“I can’t,” I growled in frustration. “I think Bahmet sensed what I was trying to do and is toying with me, leading us intoa false sense of security.” I searched the surrounding views, wondering if the demon lord was watching us. “I’m lost.”
A warm hand found mine, fingers tangling as one. I gasped at the touch as it grounded me out of my anxieties. “You’re never lost as long as you keep searching,” Arwyn said as if the concept was simple. His brows furrowed in focus as he took in his surroundings, tired eyes squinting for a way out of this mess. “I think you’re right though, Hector. Bahmet is playing with us. Call it a hunch, but each of these paths are clearly marked by a direction. North for air, east for earth…”
“Which is a waste of information if we don’t know which direction is going to help Kai!” Romy said, words rushing out of her.
Time wasn’t exactly running out, considering Kai was already dead. But the more we wasted, the more his body would reach a state that no soul would want to return to.
Arwyn shot me a look, a knowing glint in his eyes. “What else is represented by the directions of a compass, Hector?”
Winds rustled around us, conjured from nothingness. It hissed and whistled, bringing a chill to my bones. “Elements,” I answered. “They represent the elements. North for me, an air-witch. South for fire, which is Romy.”
“Exactly.” Arwyn spun to face the direction of west, which represented water. “Kai is a water-witch, right?”
“Yes.” It was all I could say.
“Then we go west.” Arwyn was about to take a step off the crossroad when Romy snapped out and stopped him.
“We have no earth-witch in this group, Arwyn. Theory debunked. If each path is meant to represent each of us, you’re not on it.”
Romy had a point, and it was valid. But I knew the answer without needing to think much about it.
“I fill that spot,” Arwyn said.
Romy’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. Spirit-witch. Arwyn can take the place in a coven of any element he desires. That is what makes them so rare. They are like a nexus point, a place where threads are brought together and strengthened. In this group he takes the place of earth.”
“Which furthers my belief we should go west,” Arwyn continued. “Because that is Kai’s path.”
Urged by the passing of time, I was the first to move. “It’s our only choice then.”
“Technically it’s one of four choices,” Arwyn said, “but I think it is therightchoice. Bahmet is trying to confuse us, but there is only so much resistance he can put up considering you are also powerful here, Hector.”
Those last words gave me the confidence I needed to step ahead, thanking my lucky stars when my boot touched down on the path leading west and my foot didn’t blow up. Nothing happened. So, I took another step, and another, until I left the crossroads behind.
My coven followed, trusting in me and my guidance. When I looked back to check on them, I saw that they followed me. And the crossroads were nowhere to be seen.
** *
We walked for a long time,my hope dwindling with each mile that passed. Actually, that was a lie. It hadn’t dwindled; it was completely extinguished like the butt of a wickless candle.
Romy had stopped crying a while ago, but her silence was more painful. Every time I looked back at her she forged on, taking up the back of the group, her eyes fixed on the corpse laid out across Arwyn’s hands.
I wanted to demand we all stopped for a break, especially when I saw the wince across Arwyn’s face. He was struggling—we all were—but no one dared complain. The focus set on Arwyn’s expression was enough to keep me going, as was the belief that he had in me.
Just when my legs were about to give up, thirst burning my throat and hunger cramping my stomach, my eyes caught something just off in the distance. Born from the mist that danced from the ground, obscuring the path and everything ahead of it, came a looming dark shape.
“Holy fuck,” I spat, my pace picking up. “Do you see that?”
Romy’s footsteps quickened into a light jog until she was beside me. “We foundit.”
Her reply was enough answer to my question. As was the widening of her now hopeful eyes as she took in the building before us.
The closer we gained, the more the shape was visible through the thick shroud. Narrowing my gaze, I took it all in, making sense of what I saw.
The building was constructed of dark aged wood that bowed at the walls, as if the weight of the pitched roof was far too heavy to bear. Windows glowed with the welcoming warmth of firelight, visible through the gaps in the shutters adorned to the walls. It was an old place, the type of building you found down the side streets of London, labelled with a plaque that showed off its grand age.
A sharp creaking sound split the still air. A back-and-forth whir of metal against metal, in desperate need of oiling. I took a deep inhale, catching the sharp bite of alcohol in the back of my throat, as if the building oozed the substance. A sign flapped in the winds, back and forth, squeaking as it went.
The path had led us to a pub. Not just any pub, a veryoldpub that belonged somewhere in the eighteen hundreds. Flaking andfaded paint portrayed an image of a three-faced woman, their eyes bled out from years of weather.
