Page 33 of When the Witch Met the Minotaur

I am falling clean off the roof by the time the words are out of my mouth. My heart climbs into my throat.

This isn’t going to be pretty.

But then an invisible hand of magic cocoons me and floats me like a feather to the ground. I find my feet and look up at a very smug witch, wand in hand. Circles hang under her alluring spring green eyes and the skin around her red lips is more pale than what is healthy.

“Thank you so much, you gorgeous, scary witch.”

She nods, then crumples. I dash forward to catch her and am just barely able to get my arms under her knees and around her back before she drops into the snow.

“Damn it,” I whisper, staring into her face and willing her not to be too worn down.

“We have to get everyone inside. This is thundersnow.” Cyrus’s part-time cook, a massive orc, looks at Tully, eyes wide in his green face. I think his name is Halvard.

“Did the limb hit her?” he asks.

“No, she saved me from falling and did too much magic today.”

The orc opens the pub door for me. “Really? I’ve never seen our Mistress Tully run out of power.”

I hurry Tully inside. Cyrus is talking to some of his staff, his fisted, scaled hand lifted.

“Damned thundersnow. I haven’t seen this in years,” he is saying. “Horrible. Do not under any circumstances try to clear the snow, or Blessed Stones forbid, go out in it. It’ll eat you up and beat you senseless.” The dragon shifter’s gaze snags on Tully. He races around the bar and moves a chair so I can get to the stairs more easily. “What happened to her?”

“Thundersnow?” I ask. I’ve never heard of it. My mind is whirling.

“Argos says she ran out of magic,” Halvard orc says. “She saved him. He fell off the roof when the thundersnow gave its first shake.”

Cyrus looks from me to the orc to the door. “Too much is going on at once. I’ll fly to the healer.” He grabs a sack from a table and slings it over his shoulder and one wing and then he’s out the door in a flash of green and gold.

I leave the rest of the staff downstairs and take Tully up to my room. I’ll have to set her down somewhere to move the mirror off my bed…

I kick the door open, my temples pounding. She hasn’t even cracked an eyelid.

The mirror is gone.

My khymeia are gone from the desk.

Panic bolts through my chest and I settle Tully on the bed. She mutters something and I kneel beside her to push her hair away from her face. Her skin is pasty white now and dotted with perspiration. She’s murmuring something I can’t hear.

“Say it again.” I lean my ear close to her mouth.

“Wrap mirror and stones in blankets or sheets. Sprinkle dill over them. Cyrus has some in his kitchen.”

“Dill?”

“Keep thundersnow from…” She splays her fingers in a motion that indicates an explosion.

“But the mirror never reacted to your magic or the other storms before I arrived with the stones, did it?”

She opens her eyes and I exhale, so relieved to see her awake. “We activated the chaos mirror. It might not react to just my magic alone. Didn’t seem to. But this storm…”

I help her sit up and hand her the half-full cup of water on my nightstand. She swallows it all down, her hand around mine as I hold the rim to her lips. Her fingers are trembling. She wipes hermouth with the back of her hand and eyes the storm through the window.

“Thundersnow is no joke. It’s like a chaos artifact of its own,” she says.

“Is that why you’re so drained? The orc and Cyrus both found it odd that you were suffering.”

“Halvard and Cyrus don’t know the work we did on the mirror earlier. As I was saving your clumsy arse, I felt a power tugging at me. I think the mirror is pulling from me.” She lies back down and I maneuver the covers over her. “The storm probably threw some magic at it, something like a smashing or dislodging spell, and the mirror decided it likes using my energy.”