The Sage Read online

  The Sage

  Witch's Ambitions Trilogy

  Book Three

  Kayla Krantz

  Dedication

  Always let your voice be heard.

  Witch's Ambitions Trilogy

  Book One: The Council

  Book Two: The Elemental Coven

  Book Three: The Sage

  Chapter One

  All is Fair

  I LOVE YOU.

  Those three words are the cure-all, end-all of pain. For some people, the world stops when they hear that phrase from their favorite person; for others, it’s a reason to keep going, to keep fighting when they’ve lost all other hope. Love is a magical element, and even we magical beings don’t quite fully understand it.

  This especially applies to me. I’ve never been the overly affectionate type, but Clio had been the death of that. Long before he confessed his feelings, I had always felt he was special in a way no other person was. Talking with him is easy. In those early days of Ignis, we’d dive deep into a conversation, and the world would disappear around us, like we were the only people in existence. We had a lot of moments like that—insignificant to everyone but us. Those moments built our relationship, solidified our friendship. They were an anchor holding us in place while the world raged around us.

  When I suffered with my healing and Clio lost his parents, we were there for each other.

  But things change—not always for the worst.

  I’ve discovered different aspects of humanity in the Elemental Coven, my newest lesson being that love can be expressed in more ways than just words. Now, cradled in Clio’s arms, I focus only on him, what he means to me, and how lost I’d be without him. If that focus slips away, everything will end. I look up, staring deep into Clio’s eyes, wishing those three magic words would fall from his lips so I can ignore the new pit of agony rising in me. I can’t walk.

  My mother abandoned me to certain death.

  My legs had been rendered useless in the battle.

  One by one, the pieces fall into place, and I don’t like the picture they form.

  Love should make none of this matter, but that’s not how it works, and I can’t wish away the pain.

  “Stay with me,” he says, his hand cupping my cheek.

  I barely hear him as my eyelids flutter, and a second later, the blackness reclaims me.

  Chapter Two

  Reunion

  WHEN MY EYES open again, the whiteness of the room comes to me in spots—just small, bright flecks breaking through the darkness. Then the pain follows, thoroughly gripping and by far stronger than anything I’ve felt in a long time. My fingers tense, clutching the fabric beneath me as I wait for the wave to pass.

  My left leg hurts, but that’s nothing new. But the pain wiggling into my right leg is definitely a first. With that thought, the memory comes rushing back—icicles spearing both my legs; Grail; the battle. I scream out in a mix of physical and emotional agony. My shaky fingers try to reach out, to touch the bandages wrapped around my legs, but I can’t do it.

  I’m so afraid of what I’ll find there—to see how bad the damage really is.

  “Lilith! Lilith, look at me!” Fingers press gently into my shoulder.

  I tear my eyes away from the bandages the second I realize I’m not alone. Clio is beside me, black hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot. I recognize that look; he hasn’t slept. Most likely, he’s stayed by my side since they brought me in. I wonder how long ago that was. The bandages on my legs look clean and dry. There’s no telling how many times my dressings have been changed since we returned.

  “Are you in pain?” Ambrossi asks. “Where does it hurt?” My Healer stands on the other side of my bed, and I swivel my head toward him.

  “Everywhere,” I manage and rest my head on the pillow again. Even those small movements drain me of what little energy I have.

  I hear footsteps; Ambrossi is on the move. I don’t look at him. Clio strokes my hair and the side of my face, but I don’t look at him, either. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him—I spent weeks thinking he was dead—so I should be overjoyed that he’s here now, that he’s still alive. But I feel numb. I stare up at the ceiling, then it all comes back to me and I recognize where we are.

  This is the hospital wing in the Community Villa of the Elemental Coven. I think of my sister Willow and wonder where she is right now. I’m both surprised and hurt that she’s not already in here at my side.

  Someone offers a glass of water, and I turn my head enough to see Clio. He smiles, thin lips barely moving on his pale face as he extends the cup to me. It feels like we’ve been apart so much longer than it’s actually been, but I can’t deny that he looks different. His varying scars and the haunted shadow in his eyes make him look older, somehow.

  I force myself to smile back and take the cup, swigging down the water. It makes me cough once.

  “Careful,” Clio warns, but I don’t look at him until the cup is empty.

  He raises his eyebrow, like he’s certain I’ll be sick after drinking too much too fast. But I don’t feel nauseous; I feel more focused, sharper. Again, that leaves me to wonder how long I’ve been in this bed. How long I’ve been unconscious.

  “How do you feel now?” Ambrossi asks as he pries the empty glass from my fingers.

  “Better.” I cough so hard again, a mouthful of water sprays out of me.

  Clio reaches out to gently rub my back as I catch my bearings. I have to ask these next questions, and I can’t bring myself to look at anything but the bandages on my legs. Two of the people I love are in this room, but there are still far too many out there, and I don’t even know if they’re okay.

  “Where’s Helena?” I’m still not sure I really want to know the answer, but I close my eyes and wait for a reply. Crowe’s words rise in the back of my mind—his mention of a dead witch when I asked about my mother and best friend, right as I was captured by the Council.

