Chapter 7

Wendy looked up from the magic book, as Polly, humming, stirred the pot.

There was a part of her, a small part, that realized she should be helping with dinner. Helping set up camp. After all, it was the right thing to do, the fair thing to do.

However, it was also the non-Witch thing to do.

Wendy had busted her butt in the service of her Mistress. She had scrubbed the walls, scrubbed the floors, scrubbed the clothing, scrubbed the dirty pots and pans. Basically, her magical training had consisted of 99% slave labor. Could she be blamed, now, for not wanting to do that kind of crap? She would, naturally, if it was needed. But, Polly was cooking, the wood was collected...

... and, well, she did need to get some reading in while there was still light.

The magic books Polly had given her were way beyond Wendy's comprehension. They assumed skills and knowledge she had not acquired while scrubbing. Each page held not just the gestures and words, but seemed to be filled with magic themselves. The volumes practically hummed in her hand. She had tried to memorize a few of the spells, but had found it virtually impossible. They were too ... large, almost, overflowing her mind. No wonder it had been necessary to empty Jack's to make room. Wendy had, after two days, managed to commit one to memory, a female variation on the spell she had used to escape with Jack. With it, she could teleport away from danger. She would also have no control over where she ended up, but the description promised the landing spot would be safe. It might be a safe spot on an empty island with no hope of rescue, but she'd be safe. A spell to save for a last resort, if there ever was one.

Looking down at the current volume, Wendy decided there wasn't much more to get out of it for now. For the most part, she was just getting a sense of what was in there. Placing bookmarks for spells she might need. The books themselves were very helpful in this regard. Custom bound by Polly's Master (mate, boyfriend, whatever), each volume had a different feel. It was easy to grab the right one when reaching into the travel pouch he also seemed to have made. A very resourceful man, this Timothy. He obviously would have made an excellent teacher, if Wizards could teach Witches. Closing the book, she replaced it in the satchel, grabbing for the next one.

"No, no! Not like that!"

Her eyes flicked up. Sam was attempting, with limited success it looked like, to teach Jack to use a sword. Or, at least, how to bang long sticks together. Kids playing, in other words. She looked down at the current book.

It was different than the others. Smaller. Heavier. Wendy frowned. She somehow had missed this one on her earlier explorations of the bag. It had a metal clasp, holding the volume closed. The fact none of the others had meant ... what? Hefting it in her hand, the clasp suddenly sprung, brown covers falling open, half the pages following each side.

Inside, she saw a thin, silver locket.

Wendy ... considered it. It was cheap looking, the kind of thing a merchant would hang out on top of the counter, not hide below where thieving fingers couldn't reach. Yet, it was in a book of magic. Her expression became wary.

"Polly?"

The woman looked over. Wendy was watching, saw the expression of sorrow, despair flash over Polly's face. Then it was gone, replaced by a smile, which, though familiar, now had hidden depths. Polly left the pot boiling over the fire, coming to kneel down before the witch.

"This ... this book, you should stay away from it. For awhile, at least." Wendy just stared at her. Polly swallowed, licking her lips. Her expression became more pleading. "Please?"

Wendy glanced back down at the locket. The power ... she was in no way ready for this book. Nodding, she closed the volume. Polly visibly relaxed, smiling a true smile.

"Thank you. Timothy used that book for ... special rituals."

Wendy nodded. She would stay away from it ... for now.

"No, no! Keep your legs apart!"

Sam walked over and stood before Jack. With a whack, she hit the inside of his left leg with her wooden sword. His leg shifted, widening his stance.

"A bit more." Another light whack resulted in another inch. Stepping back and looking him up and down, she nodded. "Good. You want to give yourself as sturdy a frame as possible. Especially when you're on defense."

Jack smiled. She was so cute when she was serious. A slight blush touched her cheek, quickly followed by a hardening of her expression. Jack just grinned more.

"Oh, I'm going to wipe that grin right off your face." She backed up about five feet, moving into the same attack stance she had shown him not long before. "Get ready."

Jack adjusted his grip. The stick wasn't that comfortable, which wasn't surprising. They had found two reasonably straight branches, cutting off the extra and lashing a short cross piece for the guard. There was a knot, right under his thumb, which was starting to annoy him. It had dug in during the last two attacks, not breaking the skin, but leaving a nice indentation. Maybe after dinner he could carve...

"Defend!"

She came at him, sword coming in from his right. Silently grunting, Jack got his sword up. Sam hit hard, the crack of sticks colliding followed by his hands stinging like hell. She wasn't done, though. Following through, her sword came off of his as she lowered herself and spun. The momentum carried her weapon right into the back of his leg.

