Page 8 of The Crow Games

I liked this Ruchel immediately.

“She’s covered in blood,” the soldier grumbled. Thick fur lining peeped out around the edges of her tall boots. In the northern reaches of the Upper Realm, in a country called Sebrak, the land was colder in the hills and there was an ongoing civil war over limited resources. “We need coven members who can help keep us alive in the coming games. Not witches who require a nurse.”

Neither of them bothered lowering their voices, despite how clearly I could hear them. I picked at the strap of my bag, trying to think what Lisbeth would do. If she were here, she’d already have a whole flock of new allies ready to band together to plot their escape from Death.

“She can’t be that hurt, Nola,” Ruchel said. “She’s walking fine, and she’s the first new witch we’ve seen come out of that hall who didn’t look like they were about to vomit.”

“Perhaps I already vomited,” I offered, tired of being talked about instead of to.

Ruchel grinned at me. Nola scowled fiercely into her glass.

“I’m called Maven,” I said.

“We’re not looking for new friends,” the soldier retorted, cutting Ruchel off.

“Sounds like you are,” I countered. “And I’m not hurt. All this on my clothes—it’s not my blood.”

“See there? She’s fine.” Ruchel extended her slender hand, and I took it. We shook briskly. “I’m Ruchel. I’m a mind witch from an air coven, or I was before I got dumped here. Admittedly, most of my divination abilities are best suited to academia, but I have unnatural instincts. I’ll use them to keep you alive so long as you listen to me out there during the trials.”

Out where? What trials? I wanted to ask, but my mind took off like a shot and began to whirl.

Ruchel nudged Nola’s arm encouragingly.

The soldier rolled her eyes, drained her glass, and plopped it onto the table. “I’m Winola, a witch of none-of-your-business, from a coven of—” She pointed both middle fingers up at me.

I liked her immediately as well. I didn’t need her to like me back to want her help, and she didn’t have to share who she was. The crimson pendant at her collar gave the red witch away.

“What about you?” Ruchel asked me.

“Oh?” I rubbed a hand down the back of my head, fingering my braid. “Right . . .”

“Coven of origin?” Ruchel prodded. I was slow to respond. Now Nola was staring at me too.

I swallowed. “I don’t have one.”

The soldier snorted dismissively, then returned to her drink, refilling it from the decanter on the table.

“Anymore,” I added briskly. My sister had been my coven. It was an odd witch who didn’t have a proper one.

Ruchel’s ochre eyes softened. “You lost them?”

Absentmindedly, I ran a hand down my blood-soaked shirtwaist. “Garm attack.”

I had to be careful of my words around a mind witch. She’d sense it if I lied to her. But I couldn’t go telling her the full truth of what I was either. Gray witches were feared by all, and Nola was already uncertain of me. Too many gray practitioners had become warlords and murderers and worse with their spirit magic. They’d be convinced I was a villain who’d earned my place here committing horrid atrocities. Sadly, that wasn’t entirely off-base.

On the floor of my old shop with my sister’s corpse cooling in my arms, I nearly had become a villain. If Death hadn’t stopped me, an entire city would now be ash.

“And what’s your specialty?” Nola demanded, looking me over.

“I . . .” Instead of spirit, I wanted to say I practiced green magic, but my limited skills in that area wouldn’t impress these two. “I’ve dabbled in this and that . . . I know some earth spells and some—”

“Throw her back, Ruchel,” Nola groaned. “She’ll be of no use to us.”

“No.” Ruchel’s gaze trained on me so hard I could feel the weight of it. “I sense she’ll be useful.”

“That’s the one I want,” Nola said, loud enough to interrupt the prayers of the witch in the corner. “We’d still take you with us, Blue, if you’d stop being so pig-headed.”

The blue witch sat forward, releasing her sea pendant so that it clattered against the other baubles draping her neck. Her flinty eyes trained on Ruchel. “I won’t partner with a woman who insists on insulting the divines by wearing the symbol of a dead goddess. We need the blessing of a god to win the games, not their contempt.”

---