Page 182 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘But before that,’ Elowen added, ‘what do we do about the child?’
Rio felt both of her friends turn towards a smaller presence lingering not far from their group.
Though she could not see the child’s face, she turned her full attention upon him all the same.
‘I think I have an idea,’ she said.
Rowan snorted.
Elowen sighed.
The Fae lands, the witchlands, and the wyverian territories all share a similar climate. Grey clouds stretch endlessly above us. In the east, the winds howl across the land while in the west, the air softens, becoming warmer. Once, they were not divided. These lands were originally mine. Hades came later, carving out a portion for himself and shaping it into the wyverian lands. He delights in claiming otherwise. That he was first, that his creations came before mine. But I know the truth of it, as deeply as I know my own name. And then there was Persephone. She was always jealous of me. She stole from my lands as though they were hers to claim, and from that theft she fashioned the Fae. She named them the most beautiful of all. And though I loathe to admit it, though it burns like poison in my veins…
She is not entirely wrong.
Tabitha Wysteria
The witches brought the march to a halt deep within the jungle they had entered a day earlier. The air there was thick with humidity, clinging to the skin like a damp shroud. Ylva had spent most of the day leaning against the carriage window she shared with Hagan, staring out through the tangled green while dreaming longingly of a cool, clear pool in which she might sink and disappear.
Her pale silver hair clung stubbornly to her forehead, damp with sweat. No matter how often she wiped her brow, the moisture returned, relentless beneath the suffocating heat.
Hagan had not spoken to her since their last conversation. When the company stopped for the night, he simply ordered one of the witches to tie Ylva up, never once sparing her a glance.
Ylva found she did not particularly mind.
She was, however, pleased when she was secured to a tree and soon after saw Arden dragged forward and bound to the one directly opposite her. A small smile crept onto her face as he was shoved roughly onto the ground and tied in place.
The moment he noticed her, his expression brightened.
‘Well hello, little wolf,’ he said with an easy grin. ‘You just can’t keep away, can you?’
‘It seems so.’
Ylva stretched her legs carefully. They ached from the long hours spent cramped inside the carriage, where she had been forced to sit rigidly, doing everything in her power to keep as much distance as possible between herself and Hagan.
The witches raised their camp within minutes. With quiet murmurs of magic they conjured dark tents from the air itself and summoned eerie green fires that flickered softly through the clearing—meant for light rather than warmth. In this part of the jungle the air never cooled; the night carried the same heavy heat as the day.
Bound to their trees, Ylva and Arden watched as the witches finished their work and gradually settled for the evening. Soon the clearing filled with low voices and shifting shadows, and for a moment it almost seemed as though the prisoners had been forgotten entirely.
Ylva found herself alone in her thoughts and alone with Arden.
‘Arden…’ She cleared her throat, suddenly uneasy with the thought that had crept into her mind. ‘The other prisoners… there are none left. Just us. What do you think that means?’
‘Don’t,’ Arden said quickly. ‘Don’t do that. If you start asking those sorts of questions, it will only torture you.’
‘Then what are we meant to do?’ Ylva struggled against the unseen magic that bound her to the tree, panic tightening her voice. ‘Can you do something with your magic?’
‘I can’t use it to break these ties,’ Arden replied. ‘Fae magic isn’t destructive like witch magic. It was never meant for that. It’s meant to heal… to shape beauty… to make the world gentler. We need a plan.’
‘How far do you think we are from Velunthar?’
‘Not far,’ Arden said.
‘Then perhaps the Fae will help us when they—’
‘When they what?’ Arden snorted softly. ‘I wouldn’t count on the Fae to rescue us, little wolf. They’ll be far too busy fighting the witches. If we want to survive this, we’ll have to find a way to save ourselves.’
Ylva nodded slowly.
