‘She did,’ my grandmother agreed. ‘I saw. As you can imagine, I was not thrilled.’
‘I should be dead,’ I reasoned, running a finger up and down my intact skin. ‘You’re sure I’m not?’
With a razor-sharp sigh, she stood and strode towards me, her silk skirt swishing around her long legs. ‘Honey, when good things happen to us, it is considered rude to ask why. Do not, as they say, look a gift horse in the mouth.’
‘Is this part of my magic?’ I asked. ‘Am I immune to wolf bites? Because if I am—’
‘If you are, that would make me quite the fool, wouldn’t it?’ Catherine finished for me. ‘But it wouldn’t change anything, Emily. I would sacrifice my life for yours one hundred times over, whether I knew it was necessary or not.’
My eyebrows flashed up my forehead and my grandmother replied with a sly smile.
‘As I believe I mentioned, this is a good spot to do some thinking and I’ve had nothing but time on my hands.’
‘If I’m not dead and you’re not dead, then we can leave,’ I said, cautiously walking down the aisle and pressing against the solid rock that sealed us in. ‘We can go back?’
‘You may leave whenever you’re ready.’ Catherine waved a hand, no big deal. ‘I’m going to wait around a while longer. A lady doesn’t step out without an invitation.’
‘I’m inviting you,’ I said uncertainly. ‘I’m asking you to come back with me.’
‘You’re doing wonderful things out there.’ She was suddenly beside me, leading me up the stairs that had appeared out ofnowhere. A cool night breeze blew in from the open doors of the chapel, and above us I could see the full moon glowing.
‘Growing into your magic exactly how I knew you would. My little witch is going to save the world.’
‘But what about her?’ I asked.
Behind us, in the darkest corner of the chapel, I saw the figure from my nightmares. Tall and emaciated, long stringy hair covering her face. My face.
‘Onginnan,’she gasped as I cowered behind Catherine, her voice as dry as ashes.‘Onginnan.’
‘Don’t you worry about her,’ Catherine whispered in her most soothing tone, turning my face away as the wraith-like version of myself melted back into the shadows. ‘She’s not your concern today.’
But she would be. One day.
‘And the man? The man with the dagger that looks like a tree?’
Her lips rolled together, the perfect red lipsticked line disappearing in on itself.
‘Another problem for another time. Now go make nice with those mutts before they kill your boy. Make me proud, Emily.’
And with one short, sharp shove, she pushed me through the door and back into the night.
Chapter Forty-Five
The rain had stopped and the night had taken hold of the city, the full moon, a blue moon, hanging low over the river. It was a shame everyone in town was so committed to staying in all evening, I’d never seen such a beautiful sight.
‘You’re alive.’
Standing over me, Pamela Evans looked as though she might faint.
‘But you were bitten,’ she said as I rose slowly to my feet. ‘You lost so much blood.’
‘One thing I’ve noticed lately, there’s always more blood than you think there’s going to be,’ I replied, testing my arms and legs. Nothing broken, nothing too bruised, the teeth marks on my arm completely healed with just a torn sleeve and bloody mess left behind to show a wound had ever existed. I looked up and offered her a terse smile. ‘Shall we get on with the trial?’
‘How are you alive?’ she asked again, her thick accent dancing up and down the words. ‘How can this be?’
‘We did have to let your hostages go to avoid them being savagely murdered by Weres who couldn’t be held responsiblefor their own actions,’ I told her as the oaks unwound their branches and returned to their regular sentry positions.
As soon as she was able to push through a gap barely big enough for her body, Lydia raced over to my side, weather-beaten but stronger than ever. Jackson hung back, holding his mother upright as he brushed away the last of Astrid’s cloaking spell from her skin.
