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“It’s just the pod.”
“I’ve only been to the outskirts to meet with a group of silenced witches. I’d heard of this, but to see it is bizarre.”
“If you lived where the land tried to kill you on a daily basis, you’d hide too.”
“Fair point well made.”
The pod ahead buzzed with excited voices that grew as we drew near. Two witches stood at the entrance, one with a smile and the other more rigid.
“We’re here to gather the Yule log for the Solstice celebration,” Atlas said, his voice more formal and deep than his casual tone.
“Yes. They warned us you’d be coming,” the rigid man said, resting his hand on the door as if he wouldn’t let us in.
Warned by whom, I wasn’t sure.
But Atlas did not take the bait. Instead, he slid his hands into his pockets and grew three inches until he stared down at the man. “Good, then you’ll be quick about it.”
The man’s eyes bulged in reaction to the fierce tone. My heart skipped a beat, but for a completely different reason, as that voice reminded me of the growl in my ear this morning.
“Don’t bother with him,” the other witch said, pushing her brown hair over her shoulder. “He missed breakfast. I’ll go get the log for you. They’ve already done the blessing.”
I could sense Atlas’ relief. He would not want to perform magic in front of a coven, especially as a representative of the king during this fragile time. The woman didn’t enter the room behind her. She turned down the adjacent hall, moving in a light jog. While we waited, Atlas spent his time trying and succeeding at intimidating the guard with a stare down.
When the witch returned, she wished us a Happy Solstice, and we were on our way to the dreaded River Coven within the hour. I hadn’t been back since Levin. I would have been forced to return if another witch from this territory had been marked, but somehow, I was spared the mental torture. Still, as the sun dropped, the ground around us turning to icy ponds rather than pillowy snow, I couldn’t help the way my hands shook with fear.
Atlas reached over, pulling me toward him, and fuck if I didn’t let him. He was security when I needed it most. A companion I’d never really realized I was missing until now.
“If you see anything alarming, shout. He’s only one man.”
And he was, truly, but my brain told me otherwise. Nearing the swamps, carefully leading the sled along the banks, I counted the minutes until I could take another breath.
“We have to go over this ridge, and there should be another group that knows we’re coming. I’ve been here before. We’ll get the log and leave as fast as possible.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I trust you.”
11
Atlas leaned over and patted the top of my hand before tugging the reins back. Over the ridge and down a hill, a small village of cottages sat nestled together. The warm glow of the lanterns hanging outside their homes created an ambiance that would have looked safe to anyone none the wiser. Billowing puffs of smoke rose from chimneys, leaving the comforting scent of winter, of freshly burned wood and sawdust, in the air.
“Do you want to stay locked in the dome?” Atlas asked, his hand resting on the magical door.
“You couldn’t pay me enough money to sit out here by myself. I don’t even want to leave the horses.”
“Those four are Bastian’s personal stallions. They are fearless and smart. Should a threat come, they’ll be safer than both of us. Just remember the River Coven hasn’t taken the merge of the covens very well. They won’t be fans of ours.”
“Why can’t we cut down a tree and get the hell out of here?” I grumbled, knowing the answer before I asked it.
“The territory must give it freely. That’s how it works, I guess.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Let’s get this over with.”
The witch that answered the first cottage door slammed it in our faces. Unfazed, as with most things, Atlas simply trudged on to the next. By the third rejection, although he held that smile, his knuckles had gone white by his side, and I could tell his patience was wearing thin.
“Next year, I’m dragging Bash’s ass through this shit.”
The fourth and fifth doors never opened. Though we knocked, could hear the people inside, and see the lamps glowing, they didn’t bother with us. The rejection was taking the edge off the paranoia, but as we approached the last home, a strange sense of panic set in.
“Wait,” I said, grabbing Atlas’ fist before it could connect with the door. “This is the last house. We need to catch them.”
