Page 38 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

NILSA

I make a beeline straight for my quarters.

There's already a saddlebag packed on the bed, but I ignore it in favour of the bathroom. I rush through my shower, only allowing myself a few minutes under the spray to wash the sweat off my skin before I step out and pull on a short, wispy dress and a set of ass-kicking boots, complete with built in knife sheaths. All black, all designed to help me blend with the darkness if I need to.

I add a few more weapons, then survey what's been left out for me on the bed. A handful of moon shaped amulets, carved from bone and charged with power, have been laid out on the sheets. I tuck them into one of the pockets on my belt for later before turning my attention to the bags.

Of course, that means evicting Opal, who's taken my shower as her cue to curl up on top of them for a nap.

Her disgruntled grumbles fill my ears as I rifle through the contents, but I ignore her. Eventually, she hops up onto my neck, claws digging in to punish me for waking her up .

Food. A spare set of clothes. A cloak. Water. All the standard things for a long journey. But there's one last thing I can't leave without. I abandon the bag and turn my attention to the chest at the bottom of the bed.

No matter how much I dig through the junk inside, Glenna's athame isn't there.

The stone doesn't have time to fully settle in my stomach before a quiet voice cuts through the silence.

"Looking for this?"

Reva's standing in the doorway, twirling Glenna's athame in her hands with a thoughtful expression.

I snatch the blade away from her and start checking it over, my glower letting her know exactly what I think of her taking it.

Why did she take it? And where? How long had it been gone? I can't see anything different about it. Perhaps it's a little cleaner, she's definitely had it sharpened. The moonstones in the handle are definitely brighter.

I can't believe she took it just to get it cleaned out of the goodness of her heart. If she'd taken all my knives, maybe it would have been plausible, but just the athame and none of my other blades? But I already know she won't tell me anything if I ask. Reva is as cagey and stubborn as I am.

No, I'm going to have to figure it out for myself.

She ignores my expression and moves further into the room, closing the door behind her. "A blood-tainted athame isn't the traditional weapon for a Shadow."

"I'm not going to use it—"

"Maybe you should."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"You want to know why Glenna chose to lie to you, don't you? The weapon that killed her will have enough links to her soul. You could call her back. Ask the questions which no one else will ever know the answer to. A summoned spirit can tell no lies."

"She's got a point," Opal murmurs in my ear . "There's so much Petra doesn't know. Glenna might know how to get to the Queen without using the pirates."

"No." I can't keep the snap out of my voice and I have to work hard to dial back my anger before continuing, "High Priestesses are never called back. Even if they are traitors."

Reva shrugs. "If you're sure. A weapon infused and bound with the spirit of a powerful witch who owed you a debt would be..."

"Blasphemous."

"Powerful," she counters. "You realise the reason Glenna taught her coven that summoning the spirits of past witches was wrong was because ancient witches would have denounced her."

"Doesn't matter."

My tone doesn't invite discussion, but Reva continues, "If you don't want to use it, you should probably leave it behind. It's dead weight, after all."

That's common sense... but still.

"It comes with me."

Even if I don't even understand my own reasons. Glenna betrayed me. The letters proved it. Carrying around her athame is a pointless reminder of that betrayal.

But it feels like a kick to the gut just thinking about leaving it behind.

Reva wisely decides to drop the conversation. She runs a hand through her short hair and sighs. "Your broom is waiting for you by the statue of the goddesses. Everyone's come to wish you luck."

I roll my eyes and yank open the door. I storm out of the room and down the steps, double-checking my knives and pouch as I go .

"Great. Send the assassin off on a secret mission with a huge crowd and fanfare."

"They want to wish you luck."

That might be true, but I'd still rather leave quietly without the attention announcing to my targets that I'm out. That obviously shows on my face because Reva laughs.

"The price of fame." Her expression sobers as she looks across the sea. "It's partly selfish. They're praying that you can end it. You're the last Shadow, the last champion of the Goddess. Petra is dying and won't be able to train another student, even if one is born. If you fail, there is no one else."

"No pressure." Opal rubs her face against my chin in a silent show of support.

