4

4

F ire writhed in my belly. The sun sank slowly to the west, inch by inch, until the hills swallowed it up.

He is here , Fate whispered. Find him. End him. Make him pay.

I held my stomach in a feeble attempt to extinguish Fate’s fire. All I could taste was smoke. It burned my nostrils, charring the back of my throat. Even jumping into the fountains in front of the House of Water wouldn’t quench Fate’s flame. The only way to put it out was to find the boy.

The fiery sky blinded me for a moment. I turned in a circle, asking Fate to direct me.

The Center was full of people.

“Help me,” I whispered.

Fate answered, He is here .

“Where?”

I searched every face for twin dimples, or for Fate’s sigil. I would find it stamped onto the boy’s forehead.

Musicians in the pentagram’s Center struck up a jovial tune. Children squealed as they linked arms and skipped in circles through the grass. Witches from every House gathered in clusters, mingling together when so often they were kept separate. Their jewel-toned gowns and suits were the finest they had. I stood out among them like the sore thumb I was, dripping with a black velvet dress the same hue as my hair.

The Priestesses and Priest had been watching and waiting anxiously for me to emerge. When they saw me in the Center, they knew the time had come.

Grandmother Ela took control of the situation, commanding the crowd’s attention. She explained that one of our own was found dead in the woods this morning, and that the culprit was among us and would be brought swiftly to justice. She warned them that this was no stunt, no skit. Those with children, she said, should take them behind the Houses so they would not witness the hanging that was about to occur.

Panicked murmurs bubbled through the crowd. Despite her warning, a few thought it was all part of the festivities, and waited with bated breath for something to occur. Others obeyed immediately. Mothers and fathers heeded her warning, guiding their children to the back porches of the Houses.

Slowly, the witches of every House began to chant, cleansing the atmosphere and casting a protective spell over the innocent.

They’d never assisted me in the least .

Although, to be fair, one of their own had never been so callously discarded.

My eyes found Brecan’s. He gave a nod and I knew he’d told Ethne I was searching for the one who killed Harmony, the Fire witch. Brecan had always been a buffer between me and all the others, and I was thankful for his comforting presence.

A circle of young men from the lower sectors stood at the bottom of the Center. One threw his red head back laughing, clapping his two dark-haired companions on the back. Their two friends tipped back bottles, and I’d bet those drinks weren’t their first, given their loose tongues and manners. “This is a joke, is all,” one said. “A prank – and a good one, at that. Beware… Hide your children’s eyes …” he joked, poking fun at Ela’s legitimate warning.

I wondered how much fun he would be having if she removed his tongue, or even the ability to wag it for the evening.

They were the right age and build. Even though none had hair the color of wet sand, changing the color of one’s hair was simple enough. I casually walked toward them just to be sure.

As I steadily approached, their laughter faded away.

The Lowers greeted one another, not by bows, but by shaking hands. I could learn much from a simple handshake. The only problem was that the residue of their touch would linger long past the initial contact…

The red-headed jokester saw me first and nudged one of the dark-haired boys, who turned to me with a roguish smile. His nose had been broken, but there were no divots in his cheeks. His hair was the same dark water hue of his friend. They were built the same. Gestured the same way. His eyes were the color of burnt toffee, a strange amber shade that was both warm and cool at the same time.

I realized the dark-haired men were brothers.

I turned to the other dark-haired brother, noticing his hair was a shade darker, a brown so deep it was nearly black. When he finally noticed me, I almost missed a step. His eyes were spun gold, the loveliest I’d ever seen. I told Fate right then and there that if it was him, I refused to do his bidding tonight.

Fate just chuckled in response.

“Good evening, Miss,” the red-head greeted, extending his hand. “Thank you for allowing us to attend your celebration.”

Flashing him a smile, I took his hand. “It is we who owe you thanks.”

The flash of a shield entered my mind. He was a protector of sorts. Likely a soldier. And a good one, too, as the silver shield he projected bore scars, but none of them fatal.

The roguish brother opened his hand and grinned as I placed mine into it. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said formally.

The golden-eyed brother watched silently as the others greeted me, but held his hand out. “Pleased to meet you,” he rasped. When I took his hand, I couldn’t suppress my gasp. In my mind, he kissed me. Feverishly. I wondered if he saw the same thing, because he pulled his hand away slowly, looking at me as if I’d hexed him.

I quickly schooled my expression, taking a deep, calming breath. By the Goddess, what was that ?

“Excuse me,” I told them, walking quickly toward the woods beyond them. I held my middle. My stomach was being singed. Fate had finally decided to show up and help me.

Fine timing that he granted me his favor only after I made a fool out of myself in front of those young men.

