Page 116 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

A swirl of blue and gold magic lit up the room, and I jumped back.

“What is that?” Margaret asked in awe.

I had no fucking idea. The magic dissipated, leaving a man with blue hair and golden skin standing there.

“Ambrose!” Fiona said.

My eyebrows shot up. This was Ambrose? The Ambrose?

He stepped forward, brows furrowed. “Enid is in trouble.”

My blood turned to ice. “What?”

“I saw it. The humans have her surrounded, and she needs help.”

“Why didn’t you do something?” My hands curled to fists.

Sadness flashed in Ambrose’s eyes. “I can’t. Those people can’t see me, and that means I can’t touch them, can’t inflict pain on them,” he gritted out.

I looked up at the ceiling. This just kept getting worse. “Fuck.”

Fiona whispered, “Aunt Harriet says that’s a bad word.”

“We can’t get to her in time. We’ll try.” I would do everything in my power. “But it’s going to take time to cross the bog and find them.”

“Why don’t we just use one of his portals?” Fiona asked. “It looks fun.”

My head snapped in her direction, and a terrifying smile curved Ambrose’s lips. “She’s smart, that little girl,” he said.

“We can do that?” I asked, a flicker of hope appearing. “We can use your portal?”

“If you can see me, I don’t see why not,” Ambrose said. “But you, a vine, and a little girl aren’t exactly the kind of army you’re going to need.”

“Then I’ll bring more,” I said, nodding at Margaret.

“I’m on it,” Margaret said, and Ambrose jumped in surprise. “Just give me five minutes.” She dashed out of the painting.

“I’ve never seen that before.” Ambrose stroked his clean-shaven jaw. “Will she really be back in five minutes?”

“If there is anyone in this castle who can spread word about Enid, it’s Margaret.”

“And they’ll come?” Ambrose asked, and I could’ve sworn I heard hope in his voice too.

“They’ll come.”

CHAPTER 47

Enid

“Kill her already!” a woman shouted from the back of the crowd.

I struggled against my bindings, strapped to a tree and completely defenseless. I’d tried to break through the townspeople surrounding me and run, but it had been futile, and now I was trapped and likely about to die.

If I saw Vine again, I would have a strong word with it about taking my magic like that.

“Oh, I intend to kill her.” Bald Man stood in front of me and jabbed his pitchfork at my stomach. I winced at the sharp pricks of pain. “But not before we get information out of her.”

I spit in his face. The sticky wad hit him in the eyes, and he raised his hands to shield himself a second too late.