by Donna Grant
“I don’t think it’s safe for anyone to be traveling. You included.”
Once more, his lips curved into a half-grin. “Perhaps. You doona seem afraid of much.”
“Because I’m not. Why do you care?” She took two more steps toward him. Her gaze moved to his hands. She couldn’t see his dagger anymore, but she knew it was there.
He glanced over his shoulder to the forest. “You warned me. I’m simply doing the same.”
“You’ve done your duty. You can continue on.”
“That I can.”
Yet, he didn’t move. Runa took the last two steps that put her back where she had begun. “Who are you?”
“I told you.”
“Maybe I should’ve asked a better question. Like, how do you know me?”
“If I knew you, would I have asked for your name?”
Her gaze narrowed on him. “Answering a question with a question isn’t answering.”
Hazel eyes lowered to the snow-covered ground for a heartbeat before his head issued a single nod. “Nay, it’s no’.”
“You don’t intend to tell me, do you?”
When he didn’t utter another syllable, Runa spun on her heel and left him. For all she knew, he was a distraction that would keep her from discovering the truth. If the Gira who’d told her of her grandmother and sister being in danger was right, then Runa had to cover as much ground as she had the previous day. If only she knew where to go other than north.
The farther she went, the colder it got. The trek would’ve been easier if she had a horse, but she found that she moved quicker, especially in the forest, without one. Now, however, she wished for one of the animals. She could cover twice as much distance on horseback. But that wasn’t an option, at least not at the moment.
Runa left the safety of the woods. She tried to walk in a straight line, but she soon found that the snow was just too deep. She had no choice but to get back on the road. The open lane, however, made her easy to spot. She didn’t like being so exposed. But the farther north she went, the less that became an issue. There was simply no one around.
A prickling sensation along her neck had her pausing to look behind her. She half expected to see Brom, but there was no sign of him or anyone else. Nor did she sense any Gira, which made her frown, since something or someone had caused the reaction within her.
She turned back around and kept walking. All the while, she tried to come up with a plan. She had no idea where Synne was, and since the likelihood of her finding the Varroki was slim, her best bet was to locate Sybbyl and the Coven. That would be the easiest thing since the Gira would be near Sybbyl.
Runa crested a hill and spotted a small grove of trees in the glen below. She smiled and jogged to them. When she reached them, she flattened her palms against the bark and closed her eyes as she attempted to discern where the Gira were.
It didn’t take her long to discover where they were located. The largest gathering of Gira she had ever heard of before was about ten leagues from her current location. She hadn’t spoken to the nymphs in the forest last night, mainly because she wasn’t in the mood. They hadn’t come to her either, and she had been glad of it.
Most times, the Gira steered clear of her. She was an anomaly in their world, something they didn’t want to admit to or recognize. That had once hurt her, but not anymore. She had found her place despite the nymphs wishing to kill her. Now, they feared her.
She had assumed that was why the nymphs in the forest the night before had given her a wide berth. But what if she’d been wrong? What if they kept away because they were hiding? The young Gira she’d tracked and spoken with had run for her life because she had stood up to Sybbyl. She’d told Runa that she had been the only one, but Runa suspected that other nymphs had made their exit quietly, as well, hoping not to draw attention. If that were the case, it wouldn’t be long before their absence was noticed.
The Gira generally went after their own, but there were instances when they preferred to pay someone to do the dirty work. Since Runa had been able to move freely between the humans and the Gira, she took the opportunities given to her—and the coin they provided.
Morea hadn’t approved. Runa had tried to make her foster mother understand that she didn’t hunt for pleasure. It was a job. Simple as that. Besides, the Gira had killed numerous humans over the years. At least, that was Runa’s argument—one that had always ended with Morea turning away.
Runa opened her eyes and dropped her hands from the trees. The nymphs’ magic was powerful. In many cases, more powerful than any witch’s. Runa would even garner to say it was stronger than the Varroki’s. The problem was, the Gira were selfish. They gave only the magic they were forced to give to the group. The rest, they kept for themselves.
Morea, and it seemed Asrail, as well, were two exceptions to the rule—in everything. They had sacrificed their standing, and even their lives, to give both Runa and her sister a chance. She just wished that Morea had told her about Synne. She didn’t understand why her foster mother had kept that secret from her, and there was no way to get the answer now.
Her thoughts turned back to the Gira. She wondered if Sybbyl knew how potent the nymphs’ magic was. Add that to Sybbyl’s magic, which the Staff of the Eternal boosted, and the Coven leader could well take over the world.
Runa pulled the hood of her cloak up to cover her face as she thought about the Hunters that had been killed. Synne had been raised with them, but her sister had escaped the massacre. There was a chance that other Hunters were also out there somewhere. There wasn’t nearly enough of them, however. Not with the sheer number of Gira.
Then there was the Varroki. Runa could only hope that Synne wasn’t being treated differently because she was half-Gira.
