Morgana's armies stretched in every direction, with daka forming the front line. They stood as a living wall of poison and teeth, a dark green wave of violence ready to be unleashed. Behind them, more witches sat mounted atop even more. There had to be nearly a thousand, all positioned to strike first, to overwhelm and tear apart the bulk of our forces.
With the ward still preventing us from crossing, we couldn’t advance, and once the daka hit, it wouldn’t matter. We had all taken the antidote, but it would only work for so long. Their poison would engulf the field, and my people’s power would be stripped away, leaving steel as their only defense.
And what good was steel against monsters?
My flames could only do so much and once our armies merged with theirs, I couldn’t risk my flames harming my people. It’s why I would advance first and take out as many daka as I could before charring a path to get toher.
Randy approached from my left, and I cut him a glance.
“Jaxon?”
“Still no sign of him, Your Majesty.”
I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach and ran my hands down my face, a sense of unease creeping into my bones.He will be okay, he has to be okay.I would fight the damn Fates themselves if they took him away from me.
A cough sounded, and we turned to see Gunnar guiding a limping, white-haired elderly woman toward us. She looked familiar, but I couldn't recall from where. What was she doing here? She should be in a village, with the children and the other elders. I scanned her wrinkled face and met her bright yellow eyes. They matched her cracked, broken teeth, and with chilling recognition, I realized who she was: the Agur healer from Moonhollow.
“Hello, Your Majesty, it's wonderful to see you again.” She attempted a bow, but Gunnar caught her, stopping her from dipping too low for fear she might topple over and fall.
“Uh—yes. I wish it were under better circumstances, much like the last time. What can I do for you… ?” My words trailed off as I realized I never learned her name, and I silently cursed myself for not learning it after what she had done for Dedra.
The witch gave me a wicked smile, her lips lopsided as she said, “Seraphina, dear. It’s no worry. I didn’t give you my name for a reason. Names are important things, you know.”
“Seraphina,” I said, nodding. “They are indeed.”
I didn’t really think so, but who was I to argue with an old, scary witch lady? “What can I do for you, Seraphina?”
“Well, you can start by not calling me an old, scary witch lady.”
My back stiffened.How did she?My attention went to her bright yellow eyes, but Gunnar interrupted my thoughts bycutting in. “She said she needed an audience with you. That she knows certain magic we do not. That most do not remember.”
“That no one remembers,” the old woman corrected, hitting Gunnar on the arm. “Besides her.” Seraphina’s gaze shot past me as she raised a shaky finger, and I turned, an awareness rippling through me as I shifted my eyes to those of my beast form, my vision honing in on multiple figures appearing on top of a hillside.
Morgana came into view, her short, petite frame swallowed by her billowing purple cloak. Gormick, Zara’s father, was next to her, armed and ready for battle. That witch from Niverrian, Freya, was to his right and on the other side of Morgana was Zara.
Pain splintered through my chest at the sight of her. She was covered in blood, so much blood that it made my insides churn. I had sent her there defenseless. She was hurt because of me, because I listened to the damned Fates and left that charm on.
Guilt bloomed, as rage consumed me.I did this.
I started to pull on my magic to remove that cursed charm, but Seraphina spoke again from behind me.
“That needs to stay on, boy,” she hissed, and my will faltered, my magic pausing. “Look at her more closely. She is fine.”
I focused on Zara and realized she was wiping the blood off with a cloth, her gaze fixed toward me as she threw it to the ground. My magic winked, but how did this frail old witch see that far?
“If you keep insulting me, I will leave you to your demise,” Seraphina spat, and I spun back around to face her again, gazenarrowing. There was no mistaking it this time. She had just read my thoughts. The only being I knew that could read minds was a Fate. I stared into her yellow gaze, and found a small ember of blue light glowing underneath the yellow.
“You are a Fate.”
Gunnar jumped away from the old woman, his eyes going wide as he went to his knees.
“Of course I am. Get up, you fool. We do not have time for this,” Seraphina’s eyes flashed a bright blue before muting to their usual yellow. Gunnar blanched, and I leaned down to help him back onto his feet.
“Why are you here, Seraphina? Where is Caelan?”
Her lips curled upward over her teeth, and her nose scrunched as if I had offended her.
“I told you I am here to help. My brother has his own thread to cut,” she hissed, and my head ached from having to constantly figure out what they were talking about.