"And you're dead!"

Jack jumped away, spinning himself to face her. Sam just grinned.

"Watch the follow through. Most fights are only going to last one or two swings. Make sure your second swing gets there first!"

The four sat around the campfire, dinner digesting. It had been another meatless stew. Sam missed meat. Oh, sure, she hadn't gone without it for that long, but she was young. It was a larger fraction of her life than if she was old like Dad. She couldn't wait until he brought home a nice large buck, or a wild boar. Then, there would be some good feasting!

Wendy sat across from her, looking a bit worried. Now, what could be worrying little Miss Witch?

"Problem, Wendy?"

Sam felt Jack's hand on her knee. He was warning her to play nice, most likely. Oh, she would. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to play. Wendy regarded her seriously.

"I'm just worried about your father. I don't like him being alone like this."

The fact that Sam felt the same way almost made her want to lash out at the girl. After all, who was she to worry about Dad? Jack's hand squeezed, calming her. Sam took in a deep breath ... and released it.

"He'll be fine. He was always going out hunting, usually with some of the other guards, but also alone if Mom needed something special for the table. He'd be gone for days, as you don't find much close to the city." Sam paused, looking out past Jack into the darkness. She pursed her lips. "To be honest, I hope he gets far enough from this town that's nearby to find some game. I haven't even seen much small stuff, and that's worrying." A finger traced on the back of her hand. She listened, then nodded. "There's not even any frogs out by the stream."

"There are crickets, though," Polly said, a half smile on her face. "Maybe you two should go hunting."

"I'll catch them, if you cook and eat them!"

Wendy suddenly stood. She looked down at Polly, then nervously at Sam. Sam's expression hardened.

"What?"

"Well..." Wendy seemed to be talking herself into something. "What if ... I made things easier for Gary?" Sam's eyes widened, Wendy going on before she could speak. "There's a spell I saw. It brings a game animal to the hunter, and lets him kill it easily. We can make sure Gary doesn't come home empty handed."

"He wouldn't, anyway!" Sam was indignant. "Dad's a damned good hunter!"

"Now, Sis..."

"Don't 'Sis' me, she just insulted Dad!" Jack's hand squeezed hard. She glanced at him. He ... she took another deep, calming breath, then looked back to Wendy. "Sorry, sorry. It's just ... sorry." Wendy nodded.

"I know."

Sam thought. The girl did have a thing for her father, and him for her. She wasn't going to do anything foolish regarding him. And, there was something strange going on...

"Ok. Do it."

Wendy stepped around the fire.

"I need Jack for this..."

Wendy's teacher would have punched her hard in the head if she had seen Wendy like this. A witch was never, ever, to act subservient. NEVER place themselves below another. Yet, here she was, kneeling before a sitting Jack, new dress getting dirty as she pulled his pants down and pulled out his cock.

Diplomacy. That was the key. That she was Mistress to both Sam's sister and ... playmate, and lover to her father, was not something to be lorded over the girl at this time and place. Later, once Wendy was more secure, then certainly. But, not now. She placed a finger on her slave's member.

"This won't hurt him, Samantha."

That wasn't what the girl was worried about, most likely, given where her eyes were focused, but that was another reason Wendy was doing this. Yes, she honestly did want to help Gary. But she also had to impress on the child before her that SHE, Wendy, had the only claim on Jack that mattered. She had to understand, and accept. Things would go much easier after that.

"Rosnac."

He became hard before her, hot, throbbing. Wendy gripped it, as the blueness of male magic filled her eyes. The spells quickly followed. They rushed by her eyes, much too fast. Gritting her teeth, she focused. They slowed. Now, then. The one she wanted was near the middle. Yes ... there. That one.

"Sam, get me one of Gary's arrows."

The girl paused a moment, hand holding Jack's, eyes focused on the first male she had seen besides her father, then she moved towards the wagon. There were extra arrows there, Wendy knew. Gary hadn't planned on fighting off an army or anything, and could always retrieve or repair arrows if he ran short. The girl was back quickly, holding one of his custom made projectiles.

"Hold it in your hand, just like that." Wendy checked the spell again, making sure, then with her left hand drew a rune in the air around the arrowhead, ending by touching the point. "Przyniesc zabic."

Semen exploded from Jack, shooting in the air. The blue life-force sparkled inside, outshining the fire behind her. It gathered in a swirling mass above their heads, as if contemplating their next move. A small strand reached out to touch the arrow's tip, startling Sam. The rest shot out into the forest.

Jack was now limp in Wendy's hand. She released him. His body was also limp, but he came to quick enough to stay upright. Wendy watched as his mind returned, eyes focusing on her.

