Chapter 92

Two days later, at the Winterberg mountain, the campfires were practically out, in the middle of the night. Everything was peaceful around the witches' camp. Phillip crept out of his tent and noticed Lucinda covered in a blanket by the fire. As night fell, the blue haze of the day lifted to show the stars above. Phillip was always of the opinion that this was closer to the truth of who they are. He wondered if they were nocturnal, if they felt more connected to those distant stars, perhaps understanding the fragility of land more. The night, to him, was when the curtain was drawn back and several people laid around the glowing coals, but they were sound sleeping. All of them slept well.

Phillip moved like a panther over to Lucinda's prone form. He knelt to examine the witch's new leader's serene sleeping expression. Phillip hated the tranquility. Lucinda was no fool, despite the war's concerns, her rapid aging, and the loss of her left eye. She remained awake, and the information imp