by Kate Moseman
Yes, she’d taken the right train from Paris.
Yes, she’d gotten off at the right stop.
Yes, she’d found the cafe and had been waiting promptly at—
Raya slapped her forehead.
The instructions didn’t say “7:00 a.m.” They said “7:00 p.m.”
The small amount of worry bloomed into a bouquet of concern. How could you go for a hike so late in the evening? No wonder she’d assumed the time meant early morning, not sunset. Nature was bad enough when you had plenty of light to navigate by, let alone when you were staggering around in the dark.
Perhaps it was a typo.
She read all the way to the bottom of the page and found the hotel where they were staying.
That settled it. She’d track them down and make sure she wasn’t left behind, typo or not. A big breakfast would have to wait. Raya dug out the phrasebook and motioned to the waiter. “Bonjour, monsieur. Wait—hold on—I’ll get it.” She flipped the pages. “Où est—I know it’s in here somewhere—”
The waiter regarded her with saintly patience.
“L’hôtel! Où est l’hôtel?” She pointed to the hotel information printed on the paper.
He peered at the paper, then unleashed a torrent of French accompanied by a complicated set of gestures.
“Slower, please.” She rubbed her forehead. “Strike that. Can you draw a map?” Raya picked up a pen and squiggled it in the air.
“Ah!” he said. He flipped the paper over and drew a creditable map of the streets surrounding the cafe, carefully placing a star over her destination.
“Thank you! Merci!” She blew him a kiss and walked out of the cafe with a spring in her step.
While crossing the nearby square, the scent of fresh crepes wafted through the clean morning air. Raya found her footsteps veering toward the crepe stand without conscious thought.
Several stuffed crepes later, she followed the hand-drawn map to a hotel adjacent to the grand chateau. She did her best to look like she belonged as she crossed the lobby to a small outdoor garden with cafe tables, hoping she would discover the witches having breakfast.
No such luck. Her shoulders sagged as she considered her options. Would they really have left without her? Or was the paper correct, and the hike not scheduled to take place until it was nearly dark?
Surely it was too early to bother Nathan—but then, she’d come all this way.
She scribbled his name on the paper and carried it to the front desk. “Nathan Lorde?”
“You are friends?” the clerk asked in English.
Raya nodded enthusiastically and tried not to look like a serial killer.
“Your name?”
Raya gave her name.
The clerk picked up the phone and dialed. She said a few words in French, then switched to simple English. “You have a friend here.” She paused. “Raya.”
Seconds ticked by and sweat broke out on Raya’s skin.
“He says go up.”
They hadn’t left without her. Raya thanked her lucky stars, then thanked the clerk and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. She found the correct room and knocked on the door, anticipation curling around the crepes in her belly.
The door opened.
Nathan swung the door wide. “You’re early,” he said flatly.
A blonde-haired witch across the room squealed with delight and clapped her hands when she caught sight of Raya.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Raya entered the room and jumped when the door banged closed behind her. “I misread the paper. I thought it said 7:00 a.m.—”
The blonde-haired witch flipped her smooth, blown-out locks over her shoulder and cast a teasing look at Nathan. “I told Nathan he should have been more clear.”
“Raya, this is my collaborator—”
“I’m Lizzy!” She bounced out of her chair and gave Raya an impossibly cute hug.
Raya, not naturally a hugger, accepted the unexpected affection with a quick pat on the other woman’s back. “Hi, Lizzy.”
Lizzy drew back and looked at Raya with concern. “Have you eaten? You must have gotten up so early. I know—you can go with us!”
Raya refrained from explaining she’d already eaten. A second breakfast would probably do her good, considering the energy required for the hike, and she was not about to pass up the chance to have breakfast with two highly proficient practitioners. This was the kind of opportunity she’d been hoping for ever since she’d taken the first steps on the path of witchcraft.
“Go without me,” said Nathan. “I’m not hungry.”
Lizzy’s eyes shone with disappointment, although Nathan didn’t seem to notice. “Are you sure?”
Nathan turned away and picked up a book. “I’m sure.”
“Just us girls, then!” Lizzy threaded her arm through Raya’s.
Raya glanced back at Nathan to see if he’d picked up the false ring to Lizzy’s overly bright tone.
He appeared to be fully engrossed in the book.
“Come on then,” said Raya, tugging Lizzy out the door. She was sure she could fit at least one more croissant in before lunchtime.
They collected a few pastries from the lobby. Lizzy led the way out to the hotel grounds.
“Have you known Nathan long?” Raya nibbled the edge of the chocolate croissant. Best to take things slow.
“Absolutely ages,” said Lizzy, gesturing with her beautifully manicured hand. The hot pink nail polish shone like it was wet.
“Are you—” Raya paused, unsure if she was being too blunt.
“Together?” Lizzy looked down at her plain croissant as if she’d find the answer in the flaky pastry. “Not for lack of trying on my part.” She elbowed Raya and giggled. “Nathan’s got so much going on. He’s so busy, you know?”
Raya had never seen anyone pine so hard. “How busy can he be?”
