Two years ago...

"Aramina! There you are." Tasha's voice sounded as I shut the dormitory door.

"Here I am," I repeated, trying not to sound too unenthusiastic as I dropped my books on the small desk beside my bed. My thoughts were still reeling after my encounter in the library and I couldn't stop thinking about the way Rixon's eyes had burned into me, or the shame and embarrassment of being utterly ignored and dismissed. It...hurt.

Our dormitory was a wide open chamber that slept six. There were eleven females in my cohort. The other five had the dormitory next door, but most of them were crammed in this one tonight, sitting cross-legged on each other's beds. Tasha was on mine. I plopped down beside her, sighing.

"We were just talking about Cecilia," Johanna said, filling me in. As if I cared. "Apparently she's snuck off to the catacombs with Merrik." She gave me a knowing glance. My cheeks blazed, betraying me. "Isn't that the one you like?"

I covered my embarrassment with a snort. "Maybe once. Not since last year." Not since he'd slept with half the girls in this very dormitory. Not after listening to each of them recount how big his cock was and how often he'd made them come. Gods. He might've been handsome, but really? And to think of him with Cecilia? I was glad I'd squashed his advances.

"Well," said Johanna, not missing a beat, "I think Cece's determined to sample all the prospective wielders."

"Considering she won't have any sampling left after Merrik...yeah," Sarah chimed in. "Gods...I wish I had her blonde hair. Or even her eyes. Green eyes are so...dreamy." Her wishful thoughts earned a mix of sighs and snorts. Everyone knew Cecilia was the most beautiful of us—stunning, in fact.

"Well, if I were in her shoes, I'd do the same." Johanna shrugged. "Getting first pick of the wielders after trials, why shouldn't she sample them? She'll have to spend her life with one of them. Might as well be one who fucks better than the rest."

I snorted. "Considering less than half the witches in this Citadel have sexual relationships with their wielders, Johnna, but sure, sex is far more important than finding a wielder who can actually slay demons, who can actually protect you."

Johanna made a choking sound, as if that were the least important reason. "Don't be such a downer, Mina. When was the last time you snuck down to the catacombs?" I didn't answer. "Right. Exactly. Besides, anyone can swing a sword with the proper training. A skilled cock, however..." Johanna waggled her eyebrows at the others. I rolled my eyes, suppressing a groan. This was all they ever talked about anymore.

"Well, Cecelia hasn't slept with all the wielders." Tasha's comment made me freeze.

"Rixon!" several voices hissed at once.

"Rixon doesn't count," Johanna huffed. "He's not in our cohort—"

"Technically," I interrupted, "he is now. If he plans to compete in trials two years from now, then he'll be competing with all our wielders."

"Ugh." There were more than a few groans.

"He shouldn't be allowed to," Delia whined. "He failed to protect his witch. Why would any of us choose him? Why should he get another chance? None of us will choose someone like him, especially after that."

"I can't believe he'd even show his face." Johanna didn't hide her scorn.

My stomach twisted. "You don't even know what happened, Johanna. Nor do you have proof that it was his fault."

Wait...why was I defending him?

"As if you know anything about it," Sarah said, dismissing my argument. "Besides, I was talking to Theo today. He heard it from a trusted source that it wasn't an accident." Everyone in the dormitory edged closer. Sarah's voice dropped. "Apparently Ena was so awful to him, he let a demon swallow her up and didn't bother to protect her. Everyone knows demons prefer witch blood."

Gasps echoed in the dormitory.

It was an utter insult, to assume any wielder would do something so awful, no matter how much they might dislike the witch they bonded to. Besides, with a witch's ability to command a wielder, I didn't believe it for a second. But, what was I going to do? Argue in his favor? Defend him after he'd completely ignored me? I had heard the rumors already, and if anything, I took pity on him. It took courage to show up here after a devastation like that, regardless of what had happened. Besides, if he'd let Ena die on purpose, he wouldn't have come back. So...why had he?

