The voice of the forest called to me.
They harm the children.
I stood on a branch as wide as my cottage, head tilted back to peer into a bright upper canopy. Children?
What children?
Thick moss lay under my feet in an emerald carpet, washed with shoots of electric green. Curlicue vines supported a rainbow of differently-colored flowers, the tiny buds small as pebbles. A thin vine grew, looped around my ankle. The tree spoke again.
They harm the children.
My heart leapt back to life. Letum Wood rarely spoke with a single, determined voice. Hundreds or thousands of trees frequently whispered in looped refrains, perfectly synced. Rarely did the forest individuate.
“Who?”
The ill-fated.
“Demigods?”
A low keen answered.
Unexpected magic surged into my feet, shoved me into pressure and darkness. A transportation spell. A blink later, I stood in a different part of the forest. Letum Wood moved me with magic again.
An equally high branch overlooking rolling plains ahead supported me. A dirt road cut through waist-high grasses, a hundred paces away, to form a boundary. This had to be the edge of Letum Wood near the Eastern Network. I visited here when I worked with Marten as the Ambassador’s Assistant years ago.
The sound of a pompous voice prompted a fast invisibility spell.
“Witches are terrible, terrible creatures!”
I grabbed a vine, swung to a different branch of the tree with a better vantage over the road. A line of children stood on a dirt track, squinting against the vivid sunlight. Hiccuping sobs broke from the youngest. The oldest glared in stony silence. Each child stood with their hands behind their back, probably tied that way.
“Mongrel demigods,” I muttered.
Four adult demigods, recognizable by their general larger-than-life presence, positioned themselves at altering angles around the children. A clear, tactical formation meant to keep the kids from scattering. Beyond them stood a schoolhouse. The door was flung open, creaking on loose hinges.
No teacher?
I slipped Viveet from her sheath, comforted by the warmth of her blade. The Volare slid free of its cylindrical carrying case on my back and hovered expectantly behind me. Eager magic flowed from both of them. I canvassed the scene one last time, stepped onto the Volare, and sank to the earth.
On the ground, I crouched behind a trunk, which proved to be unnecessary as the demigods weren’t paying attention anyway. Nor could they detect goddess magic. The Volare shrank to half its size while it hovered above the forest floor, understanding my intent and anticipating what I wanted.
As I crept out of Letum Wood, grasses parted ahead of me. Bushes crawled out of the way. I advanced in silence. The pretentious male voice from before became more sonorous as I approached.
“You are also terrible, terrible children.”
A spry demigod with flaxen hair on a too-large head waggled a finger. His skinny neck, thin arms, gave him a gaunt appearance. His shoulders shook as he spoke. Light hairs sprouted from a split in his shirt past his collarbone and led my gaze right to an amulet.
A gaudy oval, apricot in color, rimmed with cherry-colored edges and a yellow-sun center. Such an amulet belonged to Ignis, god of fire. After my time in Alaysia, Baxter had given me a painting on rough parchment-like paper with all the amulets for each god listed. Get familiar with them, he had said with resignation. They’ll be coming back.
This one appeared to be Arthraysecscentillium. But . . . that couldn’t be right. Ignis wouldn’t send his children here. He fought on the side of witches, not with his ill-reputed brothers Ventis and Tontes.
“Witches have no redeeming qualities. None at all. Fortunately, we are here to help you with that.”
A bloodied body lay on the ground. Female, with dark blood staining her nose and chin. The youngest children stood nearest her, a girl and a boy, probably no older than five. She’d attempted to protect them, no doubt. Both trembled. One cried quietly, lips puckered into a frown, nose running. Tears streaked the cheeks of the other.
Two of the older boys, around twelve, glared at the demigods with locked jaws. Good. Their indignation might help us later. Rage was a mighty power when used correctly.
From a distance of thirty paces back, I circled the group, studying the demigods. Two of the four gazed into the forest and down the road every ten to fifteen seconds. The third focused on the children as the wiry demigod spewed more drivel. Only one amulet was apparent.
“Bound to incantations,” he cried, a hand to his forehead. “How do you survive with so much to learn and memorize?”
The dramatics irritated me. Viveet smoldered with greater heat as I tightened my grip, teeth gritted. Demigods were naturally stronger than witches, with or without amulets. Them having only one amulet present would tilt the odds slightly more toward my favor, but still vastly out of balance.
