Page 398 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 10

It was late afternoon by the time Mother called a halt to peeling chestnuts, so she and Swanhild might make dinner. Rossa escaped before she was forced to help with the cooking, too. She'd rather be out in the forest, hunting fresh meat for the stewpot, than hunched over the stewpot, stirring it.

After all day sitting in the autumn sun, the coolness in the shade of the forest was as refreshing as the waterskin of well-water she'd brought with her. Rossa's feet found their own way back to the clearing where she'd last trained with Father.

Where a single squirrel had been her downfall.

The squirrel's corpse still lay where it had fallen, cold and stiff after a night on the ground. She bit her lip and sent a bolt of magic into the dead squirrel. The sort of magic she didn't dare practice in town, or where anyone might see her.

The squirrel moved, stiffly at first, then more like the living creature it had once been as the magic began to work.

"Take to the trees," Rossa whispered to it.

The squirrel scampered up the nearest tree trunk, then broke into a run across the branches above Rossa's head.

She dug her teeth into her lip again, conjuring missiles made of magic alone. One by one, she directed the dagger-shaped projectiles at the fast-moving squirrel. And again, and again…

The magic blades passed harmlessly though the enchanted squirrel, before splashing on the leaves and branches behind it. The magic crackled and spat for a moment, before it vanished, leaving the trees relatively unharmed.

It did not have to be so – she could conjure fireballs, blades of ice or bolts of magic so concentrated, they punched holes through things. Father sometimes permitted her to practice with magical projectiles, but he preferred her to be proficient in more mundane weapons, leaving her magic for a last resort. A secret weapon, ready to be called upon when she needed it.

She'd tried using her magic against her father once in a fight, and only succeeded in knocking herself out when the spell rebounded, magnified, thanks to one of the magical charms he wore. She'd since managed to replicate such a shield around herself – no charm needed – but it had taken the shape of a large bubble, a sword's length from her body, so that it stopped her from fighting at all.

As the waning evening light would, too.

Rossa sighed. Her mother expected her home by nightfall. Never mind that there was nothing in this forest that was a match for her magic – her mother's word was law, and Rossa knew better than to disobey.

Besides, if she was late for dinner, there might be nothing left – Mother had been known to give their leftovers to the less fortunate in town. Especially if they were headed up into the mountains soon.

Rossa took a moment to dispel the spell on the squirrel, then buried the creature's corpse in a shallow grave beside the tree it had originally fallen from. Thief or no, it had helped her today, however unwittingly. And yesterday, for her father was right – she did need to be vigilant, not just for thieves, but for innocents who did not deserve to die.

Tomorrow, she would do better. And with that thought, Rossa straightened her shoulders and strode home.

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