Page 142 of Sword & Sacrifice

Penn watched him carefully, impressed and a little concerned about his acting abilities.

“Not Everett,” Griselda growled. “Em made sure to chase the bastard off with his tail between his legs.”

Adelaide’s hands froze with her cup raised in mid-air. “You met Everett?” she asked, her voice tight as she turned to her daughter.

“Yes,” Emmaline admitted, looking down at her cup. “He was … well, you were right, Mama. We’re much happier without him.”

Quiet fell across the group at the assertion, knowing how Emmaline’s heart was broken to discover the truth about her father.

Silas cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “There is something important I’d like to announce before we begin sharing gory stories.” His hands clenched tight around his mug of hot chocolate and he took a deep breath. But when he looked at Archer, a radiant smile spread across his face. “Archer and I are getting married.”

Joyous exclamations spread through the group. Penn got up to hug both Archer and Silas and congratulate them in turn.

“When’s the wedding?” Emmaline demanded, bouncing on her feet with excitement.

“Not for a few years,” Silas explained with a laugh. “We want things to calm down a bit first.”

Penn sat back down and rested his head on Valerian’s shoulder. Val grabbed Penn’s hand and entangled their fingers together, then pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Watching his friends discuss their future settled a long-held restlessness inside him. Look at how much we’ve survived. Kidnappings, curses, war, and mad mages. Some of them had more scars and fewer memories, but they’d survived and thrived through it all.

Whatever future hardships they faced, they would conquer them together.

Chapter One

Tears stung Emmaline’s eyes as she stumbled through the dark manor. Causley Estate looked so beautiful during the day, with plush furniture and color-themed rooms. Now, with only a few lanterns lighting her path, the shadows transformed the house into a maze. All that guided her was her mother’s firm hand on her arm.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind them, accompanied by harsh curses as Niall hunted them through the halls.

Mama yanked Emmaline around corner after corner, until she would have been hopelessly lost even if she’d lived in the house her whole life. Niall’s cursing hinted at his location and how far he trailed behind them. When his voice faded, Mama stopped to check the closest door.

The knob turned easily under her hand, and she dragged Emmaline inside, closing the door with a soft click. None of the ambient light from the hallway reached the room, and the storm clouds outside blotted out any moonlight. They waited in the pitch dark, breath held, listening for any signs that Niall had found their hiding spot.

After a few minutes, an out of breath voice passed them, still muttering about bitches and witches.

Once he moved on, Mama whispered, “Find a window.”

Emmaline slowly walked through the room, one hand held out low in front of her, the other to her side. Her fingers brushed against the back of a chair and she side-stepped it, only to knock her shin against a low table. She hissed in a soft breath and bit her lip.

After two more close calls with the furniture, she finally brushed her hands against cool glass. “Here, Mama,” she whispered, hoping her mother heard her from all the way across the room. Emmaline traced the square panels, feeling around the edges until she found the lock. “I’ve got it open.”

Her mother’s soft hand landed on her shoulder. “Find somewhere to hide. When dawn comes, go to Litus. Tell Archer and Silas what happened,” Mama instructed, her voice low and urgent.

Emmaline started shaking her head before her mother finished speaking. “I’m not leaving without you and Penn!”

“My star,” her mother sighed. “I love you. I need to know you’re safe.”

The words ‘I can help’ froze on Emmaline’s tongue. She knew they’d be a lie. She wasn’t a mage, a warrior, or even a fully trained medic. What help could she offer? If she stayed to argue, they would both be captured. With one last forlorn look at her mother’s silhouette, Emmaline climbed through the window and dropped down below the ledge.

The air still smelled like the storm that had kept them at the estate for the night, electrical and earthy. She inhaled deeply as she tried to orient herself, to determine which side of the manor she was on, and what path would lead her to safety.

A door slammed behind her, loud and clear through the open window. “There you are!”

Emmaline plastered herself against the side of the house and clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her breathing.

Her mother’s voice rose to issue a warning: “One step closer, and I’ll show you why people fear the Witch.”

The air crackled around Emmaline and her hair slowly floated up around her. Most people knew her mother as a kind-hearted healer. They never saw the destructive storms she summoned to protect her loved ones. Even Emmaline had only seen them a few times, like when men came to their cottage to take Silas away. She had some vague memories of frequent, violent storms when she was little—watching the rainbow-colored lightning streak across the sky, falling asleep to the soothing rumble of thunder—but she never learned why her mother had created them.

“I’ll slit your throat and feed you to your own storm!”