by Donna Grant
She looked out over the forest. “You would tell me if the Gira were here, right? You would let me know somehow.”
Synne doubted the bond Edra claimed she had with nature. The day before, she’d felt the connection, but today there was nothing. It was the first time she had felt such emptiness, and she didn’t like it at all.
The black smoke dissipated, revealing the woods Sybbyl had seen in her mind. Her skin still simmered from the sting of Helena’s purple fire, but the wound on her wrist bothered her the most. She would have to take care of that soon, but for now, there was something else she needed to see to.
It galled her that the witch had been so strong. Sybbyl had the Staff of the Eternal. It was supposed to give her ultimate power.
Instead, she once more had to flee Helena. If she had remained, she’d surely be dead. She needed to prove that she had the power to lead the Coven—and show Helena, Jarin, and everyone else that they should fear her.
Sybbyl might not be able to beat Helena right now, but she knew a way to ensure that she did. But the next bone of the First Witch would have to wait until after her revenge.
She smiled as her gaze roamed the trees lightly coated with snow. It was quiet and peaceful.
But not for long.
Sybbyl held out the staff and let her thoughts flow from her into the wood. She felt the magic burst from the tip of the staff and fall around her as she waited for it to reveal the direction to the Hunters’ hideout.
A frown formed when nothing happened. Then she turned and saw the black dots of magic highlighting the trail. Sybbyl strode forward until the trail ended. She repeated the spell thrice more, coming ever closer to the Hunters and their witch allies.
On her fourth use of the magic, she watched as the black specks emphasized a hidden entrance. She had finally found Edra and her Hunters. And now, it was time to end it all.
Sybbyl lifted her foot to walk when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Her head turned to reveal a Gira. Then another and another and another.
A look showed that the nymphs had followed her from the Witch’s Grove. They had chosen her over Helena. And that had to mean something. Her confidence renewed, she adjusted her grip on the staff.
“Are you ready, my beautiful nymphs?”
The chorus of whispers that answered only made her smile widen.
“Then let us wipe out all within,” she stated as she walked toward the entrance.
Edra stopped mid-sentence when a chill went through her. She knew in that moment that the time she’d dreaded had finally come. She shoved at the Hunters she’d been talking with and shouted, “Prepare! We’re under attack.”
She lifted her skirts and ran down the corridor, ignoring the tall, arched windows that let in light, and the ornate decoration in the stones. She shouted for everyone to get into their places as she rushed to find Radnar.
So many times, they had practiced and refined this drill. And after so many years, she had begun to believe that the Coven would never find them.
She burst from the abbey and came to a stop in the courtyard. The battle was already underway. Gira flooded onto the grounds as a single figure slowly walked among them. Sybbyl.
There were shouts of battle, screams of the wounded and dying, and the hated whispers of the nymphs. Edra turned her head as she searched for her beloved. She found him with his sword out, already soiled with the blood of the Gira. Their gazes locked. Too much distance separated them for her to get to him, or he to her.
They had created something beautiful, something amazing within the walls of the abbey. And while they had never been blessed with a child of their own, they had raised so many more, watching them grow to become strong, confident adults who would continue what the two of them had begun.
Radnar smiled and placed his hand over his heart. Edra blinked through the emotion that clogged her throat and put her hand over hers, as well. And then he was fighting once more, his sword swinging at a Gira that came at him.
Edra swiped at her tears and hastily said a spell that she’d crafted years ago to protect and keep out any Hunters that weren’t already at the abbey.
Then she turned her magic on Sybbyl.
A shiver ran down Synne’s spine. She stilled, her hearing picking up something in the distance. She listened intently, waiting for the faint sound to come again.
When it finally did, she realized it was coming from the direction of the abbey. It could be anything. And the abbey was a fortress. It would take someone with intense magic to be able to break through the spells and wards surrounding the structure.
The sound came again, making her heart miss a beat because she recognized the sound—a shout.
More importantly, it was a battle cry.
She hurriedly scampered down the tree so she could get to the abbey. If her people were in trouble, she was going to help. To her annoyance and frustration, her bow got hung up on a branch, something that hadn’t happened in years.
“Nay,” she whispered and struggled to free it.
Each time she thought it was loosened, it became caught again.
“Why?” she cried out to the trees. “I need to help my family.”
Finally, her weapon was released, and she hurriedly made it to the ground. A step later, her foot slipped between two protruding roots. She yanked at her leg, trying to wedge her foot free, but it was well and truly stuck.
She slammed her hands against the ground as her leg gave out and she fell forward. “Let me go!”
There was no doubt in her mind that something or someone was holding her there. All she knew was that her family was in trouble, and she needed to do something.
The more she tried to get free, the more lodged her foot became. Her arms crumpled as she fell to her side and pressed her forehead against the frigid ground as the sounds of battle grew louder.
“Nay,” she whispered.
Radnar released a war cry as he sliced off a Gira’s head. He didn’t think about how the beauty and peace of the abbey had been destroyed. All he focused on was killing the next thing that came at him.
