The Silver Witch. #4
With a defeated sigh, Billy shrugged on Bronwyn’s tattered garments, tugging the threadbare fabric across his humiliated face and over his protruding belly.
“We’ll take him back to Cambas,” Fitzroy declared decisively. “Niamh can smuggle him out of the castle beneath the folds of her skirt.”
I scoffed incredulously at his plan. “You expect me to conceal a goblin who’s just regained his eyesight under my skirt?”
“Indeed,” Fitzroy replied. “He doesn’t need to go under your chemise—merely beneath a few layers of linen.”
“I’m not comfortable—”
“I’m not asking if you’re willing, I’m telling you that you are,” Fitzroy commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Narrowing my eyes in silent defiance, I glared at him, making it clear I didn’t appreciate his authority.
Unfazed, Fitzroy lifted my skirt and helped Billy scramble beneath the layers.
The goblin scarcely had a moment to enjoy his restored sight before being plunged back into darkness.
He latched onto my legs, clinging like a leech as I struggled to retrieve my gifted grimoire, which I tucked securely into the inner pocket of my cloak—a relic I refused to part with.
“I’ll accompany you to the woodland,” Isobel said as she helped Mabina to her feet. “We shall mourn Herla once Queen Regina’s dead.”
“Stop calling her a queen,” Mabina snapped. “She rules no lands—Annwn belonged to fae before she arrived.”
“This Isle will be yours once more,” Fitzroy assured Mabina, taking her hand in an affirming grip. “We shall see you in a few days. I have faith in all of you—I know you won’t fail me or the subjects of Annwn and Lyonesse.”
The three nodded as Fitzroy turned his attention to Bronwyn, now disguised.
“Don’t let Regina suspect you’re anyone other than Billy,” he cautioned.
“I’ll try my best,” Bronwyn replied, adjusting the red cap atop her head.
It was unnerving to hear Bronwyn’s voice emerge from Billy’s form.
“That’s all I ask,” Fitzroy said with a grateful smile.
Elizebeth gasped. “I almost forgot,” she muttered, sweeping her palm across Bronwyn’s transformed face.
“Wolcn hire gesiht, smogan hire gesiht, peah hero pa gaenan purh a mistig niht.” Cloud her vision, fog her sight, though she is walking through a misty night, she intoned.
The spell manifested as white swirls in Bronwyn’s irises, reminding me of clouds drifting in front of the moon to hide it.
“Cataract enchantment,” Elizebeth said. “Now even Regina will believe you’re Billy.”
Bronwyn blinked her veiled eyes a few times, as if trying to adjust to the final piece of her disguise. Leaving the chamber, Elizebeth, Mabina, Isobel, and Bronwyn—transformed into Billy—headed down one corridor, while Fitzroy, Billy, and I moved in the opposite direction.
Clinging to Fitzroy’s arm, I shuffled along the hall as Billy’s sharp nails dug into my thighs. His wandering hands crept uncomfortably close to my backside, prompting me to kick out like an agitated steed.
“Ow!” Billy yelped as my heel struck him.
We exited the castle through the same portcullis that Wolver had led us through many days earlier, moving along the familiar wall walk that stretched high above the sea.
Fitzroy pressed his fingers into his mouth and blew an almighty whistle with his hands. The noise reverberated across the waves, and through the fog emerged the glimmer of silver scales.
Greyclaw swiftly landed before us—his enormous talons broke off fragments of stone and sent chunks of granite hurtling into the waters below.
“Quick,” Fitzroy urged, lifting my skirt to pull Billy out from beneath it.
I gripped Greyclaw’s spikes as Fitzroy heaved me upward, his hands firmly pinching the backs of my thighs.
With great effort, I swung a leg over the wyvern’s sturdy neck and secured my position.
Then Fitzroy focused on Billy, seizing the goblin by his underarms and lifting him toward me.
I reached out to grasp his outstretched arms, assisting him aboard.
“Hurry!” I called, concealing Billy beneath my cloak.
Before Fitzroy could use the wyvern’s spikes to haul himself up, I caught a glimpse of silver from the corner of my eye.
“Nephew,” Regina called as she approached.
Fear rushed through me, my skin turned clammy, and sweat beaded along my brow as though I were basking in the sweltering midday sun.
Keeping Billy hidden beneath my cloak, I pressed a hand firmly over his mouth to stifle any attempt to cry for help.
“I trust you’ll rally your army to fight in my name?” Regina asked.
Fitzroy nodded firmly. “Yes, my Queen.”
Regina extended her hand toward me. Hesitantly, I unmuffled Billy to take it.
“If you betray me, you’ll regret it,” she warned, her gaze piercing mine with unnerving intensity.
I shuddered.
After her parting remark, Regina released my hand. Wasting no time, Fitzroy mounted Greyclaw, taking the front seat with Billy secretly nestled between us.
Regina watched our departure vigilantly as Fitzroy tugged firmly on the wyvern’s reins. Greyclaw ascended, his mighty wings carrying us into the skies.
I kept my eyes fixed on the wall walk below, watching Regina until the castle disappeared beneath the clouds.