“Okay,” I replied, my voice quivering, watching as she left the room with Vesper trailing after her.
This nightmare was closer to being over every second since I’d been rolled out in the laundry cart, and I couldn’t believe my luck in having a witch help me through this.
Witches were often written off by other Magiks as weak since our power was reliant on spells and potions, charms and tonics. But if anything, it made our strength much more varied, ourvalue lying in our versatility. We could solve almost any problem with the right words, ingredients, and intentions.
While I waited for Morgana to return, I went back to my computer, happy to see that Arlen had already responded.
Hey Bri,
A friend of Morgana’s is a friend of mine, especially if she’s paying. Just send over what you got. I’ll take a look.
-Arlen
I wrote back right away, giving him a link to the download. For an experienced coder, it probably wouldn’t take very long to fix, but I was under no assumption my request would be high on his to-do list. Even if I was itching to finally launch the thing, I needed to be patient.
I’d been patient for five years, after all, so a few more days was nothing.
Ember, fed up with the computer taking my attention, jumped on my lap and sat on top of my right arm, leaving me to scroll and type left-handed.
I was halfway done with a gossip article about the new season ofArcane Housewhen Morgana came back into the room, an adamantine dagger in her hand.
The blade had to be at least eight inches long, reflecting the light of the lamp in a bright slash of silver. The hilt, decorated in swirls and evil eyes, looked perfectly formed to fit Morgana’s grip.
“A Blade of Severance,” she explained, handing me the rare artifact. The dagger changed shape to fit my grip as I took a hold of it, the weight perfectly balanced in my hands.
“I’ve only read about these,” I whispered in awe, almost afraid I wasn’t worthy to hold one. Forged in the holy cauldronof Hecara herself, these daggers were spelled to be able to cut through anything, including…
Bonds.
“How do I use it?” I asked.
“The instructions and spell are here,” she explained, handing me a piece of paper. “From midnight to the witching hour, channel all of your thoughts, feelings, and wishes to ending the bond. Then…”
* * *
At a quarter to twelve, Morgana and Vesper went to bed, leaving me to the task alone. This was something I needed to do by myself, although at my age, it should have been completed with my familiar.
My parents, both being witches, had their own familiars who were like uncles to me. Cosmo, an iguana, was my dad’s, while my mom had a cheeky spider monkey named Rio.
I missed them all so much, and hated that Victor had robbed me of the chance to bond with my own familiar. At thirty years old, I was now four years too late.
A lone tear fell down my cheek, my chest feeling hollow, and I scooped up Ember, glad he could fill the empty space in my heart where a familiar should go.
When the clock struck midnight, I began the ritual.
I’d already drawn the pentagram in the middle of the kitchen, and I sat down inside it, chanting in Old Lundarian.
“Zhaketh, sen Val-Ash. Tuul infuk ziir. Kaan.”
Begone, mark of Alpha. The sworn bond is broken. It is finished.
I lit the white candle facing north.
“Zhaketh, sen Val-Ash. Tuul infuk ziir. Kaan.”
The blue candle in the south was next, and I repeated the phrase, following the rest of the call to the directions as I lit the red candle in the east and the green candle in the west.
I settled myself, legs crossed, and breathed in deeply as I channeled all my thoughts towards ending my connection to Victor. I imagined cutting a cord with giant scissors, snapping a chain with bolt cutters, and so on. With each split, I visualized Victor floating further away from me.
