The Witches' Blade (Five Crowns of Okrith, #2)

by A.K. Mulford

“Have fun with the witches,” Hale said, giving Remy a kiss on her cheek. Rua’s eyes tracked the movement. It was such an easy action, like he had done it a million times before. “Fun?” Renwick cocked an eyebrow at Hale. His gaze slid to Rua, and she almost felt knocked over by it as his lips twisted into a smirk. “They don’t know what your childhood was like then?” “What?” Remy’s eyes darted between Rua and Renwick. “It’s nothing,” Rua said, shaking her head in reassurance.

Renwick looked at Hale as the two males turned back toward the grand entryway. “Care for a game of cards?” “Don’t even think about it,” Remy cut in, raising her eyebrows at Hale. Remy looked at Rua with a shrug. “He’s a terrible card player.” Hale crossed the distance to Remy, arms encircling her waist and pulling her against him. “Is that an order from my Queen?” His lips skimmed across hers as he spoke. Rua looked down at her hands. They were about to be married. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. But to see them kissing while Renwick was there made her want to bury her head in the sand. “Yes, it is an order.” Remy gave Hale one last kiss and pushed on his chest. “Now, go find something useful to do. We have many more preparations before our wedding.” Hale cupped Remy’s cheeks and pulled her back into a kiss, the promise of their wedding loosening his grip on control.

“I am well, Little Sparrow.” The High Priestess cast her arms out wide, beckoning them closer, as she slid her gaze to Rua. “Little Starling.” Rua’s fingernails dug into her palms as she forced a smile at her nickname. She hadn’t realized Remy had such a nickname too. She wondered if Baba Morganna had once given nicknames to her elder brothers. “I called Raffiel, Little Hawk, and Rivitus, Little Rook,” Morganna said, scanning Rua’s face with a smile.

Baba Morganna’s eyes saddened even as she smiled. “We tried to be a home for you, Little Starling.” Rua’s eyes snapped up, staring at the High Priestess. “I’m sorry we failed you. We were foxes trying to raise a wolf.” Her eyes crinkled. “I hope with time it won’t feel so painful to visit here.”

have my birthday party tomorrow. We can’t get rip-roaring drunk tonight,” Remy warned them. They all laughed like she was telling a joke. “You have to receive your guests, but we have to do no such thing,” Carys said, eyes twinkling. “The woes of being regent.” Bri winked at Remy. “You know we can hold our liquor.” “Don’t worry, we can always prop her up and put a floppy hat on her, so she can sleep in the corner.” Talhan tilted his head to Rua.

Remy leaned back to speak to Rua and said, “They’re a pack of wolves, this lot.” She chuckled as she shoved another cracker into her cheek. “You better grab some now.” Narrowing her eyes at her sister, Rua didn’t move. Gone was the Queenly perfection that she had seen that morning. With mouthfuls of cheese and an oversized robe, Remy seemed far less intimidating than the regal persona that came to her so naturally. “How do you ever eat with them around?” Rua asked, making Remy cover her mouth to laugh. “Quickly,” Remy replied, biting into another cracker.

His clothes were disheveled, trousers wrinkled, and shirt unbuttoned to the navel as if he had hastily dressed. “You’re a bloodhound for debauchery,” Carys said, reaching up to take the tray from him. He squeezed in beside Remy, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his lap. His lips lingered against her skin as he kissed her temple. It was such nonchalant affection, making Rua’s stomach clench.

“I’d be careful,” Aneryn said, wiping the cocky grin off Bri’s face. “I have Seen what she can do.” “You two are a scary pair,” Talhan slurred, already succumbing to the potency of the wine. “You have no idea.” Rua laughed, wrapping her arm around her friend. She lifted the bottle back to her lips, gulping back the burning liquid to the last drop and wiping her mouth on her shoulder. Bri began slow-clapping as Talhan gawked. Carys touched her boot to Remy’s as she tipped her head to Rua. “She’s definitely one of us, Rem.”

Morosely staring across the room, her eyes flitted to Remy and Hale, standing beside the table. His arm was firmly fixed around her waist as they greeted their guests. It was as if he couldn’t bear to not be touching her, even as they navigated around the room. Her sister looked stunning in a mint-colored gown, her black hair flowing over her shoulders, her golden and ruby crown making her posture even more straight. Her radiance made bile rise up Rua’s throat. The Eagles and Carys crowded around the finger food, chuckling in conversation, concealing the effects of the many bottles of drink they had consumed in that root cellar.

