I jumped out of my car and then pawed through my backpack and took a number of things I might need. I strode quickly to the park's entrance and cast my senses for Patrice, turning up nothing. No surprise. I searched for Robin, counting on the fact that Patrice probably wouldn't have thought to cover her tracks. This time I got something and headed into the park, down one of the maintained trails.
Although it was rapidly growing dark, I soon sensed that Robin had left the trail and set off cross-country. If I hadn't had to backtrack so much, I'd have been able to see them ahead of me. As it was, I relied on my senses and realized that the deeper I got into the woods, the more I could actually pick up on a trail of magick. Of course, I expected confusion spells, misdirection spells, and so on, but just the pattern of those spells themselves, where they were placed, what area they covered, was enough for me to triangulate a location. A more experienced witch-or a witch in less of a hurry-would have done a much better job of covering her path.
Besides the lingering prickles of magick I felt around me, I also saw signs that someone-two someones-had been through here recently. And they hadn't been careful about not leaving their mark all over the vegetation. A snapped twig here, the scrape of lichen there. It was a pretty clumsy show. I quickly considered the possibility that there were fake signs, created to mislead me, but I didn't feel that they were. The whole thing felt almost amateurish.
Here in the protected part of the woods, it was almost completely without light and more thickly vegetated. Once again I felt some misdirection spells. They were like tissue paper-I was walking right through them. Good thing Patrice hadn't set up the ones my da had used in Canada- the ones where everything in you is screaming uncontrollably that you'll die a horrible, painful death if you take one more step. Though I had managed to get through those, too.
After another minute or so I stopped and concentrated on Robin's energy pattern. I had never touched Patrice and so wouldn't recognize hers, but I did pick up Robin's, a bit more strongly this time. I turned about ten degrees to the north and set off again, stepping over fallen trees, pushing through thick undergrowth that waved leafy, twiggy branches in my face.
Soon I picked up on some disturbing feelings, of being upset, of fear, of feeling lost. More spells. It was actually rather amazing that Patrice had had enough time to do all of this, considering that she didn't seem experienced in terms of dark magick-plus the fact that I was only a few minutes behind her. All this had taken time. Unless she had set it up beforehand, and I didn't think she had. I told myself it wasn't real, that my mind knew the truth, and just bashed on, regardless. It was the only way to get through.
Though the early evening air was brisk, a chill sweat trickled down the back of my shirt. The air felt stale and muggy, making it difficult to breathe. Patrice's spells were a constant irritant, making me impatient. I damped down all these emotions. Emotions only clouded things in magick. I stopped quietly when I realized I was close. Slowly I stepped forward, a foot at a time, as silently as I knew how. I crouched down on a small patch of damp leaves that wouldn't crinkle noisily under my weight. By edging a bush's branch down, I could see about fifteen feet ahead, to a very small clearing.
Robin was propped against a young sycamore tree, looking lifeless. Her head hung awkwardly to one side, strands of untamable auburn hair falling over her face. Her eyes were mere slits and had no consciousness flickering in them. Bloody hell.
Patrice was a few feet in front of Robin, wearing her yellow robe. I'd refreshed my earlier cloaking spells, and it was clear she had no idea I was there. Leaning over, she began to trace sigils and runes in the air above Robin's head. In her left hand she held a book that looked so old, its pages were brown and crumbling. I realized Patrice was crying as she continued the spell.
I listened hard and heard Patrice saying, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Robin. I don't want to do this, but I have to. I don't know any other way. Please forgive me, Goddess forgive me." Sobs distorted her words. It was the strangest sight I'd ever seen, and that was saying something. I'd never seen someone working dark magick, causing harm to another, but feeling such regret about it at the same time.
From the form of the spell I could tell that Patrice was still working the limitations. From the form of the limitations it was clear that this spell was designed to sap Robin's life energy in a very strong way-such a strong way that I doubted whether Robin would survive. Maybe an incredibly strong witch might, but not Robin.
I took fifteen seconds to settle on a plan and picked an old favorite: the element of surprise. With no warning I burst through the bush, racing toward Patrice, the braigh in my hand. She whirled, stunned, but instantly threw a ball of blue witchfire at me. I swerved and it only glanced off my arm, causing a stinging, tingly feeling like an electric shock. Then she turned and took off through the woods, moving surprisingly quickly. But I was taller, faster, and more ruthless. As I gained on her, she threw another spell at me, but she simply wasn't strong enough to stop me. Within seconds I had tackled her, pinned her to the ground with my knee on her chest, and had her wrists bound in the braigh. There had been times when just achieving this much against a dark witch had been a life-or-death battle. Catching Patrice had been comparatively easy.
Patrice's face was rigid with fear and astonishment, her dark blue eyes wild, the irises surrounded by white. With interest I noted that the braigh wasn't actually burning her wrists-a good sign. The more corrupt your soul is, the more the spelled braigh hurts.
"Seeker?" she whispered, trying to suck in breath.
"Not exactly," I answered, pulling her to a standing position with me. She collapsed instantly, falling against me, and I brought her up sharply, wary of tricks. But she was bent double with sobs, holding her linked wrists in front of her face.
"Oh, Goddess, I'm so sorry! Take me to Robin. Is she all right? Make sure Robin's okay!" Huge, gulping sobs shook her body, and I had to help her back to the clearing.
When we got there, Patrice stumbled toward Robin. She sank to her knees and held her bound wrists out to me. "Just undo this for a minute while I take the binding spell off Robin. Please!"
I narrowed my eyes at her, thinking. Then I knelt and said the spell that opened the lock on the braigh. The silver chain dropped into my hand, and Patrice instantly took one of Robin's hands and gasped out a spell I recognized. Robin blinked and moaned, starting to shift. Patrice reached out to help her, then realized how incongruous and unwelcome that would be. She drew back and like a child crawled toward me and held out her hands. I put the braigh back on her, and she sank down on her side, giving over to racking wails that filled the air with remorse.
I knelt by Robin and saw that she was coming around. I spoke to her softly, explaining what was happening and checking her pupils, her pulse, her breathing. She seemed more or less her usual self, though she was upset and trying not to weep. She looked past me at Patrice, and her face contorted with shared pain. Then, unbelievably, she rose and went over to Patrice and patted her shoulder. Patrice was ashamed and put her fists in front of her face, hiding her face in the ground.