Page 75 of Echoes of War

Ethereal glass was an integral part of the spell, enchanted to hold and release emotions in a controlled manner. Abel handed me a silver spoon he’d stolen from Casper. I’d told him to disappear into the shadows the moment eyes were off him. Much like Riley, he was damn good at doing so. Hey, they always said it’s the quiet ones you need to watch out for.

He handed me the Indian Paintbrush flower from their greenhouse next. I dropped in some water from the river, pausing briefly, making sure I was sure I wanted to go this route. My options were nonexistent. After a quick moment of meditation, I placed in the last ingredient, prairie agate, to ground the spell in my intentions.

“Vicus, affectus dormiunt, intra hanc phialam, secreta sua custodiunt. Lenis lunae tactus, fluvii fluxus, sana ac renoua, cum crescunt parati.”

I grabbed Reina’s bag from Abel’s lap, cutting a sliver in the side and placing the vial inside. Quietly, in order to not disturb her, I sewed it back up, leaving it there until it sensed her desire to heal. When the time came, it would awaken what remained within.

“This is so freaking dope,” Abel said with excitement.

I brought my finger to my lips. “Shh.” Against my will, a small smile snuck across my lips at the comment.

Abel was the first one besides my sister June to call what I didcooland not fear it. I brushed Reina’s hair out of her face, dropping low to kiss her cheek. She tossed restlessly, mumbling to herself. We both shot down into our sleeping bags. When Reina stilled, Abel moved to the front of the tent to keep watch.

I fell asleep cuddled up next to her, finding serenity in her signature lavender scent. A small, consistent part of my sister that I had left.

There would be hell to pay for what Seth had stolen from our family, from Reina, for all of this.

Amaia

Two weeks came and went, but it would never be enough time. Even with the help of thebrujas,my confidence in Duluth’s abilities to hold strong had barely increased to a decent chance of survival. Only once they were presented to the face of danger and time would tell how they would prevail at the end of this all.

I had to worry about my own people now. Preparing them for the war to come was my number one priority. The idea that troops would mobilize and we could meet Covert Province on the battlefield was fun and all, but I knew better than that. I had an inkling that we would be met at our front doors before any of us had the chance to deploy to common ground. Covert had been silent since meeting my valley of death.

Silence was never a good thing in war. It meant they were plotting, preparing, adjusting. Surrender was the goal, not silence.

“I still don’t think they’re ready,” Sloan said.

She’d stepped up to the plate, grown into her role. I was sure she was ready, even if her people were not. Sloan had spent every waking moment using me as a sounding board. Running her own ideas by me but also stopping to take in all the advice and knowledge I had to offer. If she kept her time with Morgan front of mind, combined with all that I had taught her during our almost two-month stay, she would be just fine in a leadership role.

I’d made my own threats to their new general. They were less incompetent than the former one; I’d selected them personally after all. Still, the threat lingered. Sloan dies, they die. Violet and Sloan’s mother perish, so does he. Simple enough. I’d crafted a playbook specifically for their resources and troops they had written at a level a child could understand. In the end, that would matter little. Their ability to pivot on their feet in the chaos of war would determine everyone’s fate.

I pushed Sloan’s wild red hair behind her ear, studying her freckled face wanting to remember it forever. “Pretty sure you’re saying that to keep me here longer,” I teased.

“You always did know me best.” Sloan smiled.

Her breath was no longer marked by the stench of tobacco and smoke. She had always been better than I when it came to kicking bad habits. She was stronger in that way.

Alexiares grumbled unpleasantries, ready to leave this place behind him.

“Quiet,Bloodhound,” Sloan spat. “Dare I say I might miss winding you up.”

His lips pulled to meet the tip of his now scrunched up nose, “Ew. I think I hate you being nice to me more than hearing your smart-ass remarks.”

Sloan smirked, lacing her fingers through his shaggy hair, ruffling it up in disregard to the careful pattern he’d gelled it back in. “You’re not as bad as I thought.” She paused thoughtfully, “that’sa lie, you’re actually worse, but I suppose it’s easier to digest when you’re on our side.”

Alexiares eyes widened in horror. “Never say another nice word to me again or I’ll throw up.” Those two would never be able to have a decent conversation, but he gave her a weak smile before walking over to his bike.

I watched him as he strapped in his pack, making sure there was still room for me on the back. He admired it with a smug grin, happy for another ride. A long one at that.

“A sight I never thought I would see,” I said.

Sloan’s head tilted, and she blew on her hands, rubbing them together to provide extra warmth on the chilly January day. “What is?”

“You giving him a backhanded compliment,” I coaxed, “and him being glad to take it.”

“I remember when the idea of your man and your best friend getting along made your entire day,” Sloan suggested, winking dramatically.

Heat flushed my cheeks at the words,your man, and hoped it would pass off as being a reaction to the cold. Bringing my gloved hands to my face, I patted gently in an attempt to cover my ass.

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