Chapter 3, Witchlight

Plus a Waterstones prę-order sale!

Waterstones Pre-order Sale!

Before I dive in to our next Witchlight sneak peek, there’s just ONE DAY LEFT to grab The Executioners Three with a 25%-off coupon.

Use the code PREORDER25 and find the book right here.

---

Witchlight Early Access

One more thing before I get to the next sneak peek of Witchlight: I’ve put together a special place for EARLY ACCESS. This is where I’ll put links for each new sneak peek, and I’ve got them in order.

So if you’re new to the sneak peeks, you can just head there and find it all exactly like it will be in the book!

You’ll notice, of course, that some sneak peeks aren’t listed yet. That’s because we’re not to them chronologically…

But WE WILL GET THERE! Because I’m going to share a ton of this book in “early access” with you before November.

😘

Now finally, onto the next chapter from our gal Vivia!

---

Art by Nipuni

Chapter Three

Vivia Nihar stared at the doorway before her, a sliver of blue light carved into limestone. Lush ferns hugged it close, brushing their fingers against the edges. A snag of grapevines too, with their leaves fluttering on a salted breeze. Cicadas clicked in the thick foliage. A gull cried overhead.

And magic shivered against Vivia, rolling in waves that matched the nearby sea. Each caress made her hairs stand more on end and her teeth grind inside her ears. She knew of these doorways, but seeing one was different from hearing about them. And having one simply appear overnight near Noden’s Gift was downright alarming.

“See?” Cam said, motioning with his floppy limbs to the light. “That’s it. That’s a door that’ll take you into the mountain. I don’t know where it will take us, exactly, but I’m pretty sure once we’re inside, I can find the under-city in Lovats.”

“Pretty sure?” Vivia’s eyebrows lifted.

“Very sure,” Cam amended. The boy had come sprinting into the captain’s cabin in Noden’s Gift half an hour ago, hollering about magic doors and secret tunnels and sneaking into Lovats, then Azmir with soldiers. Then he’d half dragged Vivia and Vaness all the way to the seashore, just below the Origin Well perched atop its fox-shaped peak.

“It is…small.” This came from the Empress of Marstok, who stood on Cam’s other side. She had lately taken to wearing a Nubrevnan style blouse tucked into sailor’s breeches. It suited her. Softened her imperial lines—as did the sea and tides nearby, always tugging her hair from her bun. The only reminder at all of who she was were the iron bracelets she was never without.

Right now, they swiveled like snakes around her wrists. “I do not see how we can fit soldiers through there, much less the forces needed to claim back Lovats or Marstok.”

“Right.” Cam nodded as if he hadn’t just proposed they do precisely that. “Well, we could go single file. Then…you know: hope the doors don’t close up behind us.”

“Right,” Vaness said, mimicking him. “The doors closing up behind—a minor detail. Not worth fretting over.” She fixed her gaze onto Vivia, eyes hooded. The heat of midday daubed color onto her cheeks. “As you know, I have traveled these doorways, your Majesty. So while I certainly appreciate and understand their utility, I also understand their dangers. For one, if we can use them, then so can the enemy—which, you may recall, they did do when the Raider King tried to invade Lovats.”

Of course Vivia recalled. And with stark clarity she’d prefer didn’t haunt her sleep most nights. Ragnor’s troops and his seafire had gotten much too close to destroying the entire capital. Her capital.

“For two,” the empress went on, “as Cam has already pointed out, these doors do have a tendency to open and shut without warning. You and I have walked by this spot every evening for a month, and only now is there a magic doorway appearing.

“And for three,” Vaness finished, her voice regal and commanding, “when I was in the mountain with Safiya fon Hasstrel and her Hell-Bards, the cavern was in a state of total collapse. Stones falling everywhere. Ice crawling and eating all in its path. It is not a space I would take anyone through, whom I wanted to keep safe. So not an army, and certainly not…you.”

