Page 110 of The Unbound Witch

We screamed his name over and over as we moved across the top of the sea filled with debris and drowning witches, swimming for their lives, though the sinking masses of land sucked them below like a wicked undertow. The dirt from the isle churned in the water, turning everything brown.

With our heads down, eyes squinting as the sun reflected off the water, we almost missed the black wings that soared in our direction. Cradling Raven in his arms, Bastian coasted beside us, his wings stretched so wide, I could hardly hear him over the sounds of the flapping. He’d revealed himself, then. As alive as he ever was.

“Tor’s missing,” he shouted. “Where’s Atlas?”

I couldn’t help the way my voice cracked when I spoke his name. “Atlas… is in the water somewhere.”

A woman directly below me screamed as the roof of a home pushed over the top of her. She tried to hang on, to climb on top of it, but she wasn’t strong enough and was gone within seconds.

“We have to send these two back to Crescent Cottage. I can cast a door, but you’ll have to jump,” he told Nym.

A flush of green crossed her face, but she nodded subtly, blocking her eyes to see over the unforgiving sun. Trying to find a white wolf in a raging ocean filled with debris while staring at the glaring sunlight’s reflection would be our downfall.

“Wait! Raven, can you calm the wind?” I yelled. “Or bring in clouds to block the sun so we can search the water?”

Bastian beat his wings several times, lifting them higher. I hadn’t heard her reply, couldn’t feel the wind to know if it had slowed. Only by the calmness over the sea did I notice the change. The witches in the water, crying out in relief, with one less battle to fight. Gray, billowing clouds moved in, covering the brightest light.

“They won’t hold,” Raven yelled. “It will either start to rain or they will dissipate, but that’s the best I can do.”

Bastian cast a door below us. Peering down, I could see the wooden plank floor of Crescent Cottage. I swooped.

Before Nym leapt, she reached for my face. “Find him. Whatever it takes.”

“I will,” I promised as she dropped into the shop.

Raven followed, her black cloak billowing as her arms stayed clutched around another Grimoire. Two books were in our store. I hated the thought of anyone being there with them after seeing what had happened with the isles. Someone had cast and decimated the land. It was the only explanation. But it was not just the land that had suffered. The death count only continued to grow. And while most Whisper Coven witches could use magic to move between their scattered islands in the sky, that didn’t mean many of them had the power to see them safely across the ocean.

“We should separate. Cover—”

Bastian jerked to the right, pulling in a wing to dodge a spell cast in his direction.

“You did this,” someone shouted. “You have always condemned us and now you’ve come back to see us—”

I snatched the fucker from the water, giving him a moment’s reprieve from swimming before racing toward the sky.

“Kirsi,” Bash yelled, soaring after me.

But I would not be deterred.

“If after all of this bullshit you’re still too blind to see the truth of your fucking coven leader, then you can go directly to hell.”

I released, watching that asshole fall and fall until he was seconds from crashing into the ocean. A door appeared below him and he vanished into some other world. Saved by the king he so quickly attacked.

“Now isnotthe time,” Bash said, before going completely still. So still, in fact, he dropped nearly into the water before opening his wings.

“Someone cast on Tor. That’s the only reason he could be missing when he could have flown out of danger. His feathers will look black in the water. You go that way and I’ll go this way. Meet me in the middle,” he said, dividing the debris in half with his hands.

There wasn’t an option for them to be gone. There just wasn’t. We’d find them both and get back to safety, and that’s all there was.

They’re alive. They’re alive.

Repeating the words in my mind, I scoured the clusters of things floating and moving, thinking of the gentle giant, Torryn. Of his deep voice and soft smile. The way he held onto Atlas on a raging ship caught in a storm and never faltered.

If Torryn saw Atlas in the water, he would have gone after him. It would absolutely be another reason why he was missing. I whipped around, searching the sky for Bastian, hoping he hadn’t put himself at the mercy of the witches floating on top of the debris. A small fleck of black wings swooped low. Sparks of magic flew through the air toward him. The Dark King, as I knew him, had to be using all forms of self restraint not to fight back. Too worried for his friends, he cast his shadows below him, sending them surging over the water to blind the witches.

I turned again, diving into the water, but I couldn’t see through it with all the dirt from the isles. Resurfacing, convinced it was too late, I almost didn’t hear the whimper. The slight sound of a pup, running out of steam.

“Atlas,” I screamed.