Page 84 of The Rat King
“We’d have to dismantle the wards, and that is witch magic,” Link said, cutting Eshan off.
“We could set fire to the Wildwood and try to flush her out,” Hager said.
“Quiet,” I boomed, and all eyes trained on me. “That isn’t what she wants. She wants me to go there and beg. She wants to play nice, like we’re one big happy family. We might have been able to take her by force before, but she has my wife now. I have to go to her alone.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jetta was struggling to get to her feet. I rushed over to her and helped her up. Darkened veins rose to the surface of her pale cheeks, caused by whatever spell had rendered her unconscious.
“What happened?” she asked, disoriented. She leaned onto me for support, and I ushered her over to the group. Immediately her father wrapped her in his arms and began using his power to heal the damage Samara had left.
As he worked, she eyed me. Then her eyes widened. “Where’s Avery?” she asked, voice insistent and more than a little panicked.
I shook my head, and she gasped as her hands flew to her mouth. “No,” she said beneath her breath.
“My mother will keep her alive, to lure me to her. I need to go. I can transport myself to the outside of her wards, and then I’ll have to get to her on foot,” I said.
“Nighval, I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but you need to let her calm down. Rage has taken over her mind and there will be no sense talking to her now. She’s too unpredictable. Go see her tomorrow. Let her sleep and come to her senses. She won’t hurt Avery,” Jetta said.
When I looked like I would not listen, she stepped forward and wrapped a hand around my forearm, squeezing. “Please trust me.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because I’m a woman, and I know there is no sense trying to reason with us when we are furious.” The corner of her mouth tipped up in a sad smile, but she was right.
I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself having to wait to free my wife. Every minute she had to stay in that form would be a nightmare for her.
I patted Jetta’s hand. “Okay,” I said, and without another word, I turned and stalked out of the room.
I didn’t sleep. I spent the night pacing in front of the bed I shared with her. She had replaced the old, time-worn bedding with new, fresh fabrics in the same coloring and style as they were before. My thoughtful wife. She changed some things, but she left other things as they were, always knowing exactly which things made an impact.
As I wore a path and the rug, I decided I would never leave her at Ravsted without me once I got her back. I didn’t care what she saw me do. I was keeping her by my side from now on. Nothing else mattered. I should have immediately grabbed hold of her and transported us somewhere safe. That was my mistake. And now the hours I spent without her were as much a punishment to me as knowing what she must be going through.
As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, I transported myself to the edge of Samara’s ward in the Wildwood. She spelled them to recognize my essence since we’d made our agreement to give me access, but I wasn’t sure it still held, so my gaze was ever wary.
On foot it would be about two hours to the heart of the wood. Rustling sounded in the distance to my left. I jogged toward the sound, not wanting to be caught unaware. A small hunting party made up of four burly men trudged over an overgrown trapper’s trail. The first two carried a long pole between them and a wild boar carcass hung upside down, bound by its legs. Another had a deer over his shoulders and the final man had a rope with a few rabbits strung through the eye, much like one would see a catch of fish.
I fell in behind the men, unbeknownst to them. It seemed like these woods were ever changing, shifting, and watching, but the hunters knew the way. It was easier to follow them and would likely save time.
When we entered the village, they shuffled down an alley and into a side door of a little stone building that belonged to the village butcher. My boots clapped onto the cobblestones of the narrow street as I charged toward the grand house at the end of the lane.
Kicking the wrought iron gate open, I strode across the yard and up the steps. My hand tugged the brass knob, but it didn’t budge, so I beat my fist against the wood, making the knocker clank.
My heart raced as my vision clouded when she didn’t immediately answer. We both knew I was coming, and we both knew she was in there with my wife.
I beat against the door with another series of muffled curses and paced over to see if I could get a glimpse inside a window. I was about to punch my fist through the glass when the door creaked open.
My mother had a slew of servants, but it was her smirking face that appeared from behind the door. It always was when I came to visit. I stomped over to her and slammed my hand into the wood, which tore it out of her grip before I brushed past her and entered.
When I turned around to glare down at her, she clicked the door shut and faced me, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Where the fuck is my wife?” I demanded, between gritted teeth.
“One might think you would be a little kinder to your mother,” she said.
“If that’s what you think, then you really are delusional,” I said as she paced past me and down the hall. I followed on her heels. “Is she still trapped in the hold of your magic?” I asked, dread swirling in my stomach.
She shrugged nonchalantly, running a fingertip down the wood paneling of the hallway. She’d chewed her nails to the quick, I noticed, and what looked to be chemical burns were on the back of her hand. “You’ll see soon enough. And you haven’t even asked me what I wanted.”
“I don’t care what you want,” I said, losing focus on the words I had told the warlocks last night. I knew I needed to play nice, but seeing her smug expression, my self-control slipped. I needed to get a hold of it with urgency for Avery’s sake.