Lizzy talked around a mouthful of croissant, but made it look adorable rather than ill-mannered. “Nathan is all about the work.”
“The work?”
Lizzy waved her croissant in a gesture that encompassed the whole world. “The work. The power. Don’t get me wrong”—she looked at Raya and a little line formed between her eyebrows—“I take my practice very seriously. But it’s everything to Nathan. No time for silly little things.” She laughed lightly. “Like love.”
10
Raya faced the entrance to the forest with trepidation. The beautiful sunlit trees, edged with gold in the fading light of the evening, only reminded her of what they would look like without the sun’s friendly illumination. Her gaze snagged on a fallen tree with the branches twisted outward like the outstretched fingers of a giant hand.
Lizzy bustled past carrying a bag full of gear. “Isn’t this exciting?” she chirped.
Exciting was not the word. Terrifying, maybe. Raya felt profoundly ill-equipped. She’d come to France for a nice indoor convention—not a pitch-black ramble through an unfamiliar forest surrounded by whatever beasts inhabited such an environment.
Lions. Tigers. Bears.
“Oh, my,” said Raya, adjusting the strap on her pack.
“What’s that?” said Lizzy.
Raya shifted the weight on her back and checked her wand’s position in her hair. “Nothing.”
“Are you ready?” Nathan handed them each a hiking pole for extra stability in the darkness.
Lizzy swung the pole like a tap dancer. “Ready!”
Nathan led the way into the woods, his stiff posture loosening as he hit the trail.
The path unfurled before them, wide enough for two people to walk side by side.
Raya fell into step with Lizzy. She’d seen a map of the forest earlier, but the simple two-dimensional view didn’t even begin to translate to the deep complexity of the surr
ounding landscape.
“We were so busy getting ready earlier I didn’t get to ask you about yourself,” said Lizzy.
Raya breathed heavier as the path went up a rise. She felt the pull of needing to share something about herself since Lizzy had been so open with her. “Did I tell you I was a school librarian?”
“No—really? That’s so cool! And you picked up witchcraft all on your own?”
“Self-taught.” Raya tried to breathe evenly but her exhalations came out in winded puffs. She hoped she didn’t collapse before it was all over. “You?”
“My mom was a witch. She’s kind of retired now, but she taught me a lot. I’m really good at sensing things.”
“Sensing things?”
“Magic. Speaking of which, I was in the audience for Nathan’s speech—did you know that?”
Raya shook her head.
“You lit up like a firecracker!”
Raya’s thoughts whirled like fallen leaves in the wind. Her little stunt had been spotted not just by Nathan, but by his assistant. No wonder she’d received an impromptu invite on their field trip. Belatedly, she realized that Lizzy had been waiting for her to reply. “Thanks. I don’t really have a particular thing that I’m good at, like you.”
Lizzy smiled. “Are you kidding? You draw power like a magnet.”
They walked on, the sounds of their footsteps punctuated by birdsong echoing in the trees.
“First landmark up ahead,” said Nathan.
Boulders tilted over the path, corralling them into a dark and narrow opening.
Inside, Nathan planted his hiking pole in the dirt floor of the cave. “Welcome to the Grotto of Perjury.”
Lizzy’s musical laugh rebounded strangely off the stone walls. “Couldn’t they come up with a better name?”
Raya placed her hand on the cool stone, faintly lit by the last remaining daylight. “Why is it called that?”
No one answered.
Nathan retrieved a granola bar from his pack. “If we stay here for a few minutes, your eyes will adjust to the darkness. You’ll be able to see better.”
Oddly, Raya wasn’t hungry. The chill of the stones seeped into her skin, setting off goosebumps. She imagined herself wrapped in her new leather jacket, which she’d left behind to keep it safe. The thought brought a smile to her lips but did nothing to alleviate the cold.
Lizzy sat next to Nathan on a boulder, not quite close enough to touch, and delicately removed the burrs that had hitched a ride on her clothing.
He finished his granola bar and tucked the wrapper into his pack.
Outside, the darkness became complete.
They resumed the hike.
Despite knowing the forest contained nothing that hadn’t been there an hour ago—when it was still light—Raya couldn’t help flinching at unfamiliar noises. Without a hiking pole, she would have tripped more than once.
Her eyes adjusted. The forest itself appeared limned in moonlight, almost like a photo negative. The leaves rustled in the night breeze.
The path opened up to a clearing. In the center of the clearing, on a small rise, stood what appeared to be a miniature castle, its four turrets silhouetted against the night sky. A steep stone staircase led up to the castle.
Raya stopped at the bottom of the steps and stared up at the castle. “What is that doing here?”
“It’s an observation point. Built about a hundred years ago.” Nathan removed his pack and set it on the stair.
Lizzy placed her pack on the ground and knelt, stroking the stone stairs. “Rebuilt after it was destroyed.”
“After an ‘earthquake.’” Nathan made exaggerated quotation marks in the air, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Lizzy shook her head slowly as she continued to run her hands over the stairs. “Not an earthquake.” She smiled, her even white teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Come here, Raya.”