Vivia felt her face warm. Her chest too, and she had to force a breath through her nose. A big inhale that expanded her uniform and made old buttons wink in the sun. It was hot at this hour of midday, but there were appearances to maintain. Vivia was queen, even if her father had fortified himself in Lovats and refused to give up the throne.

Vivia inched closer to the door. Magic scraped and tugged against her. With cautious fingers, she brushed aside a fern. Carvings appeared on the stone. Triangular shapes worn down by weather and time. Familiar, although Vivia had no idea why.

Think beyond, came a voice that sounded like her mother’s.

“Are you listening?” Vaness demanded.

“Hye, hye,” Vivia mumbled, although truth be told, while she’d heard what Vaness had uttered, she’d also immediately discarded it. Because this was the first change in fortune she’d had in a month. Serafin had lifted the siege chain, sealing off all of Lovats in a magical dome through which no enemy could pass, and for weeks, Vivia, Vaness, Cam, and Shanna, the lead captain from Vivia’s Foxes, had tried to devise a ways into the capital.

They could wage war directly at the Sentries of Noden, where the siege chain connected. Or they could send stealth units in through the Cisterns. Or they could turn their attention to Azmir and hope to reclaim Vaness’s throne first instead.

But none of it had seemed viable, so instead, they’d done nothing. And the sitting still was proving a very, very quick path to madness.

Serafin was holed up in a city with only limited provisions and tens of thousands of refugees from across Nubrevna. The citizens would starve if Vivia didn’t do something. Soon.

A snarl of wind flew across her. Sand scraped her cheeks, and salt burned her nose. The ferns she held whipped and waved.

“How do we know,” she asked carefully, “that this goes where you think it does, Cam? Maybe it doesn’t lead inside your mountain at all.”

He winced. “S’not my mountain, Majesty. It’s the Sightwitch’s. And…well…” He shrugged. “I don’t know where it goes. But I could go through. Right now. See what’s on the other side.”

“And what if it you step into a trap?” Vaness snapped. “What if this was all designed by the Raider King? Or by the usurpers of Marstok and Nubrevna? What if you find yourself a prisoner—or worse, dead? Then, what, First Mate?”

Cam gulped.

“Or,” Vaness continued, the flush on her cheeks reaching her neck. Her ears. “What if this magic is simply fickle, as you yourself suggested, and the door seals up behind you? Then you will be stuck inside the mountain for all of time.”

Cam blanched, setting off the pale spots on his face. He looked sick. He looked frightened. “You’re…right. Of course you’re right, your Imperial Majesty. I’m sorry I even suggested such an idea. I wasn’t thinking.”

Vaness’s iron faltered. “Well…” Her gaze flicked to Vivia’s.

And Vivia pursed her lips in a way that said: We discussed this, Vaness. You’re supposed to be nicer to everyone.

“You…should…not be sorry, Cam.” Vaness tried to smile. It was terrifying. “It was a good idea. In theory. Just one that I fear is too risky. But, I do appreciate you thinking in new ways.”

Think beyond, Vivia thought again, and she frowned once more at the door. At its bewitching glow. At the carvings she could almost—although only almost—swear she had seen somewhere before. Probably in the under-city or the Cisterns. Lovats had so many secret corners and ancient passages.

Including the underground lake surrounded by foxfire that only she knew about.

“We’ll station guards here,” Vivia said, finally withdrawing from the door. “I’ll let Shanna choose who—unless you’ve an opinion on the matter, your Imperial Majesty?”

Vaness rolled her eyes. “Of course not, your Royal Majesty. I trust your Fox Captain to choose wisely.”

Vivia smiled and opted not to point out the thirty-seven times (and counting) that Vaness had very openly not trusted Shanna’s wisdom. “Thank you, Cam,” she told the boy as she released the ferns and backed away from the limestone. The magic’s charge receded. “As our esteemed Marstoki empress here just said—”

Vaness sniffed primly.

“—it’s good for us to be thinking in new ways. So keep the ideas coming, please.”