The snow began to fall harder. Runa looked northeast, where she knew the pack of Gira were. She would only be able to get so close before they sensed her. It was doubtful that she could get close enough to see Sybbyl or even her grandmother, Asrail. While the Gira tended to stay away from her because she hunted them when an offer came through, that didn’t mean they would allow her near. Most likely, the moment they realized that she was there, they would descend upon her. She wouldn’t help anyone if the Gira killed her.
She couldn’t go to her sister since she didn’t know where the Varroki were.
She couldn’t go to the Coven for her grandmother since the Gira would alert Sybbyl.
She couldn’t find a Hunter for help because she had no idea where to locate one—or if there were any left.
Runa looked back the way she had come and debated trying to find the Gira who had hidden in the forest to see if they would join her, but she already knew the answer. They were running away. Otherwise, they would’ve alerted the others that she was here.
An owl hooted above her. She raised her head to see a small white owl high in the branches of a tree. It blinked its big, yellow eyes at her before swiveling its head. Runa watched it for a few minutes before the bird flew away. When she lowered her gaze, a woman stood off to the side, watching her with deep blue eyes.
“I wondered if you would find your way here,” she said with a smile as she drew back the hood of her cloak to reveal wavy, pale blond hair.
Runa narrowed her eyes on the petite woman. “Is that right?”
“It is, Runa.” The woman’s smile widened. “I see I’ve surprised you. Good. I think you need more surprises. I’m Asa.”
“How do you know me?”
Asa nodded toward the owl that flew toward her. The moment Asa lifted her arm, the bird perched upon it. “Frida told me.”
That’s when Runa knew. “You’re a witch.”
“I am. I lived at the abbey with the other witches and Hunters, including your sister, Synne. I’ve been searching for you ever since.”
Runa flexed her fingers, ready to grab her blades. “Why have you been looking for me?”
“The same reason you’re here.”
4
Brom watched Runa and the witch from a distance. He had opted not to tell Runa that he had been looking for her before they met. She was already wary, and she likely wouldn’t have believed him. Just the brief interaction they’d shared had told him so much about her.
She was capable of taking care of herself. There also didn’t seem to be much that frightened her. She had stood her ground against him, unwavering in her knowledge that she could take him down. Though, she had underestimated him and allowed him to get the drop on her by way of his dagger.
Still, Runa obviously had skills. She held her short swords as if she used them every day—which she most likely did. Her comfort level with the blades told him that she wouldn’t hesitate to use them if needed.
Then there was her stature. She held herself with grace and confidence. Her breeches did nothing to distract from the fact that she was a woman. Quite the opposite, really. He found himself wishing her cloak was gone so he could see all of her legs as well as her backside. But he hadn’t gotten that view.
Yet.
It was difficult to determine how long her blond hair was since it was twisted into so many plaits that he didn’t know where one ended and another began. Her eyes, however, were the gateway to not only her soul but also her mind. When she’d looked at him, he could see her mulling over different responses to whatever he might say. She wasn’t just any woman. There was something distinctly different about her. What that might be, he couldn’t pinpoint quite yet. He still wondered how she had moved in the snow without leaving any footprints. It wasn’t done with magic, because he’d looked for that. So, how had she done it? He would have to get her to tell him. Right after he got close enough and convinced her to trust him.
Brom chuckled to himself. That wasn’t going to happen. Not that he blamed her. He didn’t trust anyone either, so he knew this wasn’t going to be an easy task. He hadn’t imagined finding her so soon. Now that he had, he still wasn’t sure what to do.
Help her? Hinder her?
Stop her?
The possibilities were endless. That was the main reason he hadn’t told her that he recognized her face. She’d asked if he knew her, and he’d said no. Because he didn’t. She hadn’t asked the right question. Of course, he was splitting hairs. But until he knew exactly what he was doing, he would be cautious.
If he were lucky, he might find out more tonight as he slept. Then again, he wouldn’t actually allow himself to go that deep into sleep since he wasn’t sure who his friends or enemies were. At least now, he knew that Runa wasn’t Synne or Malene. He had put one face to a name.
He cocked his head to the side and tried to get a better look at the woman currently speaking with Runa. Brom kept his distance from witches for a great many reasons. Foremost was that he didn’t want to give them any indication that he was a warlock and therefore gain the Coven’s attention.
Brom jerked when the witch’s gaze briefly landed on him. He knew without a doubt that she looked directly at him. Even from a distance, there was no denying it. She knew that he was there. Would she tell Runa? As the seconds ticked by and Runa didn’t turn around to look for him or even appear as if she knew he was around, he began to wonder what the witch was up to.
He got even more curious when he saw a white owl land on the witch’s outstretched arm. She stroked the bird with a familiarity that said the two had known each other for some time. He knew some witches could speak to animals. This woman may be such a witch. That could explain how she knew that he was there. The owl had told her.
Suddenly, the bird of prey stretched out its wings and took to the air—and flew right to him. It landed on a tree, blinking its big eyes. He flattened his lips then turned his attention back to Runa and the witch. They stood in a glen, and he was still at the top of the hill. It gave him a slight advantage, but not much since there were few places for him to hide. He was off to the side, far from the path that Runa had traveled. It had made his progress much slower since he had to traverse through the deep snow, but he had maintained his pace to keep up with her.
