“The Orion League captured covens of witches and extracted their secrets,” said Agnes. “In doing so, they learned of how to summon the Ancients.”
“And imprison them. Like in the lab.” My stomach lurched. “So did the Hemlocks end up cursed because of what the League did?”
“In part, yes,” said Agnes. “At the same time as the League’s rise, a tyrannical dragon shifter rose to power by using the Moonbeam to start a war between the dragon clans. It ended in bloodshed that left both realms scarred. The dragons left this realm, and my sister was captured and later killed.”
“I’m sorry.” Agnes had lost so much more than I’d realised. She’d been as deeply involved in the inter-realm conflicts as the Hemlocks had. “Did the Ancients blame the witches for what the League forced them to do?”
“Not quite,” she said. “When the war started, the spirit lines began to fracture. The Devourer, cast into the Abyss by the Sidhe of Faerie, awoke and set his sights on Earth. As a result, the Hemlocks were forced to use the full extent of their magic to create an elaborate binding spell to keep the Devourer and his fellow Ancients out of this world. In doing so, their leader, Cordelia, invoked a powerful curse to give up her life to keep the binding alive.”
“And it didn’t just affect her.” The world outside seemed silent, as though a bubble encased the three of us. “It spread to the others, too.”
Agnes inclined her head. “By the time of the faerie invasion, we were all aware that the person who became the next leader of the Hemlock Coven would also suffer the curse. By coven law, in order for the Hemlocks to officially exist, there needed to be three living members.”
“But they all died in the invasion,” I said quietly. “Right?”
“Yes,” she said. “They died, and the last remaining option was to volunteer the lone survivor to bear the burden alone. It was never supposed to be this way.”
The implied apology in her tone made sorrow well within me. I was never meant to be the sacrifice. If things had been different—if my fellow witches had survived—then I might not be in this position, forced to give up my life to help a coven who’d never wanted me.
“Isn’t there another way to beat the Devourer?” I kept my eyes on my feet. “Evelyn seems to think there is. If she kills the Devourer, then the curse is irrelevant, right?”
“If it were that simple, another witch would have done the same.” Agnes shook her head. “The curse used to come on gradually, with time. If it’s affecting you so fast, it’s because the Hemlocks’ defences on the forest are weakening and they need another coven leader to join them.”
“I don’t have their magic.” Alarm flickered inside me. “Besides, Evelyn thinks she’s entitled to take all the Hemlocks’ magic for herself. If she did, that would free the Devourer, wouldn’t it?”
“Evelyn believes that when she takes back the Hemlocks’ magic, she will have all the power she needs to achieve her goal,” said Agnes. “She is mistaken. Even as a child, she believed the Hemlocks were cowards to sacrifice themselves instead of going to war. If they had, though, countless lives would have been lost, and a tragedy on the same level as the faerie invasion would have sundered the realms.”
“She might be able to defeat the Devourer, though,” I said. “Because she plans to make herself immortal.”
Agnes cursed under her breath. “Said that, did she?”
“I worked it out.” I glanced at Isabel, whose face was ashen. “She needs to kill an Ancient to do it, and she already has one on her side. I also heard she might be looking for some kind of wellspring of power. Is that the source of my coven’s magic?”
“It used to be,” said Agnes. “Jas… this might be little consolation to you, but if the curse is affecting you, you must still have access to your Hemlock magic. Can I see the mark?”
“Evelyn sealed my powers.” I held out my wrist, pushing up the sleeve. “The only time I managed to use my magic was when I was right up close to her. Can the mark be undone?”
“Considering the curse is still in effect?” said Agnes. “Yes, I suspect it can, but when it is, the curse is likely to speed up, not slow down. It’s up to you whether to risk it or not.”
My stomach sank. I’d rather escape with my life, freedom and sanity intact, but unless I stopped Evelyn, nobody would get out alive.
And no matter what, I was destined to end up cursed in that forest along with the other Hemlocks.
