Page 16 of Wind and Water (Reign of the Witch Queen #2)

Chapter Eight

Liam

J adar brings six foals to the front of Farress and Corell’s house. “These are the foals who were saved by Birdie Martin.”

The young centaurs all look thin and diminished.

Even though I’ve never seen centaurs before today, I feel the young would be full of laughter and life.

The four colts and two fillies standing before us are afraid.

Still, the fact that centaurs have had female children since the curse is not lost on me.

They should, at the very least, be curious about an elf and a human in their midst.

I step forward to question them.

Wren puts her hand on my upper arm and steps in front of me.

She looks at each centaur child individually until he or she meets her gaze.

“My mother would not wish for your fear and sorrow. She made her sacrifice, as she would for any child of any species. It is who she is and why she is so beloved. I’m happy you are safe.

I pray we will rescue my mother, but even if that is not possible, your lives should not be marred by her sacrifice.

I hope you will see how lucky you are and use your time to be of service to others. ”

She’s magnificent, my Wren.

The filly with black hair, dark skin, and a black horse wipes a tear from her cheek. The other has red hair and a roan horse, and she pats her back in comfort, where they stand close together.

A colt who looks very much like Farress, with a white horse and fair skin and hair steps forward. “I am Dollan, son of Corell. We are honored by your mother’s sacrifice. We will live to make her proud. How can we help the daughter of Birdie Martin?”

His parents pull their shoulders back and beam at him.

I give Dollan a short bow. “Can you tell us how you were taken and everything that happened after that?”

Dollan’s already light complexion pales further. “I will tell it, though it isn’t easy, and if my language fails…” He looks at his father.

“I will help you,” Corell says.

Swallowing hard, Dollan sits, as do his friends.

I sit on the short stoop leading up to the living area.

Wren takes her seat beside me.

“We like to play in the sand by the ocean. We’ve been warned since the tower rose that it might be dangerous.

My father told us to keep to the forest.” Dollan lowers his head.

“That day, we went farther down the beach. It was a nice day with a bit of wind and a drizzle that kept the sand firm. When the shadow demons came, it was fast, and the sound they made hurt our ears.”

“Go on, son,” Corell encourages.

“We ran toward the forest, but they were faster. There were at least twenty of them, and they lifted us high in the air. My stomach lurched as the ground grew smaller. I thought they were going to drop us, but they brought us to the black tower.”

I feel the fear from these children and don’t wish to make the memories too vivid, but there are things I must know. Keeping my voice soft, I ask, “How did you enter the tower, Dollan? Did a door open on the side or at the base?”

Shaking his head, Dollan winces. “It was as if they flew us straight through the evil thing. It hurt and burned at the same time. Then the pain stopped, and we were in a room. There was no light. We found each other and huddled on the floor rather than succumb to the total darkness.”

Farress’s voice is strained, and her arms are wrapped around her waist. “Centaurs have excellent eyesight even in the dark of night. Wherever the witch queen held them must have been pitch.”

“Did they hurt you?” Wren asks gently. “I mean, beyond the entry and what must have been terrifying.”

“Without sun or moon, we lost track of time. We were neither fed nor given water. It was as if they planned to starve us. No one touched us once we were in the tower.” Dollan’s voice cracks.

“They were there for two days.” Corell looks ready to go into battle. His fists are clenched at his sides, and he stomps a hoof, bringing up dust.

Two days without any contact with light or basic needs. “The witch queen never came to you?”

They shake their heads.

“What happened when you came out of the tower?” I ask, looking for some clue, anything that might help.

Dollan shrugs. “There was no pain. One moment we were in the dark, and the next, blinded by sunlight and lying in the waters of the lost lands. We didn’t know what had happened until later, when Father told us of Birdie Martin’s sacrifice.”

The filly with red hair stammers, “I-I am Lassa. May-maybe it’s not important, but there was a sound. The tower hums, and the humming is constant. When we were transported, the sound grew loud enough to hurt my ears.”

That could mean there’s a power source. What would Verona need power for? What is she doing in that cursed tower? “It wasn’t the same noise the shadow demons make?”

