“I don’t like it,” Menes said. He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a hand rubbing at his jaw. Tension written up and down his person.

Chaya gave him an annoyed look. “You’ve said that.” She paused long enough to shove the book she’d been carrying at his chest until he took it. Meeting his brown eyes with her own deep gray ones. “Four times.”

The pair shared a long look, both hands still grasping hold of the textbook. It’s faded leather weathered from use and age. When their eyes finally broke several seconds later, Chaya removed her hand from the volume and turned toward the others. All deep in their own thoughts, the air around them heavy with unease.

“If anyone has a better idea,” she stated. “Then I’m all ears.”

“Perhaps there’s another spell we could try,” Conall offered. Though the tone in his voice was weak and hesitant. “A relic. Maybe a sword? I heard that magic swords usually do the trick.”

Beside him Lea rolled her eyes, removing herself from the chair she’d been brooding in for the last hour beside the fire. She scoffed at Conall. “We seem to be fresh out of magic swords,” she said. “And relics and new spells. I agree with Chaya. It’s the only way.”

“I still don’t like it,” it was Menes again. The same five words had been on repeat from his mouth since Chaya had brought out the text and offered the group a solution. “It took us ages to even get her in there. How many people died?”

Chaya sucked in a long breath, her eyes fluttering closed as she released it. “I know,” she said. “But she’s the only person who can stop him.”

“We can stop him!” Conall said, “We just need to keep thinking.”

Lea shot him a glare. “Since when do you do any of the thinking,” she asked. “Chaya is always the one with the plans and if even she thinks this is the only way… well.”

The room fell silent for a time. The only noise was the soft crackle of the fire and the noise of early fall wind outside the windows of the study. The rest of the manners, all the servants and other occupants, had long been asleep. Weary and sick with unease, just as they were.

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“I trust Chaya,” Lea said again. “I believe if anyone can do it, she can.”

All eyes fell on Chaya now and, to her credit, she held them. Her gentle dusky skin glowing in the firelight as her gray eyes stared back, only a brief second of hesitation flashing across them before sinking into a determined gaze. Then she pushed a lock of black hair behind her ear and pointed toward the textbook that Menes held in his hand.

“According to this,” she said. “It’s able to bring back only the Witch's power, if done right.”

“What happens if it’s done wrong?” Conall didn’t seem like he wanted to know the answer but he asked anyway.

Chaya’s gaze met his. “Then whoever it is loses their soul and the witch takes over their body.”

“And we’d have essentially brought back the person we’ve spent the last six years fighting,” Menes stated. “I don’t like it.”

Chaya stepped toward him, taking the book back from him with more force than necessary. “Well I don’t see you coming up with anything better,” she said. “I don’t see anyone with any better ideas, in fact.”

Menes huffed, finally moving from his place as he stormed to the opposite side of the room. Turning his back to them so that all they could see was the large, muscled back of the knight. He then ran a hand through his blonde hair and let out a long sigh. It was sign enough that he didn’t like it, but he knew Chaya was right.

“It can only happen on a full moon,” Chaya continued. “The person will need to cross into the between and summon the Witch.”

Lea met Chaya’s eyes. “Then what?”

“I assume they’ll need to beat the Witch somehow,” Chaya stated. “Get her to concede her powers and not take their soul.”

Conall paced the length of the fire. His socks scuffed against the rug but he paused, turned toward the room and shook his head. “We need more information first,” He stated. “We can’t function on half the picture when we’re gambling with one of our lives.”

“We don’t have time,” Chaya said with a raised edge to her voice. “Emre has already conquered the other City-States, his army is on our doorstep and we’re going to be laying out a feast for him if we don’t do something soon.”

“We spent six years,” Menes’ voice rumbled from the corner. “Six years trying to send that bitch to hell only to find that her power was what was keeping the rest of these hellbeasts at bay. What type of sick joke.”

Their faces grew grim. No one was able to say anything against his words because it had all been true. The five of them had labored for years, fought a hard battle of defeating the Witch that held the world in her claws. Threatening to consume them all a cat who’d cornered a rabbit. Little did they know that she was the wall sheltering them from other, more terrifying monsters. Ones that she’d gained dominion over who’d been waiting for the chains to be cut to devour them all. And cut the chains they had and to add salt to the wound they’d even lost one of their numbers in the struggle.

“Did Nace die for nothing,” Menes asked. “Was all of it… pointless?”

None could say, not when the wounds were so fresh and the blame so bare. Yet they had to try something and calling the Witch’s power was the only thing that could force the demons back into their cages.

“It meant something,” Chaya stated. “Nace, the war, all the dead. It meant something. We’re going to make sure it wasn’t all for naught.”

Menes turned finally. His eyes set as he said, “When’s the next full moon?”