“The spirit lines are splitting,” Agnes added, as Isabel looked on, her mouth tight with concern. “I can only postpone the curse, not prevent it altogether. As for the binding, there’s one way to undo it, but it carries a great risk.”
“And the Hemlocks are the only people who can beat the Devourer?” I asked. “For certain?”
“Yes,” said Agnes. “I’m sorry. So, do you wish to undo the binding?”
I took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll do it.”
12
I stood on the spirit line, replaying Agnes’s words in my mind.
My Hemlock magic, she’d said, was linked to the spirit lines themselves whether Evelyn was around or not. I’d found my way to the Hemlocks’ forest once before, so the path through wasn’t completely cut off from this world. I just needed assistance to make the crossing.
Isabel walked up to my side. “These are all I could find.”
I held out a hand and she scattered a handful of dust into my palm. “What’s this?”
“Bits of spell residue from the hotel room, when you used your magic,” she said.
I blinked at her. “You mean from months ago?”
She gave a tight smile. “Spells always leave a mark, and I can tell the difference between my own spell traces and another witch’s.”
I closed my fingers over the dust, recalling the vivid sensation of my Hemlock magic flooding my veins. The fresh amplifying rune Asher had drawn on my wrist glowed when Isabel pressed her fingertips to it. Her magic brushed against me, in the hope of teasing out mine.
I kept my gaze ahead, searching for the underlying currents of energy I knew were still there. A spark appeared, growing into a vivid stream of light. The spirit line.
My spirit line.
Then the forest flew at me, and I crashed into free-fall.
I ran down a hillside, my hair streaming behind me and my feet pounding on the grass. I wouldn’t have known it was the other realm without the landmarks because it was free of fog, the sky was clear, and the shape of a city was visible among the hills, marked by twin gold statues at the entrance.
The dragons’ city.
A little girl hurried along behind me, struggling to keep up. “Evie, where are you going? You promised you wouldn’t.”
“I have to, Leila.”
Leila. She was maybe four at most. Which made me—Evelyn.
The two witches ran downhill, past another golden statue of a dragon. Evelyn led the way, following a trail along the grassy slope. Not far off lay a mound, and when Evelyn walked around the edge, the grass came to a halt, revealing the opening to a cave.
Within, a torrent of magic swirled, vivid green in colour. I mentally matched the location with the X on the map. This must be the wellspring, the original source of the Hemlocks’ power.
I held my breath, both Jas and Evelyn at once as our hands touched the drifting currents of magic, the energy’s flow bathing us in green light.
“You’re not supposed to do that,” Leila hissed.
“Cordelia will understand.” Evelyn and I moved further into the cave, letting the swirling currents wash over us. “I want us to take back our magic before they steal it from us.”
The sound of beating wings made me drop my hands. Leila let out a startled gasp, and two thumps in front of the cave heralded the arrival of a pair of dragon shifters—scaled, majestic beasts, tails swishing, bright scales gleaming the same vivid blue as the sky. I turned away from the source to face the new arrivals, my heart drumming against my ribcage.
“Yes, it is,” I said. “It belongs to my coven.”
“It belongs to the gods,” he said. “To us.”
“You aren’t gods.”
“We will be,” he said. “Soon.”
I stepped out of the cave and raised my head high. “I want to see my parents. I know you have them.”
The second dragon shifter turned into human form to match the first. “Your parents are witches, aren’t they? Don’t worry. We treat our guests well.”
My hands clenched. “They didn’t choose to come here. You kidnapped them.”
“Evie,” hissed Leila. “Be quiet.”
The two dragons exchanged glances. “That’s quite the accusation to make,” said the burly man on the left. “I dislike harming children. If you wish to see your family again, I’d suggest you leave.”
I stood my ground. “I won’t.”
Leila hid behind me. “Evie, stop!”
The dragon shifter on the right stepped closer to me. Smaller than the first, but with similar auburn hair and ashy grey eyes, he looked me up and down, his nostrils flaring. “You smell of talent, witchling. You’re their favourite, aren’t you? Maybe we do have a use for you.”
