by Donna Grant
“Magic is easily overlooked,” he stated in a soft voice. He turned his head to the darkness. “The Coven doesn’t know of us because we don’t wish them to. Much as you and yours have kept to the shadows.”
“If you can get that close to me, why not get to Eleanor and kill her.”
Jarin shot her a flat look. “If any of us were able to, we would have.”
“So you’re just going to follow them around?”
“We know more about what’s going on within the Coven than you do. You chase your tail, trying to figure out what the witches plan to do next.”
Leoma sat forward. “What are they doing?”
Jarin stared at her a long moment before he said, “They’re after an object.”
“What object?”
“The Blood Skull.”
She slowly sat back. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not. It’s a relic from the first witch to ever have magic. It is said that her power was so strong that it’s even in her bones.”
Leoma sat down the remaining bread. “I hope your people are guarding the witch’s tomb then.”
“If only it were that easy. You see, the witch’s bones were scattered across multiple countries.”
“Tell me you at least know where the skull is?” The more the warlock spoke, the more anxious Leoma became.
He shook his head. “We do not. However, the Coven somehow discovered it.”
“Why does this involve Braith?”
“I do not know.”
Leoma let the news digest as she tried to determine her next move.
Jarin spoke, breaking into her thoughts. “Finish the bread, and then rest, Hunter. We start before dawn.”
She ate because she was still hungry, but there was no sleep for her. Though she closed her eyes, she didn’t allow herself to drift off. Not even when Jarin rolled onto his side and promptly fell asleep, or when the wolf returned and lay at the warlock’s back.
All Leoma could think about was Braith, the Blood Skull, and how they might be connected. She pulled her cloak over her to ward off the chill. How she missed Braith’s warmth and his arms around her.
When the sky turned a pale blue as night receded, she sat up and stretched her neck. She looked over at Jarin to find his unusual eyes locked on her. He rolled into a sitting position, and the wolf trotted off to do who knew what.
“Is he your traveling companion?”
Jarin stood and glanced at the wolf before the animal disappeared into the copse of trees. “I found him when he was a pup and raised him. I belong to Valdr as much as he belongs to me.”
“He’s quite intimidating,” she admitted.
The warlock walked to her and squatted down beside her. “I’ll be sure to let him know you think that. Now, let’s check this wound.”
She had forgotten about her injury since it no longer pained her. When he removed the disc of dirt and leaves, she waited to feel a twinge, but there was nothing.
“Ah,” he said with a grin. “Perfect.”
Leoma looked at her shoulder to see the wound healed except for a pink scar puckered where her skin had melded back together. Her head snapped to him. “You used magic?”
“Herbs,” he replied as he tossed aside the remnants of the disc. “And magic. Magic can only do so much.”
Edra had once said much the same thing to her. Leoma tested her shoulder to find that it was almost good as new, as if a dagger hadn’t embedded in her shoulder. “Thank you.”
He bowed his head. “I hope this goes a long way to proving that you can trust me.”
“Do you trust me?”
His lips twisted in a half-smile. “As much as I can.”
“I feel the same.”
Jarin stood and held out his hand. “Shall we?”
She took his hand as he pulled her to her feet. Leoma put on her vest and cloak again while Jarin doused the fire with more magic, then she went to the horse.
“Valdr will not bother the stallion,” Jarin said as he walked up beside her.
She smiled as the horse nudged her. “He’s Braith’s. He tried to follow his master. I think he stays with me because he knows I’m going after Braith.”
“And because he trusts you.”
Her head swiveled to Jarin. “You can speak to animals?”
“Sadly, I do not have such a gift. I just understand animals better than most.”
“Are there more Varroki out there waiting to attack the Coven?”
He leaned upon his staff that he put before him, clasping both hands on the wood. “It’s just me. For now.”
“I’m ready to fight them before they reach wherever they’re going for the skull.”
“It may come to that,” Jarin said. “Until then, we track them.”
Braith woke to find the gray-haired woman smiling at him. He looked around and saw no one else. But he knew they were out there.
“Did you sleep well?”
It irritated him that he still heard Leoma’s voice when the woman spoke. He made himself grin as he faced her. “Aye. I did some thinking last night. I’m tired of running from the Coven.”
Her eyes widened. “You want to fight them? Even knowing you cannot kill a witch?”
“I’m a knight. Running from a foe isn’t something I do. I hate looking over my shoulder.”
She shifted, her face falling and settling into the lines of a frown. “We don’t know what the Coven wants with you. It’s better that we keep moving until we can meet up with other Hunters.”
If there had been any doubt in him that he wasn’t with Leoma, the woman’s words sealed it for him. While he was in the Coven’s hold, he was going to make things difficult for them.
“You sent word to them two days ago. They’ll be looking for us,” he lied.
The woman didn’t bat an eyelash as she replied, “I’ll let them know where we’re at so as not to worry them.”
“Wouldn’t it be more prudent to go to them so the Coven and however many of those evil witches are following us can face off?”
