by Grant, Donna
“How do you know you are heading in the right direction?”
“The magic is fresher with each location,” Avis replied. “Then it stopped. Nothing. Until just a little while ago.”
“In this direction?” Sybbyl asked.
Avis nodded, smiling.
She looked at the three witches behind her. “It looks like I am going to get both Helena and my warlock this night. Come,” she ordered them.
With the four witches trailing behind her, Sybbyl made her way through the trees. She frowned as she walked. She had been here before, but she couldn’t remember when or why. As she searched her mind, she came to the edge of the woods and saw the great stones dimly illuminated by the moon.
“Stonehenge,” one of the witches murmured behind her.
It had been many years since Sybbyl had been to the place. She hadn’t liked it the first time, and she liked it even less now. But she instinctively knew that Helena and the warlock were there.
“I do not like this place,” Avis whispered.
Sybbyl had once believed the standing stones repulsed all witches, but obviously, she was wrong if her two targets were there. Perhaps the circle repelled only those of the Coven.
A Witch’s Grove was for all witches and warlocks, but it was known that some with magic never felt welcome within them. Perhaps the same was true for the stones.
“It matters not,” she told the women. “We are going to surround them. They will try to run, but they will not get far.”
She walked from the trees, confident the witches would follow her. The closer they came to Stonehenge, the more something kept telling her that Helena was no longer there.
Sybbyl paused and turned to the right. She closed her eyes and whispered to the staff to show her the closest items of the First Witch. This time, the staff refused to answer, but she was undaunted.
A faint flicker of light from deep within the stones let Sybbyl know that someone was there. It could be a trick designed by Helena to give her more time to put distance between herself and Sybbyl.
“Where are you going?” Avis asked when Sybbyl pivoted away from the circle of stones.
“Helena is not there,” she replied.
“What of the warlock?”
Sybbyl shrugged. “He will be mine soon enough.”
The witches said nothing else as they followed Sybbyl. With every step, she knew she was heading in the right direction.
* * *
Armir met Jarin’s gaze. They had both felt the approach of the Coven and quietly got into place for battle, but before they could get close enough, something stopped them.
The night was dark, with the moon shedding little light for them to see who was leading the witches, but Armir knew. It was Sybbyl. She had come for Helena, and somehow, she’d figured out that the witch wasn’t within the stones.
“They’re going after her,” Jarin said.
Armir nodded reluctantly. “It would seem so.”
“And you want me to stand by and do nothing?”
“I never said that.”
Jarin’s pale blue eyes narrowed dangerously before his lips curved into a grin. “I think you should hunt more often.”
“I have my hands full with quite enough at Blackglade, thank you.”
“I can see how guarding and helping a beautiful woman like Malene would be taxing.”
Armir cut Jarin a dark look. “Do you want to follow the Coven or not?”
“You know I do.”
“I want a glimpse of what the Staff of the Eternal can do. Not to mention, I want to see how Sybbyl wields it.”
Jarin moved his hand from left to right, extinguishing the fire. “Then what are we waiting for?”
“They cannot know we’re here.”
“I do this every day, Armir.” Jarin then gave a soft whistle that had Andi soaring into the sky. “Shall we?”
Armir walked to the scorched earth where the fire had been and grabbed the still hot stick with the roasted hare on it. He was starving and not willing to let food go to waste.
When he reached Jarin, the warrior tore off a large chunk of meat and sank his teeth into it. Then they were off. Armir wasn’t sure what awaited them. He still believed it would be better if Jarin were far from Helena, but at the same time, if they could help the witch, there was no reason they shouldn’t.
He could only hope that the decision didn’t come back to haunt him.
* * *
Leaving Jarin had been the hardest thing Helena had ever done. She felt as if she had left part of herself at Stonehenge—a piece she would never get back until she was in his arms again.
No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t get Valdr to return to Jarin. The wolf stayed within steps of her at all times. He helped lead her through dense sections of the forest, over rocky terrain, and across the shallowest part of a stream.
She knew that if Valdr were still with her when the Coven found her, they would kill the wolf first. She wouldn’t be able to handle that. Whether the animal could understand her or not, she began talking to him about it.
The action might have been lost on Valdr, but it helped her. She listed out all the reasons why the wolf needed to return to Jarin once she had found a suitable place for battle. Because she would win—or die trying.
Helena walked all night. She didn’t pause until she saw the sky turn a soft gray. A look over her shoulder showed her a magnificent sunrise. One that she had thought to share with Jarin in the comfort of his arms.
How drastically things had changed within such a short amount of time. She should be used to it, but it was something Helena would never grow accustomed to.
She watched the sun rising higher while her mind replayed the hours she’d had in Jarin’s arms. She hadn’t wanted to fall in love. It just happened, without her even realizing it. Now that the emotion was there, she couldn’t ignore it.
While talking to Armir earlier in the night, she’d come to the conclusion that in order to protect Jarin, she had to leave. While she didn’t know Sybbyl, she knew the witch’s kind.