“Hye, Majesty.” Cam saluted, fist over heart. “I’ll try.”

“I know, Cam. You always do.”

---

It had become their nightly routine, to sit beside the Origin Well and watch the sun set over the Jadansi—while a contingent of guards waited at the bottom of the stairs up to the Well and patrolled the beach. There were various advisors too, some from the Foxes, some from vizerial holdings across Nubrevna. And then there were the supplicants, the sycophants, the people that always seemed to want something now that Vivia and Vaness had proven their dominance against Dalmotti.

So this time beside the Well was sacred. No one, not even Cam, was allowed to interrupt.

The Empress of Marstok always sat on a stool on the left; Vivia always sat on a stool the right; and together, they watched the day end in the west and the night awaken in the east. The Water Well burbled behind them. The sea’s breeze gusted ceaselessly, and the river that the Well fed into churned and chopped.

So much water.

And all of it calling to Vivia. Listen to us, little fox. Use us and control us.

Vivia wished she could. Every hour, every second, the hunger ached inside her. A craving that could never be sated. A love that must remain unrequited. Come, little fox. Be one with us, like you used to be.

Vivia knew if she relented, it wouldn’t be she who was in control. Because that had already happened against the Dalmotti navy. It had been too much. Vivia and Vaness had barely come back from that deluge of water and iron taking over their minds.

So ever since, Vivia had avoided the the salty, enticing currents in the Jadansi forever shouting her name. She’d avoided the nearby river and the Well just behind. She could be beside, but she could never go in.

How Vaness kept iron always upon her, Vivia couldn’t comprehend.

Then again, Vaness was the Destroyer of Kendura Pass. Her power had manifested young, and perhaps the thought of being without the iron frightened her more than the thought of iron claiming her soul. It hadn’t escaped Vivia’s notice how often Vaness rubbed at her Witchmark. A square tattoo for Earth and a single vertical line for iron.

And whenever Vaness rubbed, Vivia automatically did the same. Like right now, her thumb massaged the upside-down triangle with a wave inside.

She dropped both hands to her sides. “I want to go through the door,” she declared, lifting her voice over the breeze.

Vaness didn’t look away from the flaming sky. Her hand didn’t stop pressing at her Witchmark. “No.”

“Ahtset,” Vivia countered, angling toward the empress. They spoke in Marstoki, as they always did on these nights. Silly as it might seem, Vivia felt she owed to the empress. In all ways, Vaness had made a true effort to adapt to Nubrevna: she wore the clothes, she braided her hair, and she spoke Nubrevnan all day long.

So a few words in Marstoki? It was the least Vivia could do. Besides, it was good practice for a queen.

“Don’t dismiss the idea, Vaness, simply because you’re worried it’s a trap. What if it’s not a trap? What if the door just opened up because the magic is fickle—and what if it stays? Then imagine the strategy we could have on our hands.”

“I am imagining,” Vaness said flatly, “and all I see is violent death.” Her left bracelet slithered up her arm to form a band near her shoulder.

“Because you’re assuming the mountain is the same as when you went through it. But what if it’s like when Cam went through? What if it’s not collapsing, and he could navigate us to Lovats? It’s a brilliant idea—you have to admit that. Just as it was brilliant of the Raider King.”

“I do not have to admit anything.”

Vivia sighed at the empress. With curt movements, she removed her coat, folded it—buttons gleaming—and set it carefully beside her stool. Then she unbuttoned the top of her uniform shirt.

The freedom and the breeze felt divine.

She might not be able to touch the sea, but she could at least taste it.

“If I could sneak into Lovats,” Vivia continued, “I could disable my father without any bloodshed. He would surrender the instant he saw me. It’s why he lifted the siege chain: he is terrified to face me.”

Vaness’s right bracelet now slithered up like the first. Two armbands twining around her. But Vivia couldn’t help but notice there was a stuttering rhythm—and she recognized that stutter because she felt it too, whenever she reached for the tides.

