Page 94 of The Coven of Ruin
The mountain witch met Trista’s eyes again as she picked up her blade. “I am the sword. The protector. Ihaveto do this.” A genuine smile came to her full lips as she swung the sword in a low arc and stepped into the night. Rounding the mouth of the cave, she disappeared beyond its edge.
“Zyana,” Trista hissed desperately, but she was already gone.
Heartbeats passed, and Trista wondered if she had somehow already been caught or seen. Tears blurred her vision, but she furiously wiped them away.
That is when radiant, ashy blue light illuminated the field. Cries of alarm and commands rose from the mages.
Footsteps echoed from behind her. Trista rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, her grip tightening on the stolen dagger. She looked back into the cave with a quick glance to ensure they were not yet on her. As the mages cleared the field before her, running toward the source of resplendent magic, Zyana let out a triumphant and defiant roar.
“Long Live the Triune!”
Pushing herself out of the cave, she ran.
Long Live the Triune.
Chapter XLI
SheranforZyana,not even stopping when her lungs burned and sharp, deep jabs panged in her sides. She didn’t stop when her legs protested, nor when they went numb. The trees loomed ahead, nearing with every step. If she could just reach the tree line…
But sheknew. She knew they would hunt her down. The trees only held so much safety. She wouldn’t be able to rest until she had Demurielle, and they could find somewhere safe. The hopelessness of the situation threatened to weigh her down.
And still she ran.
The glow from Zyana’s final stand stuttered, dimmed, and then died. Trista didn’t slow her pace even as pieces of herself crumbled.Zyana.The mountain witch who hadn’t wanted to go to the capital in the first place. The witch who had let her and Dem break down all the walls she built around herself. Fiercely loyal and honorable. Overly protective and brave.
And she wasgone.
Her magic had lit the clearing, but now that it was gone, it was pitched back into ominous darkness. Trista couldn’t help but feel the same was happening within her.
She proceeded blindly until her vision adjusted. When it did, she swore she saw a shadow moving against the trees. If he had come back, if he had found her…
Gathering her magic around her, she pushed herself forward still.
She was three-hundred steps away from the forest when she felt an unfamiliar magic stir, inquisitive and elusive.
Two-hundred steps and an otherworldly growl sounded in the distance, shaking the earth.
At one-hundred steps away, a shadow moved toward her, speaking with a familiar voice that had once made her feel safe. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”
Kace.
She skidded to a halt, heart pounding, chest burning. Kace stood in the depths of the looming trees, but when he took another step toward her, she saw he wasn’t alone. Vaunt strolled alongside him, twirling a knife casually.
Moonlight cut a path across the features of her childhood friend. Nothing. Nothing of the mage she had once known and loved was left in him. He was filled with only darkness, and it poured from him in such waves she could almost see it.
“Something told me I needed to be out here tonight,” Kace stated.
Curls stuck to her neck, and her mouth was dry, her tongue thick. Every part of her ached—her heaving lungs, her shattered heart, her exhausted legs. Gods, she was tired. They took another step toward her, and she took another step closer to the trees.
“You want to know what they call you?” Kace questioned, his lip lifting into a sneer.
She used to find his voice soothing. Now it was caustic, full of resentment.
When she didn’t answer, he resumed, “A traitor.”
“And a god’s whore,” Vaunt supplied, his oily tone matching his greasy appearance.
“They said you were conspiring with the Cursebringer. That he used you for your magic and…” His eyes scanned down her form, “other things.”