Not that I cared, I decided.

I was relieved his mark wasn’t upon the golden-eyed boy. If he was the culprit, I might have been tempted to visit him in Twelve, just as the doomed young witch had sought out her lover. I picked up my skirts and jogged into the trees, letting the forest swallow me. Around my waist was a skinny length of solid black rope, stained with the last breaths of those Fate had damned and that I’d hung for him. I uncoiled it and quickly knotted the noose.

Fate whispered to me, You have found him. Now, make him pay .

Three young men huddled together, encircling a young witch from my grandmother’s House. Her green gown and robes darkened in time with the sky overhead.

None of them realized I was behind them until I spoke. “Lovely evening,” I remarked, staring up at the painted sky through the canopy. It was just as I had seen, just as Fate had designed.

“Uh, it sure is,” one of them chuckled.

“Do you know these boys?” I asked the young Earth witch. Madeline , Fate told me. “Do you know them, Madeline?”

She shook her head rapidly, a tear falling from her eye .

“We know her ,” the dimpled boy fibbed. Fate’s mark throbbed above his brow, the sigil pulsing with the need for me to conquer him.

I smiled. “You lie.” I waved for the girl to come closer to me. “Madeline.” She hesitated for a moment, her fear of me being overridden by her fear of the men, and strode toward me, tucking herself behind my back. “Go find Priestess Ela. Remain at her side. It’s time.” Her eyes widened as the meaning of my words sunk in. She glanced back at the dimpled boy who was no longer smiling.

“Time for what?” he braced.

“A witch was found dead just inside our border this morning. The one who killed her will hang in just a few moments.”

The muscle in his cheek twitched.

Dimples was going to run. I could see him weighing his options, considering which direction to take

“What does that have to do with us?” his tall friend asked. He had no idea what his friend was capable of.

“Going forward, you should be more careful of the company you keep,” I warned him.

Before my words had a chance to carry over the wind, Dimples took off at a sprint toward the border. I let him run, allowing his confidence and sweat to build and drip in rivulets down his face and back. I let him think he might actually get away as I kept a steady walking pace at his heels. Then I whispered a spell to strengthen his spine so it wouldn’t snap prematurely, lassoed his head like he was a runaway steer, dug my heels into the ground, and gave the rope a strong yank.

Insects that had been singing to one another quieted as I reeled him in and began to drag him back toward the Center. His cowardly friends were nowhere to be found. They had long since scurried away, and were likely crossing the border back into Twelve at this very moment.

He gasped for air, clawing at his neck.

Fate wanted him dead. Every witch in Thirteen wanted the same. Myself included. How many more witches would have died at his deceitful hands? “I suppose it would be polite to tell you why you’re about to die, but I think we both know the reason.”

He tried to reply, but the noose had already crushed his larynx. Oops.

A normal Equinox celebration would be in full swing with tinkling bells, crashing cymbals, and witches dancing around fires they set and manipulated for the delight of the crowd, but this was no normal Equinox. Through the trees, I could see that the members of every House had formed a protective circle around the pentagram, encasing the citizens of the lower sectors and making a human barrier between them and the gallows where Dimples would hang.

The Lowers called Sector Thirteen ‘The Gallows’ for a reason, though few had ever witnessed a hanging here. We were the only sector who had them, and who punished those who committed crimes against us, with hanging. Citizens from the Lowers called us barbaric and inhumane for it, but Fate demanded it, and even if he didn’t, the Priestesses and Priest would.

I knew the punishments were fair, but I wondered how effective the threat was when it was so far removed. No one from the Lowers normally witnessed someone being put to death, though the young man wriggling behind me obviously knew about our customs. Even though he knew more than most, not even the threat of hanging deterred the handsome, dimpled boy from asphyxiating the young Fire witch.

The boy was desperate for air, so I whispered a spell to loosen the noose just a smidge. He coughed and sputtered, sucking in deep, ragged breaths. I stopped and gave him a chance to catch his breath.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find you?” I asked, curious to know the mind of the cruel boy.

His lips shook with rage. If only he were stronger... I saw the threat in his eyes.

The trees thinned and then came to an abrupt stop as we neared the gallows. The witches’ chants were drowned out by the shocked gasps of those from the Lowers. When they saw what, or whom, I dragged behind me, the parents who hadn’t heeded Ela’s warning quickly covered their children’s eyes, or scooped them up and carried them away toward the backs of the Houses to join those who had listened. The mouths of men and women, old and young, gaped as I dragged Dimples to the set of wooden gallows erected at the base of the pentagram.

Death was not welcome in the sacred circle.

