The Vampire & Her Witch

”We have a plan that I think will make the best use of each of our skills,” Aspakos said, gesturing to one of the slate boards sitting nearest to Hauke that depicted an intricate series of chains wrapped around the young Frost Walker’s horn.

”We have two plans, if the Mother of Trees is willing to hear me out,” Erkembalt said. ”But it depends entirely on her ability to regrow a severed horn. I’ve been told that witches possess a unique magic that can regrow...”

”No,” Ashlynn said, immediately putting a stop to the artificer’s train of thought without letting him finish his sentence. ”I do know the magic that you speak of, but the costs to use it are far beyond what anyone should be asked to pay. Unless you’re willing to sever your tail and blind your eyes to pay the cost, you should forget any notion of solving this problem by severing his horn,” she said firmly, giving the artificer a very pointed look until he nodded in understanding.

”As I was saying,” Aspakos said, placing a reassuring taloned hand on Hauke’s shoulder when he noticed the bright white sheen on the young Frost Walker’s horn. ”We have a plan that will make the best use of each of our skills.”

”The curse that binds Hauke is like a knot tied with seven strands,” the feathered sorcerer explained, tapping on the diagram. ”Each strand binds one of the core magics that comprise Frost Walker sorcery, and they have been pulled together into a braided knot with strands passing over and under each other in an intricate pattern that’s held under constant tension.”

”The tension is the hard part, and it’s why I keep suggesting, er, that is,” Erkembalt stammered when he felt the dark look from both Ashlynn and Aspakos. ”The tension has to be released gradually, or the backlash of severing one of the chains binding him may burn out his ability to use that form of magic. If enough of them rebound, then even if he keeps his horn, it will become half dead, and he’ll be no different than a goat when it comes to using his horn for sorcery.”

”You could be kinder, Friend Erkembalt,” Aspakos said, giving Hauke another reassuring squeeze. ”But that is the gist of it. In order to untie this knot, we have to sever each strand multiple times, working from the tip of his horn toward the base, severing them in sequence to release the tension until we can cut away the last of it.”

”I’ll pull at the web of chains,” Erkembalt said, waving his sharply pointed claws, revealing that each of them had been sheathed in an intricately carved silver blade, turning simple claws into precise surgical instruments with enough sharpness to tear through even the most stubborn curses. ”All I can do is create a little space between the horn and the binding curse, the rest is up to you.”

”I’ll guide the working,” Aspakos said. ”My eyes are keen, and these days, I can see the non-physical world better than I can perceive the physical world. I’ll tell you where to cut and when, guiding you through every step of the process.”

”Then all I need to do is cut where you tell me to, and we can release Hauke from his bindings,” Ashlynn said, smiling at the simplicity of her role. Amahle had once compared the use of a Severing Knife to the use of a seamripper, pulling out stitches and allowing a seamstress to work backwards to correct a mistake. Now, it felt like she would be doing exactly as her big sister had described, carefully cutting through the magic that held Hauke captive.

”Will this be painful for Hauke?” Ashlynn asked as she examined the notes on the slate board. Some of the notations were things she recognized after studying with Amahle in the Briar, but much of it was far too complex, referencing laws and theories that she had never heard of, much less studied enough to make sense of.

”I could apply soothing magic to ease him to sleep,” she offered, unable to discern whether it would be beneficial or not from her study of the notes. ”Or I could apply gentle healing magic if you feel like this will place undue strain on his body.”

”I had assumed that he’d want to be awake,” Erkembalt said, frowning at Ashlynn’s offer as he tried to decide whether or not Ashlynn’s witchcraft would interfere with the process. ”If Hauke can signal to us how he feels during the process,” he mused. ”Then I would have better notes about how to use this process in the future. It’s a rare opportunity to...”

”Please, your Dominion,” Aspakos said quickly. ”If you can ease Hauke to sleep, I’m sure he would experience much less distress,” he said, giving his old friend a withering look. ”And I’m sure that with you here, he’ll rest well knowing that you’ll safeguard his horn and ensure that no harm comes to it during this process.”

”I agree,” Ashlynn said, resolving to never again involve Erkembalt with a living patient if she had any other choices. Clearly, the man had spent far too long fussing over lifeless objects to have much consideration for the feelings of the people who struggled with curses that only he could break. Or perhaps, if the artificer spent more time with Aspakos, he could be trusted around people again in a few years time.

”Rest well, my friend,” Ashlynn said, raising a hand that gleamed with a brilliant emerald aura. ”When you wake, we’ll have a proper conversation. I’m sure you have many things on your mind, but for right now, the only thing you should concern yourself with is recovering from this curse. So sleep now and we’ll talk soon...”

Though Hauke’s eyes remained glassy and unfocused, within a few minutes his breathing became slow and steady, his chest moving up and down with the regular motions of deep, dreamless sleep.

”Now,” Ashlynn said, drawing the Severing Knife from its sheath at her waist. ”Tell me where I should begin.”