by Donna Grant
But...she had an enemy closer to home. The Hunters. Edra’s stance against the Coven had gone unchallenged for too long. It was time someone put an end to them once and for all.
“Show me where Edra hides,” Sybbyl ordered the staff.
There was the slightest hesitation before she was shown a forest, but not just any wood. This one was different. This one was where the Hunters took cover.
With the knowledge of where both her enemies were located, Sybbyl made her way to Jarin. She sat across from him, lying the staff across her legs.
“No matter how you try, you will never get out of this Grove,” she stated.
He opened his eyes, spearing her with blue irises so pale they could be mistaken for white. “You cannot keep me here forever.”
“How is it that a man like you is not already bound to another?”
“What does it matter?”
She shrugged. “I know men. I have made it my business to study them. Your kind falls into three categories. Those who take what they want, those who do what they want, and those who are constantly duped.”
“I suppose this is where you tell me which I am,” he said wearily.
“You know which you are. You are a doer. You know what has to be done, and you see it through. You never waver from your goal. And you never quit.”
He blinked slowly, utterly unimpressed by her words.
But that didn’t faze her. Sybbyl held his gaze as she let the corners of her mouth lift slightly. “Every man can be manipulated. Even one such as you.”
“Is that what you’re attempting?” he asked with a raised brow, indicating his skepticism.
Sybbyl chuckled softly as she shook her head. “If I were manipulating you, you would never know.”
“I doubt that.”
“I want you. I let you know that from the beginning, but you see, my handsome warlock, you are merely a prize in all of this. With that face, body, and magic, you will create amazing babies.”
As soon as the words had left her mouth, she knew Jarin’s thoughts went to Helena. But she didn’t care.
Sybbyl drew in a deep breath and released it. “There must be many more warlocks, but surely none as stunning as you. I offer you the chance to bear witness to a great change that will take over the entire world. It begins here. Now.”
“I want no part of you,” he said.
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “That really is too bad. Because I will find the Varroki. I already know where to look. You will be there to see me conquer them. Then, I will choose among the warlocks who will give me children. Those of the Coven will each have their choice of the warlocks, as well. The Varroki will be no more.”
“Wishful thinking,” Jarin replied.
Sybbyl glanced down at the staff. “Have no fear, I will vanquish your people, but before I do that, I’ll wipe out every Hunter and destroy Edra’s hiding place.” When he didn’t immediately reply, she asked, barely hiding her glee, “What? No snappy retort?”
“What’s the use? You will believe what you want.”
“Perhaps. Edra and her Hunters have hidden from the Coven for many years. I give her props for having the courage and conviction to do what she’s done. But her time has come to an end.”
Jarin looked her over. “I suppose you want me to see that, as well?”
“Aye.”
“Let me guess. We leave now?”
Sybbyl let the silence stretch before she let glee fill her face. “Not quite yet. First, I need to find Helena.”
To Sybbyl’s shock, Jarin smiled. It was cold, calculating. And deadly. “You cannot win against her.”
“Of course, I can. I have you. She will never allow anything to happen to you.”
His smile never wavered. “All this time, I’ve overestimated you. You are not nearly as cunning as I thought you were.”
His words unsettled her. Sybbyl tried to shake them off, but she couldn’t. It had been a very long time since any man had gotten under her skin. And Jarin had done the impossible—he’d made her doubt herself.
“I know what I have,” she replied.
He quirked a blond brow. “The staff? It did little for you against Helena the first time. Now, she knows what she is. If you ever had a chance against her, it was before she knew she was the Living Heart.”
“Nice try, but it won’t work.”
“Really?” Jarin jerked his chin to the staff. “You hold a bone of the First Witch. Helena has her blood, her magic.”
“That has been diluted through the years,” Sybbyl retorted, not bothering to hide her anger.
The warlock issued a slight shrug. “Has the magic in the bones weakened?”
“You want to make me question myself.”
“I am merely pointing out facts,” he said.
Sybbyl wasn’t sure what to believe. He fought against the Coven, so he would say anything to put her off. And yet, Jarin’s words held the ring of truth.
The bones of the First Witch were extremely powerful. A descendant would be just as strong.
If Helena had even a tenth of the First Witch’s magic, then Sybbyl didn’t stand a chance against her. Not in a head-to-head battle.
Then again, Sybbyl assumed that everything she knew of the First Witch—and that was very little—was fact. It was time for her to turn the tables on Jarin and manipulate him.
“Why do you so willingly fight for the First Witch?” she asked.
He gave a snort. “I fight against the Coven.”
“Based on what you learned from your people. What if the Varroki are wrong?”
Jarin shook his head in disbelief. “That might have rung true, except I’ve seen for myself what the Coven does. I have seen them force witches to choose your path or death. I have seen the Coven kill women and children without blinking. I have seen the destruction that follows in the wake of any Coven witch.”
“Not me,” she said.
His flat look said he didn’t believe her. “So, you have not killed innocents?”
“I did not say that. I said there was no destruction.”
