ASHER
Otto’s screams are guttural but Elara doesn’t seem to be doing anything physical to him.
It’s got to be a mental thing. Her hands clasp his bald head, holding him in place. I watch as blood drips down his nostrils.
“What do you think she’s doing to him?” I whisper in Helaena’s ear.
“Essence magic,” Helaena answers. For once, she sounds impressed. “You would know this cousin, if you ever paid attention to mother’s magical demonstrations.”
“Those demonstrations were mostly for your benefit,” I chuckle, recalling a memory from when we were younger. “You always wanted to be a witch. I think that’s your greatest regret in life, that you didn’t get to keep mummy’s powers.”
“Shut up,” she spits. Otto screams louder. We watch as he drops to the ground. He’s not moving.
“Is he dead