He spotted Edra facing off against another witch that had to be Sybbyl. Radnar wanted to knock the black crown from the woman’s head, but no doubt Edra would beat him to it.
Radnar lifted his sword, the blade blocking magic from another Gira. It seemed that with each one he killed, a dozen more took its place. There were so many that their onslaught was overwhelming the knights and Hunters who tried to protect those who couldn’t fight themselves.
Radnar peeled back his lips as he thrust his blade with both hands into the chest of the nymph before yanking his sword free and spinning to lop off the arm of another Gira.
Three other knights gathered close to him. They shifted so that their backs were to each other to form a circle as they slew nymph after nymph.
Radnar wanted to look at his wife. He needed to see that she was all right. It had been years since she had gone up against the Coven, but her magic was strong. She was strong. She would win.
She had to win.
He refused to allow himself to think of any other outcome. Edra was his life. Everything he had done had been for her.
When he and the knights still on their feet got the throng of Gira under control around them, Radnar gave a nod to the two remaining knights and glanced around. His heart clutched at the dead innocents, especially the children.
Fury swiftly rose up in him. He ran toward a Gira, who had a hold of a young boy. Radnar pulled out a dagger with his left hand and threw it, embedding the blade in the nymph’s head and killing it instantly.
“Run,” he bade the lad as he rushed past on his way to Edra.
There was a smile on his lips when he found that his wife was holding her own against Sybbyl. But the grin faded when Sybbyl turned the staff on Edra and sent her flying backwards.
32
The urgency, the dread that rushed through Helena made her push aside the nausea that had a
ssaulted her upon their arrival. It was worse this time, having used the travel spell so soon after the first. Sweat beaded her skin, making it clammy, while her stomach roiled viciously.
But lives were at stake.
She wasn’t the only one who stumbled, bent over, or reached to grab a tree. All of them had been to the abbey, so they knew the way. And they were all looking in the direction of the hidden entrance, waiting to hear or see either friend or enemy.
The more time that passed without a sign of either only alarmed her further.
Helena straightened and set out for the abbey. After a few steps, she began jogging, then full-out running. Something urged her to get to the abbey immediately.
Though she managed to get her group close to the abbey, it felt as if it was an eternity later before she finally reached the entrance. As soon as she went through it, she came to a halt, her hand to her mouth as she took in the horror.
“By all that’s holy,” Malene murmured as she came to a stop beside her.
Jarin and Armir walked around them down the steps, their faces growing grimmer by the moment. Helena didn’t need to ask. She saw from the dead bodies on the stairs—both Gira and human—that the battle was long finished.
Helena looped her arm with Malene’s as they slowly followed Jarin and Armir. Then they turned and got a view of the grounds and the abbey where more dead awaited them. The men were already walking among the dead, looking for survivors.
The silence was the first thing that Helena noticed. She swallowed. “It was so full of life when I was here a few days ago.”
Helena released Malene and picked her way around and over the prone bodies. Tears clouded her vision when she saw the children. None of them asked who was responsible for the carnage. They knew it was Sybbyl.
As the four of them went their separate ways, searching for...anything, the hope and faith that Helena had once felt regarding being able to end Sybbyl diminished until the flame barely flickered.
Hunters, knights, and innocents were mixed with the Gira. But not one of the lifeless bodies was Sybbyl. Helena recognized the blacksmith, Berlaq, as well as a few of the Hunters and a knight that she’d met when she was there.
So far, she had yet to come across any ashes of witches or... Her thoughts halted when her gaze landed on Edra. Helena blinked, hoping that her eyes played tricks on her, but there was no denying who it was.
Helena went down on her knees beside the witch and gently moved a thick strand of blond hair from Edra’s face that was partially blackened like her clothes.
The witch was on her side, her arm reaching out. When Helena followed her hand and found it grasping Radnar’s, who reached out to his wife, the tears fell unimpeded down her face. Even in death, the two were bound together.
“Why is she not ash?”
Helena looked up at the sound of Armir’s voice and discovered that Jarin and Malene were also there. Jarin squatted beside her and took her hand in his.
“I held out such hope,” Malene whispered, sorrow filling her voice.
Helena swallowed as Edra’s cheek caved in, disintegrating. A moment later, the rest of her body became ash and floated upon the wind, leaving Radnar eternally reaching for her.
Grief and sadness gave way to rage. Helena got to her feet and looked around. “Did anyone here survive?”
“If they did, they’re long gone,” Jarin replied.
Armir’s nostrils flared as he looked around. “There is nothing alive here other than us. The Gira even killed the animals.”
Helena opened her mouth to speak when she saw movement near the entrance. She turned and spotted Synne. The Hunter let loose such a bellow of profound grief as she fell to her knees that it brought another wave of tears to Helena.
Jarin started toward the Hunter, who had an arrow notched and aimed at him in less than a heartbeat. He held up his hands and halted. “Synne. You know me.”
“Why did you not stop this?” she demanded.
