When she was sure she couldn’t run another step, the trees thinned, and she caught a glimpse of pale sunlight glinting off the sea. Waves crashed against barnacle-crusted rocks, sending up flying spray. They burst out of the woods to find Endera and her two cronies standing amid scattered piles of seaweed and driftwood. A large raven was perched on a rock in front of Endera.
At their arrival, Endera held up Thor’s hammer. “Don’t come any closer. I’m taking this back to Madame Hestera, and together we are going to rid the coven of that he-witch, and then the war can really begin.”
“Yes,” the raven cawed. “Madame Hestera awaits her prize. Sadly, she is going to be disappointed.”
A shiver ran up Abigail’s spine. It couldn’t be … but that oily rasp was unmistakable. “Endera, that’s not Hestera’s raven.”
“Of course it is,” Endera snapped. She turned back to the raven. “Bristle, what do you mean, disappointed? I have what she asked. Where is the ship she promised?”
“The ship has sunk,” the bird rasped back.
“Sunk?”
The raven flared its wings. “Give me the hammer, and I will take it to her.”
Endera laughed. “You? You’re nothing but a feathered bag of bones. I’m not giving her pet the most powerful weapon in this world.”
“I think you will,” it said.
The raven’s body puffed out into a round ball and grew in size, doubling and then tripling. Feathers flew in the air as it shook. Its wings shifted and turned into arms. Splayed talons turned into booted feet. The black head morphed and grew and shimmied until, with a loud pop, Vertulious appeared, wearing his familiar blue robes.
“You,” Endera whispered.
“Me.” He spread his arms. “Ah, it gets tiresome being cramped in such a small body. I missed my arms and legs.”
Endera raised her hand to throw the hammer, but Vertulious snapped his fingers, and she froze, captured in his spell.
“Tsk, tsk, plotting behind my back. I will have words with Madame Hestera next I see her.” He undid the belt at her waist, and the heavy hammer dropped to the sand. The gauntlets slipped off her hands. The old alchemist lifted the items and strapped them on.
Behind Vertulious, the red-eyed shreek-Omera landed in the sand, snarling and baring vicious teeth.
Vertulious turned to Abigail. “Come with me. This war will be our shared victory.”
“I’ll never follow you,” Abigail snapped.
“Pity. You know who you are, do you not?”
“I know exactly who I am. Abigail Tarkana. Witch. Loyal member to my coven. But also loyal to this world.”
He shook his head. “You sell yourself short. There can be only one Curse Breaker, and while I like to pretend it is me, there is no mystery as to who the real Curse Breaker is.”
“What do you mean?” Abigail’s heart thudded in her chest.
“You know it is you. Deny it all you want. It remains true.”
“The prophecy wasn’t even real,” she said. “Rubicus just made that up after he met me.”
“No. The prophecy was a promise he made to Odin before he met you. Call it a time warp paradox—in the first version he hadn’t met you, but he swore someone would come along and break Odin’s curse. Then when he met you, he knew it would happen. He was just wrong about how. Right the first time.”
“You’re lying.”
“I lie about many things, but not this. I traced your bloodline, you know. The Tarkanas were a weaker offshoot of the Volgrim witches, but your bloodline traces back directly to Rubicus himself.” He swung a leg over the back of the Omera. “Last chance to join with me.”
“I’m going to destroy you.”
Vertulious laughed and reached into the pocket of his robe to pull out a shiny red apple. He bit into the flesh, savoring the bite. “Not as long as I have a collection of these delicious apples, my dear.”
Shock rooted Abigail in place. “But you can’t … there was only one.”
“One is all it takes if you are crafty and harvest the seeds.”
“You planted a tree,” she said in disbelief.
His smile mocked her. “I will live for eternity, while you will die here along with your friends.” He cast his hand out over the sand, murmuring indistinct words before the shreek-Omera launched into flight.
Hugo came to Abigail’s side. “Die with your friends? What did he mean by that?”
“Um, I think he meant those.” Robert drew his sword as several green serpents burst through the sand, rearing their heads up and hissing.
Chapter 25
“What are they?” Abigail jumped back, sending a small streak of witchfire at the closest one. “Sand snakes. Very poisonous.” Rego swung his sword at a pair, neatly removing their heads. “One bite and you’re a goner. We need to get off the sand and back into the trees.”
“You! This is all your fault!” Endera launched herself at Abigail, catching her by surprise and knocking her back onto the sand. “You killed my mother,” she screamed, wrapping her hands around Abigail’s throat. “You ruined everything!”
Abigail clawed at Endera’s hands, but she couldn’t unlock the girl’s grip. Stars danced behind her eyelids. And then something shoved Endera off her.
She gasped in air, shocked to see the stocky figure of Glorian over her. “We have bigger problems, Endera. We need Abigail’s help.”
Endera snarled, getting to her feet and calling up a ball of witchfire, but a snake burst out of the sand in front of her, and she quickly threw the witchfire at it instead, incinerating it.
Around them, more and more snakes popped out of the sand, forcing their group to take refuge on a small pile of rocks. The witchlings threw blasts of witchfire while the dwarfs and Robert hacked at the snakes with their swords, but no matter how many they struck down, more appeared.
“What do we do?” Abigail said, panting. “We can’t hold them off forever.”
“Ahoy!” a voice called. “Need a ride?”
“Jasper!” Abigail had never been so happy to see his ragged ship at anchor. The old sailor bobbed in the sea a few yards from shore in a small rowboat.
“I can’t take you all at once,” he warned.
“I’m going first.” Endera shoved her way forward. She sprayed witchfire across the sand, driving the serpents back, and then raced toward the water with Nelly and Glorian at her heels.
“Hugo, go. Don’t be brave,” Abigail added as he started to argue. “You don’t have a weapon.”
Hugo gave in and raced after the others, dodging snakes that popped up at his feet.
“You too,” Rego said to Abigail, but she refused.
“No. My witchfire will hold them off.”
“I’ll help.” Safina took a fighting stance on a rock at Abigail’s side.
Rego nodded at Mullet and Obie. The pair hobbled across the sand, hacking at the snakes that snapped at their ankles.
Jasper began rowing the boat back to his ship, leaving them alone on the beach.
The snakes crowded closer, slithering over the tops of the rocks, more and more appearing with every passing second.