The woman slowly smiled. “You are ready for battle, aren’t you?”
“I was born into it.”
“It makes you a formidable adversary.”
He got to his feet. “We’re wasting daylight.”
The woman was slower to rise. No longer did he see Leoma’s svelte figure with black leather molded to her body. Instead, he saw a red gown and a wrinkled hand.
“Lead the way,” he told her.
Braith fell into step behind her. He looked over his shoulder, hoping for some sight of Leoma. His mind refused to believe that she wasn’t out there following them.
When he turned around, he squared his shoulders and put one foot in front of the other. It felt as if he were being led to his death, and in fact, that’s probably exactly what was happening.
Though he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
He touched the hilt of his sword, not at all surprised that he still had it since it couldn’t kill a witch. As he walked, he glanced down at his boot, looking for Leoma’s dagger that he kept there, but it was gone.
With no blade to kill a witch, Braith would have to bide his time until he could get his hands on another weapon. Or Leoma could catch up with him.
“How far is this secret place?” he asked.
“We should reach it by tonight.”
The news soured his already hostile disposition. He had only a few hours to get away from the Coven. Until he knew how many witches surrounded him, he couldn’t accurately come up with a plan.
They walked in silence until they stopped midday to rest and eat. The woman left to hunt, and he didn’t argue with her. He used the time to walk around the area, looking for signs of anyone else.
He caught a whiff of body odor that left him nauseous. It would be easy to know when that person tried to sneak up on him. He also made out half a footprint. It was smaller than his, most likely a woman’s.
Despi
te his search, he found no other evidence. Either there wasn’t anyone else out there, or they were very good at hiding themselves.
When he returned to their resting place, the woman was already there with a fire going. He came to stand across the flames from her. “That was quick hunting.”
“You know how good I am.”
“I do, but that was quick. Even for you.”
The woman held his gaze as she stood. After a moment, the fuzziness around her that kept trying to put Leoma’s face on hers stopped. “What a surprise you are. How long have you known?”
He didn’t bother to act as if he didn’t know what she meant. “Since last night.”
The woman lifted a hand, and eight witches along with a portly man came into sight. “Just so you know, it’s pointless to attempt an escape.”
He glared at her. “Just so you know, you’re going to lose.”
Chapter 25
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Leoma was glad to have Jarin with her. Though she could track, he had a gift for it that left her amazed. Of course, it helped to have a wolf as a friend.
Valdr rarely strayed far from Jarin. There were times while observing them that Leoma saw the pair move as one as if they could read each other’s thoughts.
Just as Jarin had said, the wolf didn’t bother the stallion. But as a precaution, she made sure to keep the horse and Valdr as far from each other as possible. So far, they were all getting along fine.
Jarin led their small group, often stopping to survey the land before setting off again. She remained on the stallion and kept an eye behind her for any other surprises.
Mid-morning, they reached the spot where it was obvious the Coven and Braith had bedded down for the night. She dismounted and studied the ground around the cold remains of a fire.
“There were only two of them here,” she said.
Jarin’s face was lined with unease. “The rest were spread out and hidden. Until this morning. Their tracks led to you.”
Leoma looked to where he pointed and found evidence of others on either side of her and behind her. “I don’t understand.”
“How do you think they convinced Braith to leave the castle without restraints?”
She swallowed and looked away. “You saw the same thing I did. He ran right to them.”
“But why didn’t he fight them? Why didn’t he return for you?”
Her head swiveled back to Jarin, hating that he was making her say aloud the very thoughts that had plagued her since the castle. “He wouldn’t have left me. Which means he thought he was running toward me.”
Jarin nodded slowly, compassion softening his lips. “There were only two sets of tracks at the fire. The deeper set was Braith’s.”
“And the other is Eleanor,” Leoma said. “Posing as me.”
“There are no signs of a struggle. Either Eleanor is using magic to convince Braith to stay with her, or he’s united with the Coven.”
Leoma took a step toward the warlock, anger making her voice come out harsh. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“I do not believe he would,” Jarin replied calmly. “I’m stating our options.”
“What changed this morning, then?”
The warlock’s gaze went to his wolf, who was sniffing at the ground where the Coven had set off. “How much does Braith know of magic?”
“Not a lot. He was only recently acquainted with it when we ended up tracking the same witch. I was hunting Brigitta because she killed a friend. He was after her because she murdered his ward. I attempted to ensure that he couldn’t find us, but he was better than I expected.”
Jarin leaned against his staff with a grin. “He’s resourceful. That’s good to know. What happened?”
“He tracked Brigitta and me into a Witch’s Grove.”
The warlock’s smile faded as shock filled his face. “Braith willingly walked into a Grove? Alone?”
Her brows rose as she nodded. “He was that bent on revenge. I was waiting for the right time to attack Brigitta, but he came at her from behind. He discovered his sword couldn’t harm her, and she cut him.”
“Magic in the blood,” Jarin said, distaste filling his visage.
