Wanda Embermoor's Arc

Chapter 4 of 10

The candy crown sat on Leslie's table, dim behind its shell of sugar. Wanda thought the eye was gone. Then Elizabeth burst through the cookie door, cheeks flushed with cold. "It came back," she said. "Not the eye. Worse. I saw hunters at the tree line. Three of them. They already know this cottage." Wanda's charred hands curled into fists. "How? We hid the flame." "The eye marked the walls before we sealed the crown." Leslie set down a tray of golden honey rolls, glaze dripping. Her one visible eye stayed calm. "It painted my roof for them. They come for you, they burn me too. And I have paid for other witches' fire before." She tapped the lollipop patch over her missing eye. Guilt hit Wanda hard. Leslie had sheltered her, and now the woman would pay in blood. "Then I leave. Now. They follow me, not you." "They follow the mark," Leslie said. "Running takes it with you and leaves it here." She pushed the honey rolls closer. "Eat. Think. Panicked witches make bad choices." Elizabeth crossed to the window and pressed her palm to the sugar pane. Frost spread from her fingers. "I can wall the door. But ice buys minutes, not a night. You know this." Wanda looked at the crown, then at the frost, then at Leslie's steady face. An idea burned up in her. "The mark feeds on bright fire. It brought them here because I lit the forge. So I give them a fire to chase. A brighter one, somewhere else." Leslie's smile turned sharp. "You'd bait your own hunters." "I've done worse." Wanda took the sealed crown but did not crack it. Instead she pressed her scarred palms flat to the chocolate floor. Heat poured from her ruined hands into the walls. The cottage groaned. Sugar windows glowed orange. The whole roof blazed like a lit torch, throwing false fire into the night. Outside, the hunters shouted. They ran toward the blaze, blades drawn, sure they had cornered the crown. "Now," Wanda said. "Out the back. While they watch the front burn." Elizabeth grabbed the honey rolls and the sealed crown. Leslie moved slower, dragging one hand along her melting wall, mourning it. They slipped out past a glass fountain in the yard, a mermaid statue pouring bright water from a hollow planet. The false fire roared behind them. They did not stop until the cottage was a distant orange smear. The hunters still circled it, hunting a crown that was already gone. Wanda's hands throbbed. She had spent real fire to fake a fire, and her power felt thinner now. But Leslie was alive. The hunters chased empty light. Leslie looked back at her burning home. "You saved my life and burned my house in one breath." She almost laughed. "I owe you now. And I know where a crown of fire can be worn without being seen. Follow me."