“Need I remind you what happened when you went after the staff? You used magic to alter the battle in your favor. Not to mention the massacre at Bryce Castle.”
She glanced up, shrugging in admission. “I’ll admit, that was not my finest moment, but the staff was within reach, and I was going to have it.”
“No matter who you had to kill?”
“No matter who.”
He leaned forward, his eyes hard and unforgiving. “And that is why the Varroki fight the Coven. It is why we have always fought you.”
“But what began it all?”
He sat back and looked away, a signal that he was tired of the conversation.
“What are you afraid of telling me?” she pressed. “That you have no idea why? That you follow this path simply because your people tell you to?”
His head snapped back to her. “I fight for the Varroki willingly, but I make my own decisions. I learned all about the Coven, aye. Then I saw for myself what you are, and I knew why there was a need for warriors like me to keep you in check.”
“In check? Are you sure you did not mean to say wipe us out?”
“That is the goal, aye. We want you gone.”
She studied him a moment before she smiled. “But that is not what you said. Your people believe there is a balance, that you cannot have good without evil.” Sybbyl threw back her head and laughed. “Perfect.”
“That was my people,” he said. “I’m no longer fighting alone. There are Hunters and witches like Edra. There is Braith, Warden of the Blood Skull. And there is Helena.”
As much as she hated it, Jarin had a point. Sybbyl’s laughter died, and her smile vanished. The Varroki might believe in balance, but the others wouldn’t.
Especially Helena.
It was never more important than now for Sybbyl to take out Edra and her Hunters. Wiping them out would set everyone back and cement Sy
bbyl’s rule over the Coven.
It would also remind everyone fighting her that she wouldn’t hesitate to wipe out her enemies.
“This conversation has been very informative,” she said and got to her feet. “But the time for talking is finished. Now, it’s time for action.”
29
It was strangely calm at the top of the tower. Malene and Armir stood, waiting as Helena made her way to them. There was little wind, allowing the smell of salt to hang heavy in the air.
She glanced up at the sky. It looked as if the clouds had stopped moving, as if they too were holding their breath at what was about to happen.
Helena wrapped her fingers around the edge of her cloak. The fur was soft, reminding her of Valdr. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. The wolf sat at the top of the steps. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about being left behind, but Helena wanted to keep him safe.
“I will be back,” she told Valdr for the sixth time. “With Jarin.”
At the mention of their master, Andi called out from overhead. It was anyone’s guess if the falcon would remain behind.
Helena’s gaze moved over the village until she found Jarin’s family home. Bjorn was standing outside, looking in their direction. She wanted to wave to him, but he probably wouldn’t see her.
She made her way to Armir and Malene. “Is there any other way of doing this?”
“Aye,” Armir said with a flat tone. “You can walk there.”
She shot him a look of irritation as Malene hid her grin. “I don’t like being incapacitated. If there are witches near, then we will be in trouble, quick.”
“We can only do what the magic allows,” Malene said as she rubbed her hands together.
Armir drew in a breath as he looked at Malene then swung his gaze to Helena. “Do you remember the spell?”
“Aye.” At least she hoped she did. Since she was the only one who knew where Jarin was, it was up to her to get them close to the Witch’s Grove—but not too close—so they could surprise Sybbyl.
Malene turned her back to them and held out her hand. Armir held Helena’s gaze for a long moment before he too put his back to her and linked his hand with Malene’s before holding his other palm out to her. Helena licked her lips and turned to face Valdr as she grasped their hands. She held the wolf’s gaze as the three of them stood in a triangle.
“You can do it,” Armir whispered and squeezed her hand.
She could, but she wasn’t looking forward to the effects such magic produced. Helena inhaled deeply and slowly released the breath. She pictured Jarin and began the spell.
The world rippled around her, then went calm. It heaved twice more, the undulations coming closer together as the spell lengthened. Then everything went silent.
No sounds of waves crashing, no gulls just...stillness.
Be brave.
She clung to the words, knowing Trea was with her. Helena blinked. When she opened her eyes, she was in the midst of a forest with snow flurries drifting in the air.
Both Armir and Malene were bent over, sick from the magic. Helena’s head felt dull, her eyesight going in and out of focus, and her hearing echoed like she was deep in a cave. Just when she thought she might not become ill, her stomach revolted.
She spun and rushed a few steps away as she emptied the pitiful contents of her stomach. It was a good thing she hadn’t eaten anything in hours.
Helena braced a hand on the bark of a tree to hold herself up. She straightened, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She kept blinking her eyes, hoping her sight returned to normal soon.
“Here,” Armir said as he handed her a waterskin.
She glanced at the commander to see his face still pale. A look at Malene showed the Lady of the Varroki still on her hands and knees.
“I’ll see to her,” Armir said breathlessly. He stumbled, making his way to the Lady. He fell to his knees beside her and gently pulled back her hair from her face.
Helena wished she would’ve thought to ask Malene if she knew that Armir was smitten with her. Though she had seen Malene gazing after the commander a few times, Helena found the Lady difficult to read.
Malene was welcoming and kind, but there was much she kept to herself. Not that Helena blamed her. If she were in Malene’s position, she would probably do the same.