I took two steps closer to them and said clearly, enunciating every syllable: “Let my parents go.”
“I wouldn’t push your luck, child.” His gaze slid to Leila. “If your parents are good, we’ll return them to you in one piece. But you shouldn’t be here, messing with our magic.”
The wellspring surged to life behind me. My hands crackled with static. “This magic is mine.”
“The witchling lays claim to the power of the gods,” said the dragon on the left. “Shall we see what the gods have to say to that?”
A terrible screech rent the air. I raised my eyes to the sky, where the shapes of countless dragons blotted out the clouds. An army. “What is going on?”
“You’re unaware you stepped into the middle of a war, child?” The right-hand dragon shifter shook his head. “If you stay here, we’re not responsible for any trouble you might run into. This is a battlefield, not a playground.”
“My parents are in there.” I waved a hand in the direction of the dragons’ city, and magic sparked in my fingertips, drawn from the wellspring.
The dragon shifters both took a step backwards. Leila nudged me in the arm, her voice frantic. “It’s moving. Evie, get out!”
“What—” I turned to the wellspring, which had surged to life, currents of power igniting like electric cables snaking in the air.
One of the dragons swore. “I told you we shouldn’t have let her live. We’re not ready—Lorne isn’t ready to wake them yet.”
“Who—” The energy currents pulled taut, like elastic, and a crack appeared in the sky, growing larger. And inside—
Something was watching me. Something with a huge, silvery eye, gleaming with dark intelligence. I stared in horror, rooted to the spot, while Leila hunched in a ball, arms wrapped around her knees.
“You can't control the Ancients,” I whispered. “How—”
The crack in the world grew larger, revealing a huge, scaled head to match the giant eye. Power crackled around its edges, raw, primal, and terrifying.
“They say the time of the gods has long since passed,” said one of the dragons, his eyes glowing the colour of twin flames. “I believe the time has come for us to usher in a new age, aided by the gods themselves. Lorne believes it, too. You had your chance to run, child. Now you will witness our rebirth.”
The giant eye blinked, and a torrent of hatred slapped me in the face. The creature in the sky hated the dragons—and hated the witches for disturbing its slumber.
A current of energy surged from the beast’s maw, towards the city. One current became two, rippling through the sky, splitting into a dozen more. Lightning bolts rained down on the stone houses—not ordinary lightning, but whatever dark magic that beast possessed, wild and destructive and out of control.
“My parents are in there!” I screamed. “They’re not like you dragons—they can’t fly. Stop that god!”
My hands blazed with magic as the wellspring ignited once again. All I could hear was Leila’s screaming, my screaming—
Then… silence.
I knelt on the mossy floor of a cave. My hands were bloody, bruised. Threads of green light, formed of interlocking symbols, surrounded me.
“Your parents didn’t survive,” said Cordelia.
She sat on a tree stump. I'd never seen her as human, but her craggy features weren't all that different to the rock wall behind her. Her grey hair hung lank, and her face was gaunt, exhausted.
My head bowed. Grief choked me. “They killed my parents.”
“They gave their lives to protect us.”
I raised my head, fists clenched. “They were murdered.”
“In death, they delayed the rise of the gods, and that is how they will be remembered,” said Cordelia. “However, what the dragon shifters did damaged the spirit lines beyond what our magic can repair.”
She held up a hand, which was covered in odd grey-brown patches. My throat felt like sandpaper when I whispered, “What do you mean?”
“I invoked one of our most powerful curses,” she went on. “We could not defeat the Ancients, so we were forced to contain them, trapping them beyond our realm. The wellspring’s magic could only do so much. And now… we must pay the price.”
“We already paid.” My voice cracked. “They died. The gods killed my parents, and they’ll come to Earth, too. I can’t stop them—”
“You can,” she said. “If you’re lucky, the curse will end with us.”
