The man drew a dagger from his sleeve and picked up a golden goblet. He pushed back the sleeve on his arm, revealing milky white skin, and ran the blade over his palm, allowing a river of crimson to dribble into the cup. He then stepped toward the altar, and all the other figures threw off their robes simultaneously. They were mostly middle-aged, of various body heights and weights. The witches began to dance clockwise around the altar, singing a song guttural and ancient.
The six women and seven men began dancing wildly as they continued to sing. The man in the red robe traced a rune onto the chests of the others one at a time with the blood he’d gathered in the goblet. Then he stepped back, and all the men strode to the altar while the women continued to dance. I couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but they seemed to be weaving some sort of spell.
Freya sucked in a breath. “I recognize the song as one calling on the ancients to bless them with power and youth. I believe they’re also blessing this place, perhaps the house as well.”
“Okay, but where is Auggie?” I asked, growing impatient. I knew he wouldn’t be sacrificed until later, but his absence made me nervous. I wanted to see him, to assure myself that he was all right.
“There,” Narcissa said, scrutinizing the altar. “Don’t you see it? The air is shimmering.”
I squinted at the figures, searching, until I saw it. The air before the altar shimmered; a blue energy seeming to crackle over it every few seconds. Beneath the shimmering air was a stone base, runes etched into it. A portal. Power was funneling to these witches from it.
“It’s a portal,” Freya confirmed before I voiced it myself. “That’s why he’s not here. Sacrifices are occurring elsewhere.”
“They could be anywhere,” I said, heart thumping. “We have to find out where he is.”
“Of course,” Freya agreed. “I’ll track his location.” Who knew that rune on him would be used to undo the very goal it was placed for. Her fingertips began to glow as she traced a rune in the air. After a moment, she lowered her hand, the rune dispersing all at once.
“Well?”
She shook her head. “He’s nowhere even close to this location. Wherever that portal leads, it’s far from here.”
My cheek twitched. “Then we’ll need to extract the location from these fine gentlefolk.”
“I can assist with that. I’ve had a week to harness conjuring winds. It shouldn’t be too different to generate a little more force.” Freya lifted her hand to trace another rune. Wind began to tear through the clearing, and the men and women paused in their dancing to brace themselves, looking around in confusion.
Freya held up a hand before the rune she created, stepping out from the safety of the trees. She turned her hand on a pair of men, who immediately flew across the clearing under the force of hurricane winds. She smiled brightly at her success before turning to the other witches. “Let’s all remain civil, shall we?”
A woman reached for her discarded robe, where a dagger was visible, and Freya quickly sent her flying backward into a tree, where she slammed into it with a loud crack, rolling unconscious to the ground.
The other witches held up their hands in surrender as I stepped around Freya, staring down Erik.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
Erik tilted his head, watching me. “To whom are you referring?”
“You know who we mean,” Therese said, scowling at my side. “Where’s Auggie?”
“Auggie!” the man barked a laugh. “You mean one of the sacrifices?”
“Erik, is …” I stalked to the man and ripped his mask off. It wasn’t Erik, but some witch I’d never laid eyes on before, in his early fifties. “Where is Erik?”
The man chuckled, shaking his head. “With the one you seek, apparently.”
“He’s stalling,” Narcissa said. She let a tongue of flame escape her lips and unfurled her wings to look more threatening. “Let me boil his blood a little so he talks.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” the man said, holding a hand up. “The sacrifices are taking place through there,” he said, indicating the portal. “The magic siphoned from the villages will power the enchantment on these ground for … centuries. It will ensure we remain powerful. Once he takes his rightful place as the Blood King, I’m sure Erik would be willing to share his power with a few more witches, if you’d like to join our coven.”
Freya’s lips curled. “Covens are expressly forbidden by the Council of Witches. For this exact reason. You’re overreaching and shifting the balance of power.”
“The Council of Witches has no authority here,” the man snorted, and Freya paled at his words, as they were true. “They hoard power for themselves while the rest of us get the scraps. Witches like Erik with a vision, a true vision, come along once in a lifetime. We don’t have to sit idly by while the old ones like Ambrosia expand their lands, keeping us from any true power. We can be a part of something bigger without them.”
“I’m growing weary of this talk,” I said. “Where does the portal lead? Where is Erik?”
The man smiled. “Across the vast ocean. Erik is a clever man. Here, our coven could prepare the sacrifice and siphon power through the portal without interference from the Witch’s Council. And there, he can take the power of the sacrifice’s life as well as an entire town without drawing the ire of our new neighbors.”
The witching hour…. It was still five and a half hours away. “Freya,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “What is the time difference between New York and London?”
“Five hours,” Freya said, lips drawn.