***

I woke to raised hairs on the back of my neck. A shadow loomed over me. The fire had died down to embers, but I recognized Rixon's features. He crouched beside me, a finger to his lips. His hand was a firm pressure on my shoulder. The moment he removed it, I immediately wanted it back, not that I'd ever admit it to myself. Instead, I watched for moment as he went to the horses.

He didn't make a sound. Still, I heard the slither and snap of grass that had me sitting up, heart doubling in beat. In the darkness, just beyond my wards, I saw movement. It took a moment to place the shadows slipping by, far enough that my wards would keep us safe, but still too close for comfort.

We were a day away from Barefort, and that meant an increase in demons. Demons were drawn to human settlements. We'd likely encounter a few along the way tomorrow, which we'd have to dispense of. But tonight, I waited in silence, debating what to do.

I cast a glance at Rixon, who stood with the horses, one hand ready to draw a weapon. His whispers didn't reach me, but I knew he was there to comfort them. Perhaps I should have been more frightened, but with Rixon I felt...safe.

The dark shapes continued to creep by, almost cat-like, nearly silent in their movements. I couldn't quite make them out. Xastors? They were on all fours, resembled canines, and had glowing red eyes that gave them away. Xastors didn't have tails, only nubs. They did have wide jaws and dark, course fur, tall, pointed ears, and bulky bodies. Their fangs were venomous and could kill a person in hours if the proper treatment wasn't administered.

My mind raced. A pack of Xastors in the dark. There were eight, or maybe ten. Fighting them with limited light could result in severe injuries. Even with my magic, I couldn't risk my wielder.

I sat frozen, counting the seconds, throwing glances at Rixon.

My heart calmed as they moved away. I didn't expel my breath until their shadows disappeared. Even then, we remained silent and motionless for many long minutes.

I stood after that, and went to Rixon, to the horses. I put a hand on his arm. "You haven't slept. I'll keep watch. Go get some rest." He looked like he wanted to argue, jaw working as he eyed my hand. I sighed. "If you drop from exhaustion tomorrow, it won't help either of us. Go, sleep. You've already been taking on too much."

Still, he hesitated. I squeezed, ignoring the way his muscles bunched. Ignoring how good it felt to touch him. Sudden longing burst through me. Wary, I dropped my hand, appalled by my thoughts.

"Fine." Rixon patted the horses again, his eyes lingering over me. Even in the dark, I felt his gaze touch my skin. Like fingertips. I looked away.

When he went to the fire, unfurling his bedding and wrapping his cloak around him, I took up my watch, listening mostly. My mind drifted over everything that had happened in the past week. Witch and wielder pairs bonded for life, except when death took one. Like in Rixon's case.

It was meant to be a working partnership. Witches subdued demons while wielders eliminated them. But wielders were more than that; they were protectors, charged with ensuring their witches stayed safe, stayed alive. Any male could be trained to use a blade. Witches, however, were rarer.

Dwindling witches, and yet, the number of demons grew. Years ago, people could travel from one fort to another without seeing a single one. Now they moved in packs, picking off humans, staking out settlements, waiting for travelers. Why?

Hopefully Rockfall would have answers. Otherwise we were all doomed.

The following morning, we left our small camp an hour after dawn. Admittedly I didn't want wake Rixon; I wanted to let him rest as much as possible. So we were a little late in starting. But after a quick breakfast of travel rations, we were on our way.

Despite being tired, I felt renewed. If we made good time, we would be in Barefort by late afternoon. The thought of a hot bath, fresh meal, and a bed left me giddy. I didn't even care that it wouldn't be the kind of feathered bed I'd grown spoiled with in the Citadel. Not to mention sleeping a full night without keeping watch.

The day dragged by at a snail's pace. As usual, Rixon was a silent presence. Sometimes he rode ahead, other times he fell back to ride near me, though never too near. Despite catching his gaze often, I maintained my own silence. Something had shifted in the past couple of days. He looked at me like a puzzle, like he couldn't quite make sense of me, couldn't quite figure me out.

