The Elf Witch |Book 1|

Chapter 5

Clutching the last book of parchments of spells Ara made before her arrest, Imani made her way to the industrial lot by the river.

The lot sat next to an old but well-maintained tavern owned by a common Naiad. Common and low-bred Naiads were usually unpleasant. But she preferred dealing with them over hobs, who were generally nasty and tricky. The exception was Riona, but even she had a volatile personality. At least with the Commons and Lows she knew what to expect.

She weaved in between the massive barges it housed, feeling exposed despite cleaning off the ash as best she could and changing clothes in the shop. Her whole body trembled.

More thunder rumbled overhead. Fear gripped her heart tighter after she'd witnessed the ramifications of her magic. Murdering Malis was one thing, but causing a Fabric event was not in her plans. With magic already so unstable and disappearing, the consequences terrified her.

The darker it got without the familiar lights of the Fabric dancing overhead, the more anxious she felt.

After what she'd done, she felt utterly unprepared to take on her new role. But now that magic and their family's business were in her grasp—how could she let it go? She had Dak and Meira to take care of too.

With deep breaths, Imani reminded herself that she knew every customer, every tactic, and all the magic. She'd participated in thousands of transactions and watched her grandmother day in and day out for years.

Scrubbing her hands down her face, she thought about how disgusted Ara and Riona would be at her failing, and she wished again her friend was here.

The dark wooden tavern door groaned as Imani pushed it open. People were drunk and boisterous, enjoying the tavern's warm fires and meals. Her ears flicked back and forth at the loud volume. Imani resisted the urge to cover them as she started making her way to the back kitchen.

Meira exited the kitchens, wand in hand. Worry radiated from her, paling her perfect skin into a dull gray. Her gaze landed on Imani, and she rushed to her side.

"Imani? Where have you been? Why is there soot and blood on you?" Meira's eyes were alarmingly blue tonight, too—wide and unsettling.

Another clap of thunder sounded, and they both gasped at the sound.

Without a word, Imani walked to the nearby hearth and massaged her shaking hands by the fire.

She'd never expected her sister to be here. Imani didn't want them to see her on a collection. She didn't want them to see her at all right now. Also, telling her siblings the truth put them in danger because they needed plausible deniability if the constable questioned them.

Meira conjured a warm washcloth with a snap of her wand as her mouth thinned into a disapproving line. "This is from the burning, isn't it? I wish you hadn't gone," she muttered, dabbing the remnants of Malis's body off Imani's neck. "We should've spent the day together, just the three of us."

Shutting her eyes, Imani remained quiet while Meira cleaned up her cheeks. Then, framing Imani's face with her hands, Meira gave her a once over and whispered, "Your illusion is slipping, liebe. Let me help."

Before Meira could cast the spell, Imani grabbed her wrist and shook her head. She didn't want any more magic than necessary being pulled right now.

"It's fine. I'm going home after I talk to Elyon anyway. Where's Dak?"

Narrowing her eyes, Meira tugged her wrist away. "He's here. Where have you been, by the way?"

"Here? Gods, Meira, I didn't think you'd rush off to work a shift in the kitchens. They'll live without magic for one night—"