Page 77 of The Flame King's Queen

It’s decided that is the best plan, and once Anise has run to the barracks to change into her novice uniform, we all set off.

The flight is swift and uneventful, and I admire the confident way that Anise flies on Ereskier while keeping close to the group and following Captain Ashton’s orders.

In Amriste, Anise shows off her black and silver riding clothes to Dad, who nods approvingly. It’s not a fully decorated wingrunner uniform with all its many pockets and flourishes, but it marks her as belonging to them, and I’m smiling proudly as she tells Dad all about her flying lessons.

Dusan, Fiala, and the rest of the escort spread throughout the village while we head to Biddy’s cottage.

“Well met, young witches,” Biddy greets us as we enter. “And the little miss who doesn’t want to be a witch.” Humor is glimmering in her old eyes.

“How did you know about that, Mistress Hawthorne?” Anise asks her in astonishment.

“I don’t need crows to see what goes on in the big city. Little sisters like to tread their own paths. I was a little sister once, and you wouldn’t catch me dead walking the same road as my big sister. I became a witch. She became a baker’s wife and had a dozen children.”

Anise pulls a face at the thought of having children.

I burst out laughing, and pat my stomach. “You will still have to be auntie to my dozen children.”

“That’s fine. I can manage auntie.”

We’re all just getting comfortable when Biddy calls out in a sharp tone, “Do not loiter outside my door. Enter, or begone with you.”

Ravenna and I glance at each other in surprise. The door opens, and a dark figure fills the doorway.

“What a cozy little coven,” Kane snarls, looking around at us all.

Anise gets to her feet, her fists clenched angrily. “What do you want?”

“Nothing from you,” he says, closing the door behind him. He has to nearly bend double so he doesn’t hit his head on the ceiling. This cottage wasn’t made for Alphas. Though Kane seeks her attention, Ravenna keeps her expression aloof, and her gaze averted.

“What are you doing here, Kane?” I ask him.

He doesn’t look away from Ravenna. “Are you really asking that earnestly, witch? Does your mate not follow you around or smother you with bodyguards?”

“You’re saying you’re here to protect her?” I ask doubtfully.

“What marvelous powers of deduction you have.”

Ravenna turns to Biddy. “I apologize for the disruption, mistress. I will return to Lenhale so that the rest of the coven may meet in peace.”

Biddy waves her back onto her stool. “Let him stay. The warlock might learn a thing or two.”

Kane snorts in derision.

Ravenna looks guilty and upset, but she prepares a pot of herbal tea. After passing us all a cup, she presents one to Kane.

He gazes at it with suspicion. When he mutters a word under his breath, the contents of the cup light up. “Really, witch?” He grimaces and puts the cup aside.

“It was worth a try,” she says with a light shrug. To us, she says, “Don’t worry. I only poisoned his.”

Biddy passes around some teacake, and for a while, the four of us discuss Emmeric raising the dead queen in Lenhale. My crone is keen to hear about the spells we cast, and is even impressed by the results. I find my heart lightening with pleasure, recalling how gruff and critical Biddy used to be with me.

“I remember that once I was barely fit to dig weeds from your garden.”

Biddy gives me a long, hard look. “A bit of muddy work kept you grounded. It doesn’t do for young and powerful witches to get too big of a head.” She sniffs, and her expression softens. “You were a simple village girl thrust onto the throne of Maledin. I thought it might do good to put a simple task or two in front of you.”

“I think you were right about that.”

Cradling her teacup in both hands, Ravenna says, “Mistress Hawthorne, if ever you’re in need of a witch to weed your garden, I would be happy to help you.”

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