Brom looked at the owl as it hooted softly at him. The way it stared at him made him feel as if the bird were sizing him up. Most likely, it was doing exactly that for its mistress. If he had that ability, he would absolutely use it to his advantage. He couldn’t even be upset with the witch. She had no way of knowing whether he was friend or foe.
It wasn’t yet noon, but the gray skies and snow made it feel as if it were much later. Brom could use the weather to his advantage and creep closer to Runa, but he didn’t. He didn’t trust her or the witch, and he would watch his back until he got a better feel for them. Not that he expected to ever trust them. It wasn’t in his nature.
Secrecy had surrounded him since before his birth. Afterward, even more so. He lived alone because he preferred it, but also because no one could ever know who he was. The only way that would change is if he happened to find the Varroki, and he knew that was a remote possibility. They were sequestered for a reason. Because of that, he remained hidden.
“Yet, here I am,” he mumbled.
Brom shook his head. He was on a wild goose chase, that much was clear. He might have found his target, but that was all he’d done. He had learned nothing more than he knew that morning.
You know her name.
“Runa.”
He liked the way it rolled off his tongue. It made him think of the ancient Celts, of the time of the Norse. When magic was embraced, and witches were revered. She would’ve fit right in with either the Celts or the Norse. Runa had a warrior’s soul.
The question was: which side did she fight for?
Brom couldn’t ask her that earlier because she might have pieced together that he was a warlock. It was better for him to pretend ignorance, at least for the moment. The problem was that he’d liked her instantly. There had been a connection that he couldn’t ignore.
That could be because he was attracted to her. His body’s response to seeing her face-to-face had been…thrilling. Such an effect on his body could have resulted in his mind being clouded. Desires of the flesh had a way of hindering a person’s normal thought processes and actions. While he very much wanted to give in to the hunger, he held himself in check.
Suddenly, he frowned, remembering how she had cautioned him about the forest when they had met. Brom wasn’t sure if she had been warning him against bandits or the Gira. He’d run enough nymphs off and away from the area around his home to know that they were lethal creatures, especially to the unsuspecting.
Brom winced as a sharp pain went through his head right before he heard voices.
“…Jarin and the others are waiting,” Armir said.
Malene sighed. “I’m not afraid of war.”
“No one said you were.”
“You question why I don’t send our people out to meet Sybbyl.”
“You are Lady of the Varroki for a reason,” Armir told her. “Look where you have led us. We will follow you anywhere. I will follow you anywhere.”
Malene was quiet for a moment. “I’m waiting on something.”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing,” she told him.
Armir’s voice held a note of insistence when he asked, “What happened?”
“There’s an unknown participant.”
Brom grabbed his head as it began to pound. He turned onto his side as he struggled past the pain to hear the voices again, but they were gone. Several minutes passed before the agony finally ebbed.
He blinked up at the sky as he drew in deep breaths. Nothing like that had ever happened before. Normally, he had to concentrate for a while before he got into a deep enough trance to hear the Varroki. He sighed and sat up, shaking the snow from him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about what had just happened.
On the one hand, he liked that he’d gotten another glimpse of things with the Varroki. But on the other, for it to come out of the blue like that meant that it could be a detriment to him if it happened
at a time when he was facing his enemies. They could overtake him easily given the distraction.
Brom wasn’t sure what had alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone. He glanced up to the limb where the owl sat before he turned his head to find the witch Runa had spoken with. She gave him a welcoming smile that he didn’t return.
“Don’t worry,” she told him in an accent he couldn’t quite place. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He quirked a brow as he looked into her dark blue eyes. “My secret?”
“You’re a warlock.”
“I doona know what you mean.”
She laughed and wrapped her beige cloak tighter around her. “By your face, whatever just happened was a first. Perhaps I can help with that.”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
Her gaze slid away for a moment. “You’re right. You don’t know me.”
Brom looked over his shoulder, searching for Runa, but he couldn’t see her. He looked back at the witch to find her watching him silently. He suspected that whatever he said next would determine whether he discovered where Runa had gone. He shouldn’t care. After all, he’d found her once, he could do it again.
“I came to this land when I was a young girl,” she told him, a note of sadness in her voice. “I came because my path led me here. Because this is my destiny. I knew even then that I would spend my life fighting against the Coven.”
He gazed at her for a long moment. Brom chose not to reply to see if she would say more.
The witch drew in a deep breath and moved a strand of blond hair from her face. Brom saw the markings of a tattoo on her hand and fingers.
“I found a home with Edra. The moment I heard that she had fought the Coven and won, I knew I needed to be with her. Edra and her husband, Radnar, set up a sanctuary for witches hiding from the Coven. Soon, it became a haven for anyone needing a home. Each of us had skills we used. Mine was that I could communicate with animals. Frida has been my companion for many years,” she said and motioned to the owl.
