Ten minutes later.
Hawk returned to the living room, freshly showered and dressed in a Winnie-the-Pooh pajama set Gwen had bought him.
The Hell Witch still stood before the fireplace, blue flames flickering. She inclined her head gratefully.
"Thank you, Hawk," she said.
And then the other souls inside her spoke up in chorus.
"You're a good man."
"Not like the ones who burned us."
"You—"
"Stop."
Hawk raised a hand quickly. For some reason, though he'd only met her twice, every time those overlapping voices spoke it felt like he was listening to a comedy routine.
He cut straight to the point. "I thought all dimensional gateways were sealed right now?"
The Hell Witch nodded, explaining.
"When Yggdrasil's Nine Realms converged, the energy storm it created threatened to assimilate dimensional planes. To us, dimensional beings, that power could cause grave injury. We all retreated before it struck."
"So Hell's gate has reopened?"
"No."
"Then how—"
"We sensed Carrie's awakening. A witch's magic only stirs under extreme trauma. Without guidance, she could have died from the backlash—or worse, been branded an outcast and burned, just like us. Carrie is our descendant. One of us, Emma, burned her soul to open a passage so we could reach you."
Hawk's brow furrowed. No wonder one of the voices was missing.
"But why not just go to her yourselves?"
"We cannot leave New York," the Hell Witch replied. "When we escaped from Hell, the Masters of the Mystic Arts confronted us. Because I was once a Salem witch, and Salem once had dealings with the Ancient One, we were granted asylum here—on one condition: we never leave New York, unless the Osborn bloodline departs as well, and we never harm innocents."
Hawk nodded slowly. Of course. New York housed one of the three great Sanctums. If the witches had lingered under their noses, it had to be with permission. Politics—even in the supernatural world, no one escaped it.
He sighed. "So you don't know when Hell's gate will open again?"
"No. But it won't be long. The storm is fading."
Then she added quietly, "We saw your sister."
Hawk's head snapped up. "Anya?"
"Yes."
His voice trembled. "How is she?"
Instead of answering, the Hell Witch spread her hands. Blue fire shimmered and shaped itself into an image. A young woman appeared, older now, taller, her hair longer.
Anya.
Hawk's eyes shook, then softened. "She's grown."
The Hell Witch lowered her hands. "Hell is the realm of the dead. Beyond that, it is no different from Earth."
"Where did you see her?"
"In Mephisto's palace. We begged him to open a gate. He refused. But as we left, we saw her there."
Relief washed over Hawk. So Mephisto hadn't lied—his sister was under his care.
Then the Witch said softly, "Why not ask her yourself?"
Hawk's heart lurched. The Witch began chanting. Hawk sensed a door opening—dark, cold, reeking of death.
From it stepped a confused soul.
White dress. Wavy hair.
Anya.
Her dazed eyes met Hawk's. Then recognition blazed, and she cried out, "Brother!"
She tried to run to him, and Hawk's arms opened instinctively. But she faltered at the threshold, unable to cross. Close—so close it hurt.
The Witch's voice was solemn. "This is all Emma's sacrifice could buy. One minute. Then she must return, or the wraiths outside the gate will devour her."
Hawk swallowed hard, nodding. He turned back to his sister. "Anya, wait for me. I'll come for you. Soon."
Tears streamed down her face, but she smiled. "I know. The Master told me—if he doesn't take care of me, my brother will tear off his head and use it as a wine cup. My brother is the strongest in the world."
Hawk laughed through his tears. "That's right. So believe me—I'll bring you home."
Anya nodded firmly.
Then the gate shut with a thunderous crash. Anya vanished, dragged back before the lurking spirits could strike.
The Hell Witch staggered, her flames dim. "Emma's power is gone."
"Thank you," Hawk said quietly, bowing his head. "I owe you a debt."
He didn't waste words. Debts, to him, were sacred.
At that moment, Gwen reappeared from upstairs with Carrie, freshly bathed, clean, and wearing one of Gwen's spare pajamas. Her damp hair framed her young face.
Hawk glanced at the girl, then turned back to the Witch. "You asked me to take her. How do you want her cared for?"
"We cannot teach her. We belong to Hell now. Please… find her a teacher. A witch who can guide her through the basics. When her power stabilizes, Salem's legacy will awaken within her."
Hawk thought for a moment, then nodded. "I'll handle it."
"Thank you."
…
(End of Chapter)
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