Page 114 of The Witch and His Crow

‘Then what exactly are you?’ I bellowed, splitting the blood-stained sky with my cry. Although my words held meaning, I couldn’t quite grasp it.

There was so much I wanted to say, and yet I couldn’t make another sound. Words failed me. Nothing made sense. My mind was a maelstrom, that I couldn’t grasp the reality of this moment. Because I discovered a new fear, one that outweighed any other. And I could do nothing but face it.

A bell rang across the crimson sky. The Dreading had ended. Around us, the maze walls fell, disappearing into the earth asthough they never existed. And I was left to stare at the truth scarred into Arwyn’s stomach.

Arwyn feared the truth, so he faced it, and revealed it to me.

Salem wasn’t the only Hunter. He was merely a scapegoat.

Arwyn was the champion.

Arwyn was the lie.

My enemy was Arwyn.

My enemy hadalwaysbeen Arwyn.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Ididn’t want to look away from Arwyn, but when I did it was to see the familiar stone hall from the castle. We were back. Except this time, we were alone. No other witches were around us. One look to the chalkboard and I could see why.

Only two names remained.

Hector Briar. Arwyn Hopkin. Not Morgan, as the chalkboard had revealed before. The surname of Father Tomin.

Arwyn was Tomin’s son.

How many illusions had Arwyn knotted over this place, keeping the truth hidden from me? I gathered the answer was an inconsolable number.

The rest of the names had been scored out with a harsh line, or completely removed from the board. I choked on my panic, juggling different anxieties all at once, as I searched for the only name I cared about.

And there it was. Written in bold letters, but scored out rather than rubbed out. Romy Baily. She was alive. But my relief was short lived.

‘As I told you, I’d never hurt her.’ Arwyn refused to look away from me as he spoke. We were both kneeling on the floor, as if the Dreading’s maze had literally melted away, planting us backinside of the castle. ‘Regardless of what you think of me. I’m a man of my word.’

‘You are no man. I don’t even know what I think of you…’ I choked out, knowing I should hate Arwyn but being useless at grasping that emotion. ‘I don’t even know who I’m looking at.’

Arwyn hung his head in shame. ‘I’m the person you’ve grown to trust.’

‘You’re aWitch Hunter, Arwyn.’ The accusation came out with such vigour, it was a surprise my Gift didn’t rear its head. ‘Whatever version of the person I thought I’d come to know was no different than your…illusions.’

If I began picking apart all of the possible lies he’d conjured, it would destroy me. I had to focus, now more so than ever.

We were the last two witches in the Trials.

I found my mind racing through our weeks together. How much had been real? It was easier to think backwards. First to when Romy pointed at Salem and accused him of being the Hunter. But in the same second, I’d spotted Salem across the battlefield. What if Salem was nothing but a conjured image, used to throw me off? Romy knew. She knew about Arwyn.

‘She never left us… did she?’ I asked, body so tense my muscles were trembling.

He lifted his head up to me, not a hint of a smile across his face. ‘No. She never left.’

I’d seen her in our bedroom window. Her handprinthadbeen on the glass. ‘No point in dancing around the truth anymore, Arwyn.What did you do?’

‘What I had to,’ he replied plainly. ‘Romy, when she was healing me, found my Witch Hunter’s mark. I was too weak to hold the illusion concealing it, and in that drop of concentration, she discovered my secret.’

It was a surprise when steam didn’t pour out of my ears. ‘And…what next?’

‘I cast an illusion across the room. But she was always there, with us. Hector, I know you think I’m a monster, and it’s something I won’t dispute. But I swear, I kept her fed and watered. I just…I had to ensure she was separate from you.’

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