Vaness stopped her iron. For several breaths, the wind batted loose tendrils across her face. Then she finally swiveled a cool expression Vivia’s way. . “Let us assume, for argument’s sake, that your plan actually works. You face Serafin, you claim the crown. Then what? You cannot believe the navy and Soil-Bound will simply fall in line. The people of Lovats might have loved you once, but your father has painted you a traitor.”

This was unfortunately true. “All the more reason,” Vivia countered, “to avoid bloodshed. I can remove my father from the throne, then confront the vizers. At least a few are loyal to me—especially now that three of their daughters have joined us in Noden’s Gift. Then I will lower the siege chain and the magic barrier bound to it, so the Foxes and all our Dalmotti ships can finally sail in with food and goods and…” She shrugged.

And Vaness’s face softened with something almost pitying.

Vivia hated it.

“Vivia.” The empress scooted her stool closer. She was always so careful to use Vivia’s title when they were in Noden’s Gift. But here, on their nightly talks beside the Well, she always used Vivia’s name.

And Vivia always used hers. “Vaness,” she replied.

“I think you overestimate how easily your father will back down.”

“Maybe,” Vivia admitted, although she didn’t want to. It was bad enough having her own father turn against her. A man she’d loved. Revered. But he’d allied with the Dalmotti navy just to keep Vivia from claiming the throne that was her birthright.

And in all truth, if she actually believed he were the better person to lead Nubrevna, she would leave him on that throne. But good leaders didn’t cling to a crown. They didn’t send an enemy navy simply to keep their own daughter out of a city. And they didn’t lift a siege chain, effectively cutting off that city from food, medicine, fuel, or anything else they would need to survive.

Nubrevnans would die if Serafin didn’t lift that siege chain. And Serafin didn’t care at all.

The empress leaned closer, reaching for Vivia’s hands. Vivia let her take them. Let the empress’s warm fingers weave into her own. And she let Vaness dip all the way to her. Until their foreheads touched.

“If we are going to do this,” Vaness whispered, “then I think we should do so in secret. We can tell Captain Quintay what we intend, but we must leave her in Noden’s Gift—and make it seem we are still here. The element of surprise against your father will not last long.”

Vivia swallowed. Her grip tightened on the empress.

“Cam will have to come, of course, as our guide. For although I was in the mountain, I was running for my life and remember almost nothing. But no one else can join us—and no one can know what we intend.”

“But…” Vivia’s voice broke slightly. “What if you’re right? What if it is a trap?”

“Then we will use our magic.” The two armbands coiled down. Down. Then slid across onto Vivia’s wrists. For several long seconds, the two women were shackled together. “I know we both struggle to control and contain our magics lately, but we are still witches. And powerful ones.”

“Ahtset.” Vivia agreed, staring at the iron that bound them. A month ago, she would have been petrified by this nearness. Her heart would have lodged somewhere in her throat. Her mouth would have dried out. Her brain would have ceased all function.

But now she was…if not comfortable, at least accustomed. Something wound between her and Vaness. Vivia knew what she hoped it was, but it was not something she could act upon right now. Responsibility and crowns were a siege chain in their way.

Or at least, that was what Vivia told herself. That was why she never leaned in a few more inches—and why the empress never did either.

“Just promise me…” Vaness wet her lips. They were so red at this burning hour. “If we cannot get through the mountian—if it seems too dangerous for either of us or for Cam—then we will return. Immediately.”

“I promise,” Vivia agreed.

And the empress of Marstok smiled. A sad, almost resigned thing. Her iron returned to her wrists. Her spine returned to steel. Together, both women angled their attention anew on the wildfire sky.

“Tonight?” Vivia asked after several minutes. There was so much she should wrap up before she left, but also so much that would fall into place if she could just get into Lovats again.

“Ahtset,” the empress agreed quitely. “Tonight.”

---

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more soon!

💚 - Sooz