The Witch's Gamma

Chapter 2

Eight Years Ago

Allie

Adrenaline coursed through her as shouts and growling masculine voices let Allie know she succeeded in gaining the wolves in the woods’ attention. Tears streamed down her face as she pumped her legs. She had to get far enough from the tree that the wolves wouldn’t smell the children and the children wouldn’t see her or hear her screams when the wolves inevitably caught up. Allie was fast, but she knew she couldn't outrun full-grown werewolves. She started to pool her magic at her hands as she pumped her legs. Charging them up for a spell she didn't have. She didn't know a lot of offensive magic, and what she did know wasn't very strong. Very few in their peaceful village specialized in offensive magic. But it was her only way out. If the wolves reached her, they would tear her apart.

Deciding to hold her ground, Allie spun on her heels, surprising the two wolves that were barely three yards away, much closer than she anticipated. Allie did something she had been told her whole life not to do. She pulled all her power into her hands and threw it at the werewolves. The raging violet fire-like balls flew at her would be attackers. An angry scream wrenched from her throat as pain roared through her. It felt as if the magic was ripping from her and taking her organs with it.

Wavering on her feet, Allie watched one ball knock the closer wolf off his feet, careening him into a tree, his head bouncing hard on the trunk, easily. The second wolf was already in a crouch, claws out when her magic hit him square in the face. His neck whipped at an odd angle and Allie swore she heard an audible crunch.

Horror and nausea washed over her as she stared at her magic handiwork. She didn’t know about the first wolf, but the second was most definitely dead. Allie's breathing shallowed and she let out a sob. Her magic never hurt anyone before, and now she had killed one, possibly two, beings. As her vision began to blur, her mind snapped out of out.

“What am I doing? I can’t just stand here for others to find me. My scent is already lingering enough.”

With one last look, Allie bolted away from both the village and the hollow tree, but kept track of where she was. She might know the woods well, but she knew her brain was overloaded and fuzzy from her lack of magic, which now felt like a gapping open wound in her chest. Part of her wanted to turn around, help defend her home, but she knew that was stupid. Not only could she not fight, but now she had no magic. Plus, she was the only one who knew where the children were. If she got killed, no one would know where to find them.

With tears streaming down her face again, she prayed for her village and ran until her lungs began to burn and her legs threatened to give out. Witches were not any stronger or faster than normal humans, so all she could do was hope the raiding rogues wouldn’t bother going out into the woods this far.

Allie stopped when she reached a familiar tree. She knew it to be one of a handful in the woods her father had spelled in his adolescence, so he would never fall while climbing it. Being his children, that same magic recognized both her and Bryce. They spent many days as children hunting down these trees. Allie scrambled up, scraping her hands and arms as she did so, not having the energy to be more careful. When she was about halfway up the ancient maple, she hid herself in the foliage and waited. Allie didn't know what she waited for. Was it for help to arrive, for the attack to end? There was no way of knowing. She knew the attack on the village was not going to end well. People she knew, cared for, and loved would be gone forever, and she had done nothing to stop it. Guilt engulfed her for not returning to help fight the rogues or heal those fighting, but Allie knew she was useless, more so now, without magic. Magic, she didn’t even know, would ever recoup. Silently, tears fell down her face, and she covered her mouth so any living thing in the forest wouldn't hear her cry.