Page 8 of The High Mountain Court

Chapter Three

Her whole body felt frozen by the power of Hale’s proclamation. If the witches were coming together once more, that meant there were enough of them left . . . and they were finding each other. Remy squinted into the darkness, grappling with that thought. The red witches had scattered to the wind, all seemingly hunted down. Remy had wondered for a long time if she was the only one left.

“Yes,” Hale confirmed, watching as Remy’s mind whirled. “Baba Morganna leads them still.”

Remy’s chest crumpled inward. It couldn’t be true.

“Baba Morganna is alive?” She wrung her hands. She had seen a mountaintop fall onto the High Priestess of the red witches. She was certain that the falling rocks had killed her. But maybe her six-year-old memory was incorrect. “How can you possibly expect me to trust what you say?”

“A courtier friend of ours has seen her with his own two eyes,” Hale said.

“That means nothing,” Remy said. “Your friend might be working with Vostemur.”

“Bern can be trusted. He has . . . ties to the High Mountain Court. He would never betray them,” Hale assured her. His lips tilted up at her as he spoke his next words, as though he had been waiting to at long last release them. “But Bern said to tell you to use that red candle in your bag if you do not believe him, Little Sparrow.”

Blood drained from Remy’s face. Little Sparrow. It was the nickname Baba Morganna used to call her as a child. It was true, then. She was alive. She could use her red witch candle to call on the High Priestess to confirm it . . . but then the candle would be spent forever. It was too much information for it to be a lie. She would use the red candle if she ever came to doubt them, but if the red witches were reuniting, it changed everything. Remy had hoped all these years that the High Priestess had survived, but to have it confirmed . . . she clenched her hands to keep from crying.

“You still haven’t explained why you need me,” Remy said, schooling her shock, staring down the prince once more. He smirked at her hard look.

“Your magic links you to the High Mountain Court. You can feel their magic and all objects made by it,” he said. He swept his wavy hair off his forehead.

“If you know the red witches are gathering, why not just go to them? Their combined powers are much stronger. They would be better able to help you,” Remy said. “I didn’t even know of such stirrings.”

“I doubt your coven would trust or help me,” Hale said. “But it is not Raffiel himself that I need your help to find.”

Remy’s leg tapping paused as the prince continued.

“Red witch magic is in the Immortal Blade, yes, but also in its two sister talismans: the Shil-de ring and the amulet of Aelusien.”

Shil-de was Mhenbic for “eternal shield.” The red witches made the ring to protect the wearer, making them indestructible. The ring passed through many hands over the years, and no one knew where the ring was anymore.

The ancient High Mountain fae stowed the amulet in Mount Aelusien. They imbued the talisman with witch magic, and whoever wore it could access the powers of the red witches. So many people had died on the slopes of Mount Aelusien in their quest for the amulet that the mountain now bore an ominous name: the Rotted Peak.

“You want me to help you find them?” Remy raised her eyebrows to Fenrin and her friend laughed. This prince was delusional.

“I already have an idea where the ring is,” the prince continued, “but I need a red witch to authenticate it. And to survive the Rotted Peak, I need red witch magic too. I plan to take the talismans to the red witches in the hopes they tip off Raffiel. Even if the witches won’t give up their prince’s location, the talismans in our possession should draw him out. He can defeat the Northern King with the amulet and the ring. He could end this war before it begins.”

“And if risking life and limb for these talismans doesn’t draw him out?” Remy hedged.

Heather continued her fussing over Remy, producing an ointment from her bag. The brown witch applied it to Remy’s bruised forehead, her healing magic glowing a faint brown around her fingertips. Remy winced at the stinging tincture, swatting Heather’s hand away. The wound would disappear soon enough on its own.

“Then the Eastern Court will have two powerful bargaining chips in the inevitable war with the North,” the prince said with a disconcerting level of nonchalance. “The Immortal Blade will struggle to cut across our lands if faced with those talismans’ protection. We will offer safe haven to the red witches in the Eastern Court and rally the other Courts to our side if we must.”

“You speak as if the war between the Courts is certain,” Fenrin muttered.

“We’ve already had skirmishes with those cocky Northerners at the Eastern border,” Carys said. “You think Vostemur will ever stop? His ambition is endless. He will not be satisfied until he is the only ruler in all the land.”

Hale nodded. “We have a window to make our move while his attention turns toward the blade.”

“And what do we get out of this arrangement?” Remy cut in. “So far it seems you have abducted us from our home and threatened us.”

“I told you tying them up was a bad idea,” the female Eagle, Briata, called from across the room. She spoke in a low, enticingly gruff voice that made Remy’s eyes snag on her striking features once more.

“Yeah, nothing like abduction to really breed trust, Hale,” Talhan added with a snicker.

The prince scowled at them, but his warriors only grinned back. It was strange to hear these soldiers talking back to their prince. They spoke like they were friends, not just his loyal servants.

“Maybe you should take a walk, Hale,” Carys added, leaning in to speak to the prince in a whispered voice that Remy could barely hear. “Let me talk to them.”

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