by Donna Grant
She tried to hold back the scream, but it was torn from her. The entire world shook around her, and just when she didn’t think she could stand it anymore, everything stopped.
Helena took in a breath and looked down at Valdr, who still slept. The next moment, she turned away, clutching her stomach as she retched. It felt as if there were thousands of hammers slamming against her head, but the worst part was that her eyes couldn’t focus on anything.
“Easy,” Armir said, his voice hoarse. “It will pass.”
She shook her head, not believing him as she continued to heave. Tears of pain fell from her eyes and sweat covered her. Her arms gave out, and she collapsed to the side, grateful for the cold stone pressed against her forehead.
Moments passed with her eyes closed. Her stomach finally started to settle and her skin to cool. Helena didn’t know how long she lay there before she felt the wind. She rolled onto her back and found herself gazing up at a sky thick with gray clouds. It was then that she noticed the tall columns that were curved inward toward her.
She turned her head to Armir. He was fuzzy around the edges, and no matter how many times she blinked, it didn’t clear. He was seated but leaning to the side, one arm propping him up. His eyes were closed, and the fingers on the ground gripped the stone.
It made her feel better that he was as affected as she. Magic came at a price. Always. Some magic had very little repercussions—or in the ways of the Coven, was directed elsewhere so they felt nothing. But other magic, like jumping locations, had effects that made it difficult to continue using such spells.
Armir’s eyes snapped open a heartbeat before a woman appeared. Helena didn’t have time to react to her vision clearing because she saw him looking at the woman with such longing that it made Helena catch her breath. But as quickly as it appeared, Armir hid it.
Helena returned to her side and pushed herself up by her hands. She grasped Jarin’s staff and shifted to face the woman. Without having to be told, Helena knew the stunning female with the long, flaxen hair and gray eyes was Malene. She was slight in stature, but there was steel in her bones and fire in her eyes that only one who led understood. Helena stumbled to her feet, and Malene was there to help her, lending a hand.
She smiled at Helena. “Welcome to Blackglade.”
Helena returned the smile as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “Thank you.”
Malene glanced at the staff before she turned her head to Armir. They exchanged a silent look before he hefted Valdr in his arms and climbed to his feet.
“Come,” Malene urged.
Helena walked with her to the edge of the tower. Helena wanted to look out at the wonders around her, but her vision still hadn’t cleared completely. They went down a flight of stairs and entered a large chamber.
Malene walked to a table and motioned toward a bench while Armir kicked the door shut behind him and rested the wolf near the roaring fire.
Armir began to talk, but Malene held up her hand, a blue light coming from her palm. “I saw it. All of it,” she stated.
Helena frowned and glanced at Armir. “I do not understand.”
“Her powers continue to grow,” he explained. “Malene is sometimes able to see things as they happen.”
Helena jerked her head to the Lady of the Varroki. “You saw what Sybbyl did?”
“Aye,” Malene replied with a nod. “I knew Armir would bring you here, so I began preparing. First, you need to build up your strength from the effects of the spell. Eat.”
Helena glanced at the table, just noticing the array of food before her. Armir didn’t hesitate to reach for food, but she was more hesitant.
“Trust me,” Malene said. “It helps.”
Helena took a piece of bread and pulled apart a small section that she put into her mouth. As soon as she ate it, she discovered she was ravenous. She finished off two more pieces of bread and some meat before she touched the goblet of water.
She listened to Malene speak of mundane things that happened around the city, and Helena realized that the Lady of Varroki was attempting to put her at ease.
With her belly full, Helena folded her hands in her lap and met Armir’s gaze.
He set down his goblet and sighed. He then glanced at Malene. “What are your thoughts?”
She walked serenely to the table and sat beside Helena. “My vision, if you wish to call them that, began with Sybbyl’s arrival. I heard your exchange with her, as well as witnessed the battle. You did well. So well, in fact, that you were besting her. She fled, and took Jarin with her.”
“I was winning?” Helena asked.
Armir chuckled. “You sound surprised. You shouldn’t be, especially after talking to the First Witch.”
Malene’s soft gray eyes widened. “She spoke to you?”
“Aye,” Helena admitted.
Malene’s smile was wide. “I knew she was still with us.”
Armir leaned his arms on the table as he looked between the two of them. “We have to find Jarin.”
Helena waited for Malene’s agreement, but the Lady remained silent. Helena asked, “What are you not saying?”
Malene’s gaze lowered to the floor for a long moment then she looked up. “Did Jarin tell you what he does?”
“Aye,” she said. “He told me how the Varroki have fought the Coven for generations.”
“And, all that time, the warriors spent weeks and months seeking out the Coven.”
Helena’s heart sank as she comprehended what Malene was saying. “Jarin and the other warriors search out witches because you have not been able to use a spell to find them.”
“Aye.”
“But we aren’t looking for witches. We search for Jarin,” Armir added.
Helena looked from the commander to Malene, and the two of them shared a smile. “Do you think it will work?”
“We can try,” Malene said.
“Now?”
Armir rose to his feet. “Perhaps you should rest.”