Helena moved around Malene and went to stand beside Jarin. She could barely look into the stricken face of the Hunter. “We just arrived.”
“Why did you not stop this?” Synne yelled a second time.
“I—” Helena began.
But Malene put her hand on her arm as she walked past. “Because while we have magic, we cannot control things. Helena fought Sybbyl, and she was winning, but Sybbyl left.”
“To come here,” the Hunter stated as tears fell down her cheek.
Armir said, “Let us help you bury the dead.”
Synne lowered the bow and returned the arrow to her quiver. Then she got to her feet and shook her head. “We burn them. Radnar once told me that was what he wanted, so he could be with Edra forever.”
“Where do you want to do it?” Malene asked.
Synne sniffed and pointed to the area near the abbey itself. She then looped her bow over her arm and went to the body nearest her, but Jarin was at her side before she could lift it.
“Nay. Armir and I have this,” he told her.
Synne stood numbly, looking so alone that it broke Helena’s heart. She made her way to the Hunter and wrapped her arm around her. Helena blamed herself. Had she stopped Sybbyl, none of this would have happened.
The silent tears Synne cried as she watched Jarin and Armir gently gather the bodies and lay them out while Malene used magic to remove the Gira’s corpses was something Helena would remember for the rest of her life.
With Armir, Jarin, and Malene’s magic, it took little time for each person to have their own funeral pyre. Malene made Radnar’s the tallest.
The five of them stood together as Malene held out a palm, the blue radiance shining brightly. The sun was gone, and twilight fell over the land. With one word from the Lady of the Varroki, the pyres caught flame simultaneously.
Helena was glad that she had gotten to meet Edra and Radnar, that she had seen the incredible clan the two had created together. But she hated that they were gone.
The fires burned as night descended, and as the sparks flew into the sky, all she could think about was Radnar’s ashes mingling with Edra’s so the two could be together in death as they had been in life.
Jarin’s fingers brushed against hers, and Helena didn’t hesitate to clutch them. Her heart was heavy, the grief only outweighed by her anger.
Not one of them moved until the last of the fires had gone out just as dawn arrived. Synne was the first to walk away. She disappeared into the abbey and remained there.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Malene said.
Helena looked over to discover that Malene was talking to her. “What is that?”
“That it’s your fault Sybbyl got away,” Armir finished.
Jarin moved to stand before her. “It isn’t, you know.”
She forced a smile. “I appreciate what you all are trying to do, but the facts remain. Had I been able to finish Sybbyl, then everyone here would still be alive.”
“Do not carry the weight of these dead,” Armir cautioned. “They will grow too heavy. And everyone here knew the risks. Nobody more than Edra and Radnar.”
When Jarin tugged at her hand, Helena let him lead her down the steps and across the open area where the knights used to train. They walked past the blacksmith’s shop and armory, near the stable, and beyond the gardens to wander back into the woods.
He didn’t stop until they reached the river. The moon reflecting off the water was a beautiful sight to behold. She looked over at Jarin’s profile.
His head turned to her before he shifted to face her. Jarin took her hands in his. “Are you thinking about going after Sybbyl?”
“Nay. Though, I will. My thoughts are centered on something—someone—much closer. You.”
One side of his lips curved upward. “We have not had much of a chance to talk.”
“That’s true. So much has happened since the night we lay together. I know you have duties to see to, and I’m sure—”
She didn’t
get another word out as Jarin claimed her lips. The kiss began softly, but soon turned hungry, each trying to get closer to the other.
Helena moaned when his fingers tangled in her hair and he pulled her head back to kiss down her neck. Her body was on fire for his touch, to have him deep inside her once more.
When he lifted his head, his breathing was heavy. It took a great effort for her to open her eyes, but when she saw the hunger in his, it made her stomach flutter.
“I want you,” he said. “I have craved your touch from the moment you opened those green eyes and saw me. I have no property and little coin, but I know what is in my heart. And it’s you. I love you, Helena.”
She put her hand on his cheek. “The only thing I want, the only thing I’ll ever need is you. We will make our own home because that is what people do when they love each other.”
His smile made her breath catch, but in the next instant, the hunger was back. He turned her, pressing her against a tree as their lips came together.
Their fingers fumbled with each other’s clothing before Jarin let out a long curse. Helena laughed and made their clothes vanish. She didn’t feel the cold, not with his hot body against hers.
His fingers caressed down her face as he searched her eyes. “Do you really want to be mine?”
“More than anything.”
He carefully placed his hand on her stomach. “And we’re going to have a bairn.”
She blinked, the tears those of happiness this time. “Aye, my love.”
“Blackglade will need us.”
“Then that is where we shall go. It is where our child will be born. Then your father will be able to hold him or her.”
Jarin stilled. “My father?”
“Armir took me to meet Bjorn. He is very proud of you. And...I saw the rune on the hearth. Family is everything.”
A muscle tensed in his jaw, and his gaze intensified. He yanked Helena against him, kissing her deeply as he lifted her and turned. He went down on one knee, then the other before he sat back.
