The witches’ circle tightened. Nine of them, cloaks whipping in the rising wind, eyes glowing with sickly green fire. Their magic churned the air into something sharp and metallic, like the taste of lightning before a storm, a cold spike so strong it nearly knocked her to her knees.

“Christa” Her voice cracked. “They’re about to release something big.” Christa’s eyes widened. “I know. I can feel it.” The witches raised their hands in unison. The air screamed.

A vortex of ...