Page 25 of Liar Witch

“Bullshit. You need to kill her.”

There’s a moment where her eyelids droop, and for a second, I can’t help but panic. When they reopen, still glazed with pain, I let out a tiny sigh of relief.

“You are not like any Shadow I’ve ever trained,” Petra whispers. “In my bitterness, I believed that made you less than them. But maybe that’s why you survived when the others didn’t. Maybe that will be why you succeed.”

I go to interrupt, but she holds out a trembling hand to stop me.

“Our harems make us stronger. They give us something to fight for when we lose faith in ourselves.” Her breath hitches, pain flashing across her face for a second before Sophie lays a glowing hand over her arm and the wrinkles smooth out once more.

“It was wrong of me to send you to battle without yours. The Goddess sets them on our paths for a reason. Find them and together you will defeat her. I fear…” She takes another long breath where her eyes close once more and my heart stops. “I fear that this will be our last chance. The Eagle has come after us… her war is out in the open now. There is nothing to stop her from wiping out all of the remaining witches…”

The weight of the responsibility she’s putting on me feels like a noose around my neck. My throat is so dry I can’t speak, even if I wanted to.

“Go.” Petra’s voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear her. “Goddess bless her last Sha…”

Her silver eyes fix on me, and I see the exact moment she passes. In death, the Moon’s light leaves her eyes. The mystical glow that is the mark of a high priestess dissipates, leaving them a stony grey. Her familiar lets out a tiny, pitiful mew, licks her witch’s hand for the last time, then disappears, fading from existence with the rest of Petra’s magic.

I feel her death like a tangible force. The impact of it is like a magical shock wave that punches through my chest and leaves behind only shocked silence while my mind scrambles to come to terms with the haunting realisation that the last thing she saw in life was my terrified face.

In the room beyond, a murmuring starts up. A hundred whispered prayers blend into one, each spoken by the witches left behind as their fearless, blunt High Priestess finally leaves for the stars.

The selfish tears which burn at my eyes don’t fall. I refuse to let them. Instead, I whisper my own tiny prayer past the lump in my throat.

This is what Petra wanted. This is her peace. Her long awaited reunion with her mates.

I honour that truth with the smile it deserves.

“Goodbye, old friend,” Sophie whispers, bending forward to press a tiny kiss to the small upturned crescent mark on Petra’s forehead. “Be one with your Goddess and join your mates in Her stars.”

When she draws back, I can see her eyes are just as wet as mine.

“What—” I clear my throat to dispel the emotion lodged there. “What will you do now?”

“The witches will leave Sanctum,” Sophie announces, pulling the sheet over Petra’s face. “We’re just waiting for the wounded to be stable enough for transport, then we’ll burn our dead and leave for Coveton. It’s our last bastion of resistance.”

I want to rage at the unfairness of it all. Sanctum is a utopia. A place of freedom for witches that I don’t think can ever be replicated. That they’re leaving it seems so fundamentally wrong, it makes me want to scream.

“When this is over, we will come back,” Sophie vows, seeing my expression. “This was Petra’s mission, we will—” Her voice catches. “We will see that witches always have a sanctuary, no matter what happens next.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“What about Mother Solar Elodie in Ilyani?”

“I’m sending riders to them, but the Castlemans have their stronghold there…”

She doesn’t need to finish the rest. Any Solars who remain in the city are in danger.

There’s a soft, muted knock on the door, and Sophie turns to face the newcomer. It’s a Solar I’ve not met before, and I wince as I notice how worn out she looks.

“Mother Solar, some of the Shadow’s harem have arrived. We’re guiding their ship to the docks now.”

Sophie doesn’t look surprised, and I suppose I should have expected that they’d follow.

“Thank you, Lacey. Please prepare Mother Lunar for her funeral, then try to get some rest.”

The Solar bows and leaves with Sophie following close behind. I take a last look at Petra’s covered body, then take the cloth-bound book from the side and hurry after them.

Kier and Cas are waiting outside of the house for me. My fae looks as inscrutable as ever, but Cas’s appearance makes me want to giggle, despite the circumstances. The shifter is dripping wet, wearing a pair of trousers that are so tight that it’s clear they don’t belong to him. I don’t get the chance to appreciate what little is left to the imagination by the soaking, tight fabric, because they’re not alone.