Page 79 of Pirate Witch
Shit. What have I done?
I quickly backtrack. “Well, there’s that, or you could just wait for him to realise how badly he’s messed up and enjoy his grovelling. That way, you don’t have to get cold climbing the mast again.”
Val glowers at me, but I shrug. He should be grateful that I’m trying to help him.
“I have to lead the fleet,” he grunts, grinding his teeth in displeasure. “Keep them safe…” He looks at our witch, defenceless in the centre of the web behind us. “All of them.”
I nod. “I won’t let anyone touch her.” A glimmer of indecision flickers across his features as he glances back at Nilsa a second time. “Go. We don’t have enough ships on our side for you to sit this one out. Are you sure you don’t want one of the twins to go with—”
“No. She needs them more than I do. Stick to the plan. They can come and deal with whoever is leftover when Coveton is safe.”
He closes his eyes, runs a hand through his hair and nods. In seconds, a transmutation circle flickers to life beneath him, and he disappears entirely.
Opal’s distraction quickly wears off as the sound of marching feet begins to fill the air. More yells, this time organised rather than panicked, fill the area, and it’s not long before we catch sight of the first uniformed soldiers marching toward us. They form a line with regimented discipline until they’re surrounding the shield entirely. Commanding officers yell out orders, and they level their muskets at the group of us.
Behind the humans, mages start to appear in flashes of light, using the mortals as a shield as they take up their positions.
“By order of Her Gracious Majesty Queen Catherine, Eagle of Galmere, divinely appointed ruler of mortals,” Everett begins, striding out into the open with a leer on his face. “The witches of Coveton are hereby sentenced to death for treason against the crown. Anyone found aiding these women will be considered their accomplices, and will share their fate. If you surrender peacefully, we have been ordered to make your deaths merciful.”
Behind me, Nos snorts, but the sound is lost beneath the drumbeats.
“The daughters of the Goddesses no longer recognise Catherine as the rightful ruler of mortals,” the high priestess who first greeted Danika announces. “I, Mother Solar Rachel of Coveton, and every other high priestess of this world, hereby peacefully refuse to comply with your requests. The Solars will defend ourselves, and our Lunar counterparts, to our last breaths.”
Everett Castleman actually laughs, until he catches sight of someone in the crowd, and that smile falls from his face. It’s replaced by a dark, twisted kind of anger that I imagine makes lesser men quail. I twist my body, trying to see who could have that kind of effect on the proud man.
Cooper.
“Release my son, witch. Holding hostages is beneath you.”
The teenager looks up, glances at his sunshine-haired witch, before turning to face his father. With a deep breath, he shakes his head. “I’m not a hostage. I chose to be here.”
Everett glowers at him. The humiliation this is causing the mage high councilman is visible in the horrible puce colour his face has begun to turn. The man is three seconds away from a full meltdown, and from the way Cooper is shaking, it’s not uncommon.
Bastard. What kind of man makes his child afraid of him?
Evidently, the same kind of man who, when he’s regained his ability to speak, calmly orders his army to fire on a group of peaceful Solars and his own flesh and blood.
“Destroy them. And when that shield comes down, bring my impudent boy to me,” he hisses.
The mage turns on his heel, refusing to watch as the first round of musket fire hits the golden shield, followed by a burst of mage fire.
The fight has begun. Now, whether we survive is wholly dependent on if the Solars can hold that shield long enough for the Lunars to destroy that fort.
Because otherwise, we’re outnumbered a hundred to one.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
NILSA
Trance is not my strongest subject. Most Lunars struggle with it, and I’m no exception. It’s all I can do to follow along with the others as we guide the beam of destructive moonlight we’ve created through the night sky. I have no idea if we’re even going in the right direction. I can only hope someone here is actively steering us towards Fort Sole.
While my consciousness is separate from my body like this, it’s easy for my thoughts to wander. The difficult part of trance is holding your focus in one place, rather than following every stray thought. Even though I’m not in my body, I can feel my head start to pound. The strain will only get worse the longer this goes on for, and I’m not looking forward to it.
Goddess, if my athame wasn’t one of the ones in the centre, responsible for channelling the gathered power, I might be tempted to give up. But I can’t. None of us can. A break in the web could send the whole spell spiralling out of control.
That’s why only the elder witches were initially meant to be a part of this spell. Then Reva insisted on joining in, and I was invited as Shadow… Goddess only knows how Alletta ended up here too. I can feel all of them around me, their energies moving with mine, directing power across the vast sea.
Time is funny in this state. What feels like seconds here could be minutes or hours back at the temple, and that worries me. When we passed over Hardhearth Bay, we saw for ourselves the vast number of ships still sending men to the already crowded shore of Coveton. If our Solar sisters can’t hold the protections around us, we’ll be killed before we even know what’s happening. All we can do is hurry across the deceptively calm waves, carrying the power we raised, and pray that we make it.
