Page 20 of Court of Heathens

Hagatha frowns. “What have you been up to, Freya? You have been quiet, and then the mask disappeared.”

The demon stills—we both do. If she speaks the truth now, it will not be good for her. No coven would be happy that a member summoned and trapped a god to break a deal with a demon.

They could cast her aside.

“I have been trying to contain my magic so I do not make any more mistakes.” Despite the spell, one of the strongest I have ever felt outside of my realm, Freya manages to lie.

She lies through a truth spell.

Just how powerful is this little witch?

The spell suddenly unwinds, and Freya gasps, falling forward. “I’m sorry, child, but I had to be sure.” Hagatha sighs, crouching down and offering her hand.

Freya climbs to her feet, ignoring the proffered hand, and glares at Hagatha. “And you cannot trust my word? You trust me that little?”

“You have never given me a reason for it.” Hagatha sounds tired.

“Am I not a member of this coven? Do I not deserve the same respect? You have all looked down on me since I was a child, and now you use magic on me as if I were a traitor?” Freya hisses, and black smoke seems to wrap around her.

Hagatha notices, glancing at it worriedly, but she doesn’t appear surprised. “Child, calm down. I had to know it was not you?—”

“Yes, it was not, yet here we are,” Freya hisses, and the sound raises the hair on the back of my neck.

It is chilling.

It is cold.

It is death.

I stare at Freya. Just what magic does she possess? She doesn’t even seem to notice she is doing it, as if it’s outside of her control, which is even more worrisome.

“Child.” Hagatha spreads her hands wide, watching her magic. “That mask, you know it, the one that sings to you.” Freya stills, as does the smoke. “It is the origin of the necromancers, and it is one of the most cursed objects in this world. It’s filled with so much evil and pain, it can corrupt even the purest soul. It is missing, and I am questioning everyone like this. Follow me if you do not believe me.”

The smoke slowly retracts. “Who would steal something like that?”

“Nobody with good intentions,” Hagatha admits, her face almost collapsing. “I swear, child, I am not singling you out. We have to get to the bottom of this swiftly. That mask . . . it could cause the end of this world.”

“Necromancers are all gone,” Freya murmurs.

Hagatha eyes her. “Or they want us to think they are.” She waves her hand. “I will continue to search, but if you see or hear anything, let me know, okay?”

Freya nods and watches Hagatha go with a frown on her face. She looks all soft and innocent, but I cannot forget what I just saw—the darkness leaking from her soul.

When the demon glances at me, he is not surprised.

He knows what she is.

We both do.

The question is, does she?

CHAPTER 12

Ishould be sleeping, but all I can think about is what Agatha said.

Someone stole the mask, the creepy one. How did she know it sang to me?

What does it mean that such a cursed object called to me?

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