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“She’s being held within the Ruins of Garnath.”
Khalstorm briefly squeezed his eyes shut at the confirmation, his jaw tightening painfully.
At the mention of Garnath, Orik and Rayu looked at him in shock. He tried to make his expression passive but felt angry veins bulging in his forehead.
Unaware of the new tension, Xanthia continued, “I believe she is imprisoned in Garnath’s vast dungeons.”
Khalstorm knew it well. He used to explore Garnath’s dungeons and catacombs as a curious child. A maze of identical and purposefully confounding corridors that led to dead ends, dark catacombs, and dangerous pitfalls. His father had built the palace of Garnath to be as labyrinthine as possible, designed to confuse potential invaders.
A good idea in theory . . . when one didn’t first invite the invaders to have a good look around.
He’d always suspected the witches had settled there in the aftermath of Garnath’s destruction. Now he knew it to be true. The thought of them roaming the halls of his once beloved home sent renewed fury through his blood.
“How far is Garnath from here?” Jessie asked.
Orik answered, “It’s at the northern edge of the white forest, off the coast of the Berius ocean, a two-day journey on foot.”
“And if we fly?”
“A matter of hours. But if the place is rumored to be infested with witches, we would no’ want to declare our arrival with an army of dragons on the horizon.”
Jessie nodded decidedly. “Then we hike in under the cover of the forest.”
“Hold up,” Rayu strongly interjected. “No one has agreed to anything yet. “This could be a trap.” He gave Xanthia an accusatory glance. “In fact, I’d wager on it.”
“I give you my word,” Xanthia replied earnestly. “I only want to rescue my sister.”
“The word of a witch,” Rayu sneered.
“Rayu,” Jessie gently scolded. “That’s enough.” She faced Xanthia. “I’m more than happy to help if it means getting this hex off me.”
Xanthia shot her a pitying glance. “Unfortunately, Jessie, since Rathmort is tracking you through that spell, you wouldn’t be able to join us. He’d sense you coming miles away.”
Jessie scowled once more at her mark.
Xanthia added, “I would attempt to rescue her myself, but the combined forces of Rathmort and my mother are too powerful for me alone. Not to mention the rest of their coven.”
Khalstorm was struck with the realization of who Xanthia truly was. He ground his teeth together, finally seeing the resemblance that had eluded him all this time. Though Elora’s hair was inky black and Xanthia’s was moonlight white, they had the same shape and color to their eyes. “You’re a daughter of Elora Songbird?” That heartless witch deserved his wrath as much as Celeste did, perhaps more. Did Xanthia as well?
“I am,” she admitted. “But I am not like my mother. When Celeste and I were children, our father was the leader of our coven. He was a kind man who believed in pure, good magic. But when he died, Rathmort claimed control and my mother was more than happy to relinquish authority to him. Together, he and my mother turned us toward darker magic. The forbidden kind. I was old enough to recognize the danger they posed, the dark direction they were leading us, but Celeste was too young to know any different. When I tried to guide her and some of the other young ones to the lighter side of magic, I was banished.”
Before he even meant to speak, Khalstorm snapped, “You should have tried harder.”
Xanthia blinked at the startling outburst, momentarily taken aback. “What more could I have done? I was young. Untested. Should I have challenged my elders? Martyred myself? What good would that have done? It was wiser to leave with my life intact, get stronger . . . find allies.” Her gaze slid back to the others. “So what say you? Will you help me?”
There was a long moment of hesitation. Finally, Orik spoke, “You said there were two ways to remove the mark. What is the second?”
“Kill Rathmort. If you think you can.”
Jessie and Orik shared a look. The two had recently battled Rathmort and his clan, barely escaping with their lives.
Jessie reached out to grab Orik’s hand. “I want to help her, but he nearly killed you twice, Orik. I’ll not let you face him again without me there. I refuse.”
Orik brought her knuckles to his lips, placing a soft kiss there. “Then that excludes me from joining the party, because if I should go, my stubborn lass here would only follow.” Jessie’s lips quirked in confirmation. “Rayu, if you’ll agree, then I’ll ask you to take charge of the expedition. The king will need to grant his approval, of course, but considering Xanthia saved his mate’s life, and so long as she vows to remove the hex from Jessie, I’m sure he will no’ object.”
Rayu studied Xanthia with suspicion. “For you, Orik, I will agree to do this, but I still donna trust this witch.”
“Noted,” said Orik.
