Page 99 of The Witch and His Crow

One usually would cringe at the idea of their parents having sex, but the thought of it only warmed me. It told me that they were in love. That even in the darkest of times, they discovered enough light to continue living on.

‘But there is an important detail which you’re missing.’ Arwyn finally took my head, and an exhaled breath left me. Relief, that was what the sound sang with. That finally he was touching me, flesh to flesh. ‘Something that, even in all the different written accounts of the last competition, was agreed on.’

I blinked and a golden star of light birthed in the air above us.

‘Fireflies,’ I exhaled the world as the sky lit up with them.

As soon as the word left my mouth, the dark expanse ignited up with sparks of gold. A constellation of fireflies were born from the dark, glowing as bright as stars, casting our little haven in rich light.

I started laughing, the tears falling down my cheeks whilst joy and sadness melded to one. Reaching up, I brushed my fingers amongst the sea of winking lights, feeling the buzz and warmth of a thousand little creatures.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I said between laughter, watching the bugs dance around my fingers.

Arwyn was silent for a moment before his reply bore through my chest. ‘Yes, Hector. It is.’

I rolled my head to look at him, only to find he was looking at me. He didn’t need to explain himself, but I got the impression that he wasn’t talking about the fireflies at all.

There was a sudden tension between us, something only words could break. I waited for them, watching Arwyn’s mind whirl through his bright blue eyes. Whatever he was thinking about was heavy.

‘I brought you here tonight to ask something of you.’

My heart thundered in my chest. ‘Steady now, Arwyn.’

He ignored the light-hearted nature of my reply, his stare only growing darker. ‘It was after this night that your mother convinced your father to withdraw from the Witch Trials.’

I sat up, fireflies dancing out of my way. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘I want you to withdraw.’

I shook my head, blinking away my confusion. ‘No, Arwyn. I mean… why? I don’t understand.’

‘It’s dangerous,’ he began, which only made me laugh.

‘No shit,’ I barked. ‘You’d think I’d have worked that out by now.’

Arwyn continued to study me. Except this time, his attention didn’t warm my skin. It made it itch. ‘There are things at play here, Hector. Things I don’t think I can protect you from. Those demons…’

I pressed my finger to his mouth, squeezing my eyes closed as if not looking at him would help myself pretend this wasn’t happening. ‘Weren’t you the person who just told me about how I can face the dark better than anyone? I’m not leaving. I’m not giving up. I think my mother knew that there was something wrong about this, and that was why she dismissed my fatherfrom the competition. And then why her dying wish was to keep me hidden from witches. She didn’t want this to happen again.’

‘Her burden is not your burden.’

‘Yes,’ I shouted, fireflies shooting away from me. ‘It is. That is exactly what this is. Because she died before finishing her duty, it is my job as her son to ensure that whatever she wanted, is seen through to the end.’

‘There can only be one Grand High,’ Arwyn said, as if I didn’t already know this. ‘You know what happens in the final Trial. Survival rate is low. Now is the time some can walk away with their lives. Maybe that’s what Romy did. Maybe she saw sense.’

‘Stop, Arwyn. I don’t want to hear this.’

‘And I don’t want you todie.’ The words cut through my universe, striking me to the core. ‘I don’t want you, Hector Briar, to join the list of those who died before you. I can’t have you dying.’

‘I don’t plan to,’ I said, the answer coming to me quickly and with ease.

Hector looked up at me, eyes wide with pleading, lines of worry etched into his face. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to give me another reason to withdraw, waste more breath. But then his eyes shifted from me to something just over my shoulder, and his entire expression shifted.

‘The Dreading.’

I turned, looking over my shoulder, to find the two words hovering in the air at my back. The fireflies had taken formation, spelling out my possible doom. The clue for the next trial. A trial we all knew. A trial that supported Arwyn’s previous statement about low survival rates.

Fear. The Dreading placed its contestants in a maze constructed from nightmares itself. What happened during the trial was not as clearly documented. But what witches knew wasthose who did survive, came out changed. In the Dreading, you died trying or broke surviving.

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