To overthrow the cruel King who brutally slaughtered her foremothers, the last surviving water witch Elara Consuli must team up with novice warrior Juda Vikaris from the Serpent Order and realise an ancient prophecy, before the blood-thirsty ruler d...
"He sold us out..." Anton murmured. "That fucker actually sold us out."
But Elara could not speak. She could barely breathe. Pain wracked her chest. Crushed her lungs.
Kelena grasped onto her arm, pulling her close. "We need to leave...now!" she added with a hiss.
When she did not—could not— move, Kelena slipped one arm around her, fingers digging into Elara's shoulder, but Elara could barely feel it. Her whole body was numb. She could feel nothing from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. Nothing apart from the agony that threatened to tear her heart into pieces.
"We have to leave...Anton, help me!"
Kelena's voice was desperate, pleading, and Elara wrenched her gaze from the man standing on the platform—the man she had briefly known, the man she had allowed to know her—and stared into her friend's face. Her vision blurred with hot tears.
Kelena gripped her arm and moved in front. "We don't have time for that," she said, even though her own eyes were glassy. "Give him nothing now but give yourself a fucking chance. Do you hear me?"
A scream broke through the noise, and Elara turned to see a woman being dragged through the crowd, the people grabbing her, lifting her off her feet. She kicked and struggled against them, tears streaming down her face, her terrified wails carrying over their heads.
"This is her!"
"We have her...the fucking witch. We have her!"
Frozen, Elara watched as the woman—who absolutely wasn't a witch—was carried past her, her pleading, petrified eyes meeting Elara's as she was swept forward and thrown onto the stone steps in front of the Druvari. The snap of bone made Elara flinch. The woman's wrist most likely, from the way she had landed, her body crumpled, her hand twisted beneath her.
Two Highguards grabbed her, one by her hair, the other clutching her injured wrist. The woman howled as they dragged her halfway up the steps, forcing her to her knees. Juda stepped closer, his expression unmoved and blank, as he motioned for one of the Highguards to show him her face.
The one with his hand in her hair yanked her head back at an uncomfortable angle.
It took no time at all for Juda to shake his head and walk away.
Lifting his foot, the Highguard kicked the woman down the steps, and she landed at the bottom, dazed and sobbing, clutching her wrist to her chest.
