Page 139 of Traitor Witch

"They might have. But who would dare go against the Eagle of Galmere? The shifters? They were decimated by the wraiths. Only a few remain, and most of them are small, non-predatory species. Most of the vampire queens spend their time squabbling between themselves and care nothing for the affairs of their food as long as it's readily available. The fae have their own realms, far away where the Queen has no interest in going. The sirens put up a fight in the beginning, but they've always been isolated. Their numbers have been decimated over the years, they're too weakened to be of any help now."

"And the elixir, it just grants humans immortality?"

"If you can get in and out of the spirit world before I can blink I'll tell you more about it."

I grimace, but she has me hooked.

It takes several attempts, and I'm sweating even worse when I finally manage it, but Petra finally nods.

"It's only temporary but, when taken regularly, it grants humans immortality. Along with some of the perks. Imagine a creature with the speed of a vampire, the strength of a shifter, and even a siren's ability to breathe underwater. There are reports that the Eagle of Galmere even has some basic mage powers and the truth-telling ability of a fae. Though she didn't use either of those against me when we fought. But to create such a potion requires heinous sacrifices. Parts of each immortal."

"Like siren scales and fae dust," I finish. "What do they take from the others? Does theDeadwoodsmuggle all of the ingredients?"

Petra just cocks her head to one side.

I sigh and get back to stepping into the spirit plane.

When I step out this time, I fling a dagger at her for good measure.

Petra part-steps into the spirit realm, the spot where my dagger would have made contact flashing between planes. Letting the blade sail straight through her body.

Damn. I still wish I could master that.

"If you're so eager to get to stabbing things..." Petra becomes fully corporeal again and makes a fist.

When she opens her hand, a small throwing knife glows in the centre of her palm.

Not the silver of moonlight, or the gold of sunlight.

The pure darkness that surrounds the metal is not of this realm.

"Spirit blades." Petra tosses it into the air and catches it easily. "The slightest scratch will kill, a stab to the heart will turn your enemy to dust. It's possible to bind the same kind of power to an athame, but summoning them is faster andless cumbersome. Useful, should you find yourself weaponless or needing to dispose of a body."

She flicks the knife at me. No warning. Not even a subtle tensing of her muscles to indicate what she's about to do.

I dodge—barely—cursing as I roll out of the way. When the blade clatters to the ground behind me I grab for it.

The unearthly darkness is gone. The knife with it.

"They return to the spirit realm once used. Now. Summon one."

I don't comply immediately. Petra always does this: demonstrates, and then expects me to figure things out for myself.

It prolongs the torture.

Thankfully, this one seems pretty simple. The sigil witch inked a sigil for blades among the handful of sigils on my spine.

So I send power into it.

A blade materialises, but I can't hold it. It clatters straight to the floor and disappears.

Petra snorts.

Shit.

It takes a few more attempts, playing with multiple combinations of sigils to figure out what I have to do.

By the time I manage to throw it back at Petra, she's gotten so bored that she's sitting on the railing overlooking the sea. She catches the blade and throws it aside without even looking.