Page 36 of The Endless One

“This is our chance to remake it. I warn you now, Inverholm is full of the infected. Nothing we can do will stop that. I wanted to change people’s minds by bringing goodness into this realm, but… I think now the only option is to save them. We will be the people who bring this kingdom back to its former glory, and we will be the ones to show them the value of a coven working for them.” She paused, and the dramatic effect of that hung in the air. “Or the ruin we can bring about if they do not work with us.”

He could feel those words among all of them. They would destroy the kingdom, and make it anew so that they would belong. It wasn’t going to be easy. They all had family and friends bound to this place and affected by Ajax’s spell.

One of the newer witches lifted her hand and asked, “How are we going to do that?”

“We’re going to make a sleeping spell,” Jessamine said. “I know some of you have read about them. But I want to make a bigger one. One that will blanket the entire kingdom in sleep. The infected won’t wake. None of them. We have a coven of fifteen witches, a god at our beck and call, and a gravesinger to add her magic into the mix. We can make the entire kingdom sleep and then walk among them without fear.”

Elric blinked a few times, letting the words settle into his mind before he finally nodded. “That could work.”

He could see Sybil shifting back and forth on her feet before she nodded as well. “We could make that happen, I think. There’s enough of us.”

“I don’t think I’d require additional sacrifices for it.” Even though his magic was sorely depleted, a sleeping spell wasn’t all that difficult. It would take all of their magic to do it over an entire kingdom, of course, but they would replenish his magic regularly. “It will have to be woven with a stasis spell. Sleeping for that long may kill them otherwise.”

Sybil chewed on her lip, looking over all of them. “I think we have enough magic here to do it if we wanted to. There are quite a few of us now. It’s a lot of area to cover, but I think it’s manageable. You’ve all learned how to cast a sleeping spell, right?”

A few of the witches were nodding. Some of them seemed concerned. But most of them had squared their shoulders and appeared far more ready than he would have expected. Before him was a coven just as he would have wished for all those ages ago, and that was something to be proud of.

Elric met Jessamine’s gaze and gave her the slightest nod. They could make this happen.

“Perfect,” Jessamine said. “If no one is going to argue, then I suggest we do it right now.”

A clatter echoed from the area of the ship where the captain and a few of his men were. The old man quickly made his way down the stairs to the deck where they stood. “Absolutely not. There will be no witchcraft on this ship.”

He watched Jessamine roll her eyes before she looked at the elderly gentleman who had shuttled them to and from Orenda. “If you don’t let us, then I will include you and your men in this sleeping spell. I can see the shore, Captain. I no longer need you or your men to get home.”

The man’s face went white with fear. “We aren’t bringing you to shore, ladies. There are infected all over that harbor. You can get off my ship here, or I’ll leave you to drown.”

Elric was surprised at the man’s force, but then again, he shouldn’t have been. People like this were always afraid of witches. Even if the captain had a soft spot for Agnes, she hadn’t always been a witch. Or at least, hadn’t been one with influence. He likely remembered her as she had been before. A beautiful, strong woman with an aim at being the most influential person in the Pleasure District. This man must have been so in love with the idea of her that he’d never noticed the rather odd collection she had in her home.

“Agnes,” Elric said, knowing that his tone was amused and yet incapable of making it seem less so. “What do you think your ancestor would say?”

Agnes’s great-grandmother had been a formidable woman. Frankly, he had been terrified of her. The strength that woman had in just her pinky was enough to kill a man. And it was unlikely that Agnes was all that different from her ancestor.

Agnes rolled her eyes at him. “I’d tell her whatever she wanted to do was a bad idea.”

“I would encourage her.”

“Of course you would. You’re incorrigible.”

But she still lifted a hand and flicked it. The spell that flung from her fingers was a simple one. It lifted a hammer behind the captain’s head and dropped it down hard. Not enough to kill him—they weren’t that heartless—but it would certainly leave a bump on his head and knock him out long enough for their spell to take place.

The other witches burst into movement. Soon enough, spells were flying in every direction. Webs of curses, gusts of wind, even sprays of water that came up from the sea itself until the fifteen crewmen were laid out on the deck as well, all of them unconscious.

He talked toward Jessamine, his arms still crossed over his chest as he looked at the work they had all done. “What an impressive coven you’ve built, gravesinger.”

“I do believe that was all your doing.”

He winked. “Oh, you’re right. It was.”

Turning to the witches, he looked them over one last time. Elric could peer into those reservoirs of magic that he had given them, and he could make sure they were prepared for any spell that he was going to ask them to do. Some of them were weaker than others, clearly the ones who had been practicing more had less magic. But as a whole, they were ready.

He stood in the center of all of them, lifted his arms, and started the spell.

The monotone old language started in a rhythm they could all join. A lulling sound, quiet and calm, that would spread across the sea. But first, he needed to build it.

Shadows connected him to all the witches in his coven, and he drew upon those connections as the women around him started to chant as well. They sent their intention to him and he magnified it.

“Sleep,” he murmured, weaving the word into the spell.