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Evelyn gripped the bone material tighter, burying the reminder of her lost power and what that loss had cost her.
She headed northeast, tugged to her final destination of Kildara, a two-day journey on foot, if she kept a good pace. The small town known for its fast and agile horse breed wasn’t too far or too close to Callum. New people. Same secrets. Less questions. Not too long a journey and far enough that the chance of coming across someone from Callum would be slim.
The briny wind whipped and whirled over the hills, creating waves of green glinting in the sun. The rain was long gone now, Callum a mile behind her. The sun shone in a cloudless sky while Maxie led up ahead, her red and orange coat like a ball of fire scurrying across the green grass.
The wind barreled into Evelyn again. Her hair came loose from her low bun and twirled across her face. She sighed, turned back to Callum, and braced against the wind.
An hour ago, she’d gazed up at McKenna McCarthy’s dead body. Chills crawled across her skin. The stiffness of the dead always made Evelyn uneasy. She shut her eyes, trying to forget the sight of McKenna’s blue-hued skin. It had to be a trick of the light. Vampyrs did not cross the Sapphire Sea. Vampyrs resided in Sorin, the New World, not the Old World.
No one knew for certain how vampyrs came into existence. Demons had roamed since the times of Gods and Goddesses across both Torren and Sorin, creatures of darkness, and though vampyrs shared a likeness with them, they’d only emerged five centuries ago, at the same time the land in Sorin split, the Void cracking into existence. Some theorized vampyrs were humans who tried to gain power and bargained with the faeries. Others wondered if it had been witches corrupted by dark magic. A few blamed the faeries altogether, saying it was the ancient ones corrupted by their own trickery.
But there was always a constant in their origin story.
Witches’ bones.
Evelyn shivered, the wretchedness of the vampyrs crawling up her skin. No matter the hills she walked or the minutes that passed, she could not shake the horrific but blatant truth.
There was a chance a vampyr was in Callum.
Evelyn thought of Miss Patricia. The other barmaids who worked at the Runaway Radish. Mr. Finn and his fish shop. The baker who sold blueberry muffins from a wagon. The farmers who sold to weavers.
Goddess, the quaint, humble town of Callum had grown on Evelyn, and she could not imagine a vampyr wreaking its bloodthirsty wrath on them all. Guilt gripped her by the throat. Leaving Callum had seemed like a wise choice, but now it reminded her too much of running two years ago.
Letting down those she loved. Fracturing a hope her people thrived on. Abandoning her duty.
Believe, Evelyn, her father had told her, his last words before the vampyr used its claws to shred open his throat.
The sickening memory had Evelyn halting in her tracks. Back then, leaving had seemed right. She could not help her people, not without her flame. Sorin had werewolves defending the Void and witches defending the plains and Wall. Yet, Callum did not have those defenses. Dread bloomed in Evelyn’s belly. She doubted they knew how to stop a victim from turning into a vampyr.
Burning the victim’s body.
Maxie rejoined her at the base of the hill, threading through Evelyn’s legs and brushing her cheek against her high-waisted trousers. Her familiar’s bright yellow eyes would not meet Evelyn’s and instead stared down at Callum. Evelyn assessed those coming and going from the south entrance, boats sailing in from the horizon before storm season started, and white-as-snow gulls circling the perimeter. Evelyn sighed. She scratched Maxie behind the ears and supposed her familiar already sensed her decision.
Resolve twisted in her gut. She’d been running for so long she’d forgotten what it really meant to protect others. From her birth order to duty to the prophecy, being a protector mattered above all else. Unable to help against the vampyr, she could at least warn Callum of the threat they faced.
She’d find Commissioner Doyle, admit her suspicions about a vampyr, and advise them to burn the body.
And then finally leave Callum as she’d always planned.
“Let’s make this quick.” Evelyn sighed and turned back down the path. Using her innate magic, she shrank her staff to the size of a hairpin and slid it through her bun, out of sight and unknown as a magical weapon to others.
Maxie meowed in agreement, and together they traveled back to the coastal town.
Chapter Four
Evelyn
When Evelyn and Maxie reached the outskirts of town, it bustled with the same midday activity Evelyn had grown used to, but townsfolk appeared solemn, weary with their thoughts. McKenna’s death lingered in the air like a haunting ballad.
Maxie dashed out of sight, and Evelyn guessed her familiar had gone searching for a snack near the ships. Thanks to their linked souls and magic, Maxie would find her later as she always did.
Evelyn weaved through the harbor market, cutting across to reach the far side of the town to visit Commissioner Doyle’s office. A large horse lumbered across her path, and Evelyn grimaced and went around it. She detested horses, hating how tall they stood off the ground, hated how they reminded her of the last time she’d ridden one.
A horrible, wretched day.
She passed a young woman sitting with a little girl, weaving on a loom, and paused to watch them work. Chestnut-colored yarn depicted a willow tree, and after a few rows, the young woman turned over the next two rows to the little girl, nodding words of encouragement and directing her when she hesitated.
Evelyn’s chest swelled at the sight, remembering the times she’d sat next to Blair, her middle sister, and Mirella, her eldest. Witches possessed innate magic, a part of a witch as natural as breathing. Unique abilities outside of innate magic, like Evelyn’s flame, were considered bronntanas. Not all witches possessed one, but Evelyn’s sisters, like her, had their own. Blair wielded wind like their father while Mirella possessed healing. Unlike innate magic, bronntanas were like a muscle. They needed to be worked, trained, challenged, used, but also rested.