“Some of the gods are still alive,” I argued. “I want to kill them.”
“We were never supposed to be warriors, Evelyn.” Her voice was soft, gentle, and didn’t sound like the Cordelia I knew. “But the time of using the spirit lines to travel is over. The dragons are going to drive themselves to extinction.”
“They’d deserve it,” I said, with feeling. “They all deserve to die.”
“The good news is that Leila survived,” she said, as though I hadn’t spoken. “You won’t suffer lasting damage, Evelyn, but the wellspring… it has touched you. For the rest of your life, part of it will live within you, always seeking its source.”
“I can’t ever go back,” I whispered. “Right?”
Cordelia’s words were gentle, but Evelyn’s memories rose like bitter water, threatening to swallow me whole. Her parents, dead. Her family, cursed. A piece of magic inside her that would never be satiated…
That was why they’d saved her. Because without her, their coven would truly die out.
I pressed my fingers to my forehead, trying to stifle the flood of memories. The world flickered, then vanished.
“Jacinda.”
I lifted my head. I lay on my back in the cave. Maybe I’d been there all along.
“Well,” I said, my throat parched and my hands trembling, “that explains a lot.”
The Hemlocks’ contentious relationship with Evelyn. Their irrational trust in her to make the right decision. The way they’d spared her over and over again, deflecting blame at the only other available target… me.
Cordelia looked down at me. After seeing her as human, it should have been jarring to see her trapped in wood and stone again, but my insides felt numb.
“I do not expect forgiveness,” Cordelia said quietly. “Only understanding.”
“I understand, all right,” I said. “So that’s what Evelyn wants. The wellspring. Except most of its magic ended up in here instead, didn’t it?”
I pointed to the cave wall, to the spot where the trap containing the Ancients was concealed.
“Correct,” she said.
“And she wants to unravel your magic to get the power back, kill the Ancients and avenge her family,” I said. “R
ight?”
“Yes, Jas,” said Cordelia. “If she cannot be persuaded—”
“We’re past that,” I said. “All I can do is keep getting in her way, and as long as she has all the Hemlock magic and I have none, I’m at a disadvantage. Agnes said you can undo this.”
I held up my arm, showing the unbinding rune.
“There is only one who can destroy that spell.”
The glyphs on the walls peeled back, revealing the giant eye of the sleeping beast. I sucked in a breath, overcome by the power pouring out of the gaping hole in reality. My throat closed up, my heart seeming to swell to ten times its size. Fighting the instinct to run, I kept my gaze on Cordelia. “He doesn’t look like he’s ready to help me.”
“The Devourer destroys all magic it touches,” she said. “The only exception is ours, because our magic is formed from life. It replenishes as quickly as it is destroyed.”
Given what I’d seen of that dark lightning striking down the dragons’ city, I could believe it. Cold fear clamped my lungs as the glyphs on the cave walls continued to peel back like thin curtains, revealing more of the empty void surrounding the sleeping beast. The Devourer was more than twice the size of a dragon shifter, even curled in on itself, its tail wrapped around its paws. Its scales were midnight black, the kind of blackness that seemed to draw in all other colours, all other life, until nothing remained but emptiness. The Devourer was aptly named.
Cold air blew into the cave from the abyss, and I wrenched my gaze away from the beast. “I won’t be able to breathe if I step into that hole, will I? There’s no oxygen in there.”
“You won’t need to,” said Cordelia. “Our magic encases the sleeping beast, and it will not let you suffocate.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I took an unsteady step. For an instant, my foot plunged into emptiness, then my body floated, buoyed up in the air as though I’d stepped into an anti-gravity room.
Good. I wasn’t going to fall to my death, then.
In front of me, the sleeping beast lay in a deep endless sky with no stars, no light. If not for the swirling threads of the Hemlocks’ magic permeating everything, I would never have been able to see where I was going. Worse, two other beasts lay curled behind the first, their bodies suspended in the air. There are three of them?
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