in the same inhuman way the Shadow Wolf had. “What be yer name, girl?” 

I rubbed my raw wrists. “I’m no one, just a servant.” I wasn’t about to give a crazy woman my real name. “Everyone just calls me girl,” I answered.

Hazella put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “I’m just a servant too, and I wants to know why this here Shadow Wolf was takin’ ye ta Lord Erebus.” Hazella pointed to the lifeless wolf lying skewered across the table. Its bowels spilt like red noodles to the floor.

My jaw dropped. I couldn’t think of any reason why Lord Erebus, leader of the Shadow Legion, would want me. I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I answered. 

Hazella tilted her head and eyed me with one bulging eye as if trying to look into my soul. “Very well, girl. Ye must be my servant now and never try ta leave nor go beyond sight of this here cottage, or the hungry wolves will eat ye.” Hazella plopped into a chair next to the fire and sipped on her Shadow Wolf stew. “We be sisters you and I,” Hazella muttered casually.

I stared at the wolf stew in front of me and pretended to be interested in eating it. Hazella was the oldest person I had ever seen before. How could the crazy witch think we were sisters?

“Yes,” Hazella hissed. Her gnarled fingers strained like claws around her bowl. “Sisters of power. We ‘ave more in common then ye know.”

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