Chapter 37
Stars glittered through the breaks in the clouds.
A faint glow on the horizon heralded the coming dawn.
The witch’s power would begin to wane soon.
Clouds scudded above them, unnaturally fast even with the mounting wind.
It was like there was a hole above the nest, pulling everything toward it.
Toward a place of darkness and death. A place that shouldn’t exist in this world.
The tree branches creaked and swayed. Occasionally, there would be a crash as dead wood fell to the earth.
Casrian ignored it. Nothing but distraction.
The witch was in her nest.
She’d kill them if she could, escape if she couldn’t.
And they couldn’t let this witch escape.
She was too strong. The river was right there.
If she crossed it, they couldn’t follow.
Not only did they not have boats, but they were under orders not to chase anything across the border.
It was too dangerous. He didn’t want this evil nested on the other side of the river.
He and Emrys were in agreement. They’d surround the fort. Pick off what familiars they could. Make sure the witch stayed put until dawn. Kill her if she tried to run.
It took only a moment to relay the plan to his men. He looked around him. They were all exhausted, battered and on edge. The witch’s influence was strongest here at the nest.
“We keep her contained until dawn and then we go in. There are at least a dozen familiars at the fort, but there are probably more in the woods. They’ll be drawn here.
You’ll need to watch your backs as well as the nest.” He drew a rough map in the dirt.
The fort was at the center. He’d marked off the area near the river as Emrys’s.
There were three points to cover: the crumbled back wall, the gate, and the riverbank.
“Lew and Daris, you’re here.” He pointed at the map. “Ty and Zac, I want you positioned between the fort and our camp. I’ll take this spot where I’ll be able to see Emrys’s men as well and signal them if there’s a breach.”
Daris shook his head. “You shouldn’t be alone there. Everyone else is paired.”
“We don’t have enough men.”
“Pull Asher. He’s exhausted but not injured. Put a crossbow in his hands. He can at least watch your back. This spot—” he tapped a point between the fort and the camp “—is our strongest position. You could even leave one of the twins there and take the other with you.”
Zac and Ty exchanged a glance. They didn’t like to be separated, but they’d do as they were ordered.
“It’s fine. I can handle myself.”
He didn’t want to pull Asher away from Rowan. She still hadn’t opened her eyes.
Daris opened his mouth to argue but then turned his head at the rustle of leaves behind them. Asher called out a greeting several moments before he stepped into the light cast by the lantern. He had a sword strapped to his waist and a crossbow slung over his shoulder. “Where do you need me?”
“Why aren’t you with Rowan?”
Asher’s brows rose. “Grigor has her. Emrys said you needed me here.”
Emrys was a meddling ass. He couldn’t argue. His men would see that as a weakness and he needed to stay focused.
“Come on then.” He grabbed the signal flare Emrys had given to him and headed toward Kenzi. “You’re with me.”
“She’s all right,” Asher said quietly as they parted with the rest of the company and moved into position. “She’s in pain but awake.”
Casrian shot him a dark look. “And that’s good?”
Asher maneuvered the horse he’d borrowed from Emrys’s medic around some brush. “I don’t like that she’s in pain, but the head wound is more concerning. It’s good that she’s conscious.”
They rode to a spot above the fort, watching the shadows carefully.
There was movement in the woods—the wind and the creaking branches, what sounded like small animals scurrying away.
They crossed an open space littered with stone.
He thought there had once been a building here, a stable or an inn.
And then they were beneath the trees again, circling the fort.
They stopped when they came to the top of a hill. Below was the river, a dark band separating them from the Black Woods and the mountains beyond. Emrys’s men would be at the bottom of the hill, blocking the witch’s retreat to the water. To their left was the fort.
She was still in there. He could feel it, that dark pull, repulsive and alluring at the same time. Raw power swirling in the chill air.
“She used a charm,” Asher said.
A chill ran down Casrian’s back. “Rowan?”
He’d thrown away all of her charms. Where did she get it?
“It’s how we got away from the witch.” Asher’s voice grew hoarse. “It’s what burned her hand. The witch came down to the cell to taunt us. To taunt Rowan. She’d already grown bored of playing with me.”