Helena glared at him. “You know what Sybbyl has planned for Jarin. Do you want to give her time to carry it out?”
“We can start now,” Malene said as she put a hand on Helena’s arm.
Helena looked down at the hand and instantly regretted her harsh words. “My apologies to both of you.”
“No need,” Armir said. “We understand.”
Nothing more was said of it as Malene rubbed her hands together, the blue light coming from each palm growing brighter. She held her hands facing each other and closed her eyes. Words Helena didn’t recognize tumbled from Malene’s lips.
Seconds became minutes, and sweat started to bead on Malene’s brow. Finally, the Lady of the Varroki gasped for air and lowered her hands, her chest heaving.
Helena waited expectantly, but the moment Malene’s eyes met hers, she knew the spell hadn’t worked. “Sybbyl is too strong.”
“I’m not giving up,” Malene said.
Helena got to her feet and walked around the chamber while Armir saw to Malene. Helena stopped at the window and looked out over the turbulent seas with waves that crested into white before rolling back into the expanse.
Sybbyl’s words kept playing over and over in her head, but there was something she could no longer ignore. Helena put her hand on her stomach. Did a life grow there? Did she dare hope?
Malene came up beside her and put a hand over Helena’s. “I can give you the answer you seek.”
Helena looked at her. “You know?”
“Aye. Do you wish to, as well?”
The answer wouldn’t change her desire to look for Jarin until she found him. No matter how long it took, no matter what she had to do, she wouldn’t give up on him.
“I do,” Helena said.
Malene lowered her arm and drew in a deep breath. Then she smiled. “A child grows in your womb.”
Another baby. Jarin’s child.
And hers.
This time, Helena had much more to fight for, and she
wasn’t going to lose her bairn or the man she loved.
23
Helena.
That was the first thought rushing through Jarin’s mind as he came to. He was on his side, and by the damp leaves and dirt beneath him, he was on the ground.
Instead of opening his eyes, he reached out with his senses, tuning his ears to catch the slightest sound, detecting the faintest shift in the air on his skin, and catching every scent upon the wind.
Sybbyl was with him. There was no denying the smell of her power and evil. And the only place a Coven member went to feel safe was a Witch’s Grove. He knew the still air from the places all too well.
But this Grove was different. It was calmer, as if the very trees themselves looked to Sybbyl for...everything.
Jarin tried to remember what had happened before. The last thing he recalled was looking at Helena. She had been magnificent standing defiantly atop the hill holding his staff. Watching her battle Sybbyl had left him breathless.
Not once had he worried about her, not after witnessing the strength of her magic. She had been as ferocious as any Viking shieldmaiden, as fierce as any Celtic warrior.
And she was his.
He knew it in his bones, in his soul. At that moment, he knew the name of his feelings for her—love. He was in love with Helena.
The elation within him dampened when his mind moved through the events of the skirmish between Helena and Sybbyl. Helena’s magic had freed him from the black smoke strands that held him, but he hadn’t had time to fight Sybbyl.
The witch had turned that damn staff on him, pressing it against his temple. And in his mind, she repeated one question: Where are the Varroki located?
Jarin tried to get away from her, away from the pain that had twisted his muscles and locked his limbs so he couldn’t move. The next thing he knew, everything went black.
Now, here he was. The only thing that made his situation better was knowing that Helena wasn’t there. She had been too strong for Sybbyl. While Sybbyl had tried to hide that fact, he’d seen the fear in her eyes, in the tightening of her mouth.
Jarin lifted his lids and stared at the wall of trees thirty feet from him, their branches interlaced so tightly no light could get to the floor of the forest. A Witch’s Grove, just as he’d sensed.
He spotted movement against one of the trunks and recognized the Gira. With every tree he looked at, he saw at least one of the nymphs. There had to be a hundred or more surrounding him. As that discovery settled in his gut like a stone, he realized two things.
That the Staff of the Eternal must have called the Gira.
And that he would never get past the nymphs to escape.
Jarin slowly sat up and gradually scanned the area. The Grove was massive, possibly the largest of them all. And like all of them, the ground was covered in bones.
He found Sybbyl in the middle of the Grove with her back to him. She knelt on her haunches, her black skirts splayed out perfectly around her. Her golden locks fell free to her waist, while the black crown remained perched atop her head.
Beside her, protruding from the ground, was the Staff of the Eternal.
She flung her arms out to her sides. Jarin rose to his feet, happy that he was once more in command of his body. But what concerned him was that he suspected that Sybbyl was about to cast a spell. He didn’t know if it was meant for him or Helena, but he had to stop it.
He walked to stand before Sybbyl. Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, sensing him. The black paint that went from temple to temple and across her eyes also covered her lids. So, when she snapped open her eyes, the white against the black was eerie.
A trick the Norse used many times.
“You finally woke,” she said. “I was beginning to wonder if I damaged your mind.”
He shook his head.
She lifted a blond brow. “You want to see what real magic is. Stay there, and I shall show you.”
“I know what real magic is,” he stated.
