Page 43 of Little Witch

They'd finally be free.

I took a breath, glancing at Rowan first, then Orias. Rowan's eyes met mine, glowing that familiar pink bleeding into violet, steady in a way that had kept me grounded through this entire ordeal. He gave me a small, reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. Orias stood on my other side, doing the same, his own eyes a shade brighter, more restless, though his grip on my hand stayed just as steady.

"We've got this," Rowan said softly. "A Rose, and two Thornes. We can handle it."

I nodded, though my heart still hammered against my ribs. I wanted to believe him. Needed to. But the weight of what we were about to do pressed down harder the closer we got to actually doing it.

We gathered around the circle drawn into the floor, each of us taking a point. Rowan and Cian stood across from me, faces tense but focused. Orias took the point to my left, Dad to my right, both of them wearing the same mix of determination and barely-contained nerves I felt sitting in my own chest. I looked down at the book in my hands, the spell we'd stumbled into days earlier by pure, ridiculous accident. The words hummed faintly under the candlelight, like they were waiting for us to finally use them properly.

This was it.

"Ready?" Dad asked, voice calm despite everything.

I swallowed hard. "Ready."

Rowan and Cian began first, hands moving in unison as they summoned wind between them. A soft breeze stirred, growing stronger with every second as they worked the elemental magic together. The candle flames danced but didn't go out, the air gathering into a slow, deliberate vortex that filled the room with a low hum.

Orias went next, his shadow curling thick and dark around both hands, weaving through the base of the vortex Rowan and Cian had already built, threading darkness through wind in a way that made the whole circle pulse with something heavier, older. I felt the shift of it against my skin, cold and electric at once.

Then Dad stepped forward, reciting the words he'd spent days memorizing, every inflection deliberate. As he spoke, the runes on the floor began to glow, faint at first, then bright, pulsing in time with his voice. The air thickened around us, the whole Sanctum feeling like it was waking up from something.

Then it was my turn.

I gripped the book tight and spoke the final words. My voice shook at first, but as I kept going the magic answered, surging through me like a current finally finding ground. The wind intensified, the shadows thickened, the light from the runes climbed bright enough to sting behind my eyes. I closed them, feeling the power hum under my skin, and for one long moment the whole world seemed to still, waiting.

Then, with a soft click, the door to the Sanctum opened.

My eyes flew open. A crack of light at first, then the door swinging wide, revealing the world beyond it. We all froze, staring at it like we couldn't quite trust what we were seeing.

"It worked," Rowan whispered.

Dad let out a shaky laugh, eyes wide. "It actually worked."

We moved together, hesitant at first, like disbelief was slowing our feet down on purpose. Rowan stepped through first, hand still locked with mine, and I followed, heart pounding with something close to joy. Orias came right behind me, and Cian and Dad brought up the rear, both their faces lit with hope and the faint edge of terror that came with returning somewhere that hadn't been home in a very long time.

Then the world shifted the second we stepped outside.

Our luck ran dry.

Everything around us went dark. The sky, bright with moonlight a second earlier, vanished under an inky black, air turning bitter cold like the light itself had been drained straight out of the earth. I gasped, yanking my hand free from Rowan's on instinct, backing up a step.

"Wait — what's happening?"

Before anyone could answer, a low growl rolled through the dark. My blood ran cold as shapes emerged from the treeline, twisting and contorting as they slithered toward us. The same shadow-things from before. Except this time there were dozens of them, more than any of us had ever fought at once.

Rowan's eyes flared as he stepped in front of me. "Stay behind me!"

Orias's shadow poured off him instantly, matching the dark around us blow for blow, and Cian and Dad readied themselves beside him, all three men bracing for what came next. The air turned into a whirlwind of wind and dark magic, Rowan and Cian slashing gusts through the closest shapes while Orias moved like liquid shadow himself, tearing into anything that got too close.

Dad's voice rose above the chaos, bolts of light shooting from his hands, striking creature after creature. But even combined, all that power barely made a dent. For every one of them that fell apart, two more slid out of the treeline to replace it.

I stood frozen, watching Rowan blast one creature apart with a gust sharp enough to hear bone crack, Orias tearing another into nothing with his bare hands, Cian and Dad working in perfect, practiced sync beside them.

I tried to move. To help. My feet felt nailed to the ground.

I had a smidgen of witch's blood, sure. But I wasn't a real witch. I was a baker who liked pumpkin pie and cats and closing up shop early on slow Tuesdays. A mostly-human girl standing uselessly in the middle of a battle three demons and a witch were fighting on my behalf.

A creature lunged straight at my throat. I ducked on instinct, stumbling backward hard enough to nearly go down.