Those eyes would never understand, or accept.

Sam walked slowly through the dark forest, the babble of the stream her guide. She knew he had come this way, was, in fact, probably in the same spot. It's not that Jack was predictable. More ... it was that there were few places he would go where he knew she would find him.

If he wanted to be found.

She paused, rolled up blanket almost slipping from her grip. Jack ... might want to be alone. She could be reading the signs all wrong. After this evening, he might not want to be with her.

She wanted to be with him, though. More than ever. And, if not tonight, with Dad gone, the others in bed, and the stars shining, then when? Telling herself that she would go, if sent away, Sam continued on.

Sam found him, not on the bank of the river, but on a flat grassy spot not far from a large maple tree. He was laying on his back, eyes on the stars. He was still wearing the pants and shirt they had bought for him, both in need of a good wash. So was he, most likely, not that she was any different. Travel did not leave one squeaky clean. Pausing near him, Sam warred with herself. Part of her wanted to just lie down next to him. Talk to Jack, comfort him. Kiss, caress...

Biting her lower lip, she chose the other option. As his blond covered head swung towards her, Sam dropped the blanket and pulled her shirt over her head. She could see, or think she saw, his blue eyes widen as she stood exposed to a boy for the first time. She was not much, she knew. Thin, with small breasts, and equally small nipples. Nothing compared to her sister, let alone the comically large Wendy. The air was still warm, but she felt her nipples harden regardless. Quickly, while she had the nerve, Sam undid her rope belt. Trousers and under shorts dropped. She stepped forward out of them, the feel of grass on her bare feet somehow exotic now that the rest of her was bare as well. Without a word, she lay herself down next to Jack.

As his warm body pressed against hers, all fear and doubt left Sam. She pulled herself half on top of him, one bare leg pressing between his, lips seeking their mates. She felt his hands come up, running over her back, arms, ass, before one moved around to cup a breast. She groaned, turning it into a whimper as his covered leg rose and pressed against her sex. She broke their kiss, forehead pressing against his.

"Oh, Jack..." One hand snaked its way down his body, between his legs, searching for what she desired most...

Sam felt no hardness. No swell of his manhood. Raising her head, she looked at Jack's face in surprise. He closed his eyes, turning away, face full of embarrassment and shame.

The witch.

She had drained him. Completely. Taken from Jack that which Sam desired.

Well.

"It's OK, my love." Sam gently kissed his cheek, then rubbed her own against it. "Let me see if I can undo her evil." He turned back to her, questioningly. Eyes glowing, she kissed his nose, then lips. Moving so she straddled him on all fours, she began kissing her way down his body. As she passed his own breasts she pulled his shirt up, revealing white, perfect skin. He tasted of sweat, dust, maleness, as she made her way down. She paused at his belly button, giggling as its existence, as if it proved he was human and not some god or magical being. Her hands undid his belt, pulling his pants down enough to reveal her goal.

His member was soft, maybe two inches long, a stubby mushroom nestled in a thin patch of light yellow hair. Two fleshy eggs hung beneath it. Sam had seen her father before, both in this state and the other, but never had she felt ... well, she couldn't even attempt to describe it. Her heart was beating loudly in her head, her breasts hard, aching, the slit between her legs seeming to throb. With that, there was also anger. Anger at the Witch. At the thought someone else dared to steal what should be freely given. Bending down, Sam lightly kissed Jack's cock.

She began with the tip, lips lightly touching the curved head. Her kisses were light, tender. She moved slowly over the head, down the shaft, lifting it with her small hand so she could move to the bottom. It stayed soft. After a few minutes, Sam added a flick of her tongue to her kisses, lightly licking the warm flesh. The licks became longer. She nibbled, a bit, on the edge of the mushroom head, taking her time, surprised at how much she enjoyed it. Jack's hands were in her hair, playing with her scalp. Her lips moved to the notch at the bottom of the head, giving it a light flick of her tongue.

Sam felt a slight movement in him.

Not daring to hope, she focused on that spot, licking, nibbling. The shaft began to gain shape, slowly growing. Sam slipped her lips over the entire head, taking it into her mouth, tongue bathing the bottom. She could feel the entire cock growing, straightening, becoming harder. Jack's hands were gripping her head, his entire body trembling.

The witch had lost.

Sam knelt above Jack, his hard manhood touching her opening. Their eyes were locked, Sam completely lost in his gaze. She loved him. Would protect him. Care for him. Be his wife, his lover, his everything. All she had to do was lower herself, and they would be joined. Forever. One of Jack's hands, trembling, came up, finger touching her belly. It traced a heart.