Wind sliced across my face.
Seconds after my feet touched sand—more appropriately, sea—rain saturated my clothes. The sandy beach near the castle lay under waist-deep waves that surged with icy fingers, clawing toward the land.
I gasped, shoved hair out of my face. Water coated the world. Waves. Whitecaps. Wind and sand and sky.
A nearby scream jerked me to the left.
Only twenty paces away, a woman attempted to run through the water, arms held out. The wind whisked the cry from her lips—I only heard it by sheer luck. The high-pitched hysteria sounded oddly like the unearthly wail of the storm itself.
Ten paces from her arms, a small child flailed in the water.
With a gasp, I disappeared. Magic brought me closer—I landed within a pace from where a mop of curls had been. No sign remained now. Frantic, I scoured the top of the water. The woman disappeared, battered by a wave that took her feet out from beneath her.
Heart racing, I scrambled through the waves. A spell to call the child to me brought a sea-shell right to my face, slicing open my cheek. I ignored it. A flash of color appeared briefly to my right. Across the way, the mother surfaced with a gasp, sputtering, dozens of paces back now.
Desperate, I lunged.
Another spell shoved me through the water at greater speed—oh, how I missed the ease of god magic!—and toward the spot. Waves and currents buffeted from every side, like a maelstrom of rage. My chest burned, my lungs begged for air when something brushed my hand. I grabbed, pushed my feet against the sand, and shoved out of the tempestuous water.
A limp body came with me.
Waves rushed over my head as I pushed the child into the air. A boy, no more than three, I’d wager.
I transported higher on the beach, out of the waves, turned the child over, and thumped his back. Head pointed down, water ran in rivulets down his thick curls.
“Breathe!” I cried. “Breathe!”
I rubbed his chest, opened his lips. Every healing incantation I could think of poured out of me, every blessing that came to mind. Eternities passed while I waited for a sign of life. A shriek pierced the air above the howling wind. His mother. I waved an arm, calling her closer. She stumbled onto the sand, sprinting and tripping her way over.
“Please!” I begged the little boy.
A shudder.
A cough.
A tremor of movement shook his shoulders, arms, and legs. Water rushed out of his mouth and nose all at once. He hacked, gagged, and then vomited. I pulled him to his knees, rubbed a hand on his back. Limp in my arms, the groggy lad let out a cry, calmed, cried weakly again.
Rain drove into us like sharp needles when I cradled him to my chest. His eyes lolled, lips gaining more color. The bluish tint began to recede. His mother skidded to a stop in the sand with a scream. Hair pasted her forehead and neck in wet ropes.
“He’s all right!” I shouted over the wind in broken Ilese. “He’s breathing.”
She collapsed at my side. I passed the boy into her arms. He broke into quiet wails, stuttered with coughs and choking. She spoke incoherently, lost in sobs, while I grabbed onto her arm and pointed to the vague outline of the castle in the distance, barely visible through the storm.
“Castello!”
Child clasped tight, she nodded. The blasting wind nearly knocked her over when she attempted to stand. Sand ground into my cheeks, collected in my eyelashes as I grimaced and put an arm around her. She stumbled into me. The ocean surged closer with each passing moment.
Magnolia Castle lay several hundred paces away, surrounded by water. The lower level must be half full with this high of a tide. The ocean had advanced so far. If my suspicions were correct, magic would protect the interior.
With the wind so strong, we wouldn’t make it by walking. This witch must not be able to transport, or she would have already done so with her child. If I left with the boy, I risked losing her to the storm.
Nothing for it. I had to do what I’d never done before: transport three witches at one time. Myself, two others.
It could be done. Whether it was wise or safe remained another question entirely. Yet, nothing about this situation was safe. No matter what I chose, life and danger lurked in the fringes.
“Castello! Transport.”
Shock widened her eyes.
I issued the spell.
The magical demand nearly drowned me by itself. In a flash, it felt as if all my reserves bottomed out and whipped me away. The pressure of transporting tripled, as if I was attempting to shove too-large of a burden through too-small a hole. With all of my willpower, I held onto the magic, kept the spell alive in my mind. Only the short distance saved us from getting lost.
Seconds later, we dropped.
With a cry, I landed on my back. The woman and boy thumped next to me with a groan and another plaintive, weak hiccup.
I sat up.
We’d landed inside the main foyer on the second floor of Magnolia Castle, right where I’d wanted to go. Shadows burdened a dark chandelier overhead and darkness coated the walls. I collapsed back down, relieved and magically fissured open. The spell had been quick and intense, but still drained me.
Having never required so much of the magic before, I let my heart settle.
The woman cried quietly, clutching her son to her chest. He blinked in a sluggardly way, lips faintly pink. With a spell, I wearily dried our clothes, the floor, our hair, then summoned a towel and a blanket. The mother quieted when I draped the blanket over his back. Shock glazed her eyes as she peered at me.
