Page 60 of Board Games and Broomsticks

Nyssa’s words were cut off as the vines tightened once more. ‘I’m not falling for your tricks again, little witch. The Morven you knew was weak, and if the power I seek kills what is left of him, then I shall be glad of it.’

Nyssa’s vision was starting to turn black, and whatever magic she had left kept slipping from her grasp like the fog surrounding them. Nyx and her twisted Familiars version had fallen silent, and Nyssa could only pray that whatever injuries were preventing her familiar from coming to her aid weren’t fatal. ‘Please, Morven, you don’t … have to … do this.’

‘You’re right, I don’t have to. But I want to. You had the chance to join me, and you chose to betray me instead. And so now, if you fail to bring me your grimoire, you shall die at my hands knowing that it is because of your weakness that your friends and every last mage loyal to the covens shall lose their lives.’

Tears pricked the corner of Nyssa’s eyes. ‘Morven, please. I was your friend—’ Her voice broke, the words lingering between them.

For a second – just a second – Morven’s expression softened into that of the boy she’d known. ‘You were. Which is why I shall grant you one small mercy. You have one day. If you do not meet me here, with the grimoire, by this time tomorrow, Nighthaven shall fall.’

The fog coiled around Morven, warping his features into something unrecognizable before devouring him completely.

The magic holding Nyssa disappeared alongside it, sending her crashing to her knees. A choked sob caught in her throat as she looked at each of her friends’ injured forms. At Nyx’s heaving chest and the fresh cut across her cheek.

And in that moment, Nyssa’s choice was made.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

‘You can’t give him the grimoire.’

Liora, sat in Lisabeth’s armchair near the fireplace of Hawthorne Cottage, her arm freshly bandaged, looked positively offended by Nyssa’s admission. She’d been the first to wake in the forest, her eyes burning with righteous fury as she’d searched for Morven.

‘I have to.’ Nyssa’s voice sounded as numb as she felt. Even with the fire beside her, she was cold to the core. Her body hadn’t stopped trembling since they’d all trudged back to the cottage and Elowen had tended to their wounds. ‘If I don’t, he’ll destroy Nighthaven.’

‘He’ll try.’ Alaric placed his mug of tea down on the table a little too forcefully. There was a nasty bruise forming at his temple, and this was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the forest. ‘Nighthaven is a town filled with magical creatures – witches, warlocks, druids, elves – they’re all more than capable of fighting for their town, and most importantly, they’d want to. You have to give them that choice, Nys.’

‘Besides, think of how much more damage he’ll be able to inflict if he does get your grimoire. Do you really trust him not to destroy Nighthaven after you unlock it for him?’ asked Elowen. Her injuries weren’t visible, but Nyssa had seen the way she’d limped the entire way back to the cottage. Seen the pain in her eyes as she’d patched them all up.

‘Morven is many things, but he’s a man of his word. Honour is important to him, it’s how I was able to trick him so easily last time.’ Even now, she felt guilty saying it. She’d vowed not to give up on him as easily this time, hadn’t she? And he had granted her twenty-four hours. Whether it was truly because of the friendship they once shared, or to allow him to recover from his time spent in Familiars, she didn’t know.

‘Could you use it to trick him again?’ Liora asked. ‘Tell him to meet you somewhere where you’ll give him the grimoire, but set a trap instead? We still have the orb and the birdcage.’

Nyssa shook her head. ‘He’ll be expecting that. The ritual we came up with is the only thing powerful enough to hold him for good, and we’ve lost the full moon; anything else we try, if it even succeeds, will only trap him temporarily and just make him even angrier when he inevitably gets free.’

‘What about the covens?’ Alaric asked. ‘The Briar Council worked to stop Morven last time; wouldn’t they help if you sought their aid again?’

‘They might help, but the covens’ priority will always be protecting themselves and doing whatever it takes to trap or kill Morven. They won’t care if Nighthaven and its people are destroyed in the process.’

‘Of course they bloody wouldn’t,’ Liora grumbled, Nyssa’s words clearly confirming her suspicions that the covens were purely self-serving.

‘That’s not fair, Li,’ Nyssa chided, though she could understand the bard’s reasoning. ‘It isn’t that the covens are cruel. Only that their priority always has been, and always will be, to themselves and maintaining magical balance. What Morven’s doing with the tomes and what he’s planning to do with the Hawthorne grimoire is a clear perversion of that balance.’ Nyssa sighed, the weight of Morven’s intentions settling over her with a newfound heaviness. ‘Spells are gifts, power granted by nature and the ancestors; to steal them permanently for oneself is … abhorrent. Not to mention that in the rare cases a mage has attempted it, said mage ended up losing their mind and their life.’

Nyssa supposed that she could hand over the grimoire and hope that the influx of power killed Morven instantly, but with the luck she’d been having lately, he’d survive long enough to cause irreparable damage to the magical world. No, she needed a permanent solution.

‘I vote we try to trap him again,’ Alaric said. ‘It’ll at least buy us some time to come up with something even he can’t weasel his way out of. Is there anything else you found in Lisabeth’s spellbooks that might work?’

Nyssa let out a frustrated sigh. ‘No. The strongest binding spell in there was the one I adapted to trap him in Familiars, and we already know he can break that.’

There was a long, heavy silence, and then Liora, her voice quiet, said, ‘We could kill him.’

All eyes turned to the bard, who shrugged a slender shoulder. ‘I know it would be difficult, but … we could try. At least that way we’d go down fighting.’

Nyssa shook her head. ‘We can’t, Li. He’s too powerful. More powerful than any being I’ve ever come across. I don’t think there’s anything on this earth that could …’ Nyssa paused as the early-morning light glinted off the lake beyond the living-room window.

Remember, kin of Lisabeth: what lays beneath the surface may be the solution you seek.

They had been the selkie’s final words to her. Nyssa hadn’t understood at first – had thought perhaps she was referring to the inner version of herself she’d met during her third trial – but now …

‘Nyssa?’ Elowen’s face appeared in her line of vision, a worried divot between her brows. Nyssa’s heart was racing, her palms sweaty. There was magic tingling in her fingertips. The subtle scent of her grandmother’s power in the air.