Rua’s gut tightened. She didn’t belong there. She had the manners of a tavern wench, the accent of a country witch, and the temper of a street fighter. She was no Yexshiri Princess.

The bright colors, boisterous sounds, and honeyed smells all assaulted her senses. Crowd quieting, Hale raised a glass to his fiancée, Fated and Queen. His words were beautiful drivel that had Remy’s eyes welling with tears. The crowd cheered as the two kissed. Neelo and Rua rolled their eyes in unison. The heir snorted and smirked at Rua, a begrudging compliment, though it did not meet their eyes.

“You’re a Westerner?” Rua asked, startling Bri, who spun that violent golden gaze to her. “It’s complicated.” She cracked her knuckles. Neelo huffed, sliding a bookmark into their thick book and glancing at Bri. “It is not that complicated. There was a prophecy that you would take the Western Court throne, and so the Western Queen exiled your parents when you and Tal were newborns.”

Beside the High Priestess stood Hale, looking regal in his charcoal jacket and trousers, a flowing burgundy cape affixed to his silver fur mantle. He looked magnificent . . . and nervous. Rua’s cheeks dimpled as she stared up at her future brother. Remy was his Fated. Even so, he was anxious.

A collective gasp pulled Rua from her thoughts as the music swelled. The crowd stood as Remy appeared in the doorframe on Fenrin’s arm. The braziers flickered light against the walls, dancing to the string music, as the crowd murmured with delight, but Remy’s eyes were fixed only on one person. Rua’s eyes darted to Hale. She wasn’t sure he was breathing. He stared at his Fated in awe, eyes welling. Rua begrudged her sister many things, but she couldn’t deny how beloved she was. Remy truly looked like a goddess strolling down from the heavens to Hale.

Every single well-wisher watched the Queen of the High Mountain Court . . . all except one. When Rua caught those emerald eyes, they darted down to his hands. A flicker of muscle in Renwick’s cheek was the only sign he gave.

The whole thing was bizarre and morose. It made Rua want to roll her eyes again, but she kept getting warning stares from Bri during the hour-long ceremony and she knew she couldn’t afford another. She wouldn’t be surprised if her guard gave her a lecture later.

She frowned out over the cheering throng until Carys nudged her shin with her heel, forcing Rua to put on a fake smile. She plastered on the mirthless grin, eyes narrowing at those green eyes in the crowd. Renwick’s lips pulled up slightly to the sides as he laughed at her. He rolled his eyes at the whole charade and smiled at her again. A real smile replaced her fake one. He thought it was as ridiculous as she did. The two of them smiled at each other as the rest of the world faded away. Just them and their smiles in a room full of sound.

“Are Carys and Bri babysitting you, Your Highness?” Neelo asked, eyes darting down at Rua and over to Carys. “So it would seem,” Rua said. “Gods, you two are as gloomy as the other.” Carys sighed, turning to Rua. “Stay with Neelo, and you won’t have to indulge so many simpering elderly couples.” Neelo snorted. “I do make a good repellant.” Their eyes tracked up over Rua’s shoulder, and their mouth tightened. “Except to one person.” “Neelo!” Talhan’s voice boomed behind Rua. “What do you want?” Neelo said, cocking their head with a hint of annoyance. “Well, I came to save Rua from another prying couple, but since I’m here . . .” He scanned Neelo from head to toe. “Care to dance?” “I would rather cut off my arm with that cheese knife, Tal.”

know.” He turned to Rua. “But you’ll indulge me, won’t you? If I have one more matronly woman put their son’s or daughter’s hand in mine and push us onto the dance floor, I think I’ll pull my hair out.” Rua chuckled, placing her hand in Talhan’s. “Fine.”

“They love Remy, of course they do, but they were doing it for you, Rua. To spare you from the gossips. Do you really want to have to hear stories for the rest of your life about your frowning and eye-rolling at your sister’s wedding?” Rua frowned. “Yep, just like that.” “Have you come to scold me too?” Stumbling over her feet, Talhan caught her, and she fell back into the steps. She was a terrible dancer, her feet barely moving in the right direction. “Hardly, I just wanted to dance with a companion who wasn’t trying to win my hand in marriage.”

