Page 17 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 8

Caraway roared his anger at the ice-gargoyles from his prison, but the two beasts blocked him solidly. There was no way through.

The witch had taken Anise away before he could explain,before he could say sorry.

He punched the snowy wall until shards of stalactite ice dropped from the ceiling. One was so sharp, it cut the back of his hand as it came down. He landed heavily on the ground and dipped his head into his hands.

Damn him.

He should have been honest with Anise from the start. She would have understood, surely. Now he was stuck in an icy prison while his love was about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

He needed his sword, and he needed it now.

The gargoyles were magical creatures. They wouldn’t have touched Justice for fear of it affecting themselves. It was probably rusting on the path where he’d been poisoned.

Caraway’s head lifted.

A slow smile formed as a plan came to mind. Recently, Thorne had shown him a handy little trick. As one of the Cadre of Twelve, and Well-blessed to boot, Thorne was more adept at spell casting than Caraway could ever hope to be. The wolf-shifter had been recently imprisoned in the Ring—a gladiator type pit where differences were decided through a battle to the death. He’d been thrown in without his weapon, but years earlier he’d carved a transference rune onto his battle-ax’s handle. When he was in the Ring, all he’d needed to do was scratch that same rune onto his palm, and the spell would hunt down the weapon and bring it to him. Thorne had single-handedly won a battle against multiple mana-warped creatures because he’d had the might of his magic-cutting ax.

After hearing the story, Caraway had immediately carved a transference rune into Justice’s handle. Collecting a broken shard of stalactite, Caraway carved the rune into his palm and activated the spell, then he positioned himself behind the gargoyles and waited. A whooshing sound came, the air twisted and heated, and then Caraway felt a solid familiar weight land in the palm of his right hand.

Justice.

He grinned.

* * *

Anise followedthe witch through a long hallway carved from clear ice. While the witch didn’t seem to feel the cold, Anise felt it through to her bones. She hugged her cape around her shoulders and forced her teeth to stop chattering.

It wasn’t only her skin that was numb, but her heart and mind. She couldn’t comprehend Caraway had only followed her on this quest to use her. Did she know him at all? It hurt to think it was all a manipulation.

Her heart didn’t want to believe it. His kiss had been real. He couldn’t fake that.

I keep my horns to show you I accept you as you are.

Anise’s chest constricted. Her eyes watered.

“Here we go,” the witch’s sickly sweet voice echoed.

Anise looked up and found they’d emerged into a large hall. Like the rest of this part of the world, it was all made from ice. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like a sick sort of decoration. Prismatic light filtered through the ceiling from outside, making Anise realize it must still be day. As she followed the witch, Anise noticed strange shadows encased in the ice walls. The closer she got, the more she wanted to vomit.

The shadows were people, frozen with terror on their faces. Were they others like Anise, who’d come looking for answers, or were they fae who’d done the witch wrong?

Anise hugged her cape tighter.

The witch took steps up to a podium where an ice-throne sat. She sprawled into the seat and crooked her finger at Anise.

“Come closer, dear.”

Anise shuffled forward but stopped at the foot of the dais. “Where’s my bone dagger?” she asked.

“You’ll get it when you leave.” The witch slipped out the dagger from her boot and stabbed it into the arm of her throne. The hilt wobbled as it took purchase. “I couldn’t very well leave intruders in my home with weapons, could I?”

“Intruder?” Anise gasped. “I was invited.”

“The Guardian was not.”

“Nor was he excluded.”

---