Sybbyl had to have everything. She’d already had a run-in with Jarin, and there was little doubt in Helena’s mind that Sybbyl now knew that Jarin was a warlock. The witch would want to add him to the Coven and maybe even keep him for herself.
Helena didn’t know the witch’s thoughts—and she didn’t want to. The Varroki had hunted the Coven, and with Jarin in their midst, there was no telling what information they could get from him—willing or not. If Sybbyl got her hands on Jarin, Blackglade and all the Varroki were in danger. Same with those at the abbey.
But that was only one of the many excuses Helena used to convince herself to walk away from Jarin. The truth was that she knew he would never divulge anything to the Coven. He was strong enough mentally, physically, and magically to withstand whatever Sybbyl tried to do to him—with or without the Staff of the Eternal.
Helena didn’t know how things would play out between her and Sybbyl, but she knew it wouldn’t be pretty. She prayed she had strong enough magic to stand up to the Coven. Both Armir and Jarin thought she did.
If she really were the Living Heart and a descendant of the First Witch, then she would do her ancestor proud. She knew next to nothing about her Viking heritage, but she was determined to find it within herself somehow.
Too much depended on it.
Helena turned back around and began walking once more. Valdr brushed against her leg, a reminder that she wasn’t alone. She took comfort in the wolf. He looked up at her, tongue lolling as if asking her if they could go faster.
She smiled and started jogging. It felt good to move in such a way. Plus, it was a reminder of how she and Jarin had covered large amounts of ground.
The better part of the day was spent alternating between walking and running. She stopped and filled her waterskin often. There was little food left in her bag from the abbey, so she was careful about how much she ate.
Her
mind wandered, her thoughts going to her ancestors, Jarin, and the Coven when she saw it. Helena came to a halt and looked at the hill before her. There was nothing particularly spectacular about it, but she knew instantly that it was the place where she would face the Coven.
She hurried to the knoll and stood atop it, looking out at the land around her. Then a voice filled her mind.
“Never fight unless you know the odds are in your favor.”
Helena lifted her chin and felt magic crackle along her fingers. “The odds are in my favor.”
20
Jarin took his duty of eliminating the Coven seriously. But this was different. This was to help save the woman he... He what?
He was afraid to go down that path and say the word.
Instead, he focused on Sybbyl and the Coven members. He and Armir moved silently and quickly. The witches never got too far ahead of them. It helped that the women never looked over their shoulders, but Jarin wasn’t going to take that for granted.
He used a shielding spell that would make it difficult for anyone to see him, and Armir followed suit. Jarin wanted Sybbyl for himself. After his first run-in with the witch that had ended with her getting away, he wanted retribution—and he wanted to ensure that she never got her hands on Helena.
Jarin motioned to Armir that they should split up, each moving to flank the witches. Armir never slowed in his steps, but he looked ahead, his mind seemingly working out each scenario. He finally gave a nod of agreement.
That’s all Jarin needed to diverge to the right as Armir moved left. Jarin wanted to rush to the witches, to bellow the loud war cry of his ancestors and head straight for Sybbyl. But he didn’t. He held himself in check, slowing so he didn’t get ahead of the Coven.
The sky lightened, but he paid little attention to it. The trees were sparse, and the ground rocky. He was focused solely on the witches. It took Andi flying so close that her wings touched his cheek to get his attention. Jarin inwardly grimaced.
That kind of lack of concentration could get him killed. The fact that Sybbyl and the others seemed unconcerned about anyone following them should be caution enough.
He slowed to a walk and held out his arm for the bird. Andi landed on his wrist. He stroked her chest. “What have you seen?” he whispered.
She turned her head forward and let out a call.
Jarin frowned. “Have you found Helena?”
The bird flapped her great wings in answer.
“Keep an eye on her,” he told the falcon.
Andi flew up so high, he could barely make her out. Jarin then turned his head to the Coven members. He didn’t know where Armir was, but the commander was a superb fighter. He wasn’t at all worried about Armir. If anything, Jarin was concerned about Armir getting to Sybbyl first.
“She’s mine,” Jarin stated.
He continued following them. His body was tense with anger and frustration, and he couldn’t even run any of it off. With the witches walking as if they weren’t in a hurry, he had to do the same.
Jarin contemplated running ahead and finding Helena, but he didn’t—as hard as it was not to. He respected her decision, even if he didn’t agree with it.
As he thought about all the things he wanted to say to Helena, he noticed that the witches had begun to spread out from one another. It was so subtle and done over a half hour that he almost missed it.
That’s when he realized that they knew they were being followed. Sybbyl was preparing to attack, but would they go for him or Armir? Jarin decided to give them a wide berth as he ran ahead of the group. When he found an outcropping of rocks, he jumped atop it and waited, watching as the witches came towards him.
Before the Coven reached him, Sybbyl drew to a stop. The four women behind her did the same, their eyes scanning the area. They knew he was there, but they couldn’t see him.
He noted the black crown atop Sybbyl’s blond hair, but it was the band of black paint that went over her eyes and temples to disappear into her hairline that made him narrow his gaze.
