Page 14 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

Sleep hadn’t come easy after seeing Torin, and every time she tossed and turned, she saw his face. He had been cold. Broken. Brutal. Almost gone. But the thing that had kept Emara awake in those miserable hours wasn’t the sadness in his eyes or the bruises on his face, but the glint of softness he had shown before she left. When she had blasted darkness towards him, disbelief had flashed over his face, but his eyes had told a different story to the mask he had strung up for her. The fact that something else other than coldness had lingered there only gave her hope that he—her Torin—was still in there somewhere. He still cared whether he wanted to admit it or not.

But that hadn’t stopped the feeling of her heart being ripped out as she left those underground tunnels. It was just a terrible coincidence that the more her heart broke, the more her darkness feasted on the pain and grew stronger. Even now, as she looked down at the tips of her fingers, tiny wisps of dark air formed around them. She hid her hand underneath the fabric of her airy, mauve skirt.

“Emara?” A voice calling her name pulled her from her own world and back into the room where she sat. “Is that something you should wish to comment on?”

Her head snapped up from her hands, and her gaze flew to the witches that sat in a circle in front of her. The Empresses of Houses Water, Earth, Spirit, and Fire were all staring at her, as were their maids. The secret meeting that was taking place in a small cottage in the Fairlands had been Rya’s idea, and regardless of how much sleep Emara had gotten the night before, it was a must to attend. With no supreme, every elemental empress took their turn to organise a meeting before every full moon.

Lorta gave her a glare that told Emara they had been talking about something important.

She took a breath, trying to steady herself, and released her hands from the material of her summer skirt. “I am sorry, I am not feeling myself today. Headache.” She gave them a small, polite smile. “Can you repeat the question?”

Rya Otterburn of House Fire squared her shoulders, her ruby red dress hanging fashionably from her left shoulder. “We were discussing if we had anything out of the ordinary happening within our magic lately. If anything else in your powers had…emerged?”

Uncontrollable darkness? Emara’s dry and wicked sense of humour wanted to comment. But it wasn’t the right time or place. The witches here were aiming to establish who should be the next supreme.

The next queen of the witches sat in this very room.

Emara cleared her throat. “Nothing unusual.” She gave a glance to Sybil, who gave one small, discreet nod. “My magic is roughly the same. Although my healing magic has come on a lot since the last full moon, thanks to the Empress of Earth.”

Rya glared from Sybil back to Emara. “And what of your water magic?”

The Empress of Fire knew that water was the missing link in Emara’s powers. She seemed to concern herself with it every meeting just on the off chance the element had suddenly made an appearance. Emara securing strong magic in all five elements would threaten her current lead.

“Still not strong,” was all Emara said back.

“We can’t all be strong in every element, Rya,” the Empress of Spirit shot towards her, a grin lining her dark purple lips. Kerrix lifted her chin and sat back in her chair of red and gold fabric. She threw a thin leg over the other, crossing them. “I only concern myself with my own element.”

Rya dragged her eyes from Emara’s face, and they landed on Kerrix. “If we are to find a leader of the witches and earn our chair back in the prime seats, we must not only concern ourselves with our own element, but with all of the elements we are capable of.”

Emara chewed into her cheek. It wasn’t like Rya didn’t have a point; they needed a leader, someone to sit with the prime of the kingdom.

“Besides, Kerrix, you seem to be the only witch that never discloses any of her strengths and weaknesses. All we know is that you are the Empress of Spirit and nothing more.” Rya challenged her, “For all we know, you could be our new supreme and are not telling us.”

Kerrix’s grin only widened. “Like I have said time and time again, Rya, I am only interested in spirit work. I couldn’t give a monkey ass about earth, water, fire, or air.” She looked between the other empresses, her glittering smokey eyes burning with an apology. “No offence.”

“None taken,” Sybil said lightly.

“Well, it has to be one of us.” Rya’s dominant stare worked its way through everyone. “The late supreme has been gone for many moons. One of us must bear the crown and title.”

Crown and title.

Apprehension slid through Emara’s veins.

“I must admit, I have no interest in being the leader of our covens.” Lillian’s soft, melodic voice drifted over the room as she placed a hand on her swelling stomach. The Empress of Water had a martial alliance with Clan Coldwell—Marcus’s youngest brother, to be exact. And it seemed that the only thing on her mind was her growing family. Emara had sent her congratulations a few moons ago on both the union and the news of the baby. “If I should emerge as supreme, I would gift my crown to someone who should want it.”

Lillian’s maids looked down at the floor as the statement fluttered through the room.

Rya huffed at that and so did her maids, scoffing like two little mini versions of their leader. “It doesn’t work like that,” Rya told her. “You don’t get to choose. The Gods do.”

“The Gods haven’t chosen yet,” Lillian reminded her as she took her hand from her belly and held her stare. “So, maybe they are leaving fate up to us.”

Emara also understood where Lillian was coming from; taking the witching crown was a lot of weight to bear, and the water empress seemed to like her life just how it was in Tolsah Bay.

A small cough came from where Sybil sat. “I do not feel strong enough in fire magic to be the next supreme. It is practically non-existent,” the red-headed witch admitted. “It would take a miracle for my fire to come in as strong as Rya’s or Emara’s.” She looked down at her hands and fiddled with the silver ring on her middle finger. “It’s not me, I am sure of it. I am happy to keep my earth crown and be satisfied.”

A potent silence lingered in the cottage.

Rya’s stare returned to Emara’s face. “And you are sure you have not had a breakthrough with water?”

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