Page 12 of The Path of Blood and Betrayals

Nafre shakes her head tiredly. “I will not allow water to go into the hands of Humans. Not when we might need it most.” She meets the eyes of every elder for a brief moment, willing them to understand. “We know how theyoperate. They are greedy. If they think they can have water, our only resource, they will try to overpower us. And we are already too weak to defend against another attack.”

“Then what?”

“Then we rely on our Coven blood.” Tay nods once, staring at the matron directly, as he continues, “Covens are required to help when requested by law. We might be the biggest Coven, but the others need us for trade as well. They’ll help if it helps themselves.”

A patron glares at me, nose in the air. “And what of her?”

“What of her?” Tay asks, eyes narrowed. I stay still, wishing I had my cloak to hide within.

“Should she be here?”

“She is allowed here, because I say so,” Nafre defends, walking to my side. “Anyone else have a comment to say?”

Thankfully, the elders keep quiet. But their looks are displeased.

At least no one mentioned my magic, or the soldiers I killed. I’m still trying to digest how easily my magic was able to do it, how ferocious it felt, like a beast devouring all the life it could find.

I didn’t want to appear like a monster, but maybe the Witches saw something I didn’t. My magic is evil.

A few guards run up toNafre, their dark purple tunics and copper-colored embellishments making them stand out against the soot and falling debris. Their alarmed faces catch my attention, hair on the back of my neck standing on edge.

“A missive, Matriarch,” one guard says, handing over a crumpled piece of burnt parchment.

Her white brows furrow, mouth frowning. “Did this just come?”

The guard who spoke nods. “It did. Once the raiders were gone, a scout appeared. He was on his way to us.”

Shifting, she unrolls it and scans the letter. Her bottom lip puckers, a trait she does when something vexes her. “It’s from King Griffin.”

“The Lone Human King?” I blurt out, mind hazy. The elders spare me a reproachful look, but Nafre nods.

“He’s asking for us to attenda peace summit. To band together and combat the Crimson Army.”

“Convenient,” Tay remarks dryly. Grey eyes narrow on the parchment over Nafre’sshoulder. “Only after we’re attacked, do we receive this summons. Where were they last winter when the storm destroyed our storehouse? Where were they when the livestock fell ill? It could be a trap.”

“Or Gods’ Will,” Cully says brightly. My body aches but I can’t help but smile at his upbeat personality. “Perhaps this is a sign? Pointing us in the right direction. Maybe for good things to come?”

Tay shakes his head, smiling despite the deep exhaustion lining his face.

Gods’ Will is a myth, with most believing things happened because the Gods were directing you toward where you were needed most. Fate. Divine intervention. Whatever you called it, that’s what it was.

If that were the case, I don’t think it would have directed me into the blade of a Crimson soldier at ten.

“Even if it were,” Nafre smoothly interrupts, “we can’t afford to lose anyone to attend. We have to rebuild.”

She’s not wrong. It’ll take every set of hands to help clean up the mess and rebuild the village. That’sifthe sister Covens can spare any resources to help.

Times are tough for the Covens. Trade is limited, demand low as the Humans hinder our growth. Only the Blackwoods Coven has a steady income due to the water we use in our potions.

If we had magic, things might be different. But it’s an old myth that magic once ran through our world. Now, Tay and I were oddities.

Taylay hums, fingers tapping on his pants in thought. “I can go.” He shrugs, ashis sisterglares. “Think about it. I’m not needed to lead, and we only need a small party to attend. The sister Covens will help secure our borders while we rebuild if requested.”

“That’s if they heed the call.”That’s a big if.“My need, as Matriarch, is to have you here.” She pointsto the scorched dirt for emphasis. “Helping me care for our people. Rebuilding our home. That is your duty.”

“This is a way to help us care for our people, Nafre.” He smiles gently. “If it’s truly a peace summit, it’ll be a great way to gather more help for our village. If it’s a trap, they’ll only have me.” He doesn’t have to say why this is a good thing.

If they take him, Nafre will still rule.