"Where is she?" Moist burst into the main hall in Elisha's Salt Kiss keep, anxious rather than angry. "I would speak with her myself."
"I'm afraid there's no time for that," Elisha replied briskly.
"No time?!" Moist's surprise sharpened to impatience.
"She has already fainted from the torture, and we must hasten," Elisha said, rising and moving past her. "Come."
"Whither are we bound?" Moist asked as she fell into step.
"Argan." Elisha's face was set, but not without purpose.
"And what shall we do in Argan?" Moist pressed, curiosity edging the impatience from her voice.
"Lucifer and Sheba abide there."
"Lucifer and Sheba are there?" Moist repeated, letting the news sink in.
"Surprising?" Elisha gave her a hard glare. "They were right under your nose and you had no idea."
"That can't be" Moist shook her head in disagreement. "The duke of Argan would not hesitate to report to me if their be any unusual happenings besides, Lucifer barely leaves the demon realm, why would he choose to dwell in Argan of all places, that is the very place the Spirit Kingdom once stood."
"Believe it or not Moist, I am very sure of what I am saying. We must seek them quickly. Delay will not serve our ends." Elisha's tone was grave, yet brisk as she led the way to Argan.
A lot has really happened under Moist's close attention that she could not give an account of. Hearing now that Lucifer had being within her reach all these while made her heart wretch in pain. She had always sought him, his attention and time but never got it. she even tried a lot of times to forcefully bridge the Demon Realm to reach him but she always failed. it was the most secured fortress among all the races' territories and his presence was ever evidently felt within it borders. That was how she drew to the conclusion that he barely leaves his territory, only for her to find out now that he been within her lands, protecting her nemesis, right within her reach.
It certainly sounded unbelievable but Elisha seemed too sure to be doubted.
Moist gave up for the moment, the wish to see Denna—Denna could wait. Her dislike of the witch was not a thing she had hidden: of the three First-Order witches, Denna was the most wily and deceitful, and Moist had never been fond of subtlety when she might have direct action.
Long ago, when Sheba fell and Moist sought dominion in the south, Denna had marshalled the witches and struck at her first. They willed very powerful strength and fought well. Moist had triumphed only by the help of the spirit race—mighty, loyal spirits whose strength had turned the tide.
Honestly, she was only lucky. Subduing the spirit race first was certainly her most wisest decision since she sought to rule all races. Their immense strength, power and resilience were definitely the major reasons her army and rulership still stood strong.
In the end Moist had prevailed, though scarcely; the witches melted back into shadow, leaving only faint traces that teased her whenever she searched. They preferred the dark; they were wise to avoid a direct clash with one who commanded two great races. They would bide their time until their Enchantress Supreme returned.
Elisha's capture of Denna, however, made one thing clear: Sheba's reincarnation was no mere whisper. To be taken now meant events moved apace. The witches grew impatient; their Enchantress Supreme would not be long in coming.
"No," Moist muttered under her breath. She would not let Sheba return to full strength. She had promised Elisha to spare Sheba harm and to help separate her from Lucifer. That was the actual condition for their alliance, but promises could be set aside if need be. Moist knew she was strong: two races already bowed to her, and if she won Lucifer, she might command demons as well. That strength would leave little to stop her from seizing all she desired—no Sheba, Lucifer at her side and on her bed, and an unchallenged rule over the Cullen. The thought made a sly smile cross her face. For now, she resolved to do what had to be done.
By their art of swift passing, Moist's portal control, they soon stood in Argan.
"Where are they hiding?" Moist asked, impatience softening into eagerness.
"Keep close," Elisha answered with a quiet confidence.
She had learned what Denna knew by a song of compulsion—no small feat, for Denna's mind was strong. Elisha felt the strain of it still, but she had spared enough strength for this search. All she had learned was that they lay in Argan, somewhere deep within the Eragas woods, likely shielded by potent demonic will which has kept then hidden.
Fortuitously, Moist's gifts excelled at reading such wills. She had become so attuned to Lucifer's nature that even the faintest tremor of him would not escape her.
"They must be near," Elisha said. "Keep sharp."
"I will cast my senses across the woods," Moist replied.
She spread her arms, and the air stirred as she sent her awareness outward. Presently she murmured, "There," and beckoned Elisha to follow.
They hastened until Moist came to a sudden stop. "Here," she said, a pleased smile brightening her face.
With a wave, the concealment fell away to reveal a handsome manor set among the trees.
"Lucifer has taken pains to hide her well," Elisha observed, admiring the house that now stood before them.
"He has indeed," Moist scoffed, but there was a playful edge to it.
"Is that a touch of jealousy I scent?" Elisha teased. "Fear not, Mother Moist. A few well-placed strikes and a firm blast, and he shall be set right—and perhaps all yours."
"He shall be mine," Moist said, clenching her fist—but it was more a determined grin than a threat. "All mine."
"All thine?" came a warm, familiar voice from the manor, "Just as I thought I was?"
Moist's smile faltered at the sight that met her.
"Aliadam?" she breathed.