When I spotted a smudge on the horizon—Barefort set on a hilltop—my relief was palpable. Much to my surprise, we hadn't spotted a single demon since the Xastors last night, and I was counting my blessings. Rixon was a short gallop ahead, so I snatched my journal from my saddle bags and began sketching. My pencil made quick work of the scattered fields around the fort, slopping upward around the expanse tall walls. They were dotted with workers in straw hats, tending crops. A smile pulled at my lips. I penciled their details as smudges without faces.

I added circular puffs for the tree line to the west, giving it the least amount of detail, then my gaze shifted back to the fort. I filled in the fort's structure and used blunt lines to outline the buildings. They rose up several stories behind its high walls. Somewhere within was a cozy inn where we'd stay. There were flags jutting up from the gate's portcullis. I added those too. I couldn't be sure where the wards began, somewhere far beyond the walls to encompass some of the fields, but I tried to guess where they might be, adding a faint line of a circle around—

Ferrah's galloping hooves made me look up. Rixon approached at top speed, scowling. "See that there?" he said without ceremony. He pointed at the forest, far on the western side of the farmland.

I narrowed my eyes. It took a few moments, then my heart stopped. "No," I breathed. "Is that...?"

"I think so. Wasn't sure at first."

The dark blur was barely discernible, emerging from the tree line on a direct path to the edge most fields. I couldn't be sure which demons they were, but they were demons. "We have to warn them!" I realized. "The farmers in the fields."

After a brief hesitation, he nodded. "We must hurry, Lady Witch." He took off at a gallop. I spurred Jarrow into action, quickly overtaking him. This time, he didn't protest.

Just as I was about to open my mouth and begin screaming, a bell tolled, then another. Their booming rings echoed out over the fields. Farmers stopped what they were doing, looked up, and began shouting, dropping their baskets, their tools. Females hefted their skirts. Everyone raced towards the fort's walls.

A burst of relief shot though me. They had signals, people keeping watch, possibly even one of the witches or wielders who were stationed here. Still, I didn't stop my gallop. I gained on the western edge of farmland. Only then did I see what we were up against. "Shit, shit, shiiit," I whispered when I saw the Olum leading the pack. Several Tharns, Xastors, Trongs, Kollms, and a single Jarg. There were at least twenty in total.

I swallowed the panic rising in my chest. Steeling my nerves, I took a deep breath. I could handle this many. I can do this, I told myself. I'd done it in my trials, but not with humans at risk. My mind ran through a few calculations. If I held them long enough, Rixon could slaughter them. He'd move quickly, from one to the next. I was confident in that. It would cost me though. It would deplete much of my magic—magic I'd hoped to save.

Ferrah's hooves were close behind. I dared a glance back at Rixon. Just the sight of him calmed me. He was practically standing in his stirrups, his sword in hand. "Don't do anything reckless," he shouted, as if anticipating what I planned. For the first time in days, there was something else in his expression. Something I'd not seen yet. Worry—for me. It stole my breath. Then his gaze snapped towards the fort's gates and I followed his look.

Two riders raced out while farmers sprinted for safety, still struggling to close the distance to the fort's walls. A huge bellow split the air. The pack of demons slammed into an invisible wall, thrown back by the force of it. Their infuriated screeches and roars echoed across the fields. They began clawing at it, throwing their bodies against it.

I breathed a sigh of relief, even as they continued battering against the wards. It would buy time, but very little for a pack this large. I saw sparks against the invisible boundary. Everything stoped for a moment. Then my heart all but froze. A single Xastor squeezed through, racing for one of the straggling farmers.

"The wards aren't holding," I screamed at Rixon.

I wasn't sure if there were witches on the walls, guarding their wielders, acting from a distance. I couldn't be sure of anything at this point. All I knew was demons were breaking through the wards and if I didn't act quickly, those who hadn't reached the fort wouldn't make it in time. Those deaths would be on my hands and I couldn't allow it. This was what I'd trained for, to help people who couldn't help themselves, just as I too had once been too helpless to save the ones I loved. So I tunneled, deep, deep, deep, into my magic, and let it burst free.

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