Page 11 of Vanquished Gods

As the smoke stung my eyes, she grabbed my hands and dragged me outside, moving with the speed of a vampire. I half stumbled after her onto the path, and she continued to drag me around to the other side of her cottage. There, the jagged slope sheared off sharply to the churning sea below. On the narrow path overlooking the water, the marine winds whipped at me, chilling me through my cloak.

“What are we doing here?” I shouted into the wind. “What is the point of this?”

She smiled, a gaping grin. Then, she pointed down the cliffside. When I looked down, my heart skipped a beat. Leo was hanging off the side of a cliff ten feet below, his fingers losing their grip.

“Leo!” I shouted.

The fae gripped me by the hair, her fingers digging into my scalp. “I require a life. His or yours. Will you make the sacrifice in his stead?”

I closed my eyes. “Yes, yes, let him live!”

I ripped myself away from her grip, hurling myself over the side. I plunged through the air, and my vision went dark. I felt as if I were falling through an ice-cold void, until I landed in a foggy battlefield. The dead lay all around me, their Luminari armor dully gleaming. Crows pecked at the eyes of the Pater’s dead soldiers. Joy coursed through my veins, and I looked down at my fingertips, ecstatic with the euphoria.

The vision thinned, and I found myself staring up at the bright blue sky. I was back on the cliffside, staring down—with no sign of Leo. My heart slammed against my ribs, and it took me a few moments to realize what was stopping me from toppling over the edge.

A powerful arm wrapped around my waist, and the scent of firewood and jasmine coiled around me. Sion was pulling me tightly against his muscled body.

“Careful,” he murmured. “You nearly went over.”

“Where’s Leo?” I asked sharply.

“Still in the cottage. He’s fine. It was just a vision. Did you throw yourself off the cliff in the vision?”

I steadied myself on the path by the cliffside, and Sion released his grip on me. Breathing hard, I smoothed down my hair.

“It’s her.” The Keeper of Relics leaned against the cottage wall, watching, as she puffed a ring of smoke into the air. “I can’t say for certain how the Pater will be defeated.” She pointed a bony finger at me. “Icansay for certain that this is the one who can help to bring him down, yes. She has been touched by the Morrigan. She will give herself for her cause.”

Dread slithered over my skin. How many people would I kill—and would I ever recover my sanity?

“Can’t say.” Embers in the Keeper of Relics’ pipe glowed orange, and she blew another puff of smoke in my face. “Perhapsthat’s what will happen if you try to fight your own fate,” she said, answering the thought I hadn’t even said out loud.

“You’re holdingmy hand too tightly,” said Leo.

“Sorry.” I loosened my grip on him, but I kept leading him between the thatched-roof cottages and crooked stone towers of Veilcross Haven. The sun was fully out, bathing the village in gold. The deeper we walked into the little walled city, the more I liked the winding cobblestone streets.

My gaze wandered over the shops with gold-lettered signs. We passed windows crammed with spell books, colorful elixirs, cauldrons, dried herbs, floating lanterns, and enchanted mirrors. We passed a bakery on Pudding Lane, its windows stuffed with breads and iced cakes. The scent of it was so utterly enchanting, ithadto be magic. Or maybe I was just starving after living on a diet of acorn mush.

My eyes widened as I took in the strange, bustling beauty of this place touched with magic. Cobbled alleys curved around steeply peaked wooden and stone buildings. After so much gray, this place seemed awash with color. Blue- and gold-capped turrets rose high into the clouds. Stained glass windows were inset into stones. Witches in vibrant shades sat out on balconies overhanging the streets, drinking from brightly colored teacups. A woman dressed in bright pink waved down at us as we walked. Tentatively, I found myself smiling.

Smiling. At a stranger. What sort ofworldwas this?

As we turned a corner, a river carved through the city, and toy sailboats floated down it toward a clocktower on an island. Lanterns hung from the boughs of gnarled trees, their beaming light reflecting off a clear blue river.

This was what life could be like without the Order, wasn’t it? Witches, living freely, practicing magic, making the world more beautiful and magic-touched.

This wasn’t a curse at all.

I found myself so distracted by the enchantment of the place that I nearly missed the street sign carved into the stone at an intersection—Twilight Thicket.This was where I’d been told I’d find my friends.

We turned onto a street where the windows of homes glowed with shades of periwinkle and violet. A cottage with warmly lit gabled windows and a grassy roof overlooked the road, and gold paint marked it with a fire rune.

Percival shoved the door open, and he beamed at me. “Elowen! We’ve been waiting for you.” He nodded inside, clearly an invitation to come in. “Anyone hungry?”

From behind him, Lydia pushed past and onto the crooked front steps. “Took you long enough. Honestly. I sent so many letters.” She frowned at me. “Have you not been eating? Get inside.”

The moment I did, I knew I wanted to stay there. Hugo sat contentedly in the warm firelight, steam curling from his mug. Light radiated in through large windows overlooking a garden. Godric was already handing Leo a small steak pie. A large bread pudding sat on the table, and the scent of all the food made my mouth water.

“I didn’t realize there were so many witches here,” I said.

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