Page 76 of Traitor Witch

Strangely, now I’m in the thick of things, my fight or flight has finally kicked in. My brain is crystalline with focus as every healing spell in my limited repertoire rushes straight to the front of my mind, drowning out the sight of the black clouds and the cliffs looming in my peripheral vision.

I can’t heal something this big. But I don’t need to.

He’s an immortal.

All I have to do is get Val conscious enough that he can steer the boat and his immortality will fix this for me.

“Mother Moon,” I begin, and am rewarded with an instant pulse of power. “Grant me the power of compulsion.”

The wind rips away my words, but I see Cas’s head turn sharply in my direction for a split second before the glow of the Goddess’s magic envelops Val and me like a cloak.

“Wake up.” I put as much force into my words as I can.

I’m rewarded when Val’s eyes snap open, his lips parting on a gasp of pain.

“Get up, fix the boat, and sail us the fuck out of here.” I can feel the magic pulsing through me, reassuring me.

It makes me feel stronger, better.

Less afraid than I was just moments ago.

Val moves like a robot, climbing to his feet and taking the wheel from Kier. His skin lights up with inky-purple mage symbols which flicker across the hull at the same time. The mast rights itself, the charring fading away under Val’s command.

And as the ship pulls itself back together, his wounds start to fade.

The burns start to heal.

The rest of the crew sag in relief, but the storm isn’t over. More lightning flashes around us, and a huge wave looms over theDeadwood.

Val’s heading straight for the damned thing.

The glow of witch magic is fading, replaced by his own as he fights against me.

“I’m trying to help you, idiot!” I yell, but he ignores me.

The feeling of my magic being forced out is like a punch to the gut. The glow fades just as we smash through the next wave.

“Rogue wave!” Val yells.

I have no idea what that means, and I pay for it when water surges over the edge, taking me with it.

I flail blindly, reaching out to catch hold of anything.

There’s nothing.

Then I hit the ocean.

There’s no air left in my lungs, and my mouth opens on a silent scream, earning me a lungful of water as I try to breathe.

The roiling storm drags me further beneath the waves, then tosses me around like a rag doll. I can’t tell which direction is up, and which is down. Even if I could, I can’t seem to move. My flailing limbs are doing nothing to help.

My vision gets darker around the edges, and I choke on another mouthful of foul water.

I’m suffocating.

Drowning.

Consumed by the cold, raging ocean.