Page 4 of Catastrophe

“This was the library?” Baelen asked as he picked up one of the hundreds of books scattered on the floor and flicked through the pages. “It looks like someone tried to hide all the knowledge by destroying it.”

I tilted my head. I hadn’t considered the witches doing it themselves. I just assumed the hunters did it.

He crouched to show me. “The ink has run as though the words have fallen out of the pages,” he explained, flicking through the pages. “It's more likely the witches did this to protect their history and secrets from people who would use it against them.”

It hurt my heart to think about all that knowledge lost, but I hoped they had a place for the words to run off to. If that was possible.

Baelen closed the book and sighed as he stood. “I don’t think we’ll find anything in here to tell us what happened to Charlie. It’s too messy. And I can’t see any blood threads, so he’s not here under a pile of books.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be disappointed that he wasn’t here or relieved. I suppose being crushed to death by books would be a huge betrayal.

Baelen assured me there were no visible blood threads to indicate that anyone was in the building before we left the main house and started back down the hill.

But he halted in his tracks, turned in the opposite direction, and whispered, “There’s a thread.”

A person? Charlie? My heartbeat raced anew.

“They aren’t moving, so perhaps they are asleep or unconscious.” He looked down at me. “Do you know what’s there?”

I did. The ward shed was in that direction. Karin had encouraged me to pour power into the wards so they had extra magic to protect us, but it obviously didn’t work.

I meowed and started running in the direction, hoping whoever we found was friendly and could give us answers about how this happened and where I might find my witch and soul pair. Maybe they could also shine a light on how the wards failed.

“Clawdia,” Baelen hissed, and I stopped at his tone, tilting my head in a questioning way. “We don’t know if it’s a hunter. Don’t run away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. If it is a hunter, they won’t suspect a cat. But he had a point. I calmed my enthusiasm and trotted at his side.

But as we approached, my stomach tightened at the feel of residual power in the air. The small shed that held the connection to the wards was gone, and in its place lay the boards, windows, and roof in a crumpled pile over what I knew to be the salt pentagram and candles.

Someone is under that?

I looked up at Baelen, who stooped to clear the wreckage.

I guess so.

With renewed hope in my heart, I began helping my soul mate, pulling the broken wood between my teeth. I wasn’t as useful as Baelen, who could toss large fragments of the shed in another direction quickly and easily, but I couldn’t stay still and wait.

“Clawdia.” Baelen called as I was dragging my wood into the side pile I was creating. I immediately dropped my wood and clambered over the wreckage to get to him. The sickly iron scent of blood mixed with salt turned my stomach.

Blond hair. He’d revealed a head and blond hair.

Charlie’s hair? I remember it being darker, but it could be his hair.

Jittery with equal hope and fear, I meowed, urging Baelen to continue digging. He lifted me and swung me onto his back so I could perch on his shoulders, out of his way. But as he moved the wooden wall over the person, they let out a groan. A feminine moan.

My heart sank, and I closed my eyes. Not Charlie.

Baelen carefully tossed the wall off the person and revealed …

Elizabeth?

CHAPTER 2

BAELEN

Charlie’s birth mother bore the wounds of a lost battle. As I pulled the broken wood off her body, her eyes flashed open, her brow furrowed, and a low moan escaped her. Yet when I lifted her to her feet, she said nothing.

Standing on wobbly legs, a surprising amount of fury poured off her in waves. She clenched her red, raw fists and gritted her teeth as she hobbled clear of the wreckage.

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