Witch and Wolf

By Scarsky

Witch Enyla's world is turned upside down when she's chosen to undertake a dangerous journey. Skilled in charms and magic, she remains unprepared for the world outside, filled with treachery and untold secrets.

When Enyla encounters Enoch, a mysterious wolf shifter, she is forced to question her mission and her heart. Tall, dark and dangerous, he sets his sights on her. Despite her fears, she finds herself drawn to him. With no one else to trust but Enoch, she descends ever deeper into a conspiracy that threatens the entire world of Utindia.

Will Enyla ever complete her quest?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarsky
• Release date: May 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9789811872969

Scarsky

Hello, I'm Scarsky!I’m a fiction author who enjoys writing romance, fantasy, and contemporary stories. It's my sincere wish that these books of mine will leave you, my beloved reader, with heartwarming, beautiful memories that'll stay with you long after the last page has been turned. I currently reside in sunny Singapore with my lovely puppy dog, Nicky.Be sure to keep an eye out for my newest books!www.scarsky.com

Book preview

Chapter 1

Voices interrupted Enyla’s meditation. She sat cross-legged before the invisible flame, feeling the heat, seeing the air waver above, yet no glow of fire was evident. What was the nature of this Fire, one of the five elements, the Primordial? Pondering this mystery in the round rock chamber as she did daily, as did all the witches of her coven, had brought her no closer to understanding the Goddess. It made her feel unworthy. Thus, the tiniest interruption proved enough excuse for her to slip from the graven chamber, through one of the many tunnels leading to it like spokes to a hub, and go investigate.

It was considered impolite to speak so close to the miracle of Fire from Air. Of course, to speak near the miracle of Fire from Stone in the chamber above, was punishable by whipping. Still, Enyla wondered who might dare such impropriety.

The Coven Temple’s layout was circular, the outside a dome surrounded by a moat and tall, jagged stone- and earthworks. Inside, two levels of rings, three below and two above, were connected by the five spoked hallways and five central stairways. Footsteps pitter-pattered on the floor mats, coming nearer. Enyla recognized the voices as they closed: Mother Fannia and Sister Zin. She cursed her luck. There was no way to avoid them now, save rushing through the mystery chamber. If caught in the middle of such a disrespectful act, she would be lashed. If Mother Fannia were the one to catch her, the lashings would be many.

Squaring her shoulders, Enyla walked toward the sound. The Superior Sisters rounded the corner of the middle ring as she walked the corridor.

Ah, Zin’s face lit up. The witch in question.

Enyla bowed her head. Good morning, Mother, Sister.

We’ve been searching for you, Little Sister. Where have you been? Fannia, tall and thin, gray hair mostly hidden by her cowl, angled her head in question. Her constant companion was a wolf of sorts. It was a four-legged, black-furred creature on a leash. Most of the time, it remained quiet and still. Enyla lacked the courage to ask more about Fannia’s pet. All she knew was that Enoch was the name of the creature, but beyond that, she had no idea of its origin. It resembled illuminations she had seen of the great woolly wolf from the highlands, with its pointed ears, blunt snout, and golden eyes. The beast’s penchant for walking on its hind legs instantly dispelled any notion that it was a normal wolf.

Meditating at the miracle of Fire from Air, Mother. Which was the truth, although she had only meditated for a few moments.

A pious girl, Fannia, Zin said. The Superior Sister was Fannia’s opposite, short and plump, cheerful, with a curl of gold drooping from her cowl.

Fannia made a dissatisfied sound in her chest. What plans have you, following your pious meditation, Little Sister?

To go to the eastern terrace and seek out Skreelor. Like most of the Sisters at the temple, Enyla had an animal companion of her own—a golden hawk that had come to her a year before. The beautiful bird had a previous owner who trained it well. Skreelor would often act as a messenger to the Library of Bone, bringing her precious materials to work into her charms.

When the Superior Mother’s face fell into disapproval, Enyla realized that she had said the wrong thing. Dominion over animals was a sign of the Goddess’ blessing. Not knowing the hawk’s location was improper.

It is a bird’s nature to fly free, Zin said before Fannia could speak. Consider it a tiny miracle that the hawk favors Enyla at all.

Mother Fannia frowned. Instead of a rebuke, she simply said, Come with us, child.