I gave a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.
Tears wetted her cheeks. “Thank you,” she murmured in Ilese. I nodded, then pushed to my feet.
“Allo?” I called.
The sound rippled in the empty room, almost devoid of light. My dried dress whirled around my legs when I spun around to encompass the area, then settled. I sucked in a sharp breath.
“Jikes.”
The reason for the subdued light became apparent. Behind us, wall-length windows that usually looked out on the sea now lay under water. The sea had consumed the lower floor of Magnolia Castle.
Ocean surrounded us.
I stepped closer to the windows, eyes wide. My fingertips touched the glass pane, peering into the swampy darkness. The top of the water lapped around the highest edge. Every now and then, a wave crashed into the wall with a foamy slap.
“The good gods,” I murmured.
The witch approached from behind, face slack. A twig stuck out of the back of her head, giving her a wild appearance. The boy had calmed in her arms, shuddering in between breathy cries. She clutched him, wrapped in the blanket, and whispered, “La mer.”
A distant voice wound down a nearby staircase.
“Allo? Allo?”
The woman turned, called in Ilese. Moments later, a candle preceded a female in a bustling dress. Based on her lacking surprise and a sense of resignation in her tired features, I assumed we weren’t the first ones to appear like this. She stopped, peered at us, and waved a hand.
“Come,” she said in Ilese. “We go.”
* * *
The Eastern Network fared worse than expected.
Bodies crowded the upper floors of Magnolia Castle. Flickering candle light and soft sighs slipped from beneath doors. Other parts of the castle lay in near silence. Servants cluttered the halls, skittering around with harried expressions. Only candlelight gave a sense of daytime to the place. The storm had blocked out the sun in a disorienting display of power.
“Niko?” I asked.
The woman that we followed huffed. Thankfully, she spoke the common language. “In his apartment.“
“Can you tell him that Bianca Monroe would like to speak with him?”
She cast me a look, then shrugged.
Minutes later, she escorted me to the middle of his darkened office. I stood alone, listening to the roar of the storm, while the bustling servant ushered the mother and child farther down the hall. The mother only had time to shoot me a look of deepest gratitude before the servant whisked them around a corner. I silently wished them well.
Barefoot, I made my way to the window.
Arborra?
A mild, distant whisper replied. We fare well. The ill-fated are gone.
My heart thumped. Not just for what Arborra said, but the distance at which we could speak. Deasylva’s magic stirred in brilliant, restless power in response. I pressed my palm to my chest, awed by the quickly-restoring magic. Transporting three witches should have tired me out all day.
Already, the ability returned.
It almost reminded me of . . . Ignis.
Waves surged, brought by gale-force winds and thunder that rattled my teeth. Yet, Magnolia Castle held against the onslaught. Fronds whacked into windows. Sand skittered against glass panes.
Necce, the city, pressed up against the flowing grounds of Magnolia Castle, would fare far worse. In winds such as this, roofs would be stripped free from homes. The sea would back through canals to flood lowlands. Crops, plants, trees, would disappear under water and tempest.
I stared at the wild storm, at a loss.
“The East has weathered many difficulties,” came a purring voice behind me. “But none such as this.”
I whirled around. Niko stood back there, flanked by darkness and muted candlelight. Shadows danced across the black-and-white tiled floor behind him. None of the torches were lit on the wall, nor were the candles in the chandeliers overhead. A single candle floated next to him, swamped by the sickly-green hue of the storm outside.
“Niko.”
He inclined his head. “Miss Bianca. I heard you saved a woman and her son.”
“News travels fast.”
“It’s a small castle.”
“She needed a little help.”
“She is my cousin.” Deep tones of remorse lingered in his words. “You saved her firstborn boy. Her husband died last week, and she came here for refuge. Her power is weak with so much loss, and her transportation wasn’t as precise as it should be. She landed in the sea, not knowing it had come so high. Thank you. You have my deepest gratitude.”
“I’m sorry for her loss, and I’m grateful I could prevent another one. Your gratitude is unnecessary, Niko. I would have done it for anyone.”
A half-smile appeared. “They are calling you the Lady-witch of Letum Wood now.”
“They?”
He shrugged. “Everyone.”
I peered outside. Though I tried hard to keep it locked away, I’d inadvertently brought Alaysia here with me, even in title. The thought made me uncomfortable, though I cherished the name. With a lift of my hand, I motioned outside in a bid to change the subject.
“Priscilla sent me to check on you. She’s worried about you.”
A gaunt expression crossed his face when his lips pressed into a grim line. “What day is it?” he rasped.
“Third day of the week.”
He blinked, astonished. “It cannot be.”
