“Whispers of the Witch in that region,” Fell continued. “My legion was sent to find the truth. Instead, the truth found us.”
Nes sipped her coffee. “How so?”
Toran slid his cup closer and lifted it to his lips. The coffee inside was too hot, near scalding, and he set it back down without taking a sip.
“She was waiting for us,” Fell said.
Someone had been waiting for Toran, too. Not the Witch. Toran would have expected the Witch, but he hadn’t expectedher.
He’d staked the foreign palace out for weeks, learned the rotations of every guard unit and the schedules of every servant so his legion could slip inside without notice. But all his preparations had turned useless. Because he hadn’t accounted for the people who didn’t operate on regular schedules. People like the Aeosch royal family. People like the princess and her band of assassins.
Fell let out a long breath. “Hiding in plain sight among a kind group of nomads. When they tried to ask for our help, the Witch attacked. She killed three of the nomads and one of my men in one shot.”
One shot.
That was all it had taken for two of Toran’s soldiers to fall. A single slice through the ropes holding them to life. Kai. His face open and afraid as he tumbled through the air. His eyes closing just before his head smashed on marble. Safie. Her glare, still fierce and strong, as she realized gravity was not something she could conquer. That look of defiance carrying her through, even into death. And the green-eyed, hooded archer beside their broken bodies, readying another arrow to bring him and his other two friends down.
One shot. Two dead.
He threw himself from the memory, slamming his knees on the underside of the table and spilling all their drinks.
“Shit,” he hissed, and clambered for more napkins. “Sorry.”
He glanced at Nes, who gave him a peculiar look. So peculiar he could have sworn it was worry creasing her face.
He couldn’t explain how every time someone mentioned Aeos he was right back there, at the heart of his failures. How the memories of their deaths were on loop in his head.
He cleared his throat and took a sip of his remaining coffee, now lukewarm. He nodded to Fell. “You were saying?”
Fell narrowed his eyes at Toran, folding his hands atop the table. “I was saying, the Witch attacked us and the nomads. She killed every last one of them. We never stood a chance.”
Toran glanced down at the registry coin between them. “And your legion?”
Fell’s gaze never left his as he said, “We tried to defend the nomads, but once we took out our swords and bows, she turned on us. My men were dead before we could strike.”
“You shot at her?” Nes leaned closer.
Fell shook his head. “I tried, but by the time I managed to nock an arrow and aim, it was already too late.”
He watched as Fell lifted a shaky hand to his forehead as if shading his eyes against the strength of the memory. He knew the feeling well.
“So, all this time, you could identify the Witch.” Nes’s tone was clipped as he watched her fingers tighten around her cup. “And yet you continue to drown the innocent.”
Fell looked out from beneath his hand, wrath in his cold eyes.
Before Fell could speak, Toran held a placating hand out. “What she means to say is, it would be incredibly helpful if you could describe the Witch for us. So we have a better idea who we’re looking for.”
Fell’s hand dropped. “The Witch is tricky. She is capable of fooling anyone, even myself. It would be pointless to describe her appearance.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because who’s to say she can’t change it with all the magic inside her? Who’s to say she can’t mess with your mind? Nothing is beyond the Witch.”
Nes frowned. “The Witch isn’t Xell.”
Toran didn’t know what to believe. On the one hand, Nes was right. There were no stories about the Witch being able to change shape. History told them such power belonged only to the Xell—that theGoddess had given them the ability to take whatever living form they pleased.
But on the other hand, history was often hearsay at best, rumors at worst. With the holy book gone, no one alive could recall the early stories of the Goddess’s feats. And with all that magic, there was no telling what the Witch could do.
