Chapter One
“So these witches . . . will they look like you?”
I ignored Tholdri glancing me up and down. He was only joking. I just wished I could appreciate
his attempt at levity. As it stood, my stomach was tied up in knots.
I gripped the ends of my reins, peering up at the mountainside. My horse waited close behind
me, her lips skimming the ground for something to eat. The witches would have spotted us by
now. As instructed by Cael, we had dismounted to show our trust. Now, we would wait.
“It must have taken years to haul all that stone up the mountainside.” Tholdri stood casually,
though I didn’t miss the tension in his jaw. There was no saying how the witches would accept
us, two hunters—though we had left our armor behind.
“They had strong magic, once upon a time. Perhaps they used it to construct the fortress.”
Because I could see no other way. Imposing stone towers rose straight out of the steep incline
near the mountain’s peak. The surrounding walls were higher than those of Castle Helius, which
was impressive. From our vantage point, we could see nothing beyond them.
“Do you think they’ve noticed us, or . . . ”
I cut Tholdri off with a sharp look. “Cael said to wait.”
“He also hasn’t been out here since he was young. That was a long time ago.” His golden hair
fluttered in the breeze, skimming broad shoulders clad in thick blue linen. His fur-lined cloak was
draped over his saddle. It was cold in the mountains.
I sucked my teeth, too nervous to give him further assurance. We had arrived at midday. Asher
and Cael would be resting for some hours yet. We were on our own with the witches, as
planned. Arriving with two vampires would only hurt our chances.
I straightened my green silk shirt, feeling ridiculous for wearing my finest clothing with more
simple attire waiting in my saddlebags. The witches wouldn’t care what I looked like. They would
only care about the blood running through my veins. Blackmire blood. If I weren’t a vampire’s
human servant, they would accept me with open arms.
But I was a servant, more than a servant, to an ancient vampire. It complicated things.
A cool breeze gusted us, carrying no sound from the mountaintop. The fortress seemed
abandoned, but Cael had warned me it was only an illusion. He had also said that we could only
see it at all because we knew what we were looking for. Others might walk by and only see
inhospitable mountains.
A throat cleared behind us and we both spun, startling our horses. The woman standing just a
few paces away was small, probably a whole head shorter than me. She wore a deep purple
gown beneath a long matching coat with a high collar. Black fur bristled beneath the collar
against her brown skin. Her silver-streaked black hair fell in tight curls down to her waist.
I stared at her, trying to figure out how she had snuck up so easily. The landscape was barren.
There were no places to hide. We should have heard her.
“Am I supposed to believe that you are a Blackmire witch?” She raised a brow at my braid. “The
color is accurate, I’ll give you that.”
I stiffened at her words. “And you are?” I bit my tongue too late. Cael had impressed upon me
the importance of being polite, but I didn’t like being snuck up on.
“Drucida, high witch of the stronghold you’ve been gawking at.” She stepped closer, the
movement smooth and sinuous. I placed her around sixty, but she moved like a woman half her
age. Her eyes roved over me like I was a prized mare. “Ah, there is a bit of magic there, buried
deep.” Her gaze caught on the hilt of my sword. “And that’s interesting.”
I unclenched my fists from my horse’s reins. Polite, I was supposed to be polite. I dipped my
head in a slight bow. “My name is Lyssandra Yonvrode. My mother was Alicia Bouenoire, and
her father was Cedrik Bouenoire.”
Her eyes widened briefly. “Was? You would like me to believe that Cedrik is dead?”
“Believe what you like. It is the truth.”
There was a hardening in her expression. The news of my grandfather’s death had unsettled
her. She turned her attention to Tholdri, who straightened and lifted his chin under her too-heavy
gaze. “And who is this?”
“My lifelong friend, Tholdri Radran.”
She laced her hands together, hiding them beneath the black fur at her sleeves, then stared at
us for a good long while. Nothing moved except the breeze.
Just when I was at my breaking point, she finally spoke. “What is it that you want, Lyssandra
Yonvrode?”
My first instinct was to lie, but Cael had warned me to speak only truth. “An ancient
vampire—the first vampire—has been released. I would like to learn magic so that I might slay
him.”
“No,” she answered instantly.
“No what?”
“No, you may not learn magic. Cedrik fled this order. He hid his daughter from us, just as he hid
you. You are not welcome here, Lyssandra Yonvrode.”
I glanced at Tholdri, but he seemed to be equally at a loss, so I handed him my reins and
stepped toward Drucida. I had tried being polite, but politeness was overrated. “I apologize, but I
am not able to take no for an answer.” I loomed over her. “I will slay Eiric, and you will help me
do it, unless you want this land to fall into total darkness.”
I was used to smaller people being intimidated by my height, but Drucida didn’t so much as
flinch. “You believe I care for the fate of the Ebon Province?” She stepped even closer, craning
her neck upward. This close, I could see flecks of gold in her eyes. She smelled strongly of sage
and woodsmoke. “Have you ever watched someone close to you as they burned alive?” Her
voice lowered. “Have you listened as the surrounding cheers drowned out your sisters’
screams?”
If she wanted to shock me, she was trying it with the wrong woman. I tilted my head down,
bringing us eye to eye. “I never learned why my parents were burned alive. Why I returned
home to find nothing but ash and smoldering embers. I didn’t hear their screams, but the end
result was the same. I might not have known what blood flows through my veins, but I have paid
the price many times over.”
Tholdri stood back, not saying a word. He knew I was beyond the point of being reasoned with
regardless. We had journeyed too far and waited too long to be so casually dismissed.
Drucida narrowed her eyes like she might read my mind. Like she might root out whatever she
thought I was hiding. “There is death to you. Not just loss, but death. Necromancy?”