They had rounded up thirteen children, tied their hands, and stood them in a line side to side . . . to what end? Demigods hadn’t been seen in Alkarra since the failed uprising over two months back. Certainly not since I returned from Alaysia, half dead, six weeks ago. Their elusive motivations I’d deal with later.
For now, I had four demigods to battle and thirteen children to save.
I’d faced worse.
Greater questions cluttered my mind. Was I ready to battle demigods? Had I recovered my full strength after god magic almost killed me?
Probably not.
Would that stop me?
Never.
A demigod with four braids and a slightly crooked nose bounced on her heels, head tilted from side to side in clear agitation. Her gaze darted from forest to children to road, then back again in a loop.
She muttered something in Alaysian.
The leader ignored her.
“You done yet?” the second demigod called. He frowned, bushy black eyebrows heavy over his narrowed eyes. “Let’s get out of here. Set it on fire and throw the brats inside, already.”
He spoke in Alkarran. To frighten the children, perhaps?
One little girl screamed. All at once, the sound calmed. Her mouth still hung open, though no noise was issued. They used god magic to silence her. Her eyes widened, big as saucers. With the demigods arguing, I slipped next to the oldest boy. He had strawberry blonde hair and bright green eyes, with freckles for days across the bridge of his nose.
“Say nothing,” I whispered. “I’m Bianca Monroe. I’m going to save you all.”
His neck tightened, then eased. To his credit, he didn’t try to face me. Reaching behind him, I untied and loosened the ropes around his wrist, then tucked the ends into his palms.
“When I tell you to, grab the girl to your left and run for the trees. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. The others will come. Once you’re inside the trees, the forest will hide you.” I put my hand on his trembling shoulder. “Listen for my command.”
A slight nod confirmed he understood.
I went to the next one.
Giant logs appeared on the ground outside the schoolroom. They crashed, sending a little tremor under my feet. A third appeared, slamming into the wall and through a window. Glass shattered in a glittering spray.
Two of the children winced.
Fury filled the face of the oldest girl when I gave her the same instructions.
“Destroy them,” she hissed.
Two of the demigods squabbled in Alaysian—clearly not the brightest demigods from the land of the gods—while the female conjured a torch. The third male gestured toward the schoolhouse, muttering something.
The next child confirmed understanding, which left three more to instruct. The three oldest would grab the three youngest, so seven of thirteen remained without plan. Invisibly, the Volare slid up to my side, touched my waiting fingertips at my back.
Boy twins, around ten years old, stood together. Blood stained the ropes around their raw wrists—they’d been trying to free themselves. The twins would be taken care of by my magical rug.
Five left.
“That’s it!” the lead demigod cried. He sliced his hands through the air. “I’m tired of arguing. Send the runts into the fire and make sure the teacher wakes up to see it happen. Someone has to report this to their leadership.”
The amulet brightened when fire blazed from inside the schoolhouse. Flames exploded out the windows, crawling to the sky.
Incantations swirled through my mind, ready to be loosed. Agitation followed, a sure sign my magic was ready to fly.
Please let this work, I pleaded.
The invisibility spell began in my mind—a quick, natural incantation I’d cast thousands of times, though never to almost thirteen fleeing children and a rug. As if the magic felt my desperation, it responded with prodigious power.
“Now!” I called.
My invisibility incantation dropped, revealing me in the middle of the circle. The children disappeared as I pressed the magic toward them. The Volare darted down, scooped up the still-visible twins, and dissipated into the invisibility magic.
Such a daunting shove of power nearly dropped me. I stumbled, catching myself with a hand on a fallen log, and shouted, “Run!”
While demigods gasped and reared back, Viveet illuminated. Shimmering flames leapt high, their heat pressing forward.
“More,” I whispered.
Blue heartfire billowed, dazzling high in a shocking blast. With a loud cry, I swung her in a wide circle and advanced. The aquamarine and sapphire flames danced along her blade, rippled the air above her like a mirage, and distorted the shocked demigods. They threw their hands in the air, stumbling back.
“My name is Bianca Monroe.” I whirled to the side to fend off a pathetic advance. The demigod faltered mid step, slinking away from Viveet’s daunting blaze. “Formerly known as the amulet-breaker. You may call me the Lady-witch of Letum Wood.”
