❛power isn't everything. it's the only thing.❜
[complete]
wattys 2018 winner ❧
Lin is a hunter, one of the magically enhanced witch slayers that roam a flooded world. Under the laws of four Kings and Greymark, who rules them all, Lin is unto...
"Hope can be bruised and battered. It can be forced underground and even rendered unconscious, but hope can never be killed."
—Neal Shusterman
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Leaving was always the hardest part. Honora wove the hallway shadows around herself with a flick of her finger, shielding herself from the guards making their evening rounds. She adjusted the edge of her hood and peered around a corner.
The guards were lighting torches again, muttering in irritation. Their backs went to her as they fumbled with firestarters and dead lighters. Their dying fires turned the concrete halls into flickering beasts of shadow. She smiled and crossed the carpeted floor, vanishing into a bedroom door left ajar. Neither of the guards turned. She pressed close to the wall once inside. It was warmer in the bedroom, magic pooling around someone.
"Mother?" a sleepy voice said from the shadows.
Honora pursed her lips and eased the door shut, the oiled hinges silent. Her loose trousers whispered against each other as she crossed the room to the bed. The room was small, containing nothing more than a closet, a bed, and a second carpet of clothes and books. There wasn't even a window. She picked her way through the mess of her son's room and knelt at his bedside.
She lifted her fingers and blew on them. Sparks rolled down from the tips of her digits into her palm, blossoming into a small flame. She caged her fingers around it and let the fire glow. In the low light, she could see her son sit up, dwarfed by his massive bed.
He rubbed his eyes, hair a tousled shadow in the darkness. He squinted at her and frowned. "What are you doing?"
"I need to go again, darling." Honora hid the tremble in her whisper. He deflated, worried eyes scanning her face.
"That's the second time this week." He matched her volume, aware of the dangers should she be caught. And using magic no less. "You're moving too fast."
Honora couldn't help but smile, reaching out with her unflaming hand to stroke his cheek for a moment. "Don't worry about me. I'll be back come dawn."
"And if you're not?"
A plan. Her little boy always had to have a plan for everything, no matter how remote the possibility. He stared at her seriously, and she knew that he already had all the possibilities laid out in his head. If she didn't tell him what to do, he'd come up with something on his own. Honora breathed in, tense. "Hold your cover no matter what happens. Wait for me to return, and if I'm dead you must tell Ilse to take my place."
"Ilse is too reckless." He clenched his thick blankets. "Let me do something for once. Let me meet with the hunter, I'm more convincing than you."
She gave a forceful smile. "No."
"But I'm--"
"No," she said. The only reason she managed to keep quiet was the fact that she would be killed if anyone found her. "You are the prince, you have a position none of the others have. Our most important piece. Keep the cover."