The steps to the courtyard seem to take forever, but when we're finally there, I'd give anything to be somewhere else.

Lunars, Solars... it seems like everyone has come to send me off. There's almost not enough room for them all and the mood is sombre yet expectant, making the atmosphere oppressive as I wander alone down the small, clear path they've left for me. Hands reach out, touching me as they whisper blessings.

Goddess, it feels like they're sending me off to die.

At the base of the statue, Sophie and Petra stand proudly, gold and silver dresses flicking in the wind.

"How are you feeling?" Sophie asks the moment I'm close.

"Fine." Goddess, I hate that question. "Eager to get this over with."

Petra gives me a once over. "You're not ready."

"You said it yourself. We don't have a choice."

She doesn't say anything, just nods at a witch behind me.

"This was made for you. It's fast, silent, and will get you to Cawshome in time if you leave now. If you make it back, I'll show you the letters your mother wrote to me when you were a witchling. "

My mouth drops open, but the old hag just winks and shoves the enchanted metal branch at me.

"Our prayers are with you," Sophie whispers. "May you restore balance with your blade, Shadow."

I'm not certain why a high priestess of life is giving me her blessing to kill, but I don't question it as I buckle the saddlebags on to the broom.

"I'll be back," I promise, glaring at Petra as I perch on the enchanted metal, feeling it come to life with my touch. "So you'd better have those letters ready." I turn to Sophie. "And I will still have my questions about Alletta."

Sophie nods, sombrely. "If you finish the Queen, you will have earned the answers. End this."

Opal stretches over my shoulders and then leaps off, taking her preferred seat in front of me instead.

"Lady's shadows hide you," Petra whispers as I kick off from the ground.

Goddess, this broom is... unbelievable.

It doesn't look like much. It's a plain, black twig, sleek but otherwise unremarkable. Nothing like the engraved and bejewelled masterpieces some of the Coveton witches had, but it flies like a dream.

I've only flown on my crappy, second-hand broom before. Slow, but dependable and good for gliding on air currents.

On this broom, I am the air.

I push us higher, revelling in the colder temperatures that only a Lunar can withstand. My old broom would have started to stutter, the magic not powerful enough to reach these heights. It certainly wouldn't have kept up any kind of speed.

Not this one.

I soar into the fading stars, chasing the last specks of darkness across the sky as the sun climbs behind me.

I'm so high that the sea below me is a distant thought. The thrill of flying keeps me trapped in a happy bubble that takes hours to wear off.

When it does, I have too much to think about.

Like how stupid it is to drag my pirates into this.

They're already being blackmailed. If I fail and the Queen even suspects that they've betrayed her, it's likely that she might have them executed. Or worse.

If I somehow manage to mend the bonds between us and enlist them to help me, then 'worse' is guaranteed.

No. I won't bring them into this any more than I have to. If my capture, torture, and death is as likely as everyone seems to think, then the only way to do this is to keep my presence hidden from my pirates.

I'm not going to lie and say that the plan isn't a little bit self-serving. I'm not ready for the drama that our reunion will cause. Part of me will do anything to put it off a little longer.

The other part of me just wants to kick Val in the nuts for sending me flying into the ocean like he did.

"Mind on the mission," Opal rebukes. "This is going to be hard enough without your stupid hormones messing with your head."

"I know." I push the broom a little bit faster. "It's just..."

"Everything you thought you'd never have, yeah, I get it. I told you I needed several males to worship me right from the start. Admittedly, some of your harem are better than others, but when we finish this, I'll start teaching the mage how to treat a feline."

I roll my eyes but don't comment. "I'll stay on the spirit plane until we see how the barrels get into the palace. If we assume they'll deliver under cover of darkness then power won't be a problem."

"And if they don't?"

I grimace. "Then I'll hide in a barrel."

I'll just have to transform one of the empty ones to look like those belonging to the Eagle of Galmere .

Getting tossed around in a barrel doesn't sound all that great, but if it's my only way in, I'll have to take it.

As for my exit strategy? I have a horrible feeling it will involve a lot of swearing and running for my life.