(Fyne Witches, #1) The Sun Witch by Linda Winstead Jones

Author:Linda Winstead Jones [Jones, Linda Winstead]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

11

HE ALMOST MISSED it. The scrap of fabric was not tied to a branch but sat on an outcropping of rocks. The flash of yellow caught Kane’s attention and he dismounted.

It would be dark in a few hours, and Sophie would begin her second night as a hostage. That realization caused a moment of panic he could not afford. He should have caught up with her and the abductor by now, since they were on foot and he was on horseback, but he’d passed through some rough terrain that he could have traveled over more quickly by foot, and he was not only riding his own horse but also leading the black gelding he’d purchased for Sophie as they’d left Shandley.

The arrow in the dirt pointed west, and for a moment he turned his attention in that direction.

The arrow was very much like the other signs Sophie had left for him, but something wasn’t right; he felt as much as saw the difference. Instead of hurrying in that direction in order to find the woman he’d lost, he dropped down on his haunches to study the furrow. The depth wasn’t the same as the others—it was deeper—and it wasn’t quite as straight. He lifted his head and stared toward the plains before him, squinting and becoming very still, opening not only his eyes and his mind, but his heart. There was nothing out there. Nothing.

His gut told him Sophie had not made this particular arrow, which meant two things. She was in trouble, and the man who had taken her knew Kane was following.

He looked in the opposite direction, searching for a sign . . . and he found one. The land was barren and had been for miles, but a small cluster of lavender wildflowers had cropped up in an odd pattern. He walked toward them. It was almost as if the flowers formed . . . an arrow.

Kane followed the direction of the wildflower arrow. A few feet away he found footprints. A single set, once again, but deeper, like those he’d discovered leading away from the pond.

The bastard was carrying her.

LIANE TOOK THE lift to Level Seven, where the witch who prepared the potions for Level Three—potions to prevent babies and elixirs to enhance pleasure—resided, along with others of her kind. Emperor Nechtyn’s father had once banned magic altogether, but his son had relaxed the prohibition during his command. The benefits had outweighed the risks.

She did not care for Level Seven. It was dark, much like Level One, and there was always an odd smell in the air. The stench of simmering concoctions and dried herbs was musky and mysterious, and it reminded her of the days when she had not been so privileged as she was today. Her first dose of the concoction meant to keep her childless had been forced down her throat, and her first whiff of the foul potion had made her gag and cry.

These days she didn’t so much as flinch as she swallowed it down.

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