The song ended as applause echoed throughout the room. The next song was slower. Talhan pulled Rua in closer to his body, warmth seeping from his burgundy tunic. His hand drifted down to her lower back just as the scent of cloves and snow hit Rua, and Talhan paused. “May I cut in?” a voice sounded behind her, making her whole body go still. “Of course, I can’t be too selfish hoarding the best dancer all night.” Talhan winked at Rua while she gave him a cutting look, her eyes accusing him of abandoning her.

“May I have this dance?” Renwick whispered, the muscle in his cheek flickering as that memory of them smiling at each other from the ceremony played over in Rua’s mind. She already felt pulled under his spell. The impact of his stare was far greater than being tumbled in a torrent of snow. “Yes,” she murmured,

“Not that being a good person keeps you alive,” she ground out as she stared everywhere but at him. “You think steeling their hearts with bitterness would have saved them?” Renwick asked incredulously. “You think trusting no one would have helped? Do you think they would have traded their years of happiness for another century of darkness?” Darkness. That is what lived inside her.

“Do you always smell like winter forests?” “What?” “That’s your scent: like cloves and snow.” Rua looked up to see Renwick’s eyes widening as his lips pulled up slightly to the sides. Rua felt her cheeks burning. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it. “You smell like spring in Murreneir,” Renwick said, cutting off her embarrassed thoughts.

“You smell like wildflowers and fresh spring rains . . .” His eyes dropped down to her lips. “You smell like home.” Her lips parted as she let out a jagged breath. She smelled like home to him. Home. It was a place she didn’t have. But in the recesses of her mind, she knew home smelled like cloves and snowy forests.

Swirling her foot in the open air, she wondered what it would feel like to fall, when a sharp voice pulled her back into her body. “Get down. Now.” Rua glanced over her shoulder to find Renwick taking up the doorframe, fists clenched at his sides. He looked at her with a mixture of anger and terror that she would choose to dangle herself over the balcony. “I’m fine here,” Rua said. “I won’t fall.” “Your arms are trembling,” Renwick noted, glancing down at her goose-pimpled flesh. He unbuttoned his jacket even as he spoke. “Are you coming down or am I joining you on the ledge?” Cheeks dimpling, Rua rolled her eyes and swung her legs back over the balcony. She slid down until her bare feet touched the cold stone. “They fell off,” Rua said with a shrug, following Renwick’s gaze to her feet. “I’m sure.” Renwick glided forward, wrapping his jacket around Rua,

“What are you thinking about?” Rua whispered, already knowing the answer. “Do you want the polite answer or the real one?” Renwick smirked, cocking his head slightly, his lips a hair’s breadth away. “Real one. Always.” “I’m thinking about taking you against the railing.” Renwick's breath skittered across her cheeks. Rua’s eyes narrowed at him, desperate to have something overtake the hollowness she felt. “Do it, then,” she said. Renwick’s eyes widened as he dropped his hold on his jacket. He retreated a step, creating space between them again. “No.”

“That’s not who I want to be to you, Rua. I don’t want to be your diversion.” “What in the Gods’ names do you want from me, then?” Rua shouted, her restraint finally untethered. “Because you are never willing to say it.” Enough of these ridiculous games. “I want every part of you.” There was no hesitation in his voice this time, nothing holding him back. “I want every beautiful dark corner of your soul.”

He thought her darkness was beautiful? That it wasn’t a void to be filled or gotten rid of? She swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head, refusing to hear it. He took a ragged breath. “I will wait for all of you.” Rua steeled her gaze as she said, “You will be waiting forever.” Renwick’s eyes swept over her again. She couldn’t bear that look. He looked at her like she was already whole, and she feared if she stayed a second longer she’d start believing it too.

“Forever then, so long as I’m beside you.”

The Eagle’s golden gaze looked hungrily at the Western guard. In the blink of an eye, she grabbed Delta’s face and pulled her into a burning kiss. Delta didn’t miss a beat, encircling Bri’s waist and spinning her to the wall, arms bracketing beside her head as she pinned Bri with her muscled body. Delta broke their kiss only long enough to murmur “I missed you” across Bri’s parted lips and then began fumbling for the door handle.

