His bushy eyebrows lift in surprise. “Oh? I did not think to look that far away. I searched for her in Moldavia and Bohemia.”
Ágota shrugs a shoulder. “Someone trying to kill me did not sit well with her. She wanted to make sure I was safe by moving us far away.”
“Which was her right. Sadly, I have a jealous wife.” Balázs admits, rubbing his brow with thick callused fingers.
“What are you saying? Speak louder!” Soffia takes a few steps forward, but stops when she sees me staring at her. It seems that our hatred and fear are mutual.
“I am telling my daughter that we are returning home,” Balázs says, his voice booming. Lowering it again, he says to Ágota, “I will explain everything once we are in a more private setting.” With a wave of his hand, the air shimmers with the colors of the rainbow. “Follow me.”
With a cocky grin at his wife, Balázs steps into the vibrant swirls and vanishes from sight.
“What is that?” I whisper to my sister.
With a wild grin, Ágota answers, “Magic.”
“I know that! But what does it do?”
“Let us find out!”
My sister takes hold of my arm and guides me after her father. I am a little leery of the shimmer. Magic is not always kind to mortals and, additionally, I fear it might be some sort of trap. Ágota may be ready to trust her father, but I am not. Rubbing the symbol on my ring, I resolve to trust my sister and be brave.
“This is rather exciting,” Ágota declares with a gleeful expression on her face.
When we step through the rippling air, I instinctively hold my breath, for it is as if we are being submerged in water. Instead of swimming, we stand on a very narrow path that resembles frozen ice inside a long, iridescent tunnel that arches over the valley to the castle. As though it is a prism, the rippling air transforms the sunlight funneling through it. Splotches of color dance over our skin and we giggle together with delight.
“What is this, Father?” Ágota calls out.
Striding ahead, the big man says over one shoulder, “A ley bridge. There are a not many left in this world. When I found this one, I built the castle near it.”
“So you did not make it, Father?”
Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Oh, no. The Ancients created this and they are long gone from this world and the Witch World.”
The other witches appear through the portal and follow us, but at a careful distance.
I stare with fascination through the distorted image of the world outside the path. I am tempted to touch the undulating, colorful magic, but fear it may pop it like a bubble.
“Can they see us? The people out there on the farms and in the town?” I dare to query.
“No, little one, they cannot. We are hidden from them.”
“Are you afraid of your enemies finding this bridge?” I continue my questions while we walk behind him, my curiosity spurred by this strange passageway.
“No. Only witches and fey folk can use it.”
I cast a sharp, fearful look at Ágota. Will I suddenly be ousted from the bridge when it discerns my mortal blood?
She winks at me while mouthing, “Ring.”
“Since I rule the witches and have accords with the fey, I do not fear an incursion. Of course, fairies sometimes find their way inside and cause a bit of trouble, but that is their nature.” Balázs strolls along the pathway as it descends at a slope toward his castle. “Besides—I have wards to warn me when peculiar witches appear in my territory.”
“I set it off on purpose, you know,” Ágota says, a bit insulted.
Balázs’s chuckle is his only response.
I peer down at my feet to see the bridge undulating with colorful lights. There are cracks in the surface, which I find curious. Is the magic fading? And who are the Ancients? I glance over my shoulder at Soffia and the other witches following in our wake. Soffia’s face is set in a scowl and the witches behind her look none too pleased either. The men and women of Balázs’s coven definitely are not inclined to be welcoming to Ágota or accepting of her as the Archwitch. Ágota is worthy of the title and their hostility provokes me to dislike them all.
When we arrive at the castle, we pass through a stone wall—that flows around us as though it is dark water—and step out into a great hall as formidable as the one in Gratz. The ceilings are high and curved with rafters crossing overhead and the hanging banners have a gold backdrop with a flaming tree emblazoned in the forefront. The furniture is heavy and decorative with carvings of all sorts of supernatural creatures. Sunlight pours through high stained-glass windows to paint the stone floor with dazzling hues. The hearth is enormous and a fire burns bright beneath a massive black cauldron. Scattered across the room, lounging in the warm pools cast by the sunbeams, are cats of all colors and breeds.