Page 96 of The Unbound Witch
A match and then a candle lit in the back of the room, illuminating Circe’s round face. Heart dropping into my stomach, I cringed as Willow laughed behind me. She’d betrayed us. And we’d known it was going to happen. We knew we needed to get to this hut, regardless of the circumstances, but the fact that she thought she’d won, outsmarted us somehow, irritated me.
“Will you fight me for them?” Circe asked, as more candles lit around the dark room, revealing the faces of several old swamp witches.
“I’m honestly surprised you know how to light those candles without magic,” I said, taunting, though I had no right.
“There are many things about the swamp witches that might surprise you, Raven Moonstone,” Circe said. “Did you know they found a way around starving by eating the creatures of the swamp? And when those ran out, they turned on each other.”
One of the witches ran her tongue over her yellow teeth as she peered into my very soul with sharp black eyes. I stumbled backward, disgusted and terrified in equal measure. But Willow planted both of her hands on my back and shoved me forward so hard I fell to my knees. Grey flinched, but otherwise did not move to help me. In fact, he let loose a small laugh. I turned to glare at him.
One of the others, a man, tilted his head to an eerie angle as he looked at Grey. “Why do you laugh?”
“I prefer to see the murderer of my king on her knees.” He smirked.
Circe slid forward, setting her candle on the table, the orange glow lighting the leather books that called to my heart. “You’re a good liar, but a liar all the same.”
I tried to stand, but the River Coven leader lunged for me. Fighting every instinct to cast her away, I let her come. Let her wrap her arm around mine, haul me to my feet and place a dagger to my neck.
“We’ll have to kill you the old-fashioned way, I’m afraid.”
“Why?” I asked, buying time, hoping Kirsi would be able to free Atlas.
“The moment you fought the death spell, I knew you were not the savior we hoped you were. Given every chance in the world to see our cause through, you failed. You failed when you looked at the Dark King during your mind Trial without an ounce of hatred. You failed when you refused to kill him. You failed when you killed him and didn’t—”
The door slammed open, and a giant white wolf surged into the room, soaring over me as he landed on a swamp witch and ripped into her throat with a ferocious growl. Atlas was a god damned beast. A glorious specimen of heart and loyalty. He’d been scratched deep on his face, but he seemed no worse for the wear as he snarled.
Chaos ensued. Grabbing the boned hilt of the knife at my throat, I planted my elbow into the gut of the River Coven leader. Willow screamed, but I knew one absolute truth. Those swamp witches wouldn’t have a clue what to do without the use of their own magic.
Circe may have ordered them not to cast, knowing what would happen, but the odds of them listening when threatened were not good. As soon as a witch’s life was at stake, she wouldn’t hesitate. We needed to separate the books quickly. I dove for the Grimoires, snatching them from the table and inching my way toward the door.
“Give me a book, Rave,” Kirsi said, popping into view. “Give me one and let me get it the fuck out of here.”
“How fast can you go?” I asked, a prickling, greedy part of my mind wanting to refuse.
“Faster than anyone else,” she promised. “Trust me.”
I nodded, pushing a book toward her. She soared out the door with the Moon Coven Grimoire and all I could do was pray she was faster than these witches were desperate. She’d always made a point to show me she was near when she was invisible, and times were dangerous. This time she hadn’t. She’d gone for backup and delivered. As she always, always did.
Torryn blocked the door, grabbing one of the witches by the throat and throwing her across the small hut. Circe had clambered away from me, attempting to hide behind the remaining swamp witches. No one had noticed the books were gone.
Bastian pulled me from the floor in one motion, pushing me behind him. “Stay back,” he commanded, pulling a knife from his belt.
I stared into Willow’s face for a split second, my eyes cutting to the scar. I raised my hands. “Don’t even think about it,” I warned. I wouldn’t have used magic, but she didn’t need to know that.
Jerking left and then right, Willow soared around me, hoping to take cover with Circe, but she didn’t give a shit about her. She shoved the moon witch toward Torryn with a grunt.
The inside of the cabin burst into a hue of orange and yellow, the sound of rushing fire filling the tiny war zone. A surge of flames licked up a dusty old curtain in the back of the cottage. One of the swamp witches must have started the place on fire in an attempt to escape. Smart really.
Smoke filled the space, ripping into my lungs as I twisted for the door. And then it happened. Someone in the swarm of the room cast water to put the fire out. It might have been instinct, it might have been suicidal, but as we all braced ourselves for impact, the explosion of magic didn’t come. Whatever happened, however far Kirsi had made it, was just enough.
In one fell swoop, everyone stopped. Realizing they had magic, the swamp witches closed in. Atlas was slammed against a wall and pinned there. Tor roared, his great form running full speed until he slammed into an old hag, having just enough time to pull his blade before someone cast a sphere of water around him. He struggled, gripping his throat. Drowning. Heart racing, I searched the faces of the four remaining witches.
A blast of magic struck me, yanking me forward, toward one of the swamp witches. Her eyes were wild as more and more of her markings began to glow green. I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t stop to think about the ramifications as I cast death upon her. The spell ripping from me as if it sucked my own life from my body as well as hers.
The world pulsed with a full charge of energy, the swell of power deafening the room as one moment the witch was standing and the next, she crumbled to the ground. I winced, waiting for the headache, the drip of blood from my nose, the raging sickness to take over, as if that had been what ailed me, but it didn’t. Whatever it was that was making me so sick, it wasn’t that spell. I felt more alive than I ever had. Invigorated and finally free of the bonds that held me, even if they were only loosened. The earth rumbled as I gathered my power again, the sky from beyond the window darkening. Anger and a demand for control took over as I ripped away the magical bonds that pinned Atlas to the wall in a fury I’d never known.
Circe made a move to cast upon Willow. “You brought them into my home.”
I should have let her cast. Let them settle their own battle, but I couldn’t. In one move, a simple flick of my wrist, Circe was dead as well.