Page 48 of The Crow Games

The homes in this district were large and luxurious with many stories and steep gables, the intersections decorated in spitting fountains. It was immediately clear why someone like Bastard would claim this space. The wind blew in off the ice walls, making the weather temperate and pleasant.

When the gates parted, Blue took the lead, guiding us to a corner of the great wall. She cast a water spell on the ice, and large divots and notches appeared in the frost. The wall looked like the back of a frozen crocodile when she was finished.

We mounted the ice one after the other. I climbed last. Just over halfway up, I started to feel the vertigo and a weakness in my muscles from my depleted spirit, but I didn’t look down. Wind whipped at my face. Teeth gritted, I reached higher than the homes around me. Nola gave me her hand when I made it near the top, and she pulled me the rest of the way up.

The wall was so thick, we could comfortably walk three-abreast, but we kept to the edge farthest from the trial. My boots hit chipped ice and the encrusted stones within, the friction steadying my footing.

This was how Blue made her way out of the district every time the second trial arrived, and I soon learned why it was preferable to the ground.

Not only were the red-hooded warlocks plentiful down below, but they walked the streets accompanied by two-headed, wolf-like garm. I didn’t realize the beasts were tamable, but these appeared to listen to the warlocks, chasing prisoners out of buildings for them. Thankfully the creatures couldn’t climb, and if they could smell us, they were much too distracted by easier prey on the ground.

“Bastard isn’t usually so bold,” Blue murmured.

“He’s done recruiting, I suppose,” Ruchel said softly. “Now they’re just eliminating threats and turning witches into hexen relics.”

“They showed their hand too soon,” Nola said. “Bastard won’t make it to the games at this rate. I look forward to the day every red hood gets wiped out.”

You could wipe them out, Lisbeth said.

The errant thought struck me like a brick dropped onto my head.That’s not the plan, I grumbled at Lisbeth’s memory and my own self for conjuring the thought. In life, she’d had a bad habit of worrying about the less fortunate in a way that frequently put us both at risk, and here she was still trying to rub off on me. The gall of that woman.

Damn it all, how I missed her.

Survive the trials. Escape and murder the guilty god. That was the plan. Liberating the Otherworld was not anywhere on that list. I kept my eyes down, my lips firmly shut, and I marched on.

We weren’t the only witches clever enough to make use of the wall. Talia’s earth coven—or those who openly traveled with her—scaled it ahead of us using a green spell of climbing vines, and just ahead of them was Brick’s smaller group of four reds from the train.

Screams rose up from the streets. A huddle of hooded warlocks untethered their beast. A witch sprinted for his life, the violet scarf of a scribe flapping around his neck. The garm nipped at his heels, and cackles rose up from the warlocks, a bitter sound that hardened my stomach.

The wolfish beast sprang, and I turned away. The sounds were horrid enough—I didn’t need the images stuck in my head forever too. My hands made fists at my sides, nails digging crescents into my palms. My spirit awoke at the horrors all around, a small rebellion in my chest. But Nola’s words rang in my mind and steadied my soul.Not our fight.

Lisbeth was my fight, my reason for being here. I had my coven now and a chance at answers. The rest was just noise.

We walked on in a stony silence punctuated by bursts of violent commotion from the streets: panicked shouts, the hungry snarls of garm, and the cruel taunts from red-hooded warlocks. I drank from my canteen sparingly, the air cooler so high off the ground with the breeze blowing up off the ice. At times it was almost too cold.

We caught up with Talia’s coven when we reached the end of the district. Blue bartered assisting them down for drink. She needed to replenish her energy before casting the spell that would create our exit. The sisters steeped tea for her that Nola warmed with red magic until it steamed.

We sat and she drank, the quiet lingering between us, heavy and miserable.

Blue readied her forked wand, aiming her magic at the base of the ice, and the wall sloped into a steep slide we could all safely glide down on our backsides. It dumped us into the wooded park. We separated from Talia’s coven; smaller groups made less noise and were safer. We hiked through linden trees, past the gravel beach and jutting caves, around the black lake, back into the heart of Wulfram.

The library and the clock tower were in our sights. Last night we had agreed we would all attempt Alwin’s trial to increase our chances at claiming the hexen relic. But now Liesel was noticeably uncomfortable, chattering on about nothing, shuffling her feet when we stopped to rest, unable to be still. Although Alwin was not the most fearsome of gods, I understood her worry.

“It wouldn’t be the worst idea,” I told Emma, “if the two of you headed for the train directly. Someone should ensure the barrier opens to us, just in case a god has decided to occupy the throne room and demand a tribute. You could offer one on behalf of our coven and ease the way for us in case we’re in a hurry.”

Emma latched on to the idea. “I have a pendant with blessed blood inside it. I’ve been holding on to it for the next time we needed a gift.” Such treasures were used by families to honor the gods in many provinces.

“That’ll do nicely,” I said. I growled at Lisbeth in my head for making me this way. It was a waste, sending them off. The more who attempted the trial, the greater our chances were that we’d succeed.

Nola rolled her eyes at me and muttered something incoherent about “softhearted witches,” but she didn’t openly protest the idea. Blue pointed out that we only needed one person to prepare our way, but Ruchel agreed to allow it. The sisters never separated. It was a waste of breath to argue otherwise.

Emma accompanied Liesel back to the train. The rest of us headed inside the crowded library atrium. A small market gathered there.

Bram’s ability to be three steps ahead showed itself once more. Black-clad Guardians behaved as though they’d been expecting us to arrive, waving us over. One of them was the green warlock I’d met the first time I’d visited their leader. There was a small nick on his neck from my blade, the mark scabbing over.

The warlock glared at me but was helpful despite his broody demeanor.

We were guided to an alcove that hid a set of stairs behind a false bookshelf. The stone steps were lit with metal torches, and the walls were covered in etchings similar to the ones found in the clock tower, with Death’s crow and his broken wing, the falling feathers transforming into reapers.

---