  No one speaks for so long that eventually, I open my eyes, and I see her—Helena, ethereal glow making her more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her before. She stands just inside the door, a smile growing on her porcelain face as she gazes back at me.

  In situations like this, I’ve found myself thinking less and less and instead relying on reflex. I regret that instantly when I end up flinging myself off the table to get to her. My chin cracks against the hard white floor, and my teeth snap together, sending an ache all the way up into my brain. I hardly notice the pain when she rushes to my side.

  I heard Clio yell my name, and now he’s on the floor beside me too, but I don’t look at him. Helena pulls me into her arms. I grab her as tightly as I can and bury my face in her shoulder, bawling my eyes out.

  “How’d you get out?” I ask, needing the answer more than I’ve needed anything in my life. For a time, I assumed she was the dead witch Crowe mentioned. When she projects her thoughts to me in the form of her memories, I realize now that she was. She played dead when the Council came, and they believed it.

  ‘It’s okay. I’m okay,’ Helena reassures me.

  I squeeze her tighter, still not quite able to believe her. It seems as if every time someone tells me things are okay, the complete opposite is true.

  Helena turns her head, and I realize Clio has shifted closer. He reaches out a tentative hand and settles it on my shoulder. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

  He doesn’t move until I bob my head in consent. Then his arms wrap around me, slowly taking Helena’s place, and he lifts me easily to set me back down on the hard mattress. The smallest hint of a smile appears on his lips, but the concern in his eyes is hard to miss. I don’t like that concern, but amid the fray in my mind right now, it’s a lower priority.

  “Where’s Ivy?” I don’t have
to say it out loud for Helena to hear me, but I do.

  Clio’s face scrunches in confusion, but he follows my gaze to Helena, trying to read her expression for clues of what I’m talking about. Uncomfortable in the spotlight, Helena drops her head to break the connection, and I know why before she says a word. I won’t want to hear this, she doesn’t want to say this, but because I asked, she’ll tell me.

  “She’s gone.”

  The way she says it, I know Ivy isn’t dead—it’s worse. She ran away again, once more thinking of herself over me, over Willow, and I don’t know what to say. So I say nothing. I sit still, blinking rapidly to keep my tears from falling.

  “Give us a moment, please,” Clio says, looking first at Ambrossi then Helena.

  “Of course,” Ambrossi says and places his hand on Helena’s back, guiding her out the door.

  When the door clicks closed, I look at him, at the exhaustion on his face, most prominent in his eyes.

  “Who’s Ivy?” he asks, reaching up to swipe a fat tear off my cheek with his thumb.

  I sniffle, lift the blanket to my face to wipe away all the signs of my weakness, and think about how to answer him. There isn’t a good way to tell the story, and the more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t really want to.

  “That’s… something I’ll tell you another time.”

  Maybe Clio sees the fresh tears rolling down my cheeks or senses that I’m close to a breaking point I don’t normally reach. “Okay.”

  I blink back more tears and reach out to grab one of his hands. They’re so much larger than mine. The scars dappling his neck are here as well. His palms are darker than the rest of his hands—a side effect of being a true Ignis Equipped. I lace my fingers through his, fearing he’ll pull away at any minute and I’ve only imagined how close we really are, before I let myself look into his strong green eyes.

  “I really missed you,” I tell him.

  “I missed you too,” he says and smiles. That smile disappears when his eyes drift back to my bandaged legs. He rests a hand on my knee, and I can see the thoughts flying through his head.

  “That’s dangerous,” I say.

  He quirks an eyebrow and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “What is?”

  “Thinking that intensely.”

  He licks his lips and sighs. “I can’t help it. This… this was my fault.”

  The response catches me off guard, and I struggle to sit up. Instantly, he lifts his hands to try easing me back down, but I don’t obey. I’m mystified by his words, grasping for understanding I can’t reach on my own. “How in the world is this your fault?”

  “I got there too late… I didn’t…” He stops, visibly pained. “I didn’t protect you like I said I would.”

  I don’t like this. It doesn’t sound like something Clio would ever say, and I can’t believe I’m hearing him say them now. I frown. “Really, Clio? I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  His eyes move to my legs again.

  The shift in focus angers me, and I jut out my chin. “Think what you will, but I’m grateful it happened.”

  He purses his lips and looks at me as if I’ve completely lost my mind. “You’re grateful you were kidnapped? Grateful you’ve been secluded from everyone you’ve ever loved? That you can’t walk?”

  I breathe in slowly. “It sounds bad when you put it like that, but you don’t know the entire story, Clio. There’s a lot of things I wouldn’t have known without having come here. I would’ve been a different person if the Council still had me in their clutches. I don’t regret the path my life has taken. I mean, we’ve saved so many witches and found out the truth behind the war. I never would’ve done any of that if Willow’s people had never saved me.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not fair for you to have to sacrifice so much,” he says.

  “Who said anything about fair?” I blink and think of Willow. At one time, she had given her life for this war. Then I think of Iris and Chastity, who’d sacrificed themselves too. “There are witches who have given more than I have and witches who have given less.”

  “Who?” he demands.