The female demigod pressed a hand to her pocket in a subconscious gesture to protect what lay inside.
“Luppentonisa has already fallen to me,” I continued, as if I hadn’t noticed her hand move. “I’m a servant of Deasylva, goddess-touched witch, and friend of Ignis. I survived the Heart of Alaysia and the presence of your gods. These children are under my protection and, by extension, the protection of the goddess of the forest. Advance if you dare.”
The invisibility spell faltered. At the last second, I gripped it again. Magic drained out of me like an uncorked barrel. The edges of the spell fell apart as the children scattered, requiring the magic to cover more area. A shoe appeared here, a braid there.
With a growl, I pushed my magical energy farther. My knees shook. I forced myself to stay standing as one of the demigods advanced with a step. A snarl sent them back.
Whispers erupted in my head.
The children arrive.
We protect them.
We protect you.
“You lost your god magic!” the leader called. “I heard all about Ignis taking it back. You’re not an amulet anymore. You’re a witch!”
“A witch you’d be a fool to challenge. In losing god magic, I gained more power from my goddess. Will you risk it?”
My gaze drifted quickly to the side. Grasses still moved, halfway to the forest.
Ten seconds, I thought.
Ten more seconds would be enough for all the children to enter the forest. The spell would end at the same time without a second repetition. Hastily, I cast the incantation again. My brief distraction gave the female demigod an opportunity to hedge closer to my right side. Another approached on my left.
Shock and fear faded from their expressions. Disbelief followed. The female studied me through slitted eyes, then disappeared. Why they didn’t use god magic to tie me up, I couldn’t fathom. Such an obvious choice.
Or maybe they weren’t the usual suspects.
“What are you doing here?” I asked the leader.
“We came to claim Alkarra.”
“By killing thirteen children?”
“We’re sending a message!”
“That you’re too frightened to fight real witches?”
He sneered.
I sidestepped to the left when a demigod advanced closer to my right, but didn’t take my gaze off the leader when I called, “And claiming Alkarra has worked out so well for all your siblings?”
“Our father is a weak god. We disown him. He chose the wrong side of the war.”
“Disown him, but not his magic? You speak so ill of him while you skulk away with his amulet? Now, you act like you’re a hero. Do you even know how to do god magic? Or did you steal that amulet from someone else?”
Crimson bloomed through his cheeks. “We will have this place!” he shrieked. “The time of the witch has passed! Not even the former amulet-breaker can stop the gods who crave this land.”
“Watch me,” I muttered.
Footsteps approached from behind. Light and quick and a breath away. The female was about to descend at my back, but she’d put herself too far away and given me a chance to hear.
Arrogant buggers.
Viveet arced in a wide, smoldering circle as I spun, blade extended. My grip tightened, bracing for impact a second before Viveet’s pristinely sharp edge whacked into flesh.
The female screamed, visible now. She collapsed, arm pressed to her side, while I yanked Viveet free. Blood spurted from a slice between two ribs.
I grabbed her uninjured arm, twisted it back, and yanked her in front of me. Blood trickled down Viveet’s blade and sizzled on the hot, blue runes as I held it to her neck.
“Don’t. Move.”
She silenced.
Black dots swam in front of my vision with the effort. The pull from the invisibility magic had become too strong. I wobbled on my feet, vision hazy.
They are here.
The children rest.
She always comes back.
She is ours.
As planned, the spell released on its own, unwinding like a sigh. Relief instantly followed. Movement out of the corner of my eye brought me back to the moment. I swung, jerking the female in front of me at the exact right moment. Another demigod leapt. Too late, he crashed straight into her. Head slammed against head. Her neck snapped back, unconscious against my shoulder, while he rolled to the ground.
The third demigod hesitated as I dropped the female, whirled around, brought Viveet into guard, and smiled at him. Viveet sizzled. Shimmery demigod blood slipped down my wrist, hot from Viveet’s blue flames.
“Leave now.”
With a quick jerk of his head, and a twisted scowl, he motioned to the remaining demigods present in silent command. They shuffled back, upper lips curled. Two vanished, then the female. The leader retreated last, a promise of retribution in his gaze.
