But as I resolutely turned and followed the faint path through the trees and the darkness, I couldn’t help my trepidation. There were some things that even I—trained as I was by two of the best guardians the Directorate had ever produced—couldn’t fight alone. And I had a bad feeling that I was walking toward one of them now.
As my eyes became adjusted to the darkness, I became aware of shapes looming through the trees. Small buildings that smelled of incense, smoke, and ancient magic, as well as various silent, unmoving figures who hunched in the shadows—concrete monoliths hung with moss and lichens.
It wasn’t really what I’d imagined a witch’s ritual site would look like, but then this place was supposedly far older than even the coven that no longer used it.
The path meandered its way through the trees, sometimes widening into broader clearings but generally remaining little more than a goat track.
The wind was cool and fresh, smelling faintly of decomposing forest matter, eucalyptus, and the musky hint of animal. Probably kangaroo, given they were considered a pest in the Macedon region.
But the farther I walked into the mountain’s heart, the stronger another scent became—humanity, accompanied by the faint hint of roses. The scent of a woman rather than a man.
I slowed my steps and proceeded more cautiously. Ahead, through the trees, the darkness was lifted by a fierce orange glow that sent sparks cascading into the air and filled the night with the raw aroma of burning greenwood.
My fingers twitched with the need to reach for the stake, but as yet nothing and no one had threatened me. To walk in there expecting trouble might just encourage it.
The light of the fire grew stronger, until the shadows and the night were banished and the air rode with warmth and electricity.
It wasn’t a normal fire. Not completely. The flames moved and danced in a manner that seemed almost controlled—as if there was a being inside them that stirred them to life.
And yet I could feel no life other than myself and the woman who stood so close to the fire.
Fear tripped lightly down my spine, but I ignored it, pausing in the cover of the trees to study the clearing beyond.
The fire dominated the center of the rough circle, the wood piled high and burning fiercely. The witch stood so close to the flames that her skin had an orange glow and her hair seemed to flicker. There was no one else in the clearing. My gaze swept the grass. I couldn’t even see a protection circle, which seemed unusual.
"I know you’re there," she said, her voice clear and untroubled. "The magic of this place warned me the minute you breached its boundaries."
I walked into the lighted clearing but stopped halfway to the fire. The heat of the blaze scalded my skin, and I had no idea how she was managing to stand so close.