“What did she say?”
Asher wouldn’t look at him. “Lots of things. You know how they are. It doesn’t mean anything.”
He felt a thread of sympathy for them both, even as he wished Asher would tell him what the witch said.
Witches were able to draw out your deepest, darkest fears.
They pressed at every weak spot in your mind and spirit.
At the same time, he couldn’t fault Asher for holding his silence.
He was trying to protect Rowan. She deserved that.
“Go on,” he prompted as they moved closer to the fort. They couldn’t get much closer on horseback from this direction, but they had a good sightline. If the witch broke this way, they’d be able to signal for help and use the crossbow bolts to contain her for a while.
“It was a fire charm she had in her pocket. I told her we shouldn’t use it, but she did it anyway. I could have stopped her. Should I have stopped her?”
“You got out,” Casrian told him. “That’s the important thing.”
Asher sighed as he looked down at the fort. “I don’t think she cared if the witch used it to ensnare her so long as she took the witch down with her. She’s brave. Braver than me anyway.”
There was a bitter twist to his voice. Asher had never been as callous as the others. It made him a good medic, but he sometimes beat himself up about it.
“Rowan wouldn’t have made it out that door without you.”
“She had to hold the charm against the witch’s body to trigger it. Her hand—” His voice went rough. “I don’t know if she’ll be able to use her hand again.”
Casrian’s stomach turned. “She’ll be all right.”
She was alive.
If there was one thing he’d learned about Rowan, it was that she’d climb back to her feet. She didn’t give up.
“I should have been the one to do it,” Asher said. “I didn’t think it would work, the charm. Not down there. She has fae blood, doesn’t she? That’s why Emrys put her in irons.”
Casrian’s jaw clenched at the thought of her bound wrists. “Yes. Her mother has fae blood as well, though it seems stronger in Rowan. I don’t know anything about her father except that he was a soldier.”
He had to have fae blood as well, though no one in Jarn had mentioned any peculiarities in the family.
When he got back home, he intended to scour the Academy’s library, question the priest scholars.
Someone must know more about her magic and the danger it represented.
The trick was going to be how to find the answers without placing a target on her back.
If she woke up.
If she didn’t run the moment she opened her eyes.
Casrian stopped moving forward at the edge of a drop. “Did anything else happen that I should know about?”
Asher looked away, down the brush-strangled hillside. “Nothing that’s mine to share.”
He stared at Asher’s stubbornly set jaw and considered whether to press for more. He decided against it.
“Whatever happened in there, the two of you made it out,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to second guess you. Don’t let anyone else second guess you. We weren’t in there. You were.”
Asher blew out an unsteady breath. “Yeah, I know. It will take awhile to let it go.”
“We’re here for you. All of us. Anything you need.”
He wished Asher had stayed with Rowan and sent Grigor in his stead. Asher shouldn’t have to face the witch again so soon. But it was his choice. Maybe facing her, watching her die, would help him heal.
They found a spot where they had a clear view of this side of the fort, from the front gate where Emrys was positioned to the tower where the Cardis brothers waited. Asher took up a spot a dozen feet away from him and watched the woods while he stared at the ruins below.
He couldn’t see any movement, but that wasn’t reassuring. The witch wouldn’t wait much longer. Every second brought them closer to dawn when her powers would be weakest.
A flare went up, arcing into the dark sky. Red and wavering, it reached a high peak and then started to fade as it fell.
They moved, guiding the horses down the steep hill, angling toward the river. The witch had decided to make a break for Caetris. They’d need to cut her off before she reached the river.
Emrys’s men had already engaged the familiars. Those unnerving wails rose up, echoing on water and stone. The ground seemed to move as the witch’s power drew those large, flat-backed bugs to the surface. They smelled like rot as they were crushed beneath the horse’s hooves.
The sky darkened with clouds and flying things. Vultures, he thought, though they seemed uncommonly large. The animals in the mountains were already strange. It didn’t mean they were familiars. He kept an eye on them all the same.
The sounds of fighting came to him—shouts from the men, those unnerving wails from the familiars. Another flare indicated that the witch was moving south. They came to more open ground and spurred the horses to a run.