Page 61 of Oath of Revenge

“I took the potion and said the spell two days ago,” Sharlo said harshly.

Bella’s stomach knotted and the gardening tools around them began to shake. Her vision tilted as dizziness swam through her.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.

Sharlo’s face twisted into a bitter grimace. “Yes. The cat was fine for three weeks, so I took it. I’ve been fine, have felt fine, still feel fine. I’ve made the same amount of daily progress on the caved-in escape passage in the cellar as I have every day for the past four months.”

Bella’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Sharlo was the last living, moving thing in the castle. There were no more cats, no one else to talk to. She’d be utterly alone after she died.

She was a fool, a selfish fool, to think such a thing. Her head ached and her stomach twisted to imagine what Sharlo must be feeling right now. More tears fell down her cheeks. She’d cried so much in the past four months, more than she had in the previous four years combined.

Sharlo waved a gnarled and straightened into the ramrod posture only a servant can maintain. “None of that now, your highness. When I go, I go and not even the gods can change it. Let’s get you set up with anything you might need before I kick the bucket. Perhaps you can even use more potions on me and see if these hooks will at least disappear.”

Bella frowned and nodded, following Sharlo into the herb garden. Her mind latched onto that last detail. Sharlo took the same potion and said the same spell that Bella had used on the last cat, which had separated into a normal cat for three weeks.

But the cat had separated within just a few hours.

“You did it two days ago, you said? And the hooks are still there?” Bella asked, a million questions running through her mind. Sharlo should’ve separated from the coat rack by now. Maybe she wasn’t dying and would be fine. Maybe Bella could save her with another spell or potion. There was still hope.

One week ago…

Bella coaxed the fork and spoon to pour one more ingredient into the bottle.

“That’s it. Thank you so much. You’re invaluable. Priceless. I appreciate you so much,” she murmured.

A few kind words went a long way with semi-conscious inanimate objects. She only wished she’d praised Sharlo more while she’d been here. Losing her had been the hardest to take, possibly because she’d been so accepting of it. When she hadn’t checked in before going to bed for the night, Bella had gone to find her.

She’d fallen in the cellar, chisel and hammer nearby.

Bella had animated a carpet and wrapped her in it, then magically flown it outside to the hole Sharlo had dug. Bella’s stomach clenched at the memory, how she’d argued with Sharlo but the woman had demanded Bella stay practical.

Indeed, the lessons in practicality had helped her tame her wilder emotions. In those last weeks, the woman had opened up about her life too. It had given Bella even more perspective on the past year’s events.

The fork and spoon clicked together in a series of sounds as they talked to each other. These two were now permanently animated as she didn’t have the heart to make them go back the way they’d been before. Then she’d be truly alone.

She’d had enough of death in the past few months. Her husband, Gastone, had been killed in her bedroom right in front of her. Then she’d wrapped his killer in her sheets and squeezed the life from him until he burst all over the room.

There’d been dozens of dead in the courtyard and throughout the bottom floor from the rebellion. Sharlo and Ignot had helped dispose of them, but then she’d lost Ignot, the cats, and finally Sharlo.

She shivered, throwing off the memories as the lights in the room flickered. She clapped as the fork and spoon finished pouring the precious liquid into it. It was the last of the cat’s whiskers. After this, there would be no more potions available to test the separation spell. She’d gone back to testing the dead animal heads on the walls in the hallway, but had had no success.

She sighed and said the spell to heat the stone underneath the bottle to a low boil. The fork tapped his tongues together in a clacking that somehow translated into her brain.

There was no explanation for it. Magic hadn’t worked normally since that fateful day when she’d lost her body to a mad magical mirror.

She rubbed her forehead and waited for it to boil. Once all the supplies were gone, she’d have to start pulling down the books that had been out of reach. She’d focus on reading every blasted book in the library. Perhaps there was an obscure spell book or something to assist in her search to reverse the curses. Ideally, she’d find something to help her get her body back.

Chapter 19

Wulfric’s voice was deep and melodic as he outlined a plan to go into the Growler camp. Scarlet was so tired and cold, she wanted to just curl up and listen to him as she drifted off to sleep. Her fuzzy brain was probably why she let him take the lead.

They had some reconnaissance to do. He pointed with the tip of the dagger.

“These are the Elder’s tents, and this is the only wooden permanent structure in camp. The longhouse is where we take most of our meals, so there’s always a crowd there.”

“And you want to walk right past it?” She shook her head. This is not how she’d accomplished missions for the Hunters.

He drew in the dirt on the edge of the camp’s circular shape. “Ideally, no, but I need to see who’s on watch first. If it’s some of Brody’s friends, then I’ll need to go around them and talk to one of the Elders.”

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