The Elf Witch |Book 1|

Chapter 5

—Thunder rumbled closer, and the building shook again. Every reverberation made her stomach lurch.

"Everyone is talking about the Fabric event. I thought..." Meira's brow furrowed as she trailed off. Imani knew what she'd thought. The Aowyn sisters had witnessed one other Fabric event this close before—and it had been devastating. Meira pointed at Imani's chest. "If you'd been home on time, I wouldn't have brought him tonight."

"There were so many fires. I stayed to help." The lie slipped out as she reached for her sister's hand.

"Do they know who cast the magic?"

Meira shook her head. "We—or I'm the only one wielding magic for miles," she said, clearing her throat.

"As far as we know."

"Could it be another fugitive? A visitor?"

"I'm not sure," Imani lied again.

A boisterous, drunken song got louder by the bar, saving her from lying more to her sister. Stumbling footsteps followed the singing.

"Oi, Imani! Come have a drink with us," Ren, her brother's best friend, shouted.

"You know you want to," Dak sang.

She fought a smile and rolled her eyes. Dak was a terrible singer. "You boys are sixteen years old and should be home," Imani hollered as she folded her arms.

"We won't accept no for an answer," Ren said, spreading his arms wide. Dak waved at her with a crooked grin.

Imani brushed her sister off and made her way through the crowd before sighing and plopping down next to the pair. "How long have you two been here? All afternoon?" Dak's silver-blond hair was curly and messy. Ren's brown eyes drank her in as he leaned on his forearm against the creaky bar, more to help him remain upright than to look handsome.

On her first day as her brother's guardian, he got inebriated in a tavern. Marvelous.

She needed a drink of her own. Elyon must have expected her because he lifted his chin without surprise and served her a glass of whiskey wordlessly. She enjoyed the warmth as soon as it hit her throat.

A tiny, mousy woman, clearly another Naiad, emerged from upstairs. A bright purple patchwork of marks branded her wrist and hand. It matched Elyon's, signaling a binding brand between them. It was new; she'd never seen it before on Elyon.

He'd found his heartmate. Interesting.

Even more interesting was that she could sense their signatures for the first time in her life. That brought a smile to her face. The more magic someone possessed, the easier it was for them to detect less powerful witches while easily hiding their signature from anyone weaker.

As they ordered food, almost everyone in the pub gossiped about the storm.

"Do they suspect someone around here performed that intense magic?"—

—"But, of course, it had to be more than one person. No one possesses magic like that anymore."

Imani silently agreed with these comments. Although she was now a witch with seven brands – a seven-mark – she couldn't have caused this alone. Unless the Fabric's destabilization had worsened.

A man set his glass on the bar and leaned forward, watching it get refilled. "Elyon, what do you know about this storm? They say we'll be under the cover of darkness soon, and there's nothing the high and mighty master witches at the Order can do about it."

A woman chimed in, pointing her glass at the man. "Aye, a reckoning is coming soon. Working at the docks, you hear all kinds of happenings. Not just about this red moon we've been having, but worse magic coming back."