Enyla followed the two up an inner staircase, although her preference was to take the stairs and terraces that circled the outside of the temple. From the second level, much of the coniferous forest valley came into view, and the surrounding mountain ranges could be seen —the dark, jagged Coals to the east and the higher, softer Molarias to the north. The temple itself was built on the highest point of the valley, a long, curving road leading to villages and farms hidden by the evergreen blanket.

Mother and Sister continued past the upper level to the very top of the temple. The room, low and circular, boasted a large, graven symbol on the floor and, as a domed roof, the miracle of Ice from Earth, also called the miracle of Air from Stone. Foreign emissaries referred to it with a single word—glass. Although this was the top level, the only view here was up. From this chamber, the Sisters charted the stars, the path of the sun and moon, for this was the Calendar.

Enyla had no clue as to why she was here. Her education included some very basic reading of the Calendar, but mastery of the flow of time fell to wizened Elder Sisters who had spent their lives at the calling. She herself could barely count the days to Solstice or Equinox. Thus, she assumed the position she usually did, folding her hands and bowing her head.

Ylandra, attend, please, Mother Fannia beckoned to a bent old woman.

With careful steps, the Elder Sister crossed the circular carving on the stone floor. Small statues stood randomly on the chart, and the old woman struggled not to knock them over with her too-large robes. Yes, Mother Fannia?

Please relate to the child what you have told us, Elder Sister.

Aye, so this be the girl. Ylandra spoke with few teeth, her words slow and hissing. Heed the stars, Little Sister, and discover thy destiny.

Enyla raised her head slowly, following Ylandra’s pointing finger. A statue of a hooded Sister stood close at hand on the round chart, as did a line of smaller figurines of pack animals. All the other figures, most of them similar hooded Sisters, were placed far away from these. After a moment, Enyla realized that the statue represented herself—but what about those others?

Upon the anniversary of your flowering, the Celestial Procession arrives at our temple. It is a strong sign, girl, the Elder Sister said.

A sign of what, Sister? she asked.

All three temple Superiors exchanged a look. With a reluctant expression, it was Fannia who spoke. It would seem that your destiny is to join the Celestial Procession to the Grand Spiritual.

Enyla’s jaw dropped. She had only heard stories of the central temple of the Celestial Goddess, far away in the temperate forest mountains to the northeast. Why in the Goddess’ name would she go there?

Zin answered the question without being asked. Once there, you will undergo the trial to find if the Goddess favors you. Should She do so, you will be among the five guardians of the Fire from Ice, the Holiest of Holies.

All Enyla could manage to squeak out was: Me?

Laughing, Zin nudged Mother Fannia. You see? Humble as well as pious.

"We shall see." Fannia gave her friend a dark look.

The stars declare this destiny. Ylandra folded her arms, frowning. For good, or ill.

Dumbstruck, Enyla just stood there.

Your only task is to bring our greatest miracle to the Celestial Ceremony, and present it to the Goddess herself, Fannia said this as if it were the simplest task in the world.

Enyla’s mind went wide at the thought. Could one bring the miracle of Fire from Air anywhere? It was a miracle, after all, guarded and secret, the invisible flames leaping from a crevice in the stone.

How? she asked.

The procession arrives in a fortnight. You have that much time to discover a way. After all, you’ve meditated on the miracle all your life, Little Sister. Fannia turned in dismissal. Zin gave her a sympathetic look before following.

I shall receive no instruction?

Fannia turned back, her breath a huff. Your destiny is in the hands of the Goddess. May Her favor fall upon you, child.

Her pet, Enoch, faced her and made a noise. While it could be dismissed as a growl or a bark, Enyla heard it distinctly as human laughter.

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She slowly walked to the eastern terrace with its view of the Coals, the black, smoking range that hemmed in the valley from the lands of the subhuman devils. The worship of the Goddess and Her temple here had conquered the valley, along with help from warlock Brothers and their weapons of steel. Worshippers of the Goddess now went about their lives in the villages, safe from the majority of the fierce demon bands. At least, for the most part.

Occasional raids still occurred along the eastern border. The ferocious man-animals would attack, stealing and raping when a village’s guard was down. Every time, however, the arms of the warlocks, even in the hands of the common soldier, had driven the shapeshifters back.

It was through the demon-haunted lands that the Procession would travel. Would warlocks ride as protection? Enyla didn’t know. Her life spent in the temple, she had only seen men at a distance. While she had been told of their ways, read of their exploits, Enyla had never met one in person. She leaned forward suddenly. One of the men she had seen frequently at the foot of the temple appeared from the boundary of the woods.

