Page 46 of A Tale of Treachery

“Is that why you killed Glendora? To protectme?” Eulalia clenched her fists in fury.

“No…my magic did that. To protectme, not you,” I admitted in a whisper.

“And will it kill us now? Now that we know the truth?” Isadora accused from behind her, her face twisted with disgust.

My shoulders dropped. I could only speak for myself, not my magic, but I did so anyway. “No, I won’t hurt any of you…” When they stayed silent, I reassured them, “My magic’s been quiet since that night. I can find a way to keep it locked inside of me. I just need a little time.”

Sorrow filled Eulalia’s eyes. “Do you have anything you wish to add?” she asked softly, seemingly begging for a better explanation, anything to make this right and make her coven understand.

There was nothing more to say, so I plopped down onto the soft moss and crossed my legs, willing to wait for their deliberation. It was clear that I no longer begged for only her forgiveness. I was begging for her coven’s forgiveness. And no matter what I said—no matter what I did—they would never find it in their hearts to absolve me.

“No, I’m finished. Do what you will,” I stated, knowing there was no reason to argue when my guilt was already decided. Gods knew what that little seer, Matilda, had seen, but they wouldn’t base their judgment on a possible future. Would they?

Eulalia’s eyes shuttered as she looked at me with regret. She motioned for her coven to follow her outside of the circle and into the forest where they would deliberate my punishment. The final judgment was now out of my hands, but I hoped and prayed that Eulalia could talk some sense into her followers. She’d always had my back before, and I hoped it remained that way.

I watched from inside the circle as the witches gathered, whispering in low tones. Eulalia’s voice echoed a little louder than the others, seemingly dissatisfied with the votes, but the women remained persistent as they squared off against her. Her wide eyes met mine, momentarily frozen in shock, before she nodded in agreement.

The women reentered the circle, slowly surrounding me in a round formation. They’d made their judgment. I rose and faced Eulalia, the action forcing me to turn my back on the few witches behind me. They were flanking me from all sides, ensuring there was no escape. I tensed when I realized that Isadora and Kathryn weren’t in their usual position next to Eulalia. They’d taken stances behind me, creating an attack formation.

This couldn’t be good.

I threw my shoulders back and lifted my chin, preparing myself for battle as the women drew power into themselves. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected something like this, and from Eulalia, of all people.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve decided instead of trying to pin me in like a caged animal?” I demanded.

She swallowed, and her eyes watered along the rims. Her face dropped, and I knew. She didn’t have to speak—I could tell by the expression on her face, could feel the sheer amount of power the witches were drawing from.

They were going to strike.

“Don’t,” I warned. “Please don’t do this, Lali.”

I didn’t want to use my magic. It had been silent and withdrawn for so long, that it wouldn’t be pretty if it were forced to rear its ugly head, but if I was forced to defend myself, there was no way of stopping it from protecting me.

When she spoke, her voice wavered, and her chin trembled. “We see only one way this can end. We do this to protect ourselves and the world we live in. I’m so sorry it had to come to this, Dahlia, but your punishment is simply an eye for an eye.”

Her spine steeled, and she collected herself and spoke steadily, firmly. “I, Eulalia Enolian, and the Gallows Coven sentence you to death for the crimes of murder, fraud, and endangerment.”

CHAPTER17

Death. The word slammed into me as the witches started to chant in their old language. Eulalia had sentenced me to death. The world spun as their voices uttered a chorus of finality. My friend, my very best friend, sought to end my existence. Memories of our first meeting in the woods years ago and of our nights spent laughing and smiling at the tavern assaulted my mind. So many joyous nights spent together had become stained in an instant. How could we go from being thick as thieves to this venomous moment in time?

My chest caved in, suddenly taken over by a hollowed-out void in the presence of total heartbreak. A sickening feeling swelled in my gut, and bile rose to my throat, the taste sour like betrayal.

“Please, Lali,” I said, “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt any of you. Stop this now before anyone is harmed.” I spun around, looking each woman dead in the eye. I couldn’t trust myself not to harm them in self-defense. If I had to beg them to stop, I would. It was for their own safety. “I can’t be held responsible for what happens if my magic is forced to protect me. Please, I’m begging you.”

Through my pleading, I could feel it rising to the surface, vindictive and vile, everything I didn’t want to be a part of me. It sensed the danger surrounding us and wanted to lash out, unable to discern between friend and foe.

“That’s the problem, Dahlia,” Eulalia spoke, her voice firm. “You can’t be trusted not to harm others. You have zero control over your own magic. You are a danger to everyone!” Her last words were shouted with a mixture of rage and disappointment, and I winced at the forcefulness with which she spoke.

The air went stale as the women chanted under their breath. They slowly drew magic from the environment, layer upon layer piling up to reach a pinnacle of power that I never knew they were capable of.

They were making a huge mistake.

Their magic rushed toward me on an electric current, and I brought my hands up in defense. Without thinking or feeling, my magic conjured up a barrier around me, an invisible protective bubble. Waves of magic slammed against the barrier in an outright assault, only to bounce back and fizzle in the air.

The witches didn’t stop. Unfazed, they threw attack after attack against the shield, each strike against it making a crackling noise as little sparks fell. The shield weakened bit by bit under their onslaught, and I struggled to pull my own magic back. It wanted death. Destruction. Sweat dripped into my eyes, blocking my vision as I strained to hold it in check.

Eulalia’s eyes went wide with urgency when she noticed a small hole forming in the translucent bubble surrounding me. A weak spot. My magic noticed, too, trickling along the hole in a rush to repair the damage.

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