Page 63 of A Touch of Shadows
Wren cried out as the magic she’d been building around herself fell away to nothing. Released from Elodie’s grip, she fell back to Finn, still trying to protect him. Even if all she had now was her own naked body.
Elodie took an ominous step towards her, but her voice was tinged with regret now and didn’t sound quite so terrible.
‘I don’t make a habit of murdering faithless knights, more’s the pity. Or any great number of Ilanthian princes either, despite my reputation. Just the one and, honestly, he did that himself to spite me. Now get dressed, Wren. We have to go.’
Elodie hadn’t been talking about Finn’s life when she had said she’d make it quick, Wren realised with something akin to relief, but about her hair. Now it swung about her face, no further than the line of her jaw. And the magic it had let her control was gone.
She still didn’t move. Not until she had answers. ‘What have you done to him?’
‘It’s just a sleeping powder. He’s fine. He’ll wake up with a headache, that’s all.’
The tightness in her chest eased a little. A sleeping powder. Nothing permanent.
‘We can’t just leave him here like this.’
Elodie picked up some clothes from the cupboard without even looking at them and threw them at Wren. ‘I assure you, we can and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.’
‘But they’ll find him here. They’ll blame him.’
‘I rather think that’s his problem, don’t you? I won’t tell you again, Wren. Get some clothes on and come with me. It’s too dangerous to be here. We need to get back into the forest as quickly as possible. Where it’s safe.’
Safe. That was a joke.
‘The forest is crawling with Ilanthians,’ she told Elodie, but the hedge witch just gave another dismissive snort.
‘Correction. It was crawling with Ilanthians. Between the knights bumbling around and my own efforts there are significantly fewer of them. The forest and I have a longstanding arrangement. They run fast when startled. If they’re lucky.’
That was sobering. What had Elodie done? Her magic was powerful, and the forest constantly bent to her will. Wren only knew half of what Elodie could do. If that.
And if Elodie was really the queen of Asteroth, perhaps Wren didn’t know her at all…
‘And Leander?’ Wren asked. Part of her dreaded hearing the answer, no matter what it was. He’d been… right up until he’d turned on her, he’d been… charming. She shook her head, trying to clear the muffled feeling that settled on her when she thought of him.
‘They really got their claws into you, didn’t they? That family.’ She turned such a look of pity on Wren that she shrank back in shame. ‘Great light, Wren, didn’t you listen to anything I ever said? Ilanthians are witchhunters, all of them. Their princes are the worst of them. They will do anything to trap you, anything.’ She cast a scathing glance at Finn. ‘Now, are you finished? Come on.’
Wren pulled on Finn’s clothes. Right now she didn’t have a lot of choice and it was going to be more practical than any of the gowns. Barefoot would have to do. She tightened the belt around her waist and looked up defiantly at Elodie.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I already told you. Back to the forest and then far away from here.’
‘But you told me to go to the Seven Sisters.’
Elodie paused in gathering her magic like strands of gossamer. She stared at Wren.
‘When?’
‘In the book.’
Elodie threw her head back in frustration. ‘What bloody book, Wren? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Wren grabbed it from the bedside table and thrust it at her. ‘Your diary. This book.’
Elodie froze, staring at it. Then she snatched it out of Wren’s hand. ‘Where did you get this?’
Someone knocked on the door and a concerned voice sounded. ‘Princess? Are you quite well?’
Elodie let out a string of curses and, shoving the book into the pouch at her belt, grabbed Wren’s wrist. Her grip was like iron and she hauled her to the window. The knocking became a banging, the careful inquiries shouts of alarm.