I snarled.
He cleared out.
For five minutes, I waited. No secondary attack. No sound. Certain they hadn’t returned, I dropped to my knees. Exhaustion crept over me as I struggled to stay conscious. The back of my head prickled as darkness swept over me. I slapped my cheeks.
“Stay. With. It.”
I definitely hadn’t been ready for that.
With deep breaths, life slowly returned to my brain. My weak muscles regained movement. I staggered back to my feet.
Shuffling grass reminded me of the thirteen children I still had to get to safety. The whirling world settled when I leaned against a tree. With another spell, I conjured a piece of charcoal and parchment.
“What’s the name of your town?” I called.
Blonde hair peeked out from behind a tree, then disappeared. Hushed whispers, then a command to be quiet followed. The oldest boy emerged with two children on either side of him, clutching his arms. He stopped once he saw me.
“They’re gone?” he asked.
I nodded.
“The town is Tisdale.”
I blinked twice to clear the double-image of charcoal in my right hand and pressed the parchment onto my thigh. Lopsided, childish letters struggled onto the paper.
Tisdale schoolhouse. Demigod attack. Come now.
The letter rushed out of sight, Grandfather-bound. I tossed the charcoal to the side, dropped to a knee, and grimaced. The swirling world stirred back up again. I fought off the urge to vomit.
“Stay there,” I shouted. “Help is coming.”
When no one disobeyed, I scrambled for the teacher.
* * *
Guardians flooded the area.
Sniffling noses and trembling shoulders calmed. Parents transported to the schoolhouse and children ran to their open arms. An Apothecary appeared for the teacher, who hadn’t awoken, yet breathed. Scarlett appeared for a few moments, but returned to the castle after speaking with Grandfather. Trouble filled her gaze.
Grandfather, Matthais, and Talmund, the Head of Guardians, stood in a circle around me while I finished my report of events. In the background, a Guardian contingent secured the area. The wobbly feeling had faded from my head, but I hid my still-trembling legs.
Grandfather studied me, as if he sensed something wasn’t right. Near the end of Talmund’s questioning, Grandfather pretended to tie a shoe, then stood at my side. I leaned on him, grateful for the support.
Finally, their questions eased. Children returned home. The apothecary transported the teacher away. One by one, the meadow emptied of witches and life until only Grandfather and I remained. Trees chattered lightly in the background.
Hands clasped behind his back, he turned to me. “And now you can tell me how you really feel.”
Weak, I thought.
The extrication of god magic in Alaysia had almost killed me—I’d flirted with death, heard the voice of Deasylva, and chose to come back to Alkarra. At the last possible moment, Letum Wood crept in, healed me. Six weeks had passed since that day. My body grew stronger daily, yet hadn’t returned to full capacity. The power behind Letum Wood, and my burgeoning connection with the forest, was my only confidence.
I leaned on it for life.
“Never better,” I quipped.
“Which means you’re tired,” he drawled in a musing way. “Such magical use must have cost a great deal of energy. That’s what you get for testing your limits. New limits, I’d wager, since the god magic left.”
I cast him a wry, sidelong glance.
His lips twitched.
“I’ve had some experience with strong, savior-like personalities in my life, Bianca. You’re all the same. A Monroe you may be through your mother, but a Graeme you are through your father. Mildred shows in your personality everyday.”
“I thought it wouldn’t work,” I admitted. “But there wasn’t time to think of something else.”
“Clever enough.”
The complicated strings of the plan lay in neat lines in my head after reviewing them, but they hadn’t seemed so neat at the time. Gratitude that the ordeal was over further weakened me. Food, water, and sleep would restore my ability to make sense of it.
“How did you know to come here? You didn’t mention it to Matthais and Talmund.”
I shifted uneasily. Not many witches knew the truth of my connection to the forest, and I preferred to keep it that way. Thankfully, Talmund and Matthais hadn’t asked.
“Letum Wood brought me.”
“Oh? Is that normal?”
“It’s happened more since I returned from Alaysia.”
“Part of your growing connection with Letum Wood? I mean, Deasylva.”
“I believe so.”
“Hmm.” Grandfather put an arm on my shoulder, tucked me into his side. “Ended well, but this has brought up a bevy of new concerns. Baxter is going to have a headache with this one.”