“I’ve tried, but I cannot lock on it,” Fern told them. “So there was naught to share. It is simply a feeling, not a vision.”

“You must keep trying,” Rebecca urged her fellow witch.

“Of course,” Fern agreed and looked amongst them. “Have any of you felt it?”

All shook their heads.

“I wonder why it is only me,” Fern said, as if to herself.

“Let us hope we don’t discover the answer to that after it’s too late,” Nandra replied.

No one said anything further.

And because of this, they came to realize that some time after their appointed arrival had passed and Ophelia was still not there.

“Do you—?” Fern began.

“I will seek her,” Rebecca stated, and moving to a standing stone, she touched it, and in a flash of green, she disappeared.

The others shuffled around uncomfortably.

But in little time at all, Rebecca had returned.

Her face was pale in the moonlight.

“Ophelia won’t be joining us,” she said quietly.

“Bloody hell,” Lena whispered.

“How bad?” Nandra asked, her eyes sharp on the Dellish sorceress.

“She travels back to The Enchantments,” Rebecca answered. “It is onerous, and the visit to Firenze was vigorous, thus she is weak. Once she arrives home, it will be good for her to be in the lap of magic and sisterhood. She’ll be home in a week. We’ll reconvene a week after.”

“We need a replacement,” Lena said softly.

“My king asked me to remain behind to assist his captain and provide magical aid if needed due to concerns after the attack on the palace. Rebecca can ride out to meet the travelers and there, talk to Melisse who rides with them,” Nandra noted, then looked to the Airenzian witch. “Fern, you must join her in order to add your power.”

“I don’t have leave of my king to travel from Airen,” Fern reminded her.

“How a powerful witch needs bloody leave from a king, I cannot understand,” Nandra snarled.

“I have magic, but I still need breath in my body in order to use it, and a noose hinders that,” Fern spat back.

“We must not quarrel amongst ourselves,” Rebecca said quickly.

Nandra ignored her and instructed Fern, “Spirit away if they should try to detain you.”

“And spirit where?” Fern demanded. “Wodell, where, if found, they will return me on demand? Mar-el, who do not abide strangers very well? The Dome City, where, if I ask for asylum, I might be pressed into being an acolyte? Or Firenze, who is on the verge of war with just about everybody, including themselves, at any moment.”

“The Enchantments, of course,” Nandra retorted.