Page 8 of The Fated and the Damned
He was headed to find the táltosok, no doubt. To find answers and to take charge if no one else would. I wondered how many remained in the village at any given time. A mere handful, if witches were being taken from the town. From my experience fighting alongside the táltosok, they were not a people who took their duties lightly. How had no one ever seen the cultists come? Were women stolen from their beds by thieves in the night?
I shook my head. What a mess. If Dante were here …
I swallowed. My betrothed would have ripped someone’s head off for allowing the village to fall into chaos. I imagined a small part of him might delight in it if that head were Caitlin’s. He’d demanded to come, of course. Even though we weren’t speaking, he still managed to frustrate me to no ends. But Mistvellen needed him more than I did right now.
Maybe always. My anger towards him was still too raw to analyse and I had needed space, time, and a physical target to unleash upon. Unfortunately for András, that had been him in the sparring ring.
My friendship with him and Margit was all that was keeping me from falling apart—and Imre’s baked goods. Specifically his bejgli. The poppyseed or walnut sweet rolls melted in the mouth, gooey with just the right amount of sugar. I must have eaten cartloads of his pastries by now, and he never failed to give me a bear hug and a grin when I visited him. Margit had threatened me with about a thousand curses if I were to get any stains on the books in the library.
“Books,” I muttered to myself, the glimmer of an idea forming. “Are the histories and lore on our coven still kept in the temple? I know we have records dating back hundreds of years.” Eszter pursed her lips, and I sighed. “Don’t tell me, they’re under lock and key by Caitlin?”
She smiled apologetically, confirming my suspicions. “Caitlin has remained holed up in the temple, admitting the councillors only when calling a meeting. Its halls are no longer accessible by the witches.”
“What!?” My blood heated, my fingers curling into fists. “She doesn’t allow the townsfolk to worship the gods? In wartime we need their blessings the most.”
Eszter said nothing, but I sensed the anger seeping from her, thick and oily. To deny the witches their right to worship was a low blow. Even the High Witch had no right.
My stomach curdled like aged milk. Caitlin fucking Vargo. She would be our coven’s end if she didn’t pull her finger out of her ass and act. Our people were dying, being stolen out from under her nose. Soon they’d be starving. The gods would not watch over them without prayer.
“Fuck this,” I snapped. “Caitlin’s reign isdone. The council is not a dictatorship, it’s a democracy. It’s time the witches remembered their power.”
Eszter stared at me with a small smile curving her face, those honey-brown eyes lighting up. A soldier’s smile. “You’re planning something already, aren’t you?”
I smirked. “What would you say if I was?”
My sister tossed her long hair over a shoulder and raised her chin. “I’d say what are we waiting for?”
It was a cloudy night, which suited my needs perfectly. Shadows masked the white glow of the moon as Eszter, András and I stalked through the temple grounds. I’d dressed all in black to avoid detection, and it was a good thing, too.
Caitlin had guards patrolling the temple grounds, because of course she thought herself more important than the entire fucking town. I gritted my teeth so hard they hurt. She was an utter fool, and a fool in power was more dangerous than most.
Eszter skirted the flowers and bushes with practiced ease. We’d had our many mischievous quests in our youth, but the way she moved like smoke was impressive. As if she glided rather than walked.
Our boots made no sound as we ran across the grass, halting behind pillars and plants. If I wasn’t so worried about getting caught, it might have been fun. I’d studied the soldier’s movements from afar as they circled the area, performing sweeps once every few minutes, though they switched it up on occasion.
Smart. Annoyingly smart. It made it harder for enemies to sneak behind their patrols and today, that enemy was me. If the táltosok saw me and András they’d ask no questions—their allegiance certainly didn’t lie with Caitlin—but I didn’t want to cause confusion or risk alerting Caitlin to our presence.
I glanced at my sister. “You know what to do.”
She nodded devilishly, streaking towards the outer garden to intercept the guards before they made their next sweep. Eszter made a striking distraction, one I knew they’d have trouble keeping their eyes from.
Seeing András and I would only rouse suspicion, and the thought of Caitlin’s withered fingers grasping a tighter foothold on this village was unacceptable.
“Kitarni,” András whispered, motioning me towards the rear of the building. I had a good view of his ass as he moved. There were worse things I could look at. I smirked. Much, much worse.
We dashed into a rose bush, a thorn scraping against my exposed cheek. The sting reminded me of the last time Eszter and I had been in this position, spying on the councillors. Caitlin had been hesitant to act then, too.Nothinghad changed.
András threw me a grin that was all white teeth and victory. “An entrance fit for a queen, my lady,” he purred, jerking his chin at the window above.
I rolled my eyes and huffed. “I don’t remember it being so gods-damned high.”
“I’ll give you a boost,” he said quietly, lacing his fingers together.
Frowning, I judged the distance, then shrugged. “Your funeral.”
“All right, on three. One, two—”
Ignoring his little pep rally, I stepped into his hands, opting to climb him like a ladder rather than be tossed up the wall. He grumbled as I put one boot, then the other, on his shoulders, but the window was still too high. “I’d say sorry, but we both know I’d be lying,” I said.
