Coven of Swords

Chapter 1 Trip

The winter's icy embrace caught up to us this morning. We spent the last two weeks trying to find a cover in the woods, to get away from hunters. They were on our heals, wishing to give our ashes to the wind. And every second I was praising the gods for giving us one more day without snow. But this morning we woke up to the first feathery snowflakes spiraling towards the ground.

Heavy Atti's footsteps were registering on the back of my mind as I looked for the safer path through the debris. I couldn't allow him to fall on the sleety soil. Especially when he was carrying Art on his shoulders.

I squeezed my daughter's hand tighter, and she faintly gasped. For the last half an hour, Arlene hung off my hand, like a little sack of potatoes. And she wasn't even complaining. My children have learned to stay quiet since the start of this journey. And this weighed me down more than carrying our belongings or worrying about our next meal.

"Ari, let's rest near that tree."

I nodded and headed toward the solid looking fallen giant. After spreading a blanket on the log and taking out some food I finally lowered down to give my legs some rest. My son reached out for his toy in Atti's bag, but I cut him off and placed a piece of bread in his hand. Atti was towering above us, a heavy gaze fixed on the forest.

"I'll go see what's ahead. It's getting dark and we should find a better cover for the night."

"That's a good plan, Love. Just be careful."

Atti kissed my hand and disappeared into the forest ahead.

My instincts were silent. They were dormant ever since we left the village. As if the disease that killed almost everyone in our settlement took my gift away, too.

I sighted, afraid to show my despair to the kids.

Late winters are always fast at sprouting their freezing palps through the Island. We had to find shelter.

I sent a wave of magic to reactivate runes of heat on my children's clothes. Without my force, we would already be dead. Maby even from the Black Death that moronic village chair brought to our land.

A distant triple owl hoot made me squeeze my hands. Atti signed to follow him. My legs stiffened up, and I had to use my hands to push myself off the log.

I activated the rune of strength on my undershirt once again. There was a powerful source somewhere nearby. Because I felt no signs of exhaustion from all the magic casting.

Art chewed his last bite and climbed up onto my shoulders. I refreshed the strength rune on Arlene's shirt, too.

Following my husband's steps, we reached the narrowing in between two heels. It seemed unnatural how old oak cut the path, landing from the top of one hill right on the top of the other one. The biggest beaver I ever saw peeked from behind the split trunk.

"Stupid witch," he barfed at me.

Tracing my husband's footprints with the corner of an eye, I stopped. Talking animals were rare, but not unheard of. Of course, only people with powers could hear them. My mother's cat was the chattiest animal I knew. And he appreciated a good listener. From his words, all our neighbour cats were loudmouths.

"Hey, dummy."

Bever jumped on the log and run until he reached and sat staring right into my eyes.

"Yes..."

"No witch should pass this log—trust me."

"Why is that?"

"It's dangerous, silly. If you value your sound mind, you will not go any further!"