Hovering over him, I waited for him to recover. “Stand up.”

An inferno of hatred flared in his eyes. He tried to talk, but his crushed larynx only elicited flat shrieks from his mouth.

“Stand up, or I will drag you onto the platform.”

He managed to get a knee up and pushed to his feet, sweat-soaked hair obscuring the upper half of his face. The coarse rope had cut into the tender skin of his throat. Rivulets of blood and sweat merged and sluiced down the skin of his chest, disappearing behind the buttoned fabric of his shirt. He panted, his lips puffing out with each breath.

“Now walk,” I ordered, tugging on the rope as I ascended the stairs. At the bottom, he braced himself and resisted, refusing to budge. “I really thought we had an understanding. You were going to cooperate, and I was going to consider allowing your neck to snap when the floor falls out from under your feet... but now, you’re irritating me.”

His lips curled up into a cruel smile. “Witch,” he mouthed, his throat squeaking like a rusted hinge.

It was my turn to grin. “Yes, I am. But do you want to know a secret? I am no mere witch. I am the Daughter of Fate. This evening, I am his hands, and his fingers want to crush the life out of you, the way you did our sister. Fate’s hands never weaken, never falter, and they never fail.”

I whispered a spell lifting the killer’s feet off the ground. He sputtered as he floated, as I took control and made him hover up the steps while I walked alongside, as easily as one would guide a cooperative hound. Settling him beneath the top post, I ordered the spell to release him. He fell the few inches, nearly losing his balance. I righted him as Fate gave me his name.

Jenson. Jenson Renk.

Waving an arm through the air as one would clear a chalkboard, I whispered a spell to extricate Jenson’s memory, projecting it to the crowd, where they saw what he’d done from his point of view. Saw his bony fingers wrap around her neck, watched him straddle her and crush her body beneath his. They witnessed her struggle against him. Her fear was so alive, I could almost taste it. Her desperation was palpable. The Lowers gasped as she floundered and then went still as the light and life faded from her beautiful amber eyes. Her fingers weakened and fell away from his punishing hands. Her head lolled to the side, but he held tight another moment to make sure she was dead.

“Jenson Renk, citizen of Sector Twelve,” I announced, “you murdered Harmony, witch of the House of Fire, by means of asphyxiation. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. Fate has chosen to show you no mercy, because you showed none to our sister. As repayment for your crime, he demands your death.”

I stared him down as I spelled the rope in my hands. The frayed end transformed into the head of a snake. It coiled around on itself, hissing at the guilty man before quickly slithering up the posts and across the beam. Usually, I would have made him stand on a stool and hefted his weight for him, but I wouldn’t do anything to help a murderer of this caliber.

I didn’t even bother with the doors that would break apart, giving way beneath him. No, there would be no mercy for him. I would not allow his neck to break. He would strangle slowly, the way he had strangled Harmony.

Bay stared at me from below with an unreadable expression. I likely hadn’t made it quick enough for his liking, but I didn’t care in that moment. Brecan stood at the fringe, his rigid posture a tell that he would gladly help if I needed it. It was a kind gesture, but I’d never required anyone’s assistance for this. This… was what I was made for.

The snake coiled tighter and tighter over the beam until the condemned man’s toes were lifted off the ground. He kicked, trying to find the planks beneath.

Jenson’s face turned red and then purple as he scrambled to force his fingers between his skin and the serpent to ease the pressure. His heart beat faster, but the blood wasn’t able to flow where he needed it most. His lips bulged.

He kicked out in a blind panic, sending his body swaying back and forth until his movements became uncoordinated. His grip floundered and his arms fell limply to his sides, twitching occasionally.

The thrashing and swinging slowed, and then Jenson stopped struggling.

The group of young men whose hands I’d shaken stood just within the collection of witches, lingering closest to the platform. With wide eyes and gaping mouths, their attention was fixed on Jenson Renk, staring like they could see his soul leave his body.

They couldn’t, but I could.

A dark mist emerged from his flesh. It lingered as I whispered a spell transforming the snake back into a rope. His lingering last breath settled into the coarse fibers, darkening the length of cord, and then Fate’s victim fell to the ground an empty heap, naught but flesh and bone.

There would be a fuss in the lower sectors tomorrow – tonight, if some chose to leave to spread the word about what they saw. Those who witnessed his hanging would never forget it, but Jenson Renk would be forgotten in time, and that was all that mattered .

Fate was pleased.

The fire in my belly was extinguished. My fingers and lips had thawed.

I descended the stairs and met a pair of golden eyes the moment my feet hit the ground. I looked away, unable to stomach the emotions blazing behind them, and made my way through the crowd that wasted no time parting for me.