Page 121 of When Wishes Bleed

She grinned wickedly. “Count me in.”

Arron’s silver, slitted eyes narrowed at her. “You hunt?”

“I do now,” she sassed with a quirked brow that dared him to question her again.

With our plans settled, we turned our attention back to the somber processional. Inside the House of Water, everything was painted in varying shades of blue and teal. Some faded from pale to dark, reminding me of the graduated pool in the palace.

Bay rested on a column of water rising from an indoor fountain. The tips of his wavy gray hair were tugged along with the current. We stood in front of him for a moment and stepped away to allow others to pay their respects.

Ethne waited in the hallway, standing straighter when Arron and I approached. “May I speak to you for a moment?” she asked quietly. “Alone.”

Arron told me he would be nearby but stepped away, making small talk as he walked further into the House with a small boy. The child showed Arron a small twister that he swirled between his palms and Arron pretended to be most impressed.

I turned my attention back to Ethne. She swallowed thickly. “I felt you should know that Bay was your father. He was hand-fasted to Cyril in the months you were conceived. He wanted to tell you, but Ela forbid it and I seconded her. Even Wayra believed it unwise.”

The revelation knocked the breath out of me.

It was why he was kind. Why he tried to empathize with me. Why he supported me in accepting the invitation and sent Mira to help me.

My eyes began to water. “Thank you for telling me.”

She inclined her head, her fiery hair falling over her shoulders. “I am so sorry, Sable, for how I treated you. We thought Cyril had twisted you. We were afraid of you, but that doesn’t excuse how we treated you. If I could take it all back, I would.”

“Thank you,” I whispered despite the knot in my throat.

I stared at Bay again as Ethne took her leave, patting my arm as she passed me by. Bay – my father –loved me. He was bound by a duty I didn’t fully appreciate or understand, but he did what he could for me when he was able.

And now he was gone.

A tear fell from my eye. Standing in the middle of the House of Water, I cried for Bay, for all he did for me, for his sacrifice, and for all the wonderful moments life would offer that he wouldn’t see come to fruition.

Arron came to stand at my side, silent but present. I appreciated it more than he knew.

Soon, Mira would take Bay’s body to the lake, situated in the wood far beyond the Center. She would place him in the water, where the Goddess would absorb him. Then, she would come find me. Together, we would hunt down the witches who tried to kill Tauren.

Who sided with my mother.

The witches who deserved to die.

Using a concealing spell, Fate led me into the Wilds, where the undergrowth was thick and thorny for many miles before the forest thinned in a quaint valley. A brook babbled nearby. The witches had warded the area. Charms made of bent, woven wood swung in the breeze.

If it weren’t for the spell I’d conjured, the charms would have alerted them to our presence. We passed charm after charm, and as the trees became scarce, the charms thickened. Three hung from the branches of larger pines. We were close.

Fate gave me a vision of his sigil, a mark that darkened the closer we came to our targets. We found the male witch sleeping in a dilapidated cabin. The only part of the roof not covered in a thick carpet of moss had caved in. He never saw us coming.

Mira kicked the door open. The witch threw his blankets off and siced his pet on us. The large canine had been dead a very long time, from the looks of the rotten bits of flesh and fur dangling from his underbelly. I ordered the dog to sit and he obeyed.

Arron appeared in front of the witch. “Is that any way to welcome guests?” he teased.

The witch flung spell after spell, but Fate’s sigil pulsed on his head. I used my hands to bat the desperate attempts away like pests until finally, the witch relented. He begged me not to take the life of his lover, which enraged me.

“You tried to kill the man I love and you’re asking me to spare your lover? I don’t think so.”

Rope in hand, I started toward him, but Mira reached him first.

Mira, thick tears clinging to her eyes, let out a roar and drowned him with a torrent of water so strong, it plastered him to the wall, holding him in place until his lungs filled with fluid. Once she was sure he was dead, she let him fall bonelessly to the ground. Arron strode toward the body, his heavy boots bowing the floorboards. Clouds poured from his hands, swallowing the male witch whole. When they dissipated, the witch’s body was gone.

“Where is the female?” Mira asked, glancing around the filthy space with wild eyes.

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