To my surprise, it was Tarben who was at my side first. He scanned me from head to toe, searching for any signs of injury. Once he was satisfied that I was unharmed, he pulled me into the warmth of his body. I clung to him tightly and inhaled him.
“Are you alright?” He looked down at me, his eyes wide with worry. Aside from a cut on his left cheek, he was mercifully uninjured.
“She’s gone,” my voice cracked.
Overhead, the storm abruptly ceased. The rain stopped falling and the baleful clouds faded, unveiling the radiant moon and its glimmering star companions.
Looking over Tarben’s shoulder, I met my grandmother’s eyes as she marched towards me.
“What did you do?” she demanded, paying no mind to the mortal who had positioned himself a breath away from her granddaughter.
Once again, I dragged a hand through my wet and matted hair. I would hate to know what I looked like right now. Coated in blood, sweat and dirt, I didn’t think I would ever feel clean again. “She asked me to disable the wards, so I did… Everywhere except inside the cottage,” I said. Perhaps I should be riddled with guilt over the fact that I’d killed someone. But, just like with the maglocuni in the woods, I felt no remorse for my actions. The Crow was evil—she’d murdered my father, and, at the very least, orchestrated the murders of others. If I hadn’t vanquished her, she would never have let me go.
No, I didn’t feel so much as a pinch of regret. Instead, I felt a lightness in my body that I could only describe as relief. Relief that my grandmother and friends were safe and whole.
Understanding flickered in my grandmother’s eyes the moment before she flung her arms around me and squeezed tightly.“You are far too clever for your own good.” She beamed.
I blinked, completely taken aback by the praise and the unexpected display of affection. Somewhat hesitantly, I returned her hug.
Once we pulled apart, she studied me as if she’d never seen me before.
Amalie was the next to embrace me. Her forehead scrunched up as she said, “Could someone please explain what happened?”
“Alara left the wards up inside the cottage, knowing that if the witch went in there, she would perish,” said Hugo, who was limping toward me with Filip at his side, assisting him with each step.
My eyes widened at the bleeding gash in his calf from the monster’s bite. “Your leg!”
“It was only a nip, I’ll live.” His attempt at a smirk ended up as more of a grimace.
“You had better,” said Filip, giving me a quick squeeze. “First the coma, now this. I’m beginning to think you look for trouble just to keep me on my toes.”
“So dramatic,” Hugo said with an eye roll.
“Mira, send for the healer at once,” my grandmother commanded one of her most trusted warriors. “Tell him to come immediately.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said.
“Really, that’s not necessary—” Hugo started, but, at the look she gave him, he promptly shut his mouth.
I scanned my surroundings once more. All around us, the mood was quietly victorious. A few pale-faced Vanorans remained on the ground, recovering from their vivid nightmares. Some used their water to cleanse themselves of the blood that colored their faces and bodies. Others tended to the wounded. Few had bite marks and stab wounds, and two—my stomach churned—had chunks of flesh singed from parts of their faces allthe way to the bone. They would heal, but they were undoubtedly in agony.
Despite all the pain and suffering, many of the warriors were smiling. A few even laughed quietly with each other. There was a sense of comradery as they clapped each other on the back and embraced. “A bit rusty, are we?” I overheard one Vanoran teasing another. I was glad they could find light after the darkness the Crow and her companions had brought.
“What happened to the witches?” I asked.
“Gone. As soon as they saw that first witch go up in flames, they fled,” said Tarben, rubbing the stubble along his jawline.
“You saw that? Why would they flee?” It seemed odd that they would all retreat just because the Crow had been killed.
“Yes—we could see everything through the windows. As for why they left,” he shrugged, “maybe they were worried they might meet the same fate? Does it matter?”
“Maybe,” I said, unconvinced. I still thought it was bizarre, but as long as they didn’t return with a vengeance, I supposed it didn’t matter.
I turned to my grandmother. “How did we fare?”
“One casualty,” she said. Her voice was emotionless, but I caught a flicker of sadness in her eyes. She inclined her chin towards a figure lying still on the ground.
Guilt settled like a stone in my belly. In my mind, I said a silent prayer for the lost warrior.Vell guide you passage to Yvora.
