Page 19 of Night of the Witch
“—keep safe this home. Protect and—”
The hexenjägers tear toward me.
“Shield and cover, lend your might to this lone daughter!”
I shout the words.
Iscreamthem.
They rip from the center of my being, that tight knot of furytheyplanted there, and my palms grow warm around the vial, burning,burning.
Too hot. Too much. I lurch back, hands opening, and my vial launches out like a ball from a cannon. The glass hits the floor and shatters, spraying the potion up in thick green smoke.
This potion shouldn’tsmoke.
Thicker and thicker—more and more—
The hexenjägers cry out. I can’t see the woman, but when I scramble forward, the density of the spell shoves me back, out of the kitchen, out of the cottage, launching me across the garden.
I slam against the ground, my head striking a garden post, and all goes black.
6
OTTO
Where is she?
I scramble up. Smoke is everywhere. Gagging, my eyes bleary, I try to look around.
“Hilde?” I choke out.
No answer. But a quick scan of the one-room cottage tells me she’s not here. The rest of the hexenjägers are still sprawled on the floor, knocked out. I don’t remotely care about them. I don’t even bother to check if they’re still alive as I race past their inert bodies, launching over the broken chair and upturned table.
Some of this smoke isgreen.
Images scramble in my brain.
Where is my sister?
And also:Who was that?
The back door is wide open. Someone—a young woman—burst into my sister’s cottage and threw something…green smoke? At Hilde. And Hilde’s gone.
She’s…gone.
No. No, no, no,my brain screams. Hildecan’tbe gone. The whole plan will go to shit if—
There. By the garden post. A woman. Hilde?
No.
Theotherone.
I rush, boots thundering across the garden as I race to her form. My mind can’t keep up with my body’s actions, but it feels good to act. The woman doesn’t appear conscious, but I don’t risk it. I throw myself on her, pinning her shoulders to the ground with my knees. She moans, eyelids fluttering, and I flick my hand out, calling for the silver dagger hidden in my sleeve.
I may be the kapitän of the hexenjägers, second-in-command, but I have never, not once, believed that witches were real.
Until now.
