Page 43 of Tanglewood Legacy (The Three Sisters 3)
“Me too,” Circe said.
Medea leaned back in her chair and released a heavy sigh. “There’s only one problem with this plan. The governor cannot release Circe if she’s not in that cell.”
Rhys shook his head. “Medea’s right. It’s a terrible plan. You can’t be away from Endora that long, Circe.”
All of Isis’s hopes and dreams for a better life went up in smoke as she realized they were right. Circe couldn’t go back. She was breastfeeding, and Endora was so young. She needed her mother. Isis stared at the rug under her feet. They’d have to move on. It was their only option.
“I’ll just have to go in your place,” Medea said, folding her arms.
Everyone’s eyes snapped to her sister, whose mouth had drawn into a severe line. There was a long moment of silence Isis could only ascribe to all of them trying to make sense of what she just said.
“Medea…no,” Circe said softly.
“Why?” Medea stood and, circling her wand above her head, transformed into Circe’s twin, complete with bloody red dress. “You may be the best at transformation, Circe, but you are not the only witch capable of it. I have no baby or husband. And if the worst happens—”
Isis popped out of her chair. “You can’t go through with this, Medea. They could burn you at the stake!”
“They could tie me to a stake.” Medea walked to one of the candelabras that lit the dim room and stuck her hand into a flame. “They cannot burn me.”
Beside her, Pierre swallowed so hard Isis could hear it. “Why isn’t she burning? Are you all impervious to fire as well?”
“No, just Medea,” Isis explained. “She was once mated to a dragon, and when she carried his young, her blood was infused with dragon’s blood. Dragons can’t burn.”
Medea waved her fingers inside the flame. “Completely invulnerable to it.”
“Still… Medea…” A tear ran down Circe’s cheek. “It’s not fair to you.”
Isis thought her heart might break, thinking about the sacrifice Medea was offering to make. It was too much. She searched for the right words to say, but her mind kept struggling with the inevitable lack of other options.
Removing her hand from the fire, Medea took a deep breath. “You all think this is a selfless act on my part, but you forget, one of you will birth the three sisters who will take my revenge on Eleanor.” She pressed a hand into her chest. “The book and the key I hid in Ouros await the day that your progeny will end her reign. Your lives are more important to me than my own.”
“We love you, Medea. Your life is just as important to us,” Circe sobbed.
“Circe is right,” Isis added. “You’re wrong to think your life is less important.”
Medea gave a shallow smile. “I don’t fear death, sisters. Death is where my love and my son live, and I fully plan to go there one day. Now, this is my choice. Isis, you will have to return me to the prison. Are you strong enough?”
Tired, she may be, but if Medea could do this for Circe, Isis would find the strength to carry Medea. “Give me a moment, and I will be.”
ChapterTwenty-One
“You have the wrong person,” Pierre insisted, beseeching Étienne. “Circe was with Isis and me most of the evening. She is most certainly not a witch.”
“She had blood all over her, Pierre. She was caught in the act.”
“Blakemore’s servant can explain everything. The dying woman stumbled into her and died in her arms. She was trying to help her!”
“A likely story, but Delphine Devereaux claims Circe previously tried to poison her. She even provided me with the elixir. Delphine claims she suspected the witch, and so she never drank it.” Étienne produced a basket from a cabinet behind him, and Pierre stiffened when he saw Isis’s handwriting on a card hanging from the handle, signed from Tanglewood Plantation. Inside was a stale loaf of bread, some soaps, and a blue bottle of elixir. “We tested the elixir on a rat one of the soldiers caught. It died within the hour.”
Pierre shook his head. “There must be some mistake.”
Étienne frowned. “You’re soon to be married, Pierre, and anyone in your situation would defend his betrothed’s family, but on this, take my advice. Distance yourself and your bride. Circe is to be tried today, and Louis Congo has been fetched to burn her at the stake tomorrow. The people are demanding it. The square is buzzing with talk of going out to that plantation of theirs to sanctify the grounds. They think it’s the seat of her magic.”
“Excuse me?” Pierre didn’t understand. They had Circe. Why did anyone need to go to the plantation?
“The basket and the poison came from the plantation, not Circe herself. Some of the men claim that a witch can attach her soul to things she’s touched. They’ve got a priest, and they plan to cleanse the plantation with fire and holy water. I tried to dissuade them, but you know how these things can get out of hand. Word is they’re heading there today. My advice to you stands. Take your bride and distance yourselves.”
Oh no! Isis was there, at the plantation. What if the mob took one look at Tanglewood and decided they were all witches? Pierre burst from his chair and strode toward the door. “Mon Dieu, we have to stop this.”
