Page 74 of The Powerless Witch

“Now, Amantha!” Celeste hissed, looking up at my sister. “Take it out now or he dies!”

Amantha flinched, then pulled her hand away from our mother, grasping the blade protruding from her husband’s chest. She whimpered as the iron burned her skin, but with one swift, determined movement, she yanked it free. Blood burst from the wound, but then Celeste’s hand was there, pressing on the hole while more of her magic poured into his body. The little crevice that leaked some of her power beforehad widened so much that I was impressed she wasn’t screaming already with the control it took to hold back the tide of her magic. But she held a firm grip, guiding out just enough not to overwhelm their bodies.

She was…healing them. The people who betrayed her and tried to sell her to her enemy. The people who insulted her and berated her at every turn.

I took a step closer when another roar made me look over my shoulder. The few remaining witches were retreating toward the trees, pushed back by the forest’s creatures. The fire continued to spread, but I could feel the air move as my people tried to squash it down, water and tree nymphs hectically running around in an attempt to protect the trees.

Calling on the wind and sky, I urged them to come to our aid. A flash of lightning pierced the darkness again, and this time, I let it out. A drop hit my face, sizzling against my hot skin. Another one followed, then another as the sky let out its tears.

“I can’t save both,” Celeste said in the quiet moment before thunder stole all sounds from the world. The words pulled me out of my stupor and I looked back down. Amantha was even paler than before, her hair stuck to her sharp cheeks. She looked at her husband, then at our mother, her expression blank.

I dropped by Celeste’s side, reaching for the two bodies to assess the damage.

She was right. She couldn’t heal them both fast enough if she kept her focus divided. But if I were to take over one…

I put my hand on the earth and it groaned in pain, reminding me of all the suffering it had endured because of us. I couldn’t take more of what was already destroyed, kill something else for the mere chance of saving one of ours. It wasn’t fair.

My heart shattered for the second time in my life, knowing that I was once again the reason for this suffering. My eyes stung as I stared at my mother’s body, her chest barely moving now. I had watched my brother die as well, pressing my hands over his wound while his blood poured, and his last words, still laced with hate, tore from his mouth like a curse.

“Your fate is a curse. You will be the death of us all, and then there will be no one.”

“Tell me what to do, Amantha.” Celeste’s voice made me open my eyes, glancing at her as she held my sister’s hollow gaze. Even if she noticed me, she didn’t look at me and I understood why. If she made the decision herself, she’d be a killer again because one of them would die. But if it was my sister’s choice…

Just like that night three hundred years ago. She had taken a life to save another—to save me. She had made the choice because she couldn’t save both. Now Amantha had to do the same—become a killer, just like she claimed Celeste to be.

“I…I can’t.” Amantha closed her eyes, bowing her head down. “I can’t…”

My heart broke for her. But it was Celeste’s sorrowful face I couldn’t look away from, the solemn smile that appeared on her lips even as her eyes remained dead.

“Then I will choose for you, so you may keep hating me instead of yourself.”

Her fingers lifted from Helio’s chest when my mother suddenly moved, grabbing Celeste’s wrist. We all stared at her in shock, watching her struggle against the pain and the weakness.

“Heal him,” she commanded in a quiet, hoarse voice. “He will make a fine king.” My mother released her hand, nudging it away from her own body. Celeste moved immediately, putting both palms on Helio’s chest and pouring more of her magic into his body. I gave her a wary look, watching that dam inside her widen as she whispered incantation after incantation.

My mother’s expression turned despondent when she looked at me.

“So would have you, child,” she whispered. I crawled closer to kneel by her side, taking her burned hand in mine. There was barely any flesh left, her body as light as a feather. I watched the life seep out of her, soaking into the earth and feeding it back its precious magic.

No, I couldn’t do this again. Gritting my teeth, I buried my hand in the soil. I sent a silent apology for what I was going to do, ignoring its cries and woes of pain.

“No!” my mother hissed before I could siphon that powerful magic. I looked at my Queen and the tears in her eyes gave me pause. “I made many great mistakes in my time, but the biggest of them all was seeing you for what you could be and not what you were. A child in need of love, not a tool in need of honing.” The tears flowed down her burned cheeks, her eyelids drooping lower and lower while she struggled to keep going. “Heavy is the burden of the crown and it can make one lose sight of why they took that power in the first place. For peace,” her fingers tightened ever so slightly and her eyes flickered to where Amantha was kneeling, staring at Helio with a bated breath, “for love,” my mother looked back at me and her hand slacked against mine, “for family.”

“I’m sorry…” I started, struggling to find the words I had been meaning to say for so long. Her smile was weak, but full of understanding that told me she knew. She knew why I had done everything.

She closed her eyes, and I sucked in a breath, hanging on the sound of her heart beating, when she pushed them open again. Her gaze roamed until it settled on Celeste’s clammy forehead, on the heat her body emitted as she struggled to keep her control while healing a man she didn’t even know.

“Dark times are coming,” my mother whispered, her voice so hoarse and weak that I had to lean down to hear her. “Everything we did was to protect this place and its people. Mariam… she is something else, something dangerous. Even more dangerous than her.” Her eyes shot to Celeste again. The witch’s body was shaking now, her jaw clenched tight, but she didn’t stop even as she lost her balance, tilting sideways. I reached to catch her, but I was too late—Amantha grabbed her shoulder and steadied her. I watched them lean on each other, staring with hope while the hole in Helio’s chest continued to heal. My mother spoke again, “Keep our people safe, both of you. You are the last of our line. You cannot let the grove die.”

I watched as the life faded from her eyes, and her hand slipped from mine. Standing perfectly still, I committed to memory the face that had praised and scorned me for five hundred years, the woman who loved and despised me for the same reason.

It wasn’t until I heard Amantha’s sob and something fall to the ground that I snapped out of my stupor. My sister had moved closer to her husband, cradling his head in her lap and touching his face as he stared at her with unfocused eyes. His chest was intact again, the skin red and bruised but completely healed. And Celeste was lying on her side by his feet.

“Celeste!” I shouted in panic, turning her to her back. She was burning up and her magic was flooding out of those gates much faster than I could handle. Much faster than any living thing could handle. “Celeste, wake up!” She groaned, but she opened her eyes groggily.

“You need to get her out of the grove,” Amantha said, and I glared at her, but no matter how much I searched, I found no hatred in her eyes. Helio had finally focused his gaze, staring at his chest with awe. “She is going to unravel and she might burn it all down. We need to protect our people.” I opened my mouth to say I knew that when an actual smile pulled on her lips. “Take her somewhere safe and make sureshe survives this. Then bring her back so I can properly thank her for saving him.” Her hands kept caressing Helio’s face even as she stared at me, willing me to understand. And I did, I understood.

The grove had to be protected. At all costs.

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