She did not know his name, even as she recognized him. His hair was a long, black mop of curls, his skin weathered by the outdoors. A muscular frame belied his difficult tasks as even now he bent under the encumbrance of a bundle of saffron wood sticks that must weigh nearly as much as he. With slow but steady steps, he marched his burden past the stables, and into the commoner’s area of the temple.

Enyla knew only of men from warnings that they sought the one thing she must protect in order to remain in the Goddess’ favor. Her virtue. While she had often fantasized about being romanced by a strong, handsome man, her experience with such situations was absolutely zero. She had little idea of what being intimate with a man might mean. She fully understood that males and females coupled in order to produce their young, but what exactly that might entail eluded her utterly.

Skreelor screeched, circling high in the sky. Enyla double-folded her voluminous sleeve for a perch and held out her arm. Skreelor’s sudden appearance chased the thoughts of men from her mind. A good thing too - she had much more important matters to focus on. The golden hawk landed on her arm, its talons digging despite the thick wool.

What did you bring me, bird? I hope it’s the answer to an impossible question.

Squawking, Skreelor dropped a gem seed in her palm. The reddish jewels grew on trees that carpeted the highest slopes of the Coals. It was valuable on its own, but even more so as an ingredient to be woven into a charm against demons. She was nonetheless disappointed that it was not as a solution for transporting a Miracle across thousands of leagues.

Thank you, anyway, Skreelor.

In response, the hawk gripped her arm painfully, and furiously flapped its wings. Thinking the bird wanted to fly off, Enyla extended her arm. Instead, the bird’s vise-like talons gripped even more fiercely onto her arm, its wings flapping so furiously that her hood was blown off, sending her shocking red hair flying in every which direction.

Confused, she turned her face from the battering wings. I could swear that you are trying to tell me something. What is it, girl?

Skreelor lets loose its cry. Once more, it flapped its great, golden wings. With a quick cock of its head, the bird gazed into Enyla’s eyes. Then, with a flex of its legs, and another mighty flap, the bird leaped and soared away.

Like the seed gem in her hand, the bird had planted an idea in Enyla’s head. While the thought was still little more than an embryo, she hurried to her cell. She grabbed a candle from her windowless room, and lit it from a taper in the hall. What made that bird-brought idea seem to twitch and develop a little more though, she could not say.

The dark cell contained a sleeping mat and a small writing desk that she sat on her lap. Precious scraps of paper, torn down to the space of her palm, rested on a shelf within the lap desk, along with a pad of ink and a quill. Paring the point with a charm knife from her robes, she wet it in her basin and scrawled it across the dry ink. Thinking furiously, for only a few lines would fit, she scrawled out a message.

She waved the shred in the air as she returned to the terrace, drying her words. As if expecting her, Skreelor circled high above, descending through the rising air currents of the valley to land again on her arm. With a final blow on the still-shining ink, she wrapped it around Skreelor’s leg with a bit of twine.

To Quayla, at the Library of Bone, she said to the hawk.

With her familiar cry, the hawk launched again into the air. Enyla could only hope that Quayla, her friend at the library, would understand her note and find the scrolls she needed. She could also only hope one other thing: that Mother Fannia would grant permission for her to journey to the village.

Chapter 2

Superior Fannia sat in her cell, one much more comfortable than Enyla’s own. The woman hunched at her embroidery near a hearth blazing with fragrant yellow wood. Enyla tried to tamp down her envious thoughts—Fannia’s basin probably never froze over during the cold season. She cleared her throat and stood with head bowed, taking in the room. Large stacks of the yellow wood sat on each side of the hearth. Saffron wood, Enyla thought. Enoch, the strange creature, growled at her presence. A forming idea floated away as Fannia’s stern visage met Enyla’s eyes.

What is it, child?

She tried to stem the stammer that wanted to tumble out. I- I would like permission to visit the Library of Bone tomorrow, Superior.

Enyla squeezed her eyes shut. She expected a lot of hemming and hawing about how the Keepers of the Word were not in direct relation to the Celestial Temple, how Enyla should focus on her meditation of the mysteries within her own community, and how she should not be distracted by the secular world.

If you can get Sister Zin to escort you, you may go.

Bowing to hide a smile, Enyla thanked Fannia, and stepped back into the hall. Meditating on the same old thing might not bring her a solution, but she bet that Quayla the Keeper would have some good ideas.