“You see that?” Bern said, tipping his head to the window as songs swelled up from below them, chants and prayers welcoming the new light. “The sun?” Rua arched her eyebrow as she stared at the golden glow. “It’s a promise of another day, Rua,” Bern said, tapping his fingers to his forehead as he spoke his Ific prayer to the God of the Sun: “the sun will keep rising and so too shall we all.”

How far could she go without that leaden weight? She would try one simple thing first and see where to go from there. Wrapping her arms around Bern, she pulled him into a hug. She felt his smile as he rested his chin on her shoulder. Holding him tightly, she let the tears fall down her cheeks, a dam broken by the shining rays of sunlight. Bern stroked a comforting hand down her back, holding her just as tightly with the other, and she knew he was hugging her, not just for himself, but for Raffiel as well. He carried part of Raffiel’s soul within himself, his Fated’s life bound together with his own. Rua imagined Raffiel’s arms around her too, and she hugged Bern in the way she wished she could have hugged her elder brother before he died.

“Rua?” His eyes widened, suddenly more awake at the sight of her. She did not waste time with pleasantries and simply said, “I want to go back to Murreneir. Now.” Renwick’s emerald eyes assessed her for a moment, but all he said was, “Okay. Let’s go.” A heavy breath loosed from Rua’s lips. She was prepared to convince him, ready to launch into a tirade about Augustus Norwood and all of the awful things he could be doing obscured from the witches’ Sight. Still, it was a harebrained thing to demand to leave immediately, but he instantly agreed. “Thank you,” she said, hands trembling. “Will you be all right to go get your things? I’ll organize people to come collect it and ready the carriages.” His eyes scanned her as if he were looking for an injury. “Yes, that will be fine,” she breathed, heart ratcheting up into her throat.

Before she could give it another thought, her hands reached out, grabbing Renwick’s neck. She lifted on tiptoes as she pulled his face toward hers. Her lips molded with his in a burning kiss. Renwick stayed frozen in a split second of surprise before his hands wrapped around her back and pulled her chest to his, an approving hum rumbling through him. Tingles skittered through Rua’s body at that warm, tender kiss. Rua had the urge to keep going, to see where that kiss might lead them, but that would have to wait. She pulled her face away and dropped back down onto flat feet. “I’ll go get my things,” she said with a coy smirk. Emerald eyes gleamed at her. Renwick’s lips parted as he nodded.

As she turned to leave, a hasty hand on the crook of her arm pulled her back, and those full lips were on hers once more. It was a fleeting kiss, but one that set her on fire. “I’ll meet you at the side entrance by the stables,” Renwick said, resting his forehead on hers. She had never before seen a smile like that on his face. It was open and genuine—real happiness that neither of them permitted themselves. It was enough.

Its lock was still carved with the old Northern Court crest. She should probably request a new one. She pulled up short at that thought. The lock she imagined was Renwick’s new crest: the sword through the crown. She had not imagined The High Mountain crest of the crown over mountains. Her hands shook again as she felt the echoes of that kiss on her lips. She still smelt the snowy evergreen scent in her hair. It frightened her and excited her all at once—she would rather belong to the new Northern Court than to the High Mountain one.

Aneryn beside him, arms folded across her chest. “You really thought you could leave without me?” She scolded Rua over her heavy, glowing blue eyes. “Me?” “I suppose not.” Rua chuckled. “We would have sent word back for the rest of you. I figured you would want to rest first. When you told me that you couldn’t See Augutus Norwood, I panicked. I just . . . needed to get out of this place. I wanted to go—” Rua didn’t finish the thought, though they all seemed to know what she was about to say: home. She wanted to go home. Murreneir was the first time she felt like she was free to be herself.

Renwick’s cheeks dimpled as he watched that realization crossing her face. She wanted to stay in Murreneir. She wanted her life to be there. Aneryn turned to the entryway table and set down two silver druni. They called it a witch’s goodbye. They would see the druni coins and know she was gone.

“You stay away from my sister,” she snarled as Renwick eyed the blade warily. “Remy,” Hale said quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Remy’s eyes widened as Rua stepped between Renwick and the blade. Rua stared into her sister’s eyes, the same eyes as hers and their mother’s. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Remy,” Rua said in a low and lethal voice, casting out her own red magic and forcing Remy’s dagger to the ground. Its loud clang against the stone floor echoed in the tense silence.

