Read Online Foxheart by Claire Legrand - Free Book Online Page A

Fox’s mouth. “Why me? Why couldn’t other witches help you?”
    â€œWitches don’t help other witches,” said Anastazia, staring darkly out the window. “Since our beginning, it’s been our nature to quarrel, to try to best one another, even to steal otherwitches’ magic, if we can. We know it’s dangerous to do so—that the health of the world’s magic depends on many witches having healthy magic, not witches constantly stealing and fighting. But that’s how we are. That’s how we’ve always been.”
    Quicksilver nodded. The one time she’d tried working with another thief had been recently, with Sly Boots—and look where that had gotten her.
    â€œIn this case, of course,” continued Anastazia, “no one is helping me but me—albeit a younger me —which is perfectly acceptable. And any other witch who has ever tried to defeat the Wolf King has failed, while we have continued on, life after life after life. So”—Anastazia gave Quicksilver a hard, grim little smile—“I can only assume we’re the only ones fit for the job. Why bother asking for help from anyone else? They’ll only botch things.”
    All of a sudden, Quicksilver sat up straight. “Wait. Your Fox. Where is he?”
    Anastazia’s smile faded. There was a horrible silence, during which even Fox seemed to hold his breath.
    â€œHe’s dead,” Anastazia said at last. “He died to bring us here.”
    Fox whined, and Quicksilver’s heart jumped to hear thesound. She patted the bed, and Fox curled up beside her, pressing hard against her leg. Quicksilver smiled and had to fight the urge to scoop Fox up into her arms as she once would have done. Instead she stroked Fox’s velvet ears, and he sighed his familiar, contented sigh.
    Anastazia watched them with an unreadable look on her face.
    â€œBut . . . why did he die?” Sly Boots asked.
    â€œTraveling through time is dangerous magic,” said Anastazia. “It requires tremendous sacrifice—of the witch, and her monster. Which is why, as far as I know, I’m only one of two witches to ever have done it.” She folded her hands in her lap, looking suddenly very small. “To willingly give up your monster, and therefore your magic, the very thing that makes you a witch . . . it’s unthinkable. Witches would rather die than make that sacrifice. You’d have to be a fool to do it.” She smiled tiredly. “So I suppose the rest of witchkind is truly lucky that I’m a big enough fool for all of us.”
    â€œWait . . . what’s a monster?” Quicksilver asked.
    â€œPerhaps I should start at the beginning,” Anastazia said, “instead of rambling on like the dotty old woman I’ve become. That’s something to remember, Quicksilver: the older you get,the harder you must work to keep your thoughts in order.”
    â€œI won’t be old for a very long time,” Quicksilver pointed out.
    â€œYou’ll soon find that a very long time isn’t as long as you think,” said Anastazia. “Now, listen to me and don’t interrupt. I hate having to repeat myself.”
    Then Anastazia began to speak.
    Once there were no witches in the world.
    Then there were seven.
    The first seven witches to walk the earth became known as the First Ones. They and their monsters were born out of the same ancient star, the same pool of magic—forever connected, forever sisters and brothers. Beloved by all, the First Ones were sought after for their magic, strength, and wisdom.
    But soon they began to quarrel, each desperate to prove themselves the most powerful witch in the world. They went to war—a terrible war that lasted an entire dark age. And when the war ended, the First Ones had destroyed themselves.
    Of course, throughout their long lifetimes, the First Ones had joined with many humans, and their children