The spell protecting them was broken.
“We’ll burn them, too,” said Seraphine, getting to her feet to help drag the sisters out of the water. “Just to be safe.”
Gideon gave Rune a squeeze before letting her go and rising to help them.
When it was done, and all three former witch queens were nothing but ash on the wind, Seraphine glanced at something in the distance.
Rune stood and turned to look. Gideon and Antonio stepped up beside her, watching as six figures appeared at the water’s edge. Each one shaped like a woman, glowing faintly. As if they were made of moonlight.
Rune stared with her mouth agape.
“Is that…?”
Seraphine walked slowly toward them, her humanity receding with every step she took, until she, too, was as bright as the moon.
But she didn’t join them. Not yet. Pausing, she turned to face Rune. The lines of her face were the same, and her hair still billowed like a cloud around her head. But she was flesh and blood no longer; she was something else.
“Goodbye, Rune Winters.”
Her voice was still Seraphine’s, but not Seraphine’s. It was like the wind, howling through a tunnel in the rock. It was the sea in a hurricane. Fierce, mighty.
She touched Rune’s cheek, the pads of her fingers soft as a butterfly’s wings. “Kestrel would be proud.”
And then she was gone. Turning away to join her ancient sisters.
When they were together once more, they disappeared like the stars at dawn. Retreating to the world beyond this one.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
LAILA CREED STRODE THROUGHthe stone halls of the Rookery, the sounds inside waking with the dawn. Sunlight filtered in through the windows as the sky flared pink over the sea. The soldiers behind her dragged their hostage down to the mess hall, where a platoon of Blood Guard officers was enjoying breakfast.
The Cascadian Army—what Laila and her soldiers had started calling themselves on the journey here—had snuck into the heavily fortified citadel last night, through the servants’ quarters, where Blood Guard officers loyal to Gideon Sharpe had let them in, given them arms, and now padded out their ranks.
“Laila… Laila,please.”
“Shut him up,” she barked, shoving open the double doors leading into the mess hall.
The Cascadian Army filed in behind her, lining up against the walls, marching through the aisles between tables, armed with the weapons belonging to the men and women currently eating.
Laila halted. Every head bobbed up to stare at her.
“Listen here!” She shouted so her voice would be heard across the mess hall. “As of now, you have new orders.”
The two soldiers behind her stepped forward with the hostage, shoving him to his knees. Along with his wrists being bound behind his back, Noah Creed’s mouth was now gagged.As every soldier in the hall stared in shock at their Good Commander, he lowered his gaze to the floor.
“Effective immediately, no one is to be hunted or harmed for being a witch, and all purgings are outlawed.”
“Says who?” shouted some wiseass three tables over.
Laila glanced over to find four of her soldiers already dealing with him.
“Says Commander Gideon Sharpe,” she growled.
At Gideon’s name, a hush fell over the hall.
“You have three choices before you.” She held up her index finger. “You can enlist in the Cascadian Army and begin reporting to Commander Sharpe.” She held up another finger. “You can hand over your uniform and go home.” She held up a third. “You can be hauled off to prison, where you will spend the rest of your days rotting in a cell next to this piece of shit.” She nodded to her brother, cowering on the floor, and shoved him with her foot. “Anyone unclear about any of that?”
No one raised their hands.