It was very similar to something the Norse did when they went into battle. Was it just coincidence? Or was the staff influencing her?
“I know you’re out there,” Sybbyl stated. “Show yourself.”
Jarin tightened his fingers on his staff. Her gaze had moved over him twice already, which meant his shielding spell was holding. But for how much longer? It might be a good way to test just what the Staff of the Eternal could do.
Then again, they knew Jarin was there, but not Armir. If the shielding spell worked, then that could give the commander time to plan an attack while Jarin kept the witches’ attention on him.
Jarin removed the spell, showing himself. Sybbyl’s blue eyes locked on him and she smiled as if she had just gotten a prize she coveted.
“I had a witch looking for you. Who knew all I had to do was wait for you to find me,” she said with a seductive grin.
He remained silent. There was nothing he could say that would benefit him, so he decided to be patient and find out what Sybbyl wanted.
“The strong and silent type,” she said as she walked closer, her hips swaying suggestively.
He glanced at the staff she held. It had once been in his hand, and if he had anything to say about it, it would be once more. But first, he had to kill Sybbyl and make sure the Coven never went after Helena again.
Sybbyl lifted her chin to look up at him. “I cannot begin to tell you how excited I was to learn the Varroki were real. I honestly believed only women could have magic, but you showed me differently. There are more of you, I take it? I want you to show me.”
He merely raised a brow in response.
She shrugged, her lips compressing for a heartbeat. “It might take years, but I’m willing to wait for you to tell me what I want to know. In the meantime, I have other plans for you.”
Unease slithered through him. What the hell could she want with him?
Her smile widened as if she were reading his mind. “I can tell you every detail you want to know. Perhaps, I will start from the beginning. Witches are tired of hiding. Those too weak to use their magic on others to protect themselves are being killed. The rest of us are very willing to do whatever is necessary to stay alive.”
“Like killing innocents.”
“So, you do speak,” she said with a smile. “I honestly hoped you would not be one to get hung up on things like that. After all, the Varroki keep to themselves. You do not meddle in the affairs of the rest of us, at least not that I knew about until recently. Just what do the Varroki do?”
“We kill anyone in the Coven,” he stated.
Her smile disappeared as she frowned. “That will simply not do. Whatever you thought to do to my sisters and me will not happen. You should accept that now.”
“Says who?”
Her eyes glittered with power. “Me. I make the rules now. I am transforming this narrow-minded world run by men into one of acceptance. One where women rule.”
Jarin wasn’t fooled. “Women? You mean you.”
“Well, aye,” she said with a laugh. “Of course, I mean me. I will be queen, but even a queen needs those she can trust. And those will be women. No longer will we be subservient to men. No longer will we have to fear being forced to lie with a man or marry him. We will make our own decisions.”
“And how does that involve me?” But Jarin had a pretty good idea.
Sybbyl moved a few steps closer. “You, my handsome, virile warrior, will help me spawn a new breed of witches and warlocks.”
“I would sever my cock from my body before I allowed that to happen.”
The fierce anger that contorted Sybbyl’s face wiped away any shred of beauty she had. “Did you not hear me? I make the rules.”
“Not for me.”
Jarin saw the attack coming before the first witch moved. He held up his left hand and sent a blast of white magic into the woman’s chest. She died before she hit the ground, her body already turning to as
h.
Sybbyl didn’t move as the other three witches rushed him. Jarin remained on the high ground, using the leverage to take out another witch. He turned, his staff pointed at another when something slammed into him.
He looked down to find inky strands of smoke wrapping around him so he couldn’t move. A look in Sybbyl’s direction proved that she was the one responsible, the smile on her face said as much.
No matter how hard he tried to hold onto his staff, it fell from his numb fingers, tumbling from the rocks to the ground below.
Then Sybbyl pulled back on her staff, and his feet were jerked out from under him. Jarin hit the rocks so hard it knocked the breath from him. The black strands continued to wrap around him up to his shoulders. He was rolled roughly from his perch onto the ground and blinked up at the sky.
He spotted Andi and hoped the bird wouldn’t attack. Jarin had lost the advantage. At least now, he had an idea of what the Staff of the Eternal could do—as did Armir. The commander could take the knowledge back to Malene so they could prepare.
Sybbyl walked to him and squatted beside him. She went to touch his face, but Jarin moved his head away from her. Her smile was tight as she glared at him. No matter how much power she had, he would never bend to her.
Never.
“You will regret jerking away from my touch,” she vowed.
His gaze raked over her. “I doubt it.”
She quirked a brow and placed the tip of the Staff of the Eternal on his chest. The entire thing glowed white before it turned purple and ended up lavender.
Anger filled Sybbyl’s gaze. “Just as I suspected. You have no problem with witches, just the Coven. Tell me, how is Helena? Did you enjoy your time with her?”
Jarin kept all emotion from his face and eyes. He’d thought to keep his feelings about Helena to himself, but he should have expected Sybbyl to use such tactics.
The Coven leader slowly straightened and shook out the black skirts of her gown. “I took you easily, Varroki. I will do the same to Helena. She will be mine to control.”