Raya set her pack and hiking pole down and knelt next to Lizzy on the stairs.
Lizzy placed one hand on the step, then took Raya’s hand and laid it over her own. “Feel it.”
Raya felt the vibrant sparkle of Lizzy’s magic through her hand. She closed her eyes and let Lizzy’s hand conduct the magic hidden within the stones. Raya felt the power trickle through, and with it, a sense of what had happened long ago. She opened her eyes. “There were witches here before.”
“Attempting the same thing we are.” Despite the cold, Nathan removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
Raya stood up. “But—the original structure—it was destroyed?”
“They lost control,” he said. “We won’t.” He took a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. “We need supplies. Lizzy, set up, please.” Nathan walked away and disappeared into the dark edge of the clearing.
Lizzy hopped down from the stairs and picked up her pack. “On it.”
Raya looked up at the turrets. “It must have been a lot of power.”
“Come on. Last one to the top’s a rotten egg!” The blonde witch’s hair bounced as she ran up the stone steps.
There was no way Raya was going to run up those stairs with a full pack. She trudged after Lizzy, reminding herself again that it would all be worth it.
From the top of the miniature castle, the forest lay below her like a carpet worked in shades of midnight. She turned away from the castle walls and found Lizzy laying out the tools of their trade. “Where’s your wand?”
Lizzy shimmied a little and pulled a crystal-topped stick from under the neckline of her blouse. “Mama always said to keep it in a safe place.”
Raya laughed despite herself.
Lizzy tucked her wand behind her ear like a stray pencil. “So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to work together, like we did on the stairs. I’ll hook into the source of the power, and you draw it out.”
“Then what?” Raya imagined the amount of power it would have taken to collapse a building of this size.
“Nathan will direct it.”
“Direct it where?”
“Into the wands.” Lizzy wiggled hers. The crystal winked in the light of the moon.
Raya had never worked with another witch before. She would have to trust both of them to know what they were doing.
The sound of Nathan’s footsteps carried from the direction of the stairs. He reached the top and surveyed the preparations. “Ready?”
“Almost.” Lizzy lay on the floor, face-up, her arms slightly away from her body and her palms open to the sky.
Nathan took out a compass. “Can you orient your head here?” He gestured.
Lizzy scooted herself around to match his position.
Raya watched them. “Does the direction matter?”
“It does for this.” He bent and checked Lizzy’s position relative to the compass.
Lizzy looked up at him and smiled.
Raya frowned. “Why? I thought you were directing the magic into our wands.”
“Most of it.” He straightened. “I have a side project.”
“Nathan always has a side project,” said Lizzy.
“I have another power source I’m working on. If I can get a sighting on it from here, I might be able to track it down.”
Lizzy clapped her hands. “Such fun!”
Nathan’s lips pressed together. Clearly, he was done with chitchat. “Raya, kneel next to Lizzy.”
Raya lowered herself to the floor.
Lizzy gave her a broad wink. “Here we go!” From her position lying on the floor, she flipped her hands palm down.
Nathan checked his watch and Lizzy’s position one final time. “Put your hand over hers.”
Raya touched the wand in her hair once, then laid her hand over Lizzy’s. “When I draw the power, what do I do with it?”
“Imagine you’re filling
a hot air balloon above your head,” said Nathan.
“And if something goes wrong?”
He cocked one eyebrow. “Don’t let it.”
Lizzy closed her eyes. A faint smile touched her hot pink lips.
Raya felt Lizzy questing for the signature of power lingering around them. Minutes ticked by as Raya knelt, her legs beginning to cramp, her hand sweating lightly on Lizzy’s perfectly manicured fingers.
Lizzy gasped.
It was like striking a vein—a vein made of gold lava. A wave of nausea passed over Raya as the sheer size of it barrelled into her consciousness. To make a mistake while drawing on this source would be catastrophic. She was not prepared for this. Nathan should have told her. This was no artifact sitting quietly in a museum, to be lightly drawn on to replenish subtle magics. This was a power substation—no, a nuclear reactor—of pure, chaotic magic.
No wonder the original building had been blown to smithereens.
She’d be surprised if the witches hadn’t been, too.
11
Her instincts screamed to slam shut the connection between herself and Lizzy. Time slowed as she braced herself against the floor with her free hand. The magic surged through, forging a sudden bridge between her and the other witches.
Lizzy’s bright and bubbly facade cracked as if cleaved along a fault line. Sadness seeped through, laced with longing for Nathan.
Ambition radiated from Nathan, cold and pure like a Damascene sword. He had gambled on Raya’s natural ability and her own hunger for power—and if she didn’t destroy them all in the process, he would win the bet.
Raya’s breath froze as she tried to balance the onslaught of the magic and the intrusive thoughts. Could they see into her mind, too?
She had to breathe.
She had to stay in control.
If she died, Phoenix would kill her.
She remembered the look on his face just before he left her at the Eiffel Tower.
Raya dragged a breath into her lungs. She would not fail. Not now. Not after everything she’d been through. Unbidden, the memory of the pyre of her belongings flashed to mind.
