Everywhere I looked, midlife witches descended upon the property, swooping, veering, and circling the perimeter.
The haunting calls of wolves, orcs, and goblins echoed into the air as determination tingled in my fingertips, and I gripped the broomstick and searched for my daughter.
The compound looked even worse from above.
The walls stretched farther than I remembered, black stone twisting along the hillsides in uneven angles that made my eyes ache if I stared too long. Dead vines crawled over portions of the outer structure. They looked thick as ropes and pulsed faintly beneath the moonlight as if dark magic moved through them like blood through veins. The thought of one of them getting a hold of me worried me beyond belief.
The gates below shuddered again, and another screech split the air.
Only this time, the sound changed halfway through, warping into something almost human before fading into a hiss across the courtyard stones.
“Absolutely not,” Twobble announced. “I reject whatever that was. I’m usually a very accepting goblin, but that’s a hard no for me.”
My broom dipped sharply to avoid one of the stone spires lining the outer wall, and Twobble whooped loud enough that three witches nearby glanced over.
“Sorry,” he called. “Near death makes me giddy.”
Below us, wolves burst from the tree line in flashes of gray, tan, and black fur, weaving through the lower grounds with startling speed. I spotted Caleb near the front ridge in his shifted form, enormous beneath the moonlight as he tore across the hills with several wolves flanking him.
The orcs moved more slowly but somehow felt even more intimidating because of it. They advanced in heavy lines along the western pass carrying lanterns, axes, and curved blades that glinted whenever moonlight caught their edges.
And threading through all of it like chaos wrapped in enthusiasm were the goblins.
One zipped beneath me, hanging sideways from a broomstick.
Another tossed glowing green powder across part of the courtyard wall, then cackled wildly as shadow creatures erupted from hiding spots beneath the stone.
Twobble pointed downward proudly. “That’s Cousin Merrick. He bites ankles and destabilizes morale. But he’s not my twin.”
“He’s a helpful goblin.”
Twobble squeezed harder. “He’s a specialist.”
The courtyard erupted into motion beneath us as dark shapes crawled from cracks in the stone walls and beneath the dead vines, unfolding into creatures with too many limbs and glowing white eyes. A shudder ran through me, and Twobble grunted.
“Don’t do that. Do not get scared.” His voice went up an octave. “You’re setting the example for the rest of us.”
One launched toward a witch near the north tower only for Lady Limora to sweep past on her broomstick and blast the thing backward with a burst of silver-blue magic that lit the sky like lightning.
Vivian followed directly behind her with frightening calm and drove a spell straight through another creature climbing the walls.
The shadow exploded into smoke.
“Honestly,” Stella called while steering her broom through the chaos with entirely too much elegance, “do they think this is our first rodeo?”
I hid a smile as a creature lunged toward her from one of the towers.
Without even looking fully concerned, Stella smacked it in the face with the end of her broomstick.
The thing vanished off the side of the wall with a shriek.
Skonk clung to her shoulders. “I just saw my entire life flash before my eyes.”
“You’ll survive.” She smiled.
“I’m unconvinced.”
My broom carried me lower toward the eastern side of the compound while the witches above split into smaller circles. Protection lanterns lit the sky in floating bundles, casting gold across the hillsides. Concealment charms drifted near the cliffs like fog.
