Page 8 of Traitor Witch
What follows is the slightest resistance, a sickening crunch, and the disturbing knowledge that what I hold in my hand isn’t heavy enough to be Felicity’s whole weight.
A glance down confirms what I already know.
The soft, curling locks that my fingers are digging into are still attached to her skull, her eyes frozen open in fright. But her neck is a bleeding mess of destroyed flesh. The wraith’s bite has cleaved her head from her body.
Below me, another of the spectral beasts joins the first. All I can see is red flying across the snow as they gorge on their kill, destroying any hope of recovering the rest of Felicity.
I’m used to death. I see it almost daily and worship its patron Goddess.
This isn’t death.
Death is the peace at the end of a long life. Mercy at the end of suffering. A quick end for the unlucky or a tired last breath for the old.
What these wraiths are doing is desecration. They’re not killing to eat, they’re killing for fun, and it shows in the way they don’t even consume Felicity’s body. They just shred it.
I’ve never seen wraiths in real life before, and this… This will be etched into my nightmares forever.
Horror makes my fingers go slack and I almost drop her head back into the slaughter below. I fumble and catch her again just before she would have fallen, cradling her skull against my chest with one arm as I fly straight back over the wall and towards the Solar Temple.
At least one piece of Felicity deserves to rest in peace.
Unfortunately, I’m not alone when I arrive back.
“Nilsa?” Teresa is at the head of the group. “Where is the Mother Solar?”
I’m so numb I can’t answer as I woodenly dismount my broom.
I don’t know who sees Felicity’s head first, but the scream that echoes over the tower alerts everyone to the fact that something is wrong.
“What did you do to her?” Gabrielle, one of the older Solars, demands, yanking what remains of her High Priestess away from me.
“I didn’t do anything,” I protest. “Her broom malfunctioned, and she went straight over the wall. I tried to save her.”
Annalise scoffs, snatching the broom from my hand. “The Shadow of the Moon trying to save a life? For all we know, you lured her over there and hexed her broom to make it look like an accident.”
“I wouldn’t!” I argue.
They're not going to listen to me.
This can’t be happening. They've never trusted me, but they can’t seriously think I’d dothis? The Solars press forward, the dry heat of their magic making the air crackle.
A boom shakes the top of the tower.
“Nilsa, run!” I know it’s Danika’s voice, but the dark purple smoke that envelops us makes it impossible to see her.
I almost linger. The urge to protest my innocence, to try to make them believe me is overwhelming, but my survival instincts are stronger.
With the threat of magic still in the air, I leap for the edge of the roof, praying that Opal is close enough to take magic from.
My frantic grasping along our familiar bond is answered with a rush of power. I direct all of it at my legs, straight into the agility sigils inked there.
I have no idea if that will be enough to save me as I plummet towards the ground.
I land on my feet and roll, but the wind is still knocked out of me and I lie on the ground for several precious seconds trying to catalogue my injuries.
The icy burn of magic in my limbs softened my landing enough that I haven’t sprained anything, which is good. My body still aches as I push myself to my feet and try to gather my bearings.
I take three steps towards the Lunar Temple, then turn ninety degrees and head for the market instead. The Solars will expect me to take the quickest route to safety. I can outwit them and lose my pursuers in the crowds by the water’s edge.