Her blue eyes narrowed. “Meaning it is not mine.”
“The staff has given you what you have now. Without it, you would be nothing. I doubt the Coven members would even listen to you if you attempted to lead them.”
She lowered her arms, resting her hands atop her thighs. “You are trying to rile me.”
“I speak the truth. Whatever feelings that stirs within you is meaningless to me.”
“I expected you to be a better liar than that. You want to hurt me, to anger me because you do not dare show the fury you are holding back.”
Jarin hated that she was able to read him so accurately. Perhaps all the time he’d spent on his own had been detrimental. He’d had no reason to learn to hide his feelings. The few times he had to immerse himself with others to get to a witch hadn’t lasted long enough for him to worry about being discovered.
Not to mention, he believed his performance had been adequate enough to pass him off for whatever he’d needed at the time.
This situation was entirely different. It was something the Hunters from the abbey were skilled at. They didn’t just learn weaponry and battle tactics, they learned how to blend in with any crowd, becoming whatever person they needed to be in order to complete their mission.
Too bad he didn’t have such skills.
“Your silence says it all,” Sybbyl stated, a confident grin upon her lips.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You were so certain that you would best Helena. That did not go quite as you planned, did it? In fact, you ran from her.”
The slight tightening of Sybbyl’s mouth was the only clue that his words had hit their mark.
“I’m far from finished with Helena. However, I found a new target.”
“Me?” he asked.
She laughed, her eyes locking on him. “By capturing you, I have given myself a way to the Varroki. I already rule the Coven. I give all witches—and warlocks—the same choice. Join me, or die.”
“You really believe you can take on the Varroki?”
Her smile grew. “Aye.”
“Then you’re a bigger fool than I first believed.”
“If the Varroki are so powerful, then why have they remained in the shadows?”
“To eradicate the Coven.”
She shrugged, rolling her eyes. “I think it’s because there aren’t as many of you as you would like me to believe. I think there has always only been a handful. And, like the Hunters, they believe they can impact us.”
Jarin’s brows shot up briefly as one side of his lips tilted downward. “I suppose I see how you might come to that conclusion. But let me give you another possibility. The Varroki are made up of many more than you think. They live for one thing—ensuring the Coven never gains power and tips the balance toward evil.”
Sybbyl’s brows drew together in a small frown.
“In all the years that the Coven has been trying to gain power, when has it happened? Has it always been just out of reach with something occurring that kept the Coven from attaining what they wanted?”
Jarin inwardly smiled when Sybbyl’s face contorted as if she had just eaten something sour.
“You lie,” she bit out.
“Do I? Or do I speak the truth?”
She shook her head, her long locks moving with her. “It was mistakes made by witches within the Coven that kept us from succeeding.”
“If that is what you believe.”
“I will find the Varroki.”
He gave a snort. “Nay, you will not.”
“You will take me to them.”
“Do you honestly believe that I would go out looking for Coven members, knowing that I might be taken and not have spells in place that would prevent me from willingly giving you such information—or allowing a witch to extract it from me?”
She considered him for a long moment. “Maybe what you say is true, or it could be another lie. I have yet to figure you out. I will, though. That I promise you. Until then, sit back and watch while I loc
ate the abbey and the Hunters so I can lay waste to them all.”
Shock went through Jarin, but he didn’t move. Edra was smart. She would know something like this was coming. She would prepare.
But would it be enough?
His mind went to Leoma, who was with Braith at his keep. Ravyn was also away from the abbey with Carac at his castle. Yet it was the children running around the abbey that Jarin kept thinking about.
Then he recalled that Sybbyl had said Helena was carrying his child. He had to get away from Sybbyl. Soon. Jarin wanted to be with Helena, to ensure the safety of her and their child.
Sybbyl once more lifted her arms out to her sides. She held his gaze for a moment before her eyes shut. Her lips moved, but he could not hear the words or make them out.
After a few minutes, she rose up on her knees and held her arms bent in front of her with her palms facing the sky. Sybbyl went silent and then leaned her head back. Black smoke billowed from her mouth and mingled with her hands.
Jarin’s arms dropped to his sides as he took a step back. He knew what that smoke could do, and he wanted no part of it. His magic filled his palms, waiting to lash out.
Then, he stilled. Magic? He not only had control of his body but his magic, as well. Was Sybbyl foolish enough to do that? Or was it the Witch’s Grove? Everyone knew the Groves helped to heighten magic.
Jarin might not like being in them, but there was no denying what they did. Sybbyl was too intent on her spell to think about him attacking her.
He drew in a deep breath, and right as the smoke began to spiral toward the sky, he pulled back his arms with his hands facing outward and shoved his magic at her.
It barreled into Sybbyl, knocking her onto her back and severing the spell before she could finish it. Jarin immediately responded by sending two more blasts of magic that hit Sybbyl so hard she was lifted off the ground and tossed a few feet away.
He strode to her as she rolled onto her back. He planted his feet on either side of her and held his hands over her, continually pushing his magic into her.
Instead of fear, she smiled up at him, causing unease to run through him.