  I let go of his hand, and he clutches it into a fist. I trace my finger over his knuckles, studying the way they turn white from the pressure. “Clio, the point is we’ve all made sacrifices for the greater good… That’s one of the milestones that come with war.”

  His eyes glaze over, but he doesn’t look up from the edge of my blanket. He’s made sacrifices too, whether or not he’s willing to admit it. One look at him, at the scars on his neck and face, makes that much apparent. If I could see the scars on his heart, I would bet good money it would look the same way. He doesn’t argue the point further, but I don’t know if that’s because I’ve truly won or if he’s too lost in his own memories to even try anymore.

  Clio remembers things about this war that I can’t even imagine. I told myself I wouldn’t push him, I wouldn’t force him to talk, but now that we’ve reached this part of the conversation, it’s all I want to do.

  “Clio… where have you been?” The dryness of my throat only exacerbates the raspy croak of my voice.

  “I was… away,” he says, reaching up to finger the ugly scar on the side of his neck. He looks away, as if looking for an escape, but there is none.

  “Where?” I ask breathlessly. Where could he have gone that the Council wouldn’t have found him and recruited him to take my old place? “I… I thought you were dead and…” I can’t finish that thought. Even though he’s right here in front of me, it still hurts to remember that uncertain period of my life when I had no idea what happened to him.

  “I don’t know.” He swallows, and his face contorts. “Fern saved me. I would’ve been dead if she hadn’t protected me, healed me. She watched over me until I was well enough to take care of myself.”

  I look at all his scars again, imagining them fresh and raw, bleeding, and Clio’s life seeping away with the blood. “You got all those wounds in the Battle of Ignis?”

  “No,” he says quickly. Too quickly, and it confirms what I’d already guessed. Clio almost died trying to save me.

  “You don’t have to lie to me,” I reply. “What you did was noble. You can’t help what happened any more than I can.”

  “I should’ve been a better fighter. For you, for Helena, for myself. And I failed when it really mattered.”

  There’s a reason Clio and I get along as well as we do; we understand each other in ways we will never understand other witches.

  “But you did fight, Clio. You fought your way back to health and found me.” I pause before adding, “How did you find me?”

  “Fern… knew you were there. I don’t know how. I thought the Council had saved you from the Elemental Coven, but Fern said you were in handcuffs, and… well, I just had to see for myself. I’m glad I did.”

  “So if Fern knew about the battle, where is she now?” I ask emotionlessly, very aware of the fact that I have still not seen her since I left Ignis for good. The thought that she never stopped looking after me warms what little bit of a heart I have left.

  “I don’t know,” he admits. “She disappeared when we reached the Grove and saw the battle.”

  My stomach clenches. Not this, again. Suddenly, I wish I’d stayed unconscious. I’m grateful to have Clio back in my life, but the uncertainty of Fern’s situation leaves me uneasy again.

  “If Fern knew where I was, why wouldn’t she tell me you were okay? I thought you were dead.”

  “I almost was… You have no idea how much I hate myself for leaving you there like that. Maybe Fern knew that if she said anything, I’d go after you. It was my fault you were captured.”

  He’s right, I know, but I’ve become so adjusted to people doing me wrong that the thought doesn’t hurt as much as it might’ve at one time. “But that turned out to be a good thing,” I say.

  Chapter Three

  Sickness

  THE BEST THING about Willow is h
ow high she holds her head. I’ve always bled self-confidence, but she is the embodiment of it. It’s hard for me to imagine her ever feeling hesitant to charge into a difficult situation, and in this case, I’m right. As Clio and I sit staring at one another, the door bursts open, hitting the wall so hard that it bangs with an echo. Before I can even make sense of what’s happening, she pulls me into her arms, Kado yipping at her heels. I’m so happy to see both of them that the tears I managed to blink back only a minute before come pouring out in torrents.

  I grab onto her, and she runs her hand down my short hair, flattening it to my scalp. I never want her to let me go. Before the war, and the knowledge of Willow and the Elemental Coven, I used to think about running away, to a brand new place, and starting over just to see what it would be like to be someone else. Now that I’m here, in the thick of it, I can’t imagine ever wanting to be anyone else.

  Willow pulls back and swipes a lock of hair from my eyes. Her black eyes are wide, unnerving in their anxiety. “I’m so glad to see you’re okay,” she says and hugs me again. This time, she squeezes me so tightly, I squeak, desperate for breath.

  “Uh, hi?” Clio says, and I hear the chair scrape the floor as he stands. “Should I give you two a minute alone?”

  Willow pulls away and looks from me to him and back to me again. Slowly, her eyebrows rise, and the finest smile appears on her face. “Is this him? You found Clio?” she says. Heat fills my cheeks, and she doesn’t wait for the answer before she throws her arms around him. “Thank you for bringing my sister back to me.”

  He peers at me with wide eyes over her shoulder. He’s still trying to figure out who she is and how he should react to her. I could help him, but mentally, I’m somewhere else. I’m busy adjusting. Seeing the two of them together in the same room leaves an odd feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, like my old life and new life are clashing, and I’m not sure which one I want to win.