She shakes her head. “No. This was deeper and steadier.”

“I appreciate all you have told me. You have been very brave.” I need time to think about what we know and what we don’t know, but the longer we leave Birdie in Venora’s hands, the more unlikely it is that we get her back.

“Thank you.” Farress hugs her son and leads the children away.

I hate that I must ask my next question. “Wren, how long can your mother survive the conditions they described?”

“If she was able to keep her backpack, she had at least one sandwich and a few bottles of water. She probably had a few protein bars stashed in there, too.” Sorrow fills her eyes and breaks my heart.

“The darkness would not be great, but she’s strong.

Maybe five days, depending on how much water she has and if she has rationed it.

Maybe longer.” Shoulders sagging, she looks ready to break.

As much as I want to comfort her, I have to stay focused on the task. “Corell, am I correct in believing you planned to attempt a rescue regardless of finding Birdie’s daughter? I see weapons and armor being made and mended.”

He nods, and his tail flicks against his side. “We planned on trying to find you for three days. Tomorrow was our timeline to return to the tower. We could not forsake her after her sacrifice. I told her I would find a way, and she told me to get the children to safety.”

“We’ll continue with your plan.” I bow. “Somehow we have to get Birdie out without giving anything or anyone in return.”

“She’ll want me.” Wren’s voice is soft but strong. “The witch queen doesn’t really want Momma; she wants me. She needs to stop what you and the elves are doing. If the prophecy is followed, she could lose. She’s afraid, maybe for the first time.”

Gut in a knot, I nod. “I cannot and will not trade your life for your mother. I care deeply for her, but that trade will not be made, Wren.”

Fire flares in her eyes. “Find another way, then, elf.” She stomps inside the centaur’s home and doesn’t look back.

Corell lets out a long breath and sits on his haunches. “She is much like her mother. You have a lot to deal with, son of Elspeth.”

It’s clear he’s teasing me, but he’s not wrong either. “How do I teach Wren to use her magic at will?”

“First, you must find the source of her magic. How is it realized? Until then, I don’t see how you will teach control.” The centaur leader watches his son walk through the center of the gathering space.

The boy’s gait is slow, his chin tucked, his tail hangs still, and his fists are tight at his sides. As the son of a leader, he should hold his shoulders back and his head high.

“Dollan is strong. He will recover. He needs time and to know that the one who caused his distress is no longer the greatest power in Domhan.” It’s painful to admit that Venora rules my world when it was my mother who lost that power.

“You want me to say that the centaurs of the west will join forces with elves in the coming war?” Rising, Corell paces away from me. His tail swishes hard against his side. “Keeping to ourselves has kept my herd safe for many generations.”

“That was true in the past.” Farress returns and sits close to her mate. “Venora Braddish took our children. She has declared war on the centaurs.”

“You have the right of it, sweet one. We will not let her actions go unchallenged.” Corell threads his fingers through Farress’s.

Venora made a tactical mistake. She woke the anger of the centaurs, who had always been neutral and disliked elves.

“She’s panicking.” I speak mostly to myself. Another thought distracts me. “How did the witch queen inform you of her desire to make a trade for Birdie?”

They look at each other, frowning. Sorrow fills Farress’s eyes, though she sheds no tears. “She dropped an elven slave on the beach.”

“What happened to him?” My temper rises at the thought of the centaurs sending a slave back into the clutches of evil.

“He came to us near death and did not survive.” Corell meets my gaze. “We did not kill him, and we would have done all that was possible to save him.”

My temper is under control, and I take a deep breath. “What happened?”

The color drains from Farress’s face. “The elf’s name was Kieran.

Shadow demons came en mass. Our patrol stood their ground ready to defend the village, but the demons did not attack.

Instead, they dropped Kieran from a height that, without magic, he could not survive.

His bones were broken, and he bled from within.

” She pauses and takes several slow breaths.

“He told us where the children were and that the human woman would be taken in trade for the foals’ safe return. ”

“How long did Kieran live?” My fury roils under the surface. Cruelty and evil are the calling cards of the witch queen. Elves are disposable, as slaves, shadow demons, and converts.