Free Exiled by Nina Croft Page A

chamber. At the far end, part of the wall had been blasted away and through the breach, she could see the pale ochre of the dawn sky beyond. The gap spilled light into the room clearly illuminating the woman on the low stone couch at the center. She wore a long dress of black cobweb lace and she lay as still as death.
    The Goddess.
    Malachai crouched over her, a long silver dagger in his hand.
    He glanced up an expression of malevolent hatred on his face.
    Callum slowly raised his staff and whispered a word. Malachai flew across the room, slamming into the wall opposite, the knife dropping with a clatter to the flagstones. Callum stalked after him, drawing the sword from the scabbard at his back as he moved.
    Reaching down, he then grasped Malachai by the throat and dragged him to his feet and across the floor. They stood poised at the edge where the gaping hole showed the sky beyond. Callum lashed out with one foot, knocking Malachai’s legs from under him, so he collapsed to his knees.
    Releasing his hold, Callum took a single step back and swung the sword. The blade hardly faltered as it sliced through Malachai’s neck. His head flew from his body and vanished down toward the courtyard below. The rest remained poised for a moment, then Callum kicked him in the chest and the body followed.
    Cass ran to the edge and watched as it spiraled down toward the ground, twisting and tumbling, raining a spray of blood from the severed neck. She’d hated Malachai for so long, and now he was dead. It seemed unreal. She waited to feel something, but her mind remained numb.
    And there was still work to be done. She turned back to where the Goddess lay in enchanted sleep.
    Now Malachai was gone, she would waken as the charms weakened, but who knew how long that would be? Years...centuries. Arroway was dying and they didn’t have the time. They had to waken her.
    They stood at the Goddess’s head. Cass held out a hand to Freya and Shayla and they each slid a palm into hers. She could feel the pulse of magic from the points of contact, but from herself—nothing. She searched deep inside, but her magic refused to respond to her call. Through the gap in the wall, she could see the witches’ moons setting low on the horizon and she willed them to help her. But there was no answer.
    A sense of helplessness invaded her; she’d never considered her magic would refuse to come to her call. “What’s wrong?” Shayla asked. “Why isn’t it working?”
    “Arroway has rejected me. It doesn’t recognize my magic.” She tugged her hands free and touched the small scar on her cheek where the mark had once been.
    “Well make it,” Shayla said.
    Cass nodded. Moon magic was also blood magic. Deep down, she’d always known it would come to this.
    A hand came down on her shoulder as Callum tried to give her comfort. The warmth of his love flooded through her; she was glad he was with her at the end.
    “This finishes, tonight,” she said.
    He squeezed her shoulder. “I know.”
    “What are you talking about?” Freya said. “This isn’t the end.
    It’s the beginning of a new life for us all.”
    “For you. You’ll bring back life to the land. But all I bring is death.” She shrugged off Callum’s hold and crossed the room to where the light glinted off the silver blade Malachai had dropped.
    Picking it up, she held the dagger up to the light. It was sharp; she would hardly feel the cuts.
    She carried it back to where Callum stood. His face filled with sadness but also acceptance. They’d at least had this time to say good-bye.
    “Hold me,” she said.
    He turned her so she faced the Goddess. After wrapping his strong arms around her waist, he pulled her back against the long length of his body as though they were one. It felt so good to be held.She sliced the blade across her right wrist. There was no pain and suddenly the magic awoke inside her. Power streamed along her veins and out of her body through the cut. The sweet,