Chapter 17

No one, not even Arhyvhynne was surprised that Eyrmysse walked into the Council Chambers half an hour late. The black robe had remained unconscious in the cavern for quite a while. When she came to, she was able to leave the cavern through the middle exit and found the antechamber empty. Reality hit her hard then and Eyrmysse's emotions alternated between grief and anger. She went to leave, but as she placed her foot upon the first step, she turned around and looked back at the antechamber. "I will be back," she said under her breath and unleashed a tremendous fireball which scorched the wall. She left the sixth level of the dungeons a very bitter young woman.

Arhyvhynne wanted to run over to her sister and hug her and tell her everything was alright, that the ordeal was over, that they could be sisters again. But she anticipated Eyrmysse's response and fought back her desire. She was already learning self control.

"It is about time," Wyxotte commented, her voice sarcastic.

The black robe raised her head and the cowl fell to her shoulders. She was still unquestionably beautiful and sensual, even after what she had gone through with the Trials. But the violet eyes were hooded and she somehow looked older. And more dangerous. She flashed her patented smile at the old witch, saying "I did not hear any complaints from the High Witch."

The comment caught Arhyvhynne off guard. She did not expect a confrontation so early. Eyrmysse waited for a response while the other witches waited to see how the new High Witch would handle her sister, herself. Silence augmented the tension. Arhyvhynne suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable sitting on the dais her mother had ruled from. How would mother handle this? she wondered. She made a half-hearted attempt to circumvent the issue. "We have more important business than your punctuality to discuss." Her voice was small, her eyes diverted.

Eyrmysse was smug. "Such as your coronation?"

"Sister, please. I assure you this is as difficult for me as it is for you."