mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate (23 page)

“But you wanted the power.” She glanced up. It looked like he was about to argue, but he closed his mouth. He wouldn’t blame it on his upbringing, she realized. Though that really was the reason he’d chosen magic over her.

The reason didn’t matter now, not when they couldn’t be together, but it helped her understand.

After a moment, he said, “Yes, I wanted power. But I was mistaken. I returned to my sorcerer clan after the apprenticeship, but it no longer made sense the way it once had. The way they live… No love, no real affection. They’d be better off as loners, but Mytheans are always stronger as a group. So they built some strange bond based on the worship of power. But to do what? It’s all well and good to have immense capability, but after a while, what do you use it for? What’s the point?”

“I never thought I’d hear you speak this way.”

He shrugged. “Time. Life. They change a man. I built my fortune and reputation with power, but it’s been empty for a long time.”

She bit her lip, then asked, “Did you leave the sorcerers? You live alone now.”

“I did. I went to my father’s people. Wulvers. Being a half blood is probably why I didn’t fall completely in line with the sorcerers.”

“Did you like it there?” Though it was a bad idea to grow too close, she found that she was ravenous for information about him.

“It was all right. I got to meet my brother, Felix. And to know my father a bit before he died. But even that didn’t suit me. I was searching, I think, for what I felt with you. I never found it.”

Sofia’s hands twisted in the comforter.

“When this is all over, I want you to live with me,” he said again.

She tried to crush the stupid desire that welled in her at the idea. “What about my village?” 

It was a dumb question. They couldn’t be together, so it didn’t matter. She would be with them no matter what—at least the ones who chose to relocate with her.

“We can live with them if you prefer,” Malcolm said. “Establish a new settlement somewhere. The curse shall no longer apply since it’s not Bruxa’s Eye. I’ll help you build it.”

Aching want was crushed by dark disappointment. “Build it? You’re a warlock. Your specialty is destruction. And we can’t be together. You know that. You’ve heard the stories. You
knew
Laira. You saw what happened to her. Fate will find a way to tear us apart. I can’t take that. Not to mention, the way fate does its work, it could be terrible.”

“I can make it work. I can keep fate off our backs.”

“How? By not loving me?” she asked. Her throat tightened at the thought. She blinked quickly, trying to hold back tears. 

“Yes. It’s the way it has to be.”

He didn’t love her. She knew that. He might have once, but he no longer did. Not loving was safest. It had to be that way.

But why did it hurt so badly?

“If we’re careful, we can make this work.” He rubbed his hand gently over her arm as if he couldn’t get enough of touching her.

“By careful, you mean you’ll never love me. Never make promises. Never really be with me.” 

“It has to be that way.”

He was right. It did have to be that way. But she couldn’t accept so little. He’d hurt her once before and she couldn’t let it happen again. She’d be so close to what she wanted, only to have it slowly eat away at her heart until it was devoured entirely.

She pulled out of his grasp and curled up on her side, away from him. The slight soreness between her legs only reminded her of what they’d had. “It’s not enough for me, Malcolm. It wasn’t then, and it isn’t now.”

He lay beside her and pulled her to him. Sofia stiffened.

“Just for tonight,” he said.

Slowly, she relaxed.

Just for tonight. Because tomorrow they would be through.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Mud squished beneath Malcolm’s boots as he made his way through the jungle alongside Sofia. It was still thirty minutes before dawn and Sofia lit the way with her wand. Kitty went ahead, jumping from tree root to tree root to stay out of the mud. His wulver night vision sufficed to get him through the forest, but he kept glancing at Sofia, who was lit by the light of her wand. She was once again in the guise of a Crone, but he could see her beneath it.

Lying next to her last night had been a revelation. Truthfully, the last few days had been a revelation.

He wanted her more than he wanted the power. He wanted her more than he wanted anything. But he’d done wrong by her. Guilt clawed at him for his role in her village’s dire straits. 

He
was to blame for this. No question—he’d have to do everything in his power to see that these people stayed safe. 

And Sofia… If he wanted any chance at convincing her to stay with him, he was going to have to find a way to shed his Oath Breaker curse. Which meant getting rid of his warlock powers.

He clenched a fist. The idea of giving up his power made him sick. But even worse was the idea that there might not be a way.

“We’re almost there,” Sofia said.

The jungle was alive around them, giant trees on all sides and night animals rustling and filling the air with screeches and growls. The path opened up to a clearing that was bordered on all sides by enormous jungle trees. In the middle, thirteen tall, flat stones rose toward the air. The six faction leaders who made up the council each stood in front of a stone, waiting. All were positioned on one side of the circle.

He’d thought stone circles were primarily found in the British Isles. “Who built these?”

“Our ancestors,” Sofia said. “A long time ago. This isn’t the only stone circle in Brazil, but it’s the only one built by Mytheans. It’s a place where we can come to contact the dead. To be closer to those we’ve lost.”

He followed her into the circle. Aleia and Inara stood near the middle. Sofia greeted the council members who’d taken up their positions in front of the stones, then turned to Aleia and Inara.

“I’m going to open a portal to our afterworld, then I’ll call my ancestors forth. Inara, since you’re a world walker, perhaps you can assist me.”

“I can use my magic to amplify your call,” Inara said. “Just tell me the names of those we’re calling.”

Sofia repeated the names of her ancestors, then turned to Malcolm. “Could you do the same?”

He nodded.

“All right.” She glanced toward the east, where the sky was beginning to turn brilliant pink and orange, the colors bleeding across the sky. “We can begin.”

She turned to face the other side of the circle, toward the seven stones that had no one standing in front of them. Kitty sat at her right and Inara stood at her left. Aleia drifted back to stand in front of a stone. 

