Lone Star Mountain You think you know witches from stories and such,

rituals. gods. a surname. heathens. pagans. where i am from we put you to death, he wanted to snap, but ropes of silk held his tongue merciful. célnes had given him a home and a purpose. he would not betray it, not even when he was repulsed by her narrative.

but he was among them now, her ash-smoke siblings. belatedly germanicus wondered why they all knew to follow her. in spite of his misgivings, he found he was pleased with his choice. "this god of yours," he grudged, "what does he ask in sacrifice?" fire, it seemed. but blood? could the soldier bear sacrifice to a foreign deity?