Beth felt the bonds of her contract loosen as Lefylyn was struck, the guardian’s hands tearing through his body life a hot knife through butter, hurling the fire-toad into the air like a child throwing an unwanted ragdoll. It was then she felt the bundle of power that kept Lefylyn to this realm unwind completely and the fire demon escaped this plane altogether, returning once more to the Other Place. Beth felt a twinge of pity at the fire spirits dismembered body – they say you shouldn’t get close to your demonic minions, yet Beth never could help but grow fond of them now and then.

Such thoughts where soon pushed from her mind however, as her eyes widened and traced the predatory progress of Morgan running towards the construct. Beth’s mouth opened, a wordless protest trying to escape from her lips before all sound was closed off by the tightening of her throat, Morgan’s leap and scurry causing Beth’s heart to freeze. She couldn’t help but draw comparisons between the stunning beauty and Lefylyn, two little creatures running along the leafy behemoth like fleas irritating a dog before being swatted. Not that she would voice either of these comparisons to Morgan herself, neither being particularly flattering.

What happened next was a blur, Morgan being thrown aside, Beth barely registering the hard won information coming from her lips, the beast lumbering forth towards them. Beth stood transfixed, her legs like stone as she watched it come forth, her mind blank as she tried to think of something. She was helpless, unable to summon even a feeble spirit of the air, no time to draw blood and call forth her lesser powers – not that they would be any help here against such a foe. She watched helpless, not even able to attempt to jump out the way as the Guardian came to destroy the trespassers of Walmart.

That was until it collided with solid air and Beth turned to see Emmaline’s face set in determination. Her athamae raised and Beth could sense the workings of her Craft – cold, precise, almost clinical in contrast to her own magic. As the German professor was flung forwards by the own momentum of her spell it broke the transfixion that held Beth, moving her heavy limbs into motion as she scrambled forward, offering help unneeded as Emma got herself up before offering her assessment of the situation.

“Your right …” Beth said, swallowing in an attempt to wet her dry throat. Hey eyes flickered over to Morgan, reluctant to leave her. Memories swimming forth of a time long past, another lifetime almost, certainly a different Beth and the debt owed. But she could do nothing for her demon friend here, she needed to find the stone. She grabbed her bag, sliding it over her shoulder, “I’m going to find the stone and break it – if I can. It will likely get very pissed if I’m successful, but  it will be a damn sight easier to kill.”

She pulled her [i]Gloine nan Druidh[/i] or Adder Stone, from a pouch in her bag, looking through the hole in the triangular glass rock, gazing into the Astral Plane. She could see the coils of power wrapped tightly around the Guardian, see them spread out through the ground and into the earth, rooting itself and drawing forth power. Focusing harder, she could make out the faint tendrils of power that hung in the air, which she followed towards the garden centre. Nodding to herself, she began to run towards the source. Looking over her shoulder, she spared one last look at her companions, feeling a twinge of guilt at leaving them there, but pushed it aside. She wanted to help them, and the best way of doing that was breaking the stone.

[b][center]~ * ~[/center][/b]

Beth had always found Walmarts to be strange, very American places. It seemed almost sacrilege for the variety and activity befitting a bazaar or marketplace to be confined and industrialised by such a corporate venture. However, as she made her way through the leafy foliage of the garden centre she had to admit, she was a little impressed. It was big and if she closed her eyes she could imagine she was in some far off jungle in distant lands.

However her eyes were not closed, there were fixed looking through her Adder Stone, following the tendrils of power until she located the stone, a delicately carved rose hovering a few feet above the intricate circle inscribed on the floor. She wrinkled her nose – it had been drawn in blood, something considered a bit [i]vulgar[/i] by her coven. Looking around, she noticed something that looked like it had been thrown aside, a wand of what she suspected was runes of considerable power etched onto it. Not the work of an amateur, although to be thrown aside so carelessly …. It was strange, yet fortunate. She grabbed a plain, silver knife from her bag, tucking the wand under her shoulder.  

Beth placed the knife on her palm, slicing across her skin which was accompanied by a familiar pain, before doing the same with the other. This was the essence of blood magic – no magic came without sacrifice, to break the barrier of your skin and expose yourself to the world, allowing magic to flow within and out.  Emmaline was right – this was her area of expertise, but it was more than that. This was [i]her[/i] magic. The legacy left behind by the druids, their scattered wisdom preserved against fire and blade by the Covens of her homeland. Dipping the wand in her blood, she etched a few new rune onto the circle – inscribing her own name in Ogham. This was her way in. 

She placed her hand upon the stone, allowing her blood to trickle over the smooth, black stone, infusing it with her power. She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to drift back the millennia to a time where robed men stood in oak groves adorned with mistletoe, with silver blades staining the white snow with scarlet blood, with the cycle of birth and death was recreated on top of a stone altar. Beth’s head leaned back, her chin raised as her eyelids snapped open - her eyes rolling back into her head. Her body jumped as she felt a surge of power hit her body like a truck, the witch’s legs trembling as she felt a metallic taste tinge her mouth, sparks of power crackling between her lips as she forced words out through the sheer raw power absorbed within the stone. 

[i]“Flesh of my flesh, kin of my kin,
I enter this covenant by broken skin,
Spirit evoked within this shrine,
My blood I offer, my power I entwine.”[/i]

Beth’s body trembled as her mind delved deeper into the maelstrom of blue light and patterns, both familiar and alien as she carefully wove her own magic within the chaos. Normally she would never attempt something like this – binding her own magic with an unknown enemy’s. It left such a personal mark with someone with ill intent, but with the immediacy of the situation she could think of little else.

Deeper and deeper she burrowed into the codex of the object, catching each loose tendril of magical energy and linking it with her own. If anyone was to walk in on her physical body, they would have witnessed the Scottish witch’s body crackling with magical energy, her hair standing on end. They would have seen the white of the witch’s tank top stained red as she released a scream – blood pouring from a slashed opening that tore across her back. Beth’s mind grew fuzzy with the pain – she had underestimated her foe – or perhaps foes. They had noticed she was there and had the power to attack her and with her magic so intertwined with their own there was little she could do to defend herself except to bear with the pain and hurry up. At last, as another wound cut deep across her arm, her shoulder burning with agony as a burn was seared into it, she had finished. 

[i]“This brotherhood I disband,
Relinquish all vessels at our command –“[/i]

Beth was thrown back with such force she felt a crack of the garden centre’s glass walls as she was thrown against it. Sliding down, bloodied and bruised, she watched to  see what would happen within to the stone that sat within the circle.