Chapter Six
In a matter of seconds, the storm intensified from a gentle drizzle to a torrential downpour, as if the gods themselves mourned this day. I braced my bare feet on the sopping wet ground and joined hands with the other high witches. All of whom agreed to help kill the would-be queen we all loved and adored.
Annorah found a way to save everyone—everyone except herself. Some small part of me knew the gods would reward her selfless act, though I couldn’t be certain. I heard nothing from Erezos since his warning.
Together, we prepared to decant Annorah’s mana into the medium-sized stone chest. Constructed with quartz from The Aupex Mountain, our efforts to commission the vessel had been hasty and discreet. Now, with hands clasped, encircling Annorah, a golden shield radiated intense heat. The force of it burned my face as it spread across the princess.
Channeled energy from her stone giants took form in wisps of flowing light. It swept past us in all directions, arching over our circle, converging into a single beam focused at the center. The giants” monolithic bodies not only acted as conduits for the spell but as capable guardians, ready to defend against any threat.
For a moment, I thought the storm switched directions, then I noticed the shield, hovering inches above Annorah, emitted a phantom wind. It whipped around, a wrathful beast, snaring the breath from my lungs. I fought to stay upright and kept chanting.
Some witches squeezed their eyes shut, while others stared, unblinking, despite the spell’s intense golden light. With the potency of a falling star, the shield slammed to the ground, surrounding Annorah. It dispersed into a million shimmering pieces, and my grip on my mother’s hand tightened. The blast hit us with such force we flew apart like leaves in a gust of wind.
Ribs aching from the blow, I sat up. Breathless but unharmed, I looked around at the others. We locked eyes and, as if sensing one another’s desperate thoughts, we scrambled to reconnect the circle. We could not leave this spell half-done for long. If the soul caught onto what we were up to and resisted, it could unravel everything.
As soon as our hands met, Annorah’s ruby eyes shot open. Her features twisted into a grimace of pure torment as she lurched in a violent gasp for air. My heart stuttered, and just as quickly, she stilled. A gurgled sob wrenched past my lips. Despite the pain that wracked my bones, this was no time for grief.
Wind surged, whipping rain against my back in merciless lashes. Then, as a translucent purple cloud rose from Annorah’s body, entirely unbothered by the surrounding torrent, all sound, all traces of the raging storm dissipated. It was as if we stood within a glass dome.
We watched, still focused on performing the spell, but astonished by the display before us. The stone giants” power poured in from the crest, a stark contrast to that strange violet cloud leaving our lost princess.
I looked a bit closer at that deep lavender hue. It was undoubtedly Annorah’s—her essence was unmistakable. Though, as it lifted from her, entwined like a whispered shadow, was a soft layer of green. The two floating energies resembled the Borealis lights that graced the northern mountains.
Realization sank like a stone in my gut. We cast our spell to draw out her mana, but somehow, her essence entangled itself around it. It grasped on with its own ethereal might instead of freeing itself, retreating to the veil.
“Focus, ladies,” I called. “We must separate the mana from her soul before it enters the vessel.”
Our eyes closed, and we murmured the words in unison. We shifted the intention of the spell to separate the two layers, ensuring Annorah’s mana remained while her spirit ascended to find peace. As we did, the purple cloud receded into the stone chest as planned. The subtle green hue lifted toward the sky just as it did when the druids ushered a creature’s soul to the veil.
We worked at the continuous feed as it flowed, on and on, from Annorah’s body. Our spell pulled at the tendrils of mist, separating them like undoing yarn from a spindle. Things seemed to be going smoothly, and we settled into an acceptable rhythm.
Then the chest vibrated, emitting a low hum. It grew louder, more violent until it shook so uncontrollably that it shrieked like cleaving marble. The piercing resonance threatened to shatter our eardrums, causing all of us to clasp our hands over our ears. Through narrowed eyes, I peered at the chest to find the bright, purple-hued light of Annorah’s mana spilling over its edges. It’s full.
“It’s full!” I lifted my voice over the relentless howl, but only those close by heard me. “It’s full! We need another vessel!”
