The note that captivated me hours before crinkled under my hip as I rolled over. I’d held it in my hands as I plotted Dameldun’s demise, yet again. There were a thousand ways I could end him. The note must have fallen out of my fingers when my efforts to fight the sleep that pulled at me had been exhausted.

It was dark in the room but moonlight streamed through the small window centered on the back door. Almost as if she knew I’d woken, Sparrow squeezed her way back in through the dog door and came over to the bed.

“What were you doing out there, Sparrow?” I asked.

I immediately knew she’d been keeping watch. No one had slept much. Rose sat on the windowsill, periodically peeking through the small crack where the curtain didn’t fully cover the window. I was mad at myself for getting comfortable and letting myself fall asleep.

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and walked into the bathroom. A sigh escaped my weary lips as I looked at myself in the mirror and brushed back loose strands of hair that fell over my face. A shower would help, I told myself. I pulled the handle to the shower and cool water poured into the tub. I turned back to the mirror as I waited for warmer flow.

The mirror hanging behind the door reminded me of how unintimidating I appeared. Five feet tall was all I stood and I only made one hundred pounds after a good hearty meal in a hard rain. But none of that mattered. If he wanted me, he was going to get me. I hadn’t continued to study on my own all those years with the shadows for nothing.

During all that time I’d never thought I’d really do it. That I’d leave the forest and go after Dameldun, but here I was. Older, but not much bigger. But I was strong in other ways. My magic was powerful just as my mother’s had been. And, if what Rose said was true, that powerful magic ran through my blood from both sides.

The steam from the shower circled up and around me as I sat down in the tub basin and let the day before wash away, down the drain. I hadn’t had a running shower since Mr. Waters left ten years earlier. He’d held a power over the flow of water and could make it do amazing things.

I imagined being under the fountain he would make dance during the early summer evenings when I was a little girl. The water would jump and fall to the music of the men and women on drums, strings, and wooden flutes. I sighed, feeling the rush of the Earth’s liquid power pour over me now. I could’ve stayed in there for hours but the light would be breaking soon.