The room trembled as the surge of magic rippled outward. The wind that burst from Faith and Amethyst's joined hands swirled like a contained storm, rattling plates and silverware, sending a shiver through the very walls of the dining hall. Serena instinctively leaned back, gripping the edge of her chair, while Derick reached for the dagger strapped beneath his coat—though what good a blade would do against witchcraft, he didn't know.
Amethyst's breath caught in her throat. Her heart thumped violently as her vision blurred at the edges, colors smearing together like wet paint. She tried to yank her hand back, but Faith's grip was firm—unshakable. The witch wasn't even looking at her. Faith's glowing red eyes stared straight ahead, completely unfocused, as if she were seeing something beyond the walls of the castle.
"Faith?" Serena whispered, concern creeping into her voice.
Faith didn't respond.
Instead, the world around Amethyst began to melt away.
