Something twisted inside of Hazel, wrenching her heart. Witch.
“She wanted to make sure you were safe and raised outside of the influence of magic. She thought she could pass as a normal woman. But we learned the King had sent his Bloodseekers to seek out magic-wielders in hiding and knew the risk was too high. He keeps fewer of them in his service now, but the Bloodseekers use magic of their own to sense wards and veils. It’s a type of dark magic, truly evil stuff. Anyway, she couldn’t stay. You would be safe because you were so small. No one knew if you were gifted, but even if you were, it would have been too little to sense. So, she was going to leave you with us.”
Hazel’s feet bounced nervously under the table. Control. She needed to control herself.
“She waited until they arrived to draw as much attention to herself as possible. We all watched in quiet horror as she mounted her horse and tore off toward the tree line, drawing them away from town and allowing the stragglers, ill, and elderly to escape to safety… and protecting you.”
She couldn’t. This was too much. But she steeled herself, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood.
“But what about the baby she had? Pa said… he said she died giving birth to my little sister. That neither of them made it. If what you’re saying is true…”
Agnes watched Hazel quietly as she processed the information. Then she reached for her hands, cupping them in her own. “Connall Callahan was married to a woman named Briar,” she said softly, “and she did die in childbirth. With a daughter he named Rose. But Briar was not your mother. And Connall…” Agnes trailed off.
Hazel could still feel Agnes’s eyes trained on her, though. She looked up and found an expression full of fear and awe awaiting her. Her locket was so hot, she thought it might burn through her shirt… and was thatlightreflecting in her eyes?Oh, gods, no.
She looked down at her hands. She was glowing again. Except this time, she had nowhere to channel the sudden rush of power surging up from its source. It was begging for release. Her skin wanted to split from the building pressure and her head throbbed. She mouthed “help me” to Agnes, who, realizing how immediately dire this situation had turned, was already out of her chair and frantically searching for something in her wares.
The cottage erupted in blinding light as a powerful force tore free from Hazel. Agnes was knocked back against her shelves in the blast. Trinkets and talismans were scattered, the table overturned, and the crystal sphere was on the ground, split in two.
Agnes righted herself, visibly unharmed except for the slow trickle of purple blood coming from her nose. Hazel was on her hands and knees, completely drained and unable to stand.
There was a commotion outside, men shouting, and Agnes—suddenly very spry—flew into action. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and righted the table on her own. Then she grabbed Hazel’s wrists and pulled her into the chair.
Something was wrong. Someone else was there.
“Hazel,” she breathed, snapping her fingers. “Hazel, look at me. Come on. Come back to me. We don’t have time. You broke the wards. We aren’t safe.”
She remembered what she’d been looking for then and dropped to the floor, searching. She found the small vial, and with renewed vigor, forced it into Hazel’s mouth, draining the contents down her throat.
Hazel came to just as three fully armored guards busted down the cottage door and rushed in. Hazel recognized immediately they were not regular knights. These three were members of the Raven Blade.Shit.
Both women were instantly on their feet as the men surrounded them. Thankfully, Hazel no longer glowed with aetherial light, and there was essentially no proof they’d done anything wrong—if the guards ignored the trashed interior.
Agnes spoke first. “Can we help you, sirs?”
The first guard spat. “A bright light just exploded from within this cottage. Care to explain?”
“Oh, you saw that? Well, it’s quite embarrassing! You see, this young woman came in seeking a fertility tea, but, well… I must admit in my clumsiness I knocked over a couple of mineral powders that aren’t meant to be mixed. Now you see why, it seems.” Agnes did her best to look bashful and ashamed. Her face was convincing. The story? Not so much.
The knight curled his lip in disgust. He grabbed the discarded vial from the table, smelling it. Hazel could see between the fear in her eyes and the way her already pale skin blanched, Agnes was worried about the vial. Before she could say anything, Agnes reached out to snatch it back.
But the knight was faster. He whirled on Agnes, sending her flying across the room with a backhanded slap—his hand encased in an iron-plated gauntlet.
Agnes slumped to the floor, bleeding from her eyebrow to her cheekbone, eyes beginning to blacken.
Hazel erupted with fury.“No! No, please!” she shouted at them. “She’s a harmless woman, can’t you brutes see that?”
They ignored her.
She shrieked, hurling herself at the knight. Surprising both herself and him, she landed a blow before he could react. But it only angered him.
The knight grabbed her by the neck and lifted her into the air as she clawed at the iron, to no avail. She tried to reach down into whatever emotional recess housed her powers, but once again, they were empty. Or perhaps the bitter liquid Agnes had forcibly dumped down her throat had something to do with it. Probably for the best in that case.
The other two knights approached, each grabbing one of her flailing, clawing arms. She was lowered to her feet. Then the first knight backhanded her the same way he had Agnes, and she was thrown to the ground, screaming in pain.
Please, please don’t let me die like this.
As she rolled and writhed, a figure stepped over her, placing a steel-plated sabaton heavily on her chest.He’s going to crush me.
