“We have to stop him, Tristan. We have to figure out some way to reverse his corruption before everything is gone.” Anaria’s fingers tightened around my shoulders before those fierce, quiet words were swept away by the wind.
I hummed in my chest, the only answer I was able to give in this form before beginning our descent toward the tiny speck of green floating in the sea of putrid black. Beyond the untouched town of Mysthaven loomed Lake Moor, almost as big as an ocean, the still water a silvery mirror reflecting the gray clouds overhead.
“The town is bigger than I expected.” Anaria stroked her fingers down the side of my neck and my wyvern shivered in pleasure. “We need to be on our toes when we land. I don’t want a repeat of what happened at Stormfall.”
My hum turned into a purr when her fingers danced over my scales one last time, the fantastical wooden castle growing bigger as we dropped from the sky. The street was empty when we landed in a plume of dust, Anaria sliding from my back before I could hiss a warning for her to stay put until I removed any threats.
“There’s nobody here,” she said loudly before patting my shoulder. Anaria took one long look around then dropped the bag of clothes to the ground. “They may have fled ahead of the blight.”
I swung my head around, peering to one end of the street then the other.
Nothing. And yet…
“Shift, Tristan, and get dressed. Then we’ll start looking for that sword.”
Magic hung around Anaria like a blanket, thick, star-flecked shadows that seemed darker today. Even the wind carrying the reeking odor in from the surrounding forest didn’t disturb her glimmering mantle of power.
Even so, I dug my talons into the dirt, scanning the street again. Something was here. Someone was watching.
She ran her fingers over my shoulder. “You can’t help me as a wyvern. My magic is at full power and gods help anyone who decides to fuck with us today. This isn’t the Barrens and we’re not getting ambushed like we did before. Now give me back Tristan, please.”
The shift rippled through me, bending bone and tearing flesh, a quick flash of blinding pain that left a surge of weakness in its wake followed by a few seconds of shock while my body readjusted and began functioning again.
And those few seconds were all it took for the coven to spring their trap.
Magic surrounded us in a fury of fire and lightning and shadow, engulfing us as Anaria tossed me a pair of trousers. I didn’t think I’d ever been so humiliated and infuriated at the same time, trying to cover my bare arse whilst under attack.
The only good thing—nothing got through Anaria’s shield.
“Well, at least the village isn’t empty.” Her grin was a shade terrifying.
“You really didn’t think I’d allow anyone to hurt my favorite wyvern, did you?” She poked me in the side. “Now, let’s see who we’re dealing with. I sure as fuck don’t plan on ending today fighting for my life in an arena.”
“I still don’t see anyone.” I yanked my shirt over my head.
“Yeah, me either, but they’re definitely out there.” Another orb of glowing magic struck the shield, veins of shimmering light illuminating the barrier a storm cloud.
“We are not here to hurt you; we only have some questions,” Anaria called before I could tell her she was wasting her time.
I pulled on my boots then a cloak that Anaria tied beneath my chin with a smile. A happy smile, no less. One that was completely at odds with our situation.
I gripped her arms. “I doubt I can fly us out of here, even with your shield around us. They’ll blast us from the sky. So any clever ideas you have would be good.”
“I wonder if telling them I am an ex-High Priestess would carry any weight?” Her grin was maddeningly irreverent, given we were under attack.
“I don’t know enough about the coven’s history to give you advice. For all we know these witches are at war with the High Barrens Coven.” Anaria scanned the sky, the forest around us, the nearest trees untouched by the blight.
She was right. The magic here was strong.
Strong enough to hold the blight at bay, because even the forest, reborn from the Fae magic, gave these wooden walls a wide berth.
“I know one thing. Unless they learn to fly, they’re trapped, and sooner or later, they’ll run out of food and water, if they haven’t already.” Her voice went low. “They’ll die in the very place they thought would keep them safe.”
I slung the bag over my shoulder. “So what’s your plan?”
We both ducked—out of habit, more than anything—when a fireball flew out of nowhere and engulfed the shield—and us—in flames before evaporating. “That one was hot enough to burn the flesh from our bones,” I pointed out, brushing my thumb over her warm, rosy cheek.
Anaria gathered her hair behind her head. “Let’s stay close and head for the castle. Eventually, someone will appear to threaten us in person, I suppose. Then we can ask about the sword.”