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“I’ll get you and your mother out, Elara,” Carnon said softly, his forehead pressed to mine. “Even if it means giving myself to your grandmother.”
“You will do no such thing,” I sniffed, glaring at him in the darkness. Akela whined, and I added, “or I will kill you myself.”
Carnon chuckled, but the sound lacked his usual warmth. “As my Queen commands. Do you have any bright ideas?”
“Maybe,” I said, feeling around my belt. I cursed. “They took my pouch. My casting elements.”
“Maybe you don’t need them,” Carnon murmured, dropping his voice. “You’ve cast on mostly intention before. Maybe you can wield witch magic like your demon magic.”
“No witch can do that,” I replied snappishly, feeling increasingly panicky as the true depth of the shit we were in finally hit me.
“No,” Carnon agreed, injecting patience into his tone that I probably didn’t deserve. “But you, my flowering blossom,” I wrinkled my nose at the endearment, and he smiled faintly. He was trying to distract me from my panic with his nonsense, I supposed. Bless him. “You are notjusta witch. You are half demon, and you should be able to use your magic like a demon. Try.”
“How would I even start?” I asked, feeling like witch magic just couldn’t be done without an altar and elements and the spirits called upon.
“Start with a simple spell,” he suggested. “One you can do easily with your elements.”
I sighed, wracking my brain for every spell. The invocation of the Goddess was by far the simplest, requiring only basic elements that could be easily substituted. Maybe I could imagine them? It felt silly, but I closed my eyes, imagining the altar. I imagined drawing the pentagram, lighting the candles, and placing the elements at each of the five points. I imagined it over and over, until I could picture it so clearly in my mind, I could practically see it in the dank cell with us. I could feel Carnon watching me intently as I finally spoke the words of invocation:
Maiden, grant me patience,
Mother, grant me life.
Crone, grant me wisdom,
And lead me in the light.
I threw my will into the spell, begging the Goddess for salvation, for my mate’s salvation, for a way through this darkness.
“Elara,” Carnon murmured, his voice a mix of awe and fear. “Open your eyes.”
The cell was lighter, and I looked around to find the source of the light. Carnon’s gaze caught mine, and he nodded down toward my clasped hands.
I was the source of the light, glowing faintly gold in the darkness.
Chapter 29
Carnon and I spent the next hour or so–it was hard to tell in the dark how long it was–coming up with our plan. We had to test it a few times in the cell, just to make sure I could replicate the magic on demand. When my grandmother returned, she found us huddled in the corner, Akela’s head on my knee, no magic in sight.
I looked up, bleary eyes and face stained with tears that were only partially forced. The ironhurt, and I was still sick with worry for Mama. The drain on my magic was substantial, the iron making it harder to focus to work a spell.
“Come,” my grandmother said, waving some witches forward to grab us by the arms and drag us after her. Akela stayed close, whining faintly, unable to make proper noises of anger or comfort with the muzzle.
“Where are you taking us?” I asked, injecting a tremulous fear into my voice.
“Play your part,” Carnon had warned me, when we had decided on the way forward. “No matter what she does to me, you play your part until the time is right.”
Carnon was also playing a part, that of the semi-aloof granite statue; the Demon King who didn't particularly care about me, per se, but did care about fulfilling his obligation to protect. I wasn’t sure if my grandmother knew about the Horned God or how one might invoke his protection, but if she knew I loved him, or that he loved me, she would use it against us.
“To see your dear Mama,” my grandmother answered. “And to put my plans in motion.”
“What plans?” I asked, making a show of struggling against the iron.
“You'll see soon enough, my dear,” my grandmother said, waving distractedly back at me. “Just watch.”
We re-entered the round chamber from before, but didn’t stop as we were marched back up the stairs, through the dining room, and to the paneled hallway where we had first entered my grandmother’s manor. She spoke the incantation for travel, and clearly the witches knew where we were going as they stepped through without so much as a question.
Another moment of icy panic and we were out, stepping through another huge mirror into yet another paneled hallway. This one was different, familiar somehow, and I looked around to see several gilded mirrors propped against the walls where we emerged.
