Page 62 of The Unbound Witch

My mother raised her head and continued. “When the queen died, your magic returned. Slowly at first, but it grew. The plan was to make you seem like a silenced witch, so absolute that even a spell other witches might cast for detection would never be able to sense your magic. In order to do that, the queen had to give you a portion of her own power. That deep well must still sit within you. I’m sure of it. She only told me she used a place of power beneath the blood moon to perform her strange magic. That is all. And that’s all it ever was supposed to be until she died. And then everything was ruined.”

It was my turn to step away, nearing the door. “Just because my life didn’t go according to your plan doesn’t mean it was ruined. I have to go now. When Nikos comes by tomorrow, tell him I’m in trouble and I need him.”

My father placed an arm around my mother’s shoulder. “We’ve always done what we thought was best. For you and for the coven, Raven. You cannot fault us for being imperfect. I’m happy to hear you haven’t lost faith in Nikos. Someday, you will understand our choices as well.”

I nodded. “Maybe someday.”

Kirsi looped her arm in mine. It must have taken immense concentration to do as she spun us toward the door, the phantom tendrils of her hair reflecting no light as I swung it open.

The moment we were outside, she whispered, “You should have let me scare them.”

“There’s still time.”

She huffed a laugh and tilted her head toward the back. “I found it. Had to throw it out the window.”

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t a waste of time,” I muttered, circling my parents’ house to collect the little tin box Kirsi helped me steal.

We left the cottage behind, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever return.

“Of all the things, they really didn’t want to tell you the queen had given you some of her power when she hid your markings and bound your magic. Why would that matter now?”

I pressed my hand to my head, the ever-looming headache swelling, pushing behind my eyes as I ran my fingers over the tin box now tucked in my deep dress pocket. “Bastian’s mother was very powerful. That’s part of the reason his dad selected her as his bride to end the war. They would never want me to be confident. Confidence is the same as recklessness in their minds. Confidence could lead me to combat the coven leaders, and Goddess knows we can’t have that.”

“At least not until we get our hands on Nikos to find those bitches.” Kir smirked.

I shrugged, grateful she hadn’t mentioned my headache. “I’m sorry we didn’t really learn anything new about the Harrowing. Such a waste of time.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Rave. We didn’t go there expecting to learn anything. But now, we know the queen bound your power before she died. We know whatever she did was to protect you, and we know she would have given anything for her son. Your power,herpower, is a gift. Which only tells me you’re going to need that. What if going to the human lands unbound the queen’s hold on her power within you? We know that hold has been fading for a while, but maybe it’s gone now. Permanently. Maybe that’s why you were so sick. Because the magic was freed but with nowhere to go it just festered beneath.”

“Maybe,” I whispered, unwilling to tell her she was wrong.

The magic was deeper, for sure, a sitting storm within me. That swell had been there for a long time, though, since I was given the death spell and forced to use it. I was never chosen by the goddess to be something to change the world. I was selected by a queen with a vision and a heart to protect her son. I was unmarked, but the second that death spell was cast, I was also unbound from whatever spell she’d wrapped around me. The question was, why was I still unmarked?

26

RAVEN

Leaving the small cluster of cottages behind, we stayed off the main cobblestone path, opting to hide within the tree line instead. Evening fell swiftly upon the Moon Coven, bringing a sweep of power through the chilled, late autumn air. Nearby homes nestled in the woods combated the cold with their fireplaces, sending the aroma of softly burning wood into the evening. It would have been nostalgic had I not feared who we might encounter. Fortunately, we hadn’t seen a soul since leaving my parents’ cottage.

The threat of Nikos was nearly debilitating, considering what happened last time I’d seen him, but now I knew to strike first and ask questions later. A lesson well learned. I no longer lived in a cruel world. I lived amongst cruel people who would spill blood, if only to enrich their own. My perception of everything around me had changed. The sharp points of the rocks lying dormant along a worn path, the poisonous horns of a toad, the thorns of a bush, the whims of a witch… No innocence remained, just the honed weapons crafted by a deadly existence.

A rustling of branches ahead drew me to a quick stop. I exchanged a single glance with Kir before she vanished. Arms raised, I would not be unprepared. The tightly wound coil of magic within me sat taut, ready to strike. Catching a glimpse of familiar orange hair, I nearly dropped my hands until a spell whipped passed me.

“Ender, stop. It’s me,” I hissed, hands still raised.

“Lucky for us,” a second voice said from behind me.

I whipped around to see Greer, Ender’s older sister, standing with a ball of light suspended between her hands. Without giving her a second to consider throwing that ball at me, I cast, sending her flying backward, crashing into a tree. Her body slumped to the ground as I whirled, facing a pallid Ender.

“We were in the first part of the Trials together. You’ve known me forever. I am not your enemy.” Magic surged through my veins in warning like lightning charging before an electrical storm. “I will not hold back, Ender.”

“Too much time with the Dark King,” she mocked, hands falling to her side.

“The king is dead. I killed him myself. But he was never the villain. The coven leaders that hide behind their lies and spit venom into vulnerable crowds are the only enemies of this world.” I took a step away, hands still raised, wondering where Kir might be. Maybe I’d said too much, had marked myself a traitor by condemning the coven leaders. “Who sent you?”

Her eyes lit with mischief as she looked over my shoulder. Too late, I whipped around to see Greer pulling to her feet, mid-cast. A gust of wind slammed into me. I stumbled backward. Kirsi popped into view between us, her arms crossed over her translucent chest as she stared at a witch that had once been a good friend of hers.

“Boo.”