“That doesn’t take too much of your energy, does it?” I ask, panting.
“Not at all.”
Her circle of light falls onto a door at the bottom of the stairs. A lock hangs from the latch handle.
“Allow me to deal with this one, so you can keep your power ready for whatever might await us on the other side, all right?” I ask.
“You just want to show off.”
“A little.”
I back up and then run at the door. I ram my shoulder into the heavy wood and the hinges snap and come free. I shove the broken door aside, and Tully enters. I’m on her heels as she rushes down a corridor with her circle of magical light to lead the way.
A large storage room packed with barrels and crates sits at the end of the corridor. Shouts rise behind us. The guards will be here soon.
In the center of the room, a small table holds all three artifacts.
Tully eyes the dark corners of the room and I raise my head to sniff the air. I don’t have the sense of smell that some Veil creatures do, but I can usually pick up something.
I hear a shuffle. A body hits my side. I grunt and turn, swinging a fist blindly in the near dark.
A wave of fatigue sweeps over my body. It’s like weights have been lashed to every one of my limbs, to my eyelids, to my back. I drop to my knees, then I begin dreaming.
Tully’s voice, tight and angry, flows above me. Hands are pulling me up. I’m trying to help them, trying to walk on my own.
Then there is light.
I squeeze my eyes shut against it because all I want is darkness and sleep. I blink. Colors blur. I can smell Tully all around me. I think I’m in her house. My eyes shut and I give in to the dark.
Chapter 21
Tully
In my workroom off the side of the house, I pour a vial of moonlight-infused defense potion into my small cauldron. The contents hiss and release a stream of pale smoke. The pink and sparkling blend smells of its varied contents—sage, salt, parsley, and the magic I add with an old spell my grandwitch taught me. I add another heater below the cauldron. The diminutive oil lamp heaters were handed down to me and have lasted over six generations of witches.
“What happened?” Argos’s voice has me turning around. Propped up on his elbows on the cot in the corner, he looks dazed.
Lady Owl is perched on the half-open door to my kitchen. She eyes Argos.
“Our plan did not play out the way we wanted,” I explain.
“I assumed as much from the bump on my head and the way I feel.”
“Your fatigue isn’t from the physical attack. Yes, the thieves surprised us, but the mirror and the stones attacked us all.”
“How? Why aren’t you suffering? Is it the jewelry I made for you?”
“Yes, yes. You saved me. Thank you very much.”
“Wow. I didn’t think I’d hear that anytime soon.”
I snort and add a vial of green mist that I gathered two years ago in the northwest marshes. It helps potions sneak into bloodstreams and helps my clients’ bodies accept the magic. The cauldron gurgles loudly. That means it’s working.
“The mirror and the stones have apparently latched onto every Veil creature that was within a quarter mile when the thieves attempted to work the stones and strike out at us,” I say, my voice shaking slightly. I truly hope this day doesn’t end in a widespread tragedy.
“Who are they?”
“The thieves? Oh, an orc and a human male. Not locals. You knocked the human out with your fist if my guess is right. It was dark, so I’m not completely certain. The mirror and stones took care of the orc and also you thereafter, unfortunately. I fetched every human available in town to help me get you here and to check on and keep watch over Rustion and all the other Veil creatures the artifacts are draining.”
