Page 44 of Twisting Twilight (Homesteader Hearth Witch #9)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“ Are you still alive? ” Sawyer wailed down the bond.

I fought not to turn around and give him the stink-eye my mother had always used on me when I’d pestered her with the same question ad nauseam. My nerves were like eggshells and I didn’t need his anxiety Irish step-dancing all over them. “ I’ve only taken three steps in, kitty. ”

“ Yeah but are you dying? ”

“ Not that I can tell. And I think you’d be able to feel it if I was. ”

There was a stillness in the Field of Black Stars, a void.

No plants grew here, no insects trundled along in the shimmering gravel.

Even in the seemingly dead places of Earth, like lava flats and dried-up seas, there was still life to be had.

Potential, hidden far beneath the crust and simply waiting for time and the natural world to present another opportunity to flourish.

Not here. The land was dead to its very core. I could no longer feel Elfame’s magic flowing up through my boots or even into my lungs. While there was a breeze here, whipped up by the sea, this dead land stripped it of its scents and vitality.

To my relief, it wasn’t doing the same thing to me.

Yet.

I pressed onward, every sense on high alert as my boots crunched over glittering black ash. If I’d had whiskers, they would’ve been sticking straight out and straining for the first hint of danger.

It was cold here too; no living matter created thermal insulation.

Hugging the oilskin cloak tighter around my shoulders, I picked up the pace into a steady trot.

I would’ve rather used the Rabbit Step Spell, but Thistle’s words warned me against it.

Like I didn’t already have a billion other things to think about.

But the faelene’s secrets were too astonishing to ignore. Even enough to change the course of human-fae relations! Was it just my magic that made me resistant and/or immune to the Blight, or were all witches? Or all supernaturals like shifters, vampires, warlocks, and the rest?

Iron could be used to cut through the Blight.

Did that mean literally carve a path or could it eradicate it?

Guess I’d find out soon enough. Regardless, iron was an Earth thing, not an Elfame thing, and Ossian—bastard that he was—had figured out a way to wield it safely and smuggle it through a fae portal.

I wondered if he’d known all along the power he’d wielded, or if he’d just been narrow-sighted on extracting his revenge on his brother.

If the fae courts ever realized these truths, there was a risk of invasion.

Fae changelings had fallen out of fashion, or become illegal, whatever—I didn’t rightly know—but now, for the sake of their world, they might decide drastic measures were in order.

Witches kidnapped, iron stolen, both put to use for the betterment of Elfame without any regard to individual free will.

Ossian had wreaked havoc and killed hundreds, and he was only one high fae.

What if an army came through the portal instead?

“Oh my Green Mother,” I whispered aloud.

“Are you okay?” Sawyer asked immediately. “Your emotions are all twisted up like a ball of yarn after a good pouncing.”

“I’m good,” I reassured him, lying. I’d tell him later, but there was no point telling him now. He’d get all in a tizzy and that might make Kian suspicious. “I’m letting my thoughts run away from me.”

“And how is that helping anything?” the cat wanted to know.

I rolled my eyes. “And Kian is pleasantly surprised you’ve made it this far and wants to warn you that the closer you get to the castle the more you might—” Sawyer broke off his rushed message to confer with the junior scholar.

“Thistle and Kian can’t seem to agree. The details vary, Meadow, but it’s gonna suck.

The scholars only have guesses and no faelene finds the place worth traveling.

Kian, however, would very much like a full report if you survive to make one. ”

“I’m sure he does.”

The castle grew closer, eventually consuming my entire vision.

The shadows that whipped and twisted along its walls and towers revealed snatches of darkened stone.

I wondered if they had once been the dismal gray of cedar shakes you saw on coastal homes to combat the salt and weather.

From those glimpses, I determined where the west-facing entry was and adjusted my course.

The shadows continued to writhe in a current independent of the sea breeze, almost as if they were black flames that would never snuff out.

Drawing ever nearer, I discovered the walls and towers weren’t exactly intact, and my stomach sank.

Navigating ruins hadn’t been part of the plan.

“Sawyer? The castle has seen some damage. Have Kian pull up a blueprint or something. I might need some direction here soon.”

“Will do!”

I smiled despite my growing apprehension. That little cat’s enthusiasm never failed.

Like with the trefoil meadow, there was a distinct boundary between the Field of Black Stars and the castle of the Twilight Court. At its edge, I drew Faebane from its blackened sheath and another bleached rainbow tourmaline from my bra pocket.

“Sawyer? Don’t ask Kian this, but can he still see me from this far away?”

The bond thrummed with suspicion. “No, actually. He mentioned it a few minutes ago that you’d passed beyond his sight. Why?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“But—”

“This is for your own protection, little cat. Just for now. I swear I’ll tell you later.”

The tabby tomcat harrumphed. “Also Kian’s ready to give you directions if you need them.”

“Standby.”

I fitted the tourmaline in a gap between the crystal-studded scales of the rapier’s hilt and carefully curled my hand around both. With the tourmaline trapped, it was no trouble at all to tap the crystal and channel its magic into the rapier.

“Okay, Thistle, let’s hope you’re right,” I muttered.

Staying firmly on my side of the boundary, I leaned forward with the rapier and slashed at my first shadow.

There was a ripping sound like tearing silk, then the shadow fluttered away.

The moment it detached from the ground, the shadow changed like one of Lori’s smoky exhales.

Black butterflies took to the sky and black flower petals rained to the ground.

The butterflies vanished into wisps of dark vapor before they’d gone three wingbeats; the petals dissipated inches from the cursed earth like mist burned away by the sun.

A narrow passage revealed itself: black stone pavers and a few teeth of the portcullis above, each shaped like sinuous yet stabby kelp.

Score one for iron. Ha-cha!

If Faebane worked, would my iron cuffs? I’d managed to get those through the portal too, without the use of those crystals. Had my own magic protected them? Did I need Faebane if I had those? Maybe not, but Faebane put a nice distance between me and the Blight residue.

Risking another swing, I cut through another shadow to widen the passageway through the west gate.

More butterflies and petals appeared in a somber display of magic.

It gave me the impression of a funeral: flowers of the left-behind falling in grief and the spirit of the released continuing on to the afterlife.

I needed to remove another shadow to widen the path so I didn’t risk bumping into any Mustn’t-Touch-Its.

This cut I performed slowly to watch the sword.

The shadow bent around rapier, as if it and the iron were two identical magnetic poles repelling each other.

Maybe it was the prolonged exposure to the faebane or for some other reason, but the shadow weakened and could be severed clean through.

Not even a root of it remained on the ground no matter where I cut.

If I wasn’t so on edge, I might’ve thought this was fun. Like I had when beheading the fluffy white heads of dandelions with a stick when I was seven. But now it was time to take a step into the Twilight Court for real.

“I have a path into the castle now,” I told Sawyer, after I’d taken at least a dozen deep breaths to bolster my courage.

The tabby tomcat didn’t reply with words, but flooded his magic down the bond. He kept nothing in reserve.

“I love you too,” I told him.

I held Faebane out in front of me with both hands, clamped my eyes shut, and stepped forward.