She had been so moved to make the most of this one day, and only a handful of minutes later she was already failing. Rua gritted her teeth. “Curse the fucking Gods,” she muttered under her breath and turned again before she could think about it more. She barreled into Remy, wrapping her sister into a tight hug. Remy didn’t even pause, dragging her in tighter. Pulling away just enough to see her sister’s face, Rua said, “I love you, Remy. And I will see you again soon.” She gave her sister one more tight squeeze and left. Remy let her go, saying nothing more than, “I love you too, Rua. Be safe.” Her cracking voice echoed after Rua into the stables.

Renwick and Aneryn climbing in after her. Neither of them took the opposite bench, sandwiching Rua between the two of them so that their arms all pressed together, their closeness a seeming acknowledgment of how difficult that was for her. Renwick reached down and threaded his warm fingers through hers. The feeling of the heat from his palm eased the trembling through Rua’s limbs.

“Mother Moon, I’m tired,” Aneryn said through another yawn, resting her head down on Rua’s shoulder as she had done for most of the journey to Yexshire. The rhythmic rocking of the carriage lulled her heavier into sleep. “Me too,” Rua murmured, head bobbing forward until Renwick placed a gentle hand on her forehead and guided her head to his shoulder. Rua made a sleepy hum as her eyes fluttered closed, tucking her face into his neck as his scent wrapped around her. Renwick softly chuckled as he brushed a kiss to her temple.

She saw the shame burning hot across his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” Were they both beyond forgiveness for all their wicked deeds? He turned to leave, but she placed a hand on his shoulder, making him pause. “We are as wicked as each other, remember?” She forced a smile, even though she felt all his sadness. It was the thing that linked them together more than anything else: the shame of their actions, the feeling that they would never be who they wanted to be. Rua felt it in him as acutely as she felt it in herself.

Cupping her cheek, he softly kissed her forehead. “I don’t deserve your kindness.” Rua laughed gently, resting her forehead back against Renwick’s lips. “Nor I yours.” “Let’s go inside!” Aneryn called, trudging around the corner. “It’s colder than—” She paused when she saw them. “Oh Gods, you’re not kissing, are you?” The two of them chuckled. “No, Aneryn,” Renwick said, cheeks dimpling. The look of his happiness reminded Rua, once again, to release that tightness in her chest. Threading his fingers through hers, Renwick led her back to the castle.

Rua braced herself as she said, “Hello?” “What the fuck were you thinking?” It was Bri. Rua’s stomach dropped. “Hi, Bri.” “Don’t you hi me,” Bri snarled. “I’m meant to be protecting you, Rua, and you left in the middle of the night without even telling me. And now Norwood is—”

“The Fates have chosen you too,” Baba Airu said. “No,” Rua breathed before Baba Airu finished her sentence. She had feared this moment might be real. She was terrified of what the High Priestess might say next. Once the words were spoken, they could never be unheard. “We have Seen it, Ruadora: a Dammacus leader on our throne . . . alongside her Fated.” Rua’s heart stopped beating. Fated.

“They have woven your Fate with his long before either of you were born. It is our most powerful magic. Saying ‘no’ changes nothing.” “It can’t be true.” Rua sucked in a gasp of air. Her whole body felt weightless. “How could no one know?” Baba Airu folded her hands in her lap. “That is a question for your King.” Rua froze. “Does he know?” “He does.”

couldn’t hide away from it any longer. “Did he kill her?” Rua panted. “He killed a lot of people to keep his secret . . . your secret,” Baba Airu said. Rua felt her throat constricting as if a hand was squeezing her airways shut. She shook her head in disbelief. “He killed witches to keep them from telling his father that we were Fated?” Rua took a ragged breath.

“Yes, and he killed witches so they wouldn’t tell his father why they couldn’t See his Fate.” “What?” Rua’s whole body was trembling now. “Why couldn’t they See his Fate?” Baba Airu lifted her hand to her chest. She traced her finger around the ring in her totem bag. The silence stretched out for so long that Rua wondered if the High Priestess wouldn’t answer. When she finally spoke, Rua couldn’t brace herself for what she said, “Because blue witches can’t See the Fates of other blue witches.”