The Elf Witch |Book 1|

Chapter 34

Amongst the shouts and jeers, the fire started crackling below. But, unlike Ara, Master Selhey didn't stay silent.

When he began to burn, the male wood elf let out a howl that chilled her worse than the frigid rain pelting her face. She had never heard his voice even raised, let alone sound so anguished. She felt it in her bones.

With horror raging inside her, Imani hugged herself.

Soon his entire body went up in flames. Black smoke from his body lifted into the wind. Then ashes danced onto the flagstones.

The Queen's eyes glowed, reflecting the firelight, and all the while, Imani's teacher—her friend—burned alive. Suddenly Dialora's gaze shifted, and her sharp, cold eyes pierced into Tanyl and then Imani with a warning—a warning for the only other people who had questioned her recently.

While the crowd thinned, Imani remained in her seat. She stayed until they doused the smoldering flames and cleared away the remains. Flesh hung in some parts from the bones, charred and black, but the rest of his features—twisted in horror though they were—were entirely distinguishable, at least to her.

The spirit lingered above the square, and for a moment, Imani wondered if it recognized her.

But then it disappeared.

- - -

With her second Assessment looming, Tanyl and Imani remained silent in the coach on the long meandering way up to the palace.

Her muscles seemed permanently tensed, unable to unfurl themselves from attack mode.

Everything burned. Imani's insides, her muscles, her skin. Everything.

Folding her arms across her chest, Imani hit the prince with a knowing look. "So, the rumors about her opinion of you are true?"

Shouts from the streets below and the sounds from the horses drifted into the coach as they both stared at each other. "Indeed. My position as Heir Apparent is precarious at best these days." Tanyl leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "She's been quietly planning for me not to inherit while keeping me prepared for appearance's sake."

"You've also been playing both sides, though," Imani probed, hoping for some intel.

He quirked a brow but didn't respond directly. "Time is running out. You've seen Niflheim's power firsthand, and it's only multiplying."

"Even if the royals are immune, we can find a way to use magic to overpower their army."

"That used to be true, but they've been breeding the immunity into their ranks for the past hundred years. They use this army to control their population, but they will also be used against us when the time comes," he lowered his voice.

"Do the rest of their breeds possess as much magic as ours?"

"No, but as you know, it's atrophic magic—far more deadly," he laughed with derision.

"I'm going to be blunt and ask for the truth, Tanyl. Rumors say the prince is a twelve-mark. Is he?"

"You're referring to Kiran? That serpentine bastard...." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It's highly likely since his father made him First Witch, despite despising his youngest."

"He wanted a female elf."

"Correct. Magnus would have much preferred a daughter with a powerful feeding draw he could use or another high-bred shifter since he sees magic beneath him. Anyone using magic over physical strength is lazy and unworthy, and he propagates an anti-magic culture. How powerful Kiran is will never matter because the King and Saevel use their shifted forms to keep him on a tight leash."