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“Yes,” I said. “I am.”
Carnon nodded, blowing out a breath. “Good. Then let’s get to work.”
Chapter 25
As much as I wanted to create the witch mirror and go to Mama immediately, Carnon convinced me that it would be wiser to strategize first.
“We need a plan and information, Elara,” Carnon said, walking down the moonstone hall from his office to one of the many meeting rooms. He was supposed to meet the Daemon Lords to discuss the situation with the witches, and he had insisted I go with him, despite my misgivings. I was certain that once the Lords sensed our bond, they would be livid, possibly enough to pull their support from Carnon.
“I assure you, Red,” Carnon replied when I expressed this fear, gripping my hand tightly and raising it to kiss my knuckles. “I can take care of the Daemon Lords. I’ve been managing them for ten years now.”
Cerridwen had made it back safely, and the palace had been put on alert with more guards present in the halls than usual. Cerridwen herself had been assigned to attend this meeting as a member of the royal guard, and she stood firmly at attention when we entered the chamber.
The Lords were already there, seated at a huge table of black stone, with a map of the Darklands that covered its surface. Herne was arguing some point with Tyr when we entered, greeting us only with a distracted nod, and Brigid smiled at me demurely from her seat at the table. Only Scathanna approached us, her face twisted into a smile.
Akela growled, and she glared at him. I noticed a spider scuttling toward me and squished it with the toe of my boot.
“My King,” Scathanna simpered, either not noticing or pretending not to notice my assault on her tiny spy. “It is so good to see you back safely.” She put a hand on Carnon’s chest, and he stiffened imperceptibly.
I didn’t think about the ramifications of my actions in that moment, feeling only icy rage as I smacked her hand away. Scathanna looked at me with a beautiful scowl.
“How dare you strike me, Lady Elara,” she hissed, looking to Carnon as if for support.
“How dare you put your hand on what is not yours,” I replied coldly. Carnon shot me a look that was half warning, half wicked amusement, one brow raised.
“My King,” Herne boomed, effectively ending our confrontation and forcing our attention toward the table. “Shall we begin?”
“Yes,” Carnon replied, stepping around Scathanna and pulling me with him to the head of the stone table. Scathanna gave me a smile as I passed that chilled my blood, far more than any scowl she could have shot me. “What is the situation?”
“The unit stationed at the border is reporting daily assaults on the wards from the witches,” Herne replied, pointing to the map to show the line of defense that had been placed near the edge of the Bloodwood. “Just one or two lone casters each day, but they are relentless.”
“The wards?” Carnon asked, frowning at the map.
“Holding,” said Tyr in a lazy drawl. “But it may be worth imbuing them with blood magic as a precaution.”
“Only if the witches seem likely to succeed,” Carnon replied, giving Tyr a frown. “You know my feelings about blood magic.”
“We should increase the patrol,” Brigid chimed in, her sweet, musical voice refreshing after Tyr’s deep drawl. “Make sure we have a variety of casters stationed there, just in case.”
“Casters?” I asked, looking to Brigid.
“Demons who can cast magic outward,” she explained, smiling faintly. “Fire and shadow are the most common types.”
“Why is she here?” Scathanna asked, nodding to me from the place she had taken at the table. “She is not our queen, and she is a potential enemy spy. I really think—”
“What you think is irrelevant, Lady Scathanna,” Carnon snapped, giving her a look that would terrify any lesser being. “I wish her to be here. Elara can speak to the magic the witches possess. Can they break down magical wards?”
Carnon had directed this question toward me, and I frowned, trying to think through every spell I had ever read. “There are spells for undoing,” I said slowly, trying to think how I might undo a magical barrier. “And spells of passage. But if the witches are using blood magic, then there could be other ways for them to break the wards.”
“The wards are tied to your will,” Herne said, looking at Carnon intently. “As long as you live, none can pass through without your blessing.”
“So we think,” Carnon said darkly, studying the map. “But the wards have never been tested this much. They didn’t go up until the last Witch War ended, and the witches left to lick their wounds in peace behind that damned wood they grew.”
“Why build the Bloodwood?” I asked, also frowning at the map. The Witchlands were there, a small circle surrounded by the trees of the Bloodwood. In looking at the map, I realized just how small and insignificant the Witchlands were compared to the Darklands. “If the wards can keep the witches out, why would they raise the wood?”
“That’s a question for a witch, I’m afraid,” Carnon replied.
“Do you not know?” Scathanna asked, giving me a scathing look. “Are you not our supposed source of intelligence on the witches?”
