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His wife gasped for breath. “This isn’t the time for a religious lesson. Do something, Elliot!”
“Lucas, hold the shield,” I told him. “I have an idea.”
I closed my eyes and focused on the magic around us. I could feel all kinds of energy signatures—the smooth energy of a Seer standing behind us, the electric sizzle of several Mentalists, the high-frequency buzz of an Alchemist, and the chaos of Mortana. I could even sense the heat coming off the lion, though I couldn’t quite tap into her energy. I honed in on the Mortana and pulled his magic into me.
“What the hell?” the burly man shouted. I opened my eyes to see sparks shooting from his fingers, but the Death magic he expected never came.
“It’s the Waning!” one of the others panicked.
I smirked. Not the Waning. Just a Curse Breaker.
The magic rattled around inside of me, until I couldn’t contain it any longer.
“Duck on three,” I warned Lucas. I shot a glance at the Elementai, but they were already on their knees. “One… two… three…”
Lucas dropped his shield, and the magic I had siphoned burst out of me all at once. A blast of energy soared over Lucas’s head as he ducked, and it slammed into all the Executors at once. Their bodies fell to the ground.
“Hurry!” I shouted, racing over to help loosen the nooses around the couple’s necks. “His magic was weak. I only knocked them out.”
I pulled the noose over Eleanor’s head, and she shrugged me off. She got to her feet and glared down at the Executors sprawled across the forest floor. “We’ll take care of them.”
Lucas helped Elliot stand, then stepped aside. “Be our guest.”
Eleanor held her head high. “Naomi—attack!”
Naomi found her footing, and rage marred her features. She curled her lips back, then sank her fangs into the throat of the burly Executor. Blood sprayed the underbrush, and Lucas shuddered as death filled the forest.
Naomi quickly moved to the next Executor, until she had slaughtered each and every one of them. The priestesses would find their bodies, but their deaths would be attributed to an animal attack. They’d never know Lucas and I were here in the first place.
Naomi returned to Eleanor’s side, licking her lips proudly. The woman patted the lion affectionately, paying no attention to the blood staining her hand.
“Thank you,” Elliot said as he rubbed the bruises on his neck. “You are much kinder than the other witches we met. We could have never gained the upper hand without you.”
Eleanor crossed her arms. “We wouldn’t have to be thanking them if you hadn’t wandered off, Elliot! I had to walk the whole town looking for you.”
“I told you I was going to do research. I’m a professor. That’s my job,” Elliot insisted innocently, before turning to us. “I am Professor Elliot Baine, of the Hawkei tribe, and my wife is Madame Eleanor Doya. We are doing research on supernatural societies, and dare I say, I didn’t realize witches took their hangings so seriously! This cultural experience was wonderful research for my book.”
“Research—” Eleanor sputtered. “Ancestors’ cock, Elliot, we were nearly strangled!”
“All part of the risk of being an anthropologist, my dear,” Elliot said cheerfully. “What is exploration without the threat of an unavoidable, treacherous fate?”
Eleanor’s chest heaved. Her fingers twitched, like she wanted to strangle him herself, but was resisting with all her might.
“By the way, I have to say that your people have a lovely museum,” Elliot added. “You witches have a variety of wonderful magical artifacts on display.”
I shot Lucas a questioning glance. I wasn’t aware we had a museum in Octavia Falls. Lucas shrugged, like he didn’t know what they were talking about.
Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You shouldn’t have been able to get into the museum in the first place. The priestesses said the room was warded.”
“It was warded against witches, not Elementai,” Elliot said. “How was I to know? After all, the ward didn’t affect me!”
“You still should have known better,” Eleanor replied curtly.
Elliot turned back to us and slipped off his backpack. I noticed a blue symbol on the flap—a tear-drop shape with swirling designs in the center. He began digging through his bag. “There must be some way we can repay you.”
“We have nothing to give them, Elliot,” Eleanor pressed. “All you have in there is stale bread, dirty socks, and a journal I daresay is of little use to them.”
Elliot gave a nervous chuckle. “About that… uh, we’ll have to pick up another on our way to Malovia.”
