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Every single Mage here accepted my authority over them.

The thought made me feel queasy. And a strange part of me was unsettled that the ceremony concluded without any interruptions or nefarious schemes. An assault from an enemy, I could handle.

But this—becoming king? I was woefully out of my depth.

“Long live King Alaric!” shouted one of the chiefs from behind me. Chief Gorem, perhaps? I glanced over my shoulder to find him watching me with a small smile on his face.

The Mages in the crowd echoed the words, repeating them over and over. Thunder roared in my ears, drowning out their shouts as my mouth went bone dry.

King Alaric.

Ruler of the Mages of Kenibore.

Twenty-Seven

THE WITCH

Iroamed the woods for hours, unable to find the village of Tollino. But the good news was, I didn’t encounter the witch encampment, either.

The thought was less than comforting as I spent the night shivering in my cloak, too afraid to build a fire for fear it would draw the witches right to me. My body was fatigued, every limb worn and weary from casting the camouflage spell nonstop, along with my protective wards. I was able to grab snatches of sleep here and there, but I kept jolting awake from the slightest sound—an owl hooting, an insect chirping, a frog croaking.

An hour or so before dawn, I forced myself to move, knowing the effects of withdrawal would hit me shortly after sunrise. I sifted through the ingredients in my pack, frowning as I pulled out each item that was used to make my tonic. Gran—Elvira—had given me logical explanations for why each herb was included. But now that I knew the horrifying truth about her, I was beginning to question everything.

Sapphire basil was a recent addition; she had only suggested I include it a day or so before she died.

But the white ash… it was often used as a numbing agent. When combined with witch magic, it had the power to completely paralyze someone. My tonic only had a small dose of it, but it still made me wonder why it was included at all.

What part of me had concerned Elvira so much that she had put a paralysis agent in my tonic?

And even with this ingredient included, I was still able to perform magic. Which begged the question… just how powerful was I?

What had Elvira been trying to suppress?

Sapphire basil and white ash. That was what Geraldine had given me. I had a few sweetroot leaves and sprigs of lavender in my pack, which would help dull the pain. I didn’t fancy a recurrence of the excruciating headache I’d endured in the bunker.

But I needed to prepare less this time. Hopefully, across the span of a week, I could slowly reduce the dosage until I was completely off it.

Then, perhaps I could discover what Elvira had been trying to hide.

The thought should have filled me with excitement. But all I felt was dread. My bones seemed to quiver with fear at the thought.

With shaking hands, I used nearby rocks to grind up the ingredients into a powder. I didn’t have a cauldron to brew, or yarrow root to use as a base, so the water from my canteen would have to do. I carefully sprinkled the powder into my waterskin and shook it thoroughly. Even without my magic, steam began to rise from the concoction.

I took a trembling breath before summoning my magic. Energy pulsed in my veins as my hands warmed. I waited for power to flow from my fingers, but it halted. I gritted my teeth, eyes shut tight as I tried to channel it again.

Nothing happened.

“Damn it,” I muttered, shifting my weight and sitting up straighter in the grass. From between the trees, the early rays of sunlight peered at me, warning me that I was running out of time. If I didn’t take the tonic soon, my explosive symptoms would take over.

I relaxed my face and took three long, slow breaths.

There’s no one here but me, I thought. I can do this.

I tried to clear my head, but the rage and despair from the past few days was a flood I couldn’t contain.

The lies.

The secrets.