XIII

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Willow wasn't sure what else she was supposed to do. She was exhausted. She had spent days looking for Clover now. Weeks, even. She hadn't found a single trace of her. No trace of her except the shoes she had been wearing. She was trying to focus their search around that area, but she couldn't find anything. Until she managed to figure out that there was a strong spell around a certain area.

What she still had to work out was how to break that spell. She didn't know anything about it, except that it was strong and powerful. She was consulting her books and she was trying to break through it with all kinds of different spells, but nothing seemed to work. She wondered whether she might have lost Clover completely, whether it might already be too late, whether all her efforts were useless.

Willow was at her wit's end. There was one more spell that she could try. One she had been saving for the very end if nothing else would work. It wasn't the easiest spell to do, and it could get dangerous. It required blood – her blood to be exact. And it required something that belonged to Clover. Willow hadn't been sure what to use. The shoes weren't strong enough, but there was a little necklace she had left on her nightstand. It was a necklace of a bird, carved out of onyx. Willow didn't know anything about it, but she assumed that Clover had gotten it from someone that meant a lot to her.

Either way, it would have to do the trick. Willow had brought all the things she needed to the edge of the circle – a potion she had made out of some of the more dangerous plants, a sharp knife, the necklace and some little bags and jars for protection. Willow had been fasting for the last three days, in order to do the ritual properly. She hadn't been eating and she had only been drinking water, nothing else.

She wasn't feeling too good when she started to perform the ritual. She was weak from not having eaten for such a long time and she felt dizzy with worry. She hadn't been able to get much sleep, partly because she was hungry, partly because she was worried. Willow knelt down at the edge of whatever ward Avery had cast around them. She uncorked the bottle that had the potion in it and drank all of it in one go, gulping it down quickly. It tasted bitter on her tongue and made her wretch, but she had to keep it down.

And then she had to wait for the effects of the potion to set in. It took about 15 minutes for it to start working. Willow was starting to feel even more dizzy, and she could feel how everything was getting more intense. She hoped that she hadn't somehow used the wrong dose, because that might well have killed her. Once she was feeling the effects, she waited another five minutes, fighting to stay awake and to keep the potion down. Then she took the knife, her hands shaking. She took a deep breath and slashed the palm of her hand open. The blood started coming out almost immediately.

Willow dropped the knife and took the necklace in her bleeding hand, closing her eyes and muttering the incantations over and over again until she felt something breaking. It seemed to be working. But she had to complete the ritual to be sure of that. She repeated the incantations until she had done so nine times. It was only then she got up and could walk into the area that was formerly warded off.

Willow's knees were feeling weak, and she felt like she was going to faint any moment – not the condition she wanted to be in when she faced Avery, king of the fae. But it couldn't be helped. She'd just have to put on a strong face and deal with it. Her palm was hurting awfully, but she kept clutching the necklace in her hand. She couldn't let go or this might all have been for nothing. And it would take her days to recover from this spell. Willow walked towards the sound of flowing water. Of course, they would stay somewhere where they would have access to water. It made sense. Willow kept walking.

It didn't take long for her to spot them. Clover's fiery red hair was easy to see, and Avery was an imposing figure in his own right. He was holding her close to his chest, running his long fingers through her hair. Willow tried to gather all her mental strength. She had learned how to deal with fae, but even she wasn't immune to everything. She still needed to be on her guard when she faced him.

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