It was several minutes later before Helena felt well enough to stand without the assistance of the tree. She rinsed her mouth out twice with water before taking a few hesitant sips of the cool liquid. Just as before, it settled her stomach considerably.
She walked to Malene and Armir. He had managed to get Malene to sit, and the Lady was leaning heavily upon the commander, whose arm was wrapped protectively around her shoulders.
Helena looked between them and knew that each had feelings for the other. But did they know that? She suspected not, and she wondered why neither had said or done anything about it?
“It never gets any easier,” Malene said.
Armir looked up at Helena and gave her a nod. “Well done, by the way.”
She smiled, taking pleasure in his praise. Especially since it was her first time jumping from one place to another. Though, she would use the spell sparingly because of its effects.
While Armir helped Malene to her feet, Helena looked around the forest. The air felt heavy, oppressive. Danger was near, and that threat was Sybbyl.
“You brought us to the right place,” Malene said as she adjusted her cloak and pulled up the hood.
Helena regretted leaving Jarin’s staff at Blackglade, but something had told her she wouldn’t need it. Besides, she wanted to make sure Sybbyl didn’t get her hands on it because it was special to Jarin.
Helena’s head turned to the left. The quiet of the afternoon made it feel as if they were secluded from the rest of the world. The ground was frozen, the air frigid. But neither daunted her. She blinked to dislodge a flake that had landed on her eyelash.
“This way,” she told the others and began walking left.
Neither Armir or Malene questioned her. She wasn’t comfortable with either of them being there. Malene was the leader of the Varroki, and Armir was just as vital to Blackglade, but neither would listen to her arguments the night before about remaining behind.
She led their little group deeper into the woods. Most Witch’s Groves were known to witches, so they had a sanctuary to go to. But there were a few that were kept secret. Helena had never liked the Groves, possibly because they reminded her of the Coven.
Only twice had she been inside one. The first time to see what it held. The second when the Coven had captured her, and Leoma freed her.
“We’re close,” Malene said.
Helena felt it, as well. The magic. It breathed like it was alive, and in many ways, it was. Witches and warlocks brought it to life. They gave it shape, gave it purpose.
Ahead, the trees parted to form a path. She looked up at them, noting how their branches met overhead to create a canopy. Helena came to a halt.
“What is it?” Armir asked.
She turned to face them. “Seeing Blackglade made me realize a few things. Both of you are not just important to the Varroki, you two are also what holds them together. I know now why Jarin chose to be a warrior. I also understand why Trea went to such extremes to keep her power from her sisters.”
Malene’s brows drew together. “You’re a Varroki. I think you know that. Which means, Blackglade is your home, as well.”
Helena smiled, fighting back the lump of emotion. She knew that no amount of arguing would keep either of them from walking with her into the Witch’s Grove.
And neither of them yet comprehended just how important they were to each other. They were one unit. One without the other simply...didn’t work.
“I hope one day you can forgive me for this,” she said.
Before Armir or Malene could respond, Helena lifted her hand as purple coils shot from her palm along with a spell that suddenly came to her. The s
pirals wrapped around their heads, rendering both unconscious within moments.
Helena bent next to each one and placed her hand on their foreheads. She put another spell upon them that would hide them until they woke.
She straightened and turned around. Just thirty steps away was the entrance to the Witch’s Grove. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to not go inside, but it was her destiny.
Straightening her shoulders and lifting her hood to cover her face, Helena started walking. She didn’t slow, not even when she reached the invisible border of the Grove. She heard the whispers of the Gira before entering, but it was just a murmur compared to the booming voices once she was through the barrier.
Out of the corner of her eye, Helena spotted several Gira coming towards her. They halted after a few steps, hastily backing away.
The Gira didn’t usually attack witches, but that didn’t mean the nymphs feared them. They grabbed hold of anything that succumbed to their enticements. And, sometimes, they outright snatched people.
Helena’s heart pounded like a deep drum with every step. More and more Gira appeared, stepping away from the trees to show themselves. Not a single one blocked her path or attempted to touch her. It looked almost as if...they were in awe of her.
Helena didn’t stop to find out. If she had to fight the nymphs, she would, but her first priority was Sybbyl. The fact that there were so many Gira in the Grove made Helena uneasy. She couldn’t remember ever hearing or seeing so many nymphs in one location before.
They tended to spread out since they, like many animals, were territorial. Yet that didn’t seem to be an issue at present.
As Helena wound her way through the trees, she kept her head high. Unlike many Witch’s Groves, this one didn’t seem to have a path toward the center. It might be because it was so old, at least if the trees were any indication, but it also might mean that there were traps waiting for her.
After Helena made her way over the thick, burgeoning roots of an oak, she spotted the Grove through the limbs ahead. Helena tried not to get too near the trees, which became impossible the closer the trunks were to each other.
Her hand accidentally brushed against a Gira, who jerked back as if repelled. Helena glanced in the nymph’s direction to find the Gira holding her arm as if wounded. The creature hastily fell to one knee as if in supplication.