“You still intend to kill him?” Aveta asked softly, terrified by the picture Rhiannon painted with her words.
“That was always the plan, little witch,” Rhiannon answered bluntly. “Only the manner in which he dies will change now. I do not want to wait years to take his magic piece by piece. I want it all immediately.” Rhiannon moved to a rock ledge and plucked up a bronze bowl. “But, first, I must take care of you.”
Aveta clutched her belly as she staggered to her feet, her body stiff and sore from the curse Rhiannon had hurled at her earlier. The other woman’s black eyes dropped to where Aveta’s hand lay on her stomach.
“You are with child,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling with glee. “Oh, this will be the day I finally become as the goddess. Any offspring of you two will carry more magic than any being born before.”
Fear pierced through the shock that had dulled Aveta’s senses. She could not allow this to happen.
Goddess, give me strength, she prayed silently.And may the god grant me the skill to defeat such evil.
For the first time since Rhiannon had taken her, Aveta felt the power inside her stir. She could sense the god and goddess once again. The barrier that Rhiannon had erected against them was flimsy in comparison to the deep well of magic they possessed.
Drawing from that well, Aveta lifted her arms. She did not speak the ancient tongue, nor did she invoke a spell. Gathering pure power and spooling it within her, she became the conduit, directing unadulterated energy toward Rhiannon.
The dark witch laughed, raising a hand as if to block the attack. Then the wave slammed into her, throwing her back against the cave wall and pinning her. Her amusement instantly faded, her glee replaced with a snarl.
Aveta felt an invisible wind swirling about her, lifting the ends of her hair and tugging at her skirts. The power flowed through her, warm and promising. “I will not let you harm anyone, Rhiannon,” she vowed, releasing the dark sorceress and watching as she fell into a heap on the floor.
Rhiannon lay facedown on the stone, utterly still. Aveta released the breath she held. The witch was unconscious and now would be the opportune time to bind her, both physically and with magic.
Aveta saw a pile of coarse rope in the corner and realized that Rhiannon had intended to do exactly the same to her. Fitting that the dark witch would be on the receiving end of such treatment, Aveta thought.
When she moved to pick up the coiled rope, Rhiannon pushed herself to her knees, her hand slicing through the air as she hurled a clay jar toward Aveta. There was no time to evade the potion as the jar shattered at Aveta’s feet, spewing droplets of the potion into the air and all over her.
“By my hand, the bonds are broken. Life everlasting, yet forever alone. Your beloved forgotten and your heart of stone. By my will, so shall it be!”
Aveta felt something snap within her as her bond with Alaunus was severed. She cried out at the sudden emptiness, her hands tearing at the bodice of her dress. The pain was unimaginable.
Every candle in the cavern was suddenly extinguished and Aveta screamed again as she dropped into an infinite darkness.
