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“I have arranged for some of my men to accompany you dressed as peasants. They will keep you safe until you reach your father’s land.”

“We have come this far on our own. We will continue onward without assistance,” Ágota replies.

“Archwitch, I acknowledge your great power, but there are fearsome creatures in this world. Not just fey, witches, vampires, and other mystical creatures. There are brutal men who would take advantage of you.”

“I am very aware and will avoid such manner of men. I do not need your guards when I have my own magic and fortitude.”

“And if I insist?”

“They will not be able to follow where I travel,” Ágota replies.

Wirich tucks his hands behind his back while slowly walking in a circle around Ágota. If he means to intimidate her, he will fail. Pressing her lips together, she twists her fingers in a familiar way and her feet leave the ground. Whipping about in the air, she faces the big man eye to eye.

“I have fulfilled my obligations to you and The White Woman in the Wood. I will now take my leave with my sister.”

Lifting his heavy eyebrows, Wirich takes two steps back from her. “More impressive than I dreamed.”

“We are done here.”

Ágota drops to her feet, takes my hand and pulls me along behind her toward the door on the far end of the room. Wirich does not call after us, but the sound of his heavy footfalls follow. Ágota weaves her way through the hallways to the lower castle ward. When we exit the castle, I crane my head to look at the towers looming over our head. Ágota draws me across the courtyard toward the heavy gate at a brisk pace.

Several men in plain peasant clothing are gathered near the gate. I suspect they are supposed to be our chaperones. Ágota snarls at them as we approach. When they shirk away from us, I tilt my head to gaze up at my sister’s face. I am not surprised to see her eyes shimmering a radiant green. It is a show of power that is impressive and terrifying. Even I feel a little frightened of her.

We are nearly to the gate when I hear my name called out. Whipping about, I am happy to see Albrecht rushing across the courtyard. In the early morning sunlight, Albrecht is even prettier than I remembered. My heart beats faster at the sight of him as he sprints toward me, his dark red tunic fluttering around his long legs. On his shoulder is an enormous raven that flutters its wings to maintain its balance as the boy runs.

“Erzsébet! Wait!”

“Ágota, it is Albrecht!” I exclaim. “He is coming to say goodbye!”

I whip about to see my sister with one hand raised over her head. The enormous gate creaks open under her power. The castle sentries surge toward her and she thrusts out her palm toward them. They fall back as though they have struck a barrier, terror blooming in their eyes.

“Let her pass!” Wirich calls out. “Do not interfere.”

The gate finishes opening and Ágota reaches for me. I evade her, determined to say goodbye to Albrecht. The look of astonishment on her face gives me a pinch of guilt, but I dart away to meet Albrecht.

Breathlessly, he arrives before me. The raven settles its wings and tilts its head to regard me thoughtfully. “Erzsébet, you are leaving so soon?”

“Yes, Ágota wants to leave. She does not like it here.”

Albrecht scowls at my sister. “Of course. I suspect she does not like much in this world. But you do like it here, do you not?”

I lift my eyes over his dark head to gaze at the imposing castle. The very notion of living in such a grand place with Albrecht at my side is enthralling. The castle is not so frightening anymore despite Ágota’s misgivings. This is Albrecht’s home and he is fond of me. I do feel welcomed here.

Grinning, I nod.

Relief fills his eyes and he returns my smile. “Excellent. You will come back one day?”

I enthusiastically exclaim, “Yes!”

“I know you have magic to protect yourself since you are a witch, but I want to give you this to keep close to you. It is wise to always be armed in dangerous times, or so Dominique says.” Albrecht holds out a dagger in a fine leather sheath. “She gave it to me when I was your age. It is suitable for someone your size.”

I take the gift with some trepidation. I do not have magic, but I cannot correct him. Ágota has her reasons for our deceit. The dagger is rather small when I slip it from the sheath. A rose is engraved on the very sharp blade. It is pretty despite its deadliness. I am uncertain I could wield such a weapon to protect myself, but I am grateful for his concern.

The raven regards my actions with great interest but does not move from its perch on Albrecht’s shoulder. I become aware of the cawing of other ravens perched above my head on the wall. I wonder at the significance of the birds, for their image adorns the banners strung over the gate.

“This is very nice. Are you certain you should give it to me?” I ask.

“Very certain. This way you will remember me always until you return,” Albrecht says. “I will be older, handsome, and a warrior. You will be beautiful, wise, and an Archwitch. We will be very happy. I promise.”


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