“There was a skirmish, and I managed to get Braith out. I had herbs given to me for just such an encounter with a witch. I used them on Braith.”
Jarin straightened as he said, “Ah. That’s it, then.”
“What?”
“Once someone’s blood is poisoned with magic and then they are healed with it, that person can push through the veil of any powers used on them if they’re strong enough mentally.”
Leoma glanced at the ground. “Braith is strong enough.”
“So, he saw through Eleanor’s magic. That is quite a feat,” Jarin stated, impressed. “I cannot imagine that Eleanor would have dropped her disguise already.”
Leoma followed the trail of footprints away. “Then why is he still with them? Why isn’t he fighting to get away?”
“Because he’s smart. He knows there is nowhere he can go while surrounded by witches. He has no desire to have magic used on him again either. To keep his head clear and focused, he’s going along with what they want for the time being.”
“Then we need to get to him.”
Jarin began to turn when the shrill cry of a falcon stopped him in his tracks. His face turned upward as a smile curved his lips.
She followed his gaze and spotted a dark shape circling above them. The bird gave another cry before diving straight for Jarin. Suddenly, the falcon spread its wings and reached its talons out as Jarin held up his arm.
Leoma watched in utter amazement as the bird perched. A moment later, the falcon’s penetrating gaze turned on her.
“She’s magnificent,” Leoma said.
Jarin ran his hand down the bird’s feathers. “That she is. We have a message.”
Leoma watched while Jarin freed the small roll of paper from the falcon’s leg while Valdr came to sit beside Jarin. As the warlock read the message, something butted Leoma from behind. She turned to find the stallion.
“We’re getting close,” she whispered to the horse while stroking his nose. “Soon, you’ll be reunited with Braith.”
“I’m to stop the Coven.”
She lifted her head to look at Jarin. “It’s a good thing we already decided to do that.”
There was a slight grin on his lips when he said, “I didn’t need to be told to attack. Armir, the second in command of the Varroki, wants me to know that he guessed my intentions. Because they would have been his, as well.”
“Any chance we’ll get Armir to help?”
Jarin rolled the message back up and dropped it in the bag slung across is chest. “He will never leave Blackglade and our Lady. Only if Malene ventures out will he join her.”
“Perhaps we need to get Malene here.”
He simply grunted in response. “My people remain hidden for a reason. None of the leaders have ventured from our land. Our Lady protects our people.”
Jarin whispered something to the falcon who flew off before he knelt to look at the footprints leading away. Without a word, he jogged away with the wolf at his side.
Leoma vaulted up on the horse and set out after them. They moved quickly over the terrain, and with each hour that passed, Jarin’s face grew tighter and tighter.
She couldn’t dispel the notion that they were headed to something she wanted no part of. Hunting down rogue witches of the Coven had been her objective from the beginning, but now she was on a path to something much grander.
Something she wasn’t prepared for.
Something she feared.
But she wouldn’t stop. She had a target to take out—and her man to find.
When Jarin halted, she drew the stallion up beside him. The warlock was breathing heavily as he gazed ahead of them over the rolling landscape. He pushed the hood of his cloak back and pointed with the tip of his staff.
“They’ve increased their s
peed of travel.”
Leoma frowned, not sure she’d heard him right. “How? They’re on foot?”
He shot her a flat look and lowered his weapon. “You were raised with magic. Why do you forget it?”
“Do you forget that I don’t have it?”
“Nay, but you overlook the fact that you’re dealing with the Coven, who uses it for their gain. I gather your teacher did not?”
Leoma shoved aside the hair that lifted in the wind and blew over her face. “Rarely.”
“If you’re going to win, you need to remember that magic rules the Coven. They use it for anything and everything. Don’t trust your eyes or your ears.”
She shifted atop the horse. “Then how am I to fight them?”
“With your heart.”
“I was trained with a blindfold before. I know to open my senses.”
Jarin stuck the end of his staff into the ground and faced her. “Your senses can be deceived.”
“So can the heart.”
“Not with magic.”
She stared at him a moment before shaking her head in confusion. “You talk as if it will be just the two of us going in after the Coven.”
“Because it will be.”
Leoma lifted her gaze but saw nothing in the distance that suggested the Coven’s destination. “Do you know where they’re going?”
“I have a suspicion,” he replied cryptically.
She slid her gaze to his. “Which is?”
“A place no one wants to be.”
“A Witch’s Grove?”
He gave a shake of his blond head. “Worse. An Altar.”
Her stomach knotted at the word, even though she had no context to go along with it. It was the way Jarin said it. As if it were the worst place he had ever been.
“What is it?”
His brow furrowed. “I wonder if your teacher knows so little or if she has kept things from you in an attempt to shield you.”
“I cannot answer that. Though I intend to find out later. Right now, I’d like to know why the Altar bothers you.”
Jarin sunk his hands into the fur at the wolf’s neck. “It was a place used thousands of years ago for punishments and sacrifices. It’s a place drenched in blood.”