Page 42 of Tanglewood Magic (The Three Sisters 2)
“How nice of you to come,” Zelaria said. Circe whirled to find the witch striding into the garden, wand raised. She was flanked by six guards who spread out and surrounded them. “I knew if I waited long enough, you’d come for this damned tree. I never understood what it meant to the three of you, but I knew there was something.” She narrowed her eyes as her gaze locked on Medea. “Well, well, well. Isn’t this a surprise? You’re supposed to be dead.”
Circe bristled. Rhys squeezed her hand. He was still holding it. Still comforting her. Why? Why, when he planned to leave her?
“Turns out I’m harder to kill than most,” Medea quipped.
“I’ve never shied away from a challenge.” Zelaria raised her wand.
“Before you do, just answer me this, Zelaria,” Medea said. She toyed with the gem at her neck. Circe saw it then, a fine line like a needle drawing through the ward in front of her, attached to a silver thread as thin as a spiderweb. While Medea distracted Zelaria, she was using her gift for charms to slowly dismantle the wards around them. But it had to be painstakingly slow or Zelaria would notice. “Why did you do it? What did I ever do to you?”
The older woman scoffed. “What did you do? You stole my birthright! You stole my future. You and thatdragonused your cursed magic tochange the outcome of the Sacred Lots for your own gain. Everyone knows it.”
Rhys squeezed Circe’s hand again and, with the slightest incline of his head, gestured toward the wards. What did he expect her to do? She was never good at dismantling wards, and Medea was on it anyway.
Then it came to her. Wards. Rhys had mentioned they were commonly designed for people, not animals. She hadn’t used that piece of advice to get into Paragon because she needed to keep herself whole to transform him and Isis back. But if he was right… She reached for Isis’s hand.
Can you veil Rhys in shadow?
Her sister’s eyes flashed red, and darkness gathered around her ankles.
“As much as you may want to believe that I tampered with the Sacred Lots, I didn’t,” Medea snapped. Her magic finished its side-to-side ascent through the ward, beginning a downward plunge. Her magic needle formed a grid. One pull of that magical string and the ward would shatter. A little more time.
“Everything would have been so simple if you and your spawn had just died when I poisoned you. We could have blamed Paragon, and I could have ruled without further incident. But no, your sister and her apothecary had to go and cure you. That’s when I had to get Eleanor involved. Oh, all she wanted was Tavyss dead, and since I wanted you dead, the plan came together nicely. You will go down in history as a monster, and I have taken my place as rightful queen.”
The shadows had wrapped around Rhys until he was nothing but a silhouette behind her. She did her best to block him with her body.
“The only monster here is you,” Medea said. “You’re a murderer.”
Circe gripped her wand, still inside her sleeve, and she pointed the tip at Rhys.
“What are you doing there?” Zelaria seethed, finally noticing Isis’s shadows. “It won’t work. The wards are made to prevent you from traveling, even by shadow.”
“Metamorfóno,”Circe whispered.
Rhys spiraled and dissolved, leaving behind a pile of his clothing.
“What is this? Where’d he go?” Zelaria yelled. “Guards! Now! Execute them.” She twirled her wand but never got a chance to release her spell. Rhys, in the form of a rat, leaped onto her face, dug his claws in, and sank his teeth into her hand. She screamed and dropped her wand, flailing her arms in an attempt to get the massive rat off her.
Medea yanked the string of her charm as more spells flew from the surrounding guards. The ward around them shattered. Glowing brighter than a star, Medea stepped forward, wand raised. The grimoire pulse with power at her throat.
Circe, protect Rhys!Isis screamed down their psychic connection.
Blinded by Medea’s light, Circe threw herself in Rhys’s direction, her fingers sinking into his fur as Medea’s spell began to burn. Shadows drew them both back, wrapped around them, sheltered them.
“Now!” Isis screamed.
Through a cocoon of swirling shadow, Circe watched a pulse of pure celestial power flow out from her sister. Every tree in the garden flattened to the ground, burned to a crisp. Zelaria screamed, her skin blackening as she toppled. The guards did the same. One managed a shield, but it shattered in seconds. He crumpled, leveled to the dirt like everything else. Even Isis’s shadows were tearing apart under the force of Medea’s will and the power of the book. Circe sheltered Rhys with her body the best she could.
“Medea!” Isis screamed. “Stop! It’s done.”
Medea turned to face them. Her entire body trembled with power. Her eyes were entirely black and glowing with strange otherworldly energy. Was she even in there anymore?
“Medea, please!” Isis begged as another of her shadows turned to ash. “Circe, help. I don’t think she can hear me.”
Circe raised her wand and pointed it at her sister, Isis’s shadow’s parting for her. “Metamorfóno!”she screamed, panting with the effort as the spell locked on Medea and warred with the deadly fire she was putting off. Tongues of purple lashed at her, but Circe hung on.
At last, Medea twirled in her robes and disappeared. A narwit crawled from the elfin fabric, wiggling its ears. Medea’s deadly magic settled like shattered stars around them, its twinkling residue sinking harmlessly into the scorched earth.
Isis dropped her shadow shield, openly weeping by Circe’s side. She was spent. It had taken all of Isis’s power to hold off Medea’s magic. When Medea had unleashed the book in anger, she’d unleashed something dark within herself. Something ancient and feral. A few seconds more and it would have torn them both to shreds.