Sister Zin nearly always agreed to accompany Enyla to the library. Of course, the trick was finding the elusive woman. Zin had a way of disappearing from the temple. Often, Enyla would find her in a room that she had already searched. She sighed. Thus began the regular game of hide and seek.

Like all things Primordial, pertaining to the five elements, the order was arranged in five groups of five. The Superiors consisted of Superior Fannia and the Sisters, Zin, Melda, Autamm and Hernianna. She asked each of the three other Sisters where Zin might be and received three different answers. All of these were off-hand and absent. The procession was only three days away, and the processional feast in a fortnight. The leading Sisters had much to attend to, it would seem.

Below the Superiors were the Elder Sisters, who delved deeply into the mysteries and had little contact with the community. They were of no help, of course.

Then came Enyla’s own rank, the witches, Mirrah, Anala, Kirsta, and Ky. Each of them pointed her to a different area of the temple where they had last seen Zin. No luck there.

Enyla turned to the laity. These were women who worked for the coven. She asked the cook, the washwoman, the craftswoman , the gardener, and the potter. Each of them indicated that Zin was last headed for the eastern terrace.

When Zin proved not to be at the terrace, Enyla turned to the lowest of the coven servants. These were harder to find as they all lived outside the temple, and it was either too early or too late for any of them to be at work. She did find Ija, the cook’s girl, hauling water from the well on two buckets hung on either side of a pole.

I’ve only just seen her, on the high terrace. At least, I believe it was her. It is some distance from the well.

At last, an actual sighting. Thanking the girl, Enyla rushed up the stairs to the top level, and down a spoke hallway toward the northern terrace. A strange sound stopped her cold, something she’d never heard before. Sounds of whistling and whining in a wet, labored way seemed to issue from around the corner. This was followed by a harsh, scolding whisper.

You have revealed yourself, cur. How displeased your mistress must be.

Following this high-pitched admonishment, a loud thump like a drum beat could be heard echoing down the hall. The pained noises stopped suddenly. With no idea what was happening, Enyla stood frozen with indecision. Mother Fannia had always said that curiosity would be her undoing, that Enyla needed to attend to her faith and not her wild ideas. A decision was made for her. A robed, cowled witch swept into the hall, whirling on her. From the dramatic, angry motion the figure made, Enyla nearly did not recognize Zin.

After a moment of breathing deeply, Sister Zin’s face went from heated anger to soft inquisitiveness. What is it, Little Sister?

Enyla felt her jaw drop and closed it. She wanted to ask Zin what that horrible noise was. Or mayhap, she didn’t, not really. After a period of awkward silence, she found her tongue. By your leave, Sister, may I ask that you escort me to the Library of Bone tomorrow?

Zin smiled, nodded. If we leave at first light, then yes, we shall. I’ve much to settle with the village masters regarding the processional caravan.

Thank you. Enyla bowed, trying to hide her eyes, straying toward the corner. She could not.

Unless you wish to see the cruelty of Mother Fannia fully unleashed, I would not venture down the corridor, Little Sister.

Cruelty? Enyla had never seen Fannia cruel. Strict, disappointed, angry, and burdened, yes, but never cruel. Yes, Sister.

Zin chuckled. I think Fannia is right about your curiosity, girl. Nothing can stay you from your natural inquisitiveness. You would put a feline to shame. Do what you will, Enyla. Just don’t say I did not warn you.

Not knowing how to respond, Enyla bowed again as Zin swept past down the hall. After the Sister’s footsteps had faded, she moved tenuously toward the corner. A single glance lent speed to her feet. Enoch, Fannia’s beast, lay against the curved wall. The mats of the floor were red with its blood. Crouching, she could see the slight rise and fall of its body. It was still breathing.

She had never gotten so near to the animal before. Up close, she could see a soft wooly coat and very pointy ears. It wore a collar, not unlike her own demon-repelling one, but in silver and jade beads. Her heart did a little pattering dance. It was a cute animal. Though, ehe still could not say what that creature was exactly - it was rather small to be an ordinary wolf.

Not pleasant in the slightest were the injuries. From what she could discern, deep cuts ran along the flank of the animal. One eye was closed shut by swelling and blood. Was Fannia capable of hurting an innocent animal like this? Whatever could it have done to displease her so?

Blood covered the floor mats, seeping to the stone below. It set off bells in her head. If Enyla did not do something, Enoch would surely die. She had healing charms in her cell, but that was all the way on the eastern side of the temple, and down one level. The beast was not very large, but very muscular, which, by the looks of it, he must weigh at least three stone.