Malcolm could feel the gazes of the observing council members at his back, and though he didn’t usually like putting his back to other powerful Mytheans, there was no helping it now. He’d committed himself to doing whatever Sofia needed from him. He stepped up to stand next to Kitty.

Sofia swept her black cloak away from her shoulders and raised her wand. She murmured quiet words under her breath, so whisper-soft that he couldn’t make them out. Her wand moved in a square pattern, the tip alight.

As the sun broke over the trees, a glowing space—like a doorway with no door—opened on the other side of the circle. Magic trembled in the air, quieting the jungle animals until all he could hear was the breeze.

Sofia raised her voice, calling the names of her ancestors. Malcolm and Inara joined her, repeating the names she’d told them just moments ago. 

“Laís, Karajá, Nauquá, Panenoá, Aparai, Oriva,” The strange, ancient names echoed through the jungle.

The empty, glowing doorway pulsed, its light going from bright yellow to pure white. Malcolm’s skin prickled from the power that radiated outward.

The pulsing glow ceased, halting on pure white. A figure approached the door, cloaked in black and appearing as a Crone. She shimmered slightly. She was a soul given form, not an actual body. She stepped through the door and out into the jungle.

“Mother,” Sofia said, joy in her voice.

“Daughter. How I’ve missed you.” Sofia’s mother’s voice was warm, loving.

Another figure stepped through the door and took up her position next to Sofia’s mother. She also wore a dark cloak and the Crone’s visage. 

“Grandmother” Sofia said. Her voice was still joyful, though more respectful. As Malcolm recalled, Sofia had never met her grandmother.

“Child,” the grandmother’s voice was also warm.

Four other figures stepped out of the portal, one by one. All appeared as black-cloaked Crones. Sofia greeted each of them and was greeted in turn.

The last Crone to step out—Oriva, she’d been called—spoke in a voice heavy with power. “Why have you called us forth?”

“I’ve learned something troubling,” Sofia said. Quickly, she explained their situation with the High Witches. “And I understand that you originally made the deal with the High Witches that bound us to this. In exchange for magical power for our line, you tied your progeny to the High Witches, forcing us to provide tributes or be responsible for the destruction of our village.”

The souls that stood next to her gasped, their heads whipping toward her in shock. They hadn’t known. He’d suspected as much.

Oriva’s brows rose. Her gaze was a sharp black that sent a chill down Malcolm’s spine. Her voice was like ice. “You do not enjoy the gift of power?”

“Yes,” Sofia said. “But not at the expense of my village.”

“That is not your decision to make. You are too young to understand. Or perhaps you are too stupid.”

Malcolm stepped forward, but Sofia’s hissed warning stopped him.

“Either way,” Sofia said. “The High Witches are going to destroy our village.”

Oriva nodded her head. “Yes. I am not surprised. They thrive on destruction.”

“You knew that and still made the deal?” Sofia asked.

“Yes.” Her voice cracked like a whip. “I’ve never been terribly concerned with my progeny. It suited me, therefore I did it.”

Bloody hell, and he’d thought his sorcerer clan was bad. 

Sofia’s mouth twisted in disgust, but she spoke evenly. “The council members are resisting abandoning the village. But we cannot fight the High Witches and win. They’re too powerful. And because you made this deal with them, fate is on their side.”

“I fail to see how you expect me to solve your problem.”

“Agree that we can’t win and convince the council that we should abandon the village.”

The other souls were rustling agitatedly now, as if they didn’t like what Oriva was saying, or possibly the position in which she’d placed Sofia and the village. Malcolm didn’t blame them. They’d been caught in the same trap Sofia was, spending their entire lives in the role of Protector.

“Why?” Oriva asked, her voice emotionless. “It is not the place that is cursed. It is the people. A place is nothing without the people who live within it. The High Witches thrive on the destruction of lives more so than they do on the destruction of property. All the descendants of the original villagers are cursed.”

Sofia stepped back, shock on her face. There were gasps from behind them.

“How? That’s not possible,” Sofia said.

“Of course it is. It would take time, but the High Witches are talented and strong. You can all run, scatter to the far ends of the earth, but the High Witches will still find you.”

“But—why? Gods, that’s awful. How could you do that?” Sofia’s voice shook.

She shrugged. “It was not difficult. Thousands of years ago, my father died. He’d founded the village. As his progeny, I became its leader. When the High Witches approached me, offering me immense power in exchange for lives other than my own, it was easy to agree.” There was no remorse in her voice.

“But the people of the village were your family. Your friends!”

“As long as I paid the tributes, no one I knew personally needed to die.” Oriva’s eyes were cold. “It’s been over two thousand years and they are only now coming to collect. The current citizens of Bruxa’s Eye might be descendants of some of my friends, but they aren’t my actual friends. And some of the people who live here aren’t even descendants. Their fate is no concern of mine.”

“There’s has to be something we can do!” Sofia said.

“Fight them and hope to win.” Oriva shrugged. “Though that will be nearly impossible.”

Sofia’s shoulders sagged.

The five other souls who stood next to Oriva erupted into shouts. They converged on her.

Sofia waved her wand and the souls and portal disappeared. She turned to the others, her eyes dark. “I’m so sorry.”

“Fates, your ancestor was a piece of work,” Inara said.

“That’s the truth of it,” the big Were said. “But we wanted to fight the High Witches, and we will fight them.”

Sofia tried to force her body to stop trembling. “More than half of the village are descendants of the original cursed villagers. Perhaps even more. The others could flee, but…”

“Then everyone would die,” Amira, the vampire, said. “I will stay, though my family has only been here for eight hundred years. Our strength is in our numbers. Our combined powers. I won’t turn my back on my friends.”