My head snapped in every direction, failure clawing at my heart, desperate to find anything we could use. This was an unknown territory of mana that I never expected. We would have to split Annorah’s power in half to contain it within this realm, but I was nowhere near sure if it was possible or what the ramifications would be.
“Your staff, Sidelle!” Saura, the Oakrend coven high witch and my adoptive mother, shouted over the clamor. With her arms pressed close to her head, body curled, agony distorted her features.
I glanced up at the stone giants, their faces mirroring our torture. Some fell to their knees, desperately fighting through their pain.
With the last of my resolve, I pried my palms from my ears and reached forward, slamming the chest shut. The intolerable, deafening screams cut short.
Anguish battled within as I dropped to my knees and grasped Annorah’s limp hand in mine. Her skin had already begun to take on the placid coolness of death. Bile and grief rose in my throat, but I had to move fast. I retrieved the small dagger strapped to my thigh, sliced Annorah’s ivory skin at the wrist, and squeezed what thickening blood I could onto the chest, praying there was enough soul still present to seal it, ensuring that this half of her magic was safe within.
There was a hiss of stone locking onto itself. It was done. I tossed my staff into the center of the spell and stood to clasp hands once more with my sisters. We stood in solemn solidarity, determined to hold true to our vow and fulfill our princess’, our friend’s, dying wish.
Shifting our focus again, we coaxed out the last of Annorah’s mana set on separating it from her spirit. But the soul, tired of our meddling, had grown suspicious. It clung to what remained of her mana.
“Keep going!” I urged them on.
The stone giants poured their energy into the spell, supplementing our depleted power. We wrestled tirelessly to free the two energies. Though when the soul lost its grasp, it didn’t release into the veil. It lingered, surrounding us in a thick green mist, obstructing our vision.
Just as the last smoky tendrils of energy separated from her body, an explosion erupted. The ground rocked beneath our feet and the translucent dome shattered. The concussive blast slammed into my chest, and everything went dark.
I woke to a dull ache in my head and the pained, worried voices of my sisters. When I pushed myself upright, the world swayed. I pressed my forehead to my knees until it settled enough for me to take in my surroundings.
The others appeared disheveled, some minor cuts and bruises, though altogether unharmed. Annorah’s body lay utterly still. I moved closer to retrieve my staff. The water-logged grass soaked into my knees as I knelt beside her. Biting my tongue against the building sob, I collected the last drops of blood on her delicate wrist, smearing the crimson onto my staff’s moonstone. It flashed a brilliant glimmer of light, an ethereal glow, signaling the mana was safe within. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
I gripped the staff with new meaning. My fingers traced the wooden grooves, then I stood, taking in the vast field. Devastation plunged through me. Annorah’s stone giants were obliterated. I dropped to my knees, eyes locked in grief on the crumbled bodies cast in all directions. Footsteps approached from behind, and Saura settled her palm on my shoulder.
“Sidelle, honey. We need to talk,” she whispered.
I blinked away the haze of tears and clasped onto her wrist, peering up at her. “What is it?” I asked, voice trembling and unsteady. I didn’t think I could bear another shred of bad news. “Are the witches alright?”
“Yes, dear. We’re fine.” Her tone was calm, but earnest. “It’s the chest.”
I stood, frantic. It was gone.
“Where is it!?”
Saura urged me to meet her eyes. She pressed my hand to her heart while my frenzied gaze scoured the surrounding hills. “Sidelle! Sidelle, look at me!”
A hollow breath snagged my throat, and I forced myself to obey.
“It’s gone!” she said. “It’s gone, honey.”
I tugged out of her hold. Wet hair slicked to my cheeks as I twisted, searching. “What do you mean? It can’t be gone!”
Saura followed me, tight on my heels. “Her soul, the other half of Annorah’s soul–”
When I spun around in a fury, she came to an abrupt halt. Her wet curls framed her stricken face. Again, she grasped my shaky hands in hers.
“Annorah’s soul,” she shook her head as if trying to make sense of it, “it stole the chest and escaped through the veil.”