“She hasn’t heard from you in three days. She’s worried. I told her I’d come. I had no idea . . .”
Niko lowered into a chair, head in his hands. “Of course I didn’t mean to worry her. I . . . I simply didn’t realize how much time had passed. I have been trying to save Necce and witches and the castle. It’s . . .”
He trailed away.
“I’m sorry, Niko. She’s not upset, simply worried.”
“My son?”
“Beautiful. Healthy. Both of them are doing just fine.”
Relief brought tears to his eyes. He blinked them back. “He is my greatest miracle.”
Niko stood, this time on firmer emotional ground. “Please, give Priscilla my apologies. I simply—”
I put a hand on his arm. “She’ll understand. She was concerned for you, Niko. That’s all. She wanted me to make sure that you were all right.”
“She cares that much?”
I nodded.
Interest cluttered his eyes, then faded. Accepting what I said with a nod, he gestured outside, to whipping winds and bleak, gray rain. Powerful magic was the only thing that lay between the interior of Magnolia Castle and the ocean. Window reinforcement spells, for one. Spells to prevent the collapse of walls and foundations, for another.
The ancient magnolia trees outside the castle continued to stand. Their branches were just visible above a wave every now and then. White petals freckled the raging sea.
“My witches move inland,” he murmured, “though there isn’t going to be much help there for a long time, as rain and flooding are everywhere. The next highest ground is the Northern Network, but the storm extends there.”
“As if someone knew how to make this as lethal as possible.”
“And Geralyn closed her borders to all lower Networks,” he muttered.
I sighed.
“Letum Wood is a little higher than the East.” I chewed my bottom lip. “Above the marshes on that side of the Eastern Network, at any rate. What if you send your witches into the forest?”
The lack of surprise—or revulsion—in his expression made me think that this idea must have already occurred to him. That, or Niko improved in his political alacrity every day.
“My witches are . . . quite afraid of Letum Wood.”
A hint of amusement colored his tone, dampened by the macabre background of Alkarra in this moment.
“Can’t say that I blame them.”
He chuckled through his nose. “Coming from any witch but you, that would not be as funny.”
I cracked a wry smile, then sobered. When I turned to face him, he matched me. The distance had closed, lending my first real view of his face. His dark eyes, like coffee grounds, held a great deal of weight. Fatigue. An inexhaustible . . . something . . . lurked in the background of his morose voice.
Arborra, will you protect witches from outside the woods?
The question had only just been issued when a response came.
Send them.
“Send your witches to my forest. Letum Wood is expecting them.”
Niko laughed, incredulous. He sobered when I gave no response.
“You are serious?”
“Very.”
For a second, he floundered. His brow lowered. “Your Council would not approve. I cannot send refugees into Letum Wood without speaking to Scarlett first. It’s political suicide in a tempestuous time. Scarlett has given refuge to my Council but . . . ”
“It might be an issue with the Central Network Council, but they don’t really care about the forest. You know Scarlett would stand up for you, and so would I.”
At that, his amusement deepened.
I scowled.
“It’s not enough, Bianca.”
“The Council doesn’t need to know. We’ll keep your witches close to the Eastern Border, anyway. I guarantee their protection.”
Niko blinked, then tilted his head to the side. His voice was a mere murmur. “Bianca Monroe, are you suggesting that we subvert your leaders?”
“No. I’m suggesting we save your witches. You have the permission of the forest—that’s all you need. If you were to send your witches into Letum Wood, say through the village of Poitier, then they might find a natural wooden archway there. Two trees that grew together to form a sort of arbor.”
With my hands, I drew an archway in the air. Niko didn’t take his gaze off of me as I continued.
“Vines grew around the arch. If you see it from either side, it looks like a doorway. Should they go through there, there would be trails that would lead them into safer places to stay. Your witches would be on high ground, far from the heart of Letum Wood where the dragons lurk, and they’d be there with the blessing of the Lady-witch of Letum Wood.”
I paused, searched deeper. The magic responded to my call, and voices from far away lifted.
We protect you.
You protect us.
“They’re waiting,” I said confidently. “My forest will keep them safe. The Lady-witch of Letum Wood promises it.”
“And the Council?”
“Let me deal with them,” I muttered.
He paused, quiet in contemplation for several moments. Flashes of lightening and growls of percussive thunder rent the air. The windows buffered some of the sound, but memories of the Heart of Alaysia still rambled through me, all the same.
“How can I repay you?” he asked.
“No repayment. Alkarra is one land. We need to unite, fight for each other. If we have any hope of surviving, we’ll forget about Network borders and work together. This is us against the gods.”
“I will send messages to the Coven Leaders attempting to keep the peace.” He paused, jaw tense, then said on a breath. “Tell my son I will see him soon. And tell Priscilla . . . tell her that I appreciate her. I look forward to being with them both again.”