Prologue
My home is burning.
I can't believe that I’m even thinking that, but as the smoke curls into the sky ahead of us, it doesn't seem as though there's any other explanation for it.
The forest that my family has lived in for generations, that has protected us, the Favored Children, from everything that has ever wished us harm, is not stopping the flames from climbing up into the air.
Tears are already falling down my face, but my legs don't stop moving underneath me. My breath soars out of my chest as I choke on not only the smoke, but the sobs bursting from out of my mouth.
I stumble, but my brother, Pemba, gets his hand underneath my elbow, holding me at his side as we both run frantically towards the flames.
This can't be happening, this can't be real .
As the smoke continues to grow thicker around us, there's no denying that it is happening, it is real.
My mother and father will be coordinating getting the coven out from our home, evacuating the area, and getting as close to the river as possible.
We're coming through the forest from the wrong side, the river is on the other side, but there's always the chance that someone could get missed in the chaos.
If there's anything we can do to help from here to get as many people out alive as we can, then we're going to do it.
My grandmother isn't very mobile. As the Crone of the coven, she's the oldest living family member at almost a thousand years old.
So I'm sure my mother prioritized getting her out, but there are still others with mobility issues.
I have ten younger brothers and sisters, some of them only toddlers.
How my parents are going to be able to keep track of them all to get them out is a scary thought.
As well as the dozens of cousins and other coven members… I feel sick to my stomach.
It only gets worse as the trees finally thin out around us, the tops of them alight and the smoke thick in the air, though, strangely, the underbrush and forest floor are untouched.
There’s magic to this fire.
For a moment, my heart sings with joy, sure that my mother has been able to protect the coven and our home to stop the fire from touching us, or maybe the forest itself has done this, caring for its Favored Children the way it always has.
But then we find the first body.
Ella was three years younger than me, on the cusp of adulthood, and a strong, wise woman in the making.
She wasn't one of the vulnerable coven members that I was worried about.
She was one of my closest friends. And with strong magic herself, there is no way that the fire could have killed her so easily.
But the three arrows tipped with black feathers in her back have done the job.
Pemba and I both slam to a halt at the sight of her, our feet simply forgetting how to work as we look down on our friend's dead body in horror.
Someone murdered her.
This fire… it's not an accident.
I stumble towards her, my hands reaching out to her as the undeniable urge to help her, to fix this, floods me. But as my hands get close to the arrows, I feel it.
Witcheswane.
The arrows have been tipped in witcheswane. Someone came here knowing exactly how to immobilize and murder a coven full of strong and capable witches. Someone had planned this all out, knowing the one herb that could instantly kill a witch no matter how strong they are.
Pemba gets his hand on the back of my arm again, pulling me back to my feet and holding my body close to him as though he's shielding me from any more arrows that might be coming our way. I can’t blame him for being overprotective like I always have.
Who's to say the murderers aren't still here?
But our family is here too, and we cannot leave them behind.
I send a silent prayer to the Goddess for Ella's soul, hoping it has found its way to Elysium, and then I make my way towards my family's hut. Fear pumps through my body, flowing through my veins alongside my blood as my body begins to shake.
Who has done this?
As the Mother of the coven, our mother and the rest of our family all live centrally, something that is terrifying now as we walk through the small village together, waiting for the attackers to jump out and kill us too.
Something compels us forward, some small part of me that knows I cannot just run away, no matter how terrified I am.
At first, I try not to look at the bodies littering the ground, but then I remember that any one of them could be my parents or my siblings.
My aunts, my uncles, my cousins, my family, my friends, everyone . Of course the bodies are known to me, of course I know them all. I know every last one of the slain witches on the ground. Every one of them are my family and friends, and they’re all dead.
Pemba curses under his breath, a broken sound, when he finds Mayra amongst the dead. He’s spent half his life being infatuated with her, hoping someday that she would look at him and feel the same way.
I hear him swallow, but he keeps moving his hands, tightening on my shoulders even more.
I'm not sure if it’s shock that has made him able to continue forward after seeing her or if the responsibility that my father had put on him to protect me on our trip still has a hold over him, but he moves me on without a word.
When we get to our family’s hut, I almost don't want to open the door, but Pemba just reaches beyond me to give it a shove and lets it swing open.
The scent of blood hits my nostrils, and I fall to my knees.
Whoever it is that came for us, the Ravenswyrd Coven, they took everything from me.
Even the children.