“Guess again.”
“You’re not a vampire.”
I didn’t want to tell her the truth, but she would have to know eventually. If me being a human
servant was blocking my magic, she would have to know. “I am a vampire’s human servant, but
I maintain my free will.”
“That’s not possible.”
She really had lost touch with my grandfather. She didn’t know about him making his hunters
into human servants. “Everything I have told you is the truth. You may not care for the Ebon
Province, but the one I hunt still concerns you. He killed my grandfather, and if he wants
something from the witches, he’ll kill you too. No one is safe. No one is strong enough.”
Her expression softened slightly at my words. “When was Cedrik killed?”
“Not but a week ago.”
“And this vampire, the one you hunt. This creature killed him?”
I nodded.
She watched me for a long moment. “Do you know why?”
I hesitated. On that matter, I had only speculation. “I believe it is because my grandfather
worked to keep the vampire imprisoned, but I cannot be sure. Perhaps his motive was
something other than vengeance.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I will hear your tale, but nothing more.” She breezed past me toward the
distant fortress.
When I turned to keep her in my sights, she was gone.
Tholdri stared at the space she should have occupied. “What exactly just happened?”
I held out my hand for my reins. “I think we just received our invitation to the witches’ fortress.”
* * *
The sun had shifted in the sky by the time we reached the fortress, casting harsh shadows
across the rocky ground. I hadn’t really expected Drucida to be waiting for us, but I had
expected more than the nervous young girl wringing her hands, glancing back at the tall iron
gates like they might save her. Bordering the gates were two stone sentry towers. I caught a
flicker of movement in one. Someone watching, but remaining out of sight.
The girl seemed relieved when she spotted us, but then her dark eyes grew more pinched the
closer we came. Thin, mousy brown hair was cut just below her sharp chin. The rest of her was
swallowed up within an oversized midnight blue robe.
Despite all the extra fabric, she shivered as we came to stand before her, leading our horses
behind us since the rocky incline had been too steep for riding.
“I didn’t think it would take so long or I wouldn’t have waited out here all this time.” Her wide
eyes and hunched shoulders took any possible sting out of her words. She was putting on a
brave face, but she was obviously terrified. Just what had Drucida told her?
“My apologies for not scaling an entire mountain more quickly.” I smiled, liking the odd girl.
Blinking a little too rapidly, she looked at Tholdri. “He’ll have to wait out here.”
“Why didn’t Drucida say that before?”
She turned those wide eyes back toward me. “It was implied.”
I adjusted my sword strap, then crossed my arms. I had donned my heavy cloak during the
walk, tossing it back behind my shoulders when I started to sweat.
She blinked at me a few more times. “He can’t come in.”
I continued staring at her while Tholdri did his best to look harmless. Difficult—since he was a
tall, muscular warrior, but he managed.
She glanced at the gates behind her. The sentry in the tower had peeked his head out, but now
the young man was pretending not to look at us.
I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “I don’t think he’s going to help you.”
She audibly gulped. “Illya won’t like me letting him in,” she whispered.
And here I’d thought it was Drucida being difficult. “You just let me deal with Illya.”
“Are you really a Blackmire witch?”
It didn’t feel entirely like the truth, but I nodded.
“Alright,” she breathed.
She waved at the young man, who had finally started looking directly at us. He nodded,
gestured to someone else, then a pulley sounded and the gates opened outward.
I wasn’t sure what they were all so worried about. We hadn’t seen a village in days. I traveled
extensively and had no idea such a fortress existed. As far as anyone was concerned, all
witches were long gone. They could have no gates and no walls, and still would see no trouble.
The girl turned and hurried through the gates without another word. I realized I had neglected to
catch her name.
Glancing at Tholdri, I started forward, nervous but almost . . . excited. Drucida at least had
known the Potentate, my grandfather. With his death, I had thought so many answers lost to
me. But maybe they weren’t. Maybe I could still learn something more than the scraps of
information Cael had divulged during our travel.
The girl led us down a cobbled street, and I found myself once again amazed by the scope of
the fortress. More than a fortress. It was an entire village protected by high walls, like a
miniature version of Silgard. The homes we passed had stone foundations with whitewashed
walls built from sturdy lumber—though where they had obtained lumber in the barren landscape
was beyond me. Maybe things looked different on the other side of the mountain.
I caught a few people observing us as we passed, and I wondered if they were all witches.
Surely there couldn’t be so many, hidden away all these years.
Tholdri moved close to my shoulder. “How is all of this here? How can no one know about this?”
The sound of our horses’ hooves on the cobbles nearly drowned out his words.
Just as well, since I had no answer for him. The only explanation was magic, but I knew so little
about it. I had no idea what these witches were capable of.
At one time, fear of the unknown would have kept me away from such a fortress. We were
vulnerable, at the mercy of magic wielders. But avoiding possible threats was no longer a luxury
I could afford. Not with Eiric free to kill as he pleased. I knew without a doubt that my
grandfather was only the beginning.
Our guide stopped at a central home, larger than the rest. She turned toward us and bowed her
head. “Drucida and Illya are inside.” Her eyes shifted from side to side, then she stood up on her
toes to whisper in my ear. “Don’t make Illya angry. You’ll pay for it.” She lowered onto her heels,
then took our horses’ reins and scurried away, her too-large robe flapping around her.
I gave Tholdri a wary look.
He gestured toward the aged wooden door. “We’ve come this far, Lyss. No turning back now.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not asking to become one of them.”
I reached for the door handle before I could think better of it. At least my sword wasn’t warning
me. No one in the village meant me harm—yet. Their opinions of me might change once I asked
them to allow two vampires into their stronghold. They would likely cast me out entirely.
But I at least had to try. ...
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