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“It is not a drug causing the problem but something much graver. I’ve seen it in my visions. The warlord requires our aid handling it.”
“Wait, you’re not actually thinking of sending someone?” Fionna couldn’t help her surprise.
“How can I not? The warlord swallowed his pride long enough to ask for help and he wouldn’t have if it weren’t the last recourse.”
“But we’re already short on witches here with enough problems of our own,” Fionna reminded.
“One witch won’t make a difference here but will in Srayth.”
“Are you insane?” Fionna bluntly riposted. “Who are you going to send? You do realize it’s at least a month of travel.” The mountain that separated them from Srayth couldn’t be traversed by foot unless you were a goat. It meant circling south and passing through Ulkruuba.
“It’s only a week if the person flying doesn’t run into issues,” Amelia countered.
“And who will you send? There are currently only two witches capable of flight in residence as the rest are already out on missions.”
“Three actually.”
Fionna briefly wondered who’d returned and why she’d not heard of it but went on to poke holes in Amelia’s reasoning.“You’re still talking about sending them to a place unwelcoming of witches. No one will want to make the trip.”
“They will if I order it.”
The flat reply rounded Fionna’s mouth. “You’d force someone just to cater to this warlord?”
“I’d do this because the matter is more serious than you realize. I’ve seen it. Things in this world are changing, Fionna. Old spirits are stirring. You know firsthand the monsters have returned. Why, just last week we lost a hamlet to a dragon.”
“All the more reason to keep close to home and protect our lands.”
“And what if this problem the warlord encountered spreads? Gets stronger? Then what?”
“These visions you’ve been having?—”
“Are awful,” Amelia interrupted. “Bloodshed, pain, destruction. I just couldn’t see where it all began. This missive was the sign I was waiting for. It is my belief that Srayth is experiencing an awakening of an evil magic long dormant.”
“This doesn’t mention magic.” Fionna pointed to the note. “It says something possessed a soldier. Even if it’s not a drug, it could be any number of things. Remember that parasite we dealt with after the marsh first drained?” It had a rather liberating effect on people’s inhibitions, which didn’t sound bad on the surface until jealous husbands and wives turned violent over it.
“It’s not a parasite. I don’t know what it is, but I have every faith you’ll figure it out.”
“Me!” Fionna screeched as Amelia’s words penetrated.
“Yes, you. You are the best positioned to handle this situation. For one, you can fly, better than most. Two, you have some healing skills.”
“Barely,” Fionna muttered. It was easier to split skin than mend it.
“Three, you’re my best fighter. Four, you’re capable, not given to hysterics or the type to shirk her duty. And finally, you’re too strong-willed to be pushed around by the warlord.”
Or anyone for that matter. Not even the witch queen. “I have better things to do than travel across the mountains to verbally spar with an arrogant warlord who thinks women are chattel.” Most of the cultures on the continent treated women as weak. The witches of the marsh were an exception to that.
“There is nothing more important.”
“Why can’t you send Kalliope? She’s better at the whole healing thing than me,” Fionna half whined, half begged.
“Kalliope would stand out too much, whereas you, with your half-Sraythian blood, will fit right in.”
Fionna grimaced. “I can’t believe you never told me of my savage roots.”
“This mission is of utmost importance, Fionna. There is more to this situation than meets the eye. Much more… If my visions are accurate, then there is a dark force brewing in Srayth and there’s still a chance to stop it before it is unleashed.”
“Shouldn’t you be sending a full coven then?” Thirteen witches who could link their power. Not used in her lifetime, but she’d read about it in the history books